Litany of Excuses

I'm feeling rather disheartened today... it's been a busy week with more work than usual, which I am grateful for. But it also means that I have neglected the exercise I am trying to add to my schedule. And that makes me feel guilty and a certain degree of failure.

See, I know if I WANTED to exercise, I would find the time - ballroom dance is a perfect example; I would dance 8+ hours a day, gladly. But when exercise is the absolute last thing you want to do, then it is easy to find excuses and blame other factors. I could get up and run at 6 am... but I hate early-morning exercise the most; it combines two bad things instead of just one. OK, so then go at night; I do well with evening exercise! But at night it is dark, and my complex is poorly lit, and it makes me nervous.

And so it goes. I need to play with my cats so they don't get bored and attack each other. I haven't drunk enough water today. That burrito is doing a number on my digestion. I need to finish crocheting this present for my friend. I deserve a rest. I need to watch DWTS before I find out the results somewhere else. My right hip is hurting. My left hip is hurting. My right knee is acting weird. My arches are killing me.

And then there's the "why do I have to do as much as my trainer wants? why can't I just do 3 days instead of 5? Why do I have to do 3 miles, why can't I just do 2?" It's ugly and I'm ashamed and yet I don't know how to not give up so easily and give in so quickly. I'm over 40, and I now realize the consequences of taking the easy path my whole life. I lack discipline for any activity or study I don't like or don't do well. I don't know how to respond to the natural stress and strain of exercise, as opposed to legitimate pain; I am inclined to quit both.

Even this post is a way to avoid reading the chapter for my women's group in the morning.

I wish there was some kind of therapy system whereby I could unlearn these lazy habits of mine, and learn some persistence and self-discipline. I lack the willpower to do it on my own. I will say this - when I was unemployed and had loads of time, I had no problem adding workouts to my schedule! But when my day and night are full of work and appointments, exercise is the last thing I want to do.

Rabbit-Trailers

As I get older and more aware of the world around me (really; I look back on my 20s and I feel like I was completely oblivious!) I have started detecting patterns of behavior that drive me crazy. I'm sure they are different for everyone. But there is one tendency I see in aging people that I think we can all agree is unpleasant to everyone.

I speak of Rabbit-Trailing in Storytelling. You may have a different term for it, but the basic structure is this: a speaker is sharing a story or anecdote. From the beginning, they tack on details and information unnecessary for the story to be comprehended, but that in fact are extremely boring and often completely derail the primary point of the narration.

Example
Primary point of tale: I go to visit my grandmother, and my car breaks down on the way back.

So I was going to visit my Grandmother in Batesville, and of course I had to pass through Memphis on my way; my cousin Rachel lives on the south side of the city in the suburb called... dang, what is that area called? I can never remember, it's Williamsburg or Williamsport or Williamson or something like that, I can never remember when I am telling someone about that part of Memphis, but anyway I stopped to see Rachel on my way; she's not been feeling well since she had a kidney taken out and has been unable to go back to work, and we had a nice lunch at a restaurant in the downtown area near the river, a seafood place called Martindale's or something like that, I had the most amazing grilled salmon there with a pesto glaze that I really want to try and recreate for myself at home; I talked to the NICEST server who was able to tell me some of the ingredients and would you believe it, one of them is lemon pepper? I have never thought to add that to a pesto! Anyway, I had the nicest visit with Rachel and we just talked and talked for hours until I realized that I needed to get back on the road if I was going to make it to Batesville before it got dark, because whenever I drive in the dark Grandmother and Mom both get so anxious and keep calling me and asking me where I am, you would think I was still a college student, with how little opinion they have of my navigation skills! So I'm on the road and as I pass through this tiny town called Wynne, I spot on the left side of the street a little car repair shop that I have never noticed before, but it looks so incredibly bedraggled and positively TRASHED that it looks over 50 years old, and I remember thinking to myself, Boy I hope I never have to go to that shop, I might never come back out of it, it looks so creepy! But I finally make it to Batesville and have a really good visit with my Grandmother, and we drive her car the entire time I'm there because it is just SO much easier for her to get in and out of it, because the seats are higher and so she doesn't have to bend her knees and swivel as much to get in, and I tell you, I don't know how she manages on her own because it really seems very uncomfortable for her to get in and out of her car, it's one of those old Mercury Marquis sedans the size of a BOAT, but it's in really nice shape because she drives it so little and...*

You get my point.

I think this is the sort of habit that everyone can agree is extremely annoying; but I also think it is the sort of habit that can be curbed, if we can only find a way to make the speaker aware of what they are doing. A great deal of tedium can be avoided and society will be the better for it. I think it is more prevalent in the aged (and I suspect) women, which means a certain amount of politeness and consideration must be employed so that they don't become offended. Because really, we have all encountered Rabbit-Trailers in our lives, and I suspect most of us have thought to ourselves, "I will NEVER get to be like that!" so it stands to reason that if we realize we are doing it, we will try hard to stop.

So spread this post among your friends and family. It doesn't need to be specifically to the ones who are doing it; but it needs to be posted on FB and various social media so that hopefully, the Rabbit-Trailers will stumble across it and make the connection to themselves.

