Sunday, February 27, 2011

3176 Loosening the noose

Sunday, February 27, 20011

You know you're in law school when you consider dropping out of school approximately every hour,
but after that first semester you realize you are already in too much debt
to be anything but a lawyer.

---------------------------------------------------

A lot has happened since yesterday's posts. Zig has been very helpful, informative, protective, and supportive. He even engaged FW in casual conversation and determined that in fact she will NOT be attending the gathering next weekend. The report that she was going was perhaps a misunderstanding. (No one else wanted to ask her directly for fear that if they asked, it would make her want to go, and she'd hit them up for a ride and a room.)

That's a major relief. I think I'll forgive Zig all his past transgressions and even allow him a few free future ones. And others have raised a small army of volunteer bodyguards who said they'd make sure I was always surrounded by people at the gathering.

People who don't know her wonder why she frightens me so much. People who do know her understand. When she's "in a state", all the normal governors are off, she's absolutely unpredictable, and she's strangely obsessed with me. Bad combination.

Zig has expressed surprise that she is suddenly friendly toward him, calls and chatting over the past week or so. She's got me so paranoid right now that I'm thinking maybe she's being so friendly with him because she knows he and I don't get along very well, he always knows what's going on in the group, and she's subtly milking him for information - like what I might be doing to undermine her, what others think about how I have been attacking her (the attacks are in her mind only, no one else sees it that way, but in her view that's what's going on, and I don't understand that at all), and so on.

-------------------------------

This is weird. When the month changes, or the year changes, I sometimes use the old month or year on checks and the blog until I get used to it. This past week I've been using "October" instead of "February" when I date blog posts. I seem to really think it's October.

I'm surprised no one noticed and razzed me about it. I went back and fixed the posts, but now I'm concerned about why. Am I really that whacked? Or is it a warning, that something significant will happen in October? I'm sure it's next October. In fact, this morning I thought, "Oh, wow, today is my birthday." I really thought for a moment that it is now October.

For a long time, the first week of October was a bad time. That's when Jay had his first seizure, his first recurrence of the tumor, and so on for the four years of his fight. Every October, the first week brought some very bad news, and it continued that way for several more years.

I guess we'll have to wait a few more months to see what happens.

Remember - you heard it here first (whatever it is....)

--------------------------------

There are people who use the U.S. motto, "In God We Trust", and the words in the pledge, "under God", as PROOF! that the country was formed as religious-based.

They don't know their history. The reference to a god was added to the pledge in 1954, and the motto, which first appeared on coins during the Civil War, was adopted as the official motto in 1956.

The Founding Fathers had nothing to do with either.

The pledge was written by a Baptist minister in the early 1890s, and the later "under God" was added by a chaplain, and promulgated by the Knights of Columbus, a Catholic organization. They of course refer to their god. Regardless of any other consideration, my opinion is that requiring one to pledge allegiance "under God" is the establishment and endorsement of a particular version of religion as official, and therefore is expressly prohibited by the Constitution.

Oof. I don't know where that rant came from.... Some pompous ass on TV must have gotten to me.
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3175 Interesting Observation

Sunday, February 27, 2011

"Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers".
--
T.S. Eliot --

------------------------------------

As you've probably heard, corporations are now "people" -- humanoids that are equivalent to you and me.

Since the 13th Amendment bans slavery, which is the ownership of a person, the newly born corporate "persons" cannot legally be bought and sold. Thus Wall Street -- now a slave market -- must be shut down! Let us all join hands and march for this new civil rights cause, chanting, "Free the Corporate Slaves!"

From AlterNet, By Jim Hightower

Saturday, February 26, 2011

3174 Now I'm getting scared.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

“The most ineffective workers are systematically moved
to the place where they can do the least damage: management.”
-- Scott Adams --

---------------------------------------------

FW is heating up, and I don't understand why. I wouldn't be surprised to find her coming at me with a jar of acid. I'm not kidding. I almost never lock my front door during daylight, but I'm locking it now. She's flat-out crazy.

I have found that I can usually let go of things by writing them out, so here goes. The history. This is pretty long, as is every study in madness.

--------------------------------

She's a member of Mid-Hudson Mensa. At a group dinner in late 2006, I mentioned that I couldn't remember ever going out for New Year's Eve. She mentioned a dinner and a good retro band, but she couldn't afford it, so we decided to go together, and I paid for the evening for both of us.

We enjoyed it. We started going to parties, dances, dinners, movies, and so on together. She and I are very different (she's a nudist, heavy marijuana user, politically involved, artistic, and she has described herself as bi in the past "but is no longer"), so I found her views fascinating. She's on disability, so I usually footed the bill. I didn't mind, because I have it and at least I was getting out.

This was also the period when Roman was jerking me around, and I needed someone to talk with. She was madly in love with a guy who was living with another woman, with whom he had two or three small children. They used to get together at a place back in the woods near Mohonk where nudists hung out all summer. (She tried many times to talk me into going there with her, but I'm absolutely not a nudist, not even close, and from the stories, it wasn't a place for people just to be free of clothing restrictions - it was more a place for gays to cruise and straights to roll around together in the poison ivy - very sexually charged.) Or he'd show up at her house and they'd roll around there, then he'd leave. He kept promising her he was going to leave the other woman, but it showed no signs of happening.

Anyway, within a few months, she was chewing me out for not being attentive enough. She informed me that she expected chatty phone calls, a minimum of once a week. I'd told her many times that I hate the telephone, when I make a call to anyone, it's brief, to conduct some kind of business or ask a question, I just don't EVER call anyone just to chat. I hate the telephone! Even my cell phone was turned on only in emergencies. She continued to castigate me for not calling. She said some nasty things to me over my not calling. (Note - she rarely called me because it was a toll call.) She said hurtful things that left me feeling bad.

Things bumped on that way through most of 2007. I, by early summer, had started turning down invitations, because it seemed that no matter what I did, how I was, it wasn't what she thought I should do/say/be, it just wasn't enough for her. She was very demanding, and vicious when things didn't go as she wanted.

In September of 2007, she decided she wanted to go to the Mensa Hallowe'en gathering in Chicago, but she didn't want to go alone. I wasn't particularly interested, but she talked me into it. What the heck, this is supposed to be one of the largest and best of the regional gatherings, so ok, at least I'd have someone to go with. (I absolutely wouldn't have gone alone, so this was an opportunity.) I said yes, and paid for my gathering registration and four nights at the hotel, and made the flight reservation.

A week later, she informed me that she couldn't afford both the gathering registration and the plane ticket. I shrugged and paid her gathering registration. A few days after that, she asked if she could share my room, since she couldn't afford a room of her own. By now, I'm already into this for two registrations, four days' room for me, and my plane ticket, almost $1,000. Either I find her a place to sleep, or cancel everything and take the loss, or I end up going alone. I don't share a room, ever, except with a man I'm sleeping with, it just doesn't work for me, so I shrugged and reserved another room for four nights for her.

Yeah, you feel what's coming next? A few days later she says she can't afford the plane ticket. I somewhere acquired some balls and wished her luck finding a courier ticket or something. No, I couldn't afford to fly her out. Sorry.

I guess she found some money somewhere, because she made it to the gathering. I arrived Thursday afternoon, she arrived in the evening, and we had dinner at the hotel. She was having new troubles with that guy, and talked steadily about him during dinner. I knew she wouldn't want to hear what I had to say about him, so I listened, I really was attentive, "uh huh"ed at the appropriate moments, didn't say anything against him, and refrained from changing the topic.

She didn't sleep in her room Thursday night. She spent the whole night in the hospitality suite, drinking and talking, and then slept most of Friday.

Friday night was the Hallowe'en party. She decided she was going to go '60s and had asked me if I knew how to do a beehive. I said yes, so she decided I was going to do her hair early that evening. At a time of her choosing, of course. It took 1.5 hours. There were two presentations I wanted to see that I blew off to do her hair. She slept in her room that night, BUT, and I'm sorry, but I found this unbelievable, she informed me that night that she was leaving the gathering in the morning to meet a blind date in Chicago, and would be going clubbing with him Saturday and Sunday nights, and would be staying with him until her return home Monday. I asked if she had canceled the hotel room for those nights, and she acted surprised.

So Saturday morning I frogmarched her down to the desk and made sure she canceled the room, and wished her luck with the rest of the weekend. So, except for dinner Thursday, doing her hair Friday, and checking her out on Saturday morning, I was there alone for the gathering. Exactly what I didn't want to do. I felt royally used. She just wanted a trip to Chicago.

Well the next week, she called me and chewed me out up one side and down the other for not being sympathetic enough at dinner Thursday! I, like a guilty puppy, just took her abuse. I said nothing. In fact, I think I may even have apologized. It was only later that I realized that I had done nothing wrong. No thank you for the registration and room, no thank you for blowing off my plans and doing her hair instead, nothing. I felt royally used.

