My dog is an old black cocker spaniel who formerly made a living of running amock on the streets of Cleveland. Some how, many years ago, my family begrudgingly acquired this dog named Kubli (named for Kubli Kahn, Gangus Kahn's brother). I have no idea how old this dog, who is sometimes known as Poop Dog, Stink Dog, or Underbite — names which reflect some of his finer attributes — was when he happened to join our house hold. All i know is he kind was kinda crusty then, and it's been a lot of years since we got him.
These days good old Poop Dog has an ora of stank which is both indestructible, and sometimes almost tangible. The stink of this dog is so profound that it has almost taken on personality of its own. "hey here's Underbite and his invisible side kick, Stank".
(i'm not even going into a description of the green eye puss. I think saying that there is green eye puss (gobs of it) involved will suffice to describe the pure nast of the green eye puss which is infact located on the eye of my dog Underbite. )
I made the mistake of watching Ceaser the Dog Whisperer and thinking to myself "hey, i can do this".
1. I actually did succeed at wispering my my way in to position of pack leader.
2. Now that i've tried my hand at dog whispering, and Poop Dog knows i am the pack leader, i can't even use the bathroom with out old faithful and loyal poop dog there waiting on the other side of the door for me.
The moral of this story folks: Don't dog whisper stinky dogs, their stank will become yours.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
This is NOT how we do it!
So my boss is a very sweet lady, but she is defiantly a spunky free spirit. She's a lot of fun to work for — she's an early 40's bar owning party animal, truly, i can't keep up with this lady and I'm only 26.
We're trying to boost business, so we can pay the bills. Last night she, in not so many words, told me that i should start dressing like a slut and putting gobs of makeup on because "that's the business" She clams that men come in for sex appeal because they aren't getting any at home, and that we - the bar tenders - are their fantasies. They want glamorous bartenders.
I have so many problems with all of this, i don't even know where to begin. Perhaps i shall use a numerated list, here goes.
1. Although i have been away from the world for a while, living a secluded and sheltered little life in the woods of New Hampshire, i am fairly solid in who i am. I figure by the time a person is 26 they aught to be not only sure of them selves, but also pretty okay with it. For example: i don't really buy new cloths, i just kind of make do with what i have or can get inexpensively. This is because i chose to live a simple life with out many possessions, this means i can spend more time a free woman and less time a wage-slave. I am okay with the fact that i am the perfect candidate for "what not to wear".
2. I've never been a pretty girl before, and have always managed to get through life with many friends and associates etc. I always have relied more on my personality and ability to make people laugh or feel comfortable than my physical appearance to build and form friendships. Why should i have to slut myself out now, because i work in a bar?
2a. Frankly the kind of people who are more inclined to sit at a bar and fantasize about a woman and or make lude and disrespectful comments are not the kind of people that i want to be around - they make my skin crawl because i know neither their thoughts nor their intentions are pure. These are NOT the kind of people that i wish to spend an evening at the bar with, these are the people that i want to flee far far away from.
3. I think it is unjust, deceitful and over all despicable to pry on men's weakness for flesh - to tempt and tease them - in order to get a buck. What a terrible way to take advantage of a man, especially when you consider that these men often times have wives and children at home. When you follow this train of though you eventually come to the conclusion that not only are you taking advantage of men, but also you are disrespecting their wives, and having no regard for the beauty and dignity that is hers in being a wife and mother. Full circe; a woman who choses to make a living about this have clearly no respect of concern for the well being of neither man nor woman.
The more i think about it the more angry i get and the more tirades i want to go off on.
We're trying to boost business, so we can pay the bills. Last night she, in not so many words, told me that i should start dressing like a slut and putting gobs of makeup on because "that's the business" She clams that men come in for sex appeal because they aren't getting any at home, and that we - the bar tenders - are their fantasies. They want glamorous bartenders.
I have so many problems with all of this, i don't even know where to begin. Perhaps i shall use a numerated list, here goes.
1. Although i have been away from the world for a while, living a secluded and sheltered little life in the woods of New Hampshire, i am fairly solid in who i am. I figure by the time a person is 26 they aught to be not only sure of them selves, but also pretty okay with it. For example: i don't really buy new cloths, i just kind of make do with what i have or can get inexpensively. This is because i chose to live a simple life with out many possessions, this means i can spend more time a free woman and less time a wage-slave. I am okay with the fact that i am the perfect candidate for "what not to wear".
