Those of you who know my life well will get this choice of song!
It is dedicated to "the man at the end of the trailer"
Whom I Love!
Friday, November 27, 2015
Thursday, November 26, 2015
Like Gangbusters
YIKES! I am becoming a part of the consumerism I so heartily denounce. HSN is ruining my personal vision of myself and I am letting them so they will pay me. Where did the old me go and so quickly, at that!? One minute I am arrogantly proud of my lack of consumerism and the next I am squarely in the midst of it. Order after order after order. I get a picture of that scene from I Love Lucy when Lucy and Ethel are working on the assembly line at the candy factory. I will post it tomorrow. If you are a friend of mine and you can hold that thought until tomorrow then more power to you.
Oh but my duplicity does not end with HSN. I cannot even fish because I cannot bear to kill the fish and I cannot be near a cooler on the pier if the fish are thrashing around in their death throes. But I can eat fish and beef and chicken and pork. I just can't kill it. What does this say about me? Lawd a'mercy! My hypocrisy knows no bounds!
But it started years ago when I went to work on the military base and found myself counting, packaging and eventually ordering parts that were being made for implements of destruction. It took awhile for me to get the awareness that I was working for a part of the war machine and, oh me, as time went by I became an avid hawk. Dare I say it? All those years of hearing story after story of heroism, understanding how those beautiful war helicopters and aircraft performed and watching young men go off to foreign countries and them depending on us to do our jobs well. Our jobs saved lives. Our jobs took lives.
So what does that make me....A consumerism freak with a penchant for flesh and war mongering!! I am an AMERICAN! Hurray for the red, white and blue!
Oh well, I secretly love film noir and I do not kill any pest that stays out of my house or is not harming me, i.e. ants, spiders, snakes, etc. I leave spider webs intact. I talk back to an owl when he is in town and I carry on conversations with my cats. They win every single argument or test of wills.
The world is a wild and many splendored thing. Carpe Diem! Tomorrow I celebrate thanksgiving and then I get on the phone and sell, sell, sell!
Oh but my duplicity does not end with HSN. I cannot even fish because I cannot bear to kill the fish and I cannot be near a cooler on the pier if the fish are thrashing around in their death throes. But I can eat fish and beef and chicken and pork. I just can't kill it. What does this say about me? Lawd a'mercy! My hypocrisy knows no bounds!
But it started years ago when I went to work on the military base and found myself counting, packaging and eventually ordering parts that were being made for implements of destruction. It took awhile for me to get the awareness that I was working for a part of the war machine and, oh me, as time went by I became an avid hawk. Dare I say it? All those years of hearing story after story of heroism, understanding how those beautiful war helicopters and aircraft performed and watching young men go off to foreign countries and them depending on us to do our jobs well. Our jobs saved lives. Our jobs took lives.
So what does that make me....A consumerism freak with a penchant for flesh and war mongering!! I am an AMERICAN! Hurray for the red, white and blue!
Oh well, I secretly love film noir and I do not kill any pest that stays out of my house or is not harming me, i.e. ants, spiders, snakes, etc. I leave spider webs intact. I talk back to an owl when he is in town and I carry on conversations with my cats. They win every single argument or test of wills.
The world is a wild and many splendored thing. Carpe Diem! Tomorrow I celebrate thanksgiving and then I get on the phone and sell, sell, sell!
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Wild Ride!
First shift of a new job as an at home sales agent with HSN - The Home Shopping Channel. Feeling a wee bit nervous about taking orders for the first time. I have been working from home for about 2 1/2 years. Compared to my first day of at-home work these nerves are a breeze.
Alrighty then! Back to back calls. Hang up and phone rings again. One customer after the other and no two calls are alike. Oh the orders are often the same as the special value is popular. But the questions that arise are all different and I am winging it. I am using a laptop that is a little small for the job which hindered me at first. What really brought me up short was finding answers to the questions. Our training was adequate. There were no mock calls. No information on how to transfer calls so one lady hung up but not before taking my name. Her sense of humor was taking the evening off, I guess. I am suppose to have access to a chat line with people who will provide me with guidance but that was not working correctly so I closed out of the entire operation and called for help. I got an answer. When I, with great confidence, followed the answer I realized it was a partial answer. I am pretty sure I hung up on a nice customer. But, I rallied and took the next call.