Steps to Reverse Rabbit-Trailing

1. Be aware that you are a Rabbit-Trailer.
2. Tell your friends about your problem.
3. Give them permission to stop you when you start Rabbit-Trailing.

If we can spread the word about this pernicious disease, we will all be a great deal happier with our friends, and the aged will be far less likely to be avoided out of boredom or annoyance.

*story not based on real events; invented to make a point.

Rules for Guests at Seminole Lodge

During my recent trip to Ft. Lauderdale, we went to Edison's Summer Home - great tour and property! Anyway, my sister Amy and I were much taken by the "Rules for Guests" they had posted, written by Edison's daughter, Madeleine.

Rules for Guests at Seminole Lodge

• Don't cabbage unto yourself all the fish poles. This has been done by guests thereby incurring the grave disapproval of the entire family.
• Don't kill the black snakes under the porch. They are there for a purpose.
• If you don't think Seminole Lodge is the loveliest spot you ever wore your rubbers in - don't let on to Father.
• Don't fail to return to your room during part of each day - so that the family may squabble without embarrassment.
• Don't stop Madeleine if you see her start violently anywhere alone. She's only trying to work out her disposition.
• Don't capsize in the sailboat if you can help it. Remember there isn't any man to rescue you in 750 miles. And besides there are the sharks.
• Don't ask us anything about Palm Beach. We don't want to know.

Feeling Bitter, How About You?

I don't want to be married. Not now, anyway. But the inconveniences of spinsterhood are becoming more noticeable as I get older. I think my primary reasons at present for possibly acquiring a husband are 1) having someone to vacation and dine with, 2) having someone else bring the heavy stuff up from the car for a change, and 3) not having to be one of the handful of women in my church and social circle who have no anniversaries or birth announcements to make on Facebook.

Tired, tired, tired of it all, I say! I'm getting more and more cranky with every wedding program that I make at my church; the 20-somethings getting married with so much optimism and joy, and knowing that by the time they are my age they will be almost done with producing and raising their children and preparing to send them to college... and I will not even have begun the process at all!

What's even worse is doing the wedding programs for kids that I USED TO BABYSIT. Just mortifying. Can you imagine?!

Sorry, it's a 5% kind of week. I have accompanied my sister and her family to the beach, and am awkward in the energy and flow of a family with several kids. I have little patience, and have patently become the kind of spinster aunt I never thought possible - I scold the kids for ordinary bickering, and make them make their beds (or do it myself when they don't move fast enough for my liking!), and wipe up the smallest of messes because it sets my teeth on edge to see bits of food scattered on a table, just waiting to be smeared on a careless sleeve.

I guess I should be looking forward to the day when I am old enough that people stop asking me if I am married or have kids; they'll just assume it because I look Mom-ish and move on to more interesting topics. When the steadily burning and shortening fuse to the menopause bomb has finally exploded, and I don't have the tantalizing possibility of pregnancy and children hanging over me. The loss of expectations will make life easier.

I do not hope for what I cannot have!
I do not cling to things I cannot keep!
The more you cling to things, the more you love them,
The more the pain you suffer when they're taken from you...

Ah, but if you have no expectations,
You can never have a disappointment.

Stephen Sondheim, Passion, "I Read"
source: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/soundtracks/p/passionlyrics/ireadlyrics.html

Easy to get a trifle weepy over it all... but if I draw back and look at the life I lead; the satisfaction in my work, the freedom to come and go as I please... I don't miss marriage and children at all. And it would be stupid and unfair to expect people to be silent about their spouses and children just to spare me! 95% of the time I am happy as I am. This is no small thing! I do prize my independence, Married Folk; I assure you that I am enjoying it enough for BOTH of us. ;)

Why I'm Not Looking for My Lost Cat Anymore

Last week (Wednesday) my cat Daisy fell off the balcony of my 2nd floor condo, and ran away. I immediately started looking for her, but to no avail. Friends came and helped me search, by day and by night... I put out signs all over my complex as well as the one next door... I put out her carrier with my nightgown in it under my balcony with some food and water... I opened the screen door so Bunny could meow for her sister... I listed her as Lost with her picture on nashvillepetfinders.com...

It's been over a week now, and although I've had a couple of calls from the complex next door from people who saw her, and gone over and looked around for a few hours, I still can't find Daisy. It's like saying, "I know exactly where she is... she's somewhere in Metro Nashville!" It feels impossible to search out every nook and cranny where she may be hiding.

That first 24 hours was the worst. The temperature plummeted below freezing for the first time in weeks at night, and I was haunted by the idea of her being scared or hungry. She had never set foot outside, and has no survival skills although I knew she could hunt and she has her claws. I cried a lot that first day. Everyone has been so kind and concerned for me, and I am very grateful for the friends on Facebook who responded with suggestions and help.