I did nothing, said nothing. But the next time she called, wanting to go to dinner or something, I told her that I didn't think I could be around her any more, that she made me feel bad too often, that I had worked very hard to learn to like myself and I couldn't allow her to keep tearing me down, so no, I don't think our getting together is a good idea.

That was 2007.

Now, she was the president of the local Mensa group, and I had volunteered to rewrite the Bylaws. The sessions were to be held at her home, as central to the three of us on the committee. That worked out ok. We were civil. And then something terrifying happened in April of 2008. It's amusingly described here: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2008/04/1752-psycho-ex-girlfriend.html.

I had to "break up with her" all over again.

In June, another group member, John, was having a cookout and invited all the active members. When he called her to invite her, he asked for other members' phone numbers. She wouldn't give him my number. She told him not to bother calling me, she'd call me and tell me about it. She never did. When I heard about the cookout, I was a little hurt that everyone but me (I?) had been invited. Of course, no one knew that FW had told John she'd take care of it, John didn't know she hadn't, and of course no one was going to ask John why I hadn't been invited.

That was all in 2008.

In 2009, other people in the group starting having run-ins with her. There was a public incident in a restaurant which resulted in the group treasurer resigning on the spot. Other members of the governing board were accused of undermining her control when they simply did what they thought were their duties. She was getting increasingly paranoid and irrational. A possible contributing factor was that the guy she'd been involved with married the other woman and moved to the Carolinas.

In August of 2009, she had to go to the hospital for surgery, and, amazingly, called me to ask me to take her to the hospital and to help her. I did. Somehow, that's an "of course". I was still thinking we could be civil. That story is here: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2009/08/2464-day-in-hospital.html.

That was 2009.

In March of 2010, we had the public "F**k you" screaming incident, described at http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/03/2803-buck-you-fuddy.html, in case you skipped it in the previous post.

2010 was a group election year. I was on the nominating committee, and I worked hard to get a full slate. Several of the people nominated were people she'd had problems with. She announced that she wasn't going to run for reelection, and I didn't push her to change her mind. She started skipping governing board meetings, and then suddenly resigned her position. She dropped out of the Yahoo group. She withdrew from chapter activities, which was a relief for a lot of people, because they had gone beyond finding her merely difficult to work with, and were beginning to actively fear her.

Several people told me that she had decided to no longer take her medications. She thought she could function without them. That scared ME! Not for me, for her.

Our last direct contact had been the "F**k you" thing. The next time I saw her was at the holiday dinner in December, when we ignored each other, and I got the distinct impression that she expected me to approach her first. Then there was the dinner last week, when I again did not approach her.

And now there's the Yahoo group exchanges detailed in the previous post. All I was trying to do was help her, and she attacked me and anyone who attempted to defend me.

It has gotten worse since.

Yesterday I found something amusing and posted it to the group. This is the complete text of my post:
Subject: Accepting your Oscar: A Guide

From Shoebox.com (http://www.shoeboxblog.com/?p=23859):

Thank the little people, but don't call them "little people" because they HATE that.
Thank the spiritual being of your choice. Point up/over/ wherever (probably not down).
Thank the producer, even if he's just some rich jerk who knows nothing about movie making.
Definitely act surprised. Practice this one in the mirror beforehand.
Thank significant other, then blow a kiss to him/her. Have significant other
practice "in love" face.
Use the exit music to dance your way off stage. "The Worm" would be preferable.
I thought it amusing. If you watch people accepting Oscars, that's exactly how they do it. Except for the last sentence, maybe.

Well, today I got this personal email from another member:

FYI and confidential - [the group moderator] has placed [FW] in a "Moderator must approve posts" category on our Yahoo group. One of her two most recent posts is pending moderator approval. It claims your "Accepting Your Oscar" post is actually a slew of double entendres, and the tone of her note implies paranoia.

Regardless of whether there is anything going on (which I seriously doubt), I don't think anyone else would see that and would simply assume it is "[FW] being [FW]."

[FW] will be at [the regional gathering next weekend].
(I admit I am wrong to post that note when the author has marked it confidential, but if I turn up dead or seriously injured this weekend, show this post to the cops.)

By the way, the other of her "two most recent posts" was "Subject: The excitement is Growing", and contained only this link: http://mediumlarge.wordpress.com/2011/02/24/cats-quote-charlie-sheen/. Now, how does "the excitement is growing" apply as the subject? Do you find it ominous that it's hate-filled ranting?

So. I'm seriously scared. It will be impossible to avoid her at the gathering, and if nobody shows up at her Oscar party tomorrow night she WILL blame me. That's just the way she thinks. And she WILL retaliate. I'm serious. But I can't allow her to keep me from going to the gathering. I won't hide from her. I think I'm going to have to ask some of the other friends there to act as bodyguard. Never leave me alone.
.

Friday, February 25, 2011

3173 Foiled again

Friday, February 25, 2011

Next time you’re stuck in traffic, remember - you ARE the traffic.

---------------------------------------

I had told the world I would be heading to the old house today, with the van, and I intended to bring back loads and loads of stuff Saturday or Sunday morning. I've GOT to get moving on this.

The forecast is rain rain rain here and all the way up the road, where it becomes snow at the old house. Worse, they predict wind, with gusts up to 60 mph.

Are you kidding me?!

I guess there's no point in trying.

--------------------------------

FW is getting vicious again.

In December, I went to a Mensa holiday dinner with about 30 people, and she was there. She was sitting at a different table, and neither she nor I said hello. At one point in the evening she walked past my table (where she was headed I don't know) with her face averted, but her eyes were slid over at me. I think she expected me to make the first move.

It was one year ago next weekend that she screamed "F**k you!" over and over at me in public (story here: http://thesilkentouch.blogspot.com/2010/03/2803-buck-you-fuddy.html) at the annual Central NJ Mensa Gathering, embarrassing herself so badly that within a few months she resigned as president of the group. Many other people had experienced her wrath on other occasions, and nobody wants to work with her any more. She also withdrew from the Yahoo group where events are posted, topics are discussed, and people RSVP for events.

Well, she's sorta back.

She attended the dinner I went to last week. At least three people had made a point of warning me that she'd be there. I said, "Thanks for the heads-up, but I don't expect any problem. I'll be civil, but I don't intend to give her any openings."

So, as we met at the restaurant, when we were ready to order, she had not yet arrived. Peter mentioned to the waitress that we were expecting one more, and the waitress rolled her eyes and said, "She's probably lost." Turns out FW had called for directions, and the waitress told her blah blah and then turn right at blah blah intersection, and FW said, "No, I turn left there", and argued with the waitress as to where the restaurant was. According to the waitress, it was very unpleasant.

The others at the table decided that the annual Central NJ Gathering was a forbidden topic, because most of us were going, and if it were mentioned, she'd likely ask for a ride and for someone to share a hotel room with her. (To her, "share a room" means you pay for it and she sleeps in it.)

She arrived. She sat on the same side of the table as me, with Roman between us, so we couldn't really see each other unless we leaned forward. At one point she did lean forward and said she liked my haircut. I said thank you, and a guy across the table asked why I had cut it, and I launched into an explanation involving wind and hats, directed to him, and then the conversation moved on. FW laughed a lot at things that were said, she tried to be pleasant, but I was a little worried because her laugh was a bit too loud and a bit too high pitched. It seemed to me that she was wound pretty tight. All the more reason not to engage her.

Then a notice was posted on the Yahoo group. She was hosting a Oscars night party at her home. I got a little worried, because everyone who might attend had either been seriously offended by her, or was flat-out afraid of her. When a few days went by with no positive RSVPs, I got worried for her. If no one came, it could kick her over the edge.

I knew that there was one thing that always draws Mensans, and that's free food. Her notice had said that there would be "light refreshments." She has always set a good table. Everything is always a little unusual, and always delectable. So I posted a general note that they "[FW]'s refreshments may be light, but they are always delicious".

The shit hit the fan.

First she posted something she'd found on the internet - a list of "backhanded compliments".

Then she posted a public note addressed to me, that she "didn't need any backhanded compliments from" me.

I responded, "That wasn't meant as backhanded. You yourself described them as 'light'. I salivated when I read 'refreshments'. You've always laid a delicious table. Please don't read into it just because it came from me, and you perhaps feel some guilt and perhaps expect retaliation. I don't do that."

(Yeah, a subtle reminder that SHE had attacked ME over and over, and had never apologized. OK, I'm not perfect.)

Her response: "We all know that Silk. You're pure as a newborn babe."

A newish member who has never met either of us posted that she didn't know what was going on between us, but exchanges like that don't exactly encourage inactive members to become active: "Well, this is really going to encourage inactive members to come. Unless there is some existing enmity between the two of you, I can't see how Silk's original remark was anything but completely logical and innocuous. Actually it's the sort of thing I would say myself."

From there others jumped in and it went west, as they say.

