Expect a very short post, Peace keeper wars is on Scifi.

Well, the family was really cool about my not having ink today. My sister reminded me this was not the first time I was told I would be printed on one day, and ended up being printed on another.

I got to my parents in more than enough time to reach my sisters. Left the car there and traveled to Palmer with my parents. I don't like going to Palmer, I end up stinking of smoke, and the trip exhausts me.

My family reacts oddly to my discussing this illness. No one wants to use the word lupus, it is my 'issue' my 'problem'. I wonder why it is so hard for my family to say the word? Is it the word which cannot be spoken? Does my family think if they don't say the word it means I am going to get better. Can they not say it? Or do they think I am healthy, that there is nothing wrong with me? How many times do I have to mention my need for assistance, my physical limitations, my medications?

Sometimes I just want to grab people and scream in their faces, 'I am going to die! Stop pretending I am not!   I need your assistance dealing with this!'

I was laying on the couch, having major problems breathing, I wanted to take my pain medication, but I had no idea how long we were going to be there, and if I would need to be driving soon. So I dared not take my meds. Joey, one of my nephews, asked me if I had a cold, a cold! I looked at him and said, 'No honey, I'm very sick, I have a bad illness.' I mean just what do I say to him? What do I say to any of these kids.

I got to bring home lots of sweet stuff, some pumpkin cheese cake, some torta, pumpkin pie, and a few cupcakes. I have already eaten some torta, and a cupcake. Next I plan on attacking the pumpkin pie. I am going to leave the pumpkin cheesecake for taureanbabe.

From The BOSTON GLOBE. My Christmas memory, the one I published yesterday.

Will be published in the Christmas day special Sidekick issue of the BOSTON GLOBE.


SCREAM!!!!!

My parents have portrayed Santa and Mrs. Claus for many years. The idea he and my mother have been awake all night delivering presents and traveling the US in an open sleigh is important to enjoying this memory.

My Grandmother passed away just before Thanksgiving, so this year will be the first time we do not do this

I drive to my parents house far to early Christmas morning. Gathering my parents, and youngest sibling we travel to my Grandmothers nursing home. Nana would introduce him to all her friends as Santa, Mrs. Santa, and a few of the elves. Remind her female friends, she was far older than they, as she had given birth to Santa. Children pulled from under the tree to visit relatives would have a chance to thank Santa for their presents, or discuss why they did not get what they asked for. Soon my aunt and uncles would show up, along with cousins and their own children. Gifts would be exchanged, nursing home guests who were alone would be invited to join us for breakfast.

Over coffee my parents will tell stories of their exciting night, the tree the reindeer almost hit. The house where the chimney had not been cleaned since the last time he slid down. Children we had never meet before, and might never see again sat in rapt attention to Santa telling them of his adventures. My siblings and I would argue over who had to clean the reindeer stables, and wash the harnesses. (family legend states flying reindeer have flying poop - well it more floats) Finally around 10, am my Grandmother would tire and ask to be returned to her room. We would all wish the rest of the family, and the ones who joined just for the day a wonderful holiday.

Traveling next to my sisters house we will eat far to much ham, multiple servings of pie, and a gallon of egg nog each. Presents will be exchanged, pictures will be taken. Memories will be made.

Then my mother will announce the sleigh needs to be clean and the reindeer brushed. The table will be cleared, the dishes done. And family will return back to their own homes, with a full stomach, and happy memories.

Jan Dumas - Revere

No, I find it fairly soulless to hear of people so lacking in ideas of their own they take their guidelines on how to live from an empty television show that ended over a decade ago.

With my fellow pagans I will celebrate the first winter holiday Yule, on December 21st, (which prior to the calendar change in the mid 1700's fell on December 25th) the shortest day of the year. From this celebration we get the lighting of candles in the window, bring evergreen trees into our homes and decorate them. We give gifts, and sing songs of joy because the days will start getting longer, and spring will soon return.

What people crying about the lack of 'christ' in christmas ignore is the entire holiday has been stolen first from the pagans. Mithras, a Persian deity who's feast day (birthday) was December 25th. He was sent by his father-god, to bring the rule of law and rid the world of evil. Birthed to a virgin, the daughter of a shepard in the winter camp (no lambs present)

Would that the Globe could do some research on the origins of modern holidays. Not just write articles on people so empty of culture they need television to tell them what to do.

My new article was published in dog boston today,

http://www.dogboston.com/blog/

Can I get any cooler!!

We got into line at the ICA just after one. The police officer let us know it could be as long as a three hour wait. You have to love this city, only here would a museum opening have a three hour wait. But we only waited for about 30 minutes. Not to get in, but for me to get tired of hearing complaints.

She did not want to stand in line, she would get bored in the museum. She did not have a book. Finally I just could not take it, and I agreed to take her to Downtown crossing so she could look at some flat shoes.

