Big Apple

Hurrah--my tix are finally bought for my excursion to the Big Apple for Cindy's birth-week. ;) I can't believe I grew up right in Upstate but didn't bother to see the place until now. You've got to understand, in Upstate, NYC is as common as say, Atlanta is for Athenians. Everyone goes into the city at some point, or lives there, etc., so it's not as flashy to New Yorkers as it is to the rest of the world. In fact, one of my friends in high school commuted to school from home in NYC. Strange but true. But far cooler than the city will be seeing Cinders again! Love you chica! ;)

Hunter S. Thompson Might Laugh

. . . and the hits just keep on comin'. Maybe I've entered a wicked twin dimension; a Twilight Zone if you will. But how to get out? Is this like the black box in Head? Or the alternate realities in the men's room? Think back, Self, think back! How did I get into this mess? Is there a way out? Maybe Time--maybe Space--maybe Mindset. What is the key? Where is it? Is there a key at all? Think back! Yes . . . I see it now. A murder, a blast from the past, a hopelessness I've known before, the heat, oh the heat, the sun hovering on a string above our singed heads, the arguing, the violence, the embarrassment, the annoyance, the feeling of one about to break. . . . Where am I now? In the midst of some terrible jungle--no, an ocean: "Water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink."--All I want is the desert. How did I get here? Is there a friend to pull me out? There is the fiction, so much fiction all crammed blissfully inside my head, but I can't get it out, it's overflowing--there's no time because I'm trapped and I can't get to a piece of paper fast enough. Forget the paper. I need some quiet. Everywhere I'm surrounded my noise, lights, colors, motions. Get me out of here! Think back, Self, and get your direction straight. There is a compass in your hand. Think back. Of all the humiliations and severed ties and broken bridges, isn't there someone around who can lend a hand? I need to find a method of communication. Morse Code? I've forgotten all I learned of it. A flare would bring someone--I've lost it. A fire! How to make one out of rocks and sticks? Wait. I can wait here till help comes. Help? In what form? Help as a human, help as an animal, help as another state of mind? How long have I been here? I'm losing track of days. Days and nights run into each other and meld into a fuming cantankerous gas. It quells me and puts me to sleep. I have to find the key but thoughts and acts are blurry. . . .

Lost With A Cause

Just got a call from V. He and L are engaged! Congrats!!!!! I want to take them out to dinner to celebrate. :)
EVERYone is getting married these days, and I do mean EVERYone. I think I only have a handful of non-engaged or married friends now. Boy was that fast. One day I was 21 years old with everyone telling me not to think about marriage and not to go too fast with anyone, and suddenly I'm 24 with my mom saying, "You won't be a young woman forever!" Ugh.
Today has been depressing. My boss decided to change my schedule on me at the drop of a hat and I'm pretty sure I won't be able to adjust. I'm meeting with her next Wed. and maybe we can work it out. I certainly hope so. I NEED this job but I also need to be free when she wants me to work. Decisions decisions.
This day hasn't been bad per se, this whole week and a half has been a killer. I'm just sad right now. Sad and confused. Part of it must be the lack of sleep last night and the fact I've been hot and not really eating that much.
Last night I dreamed I visited Alan Aimes (this Catholic healer) at his house and explained how sick I am and how it's "ruined my life." I began crying and hoping he could help me. But I didn't really believe he could. He told me to call him at 4pm. The whole thing was awkward. I woke up with tears in my eyes. I didn't even feel sick at all. In fact I've been rather healthy the past few weeks. I guess I'm just stressed to the gills and worried about the future: what I'll be capable of and what I won't be capable of.
What do I want to do? I want to save up some money, then join a volunteer missionary program for about a year or so, then perhaps sign on for longer in a foreign country--do all that and then see what my vocation truly is. Depending on what I discover, I'd either go back to school or get married or become a nun, etc. I'd also like to continue writing and playing/recording music. I can't remember a time when I didn't use those talents. I wrote my first song when I was about 2-3 years old (it's actually good and my family and I remember all the words) and my first novel when I was about 8-9 (it was awesome and I read and reread it every summer for years until I lost it.) It's just me. But I could see myself doing those things no matter where I was or what my vocation was.
I just want to get out of this transitional period. I need to pray a LOT more and give my direction to the LORD. Otherwise I'm going to stay lost forever.
I finally got my tickets for my visit back North. Wow, has it been awhile. I'm planning on seeing my entire family and very many of my old friends. Then of course there's the trip into NYC for a bit, though I've yet to make my JetBlue reservations yet. Maybe some more time away from home is just what I need about now....

