You've got a good sense of space and how the world around you looks.
You can close your eyes and "see" images. You have innate artistic talent.
An eye for color and shapes, you're also a natural designer.
Since you think in pictures, visual aids and demonstartions help you learn best.
From a lady in England:
When you call me, you will now have a menu of options on my new voice mail system to choose from.
Please press the buttons as follows:
1. To make an appointment to see me.
2. To query a missing payment.
3. To transfer the call to my living room in case I am there.
4. To transfer the call to my bedroom in case I am sleeping.
5. To transfer the call to my toilet in case I am attending to nature.
6. To transfer the call to my mobile phone if I am not at home.
7. To leave a message on my computer, a password to access my computer
is required. Password will be communicated at a later date to the Authorized Contact.
8. To return to the main menu and to listen to options 1 through 7.
9. To make a general complaint or inquiry.
The contact will then be put on hold, pending the attention of my automated answering service. While this may, on occasion, involve a lengthy wait, uplifting music will play for the duration of the call.
Query: What kind of uplifting music would you suggest the lady transmit? I nominate Elvis.
A lady in my demograhic (codgerette, junior class) recently confided in me that an attractive man had made a pass at her. She decided against taking him up on it, because, in her words: "No way am I going to take my clothes off in front of a man again."
I undestand where she is coming from. It's not taking off clothes that bothers me--something filmy in the negligee department hides a multitude of sins. However, something tells me that in the course of a hot and steamy affair, I would have to take off my shoes. The party of the second part would then see my feet. Ugh.
I wasn't born with ugly feet. Once upon a time they were toe-suckingly gorgeous, but years of dancing, walking, and wearing painful but glamorous shoes have taken their toll.
Bottom line. I'll keep my shoes on, along with my other apparel. Sigh! The end of romance.
and I don't even understand their system. It sucks.
I'm not good at the library game, despite having done time as a librarian. Maybe because I get an A+ for taking out books, but a C- for returning them. The overdue books are in the laundry hamper, under a pile of catalogs, anywhere but where they belong. Anyway, I usually owe the library a lot of money.
I find it's actually cheaper to buy at Barnes & Noble.
And donate the books to the library when I'm done with them.
Last night I couldn't sleep--at all. Normally I would be online, sharing my witty apercus with my fan base, but Verizon was down. Here is how I spent the 6 hours:
1. Tried to solve my internet problem on the phone with someone from India, who spoke perfect but unintelligible English. PFI tells me the problem is with my computer and I should call Dell. (At least that's what I think she told me. She could have been sharing a recipe for chicken tikka, for all I know.)
2. Checked Mr Charm's computer, which also was not able to access Al Gore's internet.
3. Called Verizon and reached another flawless English speaker with an accent thicker than Mississippi mud. Spent time plugging and unplugging modem, router, and computer while lying on the floor. Got back on phone and discovered the phone did not work. Impasse.
4. Checked TCM (nothing good) and then settled down to watch repeats of the Fox News evening lineup. Watched John Kerry's faux pas 117 times. Switched to local news, which repeated JFK's blooper and discussed its influence on the Pennsylvania senate race.
5. Ate most of the Halloween candy that was left over because no-one liked it. I didn't like it either.
6. Feeling sick to my stomach, threw away rest of horrible Halloween candy.
7. Tried to figure out which I hated more, Verizon, Comcast, or Dish Network. Could not decide.
8. Watched Home Shopping Network. Watched QCV. Passed up unbeatable offers for really remarkable one-of-a-kind jewelry.
9. Searched for sleeping pills left over from last bout of insomnia.
10. When sun came up, went to bed.
Craig is willing to give John Kerry the benefit of the doubt:
After only hearing what Kerry said at the rally once, I was willing to refrain from dismissing his excuse out of hand....The point here, though, is.....so what? It doesn’t make him any less of a despicable human being....
So Kerry and the Dem flacks who are all over TV are saying that it was actually meant to be about Bush. He was calling the President of the United States an ignorant, uneducated loser. Oh. Well, that makes everything better. Never mind the fact that Bush had better grades at Yale than Johnny Einstein here....