2. I've never been a pretty girl before, and have always managed to get through life with many friends and associates etc. I always have relied more on my personality and ability to make people laugh or feel comfortable than my physical appearance to build and form friendships. Why should i have to slut myself out now, because i work in a bar?
2a. Frankly the kind of people who are more inclined to sit at a bar and fantasize about a woman and or make lude and disrespectful comments are not the kind of people that i want to be around - they make my skin crawl because i know neither their thoughts nor their intentions are pure. These are NOT the kind of people that i wish to spend an evening at the bar with, these are the people that i want to flee far far away from.
3. I think it is unjust, deceitful and over all despicable to pry on men's weakness for flesh - to tempt and tease them - in order to get a buck. What a terrible way to take advantage of a man, especially when you consider that these men often times have wives and children at home. When you follow this train of though you eventually come to the conclusion that not only are you taking advantage of men, but also you are disrespecting their wives, and having no regard for the beauty and dignity that is hers in being a wife and mother. Full circe; a woman who choses to make a living about this have clearly no respect of concern for the well being of neither man nor woman.
The more i think about it the more angry i get and the more tirades i want to go off on.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
I have no idea
I have no idea where this came from, but it said it in my profile.
Your superpower is that you smell like dandelions whenever someone lies. How will you maintain your secret identity?
I don't even care to maintain my secret identity, this may be the all time most perfect super power for me, ever - way sweeter than mind reading. I want it! Think about it, you would always know when someone lies - and they would know you know, so they could never lie to you. How much easier would this life really be if no one elver lied to you.
Not only that, but you could use your super skills to narrow down suspects in crime investigations and stuff. . . Just ask the guy questions and follow your nose.
The only thing id like to change is that i would rather smell like Daises or Roses - Dandelion is really not a pleasant smell. Also id like a side of being able to fly or travel at the speed of thought or something.
Your superpower is that you smell like dandelions whenever someone lies. How will you maintain your secret identity?
I don't even care to maintain my secret identity, this may be the all time most perfect super power for me, ever - way sweeter than mind reading. I want it! Think about it, you would always know when someone lies - and they would know you know, so they could never lie to you. How much easier would this life really be if no one elver lied to you.
Not only that, but you could use your super skills to narrow down suspects in crime investigations and stuff. . . Just ask the guy questions and follow your nose.
The only thing id like to change is that i would rather smell like Daises or Roses - Dandelion is really not a pleasant smell. Also id like a side of being able to fly or travel at the speed of thought or something.
7/27/08
I tend bar at an interesting place in the middle of Shaker Heights, which probably belongs in Boston or New York or any where but Shaker Heights. I have no idea how i fit in this bar, except the boss is seemingly obsessed with having a sexy bar, apparently i have a passable ass and i like to drink. We recently got new black lights and are equipped with a disco ball.
The core cliental is made up of middle age or older hard working African Americans, a few younger folks come through from time to time and every once in a while some white people too. Don't get me wrong i really enjoy the experience, i've had some really excellent discussions about a lot issues that exist in the world and been able to hear a lot of perspectives that i may not have had the chance to hear had i not been the poorer of drinks at this particular establishment.
We play a lot of 70's soul, and funk and Motown at the bar. I dig the music, and slowly the regulars are learning how truly bad i am.
The other night two white kids, probably 22 came in. Not only are they out of their element here, but also i kind of wondered to myself if the ids that they produced were in fact legit. If they were legal, they were on the newly able to drink in public side. You can always tell them, they are kind of cocky and kind of nervous - they like to show off that they are drinking (oh yeah, you're totally going to impress a bar tender with that party trick). I think they were a couple, a girl and a boy.
At one point, while i refilled their drinks, the girl looked at me and said "i don't know one song that you've played in here".
I couldn't resist:
"I'm sorry that you're so white" and went about my business filling other beverages.
mortified she sat there while equally honkey boyfriend pissed his pants laughing.
In short, if you come in to the bar that i tend clueless, and think i wont find some smart ass comment to make, you are sadly mistaken.
The core cliental is made up of middle age or older hard working African Americans, a few younger folks come through from time to time and every once in a while some white people too. Don't get me wrong i really enjoy the experience, i've had some really excellent discussions about a lot issues that exist in the world and been able to hear a lot of perspectives that i may not have had the chance to hear had i not been the poorer of drinks at this particular establishment.
