Am I alone in thinking the writers dropped the ball here on last nights Lost episode?
I have to say I was disappointed with the real reason behind Kate being a wanted woman. The conversation with her father was bizarre - he didn't tell Kate Wayne was her real father because he knew she would kill him? Wait a sec.......He knew when Kate was born.......They didn't divorce until Kate was like 4 or 5...WTF? Like a 5 year old would kill her real father just because she doesn't want to be like him?
What's up with that? They missed the mark and gave us a pretty lame ass excuse, IMHO.
The rest of the ep was good - loved the oh so Hurleyesque "So Rose's husband is white... Didn't see that coming."
My fav line was Mr. Eko to Locke "Don't mistake coincidence for fate", especially after he told that elaborate story before giving Locke the film! I look forward to more Mr. Eko/Locke interaction.
Now we have to wait till fucking January to see what happens next????? That's wrong on so many levels.
Oh well, it looks like my Wednesday nights will be free for Christmas shopping....
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
The Eyes Have it
| Your Eyes Should Be Brown |
 Your eyes reflect: Depth and wisdom What's hidden behind your eyes: A tender heart |
They should be brown.............but they aren't.
They're green.
Besides, I always thought if you had brown eyes you were full of shit. That's an old joke people. I don't want to offend any brown eyed souls out there.
| Your Eyes Should Be Green |
 Your eyes reflect: Striking attractiveness and danger What's hidden behind your eyes: A vivid inner world |
Hmmmmmm, there's some food for thought.
Mixed Feelings
Thanksgiving was tough. First one without my Grandfather.
It was tough to look at my Grandmother. She was fine, cracking jokes and talking with food in her mouth, as usual. But I had to go to the bathroom and blow the snot faucet several times and wipe away the tears. I think I caught my Dad's eyes filling a couple times too. He was the only one that mentioned Papa a couple times in the conversation.
I wanted to say something poignant about Papa, remember him on this day. But, I didn't, I couldn't, at least not out loud.
We always celebrate my Dad's birthday on Thanksgiving (it's actually the 27th)He turned 60 this year. My Dad, 60. Doesn't seem possible.
The food was wonderful, delicious. It was worth fasting for 24 hours for. Worthy of the nap afterwards.
Thanksgiving just isn't the same anymore, not because my Grandfather is gone, but because the whole family cannot be together anymore. There are circumstances that prevent this, that I cannot go into. Two Thanksgivings now.
I don't know which is harder, staying home with my son and missing the family, or being there, knowing that the whole family isn't. I hate the holidays.
It was tough to look at my Grandmother. She was fine, cracking jokes and talking with food in her mouth, as usual. But I had to go to the bathroom and blow the snot faucet several times and wipe away the tears. I think I caught my Dad's eyes filling a couple times too. He was the only one that mentioned Papa a couple times in the conversation.
I wanted to say something poignant about Papa, remember him on this day. But, I didn't, I couldn't, at least not out loud.
We always celebrate my Dad's birthday on Thanksgiving (it's actually the 27th)He turned 60 this year. My Dad, 60. Doesn't seem possible.
The food was wonderful, delicious. It was worth fasting for 24 hours for. Worthy of the nap afterwards.
Thanksgiving just isn't the same anymore, not because my Grandfather is gone, but because the whole family cannot be together anymore. There are circumstances that prevent this, that I cannot go into. Two Thanksgivings now.
I don't know which is harder, staying home with my son and missing the family, or being there, knowing that the whole family isn't. I hate the holidays.
Friday, November 18, 2005
It's that time again
TGIF
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
Jump to: navigation, search
TGIF is the abbreviation for the phrase Thank God (or Goodness) It's Friday. Commonly used in American conversation, it has become a common element for advertising and promotional materials, to connote a sense of partying and the weekend.
It's too bad that my idea nowadays of partying is having a cocktail and putting on my PJ's early....................with my big fuzzy slippers of course.