Sheesh. All I wanted to do was encourage members to attend her Oscar night party, tempting them with good munchies, to save her from a total rejection, and she attacks me for that. If she commits suicide during the Oscars, I'll feel guilty.

Maybe.

By the way, the suicide reference above sounds snide, but it isn't. She has seriously attempted suicide before, and was committed for an extended period, and she is fragile. And that's why I wanted to save her the pain of Oscar night no-shows. It might not get that bad, but it could tip her into ... into ... wherever that dark place is that she goes when she feels dissed. I just wanted to help.

If she shows up at the annual central NJ gathering next weekend, I don't know what I'll do. It will be impossible to talk with her, it won't be easy to avoid her, and I refuse to leave a room just because she's in it. But I know damn well that if she has any opportunity, she'll attack. She'll blame me for nobody showing up for her Oscars party.

So, anybody have any opinions, suggestions?
.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

3172 Zombie laptop

Thursday, February 24, 2011

A drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My laptop is acting weird.

I put it to sleep Tuesday night after closing the ISP (a Verizon broadband doohickey that plugs into a USB port) and the browser (Firefox), and Wednesday morning I found it up and running, and displaying the message "Windows has recovered from an unexpected shutdown".

Duh?

Scheduled things will still run through sleep, so I thought maybe it was running a defragment job and burped and thought it had to restart. That's reasonable, I guess.

So last night instead of sleep, I shut it down completely. Again this morning I found it up and running, and displaying the message "Windows has recovered from an unexpected shutdown".

Duh? That's not reasonable.

How do I kill it and make it stay dead? If I unplug it and it starts itself, it'll just run down the battery.

The internet is no help. Apparently it happens to other people, but they're on networks, or there's a bad connection in the "on" button and it gets jiggled, stuff like that, and I'm pretty sure that's not my problem.

I'm not worried about a virus, because I don't do unsafe stuff, and I have multiple sniffers and checkers. It's not somebody trying to remotely access my system because it's not connected to the internet at the time, and can't connect because of my connection type.

Sigh.

Another problem, all of a sudden it won't bring devices online on the fly. You know how if you plug something in, it makes that ba-cling sound, and then you can use it? Today I plugged the printer in a USB port, and never got the ba-cling. The printer remained offline. And I didn't get the ba-clunk sound when I unplugged it to try another USB port. Same thing with the scanner.

However, if the printer or scanner is plugged in when I do a restart, it's online and works fine.

Something is messed up.
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3171 Unraveling the budget and the knitting in one fell swoop

Thursday, February 24, 20011

"Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

-------------------------------------------

Fred the minivan has been leaking a bright pink fluid for some time now, which has made me reluctant to drive him the 2.5 hours up to the old house. I consulted the book, and it said it could be either power steering or transmission fluid. It leaks only for a few days after I'd driven him, and then it stops, and it was bright pink, not a dirty pink, so I suspected it was the power steering - on the theory that transmission fluid would be a bit more "used" looking.

I had been waiting for a warmish day with no wind so I could check the levels of both, and then it occurred to me that even if I did find one low, what then? I could add more fluid, but what if it let loose all of a sudden on the thruway? I decided to have it professionally diagnosed.

I spent a few hours knitting this morning in the Chrysler dealership waiting room. It was the transmission seals.

Net - between Hal's pothole bubbled tire and Fred's seals, I've spent about $1,500 on car repairs this past month. Taxes are due on the old house, the gas bill on the new house is murder, and premiums on three insurance policies will come due within the next month. Yeah, I've got savings, I'm not going to starve, but, let's face it, I'm the one who washes zip-lock bags and reuses them. I BUDGET!

I guess I *can* wait to find out why Suzie Suzuki is belching smoke.

--------------------------------

I wanted to knit a baby blanket. I bought a kit from Herrschners, which included the yarn and a pattern book, and on the last trip to the old house I picked up my needles. I wanted to make the blanket, "Little Blessings", on the cover of the pattern book.

The pattern is screwed up!

It says at the end of row 16, you should have 159 stitches. But after doing row 17 and ripping it out twice, I mapped the pattern for row 17, and it requires 160 stitches. I added another stitch, and row 17 worked. Then when I got to row 19, the repeating lacy pattern didn't match up to row 17. On row 17, the pattern repeats every 6 stitches. On row 19, the pattern repeats every 7 stitches! Something's very wrong. I ripped out three rows and tried to add a stitch to the pattern on row 17, or subtract a stitch on row 19, and then realized that since I don't really know which is the "correct" guess at the error, there was a 50-50 chance I'd run into worse problems further up, when the design changed.

I ripped the whole thing out and started over with a free fan and shell ripple pattern from the internet.

The Herrschners pattern book is three years old. You can't convince me that no one has complained about that pattern. In decades past, when there was an error in a pattern book (and it's not uncommon), there has always been a correction letter tucked in the book.

I am very disappointed in you, Herrschners.
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Monday, February 21, 2011

3170 At least most of the snow has melted

Monday, February 21, 2011

"In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is freedom, in water there is bacteria."
-- Ben Franklin --

-----------------------------------------------

For two days at the end of last week, we had decent weather, in the low to mid 60s. Saturday we had a cold wind so strong it was difficult for me to stand. This morning we had snow. Not much, and it was mostly gone by evening, but still....

Mother Nature is a tease.
.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

3169 Spitting

Sunday, February 20, 2011

“[That] is forbidden. But possible.”
-- Common French saying --

-----------------------------------------------------------------

I don't get into political discussions with Piper any more. He's solidly extreme right wing, sees only the wingnut viewpoint. He tries to "educate" me, to turn me from my obviously mistaken ways, but I just shake my head and change the subject.

In all the bad things that have been happening in his life right now, the good thing is that the market is picking up. He congratulated me Friday that of all his investment clients, I've been the only one who didn't panic at all back when everything was tanking. I just shrugged and assured him that everything would eventually come back. Sooner or later. Sit tight. (During the bad times he looked really bad. Discouraged. Wanted to avoid talking to his clients.)

I've made back all the money I lost during the dip, and made 3% on my investments in the past month alone. Piper wanted to give all the credit for the turnaround to his new tea bag buddies in Congress. I pointed out that yes, rich folks are brightening up. I've heard that sales of BMW, Mercedes, and Lexus are up, luxury resorts and spas are picking up again. But it's not so bright for the little folk. His buddies in Congress are making all kinds of cuts, but the programs they're cutting are all cuts to the poorer folks. Services. They're taking from the poor and giving to the rich. So yeah, naturally the rich are happy, and that's what's reflected in the market.

As Field says, "Those 235 poli-tricksters remind me of the bully that goes to the playground looking for a fight, and ignores the bigger kids shooting hoops and heads straight to the swing and jungle gym to pick on the smaller kids."

The smaller kids can't afford lobbyists.

--------------------------------

I don't understand why they want to cut Social Security. Despite everything you hear, SS is not running out of money. In fact, SS has been running a significant surplus, and actually lends money to the federal government. They just don't want to count the loans as SS assets, because then they'd have to pay them back. Oh, by the way, remember when "they" wanted to "privatize" Social Security, i.e. invest the money in the stock market? Funny that we don't hear so much about that these days. I wonder why. I guess they forgot why Social Security was started in the first place.

--------------------------------

Last time I had been to the old house, from all the droppings it looked like the mice were running riot, so I set mouse traps. I caught only one mouse. I don't understand.

--------------------------------

I buy a lot of stuff online. The delivery guys around here (FedEx, UPS, USPS, and that other one) just drop the stuff on the doorstep. UPS is the only service that bothers to ring the doorbell, sometimes. At the old house, I was way up a long drive off the end of a dead-end street, and the house wasn't visible from the road or from neighbors' houses, but delivery guys always rang the doorbell when they left a package. Here, houses are cheek-by-jowl, the doorstep and anything on it is close to and clearly visible from a street full of traffic, cyclists, and pedestrians, but the delivery services just dump the package and run.

Several times I've stepped out the front door and found packages I didn't know were there.

Worse, I could have stepped out and NOT found packages I DIDN'T know SHOULD have been there.

FedEx is the weirdest. They have little stickies that say "We delivered your package", and have spaces for date and time, and check boxes for things like front door, back door, garage, neighbor, and so on.

Only two problems. They don't fill out ANY of the spaces or boxes, and they stick it on the package!

What good does that do?

(Oh, look, there's a Delivery Notice on this package saying they delivered a package. I wonder where the package is?)

--------------------------------

When I'm on the computer in the morning and evening, Jasper bugs me to play. I accidentally discovered how to get him to not disturb me.

I sit at the desk on a canvas director's chair. I had put another canvas chair next to mine one day to show someone something on the computer. Jasper has appropriated the chair. I guess he likes the canvas sling seat. He's happy to sit or sleep there, as long as I reach over and stroke his head every so often.

The only problem is that it's right below the printer, so I have to warn him before I print anything. He's such a chicken....

