Trauma, Change, People and Toasters.

********** WARNING MAY TRIGGER **********

THIS POST CONTAINS VIDEO AND THEMES WHICH MAY TRIGGER FLASHBACKS

THIS IS GOING TO BE ONE OF MY RARE DARKER POSTS, I'M SORRY.

Trauma changes people. There is no question in my mind as to the veracity of this statement. It is a fact, not even a theory or a nice safe construct by the mental health community. For years in public service I was aware this was a concept, but I had precious little understanding of what this really meant to a life.

Now however as a survivor of trauma, and lots of it, I can relate to it in ways I wish I wasn't capable of at this level. I am I fear, forever changed, altered, never to reclaim parts of myself, my life that I knew before. This periodically weighs heavy on my heart, because for all her flaws, to woman I was, did not deserve to die. What she had to offer the world, and brought to it wasn't horrible. She was kind and understanding, competent, useful, helpful and gifted. She had every bit as much right to a life as anyone else. But if you look for her in my eyes, well She's Not There. To be honest, no-one laments her loss more than I do in ways, because things that she never would have noticed, or cared much about, send me into a tailspin. I miss what she took for granted as something she could do easily and I cannot do at all.

In therapy we talk. And talk. And talk more. Always talking, really I fear at times I will tire of the talking. And in ways I have. I have not found a new therapist here in Ohio because I'm terrified of trying to find a new one, and worse, having to bring a new one up to speed. Not because I'm afraid to share what I've been through, but because the act of relating it, pouring it out again, is like a knife to my heart. Inserted slowly, turned, twisted and tearing away at me, but I don't die from it somehow. Nope, somehow I still go on, but in this kind of agony that often makes me want to sell out the resurrection ship and embrace the bomb.

For those of you who don't follow the new Battlestar Galactica I'll briefly explain her in a moment. For those of you who DO follow it, I just want to state for the record it still worries me that the character from the show I most identify with is Gina. She was the "Six" assigned to Cain's Battlestar Pegasus. Mind you out of the four seasons, she was a "minor" character and plot point that began and ended in short span of episodes. First a brief youtube video that struck me while looking for something to anchor this, and give those of my readers who don't know BSG some kind of idea what I'm talking about.

The series has any number of different women, different characters one can identify with. It says something about me that I should identify with Gina. Not something terribly positive, especially given her end. But I'm working on it. Not to mention the fact that while I have the frightening ability to understand now how, or why she might directly or indirectly take so many innocent people with her, it is still thankfully only my nightmares from childhood that have me taking life that does not belong to me. For those who didn't follow the show, Gina is the woman in this clip who is chained and abused, and eventually starts an atomic weapon counting down and just sits there waiting for the flash. Ostensibly it was a move on the part of a resistance group to deal a blow to the fleet, but in reality, she knew it was the only way for her to find peace.

In the series, Gina was technically a machine. A Cylon, which in the story arc is a race of self aware, highly intelligent machines created by man to serve, who eventually rebelled and started a war against their creators. In the story arc, the humans are with a few notable exceptions, unable to see the Cylons are real, as alive, as something more than machines. In Gina's case, she was discovered as being a spy, and because she was the lover of the ships commander, Admiral Cain, she was treated to some seriously inhuman abuse. But she's a machine, so who cares some people might say.

See that's the problem, it's way too easy for "people" to distance themselves from the horror they inflict on other people. Be they "machines" or not. Gina is of a race of machines, but that doesn't mean in this case that she doesn't have feelings. It doesn't mean her feelings or rights can be discarded on a whim because she's somehow less than, or inferior to anyone else else, regardless of their origin. In the story arc, Cylon's have a type of immortality. If a given body dies, they are downloaded to the "resurrection ship" and loaded into a new body.

In a powerful scene in the brig, after lying there catatonic for days or longer, her body a canvas of pain from the abuse the Humans inflicted on her, she finally asks Boltar (The geek with the glasses) to help her kill herself. As her story develops, she sees an opportunity to deal a crushing blow to her "own" people (the Cylons) and help the Humans in their fight toward freedom. She tells the Humans how to find and destroy the resurrection ship. This means that any Cylons killed, stay dead. It also ends her chance at immortality, because once the resurrection ship is gone, when she dies, that's it, her life is over.

