Natasha Richardson...who could have foreseen her untimely death?  She was 45, which is so young...but then Diana, Princess of Wales was only 36.  Marilyn Monroe was 36.  Natasha had 9 more years than either one of these women whose legendary tragic deaths will define them, to an extent, throughout history.  Of course, Natasha was much more fortunate than many women who spend their whole lives searching for their "soulmate", as it appears she and Liam Neeson each found theirs in the other, and had an idyllic marriage despite the pressures of show business that so often tear couples apart.  Liam andNatasha were, by all accounts, totally in sync with each other and happy, happy together. So there is a bereft husband who has undoubtedly forgotten how to live without her, and two boys on the edge of adolescence who will have to navigate those treacherous years without their mother.  Trying to imagine their grief is like dipping a toe into a ring of fire--- it burns, and burns are the worst pain you can experience...even a toe is agony.  Then you consider the fact that these people are living inside that ring of fire, and that it never stops burning for them---not yet---not for a long time yet.  

As much sympathy as I have for her husband and children, it is her mother with whom I immediately identified.  Of course, Vanessa Redgrave has been onstage her entire adult life, and I suppose that as a lover of the arts, especially the performing arts, I've been aware of her talents and I've grown accustomed to her presence in many movies I've loved over the years.  When "Evening" was released, I made Miranda promise not to see it with anybody but me, and we did see it together.  It wasn't very good at all, but the mother/daughter theme was so pronounced in the film; it expanded to include sister/sister and best friend/best friend.  Vanessa was wonderful and gave a performance of a dying woman who has lost much of her memory to dementia that was just eerie, it was so good.  She hit every note emotionally, and when Natasha herself, playing Vanessa's daughter, came to her mother's bedside near the end, you could FEEL their connection.  I remember feeling sorry for Natasha, having to play out a scenario that might possibly be a foreshadow of things to come...but never did I think the reverse would happen.  

And that's really the hard part for me:  the realization that, even at age 45 (Vanessa Redgrave is 72), Natasha was still her mother's baby girl.  Despite all the years and experiences and independent living and careers and all other intervening circumstance, the fact is that Vanessa Redgrave has lost her child, her oldest daughter, her baby.  One minute you're the proud mother of TWO beautiful, talented, accomplished actresses who have both earned their share of accolades and fame, and the next minute none of that matters because you are a mother of a child who has died before you.  Against the natural order of things.  In spite of how well-loved she was.  Regardless of the fact that it was far too early for her to go.  None of that matters, and up is down, and there is nothing that makes sense in the world anymore.

My heart is with Vanessa.  I ache for Liam and her two sons, but my heart is a mother's heart, and it is with Vanessa.  I wish this fact could make a difference. 

I was cruising around the net today, visiting my old stomping grounds from 2003-04; mainly left-wing political blogs with fairly small readerships/participants to check out what the general mood is, and it's damned gratifying to read what these people are thinking and feeling now. They've waited a long time for the end of the Bush regime. The prevailing mood used to be anybody but Bush---literally anybody. So to have their long-awaited villains forced to hand it all over to somebody new AND to get a leader of the caliber of Barack Obama really is a dream come true for these people. I couldn't handle it after Kerry lost, and I ceased all my participation in all things political because I am a depressive wuss and cannot take it when I lose. I freely admit that, and it's something I didn't know about myself until then. But I won't be thanking BushCo for generating the situation that provided me with that insight!

I got a celebratory email today from my friend Paula in DesMoines. She's the one good thing I took away with me from my horrible year there (1988), and we've been friends ever since. She got me to thinking about Iowa. I am so proud of Iowa: they were the first ones to embrace Barack in the caucuses back in January. and I will always remember that the news of that win made us SMILE. We walked around the rest of that week with these goofy smiles that we couldn't help, and we didn't even know ourselves WHY. Barack Obama won, not the candidate whose win had been predicted countless times---so many times that lots of pundits were already referring to Hillary Clinton in terms of having the nomination, nevermind the primaries, in the bag already---but Iowa said not so fast...and so the winner wasn't the frontrunner for mostly-white, mostly-conservative Iowa, but BARACK OBAMA.

And we smiled and felt an unfamiliar emotion for us, who feel abused and violated and just beat to shit from 8 years of toxicity: hope. BARACK OBAMA WON THE IOWA CAUCUSES.  It meant EVERYTHING.  The possibility of surprise.  The dawn of the realization that one candidate did NOT necessarily just HAVE to be the nominee.  No, Iowa picked the smart, articulate black guy to whom we could listen talk seemingly endlessly.  Ah, the possibilities....!