SO I am going to check the schedule and take myself back to the ICA soon.


We stopped at DSW, then at the pen store. Grabbed a bite to eat, and went to Quincy Market so L could get some more gummy lobsters for her family. We walked through the Holocaust memorial on the way into the market.

On the way back, L started flirting with a guy on the T. He got off at the same station we did, and he walked home with L. I kind of walked near by, but not close. I was getting kind of frustrated and tired by that point, and all I could say, was 'why don't guys pay attention to my, I got skinny, I got a great ass, and a flat stomach.'

Not what I wanted to say, but it's what came out.

So Danny and I are an item!!

Sorry I was not in a mood to really post last night, I had a lot to talk about, but I had spent the entire day writing and I had drained the muse.

I finished writing when the mail came, and I started reading Time magazine. I turned to the milestone page and saw a Cockrum Storm! Yes Time Magazine thought Dave Cockrum was important enough to notice his passing. I was so surprised, I decided to call Ken and Mercy and let them know. Ken decided to tell me about spending Sunday with Danny at a little gathering for his birthday. Now I know I called Danny to wish him a happy Birthday, but he never mentioned to me that he was having a gathering. (I talked to him later and he said it was last minute)

So Ken told me that he asked Danny where I was, as did some other people and he had not thought to ask me to travel down. I so would have. So Ken asked Danny if we were fwb, or we were an item. Danny said he would think about it for a while. As Ken was leaving Danny said "Yes Ken, we are an item." I was so happy. So very happy, because I though we were becoming an item because we were starting to talk more, and we were talking about getting together more often. So it is nice to know he is feeling the same way. I was going to give him a call that day anyway, because I wanted to figure out when he was arriving for Arisia, and see if he wanted to come up here for our New Years Eve Party.

- Just a reminder, if your attending our New Years Eve party, let us know.

So I was about to grab the phone at 8 and call him, when he called me instead!!!!! Sweet. We talked for 45 minutes, about Arisia, and what was going on in our lives, and just stuff like that. It was pretty cool, very cool. And yes, we are a couple. Sweet.

That conversation was so an antidote to the day I had. I spent the day with K and the baby. Most of it was good, but we also had to go to WIC, and argue with them about Bryan's formula. He can not digest the Nestle formula which WIC wants him on. His doctor wants him on Simlac easydigest, and she sent WIC a letter saying so. And she wrote a prescription for the formula she wants him on. Well WIC still disagrees, and will only give her two containers a week. It so sucks that WIC is pushing this formula. Are they owned by Nestle or something. Has any one else used WIC, do they force WIC on every one, is that just here?

Bryan has grown, he is already 10 pound, and today I turned into one of those crazy Grandmothers. I was looking at toys at CVS while waiting my turn at the pharmacy. I woman was standing next to me looking at the 3 year old toys, while I was playing with the 3 to 6 months. I want to get at least one 3 to 6 month toy as well as some 0 to 3 months. We started talking grandbabies and the next thing I knew we were sharing pictures and talking about how smart and wonderful they were.

We had plenty of time to talk as there was an addict melting down at the pharmacy. She was on methadone, and had supposedly dropped off her prescription the night before to be filled. She was out of pills, and needed her fix. She was crying and telling the pharmacist that if she did not have her pills she would go out and spend all her money on a fix instead of food for her kids. I could not get up any sympathy up for her, not a bit. I was more annoyed that she was delaying my getting my meds. I felt no sympathy for her at all. The pharmacist got her calmed down by giving her two days worth of pills. And while he was on the phone with her doctor the assistant went back to serving people.

Since everyone who was in line had vanished as she started freaking out there was no one in line. We were watching / listening to the noise and staying out of sight. The woman had tried to get people to help her out, she asked the man behind me if he was also getting a scrip for morphine and if he would loan her some. Guess I did not look like an addict. He was very insulted at the suggestion that he would even know what morphine was. The assistant picked up the store microphone and said 'Next in line for the pharmacy.' I walked back figuring that people would start a new line. To my surprise, the guy I had been in front of mentioned me in front of him, and so I let the older woman who had been in front of me get back into her place. The couple who had been at the end of the line stepped to the back of the line, and the 8 of us retook our original places in line.

There was no discussion, no interaction from the pharmacy assistant. It just happened. I wonder, if the gentleman, the same man as was bothered by the addict, having let me in front of him was the impetus. Had it not been for his allowing me to step back into my space in line, I would not have suggested to the elderly woman to take her place. The couple would not have decided to step back in line. The woman said to her husband, 'We were behind them I think.' This made the rest of the line fall into step. I like how just one person could change the behavior of everyone else. I was just planning on stepping to the end of the line.