I could see where this was going from a mile off. Probably because given the chance to do something similar, at one time I would have. To be clear, the single biggest reason I'm alive now, and working so hard to overcome my own past is because I know for a fact, that if I were to end this life, the pain would travel with me to my next life. How? Because in 1961 in a bathroom tub, I took my life. I remember every detail as clearly as anything that's happened to me in this life, I remember how it all felt. In some ways to be honest I remember it better than some of the details of this life. I remember failing. Oh I ended the body I had at the time, but how I felt, what I'd been through I remember in great and painful detail. Since there is no resurrection ship that I can have destroyed to render me mortal, I'm stuck dealing with this. All of it.

Now before you say it. No, suicide doesn't solve anything but not perhaps for the reasons you're thinking. We are all, each of us, every bit as immortal as the Cylons only more so, because there's no resurrection ships involved. You may not believe it but we are. And if you're thinking nothing is ever bad enough to warrant taking of one's own life, be thankful you have no idea what you're talking about. Ignorance truly is bliss in this case. So unless you've been imprisoned and beaten more than half to death, REPEATEDLY, please don't presume to tell me nothing is ever that bad. Because not long ago, I was in effect, if not in fact chained to that prison floor waiting and praying for the strength and ability to take my own life. I can more than just identify with Gina, for the purposes of what I'm trying to share here, I am Gina.

So Gina made it possible for the Humans to destroy this threat to themselves, but it was obvious that was a step towards her own goal of death. Because then she'd truly cease to exist, leaving behind the horrific memories of her abuse and pain, leaving behind the flashbacks, the triggers, the scars, both physical and more importantly emotional and mental. She would never again have to live through a flashback. Never again awaken screaming from a nightmare wishing she could die and finally escape. Never have something, a sight, a smell, a sound, a turn of phrase, a look or a touch trigger a flashback.

For those who've never lived through one, grossly over simplified, a flashback is when you are reminded, suddenly and without warning, of something horrific you've lived through in the past. But it's not as simple as a memory that you can dismiss. A flashback is often a full on reliving of what you experienced. Every detail, how it looked, felt, sounded, smelled, EVERYTHING in a level of detail so real, and so present as to block out what's going on in reality at the moment. Suddenly you are back in that moment. Being abused, violated, beaten and raped, whatever the case may be. I mention the examples I do because those are the things I went through.

Rape victims find it difficult or impossible to ever connect psychically with another human being. Those who've been beaten and raped by someone we loved, gave ourselves to heart, mind, body and soul to that person often find it difficult or impossible to ever connect with another human being more than just physically, but mentally, emotionally and spiritually as well. Often the thought alone of having someone touch us makes us flinch and pull away, because we are terrified at some level that it could happen again. Regrettably, people who have never had to deal with anything like this have no idea what it's like to have lived through something like this.

So, back to Gina. She started out as someone confident, assured, capable, and even loving and loved, who happened to be an enemy agent. Does nothing to discount the fact that she has a heart, mind and some say, a soul of her own. As a Toaster (The Human Slang term for Cylons) some might argue that machines cannot have souls. Whatever the case may be, I'm not here to debate a machine lifeforms soul. Because truly, we Humans are factually merely a collection of inorganic compounds that have become a bio-organic machines of incredible complexity. The Cylon "Skin Job" Toasters are bio-organic machines of incredible complexity. We have souls, who are we to say that they doesn't have souls?

In Gina's case, she believed, and to the best of her knowledge and belief, the end of the resurrection ship would mean her death ended her pain, suffering, memories, flashbacks, nightmares and scars. All of them. Forever. She'd never have to relive that trauma again. You know there's a powerful allure in that.

The void beacons, "Come forget, have it all erased, never have to remember again."

