The Ocean is coming! The Ocean is coming!!!!!

Husband took me to a movie last night. We saw 'Blades of Glory.' We enjoyed it.

As usual, despite the fact that went to see a COMEDY, they still played a promo for what I call a scary movie, though not as completely supernaturally weird as usual. 'Disturbia' plays on your fears of getting thrown into the next door neighbor/serial killer's secret inner basement and tortured/killed. Not a fear of yours? Oh. Still a load of crap, and I couldn't help saying out loud, "Uh, HELLO, came here for a COMEDY!" Americans, get up, unite about something. If not about the state of our union, then the damn sniveling crap we're fed, especially as a preview. I never tire of bitching about being slammed with subservient wretched movie fodder when I just paid $10 (one person!) to go OUT to the movies. I've said it before and I'll wait for another 2 years or so to go out to my next movie to SAY IT AGAIN.

Well, there were good things. Namely, the fact that Oceans's 13 and Shrek 3 and Spidey 3 are a' comin'!!! All will be summer must sees. Don't have stills from Shrek y Spidey 3 but for those that share my splendid taste, I did capture Ocean stills, the 'good' ones off MSN a moment ago. A little premenstrual h_rniness for your viewing pleasure.

Come to my bedrooooooom...

Mmmhhmmmm...

Yessssss...

Hottie, Hot, Hot.

Yeah. There seems to be a consensus on what envelopes man suaveness. Apparently, it's George Clooney's white debonair shirt and coat. Mm!! Oh, and all the guys are back, it looks like there's even a plot (so rare with this much man candy - JK, I loved both the other films.:) and oh, you recall that one of the those guys is Brad Pitt? Yesss, and the Bourne Supremacy guy (he really is a cutie) Yeah, and I love Bernie Mac too. Nuff said.

It's coming

Been thinking on the state of affairs recently. I saw a very fascinating show with the two guys who wrote the 'Left Behind' series, and a guy named Rosenthal was on who wrote 'Epicenter.'

The name of the show was fascinating to me 'Is it the End of Days?' Now, all participants readily admitted that some people think they are flat out 'crazy' to discuss such things or to be serious about it. Since I've been deemed 'crazy' or even 'unfit' to make my own decisions (I *think* I've been reinstated at some point! you know, that's something to look into, as they make quite a big deal about taking it away but I don't recall a formal hearing to get it back! Hmmmm.... :)

Also, my religious teaching was ALL about the end of things...in the sense that these generations really are the ones to see it, usher it in, and that people need to be prepared. I don't really see anything wrong with that. I am very into the idea of emergency preparedness, if not for the fact that I haven't got my bottom in gear. But I mean well, and I know I need to focus more energies on it. And really, realistically speaking, shouldn't you always be ready to 'go?' I know that's a hard one. As a bipolar, I might be one thing, including that, and then not so much. But God did create bipolars. I'm hoping we'll come to an understanding, especially if I keep the communication lines open.

Well, regardless, if you think the Bible is right - meaning if you believe in the literal teachings/revelations within, as this fascinating 'Left Behind' biblical scholar guy completely does - its going to have to do with an anger and a blow up of tensions in the Middle East (specifically, says this guy, between Israel and Iran) and that there will be a world wide outcry concerning this 'blowup' and what sounds to me like nuclear war. I have heard of the rapture, and they make it sound nice, but frankly, it sounds to me like millions of people being boiled/incinerated instantly - a nuclear holocaust. They don't seem to say that, so I will have to delve into the Bible myself to get a real opinion, because this is like going on Biblical heresay to have it described. It was a very intesting program and a subject that I think is mucho importante since if that stuff's coming to pass, one should have their ducks in order, no? That's how is effects me.

Well, to further yacking about political stuff, I was very interested in an article in my Reader's Digest magazine (May 2007) where they interviewed Diane Sawyer. I have much respect for her, and come to think of it she's childless and doing fine, thank you. But that's not what got me. I'm such a typing hound I'm going to quote two responses from her, and then I'm over and out on this post. The first response was so true and perfectly uttered, like the sound bite I'm sure every news agency salivates for. The second I like because I think its true of human behaviour (perhaps you'll be surprised, for all my seeming jadedness.) Enjoy.