Once I learn the ropes I am going to love this job. I love customers. I enjoy looking at the items with them and choosing colors, payment options and all that good stuff.
Still, tonight was a wild ride. HSN was selling an unbelievable amount of an entire closet organizing set of hangers, bags. There was a veritable feeding frenzy for this sale. When they ran out of that item they took $30 dollars off the price of two women's bags that were to die for, in my humble opinion, and those were flying out the door when my shift ended.
Learning all the special offers and the special, special offers is going to be tricky. Customers who are difficult to understand keep things interesting. I am certain I was interesting. Nothing ventured, Nothing gained!
Darn, if I was drinking this would be a great time to find a bar and knock back a couple and bask in the glory of the total relish for consumer goods flowing over the phone lines and websites. Unfreaking believable!
I plan to work for HSN. I won't deny that I immediately saw the belly of the beast tonight. MONEY! MONEY! MONEY! Each "special" item tossed to the audience is like a huge bucket of chum tossed into the sea. The sales force are masters at drawing the viewers into a purchase. WOW!!
I gotta find something to sell!
Alrighty then! Back to back calls. Hang up and phone rings again. One customer after the other and no two calls are alike. Oh the orders are often the same as the special value is popular. But the questions that arise are all different and I am winging it. I am using a laptop that is a little small for the job which hindered me at first. What really brought me up short was finding answers to the questions. Our training was adequate. There were no mock calls. No information on how to transfer calls so one lady hung up but not before taking my name. Her sense of humor was taking the evening off, I guess. I am suppose to have access to a chat line with people who will provide me with guidance but that was not working correctly so I closed out of the entire operation and called for help. I got an answer. When I, with great confidence, followed the answer I realized it was a partial answer. I am pretty sure I hung up on a nice customer. But, I rallied and took the next call.
Once I learn the ropes I am going to love this job. I love customers. I enjoy looking at the items with them and choosing colors, payment options and all that good stuff.
Still, tonight was a wild ride. HSN was selling an unbelievable amount of an entire closet organizing set of hangers, bags. There was a veritable feeding frenzy for this sale. When they ran out of that item they took $30 dollars off the price of two women's bags that were to die for, in my humble opinion, and those were flying out the door when my shift ended.
Learning all the special offers and the special, special offers is going to be tricky. Customers who are difficult to understand keep things interesting. I am certain I was interesting. Nothing ventured, Nothing gained!
Darn, if I was drinking this would be a great time to find a bar and knock back a couple and bask in the glory of the total relish for consumer goods flowing over the phone lines and websites. Unfreaking believable!
I plan to work for HSN. I won't deny that I immediately saw the belly of the beast tonight. MONEY! MONEY! MONEY! Each "special" item tossed to the audience is like a huge bucket of chum tossed into the sea. The sales force are masters at drawing the viewers into a purchase. WOW!!
I gotta find something to sell!
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Saturday, November 14, 2015
And Acceptance Is The Key...Blah, Blah, Blah!
Writing the title for this blog required me to suppress the feeling that I was being facetious about a sacred concept among a group I attend. I struggled for a half a second and decided that one more act of being politically correct for the sake of avoiding condescending looks and remarks would put me over the edge. Over the edge meaning I could go around people intentionally blurting out politically incorrect phrases while laughing hysterically. Goodness knows the rules of "what to say" and "how to say it" could fill a volume. Not to mention, although I am mentioning, that the time and place and tone of voice also carry weight. "Unspoken things" can place one in the middle of a moment when silence ensues followed by the beginning of a conversation or conversations about motive, lack of tact, "what were you thinking"! And, in my experience, the liberal minded are the narrow minded. I dare not respond to a liberal rant, on facebook or in conversation, with anything that smacks of an "opinion"! No, I need to correct myself; Anything that differs with their opinions.
Every topic of conversation can bring out censorship and smug side conversations...oh, I am so weary with it all. If this is what liberal looks like then where are the authentic liberals? I had no idea this topic was hanging out in my psyche. I can say whatever I want to say, of course. No one has censored me to this point. Why am I spun up about it?
I have been daydreaming of far away places.