And now....what got started inside both Perry and me back in January has finally made it to the White House, and along the way, Iowa turned into a blue state. And I'm going to stop using those terms, because Barack said it only divides us further: we are the United States of America. I'm going to try to be the best American I can be, because I know he's going to be the best President he can be.

I can't even try to understand the most liberal state in the country (California) and how efficiently they crushed their gay population and amended their state Constitution to define legal, recognized marriage as between a man and a woman, period. I thought I heard that they are allowing all the currently legal unions to remain so...in fact, it doesn't make much sense legally that they could go back and nullify all the ones that began while they were legal...I just keep thinking about Ellen DeGeneres,and how hurtful this must be even though she must be ecstatic about Obama's win.

So all the states that could have voted to outlaw abortion DIDN'T.
But all the states that could have voted to make it illegal for gay people to marry DID.

Isn't that odd?  Aren't we a strange, contradictory people? 

The last thing that kinda took the shine off the diamond for me was Al Franken's incredibly tiny (537 votes out of 2.4 million) margin of loss to incumbent lying useless moron Republican Norm Coleman in Minnesota. How can they be so close to Iowa, yet so fucking stupid? Results that close are automatically subject to a recount. Living in Texas and being represented by two really awful Republican senators who just keep winning, election after election, I am here to say I'd be OVER THE MOON to have Al working on my behalf. I owe much of my political activism and acumen to Al; his book, Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them was my first delve into trying to figure out WTF was going on out there with the hate and the fear and the bleak, black things that were coming out of Washington. I love Al, and Iove how much he loves America, even as he chronicled her hijacking by this group of people (neocons) with their bullshit agenda. I can't believe Minnesota doesn't want him!  I mean, why wasn't it a landslide?

If the recount doesn't prove him the winner, I sincerely hope he returns to his radio show on Air America AND writes a book about the campaign experience.  I am dying to know all the dirty details of Norm Coleman and his shady self written only as Al can.  When he's ready, and when he's receiving treatment for PTSD from the stress.

What is there to say that hasn't already been said?

I am so proud of my country tonight, and I see hope everywhere I look. It's the exact opposite of the leaden, dull, stunned feeling I've felt for the last 8 years every time a new outrage was perpetrated by the Bush Crime Syndicate. THIS is Barack Obama's promise and gift to me: relief mixed with pride and a lightness of spirit I haven't felt for a very long time.

AMERICA IS GROWING UP!

PRESIDENT-ELECT OBAMA!!!

♥ ♥ ♥

I've been super-cautious this time.

I haven't talked smack about the Republicans, about GWB, or McCain.  Haven't really commented beyond a "puh-leeze!" and some genuine laughter at Sarah Palin's ignorance and her attempts to cover for it.  EVERYONE knows which way I lean.

I've stayed away from the guessing.  The only poll data I see is what's put in front of me so that I read it reflexively, before I even have a chance to know what those numbers I'm reading ARE.  

I didn't watch any of the debates.  Zero.  What I know about each candidate comes from their websites, both of which contain their respective positions on just about everything, in writing.  And if I needed to know more, I could always read one or more of either or both's books (theyve both written books, who knew they had the time?)

But 2004 is still there in my mind.  I started out that year being absolutely committed to a candidate who was EXACTLY who I wanted to represent me in the White House, and that man WASN'T John Fucking Kerry.  It was Howard Dean.  But the DNC/DCCC thought otherwise, and so I voted for Kerry and tried to like him personally...but I knew we would win.  HOW COULD WE NOT WIN?  I had the facts down.  I had numbers---dreadful, stomach-churning numbers---of the Bush administration.  Everything from national debt to dead soldiers---with numbers like that, no man could keep the presidency, right?

Right?

Even the afternoon of the election, there were rumors on the web about "huge" Kerry wins in various precincts in various states everywhere.  "Landslides" were predicted.  Enthusiasm made people giddy.  Then something changed that afternoon, and suddenly there was Al Franken for Air America, live from Boston, looking distracted and upset, with no script and not much to say besides wait for Senator Kerry to say something...we'll all take our leads from him.  But it was glaringly obvious by then:  we were going to LOSE.  Yes, it was close.  But AMERICA---people I work with and play with and see every day and live side-by-side with---AMERICA chose that fucking motherfucking Bush for a SECOND TIME.  It was a couple of weeks before I stopped hating everything and everybody.

So this time, I stayed the hell away from it.  Clinton? That's nice.  Romney?  Gee whiz.  Giuliani?  Polite laugh.  Obama?  Sigh.  Wouldn't that be amazing?  Too bad he has no chance.  And I didn't watch Keith O. anymore.  I stopped all news except what Jon told me on The Daily Show and occasionally what Mr. Colbert said on his show.  But emotionally and mentally, I remained un-invested and unexcited, except for the day Obama won the nomination.  That was worth smiling for.