The Vet

Well. In another few minutes I have to give a tranquilizer pill to Grasmere (my dog) because he absolutely hates the vet so much they make me sedate him before I bring him in. He's going in today to get his ear looked at and I just pray they don't have to operate on him. Eddy and I are both going to support the little guy. Awww. It's bad enough my car doesn't have A/C, so he'll be really uncomfortable even before he gets to the scary vet's office. :(
I dreamed last night I was showing a Monkees episode to JB on this bus and he kept laughing and saying: "This is good humor!"
I'm going crazy. :-P
It's probably because when I watch the episodes myself, I say that a lot: "Wow, what GREAT humor!" And then I watched a director's commentary and the guy kept saying the exact same thing.
The 3 things on TV I love the most I've loved ever since I was a kid: Three's Company, Quantum Leap and the Monkees. There was a long period in the 90s where I didn't watch or recall any of them, but now I'm back!!!
I "love" how all my posts are now about the Monkees. Ahem.
I've been playing a lot more music lately which is good. I'd fallen off the wagon for a bit there because I wasn't having any time for it, and then there was that "Oh no I can't sing!" stint that set me back. I still don't think I'm singing half as good as I used to when I was doing it every day for hours, but I'm definitely more on tune than before.
The novel just won't end! I'm too attached to these charcaters! I'm thinking of cutting the whole thing into segments when it's done (if it's ever done) and creating a teen series. Except for all the drugs, it's basically a teen novel anyway. Right now they're arguing about how to spend all the money, or if they should spend the money. Lauren's gonna get more alone time with Cletus which is always interesting....
Nesmith's "Elephant Parts" show is on its way to me!!! Hurrah!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. . . etc. (And the Laughs Just Keep On Comin')

I related this scene from a Monkees episode to a friend on the phone last night, and I literally began crying and going into hysterics. I was so worked up over it, I could hardly talk towards the end. That's right folks--I think this scene is SO FUNNY, I can hardly breathe when I even THINK of it.
Here is a paraphrase of it:

Monkees: With the phone not working and the fog blocking us in, how will we ever get a message out of this haunted mansion?
Mike: I'll attract a passenger pigeon. Then I can attach a message to it.
(Goes to the open window and places bread crumbs on the sill.)
Micky: I'll believe it when I see it.
(A pigeon lands and Mike picks it up.)
Micky: I believe it.
Mike: OK, now all I have to do is attach a message somewhere. . . .Oh, there's already a message on it. It says: I AM NOT A PASSENGER PIGEON. PLEASE DO NOT ATTACH A MESSAGE. OK. . . .
(He leaves and comes back placing bones in a line leading to the bedroom.
Micky: Where'd you get all the bones?
Mike: I found them in a closet. I figure they might attract a St. Bernard and I can put a message on it.
Micky: I'll believe it when I see it.
(A St. Bernard prances in and stops before Mike.)
Micky: I believe it.
Mike: OK, now all I have to do is attach a message to its neck, and. . . . oh, there's already a message around its neck. It says: THERE IS A MESSAGE FOR YOU ON THE PIGEON.

OK y'all, to be perfectly honest, I'm laughing out of control even as I type this so adios! I need some rest.
PS I fully understand that while amusing, this scene is nowhere near as hilarious to others as it is to me.
PPS Keep in mind its mainly the way Mike says these things that's so funny.

People Are Bigger

Oh hum. I'm so tired I don't wanna do anything but watch QL then sleep. But I have to wait till 2am. Ugh. I wanted Sonar to stay up and watch with me but noooooooo he wanted to watch Sopranos. So I'm all by my lonesome.
Ha, Cindy, I was just thinking about those gladiator guys who ripped us off in Rome. Every time I come across those pictures I feel a mixture of anger and love. :)
Today I learned that sometimes people are bigger than I give them credit for. D was actually quite nice to me today, even calling me after the funeral and implying we could stay in touch. Wow. And before that, K stuck around at the cemetery talking with me for quite awhile. I hadn't seen her in a couple years because she joined the Peace Corps and went off to Honduras. But I started to assume she'd hate me since D is her friend and of course D must've have very much good to say about me. But D and K were perfectly nice, almost going out of their ways to be. So I underestimated them.
The other night I bough 5 Michael Nesmith CDs. This is getting out of hand. Admittedly, I got them for very cheap prices (this is how I justify it), but it's the principle of it.
Who here has seen Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas?
"Did you eat all this acid?"
"Put the tape on."