-------------------------------

Last month Daughter was running out of pants, so I invited her to shop in my closet. I had some loose knit drawstring pants that fit her expanding belly fine. She's fine on tops - she wears a lot of baggy sweaters anyway. Yesterday she said she's down to one pair of shoes, running shoes that are wide enough for her expanding feet. We wear about the same size, but my feet are wider than hers, so I think I'll be short some shoes soon, too.

Baby's due the end of April. No, after three frustrating ultrasounds, they still don't know, so "quit asking!"
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Saturday, February 19, 2011

3168 Life is what happens when you're not looking

Saturday, February 19, 2011

The philosophy of the school room in one generation
will be the philosophy of government in the next.
-- Abraham Lincoln --

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Got this one from my sister - Homemade Implants:


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I haven't been here in a few days. Haven't really been keeping up with others' blogs, either. I guess I've been busy.

Thursday evening I drove northwest to have dinner with the Southern Orange Mensa sub-group. It was supposed to be a 1.5 hour drive, but it took two because I followed the GPS, and he took me down tiny roads, through areas with traffic lights every quarter mile, during rush hour, finishing up with a narrow winding road through the mountains, in the dark. It took two harrowing hours, which, given the route and time of day, was pretty good time. I don't think I'll use the GPS for that trip any more. I'll go north on the highways, then ask his opinion just for the cut over to the west.

After leaving there, I drove northeast another 1.25 hours to the old house.

On Friday I filled more bags and boxes to throw out, recycle, sell, and bring back here. It's still pretty overwhelming. I visited Piper and his daughter at their office before heading back here. Piper was pretty low. His favorite sister had gone into the hospital for surgery in early January, and picked up a MRSA infection that rapidly shut down organs, starting with her kidneys. It's been touch and go since then.

He'd gotten the call Thursday afternoon that she had maybe 48 hours, so he and his niece were wait-listed on a flight to Florida early Saturday morning. Holiday weekend. Bad for travel. Piper's elderly mother is in poor health, and the family had not told her that her daughter was so ill, hoping for a miracle to make it unnecessary, so now Piper is worried about what this will do to his mother.

And, as if all that isn't enough, it looks like his housemate may be having a recurrence of breast cancer.

Not a good week for Piper.

We went to the diner for coffee, and ended up eating an early dinner.

--------------------------------

Just before meeting with Piper, as I was putting the last things into the car, The Hunk came barreling up the driveway. (It's funny, but whenever I see him driving up, he looks like a Mountie.) We talked for a while. It might have been longer, but I had to head down to Peter's office.

Anyway, the Suzy the Suzuki is still there, and he suggested that I start her. I haven't started her on the last few visits because she's been pretty much buried in snow. So, we stomped down the snow on the passenger side so we could get the door open, and I crawled across and started her. Good Girl! She started right up!

Then she started blowing smoke into the passenger cabin. Nothing coming out from under the hood, but definite smoke inside. Turned her off, checked under the hood, nothing burning. Gave it up for now. Next trip north we'll have to figure it out. Maybe a mouse nest in the heater? A belt rubbing? Whatever....

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Today I've been sorting and laundering and distributing what I brought back last night. Went out for lunch with Daughter. Trying to catch up with email, news, and blogs. The online Mensa groups have been buzzing all week with the Watson/Jeopardy thing. And having missed the first of this season's Survivor I had to watch it online.

Life goes on. I play catch up.
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Wednesday, February 16, 2011

3167 A wandering mind

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

"All meetings last longer than they should."
-- Scott Adams --

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An oddity: When I was young, the islands of the Caribbean were often referred to as the West Indies. You never hear that anymore.

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When Daughter was in school, I would get very annoyed because when the allotted snow days were used up, in order to meet the mandated minimum, the school board would extend the school year into middle to late June, despite the fact that Spring Break was supposed to be used. The reason? Because teachers had scheduled vacations during Spring Break and were angry that they might have to eat plane tickets. The teachers were stupid to count on having those days.

Something has changed in the past twenty years. The school district at the old house has announced that they have already used up the snow allotment, and if there are any more snow days, they will use the Spring Break. Cool.

What I don't understand is the way they have chosen to use it - guaranteed to piss off a lot of people.
"If school needs to be closed for emergency reasons, weather-related or otherwise, and additional “make-up” days are needed, classes will then be in session first on Wednesday, April 20, and thereafter on Thursday, April 21, and then on Tuesday, April 19th, in that order. If additional “make-up” days are needed beyond that, April 18 and April 22 will then be under consideration."
This says that if one more snow day is needed, they're taking it out of the middle of the break.

I don't understand.

I guess maybe they're thinking that they'll at least preserve two long weekends?

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There's a lot of talk about raising the Social Security retirement age again. There's something they're not taking into consideration.

Not so very long ago, if you got a good job, and kept your nose clean and your manager happy (which was often a contradiction, if you know what I mean), and kept your skills up, you pretty much had a job for life.

Nowadays, the only people with that much security are folks in strong unions. High tech companies have pretty much been able to avoid unionization. The technology, however, changes so quickly these days that those companies find it efficient to get rid of older folks (who are higher on the salary ladder) and replace them with new college graduates, at a lower starting salary, who will impact company-sponsored health plans less, and who already know the new stuff.

This means that people over 50 are finding it increasingly difficult to find permanent jobs. They end up working temporary contracts, with minimal benefits, no vacations, and no retirement plan. (The benefits of contracting at different companies in various industries are that you end up with a robust and varied resume, which makes it easier to get the next contracting job. The down side is that it still doesn't help you to get a permanent job with all the benefits.) Periods of unemployment between contracts make it difficult to maintain your own retirement plans.

The saddest cases are the folks who worked for the same company for 24 years and then were replaced by a kid. They are 50 years old and have experience specific to that industry and, worse, skills possibly specific only to that company.

It isn't going to get any better. The days of the lifetime job are over. It's only going to get worse.

These folks who want to raise S.S. eligibility to 70, what do they think people will be doing for the last 25 years (or more, the way things are going) of their working life? Nobody is guaranteeing that they'll have a job until then.

Of course, the people who are proposing, considering, and will be voting on this plan have lifetime benefits and a generous retirement, regardless of how long they are in office. They have no idea what others have to contend with.

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I've been checking around for a hair salon. Becs has even offered her adored Herschel. I'm sort of keeping that in reserve (thanks Becs), but closer would be better.

I want someone who will cut my hair DRY. Not just will cut it dry, but fully understands why I want it cut dry.

There are places online where one can read customer reviews, but I'm suspicious of them. How do I know those reviews are not plants - employees or family and friends of employees?

So, I did something dangerous.

I bought a fine-tooth rattail comb. I already have hair shears. I trimmed it myself. I didn't change the style. I just parted it every which way and smoothed the choppiness, trimmed wherever chunks of hair were sticking out beyond the other hairs around them. It's still a little chunky because in some spots chunks were so short it would have been pretty drastic to cut the longer stuff around them down to that length, so I had to leave it uneven. And the right side is still slightly longer than the left. But it does blend a lot nicer now, and it looks less like a wig at the back of my neck.

I like it now.
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Monday, February 14, 2011

3166 Google search rankings

Monday, February 14, 2011

"In any group of three people, there's generally at least one disruptive moron."
-- Scott Adams --

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Ever wonder how sites end up on the top in Google searches? The answer: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/02/13/business/13search.html?_r=2&hp=&pagewanted=all
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3165 Memory lost

Monday, February 14, 2011

"To mediocre minds, a brilliant idea and a stupid idea sound identical."
-- Scott Adams --

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When I first moved here, I was amazed at how good my memory suddenly got.

I've always had difficulty remembering things like my phone number, other people's names (my favorite story was when I called Daughter's high school from work to tell the office that I'd be picking her up for a doctor's appointment, and I couldn't remember my own Daughter's name - true story!), addresses, zip codes, which doctor I see, who my lawyer is, and so on. When I worked, I carried a notebook everywhere with an organization chart inside the cover, because otherwise I'd forget my own manager's name.

(On the other hand, I used to be able to remember all conversations word-for-word. I might not remember who I was talking with, but I could quote it back. When I was young, I could remember every word I read, to the point that I could tell you whether a particular sentence was on the right or left page, toward the top or bottom. But I couldn't tell you the name of the text/book/article/magazine or the author.)

But somehow, here, I picked it all up so easily. I GOT it all! I remembered new neighbor's names, my address, my phone number, names of localities, utility companies, the builder, the lawyer, all the street names involved in directions to the new house (which wasn't easy, because it seems like every place and street name around here is some combination of "wood", "bridge", "cliff", "water", "beach", "port", and "concourse", all mixed up in various unimaginative combinations).

I was so amazed at how easily names came to mind. I wondered if it had something to do with the water or something.

It's gone.