The indelible repetition of the"J.D. Wentworth" commercial on t.v. has created an incessant repetition of their song into my brain. Perversely enough, I only remember part of the song but it has planted itself into my psyche. I sing it randomly and robustly. The actors sing that song robustly. Unfortunately this little diddy might come to life in me while shopping or in a meeting or anywhere. I have blurted out the song when with other people and they have no clue about "J.D. Wentworth". I don't even know what kind of business they are in...lawyer or loan sharks. It is one of those two. Oh, I just heard a piece of the song, "...and I need cash now!!". They are loan sharks. That is worse. That is much worse. I have a loan shark's advertisement song stuck in my head. ARGH-H-H! Say it isn't so!
Meanwhile in a tiny tea room someone, somewhere is preparing to enjoy the flavor of an exotic tea. The room is dimly lit. Although it is mid-day and the sun is high in the sky the tea room is darkened. Outside the hot,humid air confounds any effort to seek relief. In the tea room the air holds a mixture of exotic spices. It flows through the room in gentle, undulating swirls. An old, large fan with blades the shape of huge palm leaves turns overhead. Conversation is hushed. Time slows. Deals are cut. Love is found. Love is lost. And so, someone, somewhere cradles a cup of fragrant tea, brings the rim of the cup to their lips and quietly, delicately draws the first sip into their mouth. The pleasure is sublime, hypnotic and unique. Ah-h-h! Someone, somewhere
Every topic of conversation can bring out censorship and smug side conversations...oh, I am so weary with it all. If this is what liberal looks like then where are the authentic liberals? I had no idea this topic was hanging out in my psyche. I can say whatever I want to say, of course. No one has censored me to this point. Why am I spun up about it?
I have been daydreaming of far away places.
The indelible repetition of the"J.D. Wentworth" commercial on t.v. has created an incessant repetition of their song into my brain. Perversely enough, I only remember part of the song but it has planted itself into my psyche. I sing it randomly and robustly. The actors sing that song robustly. Unfortunately this little diddy might come to life in me while shopping or in a meeting or anywhere. I have blurted out the song when with other people and they have no clue about "J.D. Wentworth". I don't even know what kind of business they are in...lawyer or loan sharks. It is one of those two. Oh, I just heard a piece of the song, "...and I need cash now!!". They are loan sharks. That is worse. That is much worse. I have a loan shark's advertisement song stuck in my head. ARGH-H-H! Say it isn't so!
Meanwhile in a tiny tea room someone, somewhere is preparing to enjoy the flavor of an exotic tea. The room is dimly lit. Although it is mid-day and the sun is high in the sky the tea room is darkened. Outside the hot,humid air confounds any effort to seek relief. In the tea room the air holds a mixture of exotic spices. It flows through the room in gentle, undulating swirls. An old, large fan with blades the shape of huge palm leaves turns overhead. Conversation is hushed. Time slows. Deals are cut. Love is found. Love is lost. And so, someone, somewhere cradles a cup of fragrant tea, brings the rim of the cup to their lips and quietly, delicately draws the first sip into their mouth. The pleasure is sublime, hypnotic and unique. Ah-h-h! Someone, somewhere
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Magical Thinking
Spent a little time on the Wayfair website recently. my mind , once again, began to divide itself. One side absorbed the beautiful things for home decor and began planning to do this or that in our home. The other side of my mind giggled and smirked. It has been "never" that I have actually spent time decorating anything. The idea that I can is magical thinking. Decorating is not in my DNA. Enjoying other people's skills in that area presents me with opposing emotions. I love what they have done to their home and enjoy seeing it. I resent their expertise and bemoan my lack of skill in that area. Believe me, it is not in me to match colors, think about how to design a room to be comfortable or to even care. I would be perfectly happy living in a hotel or motel. But the Wayfair website tempted me mightily. Once in a great while I look at home furnishings and read articles on painting and planning a room. But it ain't happening. I cannot even put my hair up or use a curling iron with any degree of skill. What would make me think I could envision a room and design it? The truth is that, left to my own devices, my room would probably look like a bright, four year old made the choices. I don't think that is a bad thing but enough of my girlfriends have given me "the eye" on that idea so I am making the assumption that type of decorations for a 64 year old woman are not a step in the right direction.