I hope this spurs the base to get out and vote. Having these vultures in power would be an unmitigated disaster for the country.
Damn!
Air force wife is deserting her post!
No doubt she has good reasons. That doesn't mean I won't miss her.
I enjoyed AFW not just because she is a military wife, but because of her attractive personality and quirky views. I loved reading about her family, her life on the base, her crazy California relatives, and of course, her shoes. Her writing just got better and better.
AFW! A warning! If you don't continue to visit my blog, and comment,I am going to do what any mature person would do: hold my breath until I turn blue!
You have been warned.
Given the evidence, I would have to say yes.
I should have known better....It happened in San Francisco. I was dining with four delightful people when I inadvertently disclosed my deepest, most shameful secret.
I don't believe in global warming.
I couldn't have gotten a more shocked reaction if I had offered my grandmother a ham sandwich. Four shocked pairs of eyes. Four horrified gasps. A few feeble attempts to reason with me, then polite disbelief. No-one suggested burning me at the stake, but that was because they didn't want to disturb the ozone layer.
Can't I not believe in global warming? Is it the number one doctrine of the Church of Ecology?
It all reminds me of the last non-disaster that did not overtake us, namely the end of life as we know it which was supposed to occur at the millenium. One of my friends spent 1999 in a swivet because all the computers were going to go down on January 1, 2000. Her preparations for this gathered force as fall '99 approached.
Every second or third day Anne or her husband would withdraw the maximum amount allowed from their bank account, until they had a tidy sum under the mattress. Anne pleaded with her daughter and son-in-law to purchase a generator, and when they refused, she bought them one anyway.
On January 1, 2000, what happened? Nothing. Life went on, and so did the world's computers.
On January 2, 2000, Anne and her husband sheepishly returned $6,000 to their bank account.
I never heard what happened to the generator.
Now I have to go buy some candy. 
I'd hate to have his electric bill.
Criticizing Michael J Fox is like kicking your dog. He's cute, he's sick, he's lovable. But suppose Fox kicks his dog? Are we not allowed to say anything because he has the moral high ground?
Is he allowed to make a manipulative and misleading commercial because he suffers from an illness? Are we not allowed to discuss the merits of his argument?
I'm willing to concede that the man is a highly engaging actor who is suffering from a deadly disease. But this whole stem cell controversy has been removed from the scientific realm and is being framed as a moral issue, which it is not. Stem cell research, embryonic and adult, is legal in all 50 states. There is no law against it. Several states actually fund it, including basket cases like California and New Jersey which would be well advised to spend their money in some more worthy endeavor. The actual result of this funding is to put taxpayers' money in the hands of scientists who want government grant money to carry out their research instead of spending private funds.
The jury is still out on stem cell research. If funds are needed, who not ask George Soros for the money--or Bill Gates? Or some Saudi princeling who has millions to throw around? There are also plenty of private charities who give out money for medical research. I guess it's easier to get it from the government.
However, back to my question: who is immune to criticism? Besides RoPers, I mean.
Here's a partial list, just so you know.
Cindy "absolute moral authority" Sheehan; Michael Berg, peace lover whose son was beheaded and who wears a kefiyeh around his neck; Max Cleland, war hero who was injured during a beer run; Lynne Stewart, professional traitor, attorney, and cancer sufferer.
| You Are a "Don't Tread On Me" Libertarian | 
You distrust the government, are fiercely independent, and don't belong in either party.
Religion and politics should never mix, in your opinion... and you feel opressed by both.
You don't want the government to cramp your self made style. Or anyone else's for that matter.
You're proud to say that you're pro-choice on absolutely everything! |
Annoyed librarian is, well, annoyed:
... "School of the Future" in Philadelphia, PA ... doesn't have any books, and doesn't want any! That's for schools of the past! They also don't have any pens and paper, just laptops, thanks to Bill Gates. Not having any books or pens or paper is supposed somehow to help the underprivileged children of Philadelphia. ...