I also think I might go through some of my old ordainments, the ones I know will not fit on this tree and look for ways to just hang them on the walls, I can do that you know, I own the walls. I need some ideas how to hang ordainments.

so it looks as if Danny and I might be comming an item.   He had his birthday last week, and peple were surprised to not see me there.  Ken asked if we were an item or just friends, and Danny said we might be an item.

Then he called me and we talked for over an hour.  We talked about Arisia, and maybe getting together sooner than Arisia, and things we could do after Arisia. 

We both kind of agreed, after a very long conversation, that we were an item. 

It's longer than that, but I do not want to get into the conversation we had,  but I was so happy, I sat in the living room and giggled for joy.

Amoung other things. Had a very tired day. Real tired. I could not do much and at best I have been up for maybe 6 hours. Total, 6 hours.

Someday I hope to feel better, but today will not apparently be one of those days.

Tired, my hands and feet are cold, and my chest feels like my lungs are ready to implode.

The pain is like f***ing crazy. Just crazy.

Got my monthly summary report from E. Not a lot of profit the quarter. Grumble.

The entire mybooks data base is gone. Just boom gone. And my cell phone died also. What a day. Not sure if I can save the palm, what ever took it down took it DOWN!. When the phone died also, I decided I had no other choice but to replace both. I went to verizon and got a trio palm phone. So now I have a new palm, a new phone, and a camera/movie maker all at once.
So I am looking into replacing the data base. I have already rebuilt the data base on smart lists, however, the smart list will not transfer to the palm. Since having a data base on the computer is nice, but not travable (is that a word?). I need a data base that travels on the palm. Or I need to change back to another phone, and try to save the data base, or rebuild it.
Well no matter what, the data base is gone, all three thousand plus records are gone. All of them are gone.
Now I get to freek out a bit. My data base of all my nail polish colors is gone. My data base of all my tarot spreads is gone. At least my journal is still safe. But the world has not ended, I can rebuild all this stuff. It will just take a long long time.

Decided to sit at the pc for a bit, just before I go back to bed. Discovered two things that made me happy.

First I am the first story on the cool blog http://hollabackboston.blogspot.com/

And Second, when the dada page opened up, I am the first 'selected' blog. It takes so little to make me happy.

I was adding the new books to my data base on the hand held. I started to do the hot snyc and suddenly I received an error message. Both the palm and the db program crashed, the info is still on the handheld, but is gone from the computer. This is so not good.

I have to figure out how to get the data back on the computer. Looks like I am in for a long night of data entry

So here is the thing, I was being a jerk earlier, but when I drove through the area today to bring a friend home my brain began turning this over in my head.   See there was this accident... 

This was reported on the Boston Police blog

DAILY INCIDENTS FOR NOVEMBER 29, 2006

Suspect Wanted in Hit and Run in Brighton
Last night at 9:00pm officers from District 14 responded to a radio call for a person struck by a motor vehicle at 590 Washington Street. On arrival the officers observed an 83-year-old male from Allston lying in the street. Boston EMS responded and transported the victim to the Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center where he was treated for his injuries. According to witnesses at the scene, the victim was struck by what was believed to be a green Subaru operated by a white male. After striking the victim, the suspect exited his vehicle looked down at the victim, returned to his car and fled the scene. Anyone with information about this incident is urged to contact police.

I use to live very very close to 590 Washington Street, it is the address of the 7/11 where I use to go before meeting up with T to purchase cheap beer and smokes. It is the place we would always stop if we were going back to my place, or any place else for that matter to grab smokes for him.

Now the car is described as a Green Subaru, and as a former Subaru owner, I can tell you that Green is a special order color. I can tell you that, because my Subaru was green. When I got Gothica, I gave the green Subaru away, to a guy who lives very close to 590 Washington Street, all of two blocks away. So a Green Subaru lives in that neighborhood. And well is he the kind of person who would do that? See, that question I don't know the answer to.

While I have no information on the accident, I do have knowledge of a Green Subaru, living near by, and that I gave the car to a white male.

So, what now?

I thought I had posted this morning, but I guess I did not. I was busy this morning. Had L take Byron down for a little while and cleaned out the dragon tank. Got a chance to play with both of them this morning. The smaller one, who I believe is female and I have named Isolde came right into my hand and let me play with her for a while. I gave her some fresh lettuce, and let her walk around me and on the couch. After a while I went to put her back, but as I was doing so Byron knocked open the door from downstairs and came charging up the steps. I just managed to get her back in the tank. So I did not get a real chance to interact with the larger dragon. Other than an attempt to get them to spend some time in the water. The idea is that by giving them a chance to swim once a week it will help their skin, and allow them to fully defecate. But instead of enjoying the bath, they both freaked out and tried to run out the the tub. I need to talk to the guys on the beardie forum and see what I should try next.