Funeral

I didn't faint. But we all came mighty close.
I arrived at the funeral a few minutes "late" because I got trapped in the motorcade on ATL hwy. It was headed by fire engines, police cars and family and friends of BYN. The firemen all saluted the coffin in a moving display of just how much this local young man is revered and will be missed. When I found my way to the back of the cemetery where the military section is, the coffin was just being brought out of the hearse by six young and stoic soldiers. A commander barked incessant commands at them and each time he spoke the soldiers wheeled and turned. They hauled the coffin to the grave site and placed it over the hole in the ground. There was a tent sent up just large enough to shelter the family and some friends at the back. I stood out in the relentless sun for a bit until I realized I needed shade. I ducked under the tent right beside a water jug and ice box. Every now and again I'd take a piece of ice and run it along my face. It was absolutely necessary. I kept looking over at pregnant D: her face was scorched and she looked miserable. I'm surprised she made it through. I'm surprised any of us did. The problem with being under the tent was that we had to all huddle together uncomfortably. But it was better than frying out of it.
BYN's uncle, a rabbi who came all the way from Israel, said some prayers and words along with a rabbi military chaplin. An officer said some words and then came the firing of three shots. The six soldiers had been standing in position under the sun ever since they'd laid the coffin down. In their black berets they must've had some willpower. They fired three times, cracking the afternoon and spliting our eardrums. Then a solitary soldier in the distance played Taps on his horn while anyone who hadn't yet shed a tear broke down sobbing. Then the soldiers propped up three rifles in a pyramid formation, left it and took the American flag off the coffin. They folded it in the familiar triangle shape and gave it, along with three medals (the Purple Heart, a Bronze Star and one other I can't recall) to the mother. Then some of the family dropped some dirt and rocks on the coffin and it was lowered. It was all very moving of course but like K said, "The mother would just want her son back more than anything." The medals and flag and ceremonies would mean nothing compared to his presence.
BYN was a medic in the military--he never hurt anyone nor did he intend to. In fact, the officer read some words BYN had penned himself concerning his position in the war. He said something along the lines of how he was perfectly fit for the job, how it's what he intended to do. In all of the violence he wanted to balance out the vengence of the soldiers with good, with healing, with serenity. He wanted to help the Iraqis as much as the Americans.
At the funeral the officer mentioned how BYN had been a man of integrity and honor. I'm sure that's said at a lot of military funerals. But I knew BYN and the reason I always liked and looked up to him was that he clung to his faith with steadfast resolve, ignoring cultural norms and mores and daring to be that one different guy who was clean, trustworthy and gentle. He treated women with respect and he treated himself with respect as well. As I stood sweating under that tent staring at his coffin, I thought how true it really is that the good die young. I've heard it said that's because God misses them so much He wants to bring them Home sooner. Whatever God's mysterious ways, I know that BYN touched a lot of hearts, from GA to TX where he was at boot camp, to Isreal where he visited his uncle, to Iraq where he healed the wounds of people's souls and bodies and died fulfilling children's sweet demands.
Shalom. Hallelujah!

Will I Faint?!

One of my friends got something akin to heat exhaustion yesterday while I "almost" did. Now I'm heading out to the funeral, out in the big hot open sun. The big question is: Will I pass out!? Stay in tune ladies and gents to see what the answer is!!! :- P
Thank God the LORD lowered the temp and gave some cloud coverage today!