I'm such a badass.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
Jump to: navigation, search
TGIF is the abbreviation for the phrase Thank God (or Goodness) It's Friday. Commonly used in American conversation, it has become a common element for advertising and promotional materials, to connote a sense of partying and the weekend.
It's too bad that my idea nowadays of partying is having a cocktail and putting on my PJ's early....................with my big fuzzy slippers of course.
I'm such a badass.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Stolen from KFarmer & the Dells blog, who stole it from Lecram Sinun's blog who stole it from Addict's blog.
Damn! Gonna have to work on that tough chick image.
No wonder the kid doesn't listen to me.
| Your Hidden Talent |
 You're super sensitive and easily able to understand situations. You tend to solve complex problems in a flash, without needing a lot of facts. Decision making is easy for you. You have killer intuition. The right path is always clear, and you're a bit of a visionary. |
Damn! Gonna have to work on that tough chick image.
| You Are Not Scary |
 Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet? |
No wonder the kid doesn't listen to me.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Heard in the living room last night
"You shouldn't let the dog on the couch. She's going to ruin it."
"Have ya looked at the couch?! Besides, where do you think all the grease & dirt stains already on the couch came from? That's right, from your greasy work clothes. Julietta has spent her entire life in a cage, only being let out to pee & poop or race. She's earned the right to sleep wherever she wants. Besides, it's my couch. Now, go to your room!"
Kids.
"Have ya looked at the couch?! Besides, where do you think all the grease & dirt stains already on the couch came from? That's right, from your greasy work clothes. Julietta has spent her entire life in a cage, only being let out to pee & poop or race. She's earned the right to sleep wherever she wants. Besides, it's my couch. Now, go to your room!"
Kids.
Monday, November 07, 2005
They're Coming to Take Me Away Ha-haaa!
I know, I know - I've been MIA for a bit. I could give you all kinds of excuses about being busy and such, but that's not why. Let me explain....
People have asked me, "How do you do it?". Married couples cannot fathom ever doing it alone. I simply answer: "You do what ya gotta do". Just like every parent.
It can, at times, be easier being a single parent. As Stallone so aptly put it, "I am da law". What I say goes. There is no playing one parent against the other, no disagreements on discipline. No power struggles. The drawback to that is - you don't get a break. You are it, 24/7. There is no power in the words "Wait till your father gets home", cause Papa don't live here. I'm lucky that I get a break once a week. My wonderful parents take my son overnight most Thursdays for me. That's my alone time. That's the time I have to recharge my batteries, be calm and quiet. That's the time I have to regroup and get a firmer grip on my sanity. A grip I am fighting to hang on to.
Children can tire you out with their endless energy, questions and exploration, but they are easily manageable. Mom & Dad are in charge. That fact is not in question. We can protect them from danger, teach them and make them laugh.
Yes, children can tire you out, but just wait. Teenagers are exhausting.
Common sense, reason & logic are out the window. At least your common sense, reason & logic are. Everything you do as a parent becomes questionable. Every boundary, every responsibility, everything you say becomes a barrier to the life they feel entitled to. The humor and silliness that once made them laugh results in sullen looks and slamming doors. Protecting them from danger becomes a slippery slope of giving them the freedom to make their own decisions and wanting to keep them from the consequences of the wrong ones. They have, after all, forgotten everything you have taught them to this point. That, or they dismiss it as nothing more than you being overprotective or trying to baby them. They have become all knowing, invincible, immortal. They think they are masters of their own destiny. They know what's best for them. The fact that you have more than twice the life experience of them just makes you, old. You want to give them freedom to become their own person. You want them to become responsible adults. You want to kick them in the ass for being so opposed to accepting the wisdom of experience. You want scream at the top of your lungs, "Since you're so friggin smart, get out and support yourself!"
But, you don't. At least, not with meaning. There is still a thread of the umbilical that whispers the truth. The thought of leaving the safety of home is too daunting to risk. It's a thread you both hang on to. Teenagers tug at it, parents let out some slack. There comes a point where there is no slack left and the connection breaks. Then, all you can do is hope and pray they take enough of what you have given them to flourish in adulthood.