I spent some more time this morning working on a few more cards. If I just printed them and mailed them it would be so much easier. But that is so not me.

After that we walked to Filene's Basement (yes I still have to take Shade song there, and Chinatown, as well) I started picking clothing off the racks and handing it to L to try on. I found the most incredible little dress, with the correct support garment it will knock Danny's eyes out! And I found this great fake fur jacket, it looks so real I christened it 'byron' As well as the cutest little black top. I know, I should not be purchasing new clothing, but hey, I did not look at a single shoe, AND I looked at all the price tags. I even know about how much I spent on clothing today, under one hundred dollars. I am not sure if I am going to wear any of the new stuff tonight, because I was a bit tired after that so we headed back home. Gonna take a nap and then see.


The plan for Sunday, depending on how I feel is to try to head up to Salem. This time, depending on the weather I am going to see if L can drive Gothica, I am not one hundred percent sure she will be able to handle her, as I know the Element drive oddly. It took me a while to get use to the car, and I have been told by others who drove her for the first or second time that driving her was strange.

As we drove back we drove through Brighton Center, (it was just easier that way) and I started thinking about the hit and run accident in Oak Square. My head keeps turning back to the description in the police blog, and how the description of the vehicle so sounds like my old car. The one I gave T. I have no idea what if anything I should do. I'll blog more on that in the next post.

Got up early and started doing stuff around the house. Got some laundry done, and some stuff picked up. Started working on the writing I needed to do, and finished one article. Finally...

I went to therapy today, and ended up having an extra long session. She did not have an appointment after me, and we ended up going on for a long time. It did not feel all that long, but we talked for almost two hours. Had a lot of great conversations, including my stronger and stronger feeling that I am going to die soon. I can't shake the feeling. The increased pain in my chest does not help at all. I feel like there is just so much going more and and more wrong with me.

After I left there I ran over to Kristen's with the laptop and copied the pictures I had taken of Bryan on to one of the extra chips I gave her, and took copies of the pictures she had taken on to the laptop. Then I ran home with just enough time to change and meet L in town.

Here is a nice picture of the Holiday tree all lit up.

As we were walking home, these two guys tried to talk to us, I made the mistake of responding to them, and even though I thought they stopped bothering us, they followed us back to the house. I saw them up front, and decided to open the door. I asked them what the hell they were doing, and then let Byron out. He had them running full bore up the street before he hit the fence. So the doors are all locked tonight, as they are every night, and the door between levels is also open just a bit. They know we have a dog, and a big nasty one at that.

It's december, and warm enough outside to wear short sleeves to watch a holiday tree get lit.

I was looking at the boston police blog and I saw a report that said a guy driving a green subaru hit an old man. Because it was in D14, and the address where the man was hit is in Oak Square 

Not that I think he would hit someone and drive away.  But a tall skinny man, in a green subaru impreza!   OH I am so gonna get accused of being mean!!!!!!     

I joined a quiz site, and created a quiz - how well do you know me.    Here is the link.

http://www.testriffic.com/friendtest/744325   Well back to writing, at least until the tree lighting.

For every nice girl on my list, and for those who are not -- found by a bad girl who wishes she was more like you.


Nice Guys may finish last but Nice Girls wait the longest

This rant was written because a nice girl finally snapped.

Just in case your wondering, I have decided the only nice guys out there, are either gay, or dead.  There is no such thing as a nice guy.  Married or single, they are all the same.

This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who don't give it up on the first date, who don't want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they've heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren't perfect and that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who don't deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from "there are plenty of fish in the sea," to "time heals all wounds." This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.

This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blond girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.

This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom, but won't because it's easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a relationship: it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.

This is for the "I really like you, so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've received from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisfied with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.

This is what I don't understand. Men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, the guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and smart and beautiful; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives, that girls play mindgames, that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet, men, I ask you: were you to meet one of these genuinely interested, thrillingly compelling, interesting and intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call... and if you were to receive a call from her the next day and she, in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straightforward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intriguing and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material from which she could fashion a boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them of the "stalker chick" you'd met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told the truth? And would you, or would you not, refuse to make plans with her, speak with her, see her again, and once again return to the bar or club or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinely interested in your intermural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; you're looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.

So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover; sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the low cut shirt or the too tight miniskirt won't answer your catcalls, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in whore's clothing - - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends, but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning, I'll be wearing a teeshirt and flannel shorts, I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the slutty girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl.. so don't say you're looking for a relationship: relationships take time and energy and intent, three things we're willing to extend - - but in return, we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, three things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after the whores and the sluts and the easy-targets... the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with water and towels and a congradulatory hug (and yes, if she's a nice girl and she likes you, the sweatiness probably won't matter), hoping against hope that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones that you want at the end of that silly race.