Michael Nesmith-from Woolhat to international bigwig

1. He wrote a song with my name.
2. His ma invented liquid paper.
3. He was kicked out of the Air Force for toppling over a captain's plane.
4. If the above story isn't true, it's awesome he started the myth about that.
5. He started music videos and MTV. OK, so romps were around for awhile, but actual videos as we know them today were invented by him.
6. He calls himself before the Monkees "a loser."
7. The way he sings that chorus in Here I Am makes me want to cry. I've played that one part on repeat several times already and it never loses that power. "Marie, my sweet Marie, here I am." Wow is that man talented.
8. Wow is that man talented.
9. He was backed on 3 albums by the First National Band and they had eagles and flags all over the place. Finally, a man born and raised in Texas and OK with it (who ISN'T Bush!) Those cowboy boots make me shaky. And no, I doubt he's a Republican. Even if he was, it'd all be a loveable part of the persona. He's Michael Nesmith, he can vote however he likes and he's still hip. I said he's Michael Nesmith, the dude can do whatever he likes!!! Let me think about that. Yeah. Yeah, he can do whatever he likes. (Almost.)
8. Once a year he makes 5 of the top geniuses in the world gather at his ranch in Nambe, NM and discuss what the biggest problem on earth is. They don't solve it. They just discuss it. No media or ANYONE is allowed but them. Then they leave and next year a new batch comes in. Nothing is solved; they just discover the problem. One time a dispute about Castro got so out of hand one of the members had to leave.
9. He brought his dirty laundry to the Monkees audition and asked how long the thing would take, since he had to get them in the wash (he was married with a baby on the way.)
10. He had lines in two of the Monkees' episodes that said, "Oxidentals are a curious people," and "There is a message for you on the pigeon."
11. He wrote Nine Times Blue. This song should be REQUIRED listening for all human beings, but especially rock n' roll fanatics.
12. When disputing musical control with the head dudes at the Monkees, he punched a hole in the wall and screamed, "That could've been your face, MOTHERF***ER!!!!!!!" while Peter Tork cried by the window.
13. Have you SEEN the guy!? What fashion! What sideburns!!! ("What a groovy lookin' chick, with sideburns like that....")
14. He wrote one of my favorite novels.
15. He invented the concept of creating "a third medium in your brain" by writing books with accompanying CDs. This man is far ahead of his time.
16. He almost never played softball with the Monkees when they had free time. He doesn't much like sports.
17. Depsite winning the first Emmy (or was that Grammy?) for a TV show (Elephant Parts) he doesn't really like TV either.
The list goes on....ouch my fingers hurt....
Things that are NOT cool about Michael Nesmith? He's had 3 "marriages." Ugh. What a creep! I wouldn't trust the guy farther than I could throw all 6'1" of him! What a yucky excuse for a husband! Blah!

Nine Times Blue (Another Nez tune but what can I say? The man's a genius!)

There's a certain something in the way
You looked at me and said you'd stay
That let me know that I was out of line
I didn't know what else to do
And like a fool I tested you
By demanding things of you which weren't mine.
Chorus:
And now I feel like such a fool
For making you crawl back to me
But you did it with such love
That you're standing far above
Me and all I did to you
I'm sorry now, what can I do?
I know that never in the world
Could I have found me such a girl
Who's there to pick me up before I fall
And if in the end we should go
Both our separate ways
I know the lessons I've learned here is worth it all.

Forget that Girl

What a day. I got up early to go with D back to B's house. The whole family was there...including some white people I'd never seen before. The girl was crying. Avi said, "That's Anne" as I walked in, but it meant nothing to be. In a back room with D, B explained that Anne was BYN's to-be fiancee. However, the girl didn't even know it yet; the family hadn't dropped that on her. Anne couldn't stop crying the whole time we were there--I felt incredibly bad for her. It was her first time meeting her boyfriend's family and it had to be around his funeral.
Tomorrow the funeral will take place. I'm wondering if it'll be a military one with the flag and the gun salute and taps played. It very well might be. He's being buried in the veteren part of the cemetery.
D and I hung out for a short time afterwards. What a strange situation. We haven't spoken in months but there we were, joking and talking as if nothing's happened. I guess that's how things are with someone you've known as well and for as long as I do her: no matter WHAT you do to each other, you'll always get along in a certain way. She probably despises me in one way, but still "loves" me in another. After all, we were best friends for 11-12 years. On the other hand, I backed out of being a bridesmaid at her wedding with 10 days to go. It was a long story...very long. Anyway that's just not a little glich one can overlook.
I was talking to JP the other day and he asked if this meant D and I would be seeing more of one another in the future. I didn't even hesitate to tell him no. I won't even call her after the funeral tomorrow. But then I hastened to add: "But that's not how I'd like it. If it were up to me, we'd go back to being close friends, seeing each other all the time. I'd like to hang out with her, keep up with her life, and call her often." But you just can't go on doing that if you're not wanted. How do I know I'm not wanted? Because I know her better than I know myself. She's the type that can have a great time with someone, laugh, kid, share inner emotions, etc.--and then still come to the conclusion your past flaws will forever taint you. It's just her. No matter what I do or what I say, I'm forever blackballed from her life. It's not just the wedding. It's a lot of garbage going back several years. Isn't it sick how a best friend can turn into such an arch-enemy? I wish I could change the things that happened, but I can't turn back time. Regret is one of the worst emotions I have ever felt. There are a lot of things that I would alter if I could time travel, but some of the problems she and I had would have to hover right near the top 3 or 2 slots. Not that everything was my fault--no way! But it always takes two to battle. In other news, I wrote a pretty good song last night before sleep which is promising because although I've been converting poems and psalms into melodies a lot lately, I haven't been writing many of my own lyrics--not for a couple weeks.