We are not there yet. But I am having one hell of a tug-o-war!
I have been too exhausted to form coherent thoughts. The creative juices have receded into the recesses of my brain like a pair of testicles in a cold pool. The mental and emotional energy necessary to get through a 24 hour period with a teenager could solve the worlds natural energy depletion, if we could harness it.
This is the dark side of being a single parent.
I am being eaten alive, one molecule at a time. I can feel it happening, but there is nothing I can do about it. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror. There is a haunting, empty look in my eyes, much like what I saw in my Grandfather near the end.
I can picture myself in a mental ward. Drool on my chin, unable to focus on anything tangible. People will look sadly upon me and ask "What happened to her?" The Doctors will reply, "TEENAGER", and all will nod sadly, knowingly, sympathetically.
People have asked me, "How do you do it?". Married couples cannot fathom ever doing it alone. I simply answer: "You do what ya gotta do". Just like every parent.
It can, at times, be easier being a single parent. As Stallone so aptly put it, "I am da law". What I say goes. There is no playing one parent against the other, no disagreements on discipline. No power struggles. The drawback to that is - you don't get a break. You are it, 24/7. There is no power in the words "Wait till your father gets home", cause Papa don't live here. I'm lucky that I get a break once a week. My wonderful parents take my son overnight most Thursdays for me. That's my alone time. That's the time I have to recharge my batteries, be calm and quiet. That's the time I have to regroup and get a firmer grip on my sanity. A grip I am fighting to hang on to.
Children can tire you out with their endless energy, questions and exploration, but they are easily manageable. Mom & Dad are in charge. That fact is not in question. We can protect them from danger, teach them and make them laugh.
Yes, children can tire you out, but just wait. Teenagers are exhausting.
Common sense, reason & logic are out the window. At least your common sense, reason & logic are. Everything you do as a parent becomes questionable. Every boundary, every responsibility, everything you say becomes a barrier to the life they feel entitled to. The humor and silliness that once made them laugh results in sullen looks and slamming doors. Protecting them from danger becomes a slippery slope of giving them the freedom to make their own decisions and wanting to keep them from the consequences of the wrong ones. They have, after all, forgotten everything you have taught them to this point. That, or they dismiss it as nothing more than you being overprotective or trying to baby them. They have become all knowing, invincible, immortal. They think they are masters of their own destiny. They know what's best for them. The fact that you have more than twice the life experience of them just makes you, old. You want to give them freedom to become their own person. You want them to become responsible adults. You want to kick them in the ass for being so opposed to accepting the wisdom of experience. You want scream at the top of your lungs, "Since you're so friggin smart, get out and support yourself!"
But, you don't. At least, not with meaning. There is still a thread of the umbilical that whispers the truth. The thought of leaving the safety of home is too daunting to risk. It's a thread you both hang on to. Teenagers tug at it, parents let out some slack. There comes a point where there is no slack left and the connection breaks. Then, all you can do is hope and pray they take enough of what you have given them to flourish in adulthood.
We are not there yet. But I am having one hell of a tug-o-war!
I have been too exhausted to form coherent thoughts. The creative juices have receded into the recesses of my brain like a pair of testicles in a cold pool. The mental and emotional energy necessary to get through a 24 hour period with a teenager could solve the worlds natural energy depletion, if we could harness it.
This is the dark side of being a single parent.
I am being eaten alive, one molecule at a time. I can feel it happening, but there is nothing I can do about it. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror. There is a haunting, empty look in my eyes, much like what I saw in my Grandfather near the end.
I can picture myself in a mental ward. Drool on my chin, unable to focus on anything tangible. People will look sadly upon me and ask "What happened to her?" The Doctors will reply, "TEENAGER", and all will nod sadly, knowingly, sympathetically.
