Saturday, March 14, 2009

2308 I haven't the faintest idea...

... what I did today, Saturday, March 14.

Saturday. I should have gone to the recycle center, but I didn't. I got up early enough, but ... didn't. I don't know why. I've got four bags of bottles, plastic, and cans, five bags of paper, and a two-foot stack of cardboard. I can't move in the kitchen.

At about 4 pm I crawled into bed, fully dressed except for shoes, hoping for maybe a rare nap, and got three words filled in on a crossword puzzle when Daughter called. So I got out of bed to answer the phone, then didn't go back.

I forgot to eat today.

I tried to make egg salad at about 10 pm, and got an unopened jar of mayonnaise out of the pantry, but then threw it out when I noticed it looked kind of yellow and discovered the date on it was 2003. So I tried tartar sauce, but the date on that was 2005, which I didn't notice until after I'd mixed it with my last two boiled eggs and decided they tasted funny. I should have just used french salad dressing. I think that's only maybe a couple months old, and I like sliced boiled eggs with french dressing dribbled on them. I'm disappointed.

Maybe I'll make some toast. Wish me luck with the peanut butter.

Friday, March 13, 2009

2307 Sigh.

Friday, March 13, 2009

With The Man yesterday into this morning. Things had been happening over the past month, it had been four weeks since I'd seen him last, during which time he had canceled two proposed dates, and, as usual I didn't find out why until it was over. Yeah, ok, it was big, and yeah, ok, he did have to put in that much overtime, and yeah, ok, he is going to reap major benefits from the effort. I can see it, understand it, and agree with it now. But during the dry times, weeks when we are two hours apart but somehow can't get it together, when he can't tell me what's going on, I don't think he realizes how very upset I get. How I begin to wonder why I'm wasting time on him. How I think about how I'm not getting what I need, want, and deserve from this ... this ... whatever it is.

And then I see him again, and I fall in love with him all over again. I love his face. I love his mind. I love his body. I love his strong protectiveness and his boyish enthusiasm. I love his nerdy cluelessness. I forgive his tenuous grasp of time passing.

This cycle has been going on for two years as of last weekend. Two years of being alternately passionately pissed and passionately in love. I adore him when I'm with him, and I'm angry with him when I'm not.

There's something wrong with that.

Chemistry is a sadistic bitch.

2306 Adventures with Alitalia

I very much enjoy Michael J. Totten's posts from hither and yon. If you have ever been delayed in an airport, you must read his post about a near riot in the Alitalia terminal in Rome. Incompetence on top of lies, on top of indifference, followed by more lies.

If I had been there, and if they had taken my luggage, and it was sitting right there, and they refused to give it back, well, I'd have eventually thrown a chair through a window. I am normally very reasonable, but I'm liable to freak out when no one else is willing to be reasonable. I was actually beginning to pant just reading his account (panting is my first sign of impending explosion). I find it difficult to believe that there wasn't a riot.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

2305 Sad

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

This video is sad in several ways. It's about cleaning out foreclosed homes. One sadness is the toys. The other sadness is that perfectly good things go to the dump. The guy says that they've tried coordinating with charities and it doesn't work.

Yeah, charity would be good, but ANYTHING would be better than just dumping. Maybe they could open the house for a few hours, and anyone who shows up can take anything they want that's not attached.

When I lived in St. Louis and they tore down the Pierre LaClede (sp?) building, they opened it to scavangers first. People got marble panels, carved banisters, all the good stuff was recycled. I ended up with four seven-foot bookcases.

Why did these people leave photos? What is their state of mind? Why, oh why, the dump? So much waste.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

2304 More Photos - Volcano!

[Click to enlarge and see the whole photo.]

I'm really enjoying the Boston photo sites. At

There are photos of the activity at the Chaiten volcano eruption. See especially the lightning photos. Amazing!

2303 More 2008 Photos

More gorgeous Boston news photos from 2008, at

There are links there to Parts 1 and 3. It would be an absolute shame if you didn't look.

2302 Barbie

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Driving to NJ yesterday to buy Peggy Sue, and to visit Daughter, and driving home, I listened to a lot of talk radio. Not political talk. I don't listen to the politically-motivated radio show hosts because I am aware that their purpose is NOT to educate or explain or explore or solve problems. Their sole purpose is to excite people to talk about them and their shows. Period. I don't like it when people attempt to manipulate my emotions for their own profit.

I listened to mostly news and discussion, interviews and the like. At least three times during the day I had to endure a biography of Barbie. She's 50 years old, you know. In case you haven't heard.

There are at least two versions of how she came to be. One is that the female half of the Mattel founders came up with the idea and fought for an adult doll. The other is that it was a male engineer employee who originated the concept.