But I'm not actively looking for her anymore. I have several reasons:

1. I have always felt guilty for keeping my cats exclusively indoors. Yes, it's safer and they'll live longer and not bring in bugs and disease etc., etc... but it feels like I'm imprisoning them. I've always planned that when I get my own house with a yard, that I want my cats to be indoor/outdoor kitties if they like. My complex is not a good place for that, especially with so many dogs! I want them to be able to hunt and be real cats, not some animal restricted to what is convenient for me.
2. Every time Daisy is spotted, she is further away from my condo. This means she's traveling away. To me this feels like she is on a walkabout vacation, and is in no hurry to return.
3. Bunny is a different cat now! I had not realized how much Daisy had monopolized my time. I just thought that Daisy liked cuddling more, and Bunny was more independent. But ever since Daisy has gone, Bunny has "talked" non-stop... she is more of a growly cat than a meower, and she is utterly delightful - she's cuddly and affectionate and playful. I get the feeling that Daisy has been bullying Bunny all this time; if Bunny is in my lap, Daisy would sometimes hop up on the arm of the chair, meow a bit, and Bunny will immediately hop down whereupon Daisy will get into my lap! Daisy has always been something of a skittish coward; well, apparently she's a bully too. I don't want her to return, only to resume treating Bunny as second-class! They never did get on particularly well together; they had a polite but disinterested relationship, it always seemed to me. They would take turns when it was String Playtime, they occasionally fought, but they never cuddled together, which seemed very sad to me.
4. Daisy suffers from Feline Urological Syndrome. This means that crystals tend to form in her bladder, cutting into the lining and giving her bloody urine and scar tissue, making urination difficult. She has been on a prescription diet to treat this for over a year now after drugs failed to fix it, but truth be told, she still has bloody urine even though she seems to be in no discomfort and her litterbox behavior seems normal. I have begun to wonder what her future would be... would the slow deterioration continue and in a year or so I would have to take her to the vet to be put down? This is not something I would want for her. If her days are numbered, then I am much happier for her to be out in nature, and not terrified on a cold metal table at the vet's.

I've been saying for a while that all I had to do to get Daisy to return was to replace her - if I get a kitten to keep Bunny company, I bet you anything Daisy will be at my door within a week. So in June after my vacation I will start looking for a little male kitten for Bunny to (hopefully!) love. I think I'd like a ginger.

It may seem that I am unnaturally calm and dispassionate about this... perhaps I am. I worry that it means I'm not very affectionate! That first day as I wandered around the treeline for the Nth time, calling for her, and continually wiping away the tears, the idea that she might not return was a nightmare. But I'm accustomed to being left behind; I have had many, many friends leave Nashville over the years, and although I used to get really upset about it, I had to find a way to live with abandonment on a regular basis. I don't feel like Daisy has abandoned me, precisely, but my hard-won pragmatism has kicked in and I've found a way to think of her and her future apart from me. I think I've mentally invented a different future for her that is happier and more like she was created to live. I don't want to think of her being unhappy and starving, and although I know she will have a learning curve, I am hopeful that she will adapt, or at least, find a new family who will love her well.

Christ's Ambassadors

I want to make it clear that I am NOT one of those people who quotes scripture as a matter of course, and that in general I am bored senseless by blog posts that discuss passages as in a sermon.

But I heard this one last night at Ash Wednesday services, and it completely sums up the way I have been feeling about the failure of the monolith of modern American Christianity to do practically any of these things... we are called to be so much more than what we are at present, and we are instead being a stumbling block; judging everyone else, lacking compassion, more concerned with protecting our religious and political rights than being a blessing and loving others who need our help...

2 Corinthians 5:20, 6:3-10 (NIV)

We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us.

We put no stumbling block in anyone’s path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

I know there are exceptions; there always are. Plenty of missions are doing just what we've been called to do; like Magdalene House/Thistle Farms, or Room in the Inn - but these are the exception, not the rule. It may be that we must lose everything before we can become what we were intended.

To brighten your day... Thanks, Matt!

In Which I Become a Mean Old Lady

I bullied some young men tonight.

Verona Dining Collection in Antique Honey

I was shopping at one of my favorite stores, World Market in West Nashville... looking at absolutely everything in the store, most of which I can't afford (oh I WANT that dining room set!) Soon after I entered, I heard some horrible screeching that eventually coalesced into some sort of rough accordion. It was soon joined by another indecipherable instrument, and it Kept. On. Going. World Market tries to carry everything, apparently, including decorative rustic musical instruments.

Fifteen minutes of this went on. It was evident that the players were attempting to actually coax some kind of melody from the instruments, and they occasionally succeeded, but rarely in key or tune with each other. I caught a glimpse of them and saw they were some college-aged guys. I began to formulate crushing, cruel put-downs to make them stop... "Could you guys go be douches somewhere else?" was my favorite.

Surely they would stop. But they didn't, and finally when I was crossing an aisle-way I saw them standing in a group about to add a third instrument to the mix. I stood and glared at them, and one glanced up and saw me, and I called out, "Could you guys go be annoying somewhere else? I mean, you have been playing FOREVER!" The sudden feeling of Old Lady Power rushed through me, as I realized I. Did. Not. Care. What. They. Thought. It was intoxicating.

As I walked on, after a brief pause one of them called out, "but, uh, we're musicians, ma'am!" I snapped back, "Well, you need to practice more, but not here!" Another lady an aisle over caught my eye and nodded with satisfaction, and I smiled and shook my head.

But as I wandered on looking with elaborate unconcern at chair slipcovers and china I didn't need, I started considering what had happened. The boys had looked ABASHED. They had looked genuinely surprised. And they were obviously enthusiastic about trying to make these things play music. They were just overgrown boys. And I began to feel sorry. Elliott would have TOTALLY done the same thing. To an instrumentalist, an instrument MUST be attempted!

