Dick in a Box

A much better Hanukkah gift.

What Kind of Soul Am I?

You Are an Old Soul

You are an experienced soul who appreciates tradition. Mellow and wise, you like to be with others but also to be alone. Down to earth, you are sensible and impatient. A creature of habit, it takes you a while to warm up to new people. You hate injustice, and you're very protective of family and friends A bit demanding, you expect proper behavior from others. Extremely independent you don't mind living or being alone. But when you find love, you tend to want marriage right away. Souls you are most compatible with: Warrior Soul and Visionary Soul

What Kind of Soul Are You?

And on the fourth night of Hanukkah...

I am relieved my SIL survived the last night at home. My dickhead brother didn't follow through with his threat to continue his fight with her.

I called in the morning, then later in the morning, then around noon to see if my SIL was okay. And with each call, I grew exponentially more and more anxious. I'd already spent the morning crying on the shoulder of a dear friend and co-worker, so the wait to hear from her was very hard.

After talking for a bit, I gave her some phone numbers to call and some people to talk to. She'd eventually come to the conclusion she needed to leave with the baby, and I'd opened my house to her so that she could feel safe.

She left a message for him that she and the baby were safe, and that they needed to talk. We were anticipating my brother getting pissed, driving over here and creating an arrestable offense. Instead, he called. They got into for over an hour on the phone. In the meantime, I changed by niece into her sleeper, got her bottle ready, fed her and rocked her to sleep.

Then SIL came into my room and she told me she was going back. I was never really convinced she was sure she was doing the right thing. Thank God I have a friend who's been there, done that. Armed with the reality of spousal abuse victim behavior as my friend described, I was prepared for this possibility.

I have a headache.

And my sinuses burn. *sigh*

I need sleep - rather elusive the night before. Imagine that.

Happy Hanukkah (part 4)

How bad is it that I'm checking out an abused womens' shelter for my SIL?

And, no, I did not sleep last night.

Happy Hanukkah to me (part C)

I have a black and white picture of my parents as they're boarding a train for their honeymoon trip to Chicago. It's framed in a nice contemporary frame with a mat border, and it stand on my dining room buffet right next to my mother's old electric menorah, which is dutifully lit and displaying the third night of Hanukkah.

I just got finished telling that handsome, young father of mine, dead for more than 29 years, that he SHOULDA KEPT IT IN HIS PANTS.

Fan-fucking-tastic night.

Happy Hanukkah to me (part deux)

Looks like crying won out.

Happy Hanukkah to me

Our planned dinner at my house was spectacularly dysfunctional. I thought I was going to have to call 911.

I'm not kidding.

Not at all funny. Completely fucked up, in fact.

I don't know whether to cry or tell my SIL to take her daughter and leave my brother. He would not like what I would say at any divorce proceeding, particularly with regard to custody.

I have made some seriously bad judgments in the last two years. One is buy this condo and the second was sending a letter of recommendation for them to adopt. And now I'm totally in love with a child whose father - my brother - is a heartless, abusive prick.

Under normal circumstances, I'd eat something, but this is bad. Really BAD. One of those majorly BAD times when the desire to eat disappears.

There's not a goddamn thing I can do about this either.

Prez Tease!

I LOVE this guy!!!!

Do you trust your HR Director?

Bitch of the first magnitude. Bee-YOTCH, if you will.

How do you trust a Human Resources Director who is indiscreet and bitchy? How do you take problems to an HR Director who can go from passive aggressive to downright actively aggressive in the span of 8 seconds? How can you rely on an HR Director who gets a thrill from control and passing judgment and gossip? What if you've observed displays of utter contempt by your HR Director towards the person who reports to her?

SHE'S. YOUR. HUMAN. RESOURCES. CONTACT.

Nearly everyone in the company sees this. That alone would be funny if our Human Resources Director wasn't taking out her frustration with [insert personal/professional issue here] on the one person in the company who has no power and no voice.

I listened in as HR Bitch phoned her whipping girl at home (waking her up), looking for batteries. I listened as HR Bitch hung up without thanking the woman once she found them. I heard HR Bitch walk away from the phone mumbling "well, I guess she'll be late again".