Gina, after selling out the resurrection ship, sets about making possible her own death. The certainty of oblivion that means her memories, feelings, her very soul is blasted into an incoherent morass of random energy by the atomic flash and pursues this end with a single mindedness of a woman on a mission. She sits there with the armed weapon waiting for the massive release of energy and light that will erase her from the universe as if she'd never been ... born? But to get there, she's become someone else. She cannot connect with anyone, cannot even allow someone to touch her with affection because of her fear that she'll be hurt again.

I can relate. It's been years since Earl and I were in the same room, let alone the same state. It's been years since he died. I've even been to his grave. But I still have trouble letting people touch me, connecting with people, even having them too close often causes me to back away in fear. I'm not the confident. outgoing, gregarious capable, talented woman I once was. I'm no longer able to do things I once did, and I often look back at what I can remember of the past and wonder at what's been lost. That woman, that unique and essential being is gone. With her, the hopes, dreams and aspirations of a future she'd dreamed of her whole life equally lost to time. The future she often looked forward to? Don't look for her because She's Not There. She's as gone as Gina, because I remain where she once was, and I'll be happy to make it out alive. By that I mean, not dying at my own hand.

Because I'm faced with the soul crushing fact that when this body I inhabit no longer functions, I'll be back to the other side of the veil between life and death, and I'll have some tough choices to make. Where to go, what next to do. Do I move onto another life, or spend some time on the other hand recovering from this life? What I want to know is why do I have to carry this with me. Why must this scar on my soul haunt me. I've been assured by people who claim to know that I won't feel this way forever, but I'm so tired now, sometimes it overwhelms me, threatening to engulf me, and have the darkness and pain return. Or worse, leave me so angry I do something rash and unlike me. Something the woman I used to be wasn't even capable of. Her heart and soul hadn't been poisoned, she hadn't had her innocence forcibly stripped from her by a heartless, selfish machine of a being that was so self involved that he couldn't or wouldn't see her as a real live person with a heart, soul, mind and body that mattered.

Earl was no matter how I chose to explain him, a horrible creature. A soulless machine bent on what HE wanted and the hell with anyone else. Did he have a soul? Yes, regrettably, because he still haunts me some. That's a story for another day, another post. I'm forced based on experience to acknowledge he has a soul, and I know that one day, in another time and place, he;s going to have to live through something as horrific and soul crushing. But I wouldn't wish that on him or anyone else regardless of how he treated me.

For me, I take things day by day, making progress when and where I can. Taking back what I can of life. I am not the same, not even close, to the woman I was before I met Earl, or even when we married. Trauma changes people. Forever. Once you've lived through something traumatic, you are never the same. Even long after any wounds have healed, you are left scared, broken and tired. You even get sick and tired of being sick and tired. Sure, it sounds funny, but it's anything but. In cases where there is mental and emotional trauma to go with the physical, it's even harder.

I cannot tell you how many time I've said, with complete seriousness and sincerity that I'd wished that a stranger had attacked me in a park, beat and raped me there and left me for dead, because you know it would have been easier to heal. He'd have been someone I had no feelings for, had never given myself to, never trusted with my heart, mind, body and soul.

The woman I was in the time before would have had sympathy for Gina, but would never have identified with Gina from a first person perspective. The woman who dreamed of a future that included a home, husband, children and grand children, growing old hand in hand with the man (or woman) of her dreams on the porch watching the sunset and her grand children play in the yard? Well don't look for her on that porch in a home full of love and family, because She's Not There. And now she never will be. Because I'm not her. I'm terrified of letting anyone that close to me again and if even if I live to be 168 as she was once told, I don't see myself having that house, that porch, children and grandchildren, let alone someone that I trust with my heart, soul, mind and body.

Trauma changes people, and Toasters too.

I spent time on a floor a nearly catatonic mess, but the chains that held me were those around my heart. The scars not on my body but my soul. Eventually I got up off the floor, and since I know throwing my life away isn't going to solve anything, I'm working on living with something done to me for no reason. I'm left with the lingering damage to my heart, soul, mind and body.