So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting; however, until that happens, we still have each other, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat (because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate?)

Author Unknown

I have in Arisia speak been asked to give them a reason, and a blurb for a memorial panel on Dave Cockrum.

I did my best, I hope and will get the approval to run a panel.

For those of you who will be at Arisia this year I have a question.

I would like to draft one or two people with Arisia history to do this panel. I already drafted comic people (and Arisia panel people) Ken Gale and Mercy Van Vlack, but I would like to have a few more names to suggest.

Also, if you know anyone at Arisia, feel free to suggest a Dave Cockrum memorial panel. After all, he did create the X-Men. And unlike Chris, he is, or was, so not a jerk.

So anyone want in...

I have this wonderful piece of artwork from Mercy, it is a great drawing of Nightcrawler in the buff dancing through a field of blue columbine. (my favorite flower) When I first asked for the drawing, Mercy drew him from the right side, with his right leg up! We had a good laugh, and she did a second drawing. After the drawing was finished, I had a chance to meet Dave Cockrum. I was a bit silly, being around my idols does that to me. I got him to autograph a picture, and he asked me if I had seen the work of one Mercy Van Vlack. I said I did, without saying I was a friend, and he mentioned a commission she had shown him of Nightcrawler. My commission! I admitted to being the person to order the art work, and we had a good laugh. He had a great laugh, the kind of laugh that made other people smile for no reason other than they heard him laugh.

After that, we chatted about creating characters, and writing. I felt like instead of meeting my idol, I had just met a friend. And we stayed friends.

What a sweet sweet man. I'll miss him.

Pictures

We brought Bryan to Petco today.

Someday soon I hope he gets to meet some of the other important people in his mommy and daddy's life.     I guess there are some people who have decided they are no longer in his mom's life.

Sad, for them, not him.

I got up early and easily this morning.  Took Byron out for a walk and feed all the animals, even cut up some fresh fruit and carrots for the dragons.    I managed to cut my own finger while taking the skin off the kewie fruit.    Byron is still not use to having them here, but unlike Barbie, who fights back, these two just back off.    He has yet to try to get into the tank yet, and the dragons will not try to get out.  SO unlike the Barbie vs. Byron battle, there will be no contact between the two.   

I finally got a chance to talk to my parents I am going to have dinner with them Sunday.  It will give me a chance to visit with them over the holiday.   They were at my sisters at 8 am, and did not eat dinner until 5.   If I had gone out with them, I would have needed to arrive at their house at 7 am, which would have meant leaving here at 6.   After last year, when I was on the road for 3 hours there and even more back, I am glad I chose to stay close to home.

Spent most of day with Kristen and her son. I have been misspelling his name, they named him Bryon, pronounced like “BRIAN” not Byron, I have been spelling it with the I, and pronouncing it correctly. But every time I think of his name with a Y, I call him my dogs name. Not smart...
When I got to her house Bryan was awake and getting some floor time. He was wiggling wanting to burp or poo or something, he was not the happiest of babies. I played with him for a bit, and he decided that a bottle would be a good idea. K let me feed him, and then I put him on my shoulder to burp him. He let loose with a burp that would have made Mr Creosote proud. After that, he smiled, pleased at the noise he made. After that he wanted to play for a while, which at the age of two weeks is to kick and wiggle. And mess his diaper, a lot...

I hung out there for most of the day, playing with the baby, and letting him nap in my arms for a long time. I think for a bit, I even fell asleep my self. I know K did. She needed it. I got to feed him again before I left. The only thing I did not do today was change his diaper, and she has yet to suggest I take a turn. I am sure at some point I will get stuck, but not now.

We went over to Petco to show Bryon to the staff, I grabbed a picture of Eddie with Bryon, but that was the only picture I took. Did not think to take the camera out for any of the other employees, but then, Eddie and Kristen are the only employees left from my time there. I find it hard to believe it has been two years since I walked away from that place. Hard to believe time moves so fast. But then, how different was my life when Bryon was conceived. Different, so different. 

Stopped at the grocery store on the way back to pick up some food, decided that I liked the idea of an egg roll, and i also grabbed a chicken pot pie, just in case L had not eaten. I did not pay attention to the microwave when I started cooking the egg roll, I was suppose to cook it for 30 seconds, i instead cooked it for 3 minutes! Cooked it to a crisp, burned to a cinder. YUCK! So I ended up just eating the pop pie for dinner instead. It was good, but when your heart is set on an egg roll, having a pot pie is just not satisfying. Not one bit.

April and I have been laughing on the phone for over an hour.

I had a talk with J and T from the Pet Shoppe today. We were talking about the number of animals who get abandoned at the end of the semester.

While I was there, two people came in to abandon pets. They did not want to go to an animal rescue league, one could not be bothered, and the other was concerned it would be reported.

