Friday, September 3, 2010

Gone fishin'

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Gone fishin without a cane pole.

Translation:

Going to sailboat. Will be spending as much time as possible avoiding the following:

work
group activities that require work
goats,
"goats",
and azzholes,
work
(working on sailboat not work)
emails
cellphones
Internet
work
late nights
Twitter
work





Will however be spending as much time as humanly possible with

sailboat
BBQ
lemmonaide
and a hammock.
WB
Pup
river
beach
pups
hammock
hopefully a sunrise or two on the boat
and alittle dancing in the moonlight.


Gripe all you want. I honestly don't care.
I'm turning off all the tv and computer and then?

I'm spending this holiday in the company of real live people.




Hugs honey. Life is just way to short.





We are on vacation.

No work allowed.

Have fun


http://12dotsandablot.blogspot.com/2010/09/sex-and-candy-johnny-lydon-on-tomorrow.html






:D


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Thursday, September 2, 2010

Second time round

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The last time I wrote a blog like a job, I was told that unless I got paid for it? No matter how hard I worked or how good the words? I wasn't a writer unless I got paid. Everyday. Everyday I wrote. The view numbers went up and up and I wrote. When I pointed that out to WB he asked, "Did you get money?"

"No." I'd tell him.

"Well then you're not a writer." he tell me then off he'd go to do something "...important...".



I was exhausted with being told I was a failure. When the blog closed, WB celebrated. Not out loud mind you but loud enough.

I was once asked, "If you wrote but no one read? Would you still be making a sound?" I told them yes. Every world we say, even a note in a bottle thrown into the sea has the potential for being heard. There's always "hope".


.


2 Sept., 2010

Ann

,

Eine kleine Nachtmusik

.





"...

"I don't want to - I don't know how to grow old.", I'd said it out loud. Hadn't meant to and didn't realize that I had but I did. Jack looked round so I know it was out loud.

"Well then don't. You don't have to."

He looked at me and then got up and left the room.


I've had this hard knot of inevitability in my stomach ever since. He didn't mean it like it sounds. Just like I didn't. We were both just thinking and the words came out into the world where folks could hear them.

It's a rough situation this. There aren't any rules or cheerfully helpful hints on how to do it well. Just the facts and a brutal silence.


..."

2 September, 2010

Ann


http://12dotsandablot.blogspot.com/2010/08/because-i-cant-write-it-often-enough.html



.

Dear WB,

.




We're glad that you're back.









.

Arrgggghh

.


AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG... fuck.





I hate being celibate.



Where was I?

Oh yeah.



AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... fuck






I can't sleep.
I imagined sex.

LOL


AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG... fuck.





I hate being celibate.










God bless Tina Turner.



AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG... fuck.







.








.

Blog stupid...

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Every once in a while it's a good idea to get your head out of your butt.

Look around and see what's going on in the world maybe?

I just did.

Yikes.


.


Help. I'm in danger of killing this blog due to much introspection.


Ironic isn't it. It actually put me to sleep and I wrote it.

Three blog posts ago I was commenting about how writing was supposed to entertain.


Could I be this boring?


I think it's lack of sex.

Alot of lack of sex.

10 years a lack of sex.

This is now unhealthy and I'm in danger of growing an old, musty vagina.

What if it shrivels up due to lack of use.

I had an excellent first time. It was fantastic. But what if I really have been "re-virginated" due to lack of use. I was young. I could put my legs over my head. Lack of sleep wasn't an issue. What if this is some karmic payback for having a great time. Maybe I was supposed to have had a lousy first time and this is like a sexual "Jonah and the Whale" experience where God is saying, "Oh no you don't Missy. You're going to have that horrific "first time" like we planned for you. Non of that "whoop, whoop, yee haw" that you had before."



Not a good thing.

To make it worse, I watched a movie about being old this afternoon. In between "boohooing" it occured that I'm also really not sure about growing old. Do you have sex when you're old? I'm not sure I want to know this. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine. Fantasy. About sex. Say when I'm in my 60's and it scared me. I now know why old guys marry young women.

(and now I'm distracted by the idea)

I'm sorry but this isn't a good thing.

It's like imagining your grandma and grandpa having sex.

I have had sex on the back of a car. I danced naked in the middle of the road afterwards. I did have my tennis shoes and socks on but every thing else was "nekkid". It was raining. I remember looking up at the sky. Dark. The rain is coming down.

It was fantastic.


I had sex all weekend long.
I had sex in every room in the house and the back yard during daylight.