I'm aware of many more incidences of unrestrained displays of disdain in addition to this.

In the meantime, what do you do for the poor woman who's terrified to tell her supervisor, the HR Bitch, she's sick? A woman who knows she will get The Sneer™ and then The Dig™, and knows that bronchitis verging on pneumonia in HR Bitch's world is no excuse for leaving work early to see the doctor, or to get a chest x-ray or blood work.

What do you do with an angry and cruel Human Resources Director who is clearly unfit to direct resources that are human?

Just throwing it out to the universe. I know there are no easy answers.

My Mitzvah (good deed to all you goyim out there)

Completely despairing of the genocide in Darfur, I have made a donation with the hope it makes a difference.

After NBC's Ann Curry did a report from Darfur, and seeing the violence bleed over into Chad, I felt compelled.

I just don't get it.

What insanity - this creation, man.

Having a new niece means...

...you have to rescind your previous declaration that you will never do another family Thanksgiving.

...Hanukkah is going to be very expensive.

...you spend more time with your brother in the last 4 months than you have in the last 10 years.

...you're going to have someone you'll enjoy bequeathing something to! (Provided she doesn't turn into a jerk.)

...worrying.

...not enough kisses and hugs to give.

...so much love and not enough ways to shower her with it.

Hmph.

I'm going to cuss now...

As if the biker bar across the road from my front porch (owned by a former pro hockey player) isn't enough, now we have the Monkey Bar, an "over 21" night club and St. Charles' "only" night club.

And. It's. Right. Across. The. Street. From. Me.

I can see the damned thing while my dog is taking a shit in the yard. Whee.

So. Biker Bar. Monkey Bar. Oh, and let's not forget the 24/7 Gold's Gym juice bar. That one's going up at the entrance of my subdivision.

Yeah. I LOVE the smell of lost properly value in the morning.

Well, so much for the "conservative stronghold". That's what a man at the Claire McCaskill rally call St. Charles county "conservative stronghold". Well, there's conservative and there's "Hey, just let me rub my face in your tits for 10 bucks, honey."

I somewhat regretted moving here a few months ago - I'd lived in St. Louis county for 46 years - but I thought it was just me being snobby and I was going to hang in there and make a go of it.

Fuck that.

A good belly laugh awaits...

Just keep paging through...

http://www.capnwacky.com/thanksgiving/thanks_gal01.html

Happy Turkey Day!

I are a Sthar!

You are The Star

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Star is one of the great cards of faith, dreams realised

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future. They might say you're a dreamer, but you're not the only one.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Three Degrees of Stephen Colbert

Hokey-smokes, Bullwinkle! If it isn't Ken Jennings, all-time Jeopardy champ on The Colbert Report!

Why three degrees to Stephen Colbert? I work with Ken's aunt. That's one. Ken makes two. And Ken is guest on Stephen Colbert's show tonight!

Woooo hoooo!

And like our Mormon night, where his aunt was a terrific sport, Ken was equally gracious when Colbert poked some minor fun at Ken.

So close!

My Fish

A few months ago, I decided to get an aquarium. Shopping around, I picked up a bargain at PetSmart -- a Euro-type, cylindrical, "low-maintenance" aquarium system called BioUb. It was $30, including tank, filter, air pump, gravel, chlorine neutralizer. I bought a heater, thermometer and PH test kit, then set it up, added water and fish.

The fish: three angel fish. One nearly all black, one nearly all white, and one with black and white stripes. The last one disappeared. No body was found. Lacking a Fish CSI resource, I gave up trying to discover what happened to the mulatto. The black one and white one remain.

Now, the black one is being chased around the aquarium by the white one. Constantly. All the white one is missing is a white robe and pointed hood.

I think I know who the killer is.

Online groups

There are some truly whacked-out people in cybernet. (Not me, of course.)

It goes like this: One day, you're surfing the net, looking for sites that are interesting. You find one of these groups, join up, start to participate in discussion, feeling your way around. Then before you know it, you're involved. Eventually, you take on more responsibility, and there are issues with people every now and again. But for the most part, the people are nice, good, generous, fun.

And then, there are the nutjobs.