What JERKS!! Well they now have more animals up for adoption. Some fish, and another reptile. A small snake that was getting large enough for live food, once owned by a person who decided the idea of purchasing mice once a week was to expensive. Sometimes I get so angry at people who just abandon pets. There are laws against it, but they have no teeth, non at all.

The two people who came in to abandon pets while I was there were both young. One just a child, the other in her teens.

The male wants to explore. He has already walked off my shoulder and on to the desk. The female just wants to sit and rest her head on my shoulder.

So the crew grew.

It is that time of year when college kids who got pets, can not take them home, and can not leave them in the dorm rooms. Or kids who got what the thought was a great pet, only to be overwhelmed with the care and feeding of another living creature. An animal, which may not have responded the way the student expected the pet to.

I read so many postings, long postings, some full of sorrow, about the loss of a pet. From people who had never been given the slightest lesson in how to care for the animal in the first place.

I decided to send letter to two posters tonight, not to talk about adopting their animals, but how to help them keep their pets. One poster had a rat, and the rat had bit him. Out of fear I think. I will know further once he responds to my letter. The second poster does not believe he is able to properly care for his pet as it looks unhappy. Again, when he responds to my questions I will go from there.

Others are going home for the semester, and can not take their pets with them. So instead of leaving the pet with a sitter, it get put up for adoption, or abandon it.

The colleges need to do something about the transfer of animals every year. Maybe having a dorm area pet, say a friendly dog, or cat, even a fish tank would help the students make the transitions in the dorms. And, would prevent the twice yearly animals dumping going on over at Craig's list. Other students who were not leaving for the winter break or summer session, could watch the pets of the traveling students.

Or the colleges and universities could completely ban pets on campus, unless the student has a detailed plan in place for bringing the pet home.

 I stayed up later than I should have to watch Conan.   He had on one of the actors in Heroes.  The time traveler guy.  I am awful with names.

We ran a few errands today L and I.  Went to the grocery store, and grabbed some food, and then to the pet store so I could get hay for Fidget.   They were out of feeder fish, so I will have to swing down tomorrow to get feeder fish for the big fish.   Since it is a very short week, we were talking about doing some thing fun tomorrow, like maybe Chinatown.  Especially if I continue to feel this good, I should not waste it.   I feel about a 4 or a 5 pain level right now.   Or in the new Jan terms  FAB.    The old me would have felt horrid, but the new me considers having only taken one pain pill in two days to be a monumental occasion.    I wonder what did it, and how long it will last. 

Part of me lives in fear I have a crash in my future, a big crash. I can hope and pray, light candles and cast spells all I want, and I will fall back down again. Part of me wonders if this is the miracle cure Dr P. promised me, way back when. Can I say I have mastered lupus, or is it lying in wait. Did the brace help the pain? Am i just imagining how I feel.

So many questions, so unsure. So unsure about everything.

Talked to L about my dwelling on my past. Well not dwelling, but how something going on right now, reminds me of something in my past. As a storyteller, and as part of our sharing histories, and just having a new audience, I share those stories as they come out. So I asked her flat out today, if I think, or share to much. Do I always have to talk about this. She had a good answer, a very good answer. It made me feel better. I don't talk about history constantly, we are also building our memories of friendship. But things come up, like talking to my friend who just had the baby, we talked about the people who have not called her since the birth, and a name came up. So I blogged about it. Because I share everything with my blog, everything.   Like the hang up phone calls, and the porn web sites  I get signed up for. 

Everything!

We had a showing each other our history day today, we shared pictures of our families, our friends, and a few more stories. Sometimes I am astonished at how similar we are. For two people who are so far apart in age, and experience, we also have some strange things in common. Little things, that we like or dislike. She still can't get her head around fluffernutter tho.

Is it stranger that I prefer to make my own holiday card, or that I actually own and can find on a moments notice, this dress.

Sadly, the dress is a bit on the big side.  I usually wear it outside in December, and so I bought it a size larger than I needed.    What you also can't tell is the last time I wore this dress, I was 60 pounds heavier!!!!!

Decided at 8 that we would have a 'men drive us crazy' beer, or four. Well it ended up being one. I took L to The Boulvard for a quick beer, and the gross little man who drove me out of there this summer was there. We sat at the bar, but we could smell him. So after a couple of whiffs, I suggested we move to a side table. For some reason, he decided to try to talk to us! Now, if I want to be spoken to I just might speak to you first, but if I want nothing to do with you, do not invade my space.

First he wanted to just chat, while we were at the bar, and I just ignored him. As we went to the table L made a comment about being more a hockey fan thaa football fan. He was looking for an opening, and that was it. He started to talk about the B's our local team, and I just looked at her and said 'do not encourage him.' I continued to talk over him, and for a second, and only a second, he got the hint.