Suddenly now, I can't even remember conversations. Daughter will swear she told me something or other, and I have no memory whatsoever of the conversation. I'm having difficulty putting together street names, including my own. I just go blank. I have a sticky right now on the desk shelf right in front of my face, the word "CUMBERLAND" very carefully printed in capital letters, which means that it was important that I not mistake or misspell it --- and I have no memory of having stuck it up there, or what it means.

The toilet is the really scary one.

I always close the toilet lid before flushing it. I never leave the toilet open (a lifetime of kittens and puppies). Never ever. And I have a rather distinctive way of folding the toilet paper for use. And I always flush immediately upon standing. These are ingrained lifetime habits.

Twice in the past week (this morning was the second) when I got up in the morning, I've found the toilet lid up, and piddle in there. I'm pretty sure it's mine because of the way the paper is folded, but I have no memory of having used the toilet during the night.

Have I started sleepwalking? Or just forgetting?

After the past few months of being so sharp, this is downright scary.

The only thing I can think of that's changed is that I am no longer taking the thyroid supplement, and the memory problems seem to have started about a week after the last pill (I don't remember for sure, heh). 'Tis a mystery.

-------------------------------------

Later: I searched for "thyroid memory". Surprise. Memory loss is a common symptom of hypothyroidism. But last Monday's blood panel says my TSH is fine, and so the doctor won't renew my prescription for the thyroid supplement. The doctor's office said they'd mail the report to me, but it hasn't arrived yet.

I dug around in purses and suitcases and located four more pills. I'll take them and see what happens. Maybe I need the tests repeated.

You know, some of the numbers were so far off what is usual for me, I'm beginning to wonder if they had the right patient....
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3164 Hair rebellion report

Monday, February 14, 2011

"95% of science fiction is crap. Come to think of it, 95% of *everything* is crap."
-- Theodore Sturgeon --

---------------------------------------------

One month and one day (4.5 weeks) into the great hair rebellion, and I think I may have to retreat, maybe just temporarily. My cut is not good. I think when it grows out a little and I can get a good cut I'll try again. The problem is that my hair is getting stronger and more ... defiant. The natural wave and curl is more definite. It lifts a lot. Most mornings I'm channeling Rod Stewart, and when I try to get it to lie down a little, the bad layering and uneveness is obvious. The shorter patches curl up more than the longer patches in what can only be described as chunks, and the hair doesn't want to blend, if you know what I mean.

Shampoo will soften it a bit, encourage it to blend.

I'd been bleaching the crown and front, because there were darker spots, and I haven't colored it in about ten weeks because now that it's short, it's a good time to find out what it really looks like. So there's an inch and a half of strong healthy unprocessed roots, and that's where all the lift is coming from. It'll behave differently when all the bleached part is cut off. That might be scary. It might go into electric socket mode. Bzzzzzzzzt! But even that could look good if it's well cut.

It should be ready for reshaping in about three weeks, so I've got that long to find a good salon (and I don't have the faintest idea how. I haven't seen a single woman down here that has anything near the style I'd like, cut the way I'd like, so there's no one to ask. In fact, I could start by asking everyone where they get their hair cut, then quietly cross those salons off the list).
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Sunday, February 13, 2011

3163 Sistine and blood

Sunday, February 13, 2011

“Unquestioned answers are more dangerous than unanswered questions.” Put another way, “Unanswered questions may be frustrating, but unquestioned answers are dangerous.”

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When you hear "Sistine Chapel", you think of the panel wherein the finger of God is reaching to Adam. And that's about all.

You can see the entire Sistine Chapel at http://www.vatican.va/various/cappelle/sistina_vr/index.html, a Vatican website. Wow!

It's a bit difficult to navigate at first. The controls are down in the lower left corner, but they don't explain what the cursor controls get you. You have to play with it a bit. Moving around isn't intuitive. It took me a half hour to get the snake and the apple right-side-up.

The painting around the sides seem to come from a much later date. They have a more Flemish look.

See if you can find the copyright mark on the floor.

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I don't know about Michelangelo, folks. His men all look like overblown bodybuilders, and his women look like male bodybuilders with globes glued to their chests. Don't real (natural) breasts kind of slope out from the collar bones? Does anyone have creases above as well as below? Even the babies are overdeveloped.

Yeah, I know people, including women, did more physical labor then, and were likely well muscled, but women sans steroids just don't get the same structure as men. That much definition requires more testosterone. Women's layer of fat under the skin softens the "cut". Also, the average woman was probably perpetually either pregnant or nursing, but that still doesn't explain those breasts.

I saw the real Pieta once. My first reaction* was that Mary was HUGE! If Jesus had been standing, he'd have been half her height, and maybe a quarter her weight. (*Well, second reaction. The first was, "That's one honkin' huge hunk of marble!")

It all makes me wonder if maybe old Mikey had some issue with women.

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Daughter and I got into a discussion of infectious waste (that which carries pathogens, as opposed to hazardous waste which is poisonous or otherwise harmful but not necessarily infectious) the other day, while she was waiting out her three-hour glucose test at the vampire's office, when I saw someone drop a blood-spotted bandaid in the waste paper basket.

She said it wasn't enough blood to be considered infectious. She does therapeutic massage in an acupuncture office, and she often works on people right after their acupuncture session. She says they sometimes are covered with little spots of blood. She does the massage with her bare hands.

I was horrified! Viruses are tiny, all it takes is ONE, just ONE, to infect you with hepatitis, HIV/AIDS, whatever, and a single speck of blood can carry a zillion of the hungry little bastards. All it takes is one! How can ANY amount of blood not be considered potentially infectious!

When I was riding the ambulance, we were serious about it. Even a speck went into the red box.

I don't understand.

When I got home I looked up the rules/laws, and yeah, infectious waste requiring special handling is defined as "pourable or drippable amounts of blood or body fluids, or items saturated with blood or body fluids". Saturated being defined as capable of dripping if squeezed.

They have to be kidding me. That makes no sense. All it takes is one viral body, and you don't need to be able to pour it to get that.

I am horrified. I wonder why they bother having any rule at all.

(Oh, yeah. Reading further, the answer is money, of course. Regular waste costs x to dispose of. Non-infectious medical waste costs 3x for disposal. Infectious waste costs 15x for disposal. So the definition is to limit costs while looking like you're making some attempt at controlling infection and protecting other patients and medical workers.)
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3162 Health Insurance then and now

Sunday, February 13, 2011

“The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose
was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.”
-- Dalí --

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An observation on the deterioration of health insurance: Back in the late '60s and early '70s, if my doctor prescribed aspirin, my insurance paid for it. Same with any OTC meds and supplements. There were NO copays or deductibles. No premiums other than what the employer paid. Once when I was hospitalized, in 1970, I was covered by two insurance plans - my employer's and Ex#1's employer's - and both paid in full. I was worried that it was a mistake, but both companies said no, that it was ok, and if I had money left over I could keep it. "If it makes you feel better, use it for costs associated with time off work, pet care, bed jackets to wear in the hospital, whatever."

In the '80s, Daughter was covered under my policy with The Company, and under her father's (Ex#2's) policy, also with The Company. Although by then coverage had been reduced (we had copays and deductibles, and no double payments), because she was covered under both, one policy covered the copays and deductibles on the other, so she was covered 100%.

Compare that to now.

--------------------------------

Something else to compare then to now: Under those health plans, for everything except hospital charges, you had to pay the bills and submit the receipts for payment. Ex#2 and I were divorced, and I had full custody. I took Daughter to the doctor, paid all the bills, filled out the forms, and submitted the receipts to my plan, with Ex#2's plan as secondary payer.

The Company cut the checks, and sent them to him! Not me! And he, of course, never notified me that he'd received any checks. He cashed or deposited them without a blink, without a word to me. Since all the paperwork from The Company went to him, too, I had no idea that payment had been made, or for how much. I had to call Human Resources and ask. And that SOB often claimed he'd never received the checks (not out of meanness - he'd just "forget", and he was a tightwad and didn't want to give me any money).

I was furious with The Company. They said it was company policy to send checks to the father, regardless of court dispositions, regardless of who paid the bills and submitted the claims. It took me more than a year and the threat of a sexual discrimination suit to get them to change the policy, and even then the policy applied only to me, and only because I was also a Company employee. I wondered how many other non-employee women weren't getting their checks and had no recourse, had to beg their exes for the insurance checks.

Compare that to now.

People now seem to think calling a woman a feminist is some kind of insult. They don't know what it was once like, and how hard it was to change the rules.
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3261 Thoughts on Egypt 2

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Every great idea I have gets me in trouble.

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If you're watching "Sunday Morning", they're saying pretty much the same thing I said in the previous post.
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Saturday, February 12, 2011

3260 Thoughts on Egypt

Saturday, February 12, 2011

I tried to be good, but I got bored.

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They're nowhere near finished yet.