We play a lot of 70's soul, and funk and Motown at the bar. I dig the music, and slowly the regulars are learning how truly bad i am.
The other night two white kids, probably 22 came in. Not only are they out of their element here, but also i kind of wondered to myself if the ids that they produced were in fact legit. If they were legal, they were on the newly able to drink in public side. You can always tell them, they are kind of cocky and kind of nervous - they like to show off that they are drinking (oh yeah, you're totally going to impress a bar tender with that party trick). I think they were a couple, a girl and a boy.
At one point, while i refilled their drinks, the girl looked at me and said "i don't know one song that you've played in here".
I couldn't resist:
"I'm sorry that you're so white" and went about my business filling other beverages.
mortified she sat there while equally honkey boyfriend pissed his pants laughing.
In short, if you come in to the bar that i tend clueless, and think i wont find some smart ass comment to make, you are sadly mistaken.
Monday, July 21, 2008
07/21/08
Well i know its a far jump to go from the wearing or anti wearing of makeup into the papacy, but hey. . . i'm full of surprises.
Any hoo i was sitting on a park bench with my cousin and brother like a trio of hobos this afternoon — It was rather satisfying to tell you the truth — and as we acted obnoxious in public we perused a news paper conveniently left on the bench for us. Gabe grabbed the sports section, Toby tacked the metro section, and i looked for the classifieds to no avail, leaving me with the front pages news. . . dreadful. I read a few things about the elections, which i'm really not interested in at all. I dont care, at this point i am equally unimpressed with both candidates and skeptical of their politics in general. But i'm not going to rant about that, i am far too disgusted at this point to rant, rather i sort of quietly feel sorrow and depression about the whole thing.
After these few quick blerbs i notticed some news from the vatican in the lower right hand corner. Apparently there is a group of women who call themselves Roman Catholic who plan to get "ordained" as priests. Makes my stomach turn. I'm not going to go in to the depths about the facts details and quotes about this in the church tradition and teaching and scripture about why women can't really be priests. I could but all that stuff bores me a little bit, honestly. What i know is that for 2000 years women were not accepted in to the priest hood. All over scripture it is evident that this is not what God wants for His church. In the Old Testiment God meticulsouly measured out His specifications for the priest hood, right down to the nitty gritty of how when and where they were to offer a sacrifice pleasing to God. Always the priests were men, never women.
The New Testament is the fulfillment of all that the Old Testament was leading to. None of the Apostles - the churches first priests ordained by Jesus Christ Himself, were women. Its historical, its documented and its tradition - meaning it is what we in the modern era have had handed down from generation to generation regarding the ways Our Lord wants the church to function.
Please, don't get me wrong i'm not hating on women here: Truly one of the most important human beings (accepting our Lord as he was truly human but truly divine due to the hypostatic union). Clearly, Jesus is tops, but when we consider the people that are just people and in no way Divine, the most important human in the whole drama and epic that is the creation and salvation of man kind is a woman. The Blessed Virgin Mary, to be exact. Women have always played a huge roll in the sanctity of the church, its just that God intended us to do it a different way than men. And i think thats only fair, i mean we are a different than men, so why should we expect to do things the exact same as them. In a lot of ways, it makes me sad that more women don't truly understand the dignity and beauty that is a woman in all of her feminine mystique. Thank you once again bra-burning man hating feminists, way to make life way more difficult on the real women of the world.
But again, i digress. I don't understand why so many modern people can insist on making up new things in the church that truly have never existed in the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church and pretend like they have anything to do with the church. Its pride and its silly, and its causing this world great harm.
I was pleased to see that our current Pope Benedict XVI has already stated that any women who attempt to be Ordained as priests will be excommunicated. I'm sure the make believing women won't care that they are excommunicated, but i am glad that His Holiness is once again standing up for The Church and all that she is. . . .even if its against current popular thought. Thank goodness that the Pope knows that current popular thought doesnt hold a candle to the thought and understanding which has lasted for over 2000 years.
So thats what i thought about on my way home from hobo time.
