Cuckoo to you

I watched the Zapdruder film yesterday. And, I listened to Kay Griggs for about two hours while I did my new Tracy Anderson method torture dance. It's kind of like when I'm reading crooks and liars and minimize the screen to go to Perez Hilton.
What I know, is that after awhile, people just move on to the next thing. With 9/11, there is never going to be justice, how can there be when everything has been destroyed; any evidence carted away and disappeared for the good of the perpetrators.
The bad, really bad moments I have with Jake lately are so disturbing that I have to very delicately work my way through the memory of how I got involved in the first place, and start from there and make it not happen. So, on a smaller scale, I want to change the history of an event; all, yet again for the greater good.

Do you only

I'm sick in bed, thusly there is time to think, not clear thinking; more that foggy pressured kind, where I wish I could be doing something else. And then there's the equation some of us are very familiar with. Sick=bad TV.
Eamon refers to the body of a person who has passed away as, "remains". I say it is the person. Is there a difference? I think so, I can't separate my body from my spirit. One reason is something I discussed previous in a post regarding the open casket aspect and an entire religious culture, one in which I had not participated for most of my life.
I am not used to being around someone who is not there anymore, so there may be a different interpretation of life and death and what remains and what doesn't. I am also so stuck in my own physical issues that one would need a wunder wrench to make some space. As the generation that came before me dwindles, I'm learning a great deal about how it all works, and what to say or not. But, what I will never be able to garner, is why the place from which we came, is so warm and soft and the one we end up in is cold and hard.

I'll make the best of it

I've watched a few movies of late that have enormous holes, plot leaps, discrepancies and basically no attempt to shore up any of that.
Wanted was a great example; Okay perhaps the illusion of being distracted by the actress and her otherworldly presence was enough for some people to let go of any sense of story, transition or continuity. Alas, not me. It's not just the suspension of disbelief here, it's the even if you're doing laundry, heart bypass surgery and shanking another inmate, you're going to wonder how the main character got to Europe in the time you blinked; even then.
Is it that our expectations have become non existent or that people and their silly attention spans don't need to worry about such small matters.
So, I lay in bed and think about the movie I just watched and how simple it would be if my life could jump or start somewhere new, where people might be less inclined to call me on any of the stuff that they usually do every day.

Sympathy and trust abounding

Okay now that we are in the dawning of a new age and all of that, I was wondering if Obama is not just a CIA operative.
Sometimes things are just too good to be true, or least they are extremely fleeting.
When I was in fourth grade, I crushed hard on Teddy Marcoux. He was part of that world of the unattainable. He was noble, popular and seemed so very comfortable and sure of himself.
As I am old now and things are blurry, all of the details are unclear, but what I remember plainly is that he nominated me for Student Council one day, out of the blue, with no provocation and then, we were going steady. It lasted two weeks and then it was corrupted by a friend who just could not tolerate the infraction of me thinking I could enter that world far above and beyond my station.

Trying hard now

No cynicism, no jokes. We have a new president. Let freedom ring.

That's quite a different subject

Relationships, now there's a light and airy subject. I jest of course, discussing the foundation and time consuming core of our lives is nothing to joke about. But when you find that none or few of them are working properly, and you feel bounced around and sort of lost, the only vantage for me at least, is humor or calgon, and because I have none of the latter, the ha ha stuff prevails.
But, not really, it's the traditional laugh until it hurts syndrome. It does sting and I'm finding nothing to invest in or value.
If I had a plan when I was a young mother, it was to be the best at what I was doing because in my life there had been a lack thereof. What I didn't know is that if I gave them everything, they would equate stuff with love and when I held back on the gear, they would take it quite personally.
Well, I'm holding back now and am in vanquish mode when it comes to sacrificing any more of my self to make them whole. The same truth holds regarding my old man. He has his thing going on, the one where he becomes a stranger in a familiar land. And I, no longer have directions.