I was very annoyed that everyone seemed to agree that Barbie was the first adult doll aimed for children. They say that there was a "Lily" doll in Germany, but that was meant as a sex toy (huh? How?) aimed to adults. (No one has mentioned the French fashion dolls of the 1800's.) So they admit that there were adult-shaped dolls, but insist that Barbie was the first for children.

Bull poopie!

Barbie was NOT the first "fashion doll" (read that as "with breasts"). Let's see - if she's 50, that means she debuted in 1959, right? In 1956 and 1957, Margaret Rae and I spent hours sitting on the floor of her bedroom in Ottawa, designing and sewing clothes for dolls that were the same size and shape as Barbie. I am absolutely certain it was pre-1959, because by 1958 I was back in Pennsylvania.

The dolls Margaret and I and every other girl our age played with were for the most part not sold directly to children in toy departments. You got them from bakeries. They were integral to the most popular of girl-type birthday cakes. The cake was baked in a bowl-shaped pan, the doll was stuck in the middle with the cake as her skirt, and it was all decorated beautifully with frosting lace and ruffles. There was always a metal charm baked into the skirt for luck and a special prize. After the birthday party, the birthday girl got the doll.

She was naked. There were no clothes made for her. We designed and sewed her wardrobe ourselves. The dolls were in great demand, therefore the doll cakes were in great demand, and that was the marketing plan associated with those dolls.

So Barbie was NOT the first adult-shaped doll sold for girls. Barbie was simply the first with a major marketing plan - the clothes, the cars, the houses, all the things she "needed".

Typical of Americans. It's not the product - it's the marketing that makes something special. We are celebrating the 50th birthday not of Barbie, but of the "accessory" marketing plan. Next time you pay $35 for ink for your $50 printer, remember that's the legacy of Barbie.

Who, by the way, was NOT the first adult doll for children.

2301 Meet Peggy Sue

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Yesterday I went to a warehouse in East Brunswick, NJ, and bought a mannequin. Why? Just 'cause I want one. Actually, it's because I noticed that clothing displayed on a mannequin online sells for a lot more than the same thing displayed on a hanger or spread out on a bed. And mannequins are not at all as expensive as I thought they were.

The lady I got is surprisingly heavy. She comes apart at the neck, shoulders, waist, wrist, and the left leg comes off at the hip. For $12 more I got a long straight black wig.

I went in with an idea of what I wanted:
Average height
No face (smooth egg-shaped head)
Not terribly skinny (size 8-ish would be perfect)
Matte skin, so it wouldn't reflect flash through sheer fabric
White or silver or tan color, not black because I lot of what I want to sell is black

There were perhaps 50 different models in the display room, but I quickly got narrowed down to about 4, because, surprise, only a few of the mannequins were less than six feet tall. I didn't know that. No wonder clothes look good in stores! Most mannequins are tall, and super skinny. You can get them with fuller bodies, but those are special order and much more expensive.

So, my lady has a face, with brown eyes and amazing long false eyelashes. At 5'8", she's 32" x 24" x 34".

I asked the Asian saleswoman if my model had a name, and was told yes, her name is PS-G2. So, meet Peggy Sue:


Sunday, March 08, 2009

2300 I'll trade...

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Yesterday it was warm, over 60 F, with dull white skies. But warm. So I thought I'd go for a walk. As soon as I opened the door, the rain came.

Today it is warm, over 60 F, with spotty blue and white sky, so I thought I'd go for a walk. But the sun never came out from behind the clouds, and the breeze was sharp, and it chilled me.

I'd happily trade 20 of those degrees for bright sun.


I read somewhere yesterday that "depression is actually anger without enthusiasm".

Interesting thought. Whoever said it may be correct in many cases. I've known a few people diagnosed and treated for clinical depression (Ex#2, FW, a few others), and they all carried enormous amounts of unacknowledged and unexpressed anger.

Don't jump on me, I'm not saying all, but it seems to have been true in my experience. It also says nothing about which came first. But, for me, it is true that the folks I have known who presented as depressed were also filled to overflowing with anger, the genesis usually anger at the unfairness of institutions or systems that they had been taught they must respect (which anger they were not allowed to recognize, let alone express, because it was "bad" to do so) and then it spread to all aspects of their life.

Justified anger, reasonably and enthusiastically expressed, and recognized and accepted by others, is healthy.

Ahah! This blog IS my therapy!


We should all be bankruptcy lawyers.

Whenever someone is put in charge of dispersing assets, whether the executor of an estate or the administrator of a bankruptcy, the court has to approve their fees, to prevent raiding of the estate or of the assets of the company.

Handling a bankruptcy is detailed work, hard work. But I don't see where it's so much harder than other legal services. So what would make a bankruptcy law firm decide that it deserves $1100 per hour, per lawyer? Holy @#$%^&*!!

The judge decided it was excessive, too, and is forcing them to accept only a piddling $925 per hour. Per lawyer. And assistants, no doubt.

What could possibly make them worth that much per hour?

[The above link is to It's safe.]