Reader's Digest: Who or what country do you think is the greatest danger to America now?
Diane Sawyer: I don't think it's a country. It is a ferocity unleashed, an anger, an ungovernable determination to blame America on the part of fanatic extremists. Countries, however menacing, are at least quantifiable. This other threat - terrorists and the shadowy intersections with nuclear capability - is not quantifiable.

RD: Do you feel pessimistic as many Americans do about resolving our problems with terrorism?
Sawyer: I don't. I'm not talking, obviously, about people in war zones who are taken captive by these horrific terrorists. But if you travel and talk to people, even those who hate you, there is such a strong common humanity in most of the world, and that has to prevail in the end.

Hopefully on Earth, as it surely will in Heaven. :) Hey, and like I've said before, even if this planet entirely winds down and all life ends, yet, it does go on, perhaps changing, but always ebbing on.
Tart

DW - Dear World (whut thu?!)

Today I kissed my DP (Dear Pug) and rolled over to push my DC (Dear Cat) off me, as I woke up this morning.

If you think it sounds retarded to have acronyms for my dear Cats and Dogs perhaps you’ll have some idea how it feels for me to receive emails from FLYLady, especially concerning some of the testimonials.

It’s not that I hate children, I just don’t have any. So this is just not my life, lifestyle and I can’t help but feel vaguely out of the loop when I’m getting emails about ‘my DD my DS my DH (thank God I have one of those or I would feel sooo left out!!) DEAR GOD – please release me from this clique-ish hell where I must endure hearing about lifestyles that don’t reflect my own, that seem to vaguely judge me (except part of that life is never really saying what you think), which further make me like I’m descending into a hole.

Do these women ever stop to think that no one but them cares to make up or babble about these subjects exept them? Ask thyself the sincere question: do men do this? Do Iranians do this? What about Italians? For that matter, the Hispanic person trying to live secretively next door to you? Do you know that you, DSnively woman, live in one of the most egocentric little worlds on the planet (this specific bizarre that you create and must feel safe in)? Do you have a clue what's going on elsewhere or even in your same town, if it didn't match to a tee your present understanding?

The real key to this is if you think you are made to feel like you can’t say anything. Apparently, I have not fallen into that in blog land, but I admit I don't proselytize in the real world as I should. I have had peevish, well meaning people give me the ‘I adore children’ speech and look at me as thought I were silly to ‘adore animals.’ Yes, I understand the term ‘furbaby,’ and I give a crap about how you feel about my babies as I pretty much care about yours. What are you going to do about it? Come out of your own selfish world to check out mine? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

I’ve written the posts explaining the stupidity of others concerning children, as if I could explain it. I simply note the behavior, it speaks for itself. So I don’t need to do that again.

I thought of taking the time to write a poem for all the furbaby lovers out there. All those sad, pathetic women that either can’t or won’t use their womb to further the human race. It just figures I live in a world that values person motherhood so much. It just figures I live in a crappy world as this. Sometimes you just gotta ignore it, do what you know is right, do your own thing and if you end up sinking lower and lower into a cave where no one even bothers anymore to be your friend or talk to you, so damn be it.

My Mom is back! (Hey-La, Hey-La) My Mom is back!

cornflower, Webshots pic

You know campers, I don’t divulge a lot about me home life. Often on this here blog I think I choose something to ‘discuss’ (rant) about various subjects, as if you couldn’t come up with topics. I am not an unknown world reknown speaker for nothing. As in, if I’m not paid to expound why listen to my ass?

I understand. Today, a treat for the weary and waiting. I’ve read other’s blogs. Now, maybe its because they are ‘normies’ but they do a very interesting thing. They talk about their everyday life. As though they are not afraid they are going to be tracked down through their IP address and be killed. I don’t think I’m putting ideas out there, I’m just saying. And I’m tired of setting precedents in this life – I don’t want to be the first one it happens to, ya know?

But I digress. As usual, I tempt fate.

I am so happy that the Madre has returned. While I got to leave and go on a cruise, Mummy stayed at my Dad’s apartment and continued cleaning – an extremely arduous task as Dad was a Pack Rat Extraordinaire. Well, that is done, her RV is in my driveway and life is good.

See, the house I live in has been owned by our family for 30 years. As in, for the last 29 years Mom has owned it (Dad, uh made paid payments too, like, for many years:) and last year Husband and I bought it from her. It’s just that Mummy didn’t leave. She was here. Always here. Which doesn’t make for marital bliss for us and doesn’t give me that neat Mom relationship where you hang out with Mom, then Mom leaves for her OWN house and you have blessed space. Even if this has never been your living arrangement, I think you can imagine the frustration.