I've been reading internet reports, and listening to talk and news radio, and there seem to be conflicting opinions on the relationship between the protesters and the military. Some commentators think the military is with the protesters, holding the same opinions as the protesters. Others see something more sinister going on.

I'm with the latter camp. I'm worried.

Mubarak gained control through a military coup. The country has a constitution and legislature, and all that, but has been under "emergency", i.e. martial, law for the past 30 years. Mubarak had been able to maintain control all that time through the support of the military commanders, the top brass, with whom he has been sharing the largess, and who actually run the country. They've been very well paid to stay loyal. (The rank and file soldiers did not share in the booty, so they were not as supportive of Mubarak, and that's why they were liked and appreciated by the protesters.)

However, I think there was more going on than shows on the surface. I think the top military commanders decided that protests served their own purposes. Mubarak was starting to loosen some of the military's grip on the country. No military man would like that. And if they could get rid of Mubarak, that eliminates one major level in the distribution of booty. Yummy. More for themselves.

They're still in charge. They are now running the show. I do not for one second believe that they will give up power from some burst of social conscience or respect for the constitution or fear of another protest display.

The second thing that worries me is that the protesters wanted Mubarak gone immediately, because having started the protests, the organizers were now in mortal danger. If Mubarak were allowed to hang around until September, that would give him time to run a (mis)information campaign, and to "mysteriously disappear" all the organizers, so that when the September elections had him win by a huge margin, even as a write-in, those with the courage to protest would be all gone, and the rest would be too afraid. The organizers and anyone else with a known name or face would be dead men walking as soon as the square emptied.

So, Mubarak is gone immediately. But persons who perhaps want to assume Mubarak's power are not only still there, they are in charge of everything. They had their own reasons for getting rid of him. And if they want to ensure that the election goes the way they want, and that no one objects publicly, organizers might start disappearing. All it will take is a few "accidents" befalling second-level organizers to get the message across. And the next set of protests might not be met with such a blasé attitude from the military.

Egypt still has some storms to weather.
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3259 Can't let go of twist ties

Saturday, February 12, 2011

If you don’t know who the “mark” is at the table, it’s you.

--------------------------------------------

Sometimes I just can't let go of old annoyances. I wish I could. I wish I could find the magic key to make them go away.

I just got some walnuts out of the bag in the refrigerator. When I put the bag back, I twisted the tie once holding the bag, then flipped the bag to put a second twist in, and that was it. It was one of those very long ties reused off some other bag.

As I put the bag back, I felt an immediate flash of annoyance at Ex#2.

He used to twist the ties all the way out to the end! It didn't matter how long the twist tie was, he twisted it all the way! I'd get extremely annoyed when I had to untwist forty thousand times just to get a slice of bread. I explained over and over to him that two twists were sufficient to keep a tie tight. It made no difference to him. Next time, he'd twist all the way to the end again.

I can't seem to let go of it.

The trigger for my flash of annoyance at him was the twist tie, but I suspect the real problem was that he ignored what I said, what I asked of him. My words had no weight with him, and the twist tie was just an example of that.

I'm tired of having those flashes.

A psychologist might say that I am still annoyed at him because I am still feeling ignored in my current life, but that I can't put it on the current source, so I'm putting it on him. But I'm not sure that's true, because all the flashes that went back to Ex#1 stopped as soon as I discovered he died a while ago. He died, and things stopped triggering annoyance at him. All the triggers stopped being triggers. So maybe if Ex#2 died, I'd stop being annoyed at him over the twist ties.

Maybe what I'm really looking for is an apology. Or validation. Maybe what I really want is for Ex#2 to say to me, "You know, you were right about the twist ties." (Or any of a hundred other things....) But I know he's still twisting the damn things forty thousand times, and that's incredibly annoying.
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3258 Despair

Saturday, February 12, 2011

T-shirt: “If I’m mean it’s because you’re stupid.”

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I am very discouraged. if anyone should be aware of the power of words and the importance of using the correct word, it's journalists. I can be forgiven errors. Journalists cannot.

I read the following statement in a "U.S. News & World Reports" article credited to Rick Newman, about Mubarak's wealth:
Other Mubarak funds are reportedly sitting in British banks, and Mubarak was no doubt wily enough to squire away some cash in unlikely places.

I read that and my brain froze. The mental picture didn't work. "Squire"? Did he really escort the money to the unlikely places? Perhaps he also gave it a corsage? Or maybe he carried the money's shield? Perhaps the word should be "squirrel"? He squirreled the money away? (Mental picture is now one of a squirrel burying nuts. Yeah. That works.)

I guess Mr. Newman has heard the expression, misheard the word, and used what he thought the expression was without wondering where it came from or what it meant.

I've almost given up reading comments on articles. The average "U.S. News & World Reports" reader isn't exactly in the same league as "Wall Street Journal" readers, but should be at least a few notches above tabloid readers. But the comments on this article had me searching the pantry for peanut butter cups.
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Friday, February 11, 2011

3257 Things I found out today

Friday, February 11, 2011

“Talent hits a target no one else can hit. Genius hits a target no one else can see."
-- Arthur Schopenhauer --

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The only things my warranty/service contract on Hal doesn't cover is windshield wipers and tires. Today I found out what a BMW tire for Hal costs. $407. That's for ONE tire. Plus more for labor.

Driving back from the old house on Monday night I hit a deep New Jersey pothole. You can't see the fool things at night. Wednesday, Hal started complaining that his passenger side tire was low. Thursday I took him to the BMW dealership. Today they told me the bad news. The tire had developed an irreparable "blister", whatever that is. I needed a new tire.

$407 dollars worth of tire.

--------------------------------

Remember the mouse that had taken up residence in Hal? I asked the service guys to check and see what other damage the mouse may have done, and to please explain how he got in in the first place. The bits of chewed up paper in the trunk, the passenger cabin, and the glove compartment! meant he'd had access to the entire car.

They found that he'd chewed through the microfilter, which gave him access to the ventilation system. I needed a new filter.

I wonder if my insurance would consider a mouse a vandal?

--------------------------------

You know all those dead birds turning up all over the country? Turns out the USDA, and others licensed by the USDA, are killing them. They kill millions of birds every year, and have been doing so since the early '60s, to protect grain put out for cattle feed.

Search "dead birds USDA", and you'll get lots of hits, most of which contradict each other. Like, the USDA says they are responsible for only one killoff in the mid-west, but in another article they also take credit for a mass kill near my old house. And they have no idea how many kills are from those licensed folks, or from farmers just doing it themselves. Nobody's counting those dead birds.

The attitudes of the farmers and of the USDA are rather cavalier. Farmers: "They're just birds." USDA: "They're starlings. European starlings are a pest, and they're not native, they're invasive."

Um, they're also killing red-winged blackbirds by the millions, too, and they are definitely native. Whether the birds are native or not has nothing to do with it. They're poisoning any birds that feed in flocks, which are often varieties of blackbirds (red-wings, crackles, cowbirds, starlings).

How has this been going on for 50+ years, but we knew nothing of it? Can't farmers do something else to protect the grain they put out for dairy cows, like, oh, cats or dogs? Or covered feeding? Do those birds really have no other value? They do eat bugs, too, you know. How many carnivores have been starved out by these killoffs?

Next time you get bitten by a mosquito, or lose your tomatoes to Japanese beetles or your kitten to a hawk, blame the USDA.

General info: http://www.csmonitor.com/USA/Society/2011/0120/Bye-Bye-Blackbird-USDA-acknowledges-a-hand-in-one-mass-bird-death

The kill near my old house: http://www.dailyfreeman.com/articles/2011/02/10/news/doc4d54707f4a02d656011346.txt?viewmode=fullstory

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On his 74th birthday, a man got a gift certificate from his wife. The certificate paid for a visit to a medicine man living on a nearby reservation who was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction.

After being persuaded, he drove to the reservation, handed his ticket to the medicine man. The medicine man slowly, methodically, produced a potion, handed it to him, and with a grip on his shoulder, warned, 'This is powerful medicine. It must be respected. You take only teaspoonful, and then say '1-2-3.' When you do that, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you can perform as long as you want."

The old man was encouraged. As he walked away, he turned and asked, "How do I stop the medicine from working?"

"Your partner must say '1-2-3-4,'" he responded, "but when she does, the medicine will not work again until next full moon."

The old man was very eager to see if it worked so he went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom. When she came in, he took off his clothes and said, "1-2-3!"

Immediately, he was the manliest of men.

His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes, and then she asked, "What was the 1-2-3 for?"

And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition, because we could end up with a dangling participle.
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Wednesday, February 09, 2011

3256 Its time

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

A ship is safe in port, but that’s not what ships are made for.
-- Admiral Grace Hopper --

______________________________________

I get annoyed when people say things like, "Jazz was the top music of its time", referring to The Jazz Era.

Duh. Anything is the top whatsis of its time. Otherwise it wouldn't have been its time, right?