I began to worry that they would go back to school and tell the story of a fat old bitch in the store who had yelled at them and been insulting, and it would become an anecdote for years to come. I would never be identified, but my spirit would be scorned and vilified for years to come. I would apologize; I would go up and be contrite and say I understood their enthusiasm, that my nephew would have been trying the same thing, and that I was being mean.

But it was too late. They were gone, and I had been bitchy for my own satisfaction and the pleasure of a well-placed zinger. So to the three young men in World Market in West Nashville on a Friday night, I am sorry. You saw me take the next step in my Crazy Cat Lady/Spinster Aunt/Old Maid aging process, and it was into the Mean Old Lady stage. I would have preferred it be the Sassy Old Lady, or the Sharp as Nails Old Lady, but unfortunately I took the Cranky exit. You meant well, and you weren't actually being douchey.

And to the little boy bashing around two cheaply made fans that I said rebukingly to that he "could actually BREAK those things by waving them so hard!" I hope you will... no, actually, that kid was being a little brat. I WANT him to think twice before he messes with things that aren't toys in a home interior store.

From our Crazed Family to Yours...

Merry Christmas, and fervent prayers for a
Sane and Happy New Year!

It's been a good year, really!  I've been happy this first full year in my condo, with a very, very slow decorating approach – I just hung most of my pictures 18 months after moving in! I think the kitties have been reasonably content; as long as I will not attempt to pick them up & squeeze them (corporal cuddling), yet will make my lap available when they want some cuddle time, they appear satisfied with the arrangement. Daisy has become a big chunky fuzzball, while Bunny is a sleek little girl. They both are good cuddlers. Bunny has an obsession with dunking stuff in their water bowl that utterly mystifies me, though. I come home and find wads of yarn (the preferred plaything at present) in the bowl and water everywhere; I put all the loose yarn in the back room, and in less than an hour, it’s been dragged back to the bowl. The little freak!

The Young Adult historical fiction books by Gladys Malvern that I have been editing to reprint are all done.  We managed to get 12 of her public domain titles back into print, and I think the books are beautiful! Sales are tepid but steady, and we hope the homeschool community will discover them soon. They are available at all the big online book retailers...

Work ebbs and flows, as always… It's been six years now since I started House Calls, and started at the AEA/Vandy. I still love working at both places. The variety of both jobs and switching back and forth keeps me from getting burned out. I had my first (minor) surgery on my right tear duct this summer, but apparently I was one of the 5% whose heals up wrongly, and so I am going back in to have it redone 2 days after Christmas. *sigh* I’m still singing with the Parish Choir and Chamber Singers at St. Bartholomew’s in Nashville, and still love it.

Hoping you and yours are well! God bless and keep you!

How Steve Jobs Made Me a Computer Geek

Well, HE didn't actually make me a geek... but his old beige toaster Macintosh did.

In 1987, I was a dyed-in-the-wool Luddite; a history/literature/musician/actress ARTISTE. I had managed to avoid computers all through high school (they were still in the punch-card phase and I saw absolutely no reason to bother with something so obviously dull). I was as right-brained as they come, and proud to be so.

Then I went to college at Belmont. Within my first month there, I realized that I was going to have to start typing papers, and I think my friend Suzy Life offered to show me where the computer lab was on campus. I have no memory of my first visit there, but I remember how the computers looked; so cozy, so simple and I approached them without any fear whatsoever. There were only 3 or 4 available for student use at that time.

This is the model they had - the operating system booted from a small 800K floppy. There was no hard drive yet! But I remember someone showing me the font choices they had like Times, Chicago and Venice, and I was all "ooh, pretty!" I started using it to write letters to pen pals and friends, and by the time I really did start using it to do papers, I was fairly comfortable with a Mac.

Of course, I was still under the illusion I was an artiste! I got my History degree with a minor in English. But as the years progressed I continued working with Macs, and by my senior year I was working as a lab monitor in the large, 20+ computer Mac lab across the hall from my mentor's office, the Dean of Humanities, Robert Simmons. He adored Macs, and typed up detailed critiques on student papers and essays, which he would print out on a noisy dot-matrix printer. It was he who decided the School of Humanities needed its own computer lab, and he established special freshman writing classes that were taught in the lab, so the students could get comfortable using computers for composition. He'd even let students in his classes go downstairs during a test to type their essays in the lab! I miss him terribly - he died a few years after I graduated.

I still didn't know that I liked computers. My use of them had been so organic, so thoughtless, that I had no notion that I had any particular affinity or skill. I've always said that things need to sneak up on me; I am so alert to potential scenarios that I can become crippled by expectations and behave quite stupidly. Well, computers snuck up on me! Almost every job I had from that point on, in various secretarial and office admin positions, had a Macintosh on hand, and I used all of them.

By the time I was working on my 2nd undergrad degree in Theater, I had gotten a student job working in sales for the campus "Computer Connection" store. They also took care of departmental support for the college; fixing, installing, and maintaining computers all over campus. But they were so short of tech guys, and the demand for user support was so great that one day I said "well, I could probably install RAM at least; why not show me how to do it?" I had never even looked inside a computer before. (My favorite anecdote is that memory was so vastly expensive at this time, that it was selling for $350 for an 8MB chip!)