So now, Mom is cleaning her stuff out of MY house and going on RV sabbatical, looking for her forever home. This is what she wants, not me. So, now you know. I guess I’m all grown up now, now that Mom is leaving home. (I think of the Beatle’s song, ‘She’s Leaving Home.’) Sure it’s a weird dilemma, it’s a weird life. And it’s mine. What makes up for it all is that I have always known that my parents really and truly love me. Sadly, that’s not the case for everyone. Which ought to be weird.

But now that she returned today, we have so much to talk about. The great thing is that she and I knew Dad like nobody else. And I am so amazed because she finally relents and agrees with things I said about Dad all along: that he was a valiant soul, that he did suffer from bipolar and that he fought it very well. It was a nice surprise to hear her say I was right about that all along. Not because it sounds nice. But because she started paying attention to the stuff she was throwing away in his room and realized that bipolar, for him, had been like a mountain of stuff –literally, as he felt compelled to hold on to everything – that he spent countless hours trying to swim out of.

He was not weak (because he couldn’t throw things away, because he was attached to stuff) he was strong because he tried so hard to beat it. He didn’t want to live in a mess. He wanted organization and a wonderful life. He just had such compulsion, but he was always trying to slay it back, get control of the beast. Ah, well, you didn’t know Dad. He was a wonderful man, and that’s no glossing of things over, either.

Of course, I sit here in my crapped up room, surrounded by stuff I just can’t seem to part with. I feel like mine is more controlled, and it is. I had great conversations with my Dad and one of the nicest things was the sweet easy feeling that he simply understood my ‘thing’ he knew what things were like. All unsaid, actually. Sure when he was older, he finally knew that he was bipolar, too. But he also literally had sat by my bedside while I struggled to come out of psychosis, whether I was sleeping (yes, he would stay there because I asked him to, even though I couldn’t stay awake!) or he would gently talk to me to calm my enormous fears and anxieties – this formidable, yet utterly gentle, spiritual force that let me know that things were going to be okay – whether by talking to me, writing things for me on a 3 x 5 card that I taped to the inside of my little cubby in the hospital, to remind me that I was loved and that he was real (literally), or simply sitting there. There could be no greater love. It's unforgettable. (And yes, that was our song at my wedding:) Ay! What a magnificent creature - he thought he was verklempt and he was so not!

I was so blessed.

So you see, I know that does not die. God plainly states that he did not create things only to kill them. It is not part of His plan that the body dies and that’s it. It is so obvious to me that this is true and I didn’t make any of this up, its in the Bible, as well as in a book I actually read. Love and life does go on.

My updated say on receiving SSDI and working

I know that a lot of people have been led to my blog by Disability Blogger and others who use one of my posts to confirm what they say about being on disability and working: Don’t mix the two.

I wrote that post under extreme duress. For those of you who may be holding within your sweaty palms a similar kind of letter from our country’s illustrious SS, I’m sure you know what I mean. The abject fear, anger, and may I reiterate the fear of the unknown and more than likely feeling that it is unfair and you just don’t know what to do is a palpable and memorable feeling to me. Every time I see a letter from them my stomach drops. Hence, if you’re like me, you start googling, looking up places like Disability Blogger and somehow, find a blog run by an angry ranting bipolar. Hey, I’m insightful as well.

I would like to explain. The following is the stuff off the top of my head that I recall having to be painfully aware of during a horrible time in my life when the Social Security Administration said they wanted $20,000 from me (if you care to know the outcome drop me a response and I will spill). Disability Blogger and all the rest should let you know about this information and give you the chance to research it to your hearts content, as well you should.

When you are initially disabled, as in you have not worked since getting the disability designation where you will now receive SSDI (congratulations by the way. Many hire lawyers just to get this far.) – SSI receivers I can’t comment on your personal hell as its not the one I’ve experienced, I’m sorry. Regarding work at this juncture, you are allowed a NINE MONTH trial period by the Social Security Administration where, to be honest, I am not sure how much you are allowed to make. I want to say you can go wild with the amount (hence the specially designated time period) but I am not sure. Research this deeply because it makes all the difference.

