Here's a Plan, Stan…

And once again, Newt makes a visit to deliver a message. Like I’ve said before, love him or hate him, the man does make sense. Watch the vid:

To read the plan you can find it here. It will take all of 30 seconds to read and maybe longer to think about. The recent past election was supposed to be all about change and improvement, I’d like to really see that happen. But it’s not going to as long as we just blindly allow our leaders to do whatever the heck they please while talking out of both sides of their mouths. According to our Constitution, the government works for us, not the other way around – it’s time we put our foots down and get them to reverse this utterly absurd trainwreck.

Update: I went looking for an actual transcript of this financial behemoth and finally found one. If you are interested this link will send you to a page that will give you the full transcript of this bill. All 678 pages of it. I suggest you actually force yourself to read at least a little of it – we all need to know what our government is indebting us to, don’t we?

Oh and if you simply can’t bear to slug your way through the 600 plus pages of a largely unreadable bill, this article hits the highlights and gives you a good summary of what the bill is stimulating. Not sure there are any economists out there who would agree that this is stimulating but then the government doesn’t need agreement since they have all that power and such…

Thought for the day:
“A government big enough to give you everything you want, is big enough to take away everything you have” Thomas Jefferson

Expectations – Theme Fridays

The discontent of my expectations – I do it without realizing it. Expect things. From myself. From others. Usually they are unfair or unrealistic. It makes me wonder where it all starts – these troublemakers, the expectations.

Was I born with them? Are they are part of my genetic make-up? Part and parcel of being a woman? Or do they not discriminate based on gender? And really, what is their purpose? Reassurance, a mere desire to know the future, to keep me or others in line? No, none of that sounds right, rings true.

I’m sure a head doctor would have a field day with this whole concept – we are preconditioned by society, politicians, the ozone, blah, blah, to set up expectations so that we can prove to ourselves that life means nothing. Or some such. I don’t think that’s true either.

Perhaps it is just one of the many elements of life that works its way into our daily cinema. We can after all, expect that the sun will rise in the morning and set in the evening. That dogs will bark at mailmen. That babies will cry and coo. That if you plant a seed and water it, something will grow. That time passes whether we want it to or not. So then if we can expect these things, why not others?

I think we get into trouble when it comes to other people and ourselves. The human animal, ever a mystery will never respond in the way that you want it to or believe it should. Or more precisely it is the spirit housed in that bag of bones, skin, sinew, flesh and fluids. No matter what anyone thinks or says I do not believe you can own a spirit – of another or yourself. Like a magical mixed up chemistry project, the spirit is both benign and volatile and there is no way to predict which it will be and when it will be. Yet, crazy, unrealistic and ever hopeful spirit that I am, I persist. I think if I can only get the right view of it all, it will make sense and I will understand. I cannot help it, this is the permanent quest of my life – to understand. Myself and others.

And just when I think I may have a bead on it, a sense of something, those assinine expectations sneak in – laying a false foundation and I crash through the floors to the basement or find myself up the fucking chimney. Leaving me to vow never to expect anything ever again. If I could keep that promise, life might be simpler.

Go see what Jess is expecting and then what Christine is expecting – I’m sure it will be worth the trip.

Swimming Pool – Theme Fridays

The swimming pool was a beast with black tile eyes and chlorinated breath. The Loch Ness of high school gymnasium – filled with sack-clothed fishes and whistle-blowing whales. Splashes that told the truth with thunder unlike doctored scales and fingers shoved down throats.

Littered with forged supplications for pardons of a dozen bevied beauty queens whose synchronized menses assured perfect hair and makeup for math 101 and lunch room frolics.

Dank and smelly, I tasted the mildew as I sucked in breath, spied the perv janitor as I bent awkward in my embarrassment, nauseous in anticipation of hitting the ocean of germs that promised to suck me into its chasm of death.

Go, Rodgers!

I sprung like a coil, rusted and stiff, crashed through a surface of unyielding blue and dropped like a Buick over a cliff. Toes skirted the scum and like rockets they propelled me toward the light. Arms flailing, choking and gasping for air, I crawled out, half dead, rubbing my aching head and uttering voodoo curses at anyone who looked my way.