My room looks more like a mad scientist inhabits it. But just a crazy ole grandma with a pinch too much of the 60's and 70's in her blood lives in that room. See, I can't give a toot about designing a room because I don't give a toot about it. I do like pulling out the low self-esteem, "I am not a good woman. I can't get past wanting to decorate my space like a kid's space." script once in awhile. Nobody listens anymore. They have heard it all before and just listen as I walk by dragging a doomsday kinda blues around with me. If I had the money I would hire someone to come in and design my house to suit each season. You know, rotate the décor in a professional "I learned this in school" manner. When a flying donkey and a flying pig pass one another over our property I will have the money to hire someon or maybe I will spend that money on a cool vacation spot or on a piece of property or I just might give it away. I might think of hiring someone and forget to think about it and then remember to think about it. But, by the time I made a decision the money would be gone. Oops!
Oh, sweet wonder! I stepped out of my mother's house last night, late at night, and Mr. Owl sang out from a perch in the nearby woods. Do you know how long it has been since I heard him? I thought he had moved out of town because of all the "people" activity in our area. And maybe he was just passing through...maybe he knew I needed him to spend an evening in our part of the woods and to hear him sing out into the darkness. His call was strong, melodious and beautiful! All I could do is smile to myself as that familiar since of oneness and comfort I feel with Mr. Owl filled my heart.
Tidbits from today - Sunday - been writing this post for a number of days. Not in any sort of order ( like my lifestyle )
1. On my way home from Sea Level this evening I stood on my brakes to avoid hitting three small possums. They scurried across the road at full speed. It was dark by that time. I mean DARK cause it is a country, two-lane road and I was in a stretch where no man-made lights ,other than the headlights of my car, shone. I never think of being in danger when driving at night. Well, maybe I did a couple of times on interstate highways in the wee hours of the morning. Interstates seem more sinister than country two-lane roads.
2. There was a post on Facebook with a night photo of a cougar in the woods. Someone had remarked that we probably did not have them in our area. Anyway, I clicked on the video and that darn critter let out the howl of a thousand cats, primal in intensity and frightening. My little cat, sleeping on the back of the couch behind me jumped a foot into the air and took off. Two of my other cats woke up fully and began looking in all directions for whatever made that insane noise. It was too funny but I had to apologize to the baby cat cause he thought he was living his last few seconds!
3. My grandson, nine years old, has decided to like rap music and to dance with his upper body while trying to sing along. Impossible since the words are coming so fast from the performer's mouth that only a couple of words even make sense. But I listened to about 20 minutes of that rap music and suggested he find some rap that did not have all the BIG bad words in it. Instead he found the world's fastest rapper and both of our jaws dropped. Not one word of that man's rap made any sense to me. Guinness Book of World Records were there with some kinda contraption to measure the number of words in one minute. It was over 3,000.Wowser!
4. Realizing that my house is in a horrible mess. I listened to a podcast about ADHD adults and their difficulty organizing and following through. The speaker offered techniques for those of us who are severely challenged in the organizational department. I thought how wonderful it would be to know where my stuff is after I lay it down. I will make a list! I will make a list I will make a list!
5. Realizing I am not mad or sick. I am just me. Phew! Feels good.
Done! Posting!
My room looks more like a mad scientist inhabits it. But just a crazy ole grandma with a pinch too much of the 60's and 70's in her blood lives in that room. See, I can't give a toot about designing a room because I don't give a toot about it. I do like pulling out the low self-esteem, "I am not a good woman. I can't get past wanting to decorate my space like a kid's space." script once in awhile. Nobody listens anymore. They have heard it all before and just listen as I walk by dragging a doomsday kinda blues around with me. If I had the money I would hire someone to come in and design my house to suit each season. You know, rotate the décor in a professional "I learned this in school" manner. When a flying donkey and a flying pig pass one another over our property I will have the money to hire someon or maybe I will spend that money on a cool vacation spot or on a piece of property or I just might give it away. I might think of hiring someone and forget to think about it and then remember to think about it. But, by the time I made a decision the money would be gone. Oops!