Monday, October 17, 2005
Food for thought
| The Keys to Your Heart |
 You are attracted to good manners and elegance. In love, you feel the most alive when everything is uncertain, one moment heaven... the next moment hell. You'd like to your lover to think you are stylish and alluring. You would be forced to break up with someone who was insecure and in constant need of reassurance. Your ideal relationship is lasting. You want a relationship that looks to the future... One you can grow with. Your risk of cheating is zero. You care about society and morality. You would never break a commitment. You think of marriage as something precious. You'll treasure marriage and treat it as sacred. In this moment, you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered. |
Most of this is freakishly true, cept for the part where it says: "you think of love as something you can get or discard anytime. You're feeling self centered" Neva been that way, neva will. Maybe that's part of my problem. One thing is for certain though - once you hit your 40's, (man, the sound of that really fucking sucks. I am not that old!) your tolerance for insecurity is much lower.
Basically, it boils down to: Be good to me. I will be good to you. I will not screw you over. I want what I want. This is what I want. If you cannot deal with that, or you choose to screw me over, then bubye.
It actually took me 35 years to get up off the floor and truly learn that concept.
Human beings have been practicing this relationship thing for many thousands of years now. I want to know why we aren't better at it. Why do we still tolerate abuse & mistreatment? (I am guilty of it). Why haven't we written down the rights and wrongs of relationships? Why is it just the three "r's" and not the four: reading, writing, rythmatic & relationships?
Why is the formula for the theory of relativity more important than; the formula for raising a child to adulthood successfully or the formula for having a happy, fulfilling life & marriage?
And, why the hell don't children come with directions???
Friday, October 07, 2005
Territory Wars
I called to the cat howling in the kitchen window. There must have been an intruder in the yard she was warning off. She ran down the hall and leapt on the bed with a "reeeeoow!"
This caused Julietta to bolt upright and trot down the hall to the living room rug. I turned on the nightstand light only to be greeted by a "RUFF!" The first time she had barked since moving in with us. It was an assertive, insistent bark.
I walked down the hall to see what that was all about. She looked up at me with eyes that said "Get that thing out of our den or I'm sleeping on the couch!". It wasn't until she sniffed the entire bedroom and was convinced the unwelcome feline was gone that she settled into her crate.
Next I'll be hearing "Maaaawm! She's touching me. Am not. Yes you are! I'm not touchiiing you......"
This caused Julietta to bolt upright and trot down the hall to the living room rug. I turned on the nightstand light only to be greeted by a "RUFF!" The first time she had barked since moving in with us. It was an assertive, insistent bark.
I walked down the hall to see what that was all about. She looked up at me with eyes that said "Get that thing out of our den or I'm sleeping on the couch!". It wasn't until she sniffed the entire bedroom and was convinced the unwelcome feline was gone that she settled into her crate.
Next I'll be hearing "Maaaawm! She's touching me. Am not. Yes you are! I'm not touchiiing you......"
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Stealth Tactics
Julietta is settling in nicely and I think the pussies have resigned themselves to the fact she's staying. Neither of the cats had set foot in my bedroom where Julietta's crate is since she arrived. Until last night.
I had just climbed into bed and turned out the lights. I opened my eyes to see a silhouetted black cat slinking across the nightstand. I heard her purr as she rubbed against my cheek. She stayed for a few minutes of scratching but then retreated to the safety of the living room, after all, "that thing" was in here.
This is fine for now - it's still warm out. Warm enough to leave the windows open every night. Unseasonably warm. That will change though. We will see how long it takes before the call of body heat becomes stronger than ego.
I had just climbed into bed and turned out the lights. I opened my eyes to see a silhouetted black cat slinking across the nightstand. I heard her purr as she rubbed against my cheek. She stayed for a few minutes of scratching but then retreated to the safety of the living room, after all, "that thing" was in here.
This is fine for now - it's still warm out. Warm enough to leave the windows open every night. Unseasonably warm. That will change though. We will see how long it takes before the call of body heat becomes stronger than ego.
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