Once me moved to the table, he decided to walk over for a visit, and to try to engage L in a conversation about hockey. Without even looking at him said 'this is a private conversation.' He came back again, and I once again tossed him off. He finally got the hint and left us alone. But the evening was a mess, we walked out after paying for our one beer.

When is Boulvard going to learn as long as that creap hangs out there, he will empty the bar of real people. Well considering it was us, the bartender and the bar back, I guess he did.

After that we decided to grab a bite to eat. This being Revere on a Sunday night our options were the IHOP on 60 or the IHOP on 1. We went with the IHOP on 60. Kind of a mistake on our part. We started joking around about what we were going to do in the morning, and for some reason I made a cat joke. About how I had a great recipe, but could not think of anything else to do with them.

Well this creapy guy (oh look, a theme) at a table behind L looked over and said.

"Once when I was making love to my X wife, our cat bit me on the foot." L turned red, and I looked over and let fly. Saying,

"Lets just pretend you do not just say something so inapproprate to two ladies, you never met before!" Sadly, I stuck up for myself just before I realized the two hot guys at the next table were about to stand up and defend our honor. I think I scared them away, because when I left the one who had his back to me watched me walk out of the place. I wanted to turn around and go back in. But what could I say?

Sigh, one missed connection.

To grow a pair, when the problem is really none of your business.

Well for now I will keep quiet.  But K's father has yet to come visit his grandson.    I made it hours after my grandmother's wake.    His reason is her step mother does not want to go.  So he CAN NOT go!

Dude, grow a pair!!!!!!

Hey Figment, you should call or visit or something. 

For the first time in I do not know how long, I woke up pain free, and now an hour later, i am still pain free.  

Pain free.   I don't remember how it felt to be pain free.   I want to dance, to run on the beach, to throw myself a party.  Pain free.

I have to try to call Troy and Jess back today. I talked to him on Friday, and he told me that Jess was pregnant.

And call Kristen, I want to see my almost grandson.

If L will help me out, I have to do some work on the fish tanks. But I will need her help to clean out the lower tank.

Today is a good day to do that, because I feel great.  Super great.  Super duper great!

Hearing the words my Grandmother use to say

OH dear,

bread and beer

if i was in heaven

I would not be here.

I slept through Comic Relif.  I hope Tivo got it.   Now that I have taken a small drink, it's back to bed for me. 

Woke up with the worst sore throat this morning. I don't have any throat coat spray, or anything else that i think I can use to help. Taking my medication even hurt. Did not sleep very well at all. SO napping is high on the to do list.

Today is Friday, and I have a slow day planned, finally.

I have to get some paper work filed, and send in my report to dada. Other than trying to get to the library, and blogging about yesterday I have nothing else planned. I do have to call the therapist and schedule a new session. My last session was scheduled for yesterday, and I was kind of booked.

Just a little bit about yesterday, I'll back track a bit later, when I am more awake, or rested.

Had to get up at 6 in order to arrive at the funeral home in time for the final viewing. Traffic was bad, no accidents, just bad. The highway really can not handle the amount of traffic crossing it every day. And what was once a little used highway exit has become a major intersection. The connection between Route 9 and Route 85 needs to be repaired, extended and enlarged. Traffic was backed up on to Route 9 waiting to get on to a small two lane road.

I left the house at 7:30 and did not arrive in Hopkinton until a few minutes after 9. People had already started to gather at the funeral home. One of my aunts was trying to get one of the female cousins to be a pallbearer, she has four daughters, and no sons, and the suggestion was to have all male cousins. She tried to get me to be a pallbearer, but I just looked at her and laughed. And suggested she speak to another female cousin, who is much stronger than most of the male cousins.

Joyce brought the young boy (eleven) who has been staying at her house with her. I wish she had found some one to watch him. He was dressed in a baggy shirt and jeans, and had no idea how to behave or who anyone was. It was wrong to bring him into this situation, he was out of place and did not know how to behave.

We drove from the funeral home, past the old family home, which looked empty, turned around in the parking lot of the dive bar down the street, and then went to the church.

Ok, this is the last one I promise.

At least until I see him again next week.

So cute!  and only 5 days old!!!!!!

Mary Josephine Leontie
Tuesday, November 14, 2006

HOPKINTON -- Mary Josephine (Dumas) Leontie, 95, of Hopkinton, died Sunday, Nov. 12, 2006, at Avery Manor in Needham.

She was the wife of George Dumas, who died in 1954, and Peter Leontie, who died in 1995.

Born in Everett, she was the daughter of the late Victoria (DeYoung) and James Maddox.

She enjoyed quilting, sewing, reading and was known as "Cookie Nana." Active in the town polls she helped with many functions at St. John's church.