The next thing I knew (really, I don't remember any learning curve) I was doing both jobs - support and sales. I was delivering computers (how I loved our delivery golf cart!) around campus and installing them, installing memory, making service calls, even giving tutorials to staff on software programs. Less than a year after I started at the Computer Connection, I was hired to work at the William Morris Agency, which was one of the rare businesses that primarily used Macs and they needed a Mac person. I'm still astonished that they hired me; I had no qualifications or education in computers!

But the Mac had taught me how to use itself, even in the days before the internet became really useful. Steve Jobs, Woz, and Apple Computer made a computer that I didn't need a college education in Computer Science to use and support. Since my years at WMA, I've moved on to Windows and PCs and that is what I primarily support now. But my affection and nostalgia for the Mac platform, for the beauty and ease and simplicity of the products made by Apple (with some notable exceptions, of course!) will always be with me, and I will always be grateful to the people who made a machine that took me out of my right brain, and eased me into using my left as well.

A Moment of Insight

OK, I've figured out what this presidential campaign season is actually all about... it's about New Toys.

We have this set of 8 or so action figures, and some of them are the cool ones that we like from the movies like Han Solo or Princess Leia... but others are characters we don't really remember from the movies like General Taggi* or Chall Bekan*. Those would be the Jon Huntsmans and the Gary Johnsons. We tend to leave them in the box.

But you know, we've been playing with our Michelle Bachman and Mitt Romney for a while, and they're getting a little boring... what this make-believe needs is some new action figures! Can we have a Rick Perry? Pleeeeeeese? I don't wanna play with Newt; his head keeps falling off! So Mom gets us a Rick Perry but after a week or so the novelty's worn off him and we'd really like a Chris Christie or a Sarah Palin to make the game fun again (although we had a Sarah Palin a while back until our dog chewed it up so it wasn't any good and mom threw it away).

We're treating these men and women like toys for our entertainment. We delight in every misspoken sentence, every ill-thought idea, and let the media mock and shred them for our entertainment. Is it any wonder Palin and Christie are reluctant to announce candidacy? How can any of them have anything approaching a substantive conversation about their stand on the issues, when they're continually required to be defending every word that comes out of their mouth, or attacking the last stupid thing another candidate said? It really is a blood sport.

You know, now that I think about it, it's more like a cat who's caught a mouse or a baby rabbit, and batted it around and gnawed on it until it lies motionless and dead... it's not fun anymore. So the cat goes hunting for another critter.

*I had to look these names up on IMDb; I'm a geek, but a diversified geek!

Lynching in Georgia

Troy Davis, a man convicted of murder in Georgia, is going to be executed tonight at 7pm. In the years since his initial conviction and sentence, the original case against him has fallen apart; multiple witnesses have recanted their testimony, one of the witnesses CONFESSED to the crime, etc. Any of this is sufficient to give an appeal legs... but four appeals have gone through and he is still slated for execution. WHY?

After lamenting the injustices of Nicaraguan "law"in regards to the wrongful arrests and convictions of my friend Eric Volz and now Jason Puracal, at least in their cases, I didn't have to worry that the state would have them put to death! Now a man is going to be killed under a dubious conviction in the democratic and supposedly "better" United States of America. I have always said that I would prefer for the guilty to go free than for the innocent to be locked up, which is why I wasn't too fussed about the Casey Anthony case.

Can you imagine how heavy the guilt of executing a potentially innocent man will lie on the heads of those who could have undone this injustice, and have not? Do they not think at all of the Golden Rule - treat others as you want to be treated? I don't know if this case is a result of discrimination, of laziness, of just plain bloody-mindedness... but it makes me feel about as safe with the American Justice System as a woman in 1690s Salem who has a lot of enemies in town!

God forgive those who are responsible for his incarceration and execution, and those who could undo it and yet have chosen not to err on the side of mercy.

So Sick, So Tired

Once again, Nicaraguan Injustice has prevailed.

I did so hope... although I don't know why I should have! The way they treated Eric Volz should have been lesson enough that reason, fairness, justice are absent from the Nicaraguan legal system. Now Jason Puracal, who has already spent almost 300 days in jail on no evidence, has been convicted of international drug trafficking, money laundering, and organized crime. This is despite the total lack of evidence, and with an illegal judge presiding.

Americans, leave Nicaragua. You've had 2 warnings now; the sweetness and light you think you are living in is all a facade. At any moment, you can be arrested, imprisoned and tortured on the flimsiest of pretexts. Hell, on no pretext at all! Maybe if you immediately bribe the officers who are arresting you... maybe then you will be able to escape with your life and your freedom. But trusting to the laws of that country (which may be just fine on paper) and your own innocence has been proven to be stupid and naive.

We think that because we have a reasonably fair legal system in the US that all legal systems are equally fair. THEY ARE NOT.

• Shane, Josh and Sarah arrested in Iran for the mistake of hiking near the border; Shane and Josh convicted and condemned to 8 years in prison.
• Amanda Knox, arrested and convicted of a murder she could not possibly have committed; 30 years in Italian prison
• Eric Volz, arrested and convicted of murder in Nicaragua despite airtight alibi and complete lack of forensic evidence. 30 years in prison, miraculously overturned on appeal.