I am not the same. And the majority of my time and energy is spent finding new ways to live in a world I don't feel safe in. Left with the knowledge that my trust, heart, mind, body and soul was betrayed and violated by the one person I thought I was safe with. The one person who swore he'd never hurt me, and would love me always. I have to learn how to trust again. I just don't know if I can, because I'm no longer the person I was.

What is the cost of unlimited phone service?

Sometime ago I came to a crisis point where my phone plan was getting in the way of what I needed to do in life. When I spoke to the phone company because I'd been with them for quite a number of years they offered me unlimited service for ten dollars a month more than I was paying them a month. Historically I almost never went over my allocated peak minutes. Then again I watched my usage like an owl tracking prey at night. The crisis involved helping my sister deal with some things back home in Colorado and quickly set a torch of my allocation of minutes for the month.

It was worth it I thought to pay the extra ten dollar a month not to have to panic if my usage went over again, so I quickly accepted my carriers offer.

Today while suffering the limitations of chatting with a friend online, she wondered if we knew each other well enough to exchange phone numbers. I met her through reading her blog, added her as a friend on Facebook and until today we were more or less electronic friends. But I felt like I knew her well enough, and have developed a respect for her that I sent my number to her straight away as my reply. Seconds later the phone rang. As we hung up after a time of chatting it dawned on me, this was the best part of unlimited phone service. Enjoyed talking with my friend free from the worries of peak minutes or off peak, what plan I was on, what network and so forth. What is the cost of unlimited phone service? It's priceless!

Luxury, Tithing and Carbon Footprint.

I have a new definition of "luxury" these days. Luxury is making bread often enough to intentionally give ten percent of it to the local wildlife. On purpose. Luxury is taking part of a loaf of bread I only baked four days ago and throwing it to the birds, squirrels, ducks and deer.

I can go back to sharing some of my bounty, tithing if you will. Instead of handing it to some church that is only likely to use my money to tell people what they CANNOT do, I can return something healthy to the world to help nurture and grow the world from whence my bounty came. Tithing is helping the world and all of God's creatures, not just the upright, bipedal ones.

Minimizing my carbon footprint means the gift of luxury, the cycle of life. Giving something back instead of just taking all the time.

I've wanted a bread machine for years, but I'd not really considered what it could mean in the bigger picture. I wanted it because it would mean less work for me to have it, just push a button and fresh bread on demand without all the time involved, plus I don't have to heat up a whole oven for a single loaf of bread. So I'm saving money all the way around.

For years I've been bitching about the fact that a fresh loaf of bread cost a nickel in 1905 and now a century later is three dollars for something that is already several days old by the time I take out a slice out of the plastic bag and it's traveled hundreds of miles to get to me. In 1905 the ingredients were planted, harvested, ground and made into bread by hand. From there the fresh loaves were usually placed into the window ready for sale, by the same hands that made them, and when sold, were placed into a bag by those same hands. By the time I cut into the loaf at home, the bread was still fresh. Making my own at home made it even fresher. A bit more expensive because of my hard work, but it was much a labor of love.

Over many years between then and now I kept on making my own bread whenever I could because having grown up in a house where fresh bread was a regular commodity and the smell of it baking brings back good memories it was well worth the work. Machinery however replaced all the hard working hands between planting and my table, and I can go into the supermarket and get a loaf of bread that has never been touched by human hands. Machines were supposed to cut costs and improve our life by making things easier and cheaper.

Easier and cheaper? Three dollars? What? Plus the fresh made bread a century ago was made with very few ingredients and NO man made chemicals, fillers, preservatives or whatever else goes into it these days. It's made with ingredients that were shipped hundreds or more miles to be made into bread. It's made by machines, packaged, shipped, even sliced all by machines.

So I make my own when I can, but more and more the time and effort is outside my energy and time level. It's the remembering to punch the dough down, let it rise, do it again and so forth. I know that sounds like a cop out, but given what I'm recovering from, I'm just not ready for the demands making a loaf of bread once a week or so is more than I'm ready for right now.