In the Philadelphia school, all the classrooms look like corporate conference rooms, and the students all work on "practical problems," which I guess means they take "consumer math" instead of algebra and write Powerpoint presentations instead of essays. If this is the "school of the future," God help us all.
The people in education are so open-minded that their brains fall out. Every few years there is a new craze that is going to solve the problems in education. Once upon a time it was open classrooms. Tht didn't work. Neither did small class size, a nostrum much loved by the teachers' unions. (More jobs for teachers--it makes sense. To them.) Then there is the campaign to pay more money to the knuckleheads now in charge, in the hopes that if you pay them better they will perform better. Sure they will! Right after I get nominated for Miss America or when pigs fly, whatever comes first.
Yes indeed!
From the Wilmington News Journal:
T he Delaware Attorney General’s race is in a statistical dead heat, with nearly one-fourth of voters still undecided, an independent poll released today shows.
The poll by Fairleigh Dickinson (N.J.) University’s PublicMind institute found 35 percent of voters support Republican Ferris Wharton, and 34 percent pick Democrat Beau Biden. Why must the spawn of politicians run for office? Frankly, I'm sick of the Kennedys, the Bidens, the Chaffees, the Reids (as in Harry), etc. Why can't they find honest work? Take Patrick Kennedy, for instance. He has all the makings of a fine manual laborer. If he can master the necessary computer skills, he could serve honorably as a cashier at Target. He could be a crossing guard. The possibilities are endless. I feel sorry for my grandchildren, who will probably be given a choice between Chelsea Clinton and Jenna or Barbara Bush. It doesn't have to be that way. These individuals should post their resumes on Monster.com--I understand you can get jobs that way--and make an honest living. Never happen.
and a very interesting collection it is. This is number 214!
| You Are a Frappacino | 
At your best, you are: fun loving, sweet, and modern
At your worst, you are: childish and over indulgent
You drink coffee when: you're craving something sweet
Your caffeine addiction level: low |
It seems to me that at least once a year I find myself sitting with my mouth open, being tortured by one or more dentists. It's not for nothing that various horrors are described as "worse than a root canal."
Well, I'm well past the root canal phase. Never mind how I got there, but I am now condemned to wear a temporary, removable bridge for the next six months. The nasty thing feels something like a gigantic hunk of chewing gum stuck to the roof of my mouth. Or like an enemy alien has come to live in my mouth. Only worse. I hate it. It's also funny-looking, with a long canine tooth that does not match my own teeth and makes me look like a vampire. Great for Halloween.
I have to take care of this obscene object. It must be kept in water, like a live goldfish. I'm not supposed to chew anything hard. Believe me, there is no temptation to do so. I don't think I will ever attempt to chew again.
Now I know why my grandmother hated to wear her false teeth. She generally kept them in a pocket of her housedress except on ceremonial occasions.
Tim Blair denounces a sheik who thinks a woman who is raped is to blame because she is immodest:
The sheik...said: “If she was in her room, in her home, in her hijab, no problem would have occurred."
According to Pascal: "All man's miseries come from his inability to sit quietly in his room."
He preceded this, however, with: "All generalizations, including this one, are false."
So I guess Blaise P and the holy man are not on the same page after all. Oh, well.
A nice snippet from the Kenneth Branagh version of Henry V. Shakespeare's words are stirring:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. Somehow pacificism doesn't move hearts as martial virtues do. As George Orwell said, boys play with toy soldiers; toy pacifists will not do. What was this battle all about? Who knows? A bit of France won by England, then won back. By all accounts, Henry V was a dunderhead. But so what? He still lives, and will, as long as Shakespeare is read and English is spoken.
We can be mean.
Another triumph for the codger/codgerette demographic.
Remember her?
These people have brains?
I know it's mean of me, so don't write and tell me that I am not being fair to these folks. That is exactly the point. I'm tired of trying to be fair.