Today I say Obama is going to win.  I hope it's  by a good margin---an Obamandate?---but I'l take a 51-49, too.  BARACK OBAMA IS GOING TO BE THE 44TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.  And we are one helluva happy family, I can tell you that.

I wish Molly Ivins could see this.  I wonder what she'd say.  I know she'd be feeling elated, not just for getting rid of Bush, but for the awesomeness of this country electing its first black President.  Molly, if you're up there watching, I just gotta tell you that I actually saw a map of America's electoral vote count per state, and they had TEXAS showing as a BATTLEGROUND state!  High five, Molly, high five.

So that's my prediction.  If he doesn't win, it's because the Republicans have once again interfered with our voting process, for the third presidential election in a row.  And you know, this time, the Dems are not going to lie down and let these thugs walk over them.  They will fight, which is what we've been waiting for---a fighter.   Barack is definitely that.  

All-photo entry,

( Good pictures )

Like salve on a wound, Liza has come into our lives to fill the dog-shaped hole Trixie's murder has left.

Oh man, we still miss Trixie, and I'm sure we will for a very long time, but our attention and focus is now directed on our brand-new boo! She's a rescue dog (again), but NOT crazy like Trixie was crazy, and she has 2 failed adoptions behind her, both of which failed due to other pets already in the households (one had a cat she couldn't get along with, and the other family's mom had a Yorkie lapdog that she constantly carried around, and Liza couldn't deal), and we've already taken her to PetCo and what bliss it was to walk the dog with pride and no fear amongst other dogs! Oh, the compliments we got! She's very affectionate (kisses! lots!), playful (LIVES to play tug-of-war, and I see myself having toned arms very soon), and housebroken and well-behaved in general.

And she's soooooo beautiful.

( Look! )

It's kind of a schizo feeling, the edge a tragedy puts your whole life onto---while you enjoy something that mitigates that tragedy and takes the edge off...we can only wait for time to do its healing work, which it always, always, always does.

I think we're so lucky to have found this gorgeous baby who needed us as much as we needed her.


( Have another look... )

My thanks to EVERYBODY who supported me through this time, both on LJ and off. I love you all.

On Monday the 23rd at around 7:30 pm, Perry and I heard a gunshot. It sounded like it came from the direction of the park/bike trail behind our house. Then we realized we hadn't seen Trixie for a good 15 minutes or so....after a search, we determined that she was missing (and one of the fence boards between us and our neighbor was turned sideways, so we knew exactly how she got out). I was in the front yard calling her name when a group of people congregated at the entrance to the bike trail yelled, "Are you missing your dog?" and when I yelled yes, they yelled, "THEY JUST SHOT A DOG DOWN THE PATH."

And I knew.

Perry says he really knew when he heard the shot, in his gut he knew.

She headed straight for the path and a small dog and tried to kill it, because that was Trixie. And police were called, and they killed her. Perry always said that if she ever really got out and had some time, this is exactly what would happen. I didn't want to believe him. Now I do.

We will never know what happened to her in her first year of life to make her so aggressive. We do know that we spent $700 and sent her to a boarding school for dogs in an effort to un-learn that aggressive behavior, but they returned her to us without making the slightest dent in it because it scared them, too. They didn't want any animal murders on their hands, so they just stopped trying when they saw her in action.

That aggression extended to human babies, too. Whenever my brother would come for Thanksgiving with his two kids under 5,
Trixie had to spend the day locked outside. She wanted to kill the babies---something about the crying set her off.

And we heard time and time again that with a dog like Trixie, you gotta put her down before tragedy strikes. Well, it struck. US. She didn't kill the other dog on Monday. We paid the vet's bill of...$700. But that cop killed my dog with a shotgun and now there is no love here and I am bereft and there is a hole in my soul that NOTHING can fill, NOTHING.

I get this every week, and I'm so used to it that I hardly even stop to consider just what exactly I'm reading...but today I did. I was thinking about our AG and the fact that he has to go up to the Hill and lie his head off tomorrow, and how I wish it had been HE who died in Virginia instead of any of those kids, when I read this:

Ex-Justice Official: Gonzales
"Shattered" DOJ Integrity

Senate GOP Blocks Medicare
Part D Negotiation Bill (because ooooh, Big Pharma would SHIT)

White House Delaying Turnover
of RNC Emails to Congress (duhhhh I wonder why?)

Supreme Court Upholds
Abortion Procedure Ban (here we go)

Four Bombs Kill
178 People in Baghdad (178! 178!)