Oh, sweet wonder! I stepped out of my mother's house last night, late at night, and Mr. Owl sang out from a perch in the nearby woods. Do you know how long it has been since I heard him? I thought he had moved out of town because of all the "people" activity in our area. And maybe he was just passing through...maybe he knew I needed him to spend an evening in our part of the woods and to hear him sing out into the darkness. His call was strong, melodious and beautiful! All I could do is smile to myself as that familiar since of oneness and comfort I feel with Mr. Owl filled my heart.
Tidbits from today - Sunday - been writing this post for a number of days. Not in any sort of order ( like my lifestyle )
1. On my way home from Sea Level this evening I stood on my brakes to avoid hitting three small possums. They scurried across the road at full speed. It was dark by that time. I mean DARK cause it is a country, two-lane road and I was in a stretch where no man-made lights ,other than the headlights of my car, shone. I never think of being in danger when driving at night. Well, maybe I did a couple of times on interstate highways in the wee hours of the morning. Interstates seem more sinister than country two-lane roads.
2. There was a post on Facebook with a night photo of a cougar in the woods. Someone had remarked that we probably did not have them in our area. Anyway, I clicked on the video and that darn critter let out the howl of a thousand cats, primal in intensity and frightening. My little cat, sleeping on the back of the couch behind me jumped a foot into the air and took off. Two of my other cats woke up fully and began looking in all directions for whatever made that insane noise. It was too funny but I had to apologize to the baby cat cause he thought he was living his last few seconds!
3. My grandson, nine years old, has decided to like rap music and to dance with his upper body while trying to sing along. Impossible since the words are coming so fast from the performer's mouth that only a couple of words even make sense. But I listened to about 20 minutes of that rap music and suggested he find some rap that did not have all the BIG bad words in it. Instead he found the world's fastest rapper and both of our jaws dropped. Not one word of that man's rap made any sense to me. Guinness Book of World Records were there with some kinda contraption to measure the number of words in one minute. It was over 3,000.Wowser!
4. Realizing that my house is in a horrible mess. I listened to a podcast about ADHD adults and their difficulty organizing and following through. The speaker offered techniques for those of us who are severely challenged in the organizational department. I thought how wonderful it would be to know where my stuff is after I lay it down. I will make a list! I will make a list I will make a list!
5. Realizing I am not mad or sick. I am just me. Phew! Feels good.
Done! Posting!
Monday, November 2, 2015
Random Stream
Random stream of consciousness
streetlamp light reflecting in the rain water pooled on the dark pavement. memories coming in pieces and snippets of shimmering, wet pavement in any number of towns and a couple of foreign countries. rain water pouring to the earth. a 28 day deluge in Taipei, when the rain came straight down in foggy light grey sheets. when rain became ordinary and life went on as usual. finally surrendering to the pouring rain, giving myself over to the relentless water pouring from the sky, remember feeling a sense of loss when the weather cleared up. when I was a child we lived in Africa and I remember watching the rain come towards our house. It also hung as if it were a long, grey wall and it moved much faster than I believed it would move. I stood waiting and then ran ahead of the curtain of rain but it caught up with me before I reached home.
A different kind of rain story set in San Diego many years ago. With friends and getting high on mescaline. topsy-turvy evening. I wandered down to the sea wall and sat with my back to it, pulled my poncho up over my head and tried my best cover myself from the rain. a light rain falling...me asking folks as they walked by about the rain, wiping rain from my forehead, finally getting up to walk back to the house. rubbing my arms and face wondering how they dried so quickly. being told by others that it wasn't raining and had not been raining. took me a bunch of years to see myself hunched over with my back against the seawall, feeling the rain and asking others how they liked the rain. took me awhile to realize that I acted like a drug addict yet I felt so innocent of trying to act like a drug addict. thinking even years after about that night and having sorrow. wondering what was I thinking back in the day. who let me wander off without noticing. who knew I was gone. I dunno. there were many nights and days when no one was watching and no one asked.
Taiwan, oh the smells and sound of the orient! As time passed I did not notice them anymore. I notice them now, years later, when a smell or sound takes me back to Taiwan. I fill with nostalgia. I crave to return. Then I know that everyone I knew has gone and the city has changed dramatically and I crave to return to a time in my life rather than a place.