Any hoo i was sitting on a park bench with my cousin and brother like a trio of hobos this afternoon — It was rather satisfying to tell you the truth — and as we acted obnoxious in public we perused a news paper conveniently left on the bench for us. Gabe grabbed the sports section, Toby tacked the metro section, and i looked for the classifieds to no avail, leaving me with the front pages news. . . dreadful. I read a few things about the elections, which i'm really not interested in at all. I dont care, at this point i am equally unimpressed with both candidates and skeptical of their politics in general. But i'm not going to rant about that, i am far too disgusted at this point to rant, rather i sort of quietly feel sorrow and depression about the whole thing.
After these few quick blerbs i notticed some news from the vatican in the lower right hand corner. Apparently there is a group of women who call themselves Roman Catholic who plan to get "ordained" as priests. Makes my stomach turn. I'm not going to go in to the depths about the facts details and quotes about this in the church tradition and teaching and scripture about why women can't really be priests. I could but all that stuff bores me a little bit, honestly. What i know is that for 2000 years women were not accepted in to the priest hood. All over scripture it is evident that this is not what God wants for His church. In the Old Testiment God meticulsouly measured out His specifications for the priest hood, right down to the nitty gritty of how when and where they were to offer a sacrifice pleasing to God. Always the priests were men, never women.
The New Testament is the fulfillment of all that the Old Testament was leading to. None of the Apostles - the churches first priests ordained by Jesus Christ Himself, were women. Its historical, its documented and its tradition - meaning it is what we in the modern era have had handed down from generation to generation regarding the ways Our Lord wants the church to function.
Please, don't get me wrong i'm not hating on women here: Truly one of the most important human beings (accepting our Lord as he was truly human but truly divine due to the hypostatic union). Clearly, Jesus is tops, but when we consider the people that are just people and in no way Divine, the most important human in the whole drama and epic that is the creation and salvation of man kind is a woman. The Blessed Virgin Mary, to be exact. Women have always played a huge roll in the sanctity of the church, its just that God intended us to do it a different way than men. And i think thats only fair, i mean we are a different than men, so why should we expect to do things the exact same as them. In a lot of ways, it makes me sad that more women don't truly understand the dignity and beauty that is a woman in all of her feminine mystique. Thank you once again bra-burning man hating feminists, way to make life way more difficult on the real women of the world.
But again, i digress. I don't understand why so many modern people can insist on making up new things in the church that truly have never existed in the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church and pretend like they have anything to do with the church. Its pride and its silly, and its causing this world great harm.
I was pleased to see that our current Pope Benedict XVI has already stated that any women who attempt to be Ordained as priests will be excommunicated. I'm sure the make believing women won't care that they are excommunicated, but i am glad that His Holiness is once again standing up for The Church and all that she is. . . .even if its against current popular thought. Thank goodness that the Pope knows that current popular thought doesnt hold a candle to the thought and understanding which has lasted for over 2000 years.
So thats what i thought about on my way home from hobo time.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
7/17/08
I really hate putting on makeup. I went five years with out accentuating my cheek bones, or bringing out my eye color, i didn't miss it, and i didn't feel less beautiful. it didn't matter, it wasn't part of my daily existence. True, i was in the middle of no where, and i wasn't really all that worried about weather or not the squirrels or visiting bears thought that me attractive. I've always been one of those people who truly holds that beauty comes from with in. I know this is probably one of the biggest clichés that ever existed, but its true. Any beauty that we may physically possess is only the intangible beauty with in us, shining through, kind of like the light and heat from a flame radiate through a glass holder.
functioning under this understanding, for five years, i didn't use make up. However, for some reason, that i don't really understand when i came back to society i began to feel like i need to wear makeup again. At first it was sort of fun, like when i was a young girl playing with make up for the first time, but soon enough it became more of a chore than a pleasure. When it was time for me to get ready for work i dreaded putting on make up, i just wanted to get it over with. Despite the fact that i loathed the task of making myself up, i continued to do so, day in and day out . . . as if i had to. It's ridiculous really, I've become a slave to vanity.