Now, you can’t just earn ‘crazy’ amounts of money after this time period– this is where you can go deadly wrong. Let me make clear that if you get a ‘nice’ dead eye (gov’t worker) you might beg to intersperse that nine months inconsecutively (put one month here and there as you please on paper while they are grilling you in Federal office hell) – but do not count on it! I’m telling you with utter and complete honesty that you will always do better being utterly conservative in terms of thinking to yourself, “Hmm…I can earn X amount of dollars for X amount of hours per week and STAY SAFE.” If you do not wear condoms during sex (um ever heard of AIDS? Ew!) still please THINK about what you can reasonably earn without getting in trouble. Darling, you could live your whole life and not meet a dead eye, never piss off the Federal Government. Take it from one who has (Thank you Lord, I praise you every day that I have) SURVIVED the experience – don’t tempt yourself into meeting the devil. Amen.

You can at this juncture (April 23, 2007) earn up to about $860 a month, this above and beyond what you are receiving from the SS. Do not, whatever you do, make more than the ‘allowable amount’ designated by the Social Security Administration each month you are working. Countless have fallen. You will find yourself stammering in front of a dead eyed government worker trying to explain how you dared to go over this amount. You may owe that amount, but worse, you may owe your entire check or even be forfeiting your disability status because you damn well know, (even claiming) NOT KNOWING does NOT get you off the hook. I know I am making a dead eye’s wet dream this very minute by explaining in a common vernacular. I apologize for that, but this is info you need to know.

May this be a warning to those in contemplation (of working). Sad is the life of not working when you feel that you really would like to, and that you could (and monetarily speaking, need) to earn a little somethin’ somethin’. I’m a fine example. I worked for nearly 2 years (with no trouble from SS, mind you, on this job as I purposely begged to be underpaid. I don’t know which is worse mentally, being underpaid and thereby avoiding a passel full of trouble, or sitting in front of dead eye at the local SS office.). As is my modus operandum concerning most of the jobs in my life I left because I socially/stressfully couldn’t take it (and MountTheHassle Funeral Home is the most retched establishment on the East Coast and made my life a bloody hell. There I said it. Sue me, bitches.)

I digress. The point is, I have been used to prop Disability’s Blogger’s premise that you simply shouldn’t work. In a perfect world, and you WELL know it is not, that makes sense. I mean, you’re disabled, why should you work? Poor is poor, darling. That’s for one thing. And I think a lot of SSDIer’s could use an extra $830 (technically $860 but for the love of God ALWAYS lowball your income TO BE SAFE.) a month. Moreover, I can say also from personal experience, that I am just now realizing that the thing I really feel that I am missing in life is something meaningful to do. The thought of getting to do ANYthing that would give me sense of fulfillment immediately lifts my depression, if only for a moment. So you see, you CAN be both simultaneously disabled and able to do something of worth, and I think it’s a terrible shame to encourage people to sit at home (if that's not the only thing they want or can do) and do nothing so as not to piss off the government. I mean REALLY, what has this world come to?

Don’t answer that. But research the info, definitely look into your options. And there really are options. I’m willing to answer questions, looking up what I don’t know of course, because I see SO MANY people coming here looking for answers and I feel for you. Whatever you do, don’t lose hope because if I could get off, HONestly anyone can. Heck, I couldn’t even get a lawyer to TAKE my case, so I can’t say enough that miracles do happen. The upshot is I really would like to help if I can.
Tart

THINK of the children.

**Spoiler at end.**

So maybe we return to a time when Tart talks about things going on within. I have been full of rage, which I’ve chosen not to go into, and I don’t feel that way right now.

Now, as I read one of my ‘older’ People magazines and discover an article about a 4 year-old girl who seems by all accounts ‘was killed by her parents with her own bipolar medication.’ Wow! You’re thinking how could a child be diagnosed with this at age 2 ½?

I know it’s rotten to live with a bipolar kid. I mean, I wonder how my parents did it. They were really attached to me apparently. They (‘medical community’) weren’t handing out that diagnosis like popcorn as they presently do. Yes, I had some rotten behavior which was diagnosed as hypoglycemia, of all things! Apparently, I wasn’t eating enough protein at the right times. I was bipolar, and there were no young bipolars at the time. Go figure. Now it’s the ‘diagnosis de jour.’ Every nasty kid under 12 is now bipolar.

Understand that I don’t believe that anything other than psychotropic medication could have saved my life at age 16. There’s nothing like a shot in the ass when you are flying in the stratosphere psychotic. Period. Did you hear me? I believe in the drugs. If I had structure and took the damn drugs right there wouldn’t have been a 2nd/3rd time age the tender age of 24.