A bread machine, I put everything in, press some buttons and walk away. When it beeps, the bread is done. And it doesn't have much, or if I buy fully organic ingredients, any artificial ingredients. Plus I can, while it's cooling, slice off a bit, give it a touch of butter and savor the taste right then. No fuss, muss or bother, and it's healthy for me.

So it's kind of a win/win/win situation all the way around. Cheaper, healthier, easier, fresher bread? How can I go wrong. So it dawned on me that giving something back just kinda completes the cycle of life here by nurturing nature some. And you know, that feels good to me. Being part Amerind and having gotten a flavor for the way my ancestors lived the land, giving something back really appeals to me. Plus there's a certain irony, even perhaps justice in feeding bread to the world around me that is fresher than a loaf I could buy in the store.

Because I know that from the time it comes out of the ovens, cools, gets put in bags, loaded onto trays, stacked on carts, loaded into trucks, shipped to the distributer, unloaded and then loaded onto other trucks, shipped to stores, rolled into the store, and finally makes it onto shelves it's already at least four days old. So when I buy it and take it home it's already older than what I'm giving back to the world, so I kinda like that.

Who'd have thunk it?

It's 11:57 as I write this. In the morning. Which is why it say 11:57 and not 23:57 which is usually when I stop in. I have another post in the works, but I just thought I'd remark briefly at the wonder of being awake and underway in the day at such an hour. Then again I was in bed by 03:03 for a change instead of 07:30. Yes, I keep time around here in 24 hour notation, more in self defense than anything. Lets me know where in the day I am. Which considering the different places and times I make it to bed, and then wake up, this makes my life easier.

This morning for example I woke in Atlantis. As in the fictional city of Atlantis from the Stargate franchise. Admittedly she's not as far away as she once was, now that she's out in the San Fransisco bay, but still it's nice to wake up someplace I know well and enjoy spending time at. I just lay there for a while, doing some Reiki on myself, enjoying the smell of the ocean and the gentle rolling motion as the entire city rides the ocean currents. Walking around the city on a day to day basis getting things down you don't really have an opportunity to appreciate that this entire city is floating. But laying there in bed meditating, it's impossible to miss. I often notice it sitting in the commissary of the library, just enjoying a cup of tea and savoring the peace. So waking up there this morning was a welcome change of pace.

Fell back to sleep briefly, I mean how could I not, lulled as I was. And woke up back here in Ohio. Just on the early side for me. So I thought I'd do something different and get my day started. For my next trick, I think I'm going to have some lunch, around lunch time for a change!

Yes, I know, and overall boring entry with nothing major going on, but you know, sometimes these are good too. I mean if my life was constant deep thoughts and crisis I'd probably lose my mind. Again. After all, that's what did it the last time. So I hope this finds you all well and hopefully having a peace filled day yourselves.

Droid does? Oh yeah, Droid DOES!

So the media has been having a ball with Droid and what it does. Verizon has been marketing the hell out of it's new Droid phone. All the new commercials about what Droid does, the smart phone gone just over the board into magic. Ask your phone to find something and it tells you who to get there? Yeah, that's GPS. They've been around for a while. However there's a piece of high tech hardware you have to program, load with maps and data, learn to use, and then pay attention to the little screen when it beeps and tells you with text on the tiny screen to turn to make it all work. I know, I had one, and honestly it was a bunch of work to, well, make it work. In the end, it really wasn't worth all the time and effort I had to pour into it to make it work. In that regard, it wasn't a hammer.

A hammer? How the heck did we get from advanced technology to hammers?

Well I'm a simple country girl. Really, grew up in farm country, stopped eating Chicken for a goodly while when I was a child because I made the connection to my little friends vanishing and food on the table. A hammer is a simple device that does something really well. It drives nails, and in the case of a clawfoot, pulls them out. That's what it does. Simple, straight forward and

effective. Bigger nails? Get a bigger hammer. It is a very simple idea, a tool that works and doesn't need an advanced science degree. A Hammer does.

When I was growing up in the country, we had a box on the wall, that you checked first to make sure no one else in the neighborhood was using, and then you made your call. That's all it did.