Yeah, welcome to high school.

To take a dip in Jess’s pool, go here. If you want to do the backstroke with Christine, go here.

Mad As Hell

I’ve had it. I’m done. I’m done with petty people and their petty games. I am done with nasty sniping remarks that cut you to the quick. With small minded, insipid, incompetent boobs who think they can run the world when they can’t even run a vcr. I’m done with know it alls who think they have the answer to it all. With people who take credit for the hard work of others and then stab them in the back for being kind to them. I’m done with idiots who don’t have two IQs to put together and if they did would start a forest fire that they would blame on their next door neighbor.

I’m done with jobs that kick you in the teeth whilst embracing all your hard work as their own. With morons who question everyone but themselves. With accusers who never look at or own up to their misdeeds. With slackers and shits. Bitter bitches and lazy asses. Pigs who wouldn’t see their own dirt if they were sleeping in it. Control freaks. Big babies. Natter baskets. Gossip whores. And small minded fucks who should be shot for wasting space on the planet.

Sick of being the nice guy. Of being considerate. Of doing unto others. Of caring when no one else gives a flying fuck. Of trying to do the right thing. Of busting my butt for people who would throw water on me if my hair was on fire. Of saying please and thank you and would you mind? Of thinking that the nice guy can ever win. Of being ignored, disrespected, mistreated, maligned, lied about, analysed, cut up into little pieces and thrown about the room for fun. Of being a pasty and an idiot. Of believing in the basic goodness of others. And telling myself they don’t mean it when they say and do things that make your head explode. Being the doormat, the problem solver, the shit handler, the dumpee of all the dumpable crap that can be found. Of being the giant brain for people too stupid to find their asses with both hands. Of it all. Sick. To. Death. I. Am. Done!!

So…how was your day?


He Said, He Said

The last few days, the news has been full of the story of Senator Craig for his scandalous admission to disorderly conduct. Since I didn’t know much about it, I listened to the various talking head radio dudes discuss it.

Apparently there is some guy named Michael Rogers who is somehow responsible for ‘outting’ the Senator because apparently he voted against ‘his people’ as regards yo a few bills over the years in which he has been a Senator.

I heard the actual tape of the conversation between the Senator and the policeman who ‘busted’ him. Apparently, they were in side by side stalls and their feet touched and the cop saw the Senator’s hand below the stall. There were also foot taps. Now, call me crazy but I really don’t understand how this becomes scandalous or even how anybody gets charged for this – but from what I could gather it is supposed to be some sort of gay bathroom code.

Honestly, I could care less if the Senator is or is not gay. That’s his business and I don’t think anyone has a right to out him if he doesn’t want to be outted. But I do care that taxpayer money was wasted on something so ridiculous with so little evidence (if you could call it that) and I do care that the media on both sides of the aisle waste enormous amounts of time on something so damned stupid and I do care that they aren’t all more concerned with much more important matters about which they do nothing. And I do care that other politicians are now calling for resignations and pretending to take some sort of moral high ground, when every last one of them has done something as bad but probably much worse (the difference being that they haven’t been caught yet).

But mostly, what bothers me about this whole ridiculous waste of time and energy is that it is yet another game of gotcha. Both sides do it. And both of them have nary the room to speak. I can’t help but wonder how we manage to vote into office, to take care of matters of the day and times, such immature, childish, self-absorbed idiots. It’s like a bunch of bullies standing around the playground having a pissing contest, whilst meanwhile, the actual reason they are up on that Hill and have the perks and status is completely and utterly ignored.

I am sick to death of a media that panders to the basest instincts in we, the Great Unwashed. I am sick to death of Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Harry Reid, Obama, Rudy, Mitt, Fred, McCain, Al Gore, Michael Moore, Bill O’Reilly, Bill Mahr, Susan Saradon, Bono and Barney the purple Dragon. I am sick of people who are more sick, twisted, stupid and incompetent than any of the rest of us, running this world and trying to force feed us what we should think, how we should feel, what we should eat, drink, wear and do.