Just as a complete aside, I am convinced that reason Mr. Hemingway shot himself just 2 years after receiving the highest prize in literature (the Pulitzer) was not necessarily because of a down (cause how much higher can you go now?). It was because psychotropic medication was not available any time during his life. Lithium was being discovered in the ‘50’s. Hemingway shot himself in 1966. This is pure conjecture and thinking on my part, but it makes damn good sense. The upshot is, if there’s medication that can help, even if it makes you fat, damn it, how can you whine and moan when you are one of the first few generations to have a chance to live!! If you don’t like it, kill yourself quietly and give others the chance to be. We ALL hate a whiner - try that crap in 'supportive environment' like a hospital and expect to get your ass whipped. Whipped! I'll come do it for you.

Concerning children, the psych community says structure before drugging. It’s dumb ass parents that’s giving drugging a bad name. I had to choose to take meds before I could vote, talk about taking some responsibility. What the hell is wrong with the one set of people that are supposed to advocate, stand up and take care of a kid? It’s another god damn category of child abuse to not make some structure for yourself and a child who desperately needs it. How do people live with themselves and their excuses? Oh, but they do and with plenty.

They say the thing that these kids need even more than drugs/medication is a really stable environment/structure. It’s easier for some people to drug them instead. Pill popping vs. the work – you make the call. Especially when there is no national program to create structure for kids and nobody’s educating parents either on how the heck to do such a thing.

Basically, there’s a lot of adults that can’t even create structure for themselves, how can you possibly expect them to do it for the pint size people in their lives, that they may not have even invited in.

It’s kind of like taking your doggie to Petsmart classes; a lot of ‘pet parents’ don’t realize it’s them that is being educated the most. Except for a vet suggesting it’s a good thing, people would say why bother. You can bet it’s a thousand fold on the thought of why bother when its pesky kids. Really. Sad but true.

I’m going to say it. Some people shouldn’t be parents. They shouldn’t have the biggest responsibility in the world. Sadly, it’s very obvious this country is not supportive of moms, dads, or children for that matter. If it gets in the way of someone’s porn someone’s going to say ‘Shut up and get out of the way of my porn. Who cares about your brats?’ It’s an uphill battle, to be sure. Our legal system is about individual rights not about creating a place for people to raise families. That’s all on the parent too. I feel for you. You better THINK ABOUT WHAT YER GETTING INTO when you create that 20 year responsibility.

But again, that doesn’t make it okay for people to act ignorant and drug their kids into oblivion because they can’t figure out what to do. Perform the hard work. Do it. Or we should have a national program to give up our kids and have someone sane provide the structure. Oh, I forgot, that’s the mental health system (I got tons of structure in there), or a dump yer kids off entirely system (adoption). But don’t be tryin’ to perform that recently spanked Supreme Court no no, the abortion, or at least do it in the first 13 weeks of pregnancy, so it don’t get messy. Again, that’s getting’ in the way of someone’s porn – could you Please Keep It Down!!

What Will Matter

This is a beautiful poem and webpage that truly captures what it really does mean to live. For me reading it, right after my father's death, it has such a special poignancy a real meaning because it rings so true. It gets right to the heart of what matters in life, and what won't. Because it has copyright, I didn't try to contact the poet but instead am posting the beautiful site where you can find it. Peace.
Tart

http://susie1114.com/LiveALife.html

It's a no-pic day on blogger today.

Imagine, if you will, a knarly lone tree in the middle of a green field. It's a strange tree, all by itself, with all of its branches flowing toward the left.

That would be my lone tree that won't print today on God's blessed Blogger. Fine. I'm no poet, but I just described it. I wanted it to be here at the top.

It's okay to be a lone individual. To be different. The key is to involve yourself in something positive, be it something positive for yourself that nobody sees, or may it flow over and affect other's lives positively.

Sit seething in your anger and it can _only go to bad places_. For YOU. If you find you cannot control your anger you owe it to TALK to someone, because that is a protection of OTHERS if not yourself.

Don't ever think you have the right to _take away (lives)_ from others or use your judgement to hurt others. That will righteously get you in jail, if you're caught by human hands, or into the gates of Hell even if you think you are so swift as to not be judged by humans.