What happens now?

I don't want to go out with someone younger. It's not the same as for a guy. I don't think that guys worry about sagging things. They just seem to be in some kind of delutional happy place where they're sex gods. It's Viagra's fault. Have you ever seen a Viagra erection? I did once. I was scared to get anywhere near it because it looked like it might break off. God, I'm sorry but it scared the hell out of me.

I was celibate as a kind of protest against my situation but what happens if that was it. That brief moment of sexual abandon gone? Oh heck no.

I don't drink. To have sex again? I'll have to get so drunk that I'm about to pass out. No, it's not like riding a bicycle. My bicycle doesn't care if I can put my legs over some guy's shoulders. It doesn't care what my post pregnancy boobs look like. I don't want to be seduced. I don't want to be raped. I don't want to be drunk. Is there anyone on this planet who could even begin to be understanding of this. I know for a fact I can have sex with my clothes on but who the heck would want to.

Unless it were in an elevator.




What if it's not my writing that's boring. What if it's my life that's boring?

Ah f8ck.


I don't want to grow old like this.

I'm sorry but being celibate s*cks.

If this is the future? How did I get here and how do I get out?



Not a Mid-life crisis.

Sept 2,2010



.

I don't even know what kind of music to put with this post.


Lemmie think on it.

Okay


Mr. Music Please...





.
Click me  http://12dotsandablot.blogspot.com/




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The pitter patter of little ant feet.

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I had a writing friend. Once. The right person at the right time.

Then?

They vanished.

I miss my writing buddy.

If they were here?

I'd ask them this question.



Because - tonight?

I'm on my knees looking for answers.


.

"Wave goodbye.
Wish me well."

But don't let go.


.

I've met people who don't look much past their next step.
They honestly don't care. Their curiosity is miniscule.

My pups have more interest in the nature of this world.


.

The sound of ants on aluminum foil is like the sound of a rain shower on a tin roof.
Only quieter.

Tiny.

Which makes sense because an ant's foot is so very small compared to a raindrop.

But there are six of them so it's the sound of a rain shower on a tin roof.
Only quieter.
And with more pitter patters.








"The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.

It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment."





I knew a fella who was so intent on making me see the reality of the world that he forgot that sometimes the real of the world is what we can only imagine.




Because well it couldn't be real if it weren't unhappy.




Good to know.

.






.

CU real soon...

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Life.


Telling me that it could be worse isn't helping.




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Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Good morning!

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Hello.

I don't know if anyone actually reads my blog anymore. If you do? Hugs. Thank you. I really am glad that you are here.

(Would be nice if you'd comment. I'd like to hear what you have to say.)


Well this took a while to figure out.

For most of my life, "happy", my "happy", depended on my being with another person. That's not a bad thing. I like people. The problem is that inorder for them not to leave (taking my "happy" with them) I would just about twist myself into a pretzel to make them happy. Sometimes it was to my discomfort. If they did leave? Ouch. One day I woke up and didn't really have a clue who I was. So much time spent trying to craft my responses to please another. If you were to ask me what I thought or who I was? I would have to really think about it to give an answer. I realized that I'd surrounded myself with people who didn't care about what I thought. They just wanted me to care about what they thought. Don't get me wrong, I love to hear what others think. I learn from the experience. But this was different, they honestly only wanted me around to tell them how great they were. To make matters worse? They wanted me around to yell at and blame when things didn't go their way. They wanted me to be their "whipping boy".

That, Gentle Reader, is NOT good.

At first I put up with it. What if they left? I'd be ALONE!!! That seemed a horrible thing. What would I do? Then one day they did leave. I wasn't good enough so? They left leaving me in that dreaded "alone".

That's how I found out that there were worst things than being left "alone".

I'm finally understanding the term "personal growth". It doesn't mean being selfish. It means that there are things that I love to do. I found out that I have a "voice". Something worth listening to. I found out that the world is very big and the group of people that I'd been around was actually quite small. I began to have conversations again. We don't always agree but we still talk to each other. Slowly I'm leaving the people who spent a life time telling me that I was a failure. I'm meeting folks who are glad to hear what I have to say. I've stopped making "have to do" lists. I've stopped making personal decisions by committee vote. I've started waking up and saying, "Okay, what do I want to do to day?" not just "What do I have to do today?" I've tried it and believe it or not it's good. I'm growing happier by the day. I don't justify to those around me doing those little things (which are very legal and moral by the way) that make me happy.

I've learned to say, "I've can help? I will. BUT that is neither my fault nor is it my responsibility."