Senator Craig, stay or leave. I don’t care. Hillary Clinton run for president, if you get elected then I guess this country by and large will get what it a deserves. Because honestly, if we can’t help but get hung up in this kind of garbage that has absolutely no effect in the greater scheme of things and get stuck in the small picture – we’ll all be having little bar codes tatooed on the back of our heads the day after Hillary is inagurated.

So, that’s what I think. What do you think?


I Want a Do-Over!

This past week at work has been unbelievable. Besides the usual sniping, blind-siding employees  that seek to ruin my life – it seems the whole fricking universe wants to get into the act too.

Okay, Monday was okay and Tuesday started out okay but then – somebody asked me something which I needed to check on the Internet. Ooops. No internet. Crap. Have everybody check their computers to see if they are having the same problem. Yep. We’re all screwed for that. Oh well, life goes on.

A little while later, somebody said the fax wasn’t working. I noticed a message saying the cartridge was low, so I sent someone to go get a new one. Nope, that didn’t fix it. Hmmm.

I called the IT guy we use and told him the problems we were having. Naturally, he insisted in doing one of those ‘let me walk you through it’ things that never work. So, he said he’d come over. He arrived later and checked this and that and nope, we simply did not have an internet connection.Crap.

So then I spend an hour trying to figure out who the provider is because nobody knows. Since we have an Earthlink account which we pay every month, I assumed it was them. After an hour on the phone with them I realize that it probably isn’t them. Is the bookeeper any help? You know, the one who is in charge of such things as vendors – uh..duh…nope. I grab the phone bill and discover yes, my dear friends at AT&T provide the service. Okay, we go through the whole bullshit routine with them. You know the one, where the Tech guy on the other end of the line just knows it’s a user problem? Sweet. And he’s asking me which line it is – we have 15 lines mind you. And I’m thinking ‘how the hell should I know? they installed it, why can’t they just look it up on the computer?’

Finally the guy figures it out after forcing me to read a 20 page phone bill. Ah yes, it’s the fax line. So, let me get this straight – my dsl is on my fax line and so that then means they are both out, right? Crap! At least I have my backup fax line. Ah…no…that one is out too.

When can they come to fix it? Tonight at 7 p.m. What? We’ll all be gone by then you dope – this is a business, not my house, which should be pretty obvious since I have 15 phone lines, doncha think?

Okay, tomorrow between 9 & 1. It sucks but I can live with it. We just need to hang on until then. Oh by the way, the receptionist just told me the credit card machine doesn’t work either. Okay, call the company. Shit, you need an internet connection for that too? And guess what? Most of our transactions are on credit cards. So now the receptionist is writing down numbers and other pertinent info so she can run the charges the next day.

So, Wednesday I call up the company to get an update and make sure they are really coming. Guess what? The tech guy tells me that it’s actually a bigger problem and my repair ticket has been canceled because it’s actually a whole grid that is out and it will take days. Days! Probably not til Monday.

So, long story short – we spent the rest of the week without internet, faxes or a credit card machine. And I don’t even know if it’s going to be working when I get in this morning.

Oh yeah, and the doc told me she’s going on vacation in two weeks and we’ll just have to reschedule all the patients and make the associates take care of things.

Oh yeah, and the bookeeper actually twigged that if we don’t get things fixed we may not be able to do payroll on Tuesday.

Oh yeah, then there was this crazy patient who had filed some stupid ass complaint and so we had to run around trying to find stuff that we could fax…ah…er…send over to the board, so they would know she is just a nut job who threatened to off herself at the office a couple of months ago.

Oh yeah and the attorney who is (bumbling) handling a legal case of grand larceny for us – is calling me every two minutes from the police station to help him with stuff I gave him months ago.

Yep, a do-over. I deserve one and need one. Or at least have things back to normal. Wish me luck – I just know I’ll need it. Crap!


You’re Not the Boss of Me


I had a very interesting conversation with an employee the other day. This particular employee has been giving me a hard time since day one and really drives me up the wall.

It started as a dispute over an error on her timecard – I’d shorted her a half hour. I told her so, after she complained and offered to cut her a check right then and there or to add it to her next paycheck. She insisted it was more than that, and essentially I wasted an hour teaching her math so she could understand, in fact, it was a half an hour. Now this girl is a medical assistant and can’t seem to do basic math. Are we alarmed yet?