Back in the early eighties, I got my first portable phone that was wireless. Big brick of a thing that fit in either a big shoulder bag, or could be mounted in your car. Pick it up, dial, if you've got coverage, the call goes through and the rates were insane. But it was a phone. The shoulder bag? Well my purse with all it's crap in it is way smaller and lighter than my first cell phone. But it worked great as a phone and that was what mattered.

So now I have this tiny little phone that is something right out of Star Trek Next Generation, and happens to be a "Droid" phone. So today I decided I'd see just how close to reality the commercial was. After all, we all know how advertisers can, shall we say, embelish things? So,

first, for those who've not yet seen it, here's a quick clip from Verizon talking about their Droid phone and how it finds things:

So my question of course was how much of this is real, and how much marketing hype? I mean I've had a GPS in the car for quite some time, but it's slightly older, and more work to use than the one in my head. Yes, I know, GPS in her head? What? Is she cybernetic with some sort of top secret scifiesq wet ware jacked into her brain? No, not so much. I just have this scary amazing sense of direction, and an intuitive grasp of things. Plus as a child, having had too much time on my hands and wanting to stay out of trouble, I studied things. Like Maps. I only wish I was kidding. So I can get to pretty much anywhere, from pretty much anywhere, and you can, as my father used to do when I was a child, blindfold me, drive me out into the middle of know where and see if I could find my way home. Anyway, I digress. I wanted to find the nearest branch of my bank to where I was, and wanted my Droid to tell me how to get there. First I should state that I do not have a Verizon Droid.

So I hit search, told it to find my bank and hit navigate. Wow. Exactly like the commercial. Turn by turn voice directions, and it even recovered very nicely when I drove right past one of the turns. This was the big issue I'd had with my Garmin GPS. Aside from the fact that every time I wanted to go somewhere I had to hook the Garmin to my computer, load in all the maps, program in the route, and then put it into the car to use it, it was much more user intensive in the field. With the Garmin I had to be watch the screen constantly to see where I was supposed to turn, and the closest to an audible indication I could get to an upcoming change was a beep, and then direction flashing on the small monochrome (and hard to read) screen. When driving a car, not the safest thing in the world to be doing. So the Garmin never really got used for driving directions and could never be used for spur of the moment, find me the closest branch of MY bank. Nope, Garmin could not do that. It didn't know where my bank branches are, that was something I'd have had to program in first. As a hammer, the Garmin failed. Don't even try to consider it a Droid, because a Droid by definition is supposed to be able to do all that for me. Especially given the commercial right?

Well I'm pleased to say as hammers go, this one is a top of the line, chrome plated, Droid! Hit the search button, told it to find my bank, gave me a list of choices closest to me, let me pick one at random, and then took me right to it with voice directions. Periodically I looked at the screen to see what it was showing, but more important was the voice that said "In 1/4 mile turn left onto Linden Blvd" and then as the turn was coming up, "Turn left onto Linden Blvd now" as I was driving along. The big test came when I decided to see just how smart my Droid was and drove right past the turn I was supposed to take. This was another point where my Garmin would get hopelessly flummoxed. I'd be off track and it would have no idea what to do since it wasn't programmed for that. My Droid on the other hand recalculated the route and calmly said "In 1/4 mile make a u turn at Obrien Ave." like nothing had ever happened. Executed the u turn and the Droid informed me I'd now be turning right onto Linden Blvd like nothing at all had happened.

As hammers go? Very, very, smart hammer. Finally a GPS that will really take me where I want to go, even if I have no idea where that is. Later in the day I told it to find my the nearest post office in Indiana. Again no fuss, muss or bother, told it what I wanted and it told me where to go and how to get there. Twice during the journey I specifically made bad turns to see how or if it would recover. As it happened, flawlessly recovered each time without my having to wait while it collected it's whits. During the drive to the post office I happened to come upon a location that my intuition told me was the location of a geocache. I'd not set out to go geocaching that day, and didn't have the detailed cache information with me. No worries, opened a browser (yes, a web browser on my Droid) bulled up the details and set about grabbing, signing, and replacing the cache near a ski resort in Southern Indiana.