I've learned to say, "No."

It's a little weird. Kind of like a detox.



Does this mean I'll start changing how I write? Maybe but maybe not. A fella I met this weekend asked if I lived vicariously through my characters. Thought about it and honestly told him, "No. Not in the least." I write to tell a good story. Some of the characters are based on people I've known. Some of the stories are entirely fiction. Some of the characters I love dearly but some I really do not like at all. But like them or not, they're created by me to entertain. I want to write a good story.

Well it's finally September. The weather is still alittle on the hot side but not uncomfortable. The sky is blue. The birds are singing. And the sun is shining.

This month is going to be a busy one. Lots to do.

I'm glad to be alive and awake.


Hugs,

Ann











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Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Dear Tv's Craig Ferguson,

.


Have you given up the sky for a life at sea?


How do you like sailing?


.

Because I can't write it often enough...

.


Welcome to 12 dots and a blot

A writer's journal.

Fact and fiction co-exist here.

If you don't know which is which?


Don't ASSume.

Ask



Now then what the heck?

I was in line at the grocery store and there were three different "magazines" with three different headlines about Prince William. Now normally, I don't really care about what's happening in Prince Williams life because- well- I don't know him so it's not really my business but in the interest of journalistic integrity?

Are they married or not?

Inquiring minds want to know.





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Being a parent...

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Knocked the pizz out of me and replaced it with love.

Hugs.

Ann

When the people doing it stop giving a dam...

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(very rough draft subject to edit)

Late night on Saturday is the best movie time ever.

(or when does a parody of a parody "go south"?)


What is the difference between Buccaroo Bonzi and Rocky Horror Picture Show?


What makes one Youtube funny and the other just stupid?


And why was Obama Girl such a power for good (or evil depending on how you vote?



------------------









I'm worried.

Every once in a while we talk about the difference between Buccaroo Bonzi and The Rocky Horror Picture Show. One was (and, I guess still is) a cult classic and the other wanted to be one.

I'm still worried.

There is a moment when you break through a sort of wall. Believe it or not we've all probably felt it. That moment when a disaster happens and we're dripping in dog poop. You could loose it and go insame or - ? You can let loose. Start laughing and making fun of it. Parody. Then you laugh some more. It might look like a person stops caring and I guess they do in a way. Only in this case you retain your humanity. You can look at yourself and laugh.




"I can't afford to have an ego."

I told that to someone a year ago last June. I'd just jumped in the water and infront of complete strangers who were incredibly fit just acted a fool. On the one hand, it was kind of like my job. Afterwards, I had to go for a walk/slash run to work off the humiliation of it. If it weren't for the payoff (sailing) I'd have never gone back. It's not easy being "cheesy" 365 days out of the year. In order to do good parody you have to take what you're doing seriously. You break through the wall of selfconsciousness. LOL I know it's sounds cliche but you really do seriously have to "be" the tree or the prat fall. If you're showing the humor in the human condition and want people to laugh at the situation and at themselves? You have to "be" them and love them for it. That way they can love themselves. Parody.

"I love you crazy kid walking around with the shoes on the wrong feet but proud because you did it yourself." Later you laugh about it. Not to make fun but because to laugh at yourself when you goof up is one of those skills you need to survive life on Earth. I used to do something for a lifing that I really didn't like at all. It was responsible, well paying, and hard to do. If I still did it I would be respected in the community and pretty well off. I was worried when I quit, that I would regret the decission. I didn't. Time off didn't change my dread of going back to work. It just reminded me that I wasn't in a situation that let me laugh.

That's why I'm worried. It's one thing to parody unhappy behavior, it's another thing when the dread of a situation makes you stop laughing. Things change. You can roll with it. Look at the situation and change it so that the laughing comes back. But if you can't use this as a catalyst to change? Maybe it's better that you do something else. I did. It's not been easy but it was definately for the best.

And I did find my happy.

I would miss TV's Craig Ferguson's show. It's one of the places where I found my laugh again but I'm told that it's no fun to watch someone who truly doesn't like their situation. So I'm hoping that if they can't innovate here? He'll do what he apparently always has done.


Open the door and find something new to do.

Cause folks it ain't easy being "cheesy".




.....






I'm an writer. It's in my "contract" that I might at some point write about falling on my ass or being covered in baby vomit. Now to some there's little or no humor in it but the reality is that situation can be the very essence of humor and being human. To laugh at the world and ourselves, to see the humor in the darkest of times, and to rise above it or sit there in the middle of it and laugh is the well spring of empathy. My dogs can't do that. As smart as they are they can't or won't sympathise with another dog who's had the same trouble in the pack as they have. We can because we can see the humor in this loco life.