Of course, the conversation didn’t end there – oh no, there were many things that had to be discussed. Temper tantrums and flashes of anger, which I advised her to knock off and she did sort of…

As the time ticked off and essentially I was being paid to deal with this whining girl and she was being paid to whine to me, we got to the crux of the matter. She informed me that she was taking two vacations over the next 8 weeks. Two vacations???? This girl hasn’t even worked here a year, and has taken one week already to go to Hawaii and a long weekend to go to Vegas. Apparently there is a family reunion and a cruise she absolutely must go to.

Now, look, I don’t like to spoil people’s fun and I don’t really mind trying to work something out so people can go to things like family reunions and so forth. But give me a break – she expects to be given off essentially four weeks during the a course of 9 months employment. Call me crazy but I’ve never worked anywhere that would give that kind of time off in such a short employment.

And the kicker is, that she didn’t ask me. She told me. Like, “Oh, by the way, I’m taking these dates and these dates off. I have a family thing and then I’m going on a cruise.”

Eh? I asked her if she could take them at the same time, schedule them back to back so it would only be one leave. Oh no, can’t do that. Because her boyfriend is paying for it. When asked if she could persuade her boyfriend to schedule the cruise right before or right after the reunion, she said “I can’t afford to take that much time off at once.” Excuse me?

She can’t afford to take that much time off. So what? I’m supposed to be worried about her finances while she throws the practice into mayhem because she’s leaving on her little trips? She doesn’t have anyone who is coming to cover her, nope, she figures her supervisor can just cover for her during her absence.

So, I say, “Well if your supervisor can cover you during your absence, then why do I need two medical assistants?” You know? Why? If the supervisor can do all the work that needs to be done, what the hell is she doing?

Ooops, no answer for that one. Nope, she has to think about that. Kind of like her math problem, she just doesn’t know the answer. She just knows that she wants what she wants and she’s going to tell me and I’m going to do it.

“You’re not the boss of me, ” I tell her. “It may come as a shock, but I’m actually the boss of  you. And I just don’t know if we can give you the time off. Sorry.”

“Well, what are you going to do,”she asks. “Fire me?”

I smiled wryly and left the room.

You know, she’s been awfully nice to me since then. Let’s see if that lasts.


Synopsize Me!

The bane of my existence of late has been the synopsis for my novel – or should I say the lack thereof? Yeah, probably. This is a puzzle for me, since generally speaking I haven’t much trouble writing anything. In my illustrious (or not so illustrious) career as a writer I have written menus, newletters, how-to articles, stock offerings, business plans, short stories, poems, novels, blurbs, ad copy, business letters and I guess pretty much anything else you can think of. Yet, this animal known as the synopsis stymies me. It sends me out to shop, pull weeds, clean baseboards, shampoo the dog, vacuum, even ironing. Anything so I don’t have to face the fact that I simply suck at these things.I’ve gone to countless websites, read countless how-to and advice articles on the thing, begged many of the writers I know for tips, tricks and advice and really to no avail. I do have one started. But you know it’s been started for quite a while now and despite constant watering and fertilization it hasn’t become a synopsis yet. Which probably means I’m actually going to have to do something about it, with it, around it.I have recently employed the help of a fellow writer and asked her to give me a deadline or something, to see if that actually helps. Well, she has given me the deadline, so she has held up her end of the bargain. And I’ve written it on a little piece of paper that I prop up against my monitor (and successfully ignore almost always), so I suppose I’ve begun to do my part. But…

Now, for those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about, a little background: A couple years ago, maybe longer, I wrote a murder mystery that was really quite a lot of fun to write. Then it sat, because…well, then there is that marketing thing that must be done. You’d think since I’ve done marketing for other people and was actually paid for it, that it’d be a snap for me to do some for myself – not so much. So, it sat some more. A few months ago I had a friend read the manuscript which sort of got me fired up again and again I was determined to do this synopsis and I did get started and about a 1/3 of the way through but then – clunk – stopped. The bitch of it is that I need the darn thing to interest agents and publishers in my novel. I can’t just send it to them with a note that says, please read. They just won’t go for that approach anymore. Too bad, but true.