The Girl That I Knew Somewhere

You tell me that you’ve never been this way before. You tell me things I know that I’ve heard somewhere. You’re standing in the places and you’re Staring down through faces, that bring to mind traces Of a girl, a girl that I knew somewhere. I just can’t put my finger on what it is That says to me watch out! don’t believe her. I can’t give any reasons girl, My thoughts are bound down in a whirl. I just can’t think who in the world was that girl; I know I met her somewhere. Someway, somehow this same thing was done. Someone, somewhere did me this same wrong. Well, goodbye dear, I just can’t take this chance again. My fingers are still burning from the last time. And if your love was not a game, I only have myself to blame. That’s as may be, I can’t explain. Just ask the girl that I knew somewhere. (words and music by Michael Nesmith - transcribed from the Monkees Pocketbook of songs - 1967 - raybert productions, inc.)

Daily Nightly-think I posted this before but oh well: genius deserves its just desserts

Words and Music by Michael Nesmith

Darkened rolling figures move thru' prisms of no color.
Hand in hand, they walk the night,
But never know each other.
Passioned pastel neon lights light up the jeweled trav'ler
Who, lost in scenes of smoke filled dreams,
Find questions, but no answers.
Startled eyes that sometimes see phantasmagoric splendor
Pirouette down palsied paths
With pennies for the vendor.
Salvation's yours for just the time it takes to pay the dancer.
And once again such anxious men
Find questions, but no answers.
The night has gone and taken it's infractions,
While saddened eyes hope there will be a next one.
Sahara signs look down upon a world that glitters glibly.
And mountain sides put arms around
The unsuspecting city.
Second hands that minds have slowed are moving even faster
Toward bringing down someone who's found
The questions but no answers

Wow. I'm still up. M and I stayed up all night wearing cowboy hats and playing with my prop gun.... Could my life be any stranger?
When 5am waltzed by we took a look at ourselves and said, "If someone saw us right now, they'd think us insane." We probably are. Good thing I like it that way.

You'll find that life is a ball again, laughter is calling for you....

I finally got to see the finale of Three's Company. Though I always knew what happened, it was odd to actually see it. Terri quits her job to go to Hawai'i; Janet gets married in the famous apartment to the guy she met at the reading of the old guy's will; Jack asks Victoria (whom we barely know) to marry him and when she refuses, he merely shacks up with her above his bistro. How infintely depressing. First of all, Jack Tripper CAN'T fall in love, it goes against his very nature. Second, Janet would probably get married but it wouldn't be to such a stuck-up weirdo. Third, who cares about Terri? But since they made her a part of the show they might as well as given her a better out than Hawai'i. Here's what should have really happened, so that no one's heart would have been broken:
Mr. Furley's bad brother Bart fires him and takes over the apartment complex himself. (If he doesn't do this, he could assign a mean landlord instead.) Broke and depressed, Mr. Furley has no idea what to do or where to go. Meanwhile, the new landlord is so horrible he either kicks out the kids (plus Larry) or they decide to leave of their own accord. One thing leads to another and through some strange turn of events the kids find Mr. Furley another landlord position (since that's all he knows how to do.) It's got to be something crazy, like they trick a millionaire into hiring him thinking he's the real deal; or he finds out his long-lost cousin owns a building that needs a landlord, etc. Obviously the kids move in under him and the whole show continues as is, only it could be out of LA. Let's put them in a different country, or Hawai'i or Puetro Rico. I don't know. Somewhere fantastic where 20 years later we can still imagine Janet shoving a playful Jack off her while Larry gawks on and Mr. Furley refuses to fix a leaky faucet. Of course a 40 year old Jack wouldn't have been any fun (try to imagine the pathos of a middle-aged Larry hitting on bag ladies while pot-bellied Jack makes his move on a grandmother. Shudder.) But the idea is that it "could" be going on, somewhere in another dimension, somehow. I mean, the characters are fictional anyways, right? So keep it fiction. Don't try to make them "real" by giving them "normal" endings. Quel triste! In a planet that offers little compassion, how come we can't have a "loveable space" where they're still "waiting for" us somewhere up in a satellite?
In my heart I wanted Janet and Jack to get married, but it wouldn't have made sense in a way. She could marry an outsider I guess, but he'd have to have become an intimate member of the cast--someone who was more of a friend first.
What a shame they just threw the ending together in 4 shows.
And yes, I take my TV Land *very* seriously, as you can well see. ;)
Ah well. My one consolation on this is that tomorrow night Chrissy and Janet will be finding Jack in their tub asleep and the whole thing can start over again. Before I know it the ill-fashioned finale will be a bad memory, like a nightmare that fades with the morning light....