What I don't understand about this situation with the asshole who did what any numnut with way too much rage and _access to guns_, is how they can say 'no one knew him' (aka: no one will take remote responsibility for no one catching the nut job beforehand).

The guy was an English major, a Senior no less, writing such disturbing stuff that he was sent to counseling AND his teacher admitted feeling VERY uncomfortable in his presence. HOW did he get so far in college writing frightening crap, almost graduating no less. THIS ONE THING is what we need to be looking for in our present num nuts that are waiting to perform the NEXT worst shooting in U.S. history.

I do have a right to say this. A) I was an English major (had to play the game to get my piece of paper). B) I have already been labeled by society as having Emotional Disturbance (though thankfully its possible to be emotionally disturbed and not have a thought to hurting others and may I say, even myself). If this guy was so scary, take that info and apply it to the other loners, the other people trying to threaten (like a loser, I might add).

It goes without saying that I feel such a sadness over this. Simultaneously, I feel such anger. I'm so glad I am not involved because it is precisely this anger that would have to be dealt with in order for me to personally go on with my life. I think we now see what a miracle the Amish's forgiveness was in a similar circumstance. Will mothers and fathers be able to rid themselves of the terrible after taste of someone else's supremely selfish (and damnable) acts? I cannot image having to deal with that.

As it is, I must deal with my own personal problems, such as my father's death, the ongoing stuff to take care of that and my own depression where I seem not to care about much. It's hard on my family, let me tell you. I must have been an angel previously, I must have been NICE to my family previously, because they hang in there, they keep speaking to me, they are KIND to me when I am not. And so I know I am blessed.

CafePress: Gone.

Why is CafePress off Tart's blog, Mommy?

Well, because they entirely changed their affiliate program, because they were not making any money, and then turned the entire program over to a different company and no one has yet to make any sense out of it. Not to mention that not a single soul bought anything off the ads in Tart's website. Talk about not feasible in anyone's world, Sweet Darling.

CafePress is gone, off me site. If I make something to sell, I just might let people know. Otherwise I'm not crapping up my site with useless blinking ads that nobody cares about. Well, you lose some you learn some.

I'm back.

Yes, I am back.:)

As would probably be expected, I don't return on a high. After all, it really has been a hell-ified ride/two months.

To go completely out of order, the cruise was lovely. It was really nice to go to warm, happy locations, to be in a place entirely different than usual life. Wow, the timing of everything has been wonderful. And there is no joy in that last sentence. Tidy and convenient does not make a loved one's passing any easier or better. I would prefer that Dad was checking up on my blog and that I could talk to him. That we could have done something to keep this from happening.

I hope I don't have to return to Dad's other state (to say 'home state' wouldn't be right, since that's the one I do live in and not the far off one he was banished to late in life). It's depressante, a small town, with small minds and my Dad was the bipolar pack rat with MANY interests - my work there (going through all his things with most things being donated) was hell, body and soul. My knees never ached so much my whole life. My back hurt, not just from the lower but all the way up. I wished to find a tiny asian person to step on my back for me. Never did a person deserve a damn back massage and frankly I still haven't got one. I don't know what that was about, but I felt 92 there.

His cat I had to hand over to the only people I could find that were at all enlightened. You see, in Hellville, there's a feral cat on every lawn and no comprehension or desire to have an indoor cat that is kept safe, fed, or treated well. I thought it was an uphill battle to get proper homes in my area. There, its not only unheard of, but people literally see no reason to do right for cats. And Dad was an intelligent guy, and a loving one and his cat was taken care of - never stepped outside his apartment ever, and so on. She also had special significance in my mind as she was the only other living soul to be there when Dad's soul left his body and this earth. I'm just going to say that it would be hard for anyone to be good enough for that cat, but luckily the people who have her now have some incentive - the Dad in their family is an EMT and was there that day and attempted to resuscitate my Dad. I don't think that's too hard for even a dumb yokel to get the picture and treat the cat well. Thankfully. Because I tried to get her back. But they were too sneaky for me. Bastards.

Well, the next thing for me personally is the one thing that has been important for a while. Oh you haven't heard about this? Yes you have! The important are always the HARD things that keep creeping up, over and over and over again. If it matters, its an uphill constant problem. Of course you know that!!