So, here I sit, waiting for the synopsis faery to drop by and sprinkle some magic dust over my computer so I can wake up to a perfectly done and presentable synopsis. I am getting a little worried though, my last call to her wasn’t returned and time is zipping by.

So, now I’m going to do something that I probably shouldn’t – I’m going to tell you the deadline. That way, if you’re in a particularly naggy mood on that day you can rag my butt about whether or not it’s done. Or you can make fun of me because I am just a total synopsis slacker. Take your pick. The deadline is – June 5th of this year (damn it!). So synchronize your watches and get those water balloons ready. Otay?



Been doing a lot of thinking lately. Sometimes that’s good. Sometimes that’s annoying. Right now, it’s annoying. I’m not really in a thinking mood, you know?

I’d really rather just bum around, enjoy Spring, the sunshine, the birds, the flowers, my ever expanding garden – but….

My darn mind won’t turn off. Everything I see, seems to have some deeper meaning in it. Or maybe it’s all just too serious right now. I’d love to find that goofy, ain’t life a joke flow again. I could stand riding it all the way to the end.

Isn’t it funny how things come in waves? Maybe in life, but definitely as a writer. No matter how much I try to direct my mind and my attention onto a specific mind-set it simply won’t cooperate. It just wants to ponder and think and consider and all that really boring stuff.

What a bother. A mind that refuses to stop thinking. Damn my mind. Damn it all to hell.

I need to find an adventure.Something stupid and ridiculous. Something that I shouldn’t even consider doing. Something that is way beyond excusable for a woman of my age. Do you think they’ll do a spin-off called “Ancient Idol”?




So, yesterday started out as a usual Saturday. Errands. Take the car in for an oil change and smog check. Peruse the local bargain shops for bargains. Go home, write, blog, answer emails. You know the drill…

Nothing was really happening, mind wise, couldn’t think of anything to post, tried several ideas and they all sucked. Then just as I was starting to get a good idea, my phone rang. Ah, good it’s the doc, she wants to talk shop. On my day off? Damn! Okay. So we talk and talk and talk and talk. Finally, the conversation comes to an end. Phew – still have some of the afternoon left. But…I have to call Zelda to ask her about something. And we talk and talk and talk.

Back to the post. I started writing it out by hand until I was on a roll and then it was time to fire up the computer and get going. No problem, right?

Okay, so now loading wordpress is taking forever. When I log in it just pops me back to the homepage. I try again. Same thing. Again, same thing. Again (am I a glutton for rejection, ah, yes) same thing. Shit!

I click on my homepage. Nope, that just doesn’t even want to load. Gmail? Maybe, let’s try. Well Google was willing to come up and I even managed to log in but it refused to give me my mail. Tell me something, what is it about a computer connection not cooperating that will make a person sit there for hours and hours and continue to try? I mean, I’m a relatively intelligent person…according to the experts I have a pretty high IQ – yet when it is obvious the ISP is messed up – their servers are down or they are screwing with you somehow – I just keep rebooting and trying again.

I guess it’s like when you tell someone, no – they are just compelled to get you to say, yes. Is that it? It sure must be something like that because I just couldn’t let it go. I had visions of never blogging again because I couldn’t get a connection. I blamed my computer, although Roomie and Zelda were both having the same problems. I checked the news to see if some hideous world event had happened that would cause enormous traffic on the Net.

I turned it off, finally realizing that it wasn’t going to work itself out, at least for the time being. I watched a movie with Roomie, had some dinner, played with the dog. And yet…at 11:30 I just had to check it again. What am I, so sort of masochist? Apparently so, as sadly I discovered it was still a no-go. Hell, I even dreamed about trying and trying and trying.

Some may say I have a problem and they’d be right. Like millions of others I am totally and utterly addicted to the Internet. It is a co-dependency unlike any other because there is no reason on Earth that humans should be so dependent on a thing, an electronic siren that tempts with more time-wasting features ever known to man. Nor should they wear their grumpy pants when it won’t cooperate. And yet….

Happily, my addiction is cooperating today (for now) – the grumpy pants are off and the happy feet are doing their thing. Okay, okay, I know…can anybody say, Get a life?