Now add Jason Puracal to the list. These are just the ones I know about and have been following; God only knows how many cases like this exist that haven't got strong social media on their side.

I don't want to have to fight through another one of these cases, because they won't fight fair. Reason and logic serve no purpose. Justice is a word they shit upon.

I'm holding on to this; a friend happened to post this (I don't know why) just as I heard the news about Jason:

13 I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
That I would see the goodness of the LORD
In the land of the living.

14 Wait on the LORD;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the LORD!

Psalm 27 (28)

freejasonp.com
freethehikers.org
injusticeinperugia.org

AVALANCHE Week to Free Jason Puracal!

Trial is scheduled to resume with Day Three this Tuesday, August 16. From the Court's rulings during the first two days of trial, it is clear the Judge is pushing for a conviction. He has crippled the defense case by throwing out the very evidence that proves Jason’s innocence, including a real estate expert, Jason’s accountant, and the letter from the DEA. The Judge has also prevented the defense from questioning the prosecution’s witnesses on key issues. It is time to make the State Department see the injustice in this case. They must step in and demand Jason’s release.

CALL to ACTION: This week is AVALANCHE Week. Senator Cantwell is the person that can force the State Department into action. We want to bombard her office with phone calls (not just letters and emails) to insist that she force the State Department to demand Jason’s release. Please everyone commit to making one phone call each day this week to Senator Cantwell’s office to let her know that we want action. The goal is for Senator Cantwell to receive at least one phone call about Jason every minute of every day this week.

Senator Maria Cantwell
202-224-3441 (Washington D.C. office)
206-220-6400 (Seattle Office)

In Which I Have Surgery

I am having a DCR procedure Friday morning - DCR stands for Dacryocystorhinostomy. They are basically creating a new tear drain for my right eye, which has had a lump around the tear duct since January. Apparently my tear ducts are much smaller than they should be (at least in my right eye) and nastiness has been building up from a blockage in that area. Plus my tears cannot drain down into my sinuses like they should, so I look like I'm perpetually crying and wiping away tears. I haven't been able to wear eye makeup in months!

So I'll be having an outpatient procedure under a general anesthetic (first time in my life!) around 8:30 am, and will hopefully be home by noon. My friend Rachel is staying with me for a while, and so she's going to take me and bring me home and make sure I don't collapse or starve or whatever; at least until I've fully recovered.

Unfortunately, on Tuesday my right eye started really swelling up, and now 3 days later my vision is partially impaired, and my eyelid is puffed out over the top. The whole area is very tender and I suspect, infected. My Dr. has me on antibiotics to try and get it back to normal in time for the surgery, but I am dubious that less than 2 days of meds is sufficient to turn it around. So it might have to be postponed.

So I would welcome prayers; that the swelling and infection would go down, and that I would be calm and relaxed throughout the process... and that I don't freak out when they come to give me the IV (I'm a needle-phobic)!

Why Casey Anthony Didn't Win

As angry as everyone following the Casey Anthony case may be, I actually think the Not Guilty verdict may be far worse for her than she or her family have imagined.

Look at it this way. If she had been judged Guilty, she would go to jail. I don't think she'd get the death penalty; she's young and obviously weak. Everyone would feel vindicated and jubilant, and in 20+ years when she was paroled, the worst of the anger and desire for vengeance would have subsided and there would be little interest. She could live quietly, and at least she would be regarded as having paid her debt to society.

But as a person perceived as guilty by the majority of society (I've not heard of anyone who believes she is innocent) who "got off scot-free", she will be rejected and shunned by society. I doubt anyone would ever hire her for a job again. The fact that even her parents have had death threats is an indicator of how strongly people hate her right now. No one will ever allow her around their children, I would be very surprised if she ever has another date in her life, and I can just imagine her showing up at one of the nightclubs she used to go to... the appalled hush that would fall over the room, the turned backs. And that's just the mild response... there are always people who take vigilante justice too far, and her life will doubtless be threatened for a while to come.

I'm not exactly surprised at the jury's decision. Although everything "gestures" to her, the actual, tangible evidence that proves she killed her baby just isn't there. And I am actually comforted that our legal system would rather err on the side of letting the guilty go free, rather than send the innocent to jail. That's one of the wonders of our legal system, and I am grateful that we can have a questionable Innocent verdict, as opposed to one based on popular opinion. When the Lindbergh baby was kidnapped, they executed a man who very possibly was innocent. This judgment 75 years later, with a similarly tragic case, I find encouraging and an indication of maturity.

Five years ago, I might not have thought this. I was inclined to believe that where there's smoke, there's fire, and that anyone who was in jail was genuinely guilty. But then I learned of Eric Volz, and the sham arrest, trial and conviction he suffered in Nicaragua for murder, and I realized that mistakes are made, and popular opinion allowed to influence trials. Eric was so patently innocent - and all evidence and witnesses to that innocence was discarded and ignored so that evil people could get revenge on America... or protect the real murderer... or score political points. Anything but justice was the goal.