Psalm 137

That was the best rap concert last night. We didn't stay the whole time, but I hope to see them again soon. They had so much energy and ability. The rapper reminded me of a cross between 2pac and Flava Flav. Imagine that. Tomorrow I should be having lunch with the drummer!
The Spirit is really working with FC and me! I've been thinking lately that if he'd only join the same mission as I, then we could be together. But first of all, I didn't know if the programs would allow non US-citizens and secondly, I didn't want to even ask him. That's a decision one needs to make on his own after much prayer. There was no way I was going to pressure him into becoming a missionary.
Then today he emailed me and said he'd thought up a good idea: he'd apply for the same program I do. I was stunned. I haven't mentioned this sort of thing in months. I'm giddy beyond belief right now! I'll keep everyone updated on what we're looking into and where....
Talked to BYM's sister today. She was holding together much better than I'd have imagined. She's having to be "the strong one" in the family I think. She's also probably still stunned. She said the media has been crawling in their yard wanting to make a feature presentation out of it but her mother still is too broken up to talk. The funeral should be next Monday or Sunday.
Apparently that story made it all over the nation. My grandparents in PA heard it, my mom in NY heard it and my dad in Ohio heard it.
Shalom!
"Woe is me, that I am an alien in Meshech, that I must live among the tents of Kedar. Too long have I had my dwelling among those who hate peace. I am for peace; but when I speak, they are for war."-Psalm 120
I'm off to try and go to Mass.....

We just got back from bringing flowers and a card to BYN's family. Only the mother was home. I asked about the funeral and she assured us we could come, as "y'all were his friends." What could I say to her? She wans't crying. She was calmer than we were. I think it was pure shock. She seemed honored that NPR had put her son's name on the radio, and she also didn't know he'd been printed up in the paper. I even made her laugh, by recalling how he used to make fun of his sister all the time.
I just looked his name up online and found a succinct description of what occurred:


A 24-year-old Athens-area man was the sole American soldier to die, along with 18 Iraqi children and teenagers, from a suicide bomb in Baghdad on Wednesday, military officials confirmed on Thursday.
Spc. "BYN" was said to have been giving out candies and toys to a group of children with his colleagues when a suicide bomber careened his sport utility vehicle into the crowd, according to the U.S. Department of Defense. The attack killed a total of 27.

"BYN" had been dispatched to Iraq in January, said an infantry spokesman. He is from Bogart in Oconee County, just outside Athens, where his family still lives.
His sister said the family received the news Wednesday and is still too distraught to speak to the press.
"We really haven't had the chance to digest the news," she said on Thursday.
"BYN" was assigned to the 1st Battalion, 64th Armor Regiment, 2nd Brigade Combat Team, 3rd Infantry Division, Fort Stewart.

Son of the Right Hand

I just got a call that my friend, BYN was killed by a truck bomb in Iraq on Wed. He had just joined the military and had just left for Iraq. I knew him through his sister. I'd always joke with her: "Would you be mad if BYN and I went out? Ooh! He's soooo cute!" He would smile at me whenever he saw me. Then one day he signed up for the military. It was a shock to everyone, but I assumed I'd be seeing him around after his service ended. He hardly got a chance to be a soldier. Now I'll never know if he had a crush on me or not.
The words I feel inside about this war and this president are too vulgar to type or say. Lately it seems like so many young people are dying, so many young people who were beautiful and good-hearted.
BYN was a religious young man. I'll be praying for him. Maybe one day I'll get to see him again in heaven. His name in Hebrew means "son of the right hand" or "son of the south." He was a son of the South for sure, and now I hope he's at the Right Hand of the Father.
I'm actually in shock right now but I can't stop shaking. Ever since I got the call I've been shaking. His sister's phone is too full of messages to leave one, so tomorrow morning SB and I are taking flowers out to the home. I wonder when the funeral will be.
Just a few hours ago I was on the phone with a friend discussing Iraq; but I never imagined it'd come this close to home to me.

