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Today in My History

2000:  Guns and Condoms
2001:  The Problem with Visibility
2002:  Hope Springs Eternal
2003:  Product Endorsement
2004:  Nun-Sense
2005:  The Land of the Free
Wow--Has It Been Two Years?
2007: Hail the Mighty Ostrich
2008:  Brianna, 7 Weeks Plus
2009:  Noah, Jimmy and Melissa
2010:  Which Would You Choose?
Starting the Transition

Bitter Hack
Updated: 5/18

Books Read in 2012
 Updated: 5/24
"My Reading Life"

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Santa Barbara, April 2012


Hatfields and McCoys
Fighting over family dogs
Life is in turmoil

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Airy Persiflage

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mail to Walt


25 May 2012

Before reading further, scroll down and check the Photo of the Day.   This is a photo which a fan sent to actor George Takei and which he posted to FaceBook.  This was taken during San Francisco's annual Bay to Breakers, an annual foot race that starts on the east side of San Francisco and ends at the ocean beach on the west side of the city.  It is about 7.5 miles long and is best known for the elaborate costumes--or lack of clothing entirely--displayed by many of the runners.   The city seems to ignore any regulations about public nudity for this one day.

I have always been curious about those folks who run the race in the altogether.  San Francisco is the kind of town that just accepts that as what happens during this race, but think about it.  They arrive at the starting point and presumably disrobe there.  Then they run across the city, up and down hills, through Golden Gate Park and end up at the beach.  They are still nude.  What do they do then?

Do they get on a bus to go home?  Even if you have a friend come to pick you up, there are thousands of people in this race--what do they do until they meet up with their friends?  (The guy in this picture seems to be wearing a backpack and may have brought his clothes with him, but I have seen folks without a stitch on them and no bag in sight.)

[I'm just thinking that this may be a great opportunity for Jim of Jim's Journal, or maybe Kimberly of Thoughts Outsde my Head, who love to run.  I'll hold your clothes, guys.]

Ahhh well...these are the thoughts that flit through my head when I'm procrastinating.


Well, the next chapter of the Hatfields and McCoys has been written (literally) and things are heating up.  This is the e-mail I received today:

Yesterday (May 23) the dogs barked nonstop from 3:02 p.m. until about 3:25. Thanks for whatever you did at 3:25, but they definitely exceeded your 5 minute threshold pledge. Maybe you weren't home, maybe you were in the shower, etc., but it went on for 20+ minutes and I'm fairly sure would have continued much longer if it had been a longer shower, longer time away, etc. Like I said, in addition to the annoyance it causes for us (Virginia had to go take her nap at my office on one occasion, for example), I'm concerned about the new occupants of my place when I get it rented out. Please explore all avenues to find a solution (dog doors, making the garage their home, making indoors the norm and the back yard the exception, more electricity on the bark collars, etc.). What you're doing now isn't working. Thanks.

3:02 p.m.?  Does the guy have nothing to do but sit and watch the clock and hope our dogs will bark?  And he wants me to either keep them in the house all the time or increase the electricity in their collars? (FWIW, they don't have electric collars--I wouldn't do that to them.   They have collars that spray them with citronella if they bark).  Also, I would like to say that I was in the shower during part of that time and when I got out there was a dog barking continually.  I was happy that it was not our dogs and to be sure, I checked and our dogs were sleeping on the couch in the living room.

I just don't know where this is going to go but I am at my wits end (and apparently so is he).  I may be forced to give Lizzie and Polly up, though that will kill me (and who in the world would take Polly anyway?).  I have sent an SOS to Ashley.  I already am becoming a recluse in my own home because I am afraid of leaving for fear the dogs will bark.

Anybody have any suggestions?


Daughters.jpg (44794 bytes)I started reading this horror story this afternoon.  No, Freddie Kruger is not hiding in the confessional and nobody is going to invite the Criminal Minds team to investigate a series of murders in the sisters' laundry.

This book is about a woman who spent 18 years in a convent...and why she left.

I was intrigued because of the cover photo.  I have seen nun tell-all books before, but this woman was a Daughter of Charity.  That was the order I was going to enter when I left high school.  In thinking about my desire to enter the convent, I think back to the light-hearted bantering among the sisters, and to a bunch of things that made the whole camaraderie of the life style so appealing to me.  

My father was upset with the rule that I would never be able to return home again.  I was concerned about wearing wool in St. Louis in the summertime (a clue to the frivolous nature of my "vocation").

So I was curious when I saw this book...what had I missed out on?   The Daughters of Charity have three provinces and Ms. Beasley entered the eastern Province, so she was not in the building that I saw when I visited my friend, Sister Anne, in St. Louis.  But a mere reading of the first chapter of this book had me so very relieved that I was counseled to postpone my entrance and to think hard about my decision.   Despite the Vatican's current battle with females in religious life, being a nun ain't for sissies.  You leave your family and postulants are only permitted one letter a month to family, on a single sheet of paper, that will be censored before mailed, to eliminate anything of a personal nature.  Touching any other person is not permitted.  Thoughts of family are discouraged. 

When the door of the convent closes behind you, your previous life is dead.  New postulants are taught how to walk, how to eat (you can't mix foods together because that would mean you were enjoying your food and enjoying food is forbidden). Crying is forbidden, even when your father dies and you are forbidden to attend the funeral. It goes on and on and on and I haven't even come to the second chapter yet.

When Sister Anne came to San Francisco to have "the talk" with me and encourage me to postpone my entry, she knew what she was doing.  I wouldn't have lasted a month.  And if I had, I would have made a rotten sister!



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Too funny--I had to share


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