So I don't mind so much that Casey Anthony is going to go free. Because I would rather the guilty go free than the innocent be imprisoned, and I believe that society will probably be far crueler to her than any prison cell could be.

I know, I know, these 2 opinions do not match up!

Handiwork

A friend was writing about creative and artistic endeavors, which made me think of this journal entry I a wrote a while back, so I thought I'd post it here!

June 14, 2005
I am currently engaged in a wholly engrossing activity of truly nerdish/geeky proportions; I have become a chronic embroiderer. My favorite activity most nights is to come home and watch Simpsons episodes while I do needlework. I am keenly aware that this is the most appallingly boring activity most hip young thirty-somethings could ever imagine. But there are several compelling reasons why I feel the need to sew.

[BTW, did you know that the word "suzan" in Farsi means "needle"? See?!]

• One, because it keeps me from being an irredeemable couch potato. As long as I am Productive, I don't feel like my evenings in front of the TV are a complete waste.
  
• Two, because it keeps me from eating from boredom - it is impossible to eat and sew simultaneously.
  
• Three, because it impresses the hell out of almost everyone. A well-executed sampler or project as a gift will pretty much make every other gift look tawdry, cheap, and ill-considered. "See? I love you more than everyone else!"
  
• Four, because it is beautiful.
  
• Five, because it is real.

Four and Five deserve some elaboration... some "embroidery," if you will. All day long at my IT job I manipulate bits of nothingness - I produce NOTHING except documents that more often than not never even get printed - ghosts of words that are read by someone in an email and then deleted, never to be made tangible. Needlework is the one inescapably real thing I do outside the office that actually displays talent and skill beyond my ability to hook up a user laptop on a DSL wireless network and connect via VPN to the office network, or add a show venue address to an enormous database.

It used to be that most of the things produced with needle and thread were useful in some way - you made clothing or upholstery or bed linens yourself. But now there's no need - it can be done more cheaply and quickly by machines in factories, or by women at home on sewing machines. Almost the only hand-sewing done now is for art's sake - quilts, cross-stitch, needlepoint. And when you use real linen, and cotton or sometimes silk thread, there is a tangible, beautiful product completed after many hours. It takes focus and it takes patience. Except for little projects, most needlework projects take weeks or months.

It's sometimes my only grasp on what is real, what matters, what is meaningful - with a TiVo, iPod, and Blackberry, I can literally spend HOURS on intangibles that have little value or benefit (unless it be to inspire or educate... but for me, usually it's just for entertainment). I come home after herding invisible bits and bytes around an unseen network all day, and I pick up a piece of fine linen with threads of scarlet and purple, and I am making something far more enduring than the report on client earnings I generated that morning, or the software installed that afternoon.

And of course, like I said - it impresses the hell out of everyone.

The Relief of Abandonment

I am very, very accustomed to being left behind.


It took quite a while to realize that abandonment, often perfectly benign, was an integral part of my life. A general list:

• My dad (Al) died of leukemia when I was 3
• My best friend in kindergarten (Missy) moved away the following summer
• My best friend in first grade (Betsy) moved away the following summer

At this point things stabilized... but I never had another best friend. I don't THINK it was a conscious decision; there just wasn't anyone I clicked with in the years that followed. I went through grade school and high school with many of the same classmates, but none really close.

• My adoptive stepdad (Chuck) left when I was 17

This I didn't mind at the time; none of us were happy, and he was too strict and broken himself to really be able to show us any affection. But it did mess up the family dynamic; I felt that our stability had left with him.

College was where I actually started to make some good friends; none of them were "besties" but they were consistent and I saw them daily for several years... but as the only one of us actually from Nashville, when school was over, I stayed there... and they all left, to return home or continue their education elsewhere.

I made new friends at my first real job, then went back to school to get a 2nd degree and made some ALMOST best friends with 3 other women. We called ourselves the Honda Club, and they were the closest I've ever had to something approximating best friends. But within a few years, they all left as well, to different cities.

I got a long-term job working with computers at a talent agency, and started making friends there. There were 5 of us who got together frequently for dinner and movies, and we called ourselves Movie Club. But one by one, they left town (except for one of the women, thank God!)

I feel like I have formed and lost and reformed and lost so many friendships in my life that I'm honestly perturbed when someone actually STAYS. So many times I have been told by a friend that they are leaving town, and I go to the farewell party or give them a parting gift or help them pack... but on a certain mental level, after the sad, weary acceptance of another loss, I'm relieved. I don't know why; in some twisted, broken way... it is what has always happened, and so I don't know how to build a friendship beyond a certain level of development. And now, with their departure, I won't have to deal with the harder, more work-intensive aspects of the natural growth of a friendship.

Now that I'm much older and stable in my society, people from my peer group are proving more likely to stay. And I am beginning to realize that there are aspects to my friends that can annoy and disappoint me, (just as I can definitely annoy and disappoint them!) But never having had to work through this more advanced friendship stage before, I don't quite know how. I'm glad that I am older and wiser enough to be conscious that nobody's perfect, and that this is actually what is SUPPOSED to happen... but I'm afraid of messing up.

And don't even get me started on my incapacity for romantic relationships - at the developmental rate I'm going, I should be ready for dating and marriage around... 70. ;)

Reboot Christmas

I'm writing this now, a few days after Christmas, so that I can hopefully keep it in mind enough to help me avoid another Christmas like this one in 2011.