Waxman May Subpoena Rice to Testify on Iraq-Niger Claims (Gonzo shouldn't have to be the only one lying to Congress)

Domenici Faces Ethics Probe
Over US Attorney Firing (what ethics? where?)

Contractor Was Told to
Hire Wolfowitz Friend (don't you mean LOVER?)

New FEMA Hurricane Plan Won't
Be Ready by Hurricane Season (why anyone thought it would is beyond me)

Immunity Considered
for Ex-Gonzales Aide (I'm just about ready to be in favor of that, if Gonzo continues to hold onto his job with all his talons)

UN Urges More Help
for Fleeing Iraqis (Help? You gotta be kidding me. How about reducing the population so there's not so many who need to flee?

More Than Three Million Iraqis Displaced by War (3 million! 3 million!)

Pete McCloskey (wakes up and experiences the thing known as REALITY) Leaves Republican Party

House to Begin Probe Into Florida Election (why, I have no idea)

Bush, Gonzales Reportedly Discussed Fired Prosecutor (Oh I don't belieeeeeeeeeeve it! Say it ain't so!)

ABC: Gonzales Contradicts His Own Testimony (Really? Did ABC just figure this out? Because we knew that the day he did it.)

Bush Allies in Congress Keep Prisons Secret (They're not secret anymore, so hmmmmph.)

Gonzales Deputy, in Crossfire, Looks for Quiet Exit (Quiet, Loud, whatever---just GO)

Justice Probes Abramoff Ties to White House (Pardon me, but we don't really have a Justice department anymore, what with the head guy being a lying partisan traitor, so even if Abramoff had a couch with his name on it, I'd have a hard time believing anything that came out of the "Justice" department...or anywhere else in DC for that matter...)

Sadr Ministers Quit Iraqi Government Over US Troops (and this is progress?)

Military Forces Journalists to Delete Images of Civilian Killings (free speech?)

Ex-DOJ Official's Statements Contradict Gonzales (*yawn* REALLY?)

Bank Concerned as Wolfowitz Says He Won't Resign (Hey, World Bank? These people are neocons. They won't RESIGN for ANYTHING. They have to be THROWN OUT. Just ask Rummy.)

Rove, Others Were Warned to Save Emails (LMAO)

US Troop Deaths Up 21 Percent in Iraq "Surge" (sigh)

All stories at http://www.truthout.com.

We got the Senate, too. Keith O. reported that the AP has officially called Virginia for Jim Webb. Concession could come from Allen as early as tomorrow morning.

Joy to the world.

...as told to me by James today:

I LOVE JESUS---IT'S HIS FAN CLUB I HAVE PROBLEMS WITH!

I couldn't have said it better if I'd taken a week to try.

There Is Fascism, Indeed
By Keith Olbermann, MSNBC

Wednesday 30 August 2006

The man who sees absolutes, where all other men see nuances and shades of meaning, is either a prophet, or a quack.

Donald H. Rumsfeld is not a prophet.

Mr. Rumsfeld's remarkable speech to the American Legion yesterday demands the deep analysis---and the sober contemplation---of every American.

For it did not merely serve to impugn the morality or intelligence - indeed, the loyalty - of the majority of Americans who oppose the transient occupants of the highest offices in the land. Worse, still, it credits those same transient occupants - our employees - with a total omniscience; a total omniscience which neither common sense, nor this administration's track record at home or abroad, suggests they deserve.

Dissent and disagreement with government is the life's blood of human freedom; and not merely because it is the first roadblock against the kind of tyranny the men Mr. Rumsfeld likes to think of as "his" troops still fight, this very evening, in Iraq.

It is also essential. Because just every once in a while it is right, and the power to which it speaks is wrong.

In a small irony, however, Mr. Rumsfeld's speechwriter was adroit in invoking the memory of the appeasement of the Nazis. For in their time, there was another government faced with true peril---with a growing evil----powerful and remorseless.

That government, like Mr. Rumsfeld's, had a monopoly on all the facts. It, too, had the "secret information." It alone had the true picture of the threat. It too dismissed and insulted its critics in terms like Mr. Rumsfeld's - questioning their intellect and their morality.

That government was England's, in the 1930's.

It knew Hitler posed no true threat to Europe, let alone England.

It knew Germany was not re-arming, in violation of all treaties and accords.

It knew that the hard evidence it received, which contradicted its own policies, its own conclusions - its own omniscience - needed to be dismissed.

The English government of Neville Chamberlain already knew the truth.