I just heard that one of our bishops was martyred in Kenya, shot to death, yesterday. Last year Kenya brough in the most amount of martyrdoms as well. What is it about that nation?! I'm going to find out more details about the bishop in a few minutes. I just saw it on CNN.
Trivia was fun yesterday--our team was in last place but hey, I was startled at how many questions we actually got right. Like, who are the top 2 grossing country artists of all-time? Hint: one's male, the other female, and they made their $ in the 90s. Then we got a question right about the movie Tommy. Cinders, I tried calling you for reassurance on this one, but I stupidly ASKED the guy in charge who then told me it was against the rules. I shoulda just called. But we got it anyways: Elton John. Then: Cynophobia is the fear of what? J knew it off the bat. Incredible. R knew that Al Pacino played a blind dude in Scent of A Woman. No one knew what Homer Simpson's barbershop quartet, the B Flats', hit song was.
I don't care if we come in last every time, trivia's actually fun! Well, if CJ's hosting it and if J and R are there. :)
Edison's been MIA for 2 weeks now. Well, not really missing; he's just house-sitting but it feels like he's in Zanzibar since I haven't seen him. He's "all the way" on the other side of town. Ooh.
I miss him though. I've had to "feed the possum" (take out the trash) twice and kill a daddy-long-legs. I've also watched All's in the Family alone a few times and just now they started rerunning Quantum Leap and it's just not the same without him here. :( He got the brunt end of it though. Where he's at there's no internet and no TV! Maybe he really is in Zanzibar....
I'm back home now. I want to sleep but I know I can make it till 2am when QL comes on. I think I can, I think I can....
Favorite Elvis song of all-time?
Mine: Suspicious Minds OR In the Ghetto OR Battle Hymn of the Republic medley. (JA knows what I mean on this one....)

Hungry!

Here I am at a friend's house. He fell asleep and now I'm passing time on his PC. I'm getting a pretty cool job soon. Yay to CJ for setting that up.
I've been busier than I can remember this past week or 2 and that's great because idle hands are baaaaaaaaad. Hopefully I'll be able to teach catechism this Fall; I just need to keep my job #1 or 2 because $ is important right now. OK, I need to wake this guy up and try to get some groceries down at Earth Fare. I'm in love with that Ezekiel 4:9 cereal. Some soy milk and honey and mmmmmmmm. This is what I eat while I watch Three's Company before bed.
Don't know what's going on with boys. Two boys brought up marriage a few days ago but then there's busy FC in Nigeria, promising he'll get that visa....
Stayed up all night on the phone with IK discussing politics. O was against debt relief for Africa so of course I had to ask IK if all Nigerians felt that way. He said no, but a lot do. The politicians in Africa are corrupt so they waste the borrowed money then expect the debt to be forgiven. So many of the average Africans want them to be held accountable. If the debts are enforced, it might crack down on corruption. But IK also explained that on a deeper level it all comes back to the averages folks anyway, so even though you're letting the bad guys off somewhat, debt relief is commendable. I was just shocked that anyone from Africa would be against it.
IK and I want to partner up to write about the Biafran War. It'd take a lot of time, interviewing and research, but I think we could do it when he graduates and before his internship. Maybe. It'd be fun anyways. IK and I always have a supposed project in the works, even if it's out there. He put me on the line with ZZ who's been MIA for weeks. I scolded him until the cell ran out of juice. :)
The State of GA executed another man the other day. I didn't know him, and I didn't find out the nature of his background. I just know that the whole murder-as-legal thing makes me sick and I pray it ends one day.

Truth or Consequences

Wow. I used to think that Carefree, AZ had the coolest name of any town, but now I've found Truth or Consequences, NM. I wonder what the history is of THAT name?