Yes, I'm back to working on losing weight. You see, my dumb ass husband, with about as much thoughtfulness asked me for the fortimillionth time last night, "Why you gotta hog?" in reference to my evening snacking. He did this one in front of a friend. Oh I don't know, I got pissed. I am pissed. So, for my own reasons I am using the same power (willpower.) used to quit smoking, to simply say no to food. Certainly at night. And I'll be using it dayside too. I spent countless time with my Weight Watcher's food tracker this evening. It took me so long to discover where the part was that I could type my blah blah notes in that I was breaking out in frustrating tears. Let it be noted. I'm losing the weight this time. And I don't even care if it takes the latent anorexic abilities that I am sure lie within me to complete the job. Now, if you just googled anorexic and found yourself here, I can do nothing but laugh at you because I'm the fattest anorexic you've ever seen. But hey, we have to start somewhere. I'm not surprised I'm such a late bloomer either. After all, the illness (bipolar) screwed the timing for everything in my life, why should anorexia not start at 35? I'm not trendy, I'm in it for the results.

When I get all my books that I picked out from Dad's 3,000 or so - that is no lie - I might be a source of help and spiritual understanding to many, since those were my favorites amongst his things. He liked to call it 'mental magic,' I just call it Dad's self help section of his personal librabry. I also will have several hundred photos - a scrapbook opportunity that only a disabled bipolar with no job could have the time to relish the making of. I'm proud to say that of the many other religions Dad looked at and researched he unmistakably was interested in the Bible, as he well should - my Grandma taught him right - and I'll be able to study the tome until *I* die since he's got great stuff on that. I love his books on organization, procrastination - you know all the stuff that did him such great good. Sigh.

That's not an apology!

Um, as you can tell I was rotten angry when I wrote my last post. I'm not taking it down because I do think the Iranian government sucks a big one. But I was not suggesting in any way that the Christian thing to do was bomb them. I think anyone with small clues to being a proper Christian can see that He wouldn't sanction that one. Well, maybe - you know He did get mad about things, but only the really important stuff. I admit to be a learner, not a teacher of His ways.

No, bombs and such were just what I inwardly felt, when I see them get away with terrorizing innocent people. Thinking that they are getting away with patronizing us about our own Christianity is rilesome as well. For instance, we could round up some Iranians in a detention camp and let them out on Muhammad's birthday, whenever the hell that is, to show our good faith. That's what I'm talking about - it just aint right.

Let's face it, the world is not going to get anything but scarier, more terrorized especially in some parts of the world as time goes on. We have a fine chapter in the Bible about it and I really should read it sometime to get caught up on the details. I'm just being truthful, I'm not as learned on that stuff as I should be. I'm definitely a bipolar with occasional rage issues, but again, that's just me.

Oh, see 'you guys' in a week. I'm on vaa-ca-tion.

Bomb em rotten, right into the StoneAge - right in time for Easter (blessings to you!)

Well, now that Iran has released Western sailors I do believe its time to bomb the f*ck out of them, don't you?

When known bullies do bad rotten things they get punished. The cops go to their house and take 'em down. Don't tell me we don't know where President Whatever of Iran lives. Bomb the fucks. Pay the price. Don't let them get away with it. Presidente Bush has made it clear he doesn't negotiage with anyone, not even the American people. Fine. I'm all for that. If you're gonna cut ties with everybody including the ties that hold you up, have the decency to give us all a little satisfaction and bomb em, behead them, start a little military coup. Make it interesting for me, G*ddamn it but make those motherf*ck*rs pay the price.

Here's what gets me the most. THEY (as in the Iranians) think this is all some fabulous media blitz and LOOK what huge favors they have performed for the West. I paid close to attention to this one - they said they are releasing the prisoners in and I quote, "In Celebration of Christ's Death."

That's it, "Christ Death." and blah, blah about Muhammad. Easter is NOT about Christ's DEATH. That was but a momentary 3 day long thing. It is about His RISING from the grave and being a permanent source as a risen Supreme Being. Are these people devil worshippers delighting in His horrible man-made death? No Christian celebrates the Death of Jesus. They wait with hope and celebrate the incredible miracle of His love. What is the deal - the spin makers and media cranks for President Whatever of Iran couldn't get it right? Never the heard the Good News apparently and certainly didn't think people would care about the VERY TELLING SEMANTICS of what their sick statement about Easter REALLY says? Bomb the f*ckers. Jesus would say turn the other cheek and let them take Irish Air Men next time, so no I'm not being very Christian about the whole thing (admittedly, not at all!) but let's not have a bunch of Muslim fucknut liars who think they're pulling the wool over our eyes and having a personally orchestrated media frenzy define what Christianity is or how 'kind' they are by 'respecting' it. What a load of crap.