Most relevant of all - it "knew" that its staunchest critics needed to be marginalized and isolated. In fact, it portrayed the foremost of them as a blood-thirsty war-monger who was, if not truly senile, at best morally or intellectually confused.

That critic's name was Winston Churchill.

Sadly, we have no Winston Churchills evident among us this evening. We have only Donald Rumsfelds, demonizing disagreement, the way Neville Chamberlain demonized Winston Churchill.

History - and 163 million pounds of Luftwaffe bombs over England - have taught us that all Mr. Chamberlain had was his certainty - and his own confusion. A confusion that suggested that the office can not only make the man, but that the office can also make the facts.

Thus did Mr. Rumsfeld make an apt historical analogy.

Excepting the fact that he has the battery plugged in backwards.

His government, absolute and exclusive in its knowledge, is not the modern version of the one which stood up to the Nazis.

It is the modern version of the government of Neville Chamberlain.

But back to today's Omniscient ones.

That about which Mr. Rumsfeld is confused is simply this: This is a Democracy. Still. Sometimes just barely.

And, as such, all voices count - not just his.

Had he or his president perhaps proven any of their prior claims of omniscience - about Osama Bin Laden's plans five years ago, about Saddam Hussein's weapons four years ago, about Hurricane Katrina's impact one year ago - we all might be able to swallow hard, and accept their "omniscience" as a bearable, even useful recipe of fact, plus ego.

But, to date, this government has proved little besides its own arrogance, and its own hubris.

Mr. Rumsfeld is also personally confused, morally or intellectually, about his own standing in this matter. From Iraq to Katrina, to the entire "Fog of Fear" which continues to envelop this nation, he, Mr. Bush, Mr. Cheney, and their cronies have --- inadvertently or intentionally --- profited and benefited, both personally and politically.

And yet he can stand up, in public, and question the morality and the intellect of those of us who dare ask just for the receipt for the Emporer's New Clothes?

In what country was Mr. Rumsfeld raised? As a child, of whose heroism did he read? On what side of the battle for freedom did he dream one day to fight? With what country has he confused the United States of America?

The confusion we---as its citizens---must now address is stark and forbidding.

But variations of it have faced our forefathers, when men like Nixon and McCarthy and Curtis LeMay have darkened our skies and obscured our flag. Note - with hope in your heart - that those earlier Americans always found their way to the light, and we can too.

The confusion is about whether this Secretary of Defense, and this administration are in fact now accomplishing what they claim the terrorists seek: The destruction of our freedoms (the very ones for which the same veterans Mr. Rumsfeld addressed yesterday in Salt Lake City) so valiantly fought.

And about Mr. Rumsfeld's other main assertion, that this country faces a "new type of fascism."

As he was correct to remind us how a government that knew everything could get everything wrong, so too was he right when he said that---though probably not in the way he thought he meant it.

This country faces a new type of fascism---indeed.

Although I presumptuously use his sign-off each night in feeble tribute, I have utterly no claim to the words of the exemplary journalist Edward R. Murrow.

But never in the trial of a thousand years of writing could I come close to matching how he phrased a warning to an earlier generation of us, at a time when other politicians thought they (and they alone) knew everything, and branded those who disagreed: "confused" or "immoral."

Thus, forgive me, for reading Murrow, in full:

"We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty," he said, in 1954. "We must remember always that accusation is not proof, and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law.

"We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men, not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate, and to defend causes that were for the moment unpopular."

And so good night, and good luck.

/thunderous applause

This entry should be titled "Dreams and the End of Friendships", but I'm not sure that's grammatically correct (the ends of friendship? the ends of friendships? since I'm referring to one in particular, should they all be singular...but what I feel would apply to anybody who hurt me this way, so plurality is called for), and anyway that's probably just because this is really, really hard to write. Yet it's high time I did.

It's been a year now, and I'm still angry, still hurt beyond measure, still utterly shocked that a "best friend" could (and did) do the things Teresa did to me...it will never make sense to me. The day I sent my last email to her, I set up the "rules" section of my MS Outlook to reject any and all emails sent from her URL before they ever hit my mailbox. They were (and still are) deleted from the server, that's how far away I wanted to be from her.

After a year, I feel safe now. A little. More, anyway. I know this much: she cannot CANNOT hurt me anymore. That part is over and done with. There's just nothing left of me for her at all, much less a vulnerable part.

Teresa and I became friends when we became roommates out of necessity in the late summer of 1979. We worked together, which is how we knew each other, but we weren't "friends" in the true sense of the word. We were, in fact, entirely opposite from each other...except for one thing we did share: we both ADORED drugs. This made our cohabitation work amazingly well, and we would continue to be roommates off and on until she got married and so did I.