Not to blame my family or friends, but once again, Christmas was disappointing... I am grateful that I didn't suffer the crushing depression I so often felt in December in my 20s, but any attempts to make Christmas worthwhile or meaningful just failed miserably. It can't be done. It is one long round of unmet longings, of excess and expense that makes no-one but children happy.

I know it's a different set of disappointments for everyone, but in my case, it's a month of frantic activity and checklists that culminate in... nothing. It's isolating, a stripping away of the work routine that keeps me plugged in to society and content, and having stripped away that schedule and left me with nothing useful to do, leaves me bereft and dependent on the hospitality of family members who never built up any traditions to give us some structure for the holiday.

Having just written that paragraph, an epiphany has just occurred to me: why don't I hold the Christmas gathering next year? I've always assumed as the Single of the family that my role was to arrive at a larger house with a supplementary side dish, a dessert, and gifts. But what if I were to host the thing, to direct the course of the day instead of hoping for someone else to arrange something enjoyable for all?

I say this with anarchy in mind... because the best, most memorable holidays I have had are the ones that resemble a sitcom plot for a Christmas episode. Primary example:

For decades our family has gone every Christmas to our relatives in Batesville, AR, because it was the habit of our childhood. We would sometimes escape the slight claustrophobia of my Grandmother's house (where nothing much was done beyond meals, TV, naps and conversations) by going on an errand to the Super Wal-Mart. One year my mom, sisters and I all went together, and in an uncharacteristic move, bought some sodas and sat in the little corner food court after our shopping. We ended up sitting there and talking for over an hour. We realized that we didn't really want to leave and go back to the house... that we didn't really enjoy these Christmases in AR because we never did anything fun... and that we all felt the same way. It ended up being a long group therapy session, and even now over a decade later, we will still talk fondly about that time in the food court at Wal-Mart.

It wasn't that we didn't love and enjoy my Grandmother, and that we didn't like seeing my cousins (who were always the big drawing point for us)... it was the very separation from that tradition that was memorable and a turning point for us as a family. This was before my sisters had kids, and we hadn't yet realized that it could be enjoyable sitting around and talking, just the women of our family.

I guess the conclusion I'm arriving at here, is that as much as we need the traditions of the holiday for structure, we also need to scrap them on occasion. Baking cookies every Christmas can be an enjoyable habit... but the minute it becomes a burden, it needs to go away for a while! I stopped holiday baking for several years when it ceased being fun; well, this year I had a longing for making sugar cookies and decorating them, and so I stocked up on cookie cutters and sprinkles and went to town on the baking for gifts. I also ended up making over 25 dozen sausage-cheese balls over the month of December.

So I think I want to scrap both the (subconscious) traditions/habits of the last few decades (or the lack thereof)... and maybe be the host next year. I may just make pasta, I may have no presents but a movie marathon, I may have only a tiny tree for decoration or every room covered in ornaments and wreaths... there are no rules beyond trying to create some new traditions (Zero-dollar gifts... homemade gifts... sushi and cheesecake...) to help take us out of this misery of disappointed expectation.

I like my family. I don't have any stress being around them, they don't torment me or get drunk or cause unpleasant scenes or drama, and I am deeply grateful for that. But I think we can use a reboot.

Word du Jour

Paraprosdokian (from Wikipedia)
making the rounds... not sure of the origin!

A paraprosdokian (from Greek "παρα-", meaning "beyond" and "προσδοκία", meaning "expectation") is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes the reader or listener to reframe or reinterpret the first part. It is frequently used for humorous or dramatic effect, sometimes producing an anticlimax. For this reason, it is extremely popular among comedians and satirists.

Ø I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

Ø Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

Ø The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on the list.

Ø Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

Ø If I agreed with you we'd both be wrong.

Ø We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.

Ø War does not determine who is right - only who is left.

Ø Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

Ø The early bird might get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

Ø Evening news is where they begin with 'Good evening', and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.

Ø To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

Ø A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.

Ø How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

Ø I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted pay checks.

Ø A bank is a place that will lend you money, if you can prove that you don't need it.

Ø Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says "If an emergency, notify:" I put "DOCTOR".

Ø I didn't say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.

Ø Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?

Ø Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy.

Ø Why do Americans choose from just two people to run for president and 50 for Miss America?

Ø Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.

Ø A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

Ø You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.

Ø The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!

Ø Always borrow money from a pessimist. He won't expect it back.

Ø A diplomat is someone who can tell you to go to hell in such a way that you will look forward to the trip.

Ø Hospitality: making your guests feel like they're at home, even if you wish they were.

Ø Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.

Ø Some cause happiness wherever they go. Others whenever they go.

Ø There's a fine line between cuddling, and holding someone down so they can't get away.

Ø I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not sure.

Ø I always take life with a grain of salt, plus a slice of lemon, and a shot of tequila.

Ø When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

Ø You're never too old to learn something stupid.

Ø To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.

Ø Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

Ø Some people hear voices. Some see invisible people. Others have no imagination whatsoever.

Ø A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it as when you are in it.

Ø If you are supposed to learn from your mistakes, why do some people have more than one child?

Ø Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.