Yes, a Ski resort known as Perfect North Slopes right in southern Indiana. Despite not having had any real snow here this season, the snow machines had been working overtime to lay down a nice usable base of fresh snow. Not only did my Droid serve to get me here, but took this image and cropped it down to my specifications to include in this article. Pretty spiffy.

When done sightseeing and geocaching I got back into jumper one, and switched page over to the Navigation screen, patiently waiting for me to continue on my journey. Took me right to the post office now that I was done messing around. Got my stamp, mailed my letter and was back on my way to the rest of my planed activities for the day. Does Droid search for things and then take you there? It does!!!

And she's dreaming again . . .

So last night I had a dream that has stuck with me. I was out wandering around and don't even remember what I was doing at the moment. The part however that stuck with me is I was heading up some stairs and a woman was coming down, as she got close she said "Are Lesbians allowed down here?"

I blinked, looked around and said in some surprise "Of course? Why wouldn't Lesbians be allowed?" as if the thought was (and is) crazy to me.

She said "Well I just wasn't sure if you were leaving because someone was giving you problems?"

I just don't know about a world were people have to live worried that we are somehow less than other people because we are different. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her everything was going to be fine, but I couldn't honestly say that because I have no idea what she'd run into in her life. But it still left me sad she'd even have to think that way. For her to live with any kind of fear is something I can unfortunately can relate to on a deep level. Not so much because I may or may not be a Lesbian, but because I lived so long in fear.

Come to think of it, I have no idea why she asked me. It's not like either one of us look particularly like a Lesbian whatever that might be. Maybe I just looked trustworthy and honest. Oh, right, that's why I loved in fear so long. Ah well, anyway this wasn't really about me. It was about a world where anyone has to live in any kind of fear. Regrettably, it's this one.

Busty McBabbles rides again . . .

. . . and while I saw it coming, I'm still stunned that an editor somewhere didn't set a match to this horrid excuse for a book. On "Going Rogue" Ed at Ginandtocos.com writes:

The public have merely been led to believe that she is a dangerously stupid, erratic narcissist. Going Rogue is all about setting that record straight, offering a wildly implausible excuse for every crash and bang in her train wreck of a political career.

and

Now we are faced with the daunting task of wrapping our minds around the Palin memoir Going Rogue, appearing atop a bestseller list near you. Millions of copies will be sold of a book written by someone who can't write, intended for an audience that doesn't read, about the thoughts of a person who doesn't think. God is dead.

and lastly,

Going Rogue is an irritatingly vernacular, fantastical, and cloying autobiography of a malignant narcissist, every bit as thunderingly stupid throughout as the person behind it. In what world is it either necessary or desirable to spend $9 and four hours to figure that much out about Sarah Palin?

To be honest, this is exactly what I expected. Ed has saved me the pain of reading this work of fiction to confirm what I already knew. Normally I don't judge a book by either it's cover, or it's reviews, but having suffered the mind splitting agony of Palin off a prompter a while back, I knew there aren't enough ghost writers in the 'verse to make Palin look good. She is, and has been all the fun of a monkey shit fight at the zoo, just without all the fur. The flying excrement, oh no worries, it's in there. I think I'm going to send Ed the $9 dollars he saved me as a small token of thanks for heading off the hours of protracted vomiting this book would have induced. Reading the review is the only GOOD thing to come out of the whole sorted book concept. The only thing more terrifying than this book are the tens of thousands of morons lining up at her book signings. To call them Lemmings would be an insult to Lemmings. These mindless automatons flocking in droves to her book signings are all the "fun" of Robots who've been programmed without the three laws, or worse, "Skynet" of the "Terminator" franchise. And you all thought Ronny "Raygun" Reagen was bad? Ha! Whatever you do, just say NO to Busty McBabbles and her horrific work of fiction. Save the $9 dollars for a gallon or two of gas instead, you'll need it to drive to Canada if this assault on sanity does run for President in 2012.