And if you're stupid enough to meet them in person, enjoy their company (read: you fell for that "normal" act hook, line and sinker), engage in chats, and personal internet exchanges, and subsequently watch as one begins to show all the hallmarks of a rather significant borderline personality disorder, then you have only yourselves to blame.

And, yes, I blame myself.

The Joy of Pre-menopause

July 23: Yet another period.

I did call the doctor, and he said unless they start coming less than 21 days apart, it still falls within normal parameters.

Hmph.

Well, I'm of an age where I should be headed in the LESS frequent direction, not MORE. No wonder I'm so cranky--every three weeks I'm banished to the Red Tent.

I should be glad it only lasted 4 days.

Two weeks to go for the next period. Or is it one?

Jesus.

The Neverending Period

I suppose I should be glad that I'm verging on the sunset of my menses cycle. However, the pre-menopausal crap is getting old very fast.

I get my period on the 10th of June. It lasts the normal 3-4 days, then sixteen days later I spot for a day or so. Two days afterwards, I come down with gastroenteritis, then 5 more days and hello! There's the old period again.

Now, 8 days have passed, I'd really like it to go now.

Really.

Ann Coulter is a C**T

I felt the need to get that out of my system and on the web. So there.

If it is possible for this condition to be pathological, then Ann Coulter is a pathological C**T.

And people who willingly shell out even one cent to suck greedily at the teet of the C**T, seeking to find even a modicum of wisdom that might be found in her slanderous and inflammatory fiction, are idiots whose idiocy is beyond measure.

No Joy in the A/C Department

New house here. Okay, condo. New condo here. New. As in not old.

I took Friday off for "me" time, so what did I do with my "me" time? I spent the day trying to get someone to give me a functioning air conditioner. It's 92 degrees F, for God's sake. It's a brand new house, for God's sake.

So... what happened?

Well, the unit just never turned on. So I did as I was instructed; I called the heating and cooling company. They asked me to see if the unit was running at all. Well, the unit didn't run. So it's the electrical current.

Two electricians come and check out the wiring. They take apart my circuit panel and test the wiring. The A/C wire in dead. No juice. Apparently, it's not unusual for the siding guys to drive nails into the wiring.

Monday, they're going to drop by and run another wire from the circuit panel to the unit. They will have to cut a hole in the walls of the unit below to do it. Thank goodness the unit below me is empty. The guys would have been working all evening to get this done.

I'm never moving again.

Wal-Mart v. The Christian Right

Anyone who knows me knows I try very hard not to patronize the vile retail behemoth Wal-Mart. Sorry, Walton family, but this ain't your father's Wal-Mart and you should be ashamed of your business practices and the way you treat your employees, you greedy b*stards.

Nevertheless...Wal-Mart gets props. From me.

I'd heard on the radio that that right-wing, anything-but-Christian group Focus on the Family is up in arms about Wal-Mart's decision to sell the DVD for Brokeback Mountain. This F*ckers on the Family klan (and, yes, the "K" is significant) seem to believe that a movie about star-crossed lovers who happen to be male should not be sold at their all-American, flag-waving, gun-selling, where-we-go-after-church-on-Sunday family store. Yep, no everyday low prices or smiley face is due this Academy Award-winning, $160MM-grossing film, because, GOD FORBID, the protagonists are GAY.

So, Reverend Dobson: don't give a second thought to the low wages and crappy benefits for Wal-Mart employees. Turn a blind eye to the hundreds of American workers who've lost their jobs due to company cut-backs and closures because of Wal-Mart's extortionistic buying practices. Forget about the mom-and-pop stores in the smaller towns whose prices have been undercut to the point where they have to close up shop and lay off people.

What the hell is wrong with them? Where are their Christ-like priorities? It's okay to stand by and watch a major American company roll over its employees, American companies with American workers, but for Christ's sake, DON'T YOU DARE SELL A MOVIE ABOUT HOMOs.

So...

In my own small way, I struck a blow to the F*ckers on the Family.

I had planned to buy my own copy of Brokeback Mountain from Amazon. F*ckers on the Family changed all that. I went to Wal-Mart and bought it there. My own very small jab at hypocritical, religious nutbars who would rather have Wal-Mart sell pistols and shotguns than a film about two men in love.