Until the summer of 2002, when I left Perry in the throes of psychosis (what else could it have been?), and Teresa had just rented an apartment that made it possible for her and her children to leave her Dad's house and live independently once more, I moved in with her. The deal was this: she paid the rent, and I paid half the utilities and put my name on all the accounts, which was absolutely fine with me. I was damned grateful for her generosity and for being there when I needed her---at just the right time, with exactly what I needed the most---a roof over my head, a sense of family, unconditional love.

How many years is that? From 1979 to 2002? That's how long we'd been friends when she stuck me with her bills. It's that simple, really. She rented the apartment on June 1, and I got there on the 10th. She had no electricity or water or gas or phone. She couldn't GET any utilities without paying HUGE deposits that she couldn't afford. Why? Because her credit is so awful. Not only is HER credit awful, she's used both her kids' names and social security numbers to get credit in the past, so they're fucked up too. Enter ME. I got everything turned on without deposits, but when Perry and I decided to give it another shot in October and I came back to my family, I DID NOT HAVE THE UTILITIES TRANSFERRED OUT OF MY NAME. I didn't because that would've meant Teresa would have had nothing. I knew.

It took them a long time, but they all found me here. One of them went straight to Perry's credit report...that one was the $300-plus electric bill. All the dates of service were, naturally, after October 15 when I left. All the utilities showed me a zero balance due at the end of October, and after that...no more payments until she left (got evicted?), so the bills just got higher and higher.

And they were all in my name.

The total was around $800, and we had to pay them all. We wrote letters. We got my brother to look at some civil action against her (possible and we'd likely win, but you can't get blood from a stone...)

How could she? How could she be that careless with our relationship? Was that what I was to her? How many sets of tires did I buy her? How many times did I "loan" her money (which we both knew would never be paid back) How many times, when I got lucky, did I just give her some, hoping THAT would be the one time that would turn her life around? Who did I take on the one and only cruise I've ever been on? Who has always been the major recipient of my generosity?

Yeah. I'm a fucking idiot. She was doing speed the whole time I lived with her in 2002 and I didn't know it. I fell for her lies and her bullshit stories for why she didn't come home until midnight (did I mention I was the unpaid babysitter for her son the entire time I was there?) I fell for all of it, and I ended up paying her debts on top of everything else, because that is all I was to her.

So I dreamed about her last night for the zillionth time over the past year, and I'm sick of these dreams. Maybe if I write about it here, where SHE could read all about herself (IF she could remember anything for longer than 18 hours; methamphetamine does rob a person of his/her memory and cognition so it's doubtful she remembers I have a blog)...just maybe the dreams will stop?

Wherever you may be, may there be good air conditioning...and a happy August to you, too.

I read the August issue of Texas Monthly last night, which alerted me to a sad yet important anniversary that is lodged in my head and probably will be for a while...

Forty years ago today, an architectural engineering student named Charles Whitman, age 25, took the elevator (and a shitload of rifles) up to the observation deck of the tower on the University of Texas campus in Austin and proceeded to shoot people for the next 96 minutes. He killed 15 and wounded 31, and in doing so, he introduced mass murder to America. In 1966, the term "going postal" had no meaning, and people lived their lives without fear of being murdered at random by a stranger for no discernible reason. Isn't that strange? I can't imagine what a world like that would be like. Sad.

I think maybe it was society's innocence that caused the entire event to be hushed up and visible scars from that day covered up and repaired and an eerie blanket of silence to descend over the topic of the shootings and/or anything relating to them. That only excuses the immediate aftermath---I can see shock and denial, but I DO NOT think it's permissible for the silence and refusal to speak about it to have gone on like, permanently. But that's what happened: nobody would discuss it. Given what we know now about PTSD, it's impossible that all those kids (for that's what the majority of those affected that day were---just college kids) felt just fine, thank you, and had no need to discuss their fears or their reactions to seeing their fellow students blown to bits right before their eyes in a setting that until that day was the most benign place one could think of, save one's own dorm room...uh-huh. No nightmares. No survivor's guilt. Yeah, right. JFK had been assassinated only 3 short years before; Vietnam was just gearing up. So yes, we were headed for the nearly constant, ruthless beatings we would suffer as the result of civil breakdown, but hadn't really experienced anything besides a cold, hard slap in the face at that point.

Man oh man, we were VIRGINS. When you stop and consider everything that's happened in the world since Charlie Whitman went postal and shot 46 people on the South Mall at UT in Austin in 1966...oh yeah, we were virgins. JFK's murder was the equivalent of being mugged if you permit me to use person-on-person crime as an analogy. Vietnam would therefore be a long, extended rape...by a GORILLA. Iraq's already there, in my humble opinion. But I digress...