A taste of the past . . .

When I was young, I adored ketchup on fries, burgers, hot dogs and so much more. I even used to make ketchup sandwiches, I know, weird, but hey, I was a strange kid. And then, suddenly my romance with ketchup was over. I mourned for a while. It was Heinz, that much I remember, but I never understood why I didn't like it anymore. And after a while I didn't really care anymore, I just didn't have the same feelings from ketchup that I had. I kept it around, because I still use it on some things, but much less often than I had.

Recently I had to get more. And was faced with an isle full of different kinds of Heinz. On a whim, I noticed the reduced sugar variety and since I prefer things with less sugar, I got that. Figured it was a good plan. Plus, I don't use tomato sauce that has sugar in it, why put up with it in ketchup right?

So I imagine by now you know where I'm going with this right? The first thing I noticed when I tasted it was it tasted like me old friend from all those years ago. It's much less sweet and a bit more zesty than "standard" off the shelf Heinz, which makes it perfect! But the first thing I noticed is it tastes like Heinz used to taste, simply awesome! Which means of course that I have ketchup to put on fries again! Sugar isn't even in the ingredients. Admittedly sucralose (Splenda) is, which is fine, because it's made from sugar, but healthy unlike Aspartame.

But it's the taste that has me so happy. Because it tastes like ketchup used to taste!

My latest picture ...

It dawned on me that I didn't have any recent pictures, and the one I'd been using was lovely in terms of color, but it wasn't the best. So, the mood struck me and I thought I'd take a new one today. Mind you it was taken with a beat up old Sony that had been in the bottom of my purse for the longest time, and I did it handheld in the bathroom mirror. The only processing pre or post was to fluff my hair with my fingers and ad some Gaussian blur to the background to give it a bit more depth. Otherwise, this is me, au-natural and up close. Certainly much closer than the last one, which not coincidentally was taken with the same camera in April of 2008. So this one was taken today.

For those who are wondering if I'm double joined or have super elastic arms, it was all done with mirrors. Well one to be exact. I held the camera up, and pointed it slightly down and closer to the mirror than to me. With the tiny little lens zoomed in slightly. This way I avoided the classic "Took my own picture in the mirror look!" All just a trick of the light, and a wee bit of simple physics. Those who remember grade school science, will remember that the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection. A heartfelt thank you to all the teachers who've toughed my life over the years, and especially Mr. Wilbert in seventh grade science. He found me endlessly amusing because I had one of the first led digital watches (back in 77) that glowed red on my wrist, I knew really well how to make a railgun, but refused to cut open a frog. You want me to do what? Thanks but no.

For my friends who are photographers, please accept my apologies, so totally not my best work. I was just to lazy to haul out the big gun, tripod, lighting and do a proper job in post. So this is grainy, lossy, small, and the layer work for the background selection was pure quick freehand lazy. One day soon, I'll do this right, but for now, it's better than what I had. Oh, right, plus I'd not ex-foliated my skin, blown out my hair, plucked my brows, put on any makeup or dressed particularly well. In other words, both I, and the picture are a mess. But it's one of the best ones to date in spite of all that.

Say NO to hate!

The cause of Equality suffered a crushing blow in Maine on election day. Equality California who similarly suffered last year, has a petition going to implore President Obama to step in and I think it's an awesome idea. Please join my in signing the petition? Please spare Equality a few precious moments to send President Obama a clear indication that what has happened in Maine, California, Arizona, and 31 other states that it is unconstitutional for the "Majority" to deliberately and intentionally enshrine discrimination against a small, but growing majority in to our legal system.

We need to make it clear that narrow minded bigotry and hate is NOT a family value we wish to hand down to our children. We need to take steps to reign in the terror of foolishness that the religious institutions are spreading. We need to fight the lies with the beauty of truth! We need to spread love, acceptance and understanding through out the land, loving our neighbors. What would Buddha say? What would Jesus say or do? They would stand together, as equals with all their brothers, sisters and children of a loving God to say NO TO HATE! We can do no less! Please take a moment and sign with me? Thank you.