She leaves two sons, James Dumas of Hopkinton and George Dumas of Framingham; four daughters, Joan Comeau, Jean Arseneau, Marilyn Hayward, all of Hopkinton, and Barbara Dumas of West Newton; two sisters, Barbara Maddox and Catherine Phelan, both of Everett; 31 grandchildren, 32 great-grandchildren and two great-great-grandchildren; and many nieces and nephews.

She was the mother of Victoria Stone, who died in 1971, and Robert Dumas, who died in 2001.

A funeral Mass will be celebrated Thursday, Nov. 16, at 10 a.m., at St. John's Church of Hopkinton.

Burial will follow in the St. John's Cemetery.

Visiting hours will be Wednesday, Nov. 15, from 5 to 8 p.m., at Chesmore Funeral Home (www.chesmorefuneralhome.com), 57 Hayden Rowe St., Hopkinton.

Memorial donations may be made to the Lupus Foundation, 40 Speen St., Suite 205, Framingham, MA 01701.

This tells you so little of who she was, it does not tell you about the funny times, or the times where she just made you laugh till your sides hurt.    We were telling each other funny stories how during quiet time you could hear her toonless humming.  Or how she would always have to have a pen and paper near by, or scissors to cut the paper with.   She had to be doing something.    Anything. 

Stories about my Grandparents. The two of them together were a trip.

Back in the 80's when I was going to college for the first time, I took a course in gerontology. As part of the class I had to interview an older person, and get their views of the changes the world had gone through. I interviewed my Grandparents, both Nana, and Grampa Pete. They picked on each other through the entire interview. As my grandmother was walking around her kitchen she reached into her pocket and discovered a small screw. She could not figure out why she had a small screw in her pocket and asked my grandfather if he had put it there. He said he had not, but suggested she had a screw loose. Nana tried to figure out where the screw went, first patting her head, then checking her feet. She looked at her chest and decided those had 'fallen off' years ago. Finally she decided the missing part had fallen out. Then deciding I had to put in my report that she was falling apart.


Back before televisions had remote controls my Grandparents would sit in their respective chairs and try to get the other one to get up and change the channel. There were only 3 networks, and a couple of uhf stations, back then, and they would watch one station no matter what was on, until one of them got tired of watching. They would go back and forth for the longest time, trying to get each other to get up. Everything from telling the other person they needed the exercise, to trying to decide which one did not like the television show first. I called from Connecticut once and asked how they were. She said, I'm waiting for your Grandfather to get off his lazy butt and change the channel. I heard a voice in the background say 'You change it, I'm watching this!'

She said back 'I can't change the television, I am talking to Janice.' Then she asked me to drive over and change the channel. I started laughing and reminded her I lived in another state. So they both decided that meant I did not want to visit them. I had to convince them through all the laughter, that I did want to visit them, but at two hours away it would be a very long trip just to change the channel. My grandfather agreed it was a bad idea. Who knew if they would still want the channel changed in two hours. They might like what was on television by then.

And jfuny stories staring just my grandmother

She was still doing well last December, and got a real kick of telling friends she was Santa Clauses mother. I can still her her tell people, especially woman who were complaining about being old, that if they thought they were old, she had given birth to Santa. I took my parents to visit her in the nursing home on Christmas day. She told the waiter at the dining room that her son needed coffee and fast. He had been up all night. I reminded her that as the elf driving the sleigh I had also been up all night. She looked at my youngest brother and ask him if he had been up all night. He said no, he had just gotten up and took the reindeer out of the harness. But he would be up late tonight mucking out the stalls again.


On her 90th Birthday, we had a big party at her home. There was a big sign in front of the house wishing her a happy 90th birthday. She found that annoying as she was trying to convince people she was only 80. When I asked her why she would lie about her age, she said, ”At my age, what else can I lie about!” She also hated having her picture taken saying no one wanted to look at her old ugly mug.

The day I introduced Tom to my family my Grandmother was there. She was sitting in a cushion chair, under a tree. The tree was giving her good shade and after a while the sun moved and she was not getting any more shade. She was asked if she wanted to move herself and the nice chair. But she said she would stay where she was. She complained about being hot again, so some else asked again if she wanted to move. Some where along the line it was suggested both Nana and the chair get moved. So Tom and my brother Joe picked up her and the chair and moved her to the other side of the table where it was shaded. The rest of the family fell over with laughter.

On Monday am cable went down.   I have cable tv, phone, and internet.   The tv came back by the end of the day.  The phone this morning.   And it was not until 4 this afternoon that the internet came back.   How we missed you.

Just starting to deal with the death of my grandmother.  Posting some funny stories about her.  It helps to make me feel better.  Funny, the last grandparent left is the nasty one.  The one no one can stand.  The one I always fight with.  

HUM, now that the Democrats are in power, we suddenly remembered about Darfur.

We should have been paying attention all along