(I am the most famous femme fatale of my time. My time just hasn't arrived yet.)
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3255 Tests - Medical and Turing

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

"When you are a minority voice, you begin to doubt your own competencies."
-- Catherine Orenstein, on the fact that only 13% of Wikipedia's contributors are female --

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I got a call from the doctor's office. The blood and urine results are back.
  • I do have a UTI, and they'll phone a prescription to my local CVS.
  • Glucose was 100 mg/dL, but since I was not fasting, that's ok, I guess.
  • Vitamin D was low, so I'm to add a D supplement, twice a day.
  • Total cholesterol was a bit high, so I'm to add flax seed oil. (but the ratio is low - in the very good range. The medical community differs on what that means, but it's been like that with me for ages, so I figure it must be ok. Besides, I don't know how I can possibly cut any more fats from my diet.) I was taking flax seed oil for a while, back when, but it makes me burp. Oh, well. I'll try again.
  • Triglyceride is 99.
  • And the real shocker - thyroid stimulating hormone is normal. Huh?
Sigh.

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I was reading an essay on the Turing test (http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/1969/12/mind-vs-machine/8386/3/). That's the dealy where a tester converses with a human and/or with a computer, and attempts to determine whether what he's conversing with is human or machine. The author participated in a test, and began to wonder what makes someone recognizably human.

An interesting observation was in the area of arguments. Humans, when arguing, tend to devolve into verbal abuse, and to begin simply reacting to the last statement, without regard to the full context of the argument, ignoring previous statements.

That kicked off thoughts. I hate arguing with people, precisely because with most people, that happens. They want to turn it into a sniping match, and I just won't do that. For that reason - that I keep going back to the initial disagreement, and ignore and won't react to sniping - they seem to feel that I don't argue fairly. I don't get it.

Think about the last argument you've had. Did you get off track, and just snipe?

To quote from the essay:
...argument is stateless—that is, unanchored from all context, a kind of Markov chain of riposte, meta-riposte, meta-meta-riposte. Each remark after the first is only about the previous remark. If a program can induce us to sink to this level, of course it can pass the Turing Test.

Once again, the question of what types of human behavior computers can imitate shines light on how we conduct our own, human lives. Verbal abuse is simply less complex than other forms of conversation. In fact, since reading the papers on MGonz, and transcripts of its conversations, I find myself much more able to constructively manage heated conversations. Aware of the stateless, knee-jerk character of the terse remark I want to blurt out, I recognize that that remark has far more to do with a reflex reaction to the very last sentence of the conversation than with either the issue at hand or the person I’m talking to. All of a sudden, the absurdity and ridiculousness of this kind of escalation become quantitatively clear, and, contemptuously unwilling to act like a bot, I steer myself toward a more “stateful” response: better living through science.
A slimmed-down version of the "most human" computer winner of 2010 is online, and you can chat with "him" at http://www.cleverbot.com/. I've had a few conversations, and very often felt like I was talking to a human. Warning - Cleverbot can get a bit naughty.

From the Cleverbot site:
A special version of the Cleverbot application has won the BCS Machine Intelligence Competition 2010, after taking part in a quick-fire Turing Test.

Cleverbot was running with notably more power behind it than is possible for the online version, with 24 separate instances conferring on their answer.

10 volunteers talked for 2 minutes each using a plain text interface, and the whole of the event audience voted on 'how human' each conversation appeared to be.

Cleverbot achieved an average rating of 42.1% human!

I believe that means 42.1% of the testers thought Cleverbot was human (as opposed to the real human competing against Cleverbot), and that means it actually passed the Turing test.
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Tuesday, February 08, 2011

3254 Short trip north

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

We kill people who kill people to show that killing people is wrong.

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I used to watch Antiques Roadshow a lot. Now I catch it occasionally, accidentally. I think the British version is more interesting. I noticed a telling difference between the "tone" of the American and the British versions: the American appraisers tell the people what they could get for the item if they sold it; the British appraisers tell the people what they'd have to pay to buy a replacement, therefore what they should insure it for.

Actually, that's a cultural difference. It's a subtle difference in the way we define value.

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The only prescription I take is Synthroid, 50 MCG. Under my prescription plan, I have to get them through the mail. I get a three-month prescription with three refills. When I get down to the last 10 pills, I go online and tell MedCo to send the next three-month batch.

Early last month, I went to the website to order more, and discovered there were no more refills. I need a new prescription.

I don't have a doctor here yet.

So I called my old doctor and asked if they could please send me one month's prescription, and that would give me time to find a doctor here.

No go.

She said I hadn't had a physical exam in two years, and I'd have to come in. Period.

I was a little confused, because I remember a LOT of blood drawn last year about this time, lots of visits, but she said yes, but that didn't include a physical. The next appointment I could get was February 7th. That meant no Synthroid for at least three to four weeks. My other choice would be to attempt to find a doctor here who is not only taking new patients, but would accept a new Medicare patient, and then I'd still have to get a physical and wait for the TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) blood level results, blah blah.

So, yesterday I drove the 2.5 hours north for a physical.

My appointment was at 1 PM. I got to the village at 12:25, so I stopped in to see Piper and his daughter. I figured I'd get to the doctor's office at 12:50, since I wouldn't have to fill out any papers or anything.

Surprise. Sometime in the past several months, my doctor's group merged with another group, and they have a new computer system. I had to fill out the 10 pages of "past surgeries, dates, all vitamins and supplements you take, insurance numbers, emergency family members, family medical history" - all that crap detail that I don't carry around in my head and hadn't brought with me.

Hey, folks. All that stuff is in your old database, AND in that paper folder you keep looking in. Couldn't you find some nerd to write a simple program to transfer data from the old to the new database? Couldn't youse guys input from the paper folder when you knew I was coming? At the very least, will you let me look at the paper folder, and just copy the crap onto this new form, instead of wracking my brain trying to remember?

No, no, and no.

I've got strong pulses in my hands and feet, good reflexes, nothing weird about my skin (except that it doesn't fit very well any more), no chest noise, no lumpiness anywhere, etc., got a PAP, and paper to take somewhere (where?) for a bone density scan and a mammogram. Blood was taken for I don't know what besides the TSH level, and they gave me a prescription for another year's Synthroid. I mentioned that my morning urine has been smelling very bad, so they're going to culture it. Pending the blood, urine, PAP, bone density, and mammogram results, I was declared in marvelous condition for such a decrepit old bat.

Then I went to the old house. I had the little BMW, not the van, because freezing rain was predicted for overnight, so I couldn't bring much back, but I picked up a few things I had been missing, like more dishes, my moisturizer which I haven't been able to find around here, measuring cups, some books, etc. I turned the well pump off, just in case. And I set some mouse traps. That may have been a mistake. If I don't get back there soon, everything might smell of dead mouse. Well, that's not an odor I haven't dealt with before.

Then I went back to Piper's office to finish the earlier conversations. They had a meeting at 4:30, so I left at 4:15, and that's when I realized that if I headed south then, I'd be getting to The Oranges at about 5:45 - a very bad time, traffic-wise. So I decided to go to the diner for something to eat.

I hadn't ordered yet when my phone rang. It was The Hairless Hunk. He said he'd seen a little black convertible go by, and figured it had to be me. "Who else but you would drive a beautiful little car like that on this sloppy salty road?" The phone conversation was getting long, and I was uncomfortable talking in the diner, so I invited him to the diner for coffee.

As usual, we talked. And talked. I don't know if he's starved for conversation, or if he's always like that. It's amazing how much time we can talk, and never seem to run out of topics. We were still at the table three and a half hours later. Yeah, I kind of miss him. I don't want anything beyond a mild flirtation, but I really do like talking with him. Plus, he's pretty. Plus it's a boost to my ego to know that he finds me .... interesting. My daughter finds me boring.

It did rain on the drive back south, but it didn't freeze.

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When I was standing at the window in the doctor's office, a woman was talking to the other receptionist, and was annoyed to discover that her 1 o'clock appointment was at the other office, not this office. The two offices are about 5 miles apart. The receptionist said, "Well, if you just go there, you'll be only 5 minutes late. They won't mind." The woman snapped, "Oh, I don't care about their time. It's MY gas!"

I'm sorry, but I couldn't help saying to my receptionist, "I just drove 2 and a half hours for this appointment, and all I want is a refill of my prescription."

I'm unsympathetic.

Mainly because I don't believe their insistence on my coming in was for my health. I suspect they held my prescription hostage for their bottom line.
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Sunday, February 06, 2011

3253 A political observation

Sunday, February 6, 2011

"Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal."
-- Albert Camus --

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From Asecular.com, on March 22, 2010. I find it interestingly prophetic.