I feel as if I have been pulled through a keyhole. An intense storm has passed. I hear rumbling thunder and catch a glimpse of lightening in the distance. I am being metaphorical here...just so you know...Far be it from me to use metaphors that tie together smoothly. Why would the keyhole image relate at all to the intense storm? The point being that life has been intense ( just thought of tents and an insane campsite off of the Skyline Drive. Winds roaring up from the valley below blew down all of our tents. We scrambled to get ourselves and our belongings into the vehicle. The sunrise was the most magnificent I have ever seen. Multiple colors announced the rising of the sun. The sky filled with glorious hues of soft loveliness. It was as if the earth and the sky had made a deal. The wind would rush up the side of that mountain and over our campsite but just as we were leaving the sunrise would greet us with splendor.
I have many camping stories. If I remember I will write about a few of them. Everything seems to have been in another lifetime. Maybe that is a kind of reincarnation. As I age I know that my memories are real but they are so far removed from me that I have a sense of evolving from age to age. I experience the weird sensation of remembering one person while being another. Or maybe I am still not good at staying attached. I doubt if it matters at all. Soon enough I will be gone from here and will have little concern for how I use to be those many years ago. What an odd feeling!
streetlamp light reflecting in the rain water pooled on the dark pavement. memories coming in pieces and snippets of shimmering, wet pavement in any number of towns and a couple of foreign countries. rain water pouring to the earth. a 28 day deluge in Taipei, when the rain came straight down in foggy light grey sheets. when rain became ordinary and life went on as usual. finally surrendering to the pouring rain, giving myself over to the relentless water pouring from the sky, remember feeling a sense of loss when the weather cleared up. when I was a child we lived in Africa and I remember watching the rain come towards our house. It also hung as if it were a long, grey wall and it moved much faster than I believed it would move. I stood waiting and then ran ahead of the curtain of rain but it caught up with me before I reached home.
A different kind of rain story set in San Diego many years ago. With friends and getting high on mescaline. topsy-turvy evening. I wandered down to the sea wall and sat with my back to it, pulled my poncho up over my head and tried my best cover myself from the rain. a light rain falling...me asking folks as they walked by about the rain, wiping rain from my forehead, finally getting up to walk back to the house. rubbing my arms and face wondering how they dried so quickly. being told by others that it wasn't raining and had not been raining. took me a bunch of years to see myself hunched over with my back against the seawall, feeling the rain and asking others how they liked the rain. took me awhile to realize that I acted like a drug addict yet I felt so innocent of trying to act like a drug addict. thinking even years after about that night and having sorrow. wondering what was I thinking back in the day. who let me wander off without noticing. who knew I was gone. I dunno. there were many nights and days when no one was watching and no one asked.
Taiwan, oh the smells and sound of the orient! As time passed I did not notice them anymore. I notice them now, years later, when a smell or sound takes me back to Taiwan. I fill with nostalgia. I crave to return. Then I know that everyone I knew has gone and the city has changed dramatically and I crave to return to a time in my life rather than a place.
I feel as if I have been pulled through a keyhole. An intense storm has passed. I hear rumbling thunder and catch a glimpse of lightening in the distance. I am being metaphorical here...just so you know...Far be it from me to use metaphors that tie together smoothly. Why would the keyhole image relate at all to the intense storm? The point being that life has been intense ( just thought of tents and an insane campsite off of the Skyline Drive. Winds roaring up from the valley below blew down all of our tents. We scrambled to get ourselves and our belongings into the vehicle. The sunrise was the most magnificent I have ever seen. Multiple colors announced the rising of the sun. The sky filled with glorious hues of soft loveliness. It was as if the earth and the sky had made a deal. The wind would rush up the side of that mountain and over our campsite but just as we were leaving the sunrise would greet us with splendor.
I have many camping stories. If I remember I will write about a few of them. Everything seems to have been in another lifetime. Maybe that is a kind of reincarnation. As I age I know that my memories are real but they are so far removed from me that I have a sense of evolving from age to age. I experience the weird sensation of remembering one person while being another. Or maybe I am still not good at staying attached. I doubt if it matters at all. Soon enough I will be gone from here and will have little concern for how I use to be those many years ago. What an odd feeling!
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