It is well known that an awful lot of bloggers are cat lovers. Dean Landsman does a great job of proving that fact. Like so many of us, he’s a pushover for sweet helplessness
Cats
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Clara is Dead
My next door neighbor, Clara, died last week, alone in her small apartment, with only her cat to witness the second most crucial moment of her life. When a friend couldn
Metaphorically Maternal
Among his ongoing commentaries about the politics and poker in America today, bix links to Ellen Goodman
Some Thoughts on Boredom
In a post on a new “humans first” weblog started by Jeneane Sessum (the originator of other weblogs such as Gonzo Engaged and Blog Sisters), Tom Matrullo says
Here’s a human thing: boredom. Ennui. acedia. Spleen. taedium vitae. It is a great teacher and rewards study. If humans saw more deeply into ennui, perhaps they would have less tolerance for that which kills the spirit.
Existential ennui. Diminished spirit. Borrrredddommm. What happens to us that we find ourselves here? Of course, what I mean is, what’s happening to me that I find myself here? I am bored with dancing. Bored with writing about dancing. Bored with reading the kinds of novels I’ve always loved. Bored with the people I know (except for my kids; they have never bored me and I doubt if they ever will).
My dreams take place in complex worlds that seem more real and much less boring than my waking times. My dreams are like watching Lifetime television from 8 to 11 every Sunday night — all of those women struggling to stay healthy, stay ethical, stay compassionate, stay authentic, stay loving, stay alive. Stay Alive.
I used to find the world around me inexhaustibly engaging. Maybe it’s that I’m now finding the world around me frighteningly alienating. Is it age? Is it the Age?
Maybe it’s not boredom. Maybe it’s the fear of/the feeling of being surrounded, overwhelmed by the inhuman. Maybe one of the human responses to feeling inhumanly alienated is to retreat into boredom. Into watching Lifetime television from 8 to 11 on Sundays. And Buffy. And Alias. And Judging Amy and Crossing Jordan and………
Give me a nice small pond
My horoscope from Rob Brezny’s Free Will Astrology:
PISCES (Feb. 19-March 20): “Dear Dream Doctor: I dreamt I
was caring for a beautiful golden fish in a room with two
aquariums. The fish kept leaping from one aquarium to another,
and my job was to scoop it up and return it to the water if it
missed. I felt bad for it because it couldn’t decide which
aquarium it liked better. One was big and classy but sterile, and
the other was small and funky but had lots of cool castles and
toys. As soon as the fish jumped into one aquarium, it was
already looking longingly at the one it had just left. What does
my dream mean, O Wise Oracle?
As Time Goes By
The title of this post plays on many levels for me. Certainly, the tv series with Judi Dench is a favorite of mine, mainly because it portrays a relationship between an adult woman and man with a realistic and comfortable combination of humor and respect.
Over here and here and here, there are still conversations going on about sexism, and Drucilla links from Blog Sisters to a supposed study of women abusing men. I wonder if relationships between men and women will ever find that realistic and comfortable combination of humor and respect.
Time is also going by on this blog without much going on — mostly because time seems to be going by so fast in my nonblog world. I swear, time goes by faster as you get older. I know that there’s so physical reason for this; I know that there are some psychological explanations for feeling like this. It sure feels like it’s a fact for me, though.
There’s not much going on with lots of blogs lately. Shelley’s been mentioning how so many seem to be taking a break. Maybe time is just going by for them too.
Too much of my time is spent writing, re-writing, and editing articles for the regional dance magazine. It’s too much like my old job, which I retired from and hoped to do other things. I’ve got to get out of what I got myself into.
I want to spend more of my time making stuff for my grandson. I just sent him a soft fleece hooded robe, a pair of booties that look like sneakers, and I’m almost fininshed making him a totally un-Christmasy-looking Christmas stocking.
When my kids were little, I made a pink and orange one for my daughter and a turquoise and blue one for b!X. Yes, yes, I know that those are sexist colors, but what the hell. She still has hers. I wonder if he still has his.
And I have one more craft sale to do, so I’m working on more “indestructible, adjustable, washable crusher hats.” And more of my original-design “spiral shawls.” (A woman from California stumbled on the post of a photo of one of my shawls and she’s already bought four so far.)
B!X is supposed to be working establishing a web page where I can advertise the stuff I make and some jewelry and quilted items that friends of mine create. My one-year anniversary for this weblog is on November 29.
My mother will be 87 in February.
And time keeps going by.
NOW I’M REAAALLLLY MAD AT MCAFEE!!
Earlier this month, I posted about my inability to successfully load McAfee Virus Scan onto my computer becauses of weird little McAfee files that were stuffed into unlocatable places in my PC. So, I packaged up the disk and sent it back for a refund, along with a letter that included the following:
Please credit my card with a refund for the enclosed purchase because I was not able to install the upgrade BECAUSE when I tried–
First, it told me to uninstall current copies of McAfee Virus Scan, so I used my PC’s uninstall feature to try to do that.
Then when I again tried to install the upgrade, it told me that there were Virus Scan files left on my computer that had to be removed/uninstalled as well before I could install the new version.
Since I couldn
Still Alive at 55
The Price of Passion
I passed up seeing 8 Mile and Bowling for Columbine in favor of Frida tonight, and I
play’s the thing….
RageBoy