How many brains does it take to:
Celebrate your independence by shooting each other and torching buildings?
Destroy greenhouses built by Israelis, which were given to you in hopes you could make a living?
Shoot bullets into the air on festive occasions, sometimes resulting in the celebrants being killed?
Be happy your son or daughter blew him/herself up? Rejoice at the funeral?
I think the brains departed long ago. If ever there were a people unfitted for self-government, it's this bunch.
But the judge says it's okay.
A judge in Riverside, Calif., has dismissed an indecent-exposure charge against a woman accused of sitting naked on her sun deck in a bid to "drive away" a teenage boy who was making too much noise playing basketball next door.
Only, unfortunately, this picture is of French Muslim youth rioting in France.
Police there are calling this an infitada:
One small police union claims officers are facing a "permanent intifada." Police injuries have risen in the year since the wave of violence.
National police reported 2,458 cases of violence against officers in the first six months of the year, on pace to top the 4,246 cases recorded for all of 2005 and the 3,842 in 2004. Firefighters and rescue workers have also been targeted - and some now receive police escorts in such areas.
On Sunday, a band of about 30 youths, some wearing masks, forced passengers out of a bus in a southern Paris suburb in broad daylight Sunday, set it on fire, then stoned firefighters who came to the rescue....
More broadly, worsening violence in France testifies to Europe's growing struggle to integrate its ethnic minorities. Some mainstream European politicians - adopting positions previously confined largely to far-right fringes - are suggesting that the minorities themselves are not doing enough to adapt to European mores.
[]
Ethnic integration and violence against police are both becoming issues in the campaign for the French presidency. Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy, the leading contender on the right, said this month that those who do not love France do not have to stay, echoing a longtime slogan of the extreme-right National Front: "France, love it or leave it."
Michel Thooris, head of the small Action Police union, claims that the new violence is taking on an Islamic fundamentalist tinge.
"Many youths, many arsonists, many vandals behind the violence do it to cries of 'Allah Akbar' (God is Great) when our police cars are stoned," he said in an interview. []
Sadio Sylla, an unemployed mother of three, watched the Oct. 13 ambush of the police patrol in Epinay-sur-Seine from her second-floor window. She, other witnesses and police union officials said up to 50 masked youths surged out from behind trees.
One of the three officers needed 30 stitches to his face after being struck by a rock.
The attack was one of at least four gang beatings of police in Parisian suburbs since Sept. 19. Early Friday, a dozen hooded people hurled stones, iron bars and bottles filled with gasoline at two police vehicles in Aulnay-sous-Bois, a flashpoint of last year's riots, said Guillaume Godet, a city hall spokesman. One officer required three stitches to his head.
[]
Police unions suspect that the recent attacks may be an attempt to spark new riots.
"We are getting the impression these youths want a 'remake' of what happened last year," said Fred Lagache, national secretary of the Alliance police union. "The youths are trying to cause a police error to justify chaos."
It must be a great year for Renault sales.
There are two kinds of people: people who like to be prompt, who would show up for their own hanging ten minutes early in case there is some last minute paperwork; and the other sort.
I myself am a promptie, as you can guess. My son-in-law is a promptie, too. My daughter, his wife, not. This leads to some interesting exchanges.
My mother was definitely of the non-prompt sort. My Uncle Max, her brother, was compulsive about being, not on time, but early.
So Max would tell my mother to be ready by say, 7:30. He would arrive at 7:15, to find she had just gotten into the bathtub. The more he fumed, the slower she got, as she stopped getting dressed to discuss the subject with him. Then she would have to: leave a note for the cleaning lady; find her glasses; find her other glasses; find her purse; and call my brother to tell him she was leaving now. Then she got into the car, but discovered she had mislaid her keys and rushed back into the house.
This sort of thing only went on for about 50 years. Neither one adjusted or compromised. He was early, she was late, until she died.