I'm here, Spring is sprung, and you get to go WHERE!!?

How amazing Spring!

I've done a major modify and I choose Spring as my favorite season. I like the budding beauty, the impossible not to notice flowers and trees everywhere. You could drive off the side of the road from all the beauty nature is shoving forth.

Yes! The Tart is back!

I told you it would happen. You can count on it, just like Spring is purty.

Well, this short time period has not been without its issues. I'm debating how deeply to go into things. I can say that my Dad's service was lovely. It's not something that you look forward to doing or want to do, but I'm proud to say that I was able to stand and speak as well as read the obituary I wrote for him. That being my previous 'profession' well, it kicked ass just like you would expect it to. It wasn't hard because he was an amazing man. (And neither he nor I would ever have to jump up and down on a couch to prove it. :)

Well, the one thing that has helped so much through this time is this nifty little device that Husband found at the drug store. I'm telling you this thing is worth its weight several times in gold and has really and truly changed my life. I'm talking about my pillbox timer.

Made by Timex, the best part about it is it makes the Med Experience fun! It does this because I still haven't gotten over the fact that it speaks - Take pillbox 1, Take pillbox 1 - yes, it SAYS that. It's a simple concept - set the alarm for when to take your meds, up to 6 possible alarms, you don't have to use them all.This little beauty cost approximately $15.

I ACTUALLY GET UP IN THE A.M. NOW!!!! This my friends, is a Holy Miracle.

I had important work in the past two weeks. I couldn't sleep till 2 p.m. and get away with it. Even if I'm not perfect and getting super early, I get up when my pillbox SAYS so and start my day. This is a God send for me, and I'm sharing with the Internet universe. I can take a picture of the thing and put it up. I think it is so helpful for people like me who have to take meds consistently every day day. It's hard for everyone to keep up with it, even if you mean well and are responsible and know that taking meds is key to health and in fact, key to mental power.

I am so beastly, guess what!! I am going to be gone AGAIN! I get to go on an Easter cruise!! Yes, I know you are saying it couldn't happen to a nicer and more deserving person (besides yourself, right?) Well, this has been planned for months, via my MIL for herself, FIL and all of her children and grandchildren. I will be hitting Key West and the Bahamas (just in time for AN's baby DNA testing debacle!) Maybe I can get tickets! :( Ouch, that's just a little too truthful. Never did someone need a vacation, hun. We are so ready to go, except of course we are not 'READY' still getting a kennel, packing, the gammut.

Not if all THAT wasn't enough, and if my Dad passing wasn't enough, we had a BIG problem because when I submitted my (original) birth certificate with my passport application (something that for some very dumb reason family wanted us to do. You don't NEED a passport to get on a cruise, but you must at LEAST have your birth certificate) the State Department (I'm not making this up. I have too much juicy non-fiction in my life to even start thinking fiction) sent me a letter wanting all kinds of id and enough info to issue me a security clearance along with my passport. That means the little bastards have my b.c. So, we sent away for a replacement b.c and luckily RECEIVED it after a very tense week of 'oh hell, what are we going to do.'

So, one serious hurdle overcome. Yaaaaaaaay!

Then today, Husband started having very sharp lower back pains. God bless his fortitude, he actually made an appointment with his doctor where he diagnosed him with a kidney stone. They were making us wait for a referral to a urologist, but Husband was in so much pain they finally came to their senses and told us to go the emergency room. When we got there, they asked him to rate his pain on a level of one to ten, and bless his heart, he said nine. It hurt so much that he couldn't help but cry a little. Well, they doped him up in no time, took a CAT scan and said it was a small stone and that it would pass on its own and at home. So, lots of water and a little strainer to catch that puppy when it emerges. You have to save it for the urologist to analyze.

He is going to be fine. All this did was cut down a day for me to get a lot of things done. It also proved that I'm a fine advocate. Believe it or not, I know how to be nice enough to get things done, but tenacious and tough enough to get things done. Which I did wonder about me, since my 'mom skills' don't get tested on a daily basis. It's nice to know they are there if needed.

So, once again, I'll be gone for a week after this Friday, returning the next Friday. Have a fabulous Easter. :)