The Austin police officer who bravely went up that elevator and out onto that deck and shot Whitman became a Texas Ranger and is now retired. I'm glad life treated him well. He did many people a great service that day...who knows how many more Whitman would have killed if Officer Ramiro "Ray" Martinez hadn't decided to confront the sniper mano a mano? And Officer Martinez was hanging out, just kicking it on his day off when he heard what was happening on his radio. He made the decision to head for the tower, and thank God he did.

It bothers me that there isn't any memorial to the dead. I cannot stop thinking about those kids who had no choice but to stuff their feelings about the whole thing down deep inside and carry on as though nothing whatsoever had happened. It's that stiff upper lip we proper Southern Baptists maintain no matter what. SO typical of Texans. And I'm more than bothered---I'm completely pissed OFF that one of the students who was in ICU for 6 or so weeks never got so much as a "we're really sorry this happened to you" from the Dean or anybody else in an official capacity at the college. This woman, Claire James, who is now a junior high teacher in another state, was 8 months pregnant and walking to lunch with her boyfriend when she was hit in the stomach. She had no idea what had happened to her, until she saw her boyfriend's head blown off. She lost the baby, naturally. And nobody said I'M SO SORRY? What a bunch of shit.

I'm grateful to Texas Monthly for doing this 40th Anniversary oral history, and I'll never forget the things I learned by reading it. My daughter attends this university. She walks past that tower every single day, and I'm sure she knows as little about that day as I did. Now that I know details, names, numbers, the chronology...you name it, I probably know it...well, it's hard to get it OUT of my head. It's playing in my background as I go about my daily life, and it'll be a while before it fades away. I think it's a good thing---it's a memorial the 15 dead never got, so let it be me and however many other readers experienced the same emotions I did upon learning the extraordinary sequence of events that allowed a 25-year-old graduate student do what he did.

So....I haven't had so much as a puff off a cigarette since November 27, 2005. Neither has Perry. Woo HOO. *yawn* I feel nothing about it---no pride, no pleasure---nothing. In retrospect, it was one of the easiest things I've ever done, mainly because I had no way to get to a store to buy any while Perry was at work. When he was home, there was that shared misery-loves-company feeling to wallow in, and quick, merciful sleep.

All in all, definitely not what I'd characterize as "hard", but I want one now. In fact, this month I've experienced severe cravings that are worse than anything I've felt throughout this whole process. Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy?

Maybe because the world is going straight to hell in a handbasket? Hezbollah, Hamas,
Beirut, Damascus, the Gaza strip...it's 1982 all over again, only this time around, our military is bogged down smack in the middle of the shit, between Iran and Syria. How nice. How very convenient.

And the line between the government of a sovereign nation and the leadership and membership of a terrorist group continues to be blurred. It's taken four days for me to hear a television news channel remind us that it was Hezbollah who killed nearly 200 U.S. Marines in Beirut back in 1982 or 83. Hezbollah, NOT the Lebanese government. They just got the balls to eject the Syrians not that long ago...and now this.

The world is a sad, sad place. I want grandchildren, but I don't envy their lifetimes. The only thing that keeps me from outright despair is knowing what America was like in 1916. World War I was in full swing over in Europe, America was trying like hell to stay out of it, and President Woodrow Wilson was LYING through his teeth to the people about EVERYTHING. That's when the "Espionage Act" was written and passed both houses of
Congress. It became a crime to speak badly about the government...and you could get paid for turning in your neighbor for doing it. And we eventually did enter the war, and people did find out about President Wilson and all his lies, and that was the end of him. You should do a little reading; check it out. It's almost unbelievable, except for the fact that we're living through it AGAIN.

Misery does indeed love company.

Perry leaves, not day after tomorrow Sunday, but the one after that, for a week in D.C. courtesy of Lockheed Martin. It's the annual vampire convention! That's what the blood donor recruiters call themselves. Brigidda is gone for 2 weeks with her friend and friend's family to Houston on vacation, and she left today. So it's just Janae and me, and her new hours go into effect next week: 12 noon to 9pm with an hour in the afternoon for lunch.

I'm bound and determined to get Miranda here for a few days by any means necessary. Angel too. It's a cruel, cruel summer/leaving me here all alone it's a cruel/cruel summer.......

'cept for TRIXIE-DIXIE-DOO !!(and Miranda, too!)

I think I'm in love with this one...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3HjIljJd-o0

A special shout-out to Annmarie, who will immediately and totally RELATE.

BWAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

(Six months of ZERO SMOKING was officially accomplished on May 28. Just don't ask me what I weigh.)