Another striking thing about this Obamacare story is what it says about the difference between Republicans and Democrats when it comes to the wielding of power. This is an oversimplification I know, but the basic difference is that Democrats believe in the value of government and campaign so that they can win elections and then do things to improve government and run it competently. Republicans, on the other hand, don't believe government has any value and so campaign so that they can win elections so they can do the things necessary to win more elections and consolidate their power. This was summed up nicely in Gingerich's remarks about health care just before it passed in the House, "[If Democrats pass health reform,] they will have destroyed their party much as Lyndon Johnson shattered the Democratic Party for 40 years [by pushing civil rights legislation]." Not only was he saying that Democrats had just done a foolish thing by passing a bill that hadn't been polling well, but he was also implying that their passing the Civil Rights Act had been foolish because it hadn't been in the service of holding onto power. These guys are all completely Machiavellian, and it's great that we have days such as today when their masks are ripped off and we are shown, to be frank, how evil they are.
This was brought to mind yesterday by all the Regan-worship going on now. His record has been whitewashed. I was there. I remember. And Field remembers, too. Read http://field-negro.blogspot.com/2011/02/glossing-over-history-for-gipper.html

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Some things kinda neat, but not covered in the news reports from Egypt:

You know how praying Muslims form lines and blocks? We see them praying in the square in Cairo in news reports and photos. What we haven't seen is that during prayer times, Christians, non-Muslims, and others have been forming shoulder to shoulder protective rings facing outward around the ones praying.

Also, shoulder to shoulder protective lines are circling the museums.

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When I saw "The King's Speech", it didn't occur to me then, but later I realized, "Hey, the wife was the Queen Mother! Wow!" I was once about five feet from her. The real Queen Mother, I mean. Not the actress.
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3252 Repeating an old post

Sunday, February 5, 2011

A relationship is about give and take. Love is all about giving.

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This post is originally from Sunday, August 7, 2005

#320 Musings on the Paranormal

All those who believe in psychokinesis raise my hand.

James Randi is out to debunk all claims of paranormal abilities. The James Randi Educational Foundation offers a one million dollar prize to anyone who can prove that they have such abilities, and can demonstrate them in a two tier test designed and administered by the foundation. They claim that "To date, no one has ever passed the preliminary tests." Details at http://www.randi.org/research/index.html.

Some of my friends are gloating that the most recent candidate (http://forums.randi.org/showthread.php?s=cfaca0798a4edde39e260ba54d327aa0&threadid=46657) failed miserably, having performed at even less than what random probabilities would predict (which is not an accurate statement, because given the design of the test, there could be no prediction, but anyway....) Results are at http://www.randi.org/documents/AchauNguyenTest.html. I'm not surprised either, but not because such abilities cannot possibly exist. I'm not surprised because of the conditions of the test, and because, well, the test subject may have been a bit deluded.

In my opinion, there are four classes when it comes to paranormal phenomena:
1.) Disbelievers of the "I have an open mind, I'll believe it when I see it" persuasion.
2.) Disbelievers who reject even the possibility, and who wouldn't believe it even if they did see it.
3.) Believers who are whacked out weirdoes who will believe anything they want to believe.
4.) Believers who are so because they have experienced it for themselves.

At the risk of ridicule, I will state that I am frankly and firmly in the fourth group. That doesn't mean I will believe any claim that comes down the pike. But I do believe there is more out there than we know right now. Call it another dimension if you like. Fairies. Whatever.

I have experienced very detailed precognitive repeating dreams that scared me. It happened. I experienced it, and yes, I did tell people about the dreams, and when they then came true, right down to the details, the precognitive aspect was independently verified.

On many occasions, I have experienced the disembodied voice in my head that told me something I could not have known otherwise, and I did in fact mention it to others, and it was verified. One example of what I mean: We had adopted a beautiful pregnant little Russian Blue. I was holding her on my lap one day, and I said to Ex#2, "I wonder how many kittens she's going to have?" and the phrase "Three and two" popped into my head, in a voice different from my normal "thinking voice".
I repeated it aloud: "Three and two."
Ex#2 looked up and said, "What?"
Me: "Three and two. It just popped into my head."
He: "What does that mean?"
Me: "I don't know. I think it has to do with Suzy's kittens." A few weeks later, Suzy gave birth to three female and two male kittens. Ex#2 was a little bit afraid of me because of stuff like that.

I scared Jay's father one time by slowing down before a curve on a hill one night, and creeping around the curve. When I slowed down, he asked "Why are you stopping?", and as we crept around the curve, a herd of about 20 deer came down the hill and crossed the road. It was not a deer crossing zone. He looked at me in shock and said "How did you know?" I always know when there are deer in my path. I also always know when there is a patrol car hidden nearby, long before I see it. (Ex#1 found that very useful. He was too stupid to be afraid of it.)

I've had a three-year-old tell me detailed stories of a prior life in another culture, in a very much older voice, using terms that were not a part of her vocabulary. All the descriptions, the terrain, the animals, the clothing, the food, the family relationships, the homes, the customs, all, all fitted together. She described daily items like a clay beehive oven, far removed from her three-year-old experience. She referred to her "Before-Mommy". ("Before mommy?" "Yeah. My mommy before you.") She described her previous death from pneumonia at age 12. All this from a child at an age where what exists in the now is and was and shall ever be as it is.

Lots more.

So yeah, put me firmly in group four. Although I have no command of it. And as I get older, it happens less and less. I think life has closed my mind more and more. It's harder to be open.

I'm not surprised that the candidate failed the test, even if I assume he's not in group three, because Randi's Foundation is frankly negative. They make it clear from the start that the test will be adversarial. The observers/judges start out negative. Even if the ability exists, and even if it can be done on command, I suspect negative energy interferes, and the foundation is relentlessly negative. So I don't think the foundation is proving anything (even though it is impossible to prove a negative anyway) because it's not a fair test. Everything about it conspires to ensure failure.

As an example, I can debunk your claim that you can start a fire with kindling, flint, and steel. You just have to play by my rules. The test will be conducted out of doors, with no cover, in a driving windy rainstorm, using the wet kindling at hand. That's pretty much what the foundation does to their candidates. They rain negativity.

(Plus that I suspect most of the candidates are nuts, but that's beside the point.)

There are those who will believe only what they see, and those who will see only what they believe. The potential for reward is far greater if we are neither.

~~Silk

Saturday, February 05, 2011

3251 Free clothes, unfettered police, and a semi-HOTW

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.
-- George Bernard Shaw --

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A few weeks ago I mentioned how I had used a sale, a preferred customer discount, and earned coupons to get a jacket, sweater, jeans, and slacks, over $200 retail, from my favorite online boutique for just $9, the shipping cost.

Today I got an envelope in the mail. They have promoted me to "Elite customer". I still get the purchase points toward coupons and all the other goodies, but now I also get an automatic additional 5% off all purchases (no minimum, applies to the outlet, too, and can be used with other discounts and coupons), and free shipping on all purchases.

That last "purchase" would have been not only free, but they'd have owed me money!

Really, people. I buy only from the outlet and never pay more than 20% of their original retail price. I have a Visa card through them, and I get points toward coupons no matter what I use that card for. Pretty soon, they'll be just sending me free clothes.

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This is weird. At least three states, Illinois, Massachusetts, and Oregon, have passed eavesdropping laws that make it a crime to audio-record a conversation without the consent of all parties involved. You can go to jail for doing it.

As a contrast, in New York and a few other states, for example, only one party to the recording has to be aware, which means you can record an interaction you are having with someone, but you cannot tape/film/record something happening between other unaware people. The big difference, however, is that although the "illegal" recording cannot be used in court, you won't go to jail for doing it.

Here's what it means (from the Switched story at the link): "In Chicago, the law is drawing significant attention because, there, recording interactions with law enforcement officials constitutes a class one felony that can carry a sentence of up to 15 years in jail, even if the conversation happens in public. The New York Times has reported on two cases that are due to go before a judge this spring, and could result in serious jail time." (Recording someone other than law enforcement officials is a lesser felony and can get you no more than five years. They're serious about protecting police, prosecutors, and so on.)

The ACLU has brought federal suits challenging the law, but the suits have been dismissed by Illinois judges.

From the NY Times article, "Mark Donahue, president of the Fraternal Order of Police, said his organization “absolutely supports” the eavesdropping act as is and was relieved that the challenge had failed. Mr. Donahue added that allowing the audio recording of police officers while performing their duty “can affect how an officer does his job on the street.”"

No shit. Is he really saying that the police would be hindered by allowing people to see/hear what they do/say in their interactions with the public? I could spend 15 years in jail for recording an officer attempting to coerce sexual favors from me during a traffic stop, even if the recording proves his guilt? Am I the only person frightened by the suppressive effects of that law, and by Mr. Donahue's implication?

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DeSean Jackson sure is pretty. I'd feel like a child molester if I made him Honey of the Week, but I do like looking at him. Such pretty eyes, cheekbones, smile, arms. And he's not big and bulky like most of his teammates. He's smooth and tight. If he were twenty years older, he'd definitely be a HOTW. Click on the link for the pix.
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