As distasteful as it was to hand over $17 to a corporate entity I loathe, I had to give them their props for not caving to pressure from people whom I believe to be far more dangerous: those who practice intolerance in the name of God.

YMMV.

My Auntie Moment

I'd just finished purchasing a baby shower gift today. My brother and sister-in-law are soon to adopt a baby, and the shower is next week.

I slogged to Babies-R-Us, printed out 16 pages of a baby gift registry (my brother thinks optimistically), and went trundling through the store in a cart that pulled to the left. Finding the Pack 'n Play Lite (an entirely selfish purchase as this is where the new baby will sleep when he/she comes to visit his/her auntie), I hurried to the cashier and checked out. I then wrestled the cart on a straight path to my car, dumped my niece's/nephew's bassinet/playpen/changing table Lite in the back of my car, locked it up and went to the Hallmark store.

I was buying wrapping paper when it suddenly occurred to me I'm going to be an aunt. Not in the very cool friend-of-Mom aunt , but a REAL AUNT! I became very emotional in the store, tearing up and trying to select baby shower wrapping paper and ribbon. I continued to be flooded with these feelings of elation -- it seems all my siblings and I have known for the last 29 years is disease, death, and insanity (not necessarily in that order). A baby is actually... a GOOD thing!

I was beaming with auntie pride and choking back auntie tears in Hallmark while I made my selections of wrapping, a curly bow, and a little gift bag for a birthday gift for a co-worker. I managed to compose myself to bring my purchases to the cash register. I'm gonna be an aunt. Yes. This is so life-affirming!

"Do you have a Gold Crown card?" perky sales person asked.

"No. I don't have it with me."

"Did you get your card at this store?"

"No," I replied, handing her my debit card.

"Oh," perky sales person looked sad for me. Okay, so no Gold Crown points. She swiped my debit card.

"Would you like this in a bag with everything?" she asked, indicating the tube of wrap.

"No, that's okay," I said indifferently.

She then looked at my debit card and asked, "Can I see some ID?"

It's eight bucks worth of merchandise, WTF would she need to see my ID for? I stared at her for a moment and then fished around in my purse for my ID, and produced it for her.

Satisfied that I wasn't defrauding Hallmark for $8 with a fake debit card, she handed me the receipt to sign. While I was signing, she put my purchases in the bag, held up the tube of wrap and asked, "Do you want this in the bag?"

Hadn't she already asked that?

"No." I said slowly.

"Okay," perky sales person said handing me my stuff. "Thank you!"

So I left, and coincidentally, so had my Auntie Moment. It disappeared in a sprinkling of perky, stupid, retail clerk pixie dust.

Little twerp.

On top of that, the shower wrapping turned out to be Pooh and Piglet birthday cake crap. A whole row of it stuck in the baby shower wrapping paper section.

Hallmark sucks.

Stick a Fork In It!!

It's done! My God, my house is done!!

I have floors. I have lights. I have kitchen cabinetry and appliances. Water flows through the pipes and the furnace is cranking out some major heat into the unit. My garage door opener is installed, my countertops and sinks are in.

Okay the pillars and railing for the front entrance still need to be installed as well as the concrete stairs to the unit, but WTF could take 15 friggin' days?!

Well, maybe it the friggin' trip to Vegas the friggin' builder is taking his friggin' staff on next week. Bastard. Of course we couldn't close this week. They're all going to Vegas. Far be it from me to complain about sleeping on an air mattress for six months - all I'm asking for is one day. ONE DAY!!

Away in Another Calvary

Well, the Church of the Weber Kettle is at it again, only this time, it looks as if they might be staging a live crucifixion. It's rather early for Easter, but I gotta wonder what's going on with 3 rather imposing crucifixes dotting the church's lawn.

Anyway... with the immense popularity of last year's The Passion of the Christ, I wonder if for Easter, the Church of the Weber Kettle will be reenacting Jesus' crucifixion. Right there. In front of God and everyone. Just a block away from the Dairy Queen, Wendy's, and Dominos Pizza.

I want to play Mary Magdalene.