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Why I'm glad that the summer vaca is over...

.


It's hot.

(it has been hot)

I can (finally) chew things. Yay.

(I'm gonna get the biggest steak-

Eat it on Labor Day.)


The LLS is back on the air.

This is good because - well- the world is strange.

Things missed?

Korea gets Facebook and twitter account

Vampires Suck (the movie is on)

Then there was the thing with the (almost) Miss Universe


Welcome back, Mr. Ferguson.


So what's your first Tweet to the Koreans? eh?






Note

I've been chatting on @RSA_New live chat. http://rsanews.com/news/ I'm pretty sure that you don't have to have a Twitter account to chat AND there is still time to chat now. Great place to go to find info on the show.

One quiet night in August...

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...or was it March? I can't remember. You could only hear bits of the melody coming through the woods. Same time every evening. Quiet. The sound of trucks on the highway. Then...

Bagpipes.

I started the truck that last evening. Determined to find out where it was coming from. All those bits and pieces of music floating.

So there I went. Slowly driving down the road, window open, and listening for the sound.



...

On the old blog I wrote about the time that the rainbow ended at the base of our pecan tree. It was late afternoon then as well. Everything was green from the rain and the heat. All the way home we watched as the rainbow shifted. Just out of reach. Then when we came to the house it stopped there at the bottom of our pecan tree.

We found gold there. A nest full of eggs. The shined gold in the afternoon sun.

...

I found the source of the bagpipes. The son of a neighbor who was learning to play. Each evening, after work, he'd go out in the back yard and play to the chickens in the yard.


Yeah, it's a goofy story. Boring to most folks. These people. The stories in this post came to mean alot to me. How often do you get to see the gold at the end of a rainbow? Or hear the magic of music coming through the trees from some leprechan's dance? There was real magic.


I am sorry not to be cynical this morning. It's just that for some reason I'm happy. When you've spent time not so happy, those happy moments are a treasure.






Like dancing in the kitchen barefoot. Moonlight coming through the bay window. Laughing but not too loud. So you don't wake anyone.

The harder you try not to make a sound the more you laugh. Until you just stop caring and start laughing out loud.








LOL

Nite. Got to get some sleep.



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Psst, It's the last day of August 2010.

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Yay.

The house is quiet except for Izzy who's snoring.


To celebrate surving August, a very hot month, a song:




Van Morrison.

Listen quick before they take it off Youtube.


I do not profit from this song in anyway. I'm just a Van Morrison fan and this song makes me "...wonderful happy..."


"When that fog horns blow, I have to hear it..."



Next?

Dunno.

I may be back tonight or not for a while. Not sure. There's things to do here and for some reason, for the first time in years, I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas. Happy.

Which has to to be a good thing? Right?




.


More Van Morrison


Brown eyed Girl






They'll Be Days Like This




Once in a Blue Moon


Now what?

.





Oh no, I am not going to lecture anyone today about their life choices. Yes - I - do know that the song is a lecture on appreciating what you have. It's not there to lecture. It's more a gentle nudge.

I'm liking planting things. There's something nice about watching a plant grow. And these are culinary herbs so they not only look nice but they're also useful. The aloe isn't doing so good. Went by one of the local nurseries to get advice on what I could do. "Too much water? Maybe? Or not enough sun? Perhaps..." I dunno. The person who gave the advice is nice and I'm going to try her suggestions. The Basil that I thought was going to die has leafed out.

You might be wondering what this has to do with the song?

I've been through some times and have made decissions for alot of reasons. Some of those reasons have been competitive. I wasn't going to give in. It's good to be determined. To hold tight to your possition on matters of this life. So I'm not going to lecture or advice anyone to give up what's important to them.

Weren't expecting that was ya'.


Hugs and because it does need to be said outloud and without missunderstanding,

"You are welcome here. Just mind you don't sit on the cat."

Ann




PS. As mentioned, I had a tooth misshap without any sympathy. Actually my tooth fell out. The entire thing. I've never seen anything quite like this but I will say that it stopped hurting as soon as it fell out. I'm grateful. Anyway I put it in milk and kept it in a bag to see if I needed it but so far I'm okay without.

This isn't exactly the way I thought my life would go though. Planting plants and watching for my tooth the fall out is different.


LOL, would someone cue up the Gloria Gaynor?



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