(X-posted in ebt_love community)

Hey, bully lovers! My name is Sarah, and I've been a member of this community for years, but I've not had a bully of my own---I've loved Pixi and Floyd and all the other beautiful dogs whose pictures have been posted here---but since we lost our Bijou in 2001, we haven't had the heart to replace her.

Until NOW! Meet Trixie, the new love of our lives...



And there are many more ( behind the cut... )
§ § §

We've had her now just a little over three months, and life is a whole lot more interesting, joyful and love-filled. I suppose we waited 5 years to get another dog because that was simply our destiny, or rather, this dog was our destiny. And since she just turned a year old, we expect to have her around for a long, long time.

I hope you enjoy the photos. Viva la Bullies!

It's been so long since I've written, I don't know where to begin, so I'll start with an arbitrary point: Perry and I have both been 100% smoke-free since November 27th. It worked! We worked it! It seems like something happens every day that makes me crave one, but the thing I always tell myself (which is true) is that the craving will pass whether I smoke or not. So let's not. Here we are, coming up on our three month anniversary, and while we are proud of ourselves, we know that we're only ONE CIGARETTE AWAY from our former addicted selves...

Good news is better to relate than bad, so here's my GREAT news:



Yeah!!! We had a BABY!!! Her name is Trixie, she's not quite a year old, and I swear, she has brought new life and great happiness to this house, which was long overdue. Yes, she looks almost exactly like Beezu...and yes, we treat her exactly the same way we treated Beezu...and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that! Bull terriers are such a singular breed, and there are so many traits common to the breed that you just can't help but notice and reminisce how your last bully did the exact same thing! And what's so amazing is that Perry can't explain why, out of the blue, he Googled "bull terriers for sale central Texas"...and lo and behold, there was Trixie's picture and a brief description from the seller that was just too good to pass up! Perry called and went to get her the very next day, down around San Antonio, and it's been love love love ever since. We're very happy, and Trixie is very spoiled, and really, it's just a match made in heaven.

Now for the not-so-great news: I've been really sick. I guess it pretty much encompassed the whole month of January, and it's debilitated me to such an extent that I've stopped volunteering until I've regained as much as I can of what I lost...I'm fighting, I really am. I've had what is known in MS-speak as an exacerbation, and it's caused weakness and incoordination on the whole right side of my body...particularly my right leg. I've fallen many times...one memorable fall occurred in my bathroom just as my home health nurse arrived to administer my IV steroids, and she had to help me get up. That was bad, because she was ready to call my doctor and have me admitted...to a NURSING HOME...right then and there! I managed to convince her that from that point forward, I wouldn't even try to go the 12 feet to our bathroom without using the walker, so she was mollified and let it go. I had a daily IV infusion of methylprednisolone, 1000 mg, for three days (it used to be 5 days), and now I'm going to physical therapy three times a week for a month. I am much, much better, but I haven't regained everything I lost...yet. I'm still weak on that side. I still crash into walls, but I don't fall. MS sucks, and I feel a bit guilty complaining about it, since it's been nearly 20 years since diagnosis and I haven't gotten NEAR a wheelchair when so, so many patients are forced into them early on and never get out....

*sigh*

I miss going to TMFF. I sleep a lot because I'm soooooooooooooooo tired all the time, and I hate that. And between the quitting smoking and the steroids, OMG, I've gained at LEAST 20 pounds. Maybe more---I don't own a scale, but I'll find out Wednesday at the pain management doctor.

Having this beautiful, affectionate, funny dog makes everything a lot easier to take, as does my incomparable husband. I really can't imagine what I'd do without him. And TERI: she pretty much dropped what she was doing and flew down here to give me something to do during that extended period when I was essentially bed-bound...HOW I LOVE MY BEST GIRL! She made such a difference, just by being here, holding my hand and letting me know that I'm NOT alone as long as there's breath in her body...

Next for me:

• get through my physical therapy
  
• practice it at home every day religiously
  
• start the diet I lost 15 pounds on last year
  
• love love love me some Trixie!
  
• as soon as I'm able, make it to Tulsa to see Teri (she and Dave moved there in October for his job)
  

And that is a pretty full plate. I'd like to get an elliptical machine somewhere in there, too, because it'll work so much the stationary bike doesn't....

Nobody needs to hear me go off on the Chimperor, and the many lies that are (finally) coming to light, and the wheels that are OFF the bus by now...so I'll spare you. I love me some Jack Abramoff, ditto Patrick Fitzgerald, who WILL obtain more indictments...it's just a matter of TIME...and of course, this week, good old "heckuva job Brownie" rolled right over on Bushco, and I LOVE IT!