What's worse is i've become a slave to vanity because i was worried about how society would view me, i felt a need to fit in to something that i KNOW i don't really fit in. I don't even really like society or any thing that its made up of, so why would i compromise and try to conform myself to its rules and regulations.
well no wonder i've been cranky lately. Thats it, make up you're done for! I'm sure i can find much more enjoyable ways of using the extra time that i have just added to my day!
functioning under this understanding, for five years, i didn't use make up. However, for some reason, that i don't really understand when i came back to society i began to feel like i need to wear makeup again. At first it was sort of fun, like when i was a young girl playing with make up for the first time, but soon enough it became more of a chore than a pleasure. When it was time for me to get ready for work i dreaded putting on make up, i just wanted to get it over with. Despite the fact that i loathed the task of making myself up, i continued to do so, day in and day out . . . as if i had to. It's ridiculous really, I've become a slave to vanity.
What's worse is i've become a slave to vanity because i was worried about how society would view me, i felt a need to fit in to something that i KNOW i don't really fit in. I don't even really like society or any thing that its made up of, so why would i compromise and try to conform myself to its rules and regulations.
well no wonder i've been cranky lately. Thats it, make up you're done for! I'm sure i can find much more enjoyable ways of using the extra time that i have just added to my day!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
David Bowie and Providence
Today is Easter Sunday, 2008. There is so much symbolism in my life right now – I don’t even know if its worth delving into, I mean it must be obvious. Well reguardless, its obvious to me.
I’ll sum it up. I landed back in the house in which I lived for 20 years (give or take a couple) Easter morning circa 1:30 am. A month ago, all which was my life for five years was abruptly tossed up into the air (which I feel is a week description applied to the situation out of charity).
Easter is a time of rebirth in the Ressurection of our Lord. I’m here in Cleveland, where I am picking up the pieces and starting over. See what I mean by obvious?
So, its Easter Sunday. My family doesn’t do much of anything — outside of wishing each other a happy Easter — to celebrate the day. This fact put a very mellow spin on my celebration of the end of the penitential season. A few times during the day my mind drifted back to the family I lived with for a time, and imagined them all celebrating and rejoicing. Feasting like kings (and they deserve it, the family doesn’t touch a drop of meat for 40 days, they do not snack between meals, and they do not eat desert — they know how to have a good Easter). There they sat, dipping with laughter, surrounded — and I do mean surrounded; there were eleven children, five of whom have started familes of their own (I believe the family already boasts at least ten grandchildren). Nothing is wrong today. It is true, at times I wished I could be with them — perhaps drop by for a bit and say hello, but truly, I am quite content with my mellow Easter.
My brother and I ended up driving around a bit, due to extreme boredom — and as we all know, sometimes those times are the best. It gave me a chance to check out my old stomping ground. So much has changed in five years; I am beginning to realize how long I have been gone. This realization, which will be slow and sometimes painful, is conducive to many mixed emotions. Just at the peek of these emotions this afternoon, as I drove past my high school with my little brother, Changes by David Bowie came on the radio. I love when providence shows its self in these small unseen moments, it still makes my heart skip a beat.
I’ll sum it up. I landed back in the house in which I lived for 20 years (give or take a couple) Easter morning circa 1:30 am. A month ago, all which was my life for five years was abruptly tossed up into the air (which I feel is a week description applied to the situation out of charity).
Easter is a time of rebirth in the Ressurection of our Lord. I’m here in Cleveland, where I am picking up the pieces and starting over. See what I mean by obvious?
So, its Easter Sunday. My family doesn’t do much of anything — outside of wishing each other a happy Easter — to celebrate the day. This fact put a very mellow spin on my celebration of the end of the penitential season. A few times during the day my mind drifted back to the family I lived with for a time, and imagined them all celebrating and rejoicing. Feasting like kings (and they deserve it, the family doesn’t touch a drop of meat for 40 days, they do not snack between meals, and they do not eat desert — they know how to have a good Easter). There they sat, dipping with laughter, surrounded — and I do mean surrounded; there were eleven children, five of whom have started familes of their own (I believe the family already boasts at least ten grandchildren). Nothing is wrong today. It is true, at times I wished I could be with them — perhaps drop by for a bit and say hello, but truly, I am quite content with my mellow Easter.
My brother and I ended up driving around a bit, due to extreme boredom — and as we all know, sometimes those times are the best. It gave me a chance to check out my old stomping ground. So much has changed in five years; I am beginning to realize how long I have been gone. This realization, which will be slow and sometimes painful, is conducive to many mixed emotions. Just at the peek of these emotions this afternoon, as I drove past my high school with my little brother, Changes by David Bowie came on the radio. I love when providence shows its self in these small unseen moments, it still makes my heart skip a beat.
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