Keeps the dream alive

When Jake was young he was frequently sick with throat and ear infections. He would get them every few weeks, and we would start the process of pain, fever, waiting to see if he could fight it off, medication and subsequently a short respite from distress.
At around nine years of age, his doctor suggested he get his tonsils out and that would most likely alleviate the problem. Ultimately, he was right but the process found Jake with a scary operation followed by secondary infections that became life threatening. We spent about a week with no sleep and lots of crying and frustration due to the pain and other issues.
One afternoon as I was trying to function with the old friend sleep deprivation and the fear of impending doom, I put on a Cornershop Cd. The sun was shining through the windows, Jake was lying on the couch spaced out, uncomfortable and exhausted. I was making dinner and went from the kitchen to check up on him and he was sleeping. The relief was enormous and I chock it up to the music; It took both of us out of the realm of illness and fatigue and really brought in the light.

That's the way

I injured my knee Friday. Underestimated the damage and tried to work through it. Yup, that's what I do, I attempt to overcome obstacles by either plowing through or ignoring them until they become insurmountable.
As I waited in line of an x-ray with like twenty people ahead of me, there was a gal there who was talking about how her husband's health benefits had been cut off by GM where he had worked for thirty years, but that she didn't like the idea of socialized medicine. Do people even know what that means, or how locked down the insurance companies,and doctors have made the entire system. There is no way their going to make it easy to attempt any change, they'll just drag down each inroad and any effect will take years.
I sat there and thought about how for every hope of advancement the people who make money and want to keep making it, are going to make it nearly impossible in every sphere, to actually make things work and force people to change. Talk about daunting.

No kind of feeling

Ours, I've realized, is the only job that you really have no idea what to expect on a day to day basis. I'm actually setting this as a challenge to my readers. I'd like to be disproved, but I can't find any profession that fits the same outlandish criteria.
Police know it's going to be a crime, injury, accident, they know they are responding to an incident. It's the same with Paramedics, Firemen, and Emergency rooms, These all generally fit a similar archetype.
In the Library, the last public place one can be without a reason, there is never going to be a template beyond research and or computer help. It can be anything.
Two days ago, a guy asked me for information on, "some movie called the assassination of Richard Nixon, that someone was making." I asked if maybe it was already made about four years ago, and found out some info from IMDB. Then, I got him some print outs on the actual attempt and was waiting for the last pages as he said to me, "You know I'm the guy who took the gun out of that fella's hand, the one that was trying to kill Nixon. And, I'm Forrest Gump, the real one, but no one ever tells you that do they!"
Nope, no one ever does.

Fighting for a lost cause

When Eamon told me that Sc0tt Hinckley, the brother of John, attempted assassin of Ronald Reagan, was supposed to have had dinner with Neil Bush the day Reagan was shot, I just gave up. I did, what more can they have their hands in, do they have superpowers. They come off as benign, yet that family has influenced and scarred the earth for decades.
My family on the other hand, is new at destruction and mayhem; My eldest, the cause and effect of this treatise, has crossed over to the dark side and I am again going to throw in the towel, and that's only because there is no other path for me to take. I can't live and make choices for another person, I can only stand by and yell.

We can control the medium

Today, this is all I have to share.

Until the house lights come up

In my quest to put some order to my life; which includes four other people and three dogs, so that is always a complicated endeavour, I was fixing a picture of RFK that Eamon bought when he went to Dallas a few years ago, to investigate JFK's assassination.
As I was re-taping the back of the picture I saw that beneath it, was a photo taken of my group of friends from "the college years" I was sitting in the middle of three couples, and Eamon was the photographer. This picture is up on a mirror, so as I'm looking at it, I see myself, and with that I started to laugh.
The two potent things about the picture are;
1) I was the connection between all of those people, so being in the middle was certainly apropos. 2) I was lovely.
That's when I really let loose; a lifetime of worry about my looks and all I had to do was look on the mirror.