I've been saying this, but not nearly as well:
So we as a nation — and I’m speaking of the collective awareness, here, the wisdom of the crowd — knew only that we were invading a foreign country. We didn’t know why, and we didn’t know what was going to happen next. And today, more than three years on, we still don’t know why and we still don’t know what’s going to happen next.
Now, there are many conflicting opinions about the root cause of this colossal failure of leadership. ...
I don’t have the foggiest idea why the President failed to lead the country into war, or once into it why he failed to lead us through it. Hell, given the state of the press and the vitriolic hatred of the President since his first disputed and messy election, maybe nothing he did or said could have gotten the job done. You can’t inform or persuade people who aren’t listening.
But that doesn’t excuse not trying.
but only in Israel and Quebec.
Oh, that's all right then.
Courtesy of towncrier.
The ferry from Tiburon to Angel Island
Air Force Wife blames her poor driving performance partly on shoes:
And, of course, one part of my brain is always thinking about shoes.
I admit to spending many hours and a lot of money on shoes, but I have my reasons.
1. None of the shoes I currently own are comfortable. They fit beautifully in the store, but some kind of metamorphosis (sp?) overtakes them in the closet. My feet change shape, sometimes overnight, like magic and the shoes don't fit. They could be too large on Monday and okay on Tuesday; they could rub against part of my foot; they could just generally hang off my feet and refuse to be worn. My shoes are the terrorists of my closet.
2. You need a different pair of shoes for every outfit. As I have said, les shoes juste are the essential ingredient in the get-up. The right shoes: dynamite appearance; wrong shoes: hopeless. Might as well stay home.
3. Storage problems. I have a rule: I cannot have more pairs of shoes than I have closet space to put them. This rule is often broken, but I keep a bag in the corner of the room for the Good Will, and I try to weed the shoe collection frequently. After all, I only have two feet.
4. I usually wear the same (fairly comfortable) shoes every day for a week, then become tired of them. They start to look shopworn, somehow. Old shoes---don't they look awful? Would you ever wear someone else's shoes? Ugh.
Those people like Jackie O and Imelda Marcus, who order each pair of shoes in every color--how do they make shoe decisions?
Here we go go again.
Anti-Semitic incidents have proliferated in France in recent times, but the news seldom makes it across the Atlantic and when it does, it must still fight to be heard above the constant melodrama of constant trivia. A Jewish sports club in Toulouse attacked with Molotov cocktails; in Bondy, 15 men beat up members of a Jewish soccer team with metal bars and sticks; the bus that takes Jewish children to school in Aubervilliers attacked thrice in the past 14 months, synagogues in Strasbourg and Marseilles and a Jewish school in Creteil firebombed in recent weeks; in Toulouse, a gunman opened fire -- all ignored in the mainstream media in the U.S.
The metropolitan Paris police tabulated 10 to 12 anti-Jewish incidents per day in the past 30 days throughout the country. French Jews are emigrating to Israel because it's safer.
The case of the dog that did not bark in the nighttime: Dick Cheney sinisterly (is that a word? it is now) does not repeat a story he has told at least 67 times:
After a sustained and rollicking ovation that inspires a rare smile with both sides of his mouth, Mr. Cheney starts into a variant of the same talk he has delivered literally hundreds of times....
He skips the bit about how he had been the lone congressman from Wyoming — “It was a small delegation, but it was quality,” which he has told at least 67 times as vice president. Obviously, there's dirty work afoot.
Really good analysis at lead and gold:
1. [T]he Bush administration has been inept at the art of the deal. It capitulates on some issues but never gets the quid pro quo that allows it to achieve any of its conservative objectives.
2. On some of the biggest issues, the administration's actions have not matched its rhetoric. Take the revelations about secret operations in the War on Terror. The right was outraged. I suspect that a majority of Americans are opposed to intelligence officials who break their oaths and leak secrets to the Times and the Post. Yet, there is no indication that Bush and his appointees are serious about dealing with the arrogant bureaucrats who broke the law.
Net message of #1 and #2: The Bush style is to placate his enemies and ignore his base. (It may be a family trait.) There's more. Read it.
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