Oh no, I just did the reserach and it's not that cool, after all. Sigh. At least they have a region or lake or something called Elephant Butte.
http://www.truthorconsequencesnm.net/

My Hero

Today I got my baby to talk a little about his dad's involvement in the Biafran War back in the 60s, but he had to go before he could tell me (again) about the time he rounded up some murderous cult (gang) members at his last university. He's actually a hero. He did that when he was about 20 years old. When I was 20 I was thinking about which venues would host my band. Not bad but, c'mon.
Anyway, today he told me that he's becoming a little involved with a certain group that has to remain nameless since this is the internet. But it's actually very dangerous and very...awesome. If this group were to accomplish it's mission, the world as we know it would be very different. I've known about groups like this for some time and respected them, even wanted to help them, but never got to it. It wouldn't be dangerous really for me to get involved. Long story. But this boy seriously gets my R-E-S-P-E-C-T for putting his security on the line to do a lot of good. In my mind (and a lot of other people's minds) he adds his name to the list of heroes throughout time and space who have stuck up for what's right and risked everything to fight for justice. I'm VERY proud to know such a person, and hope some of that bravery will rub off on me. I'm really not trying to go all Tracy (Sali and Cindy you know what I mean!) on y'all ("he's the greatest boy in the whole wide world!") but you've got to admit: rounding up murderers, joining a secret society.... I'd respect the guy even if I just heard about him on the news.

Sleepless in the Ghetto

Cinders, we must do it again sometime. :)
The Fourth went rather well. A friend stayed over and I wanted to get fireworks but then we didn't. I guess some forms of them are now legal in GA. We missed the fireworks show at Bishop Park but eh, every year it seems they get shorter. Then we stayed up all night watching a dumb movie and TV and playing Stratego and basically being weird. By 8am we were both a little out of it but hey---
The bad part was that at like 3am someone started banging on my window and then after we looked out we saw that my porch had been "broken into" (the barrier chairs removed.) It was probably some crack addict nut who wanted in. Ugh. I hate living in the ghetto! Thankfully my dogs barked and I did have a friend over so maybe the weirdo won't come back again.
My b-day gifts from FC finally arrived! Very cute! He'd put a fake rose in with a scarf (wrapped up with pretty heart paper), a letter, some prayer material, a sweet card with poetic lines written inside and *gasp* another very dashing photo of him posed in native wear, glancing over his shoulder at the camera being excessively cute. He looks like a young Igwe (king). This boy is truly amazing. I can't believe I finally find a cute, pure, smart, thoughtful, Catholic boy and he's got to be in Nigeria. What am I complaining about? At least he exists! For the longest time I just thought I was daydreaming when I imagined someone like him. Maybe I still am. Maybe I've finally lost my mind and this is the beginning of the end. Cute young pure Catholic boy? Suuuuree, riiiight: go get some sleep and relaaaax. See? Now I'm even talking to myself! I always knew I was a little batty.
Si told me that Jack Tripper was actually gay, thereby drawing battle lines and taking sides. I'm going to tell him not to talk about my boyfriend like that ever again. :)
Well, Sonar's off house-sitting a few streets over. He's like a 3-minute drive away but I still feel lonely since he's usually a 10 second walk away. Now if the crazy crackhead comes back I'll be alone! Wah!
I've gone about 3-4 days without real sleep so I think I'd better hit the hay. I have lunch with some friends tomorrow and want to appear relatively sane.

Home on the Range

Home on the Range
Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam
Where the deer and the antelope play;
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day.
Chorus:
Home, home on the range;
Where the deer and the antelope play.
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free,
The breezes so balmy and light;
That I would not exchange my home on the range,
For all of the cities so bright.

How often at night when the heavens are bright,
With the light from the glittering stars;
Have I stood here amazed and asked as I gazed,
If their glory exceeds that of ours.

Oh, I love these wild flowers in this dear land of ours,
The curlew I love to hear scream;
And I love the white rocks and the antelope flocks,
That graze on the mountain tops green.

On give me a land where the bright diamond sand,
Flows leisurely down the stream;
Where the graceful white swan goes gliding along,
Like a maid in a heavenly dream.

Yes, give me the gleam of the swift mountain stream,
And the place where no hurricane blows;
Oh give me the park where the prairie dogs bark,
And the mountains all covered with snow.

Then I would not exchange my home on the range,
Where the deer and the antelope play;
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Woodie, Monkees, & Me

"There is a message for you on the pigeon"-Mike Nesmith
"It's possum with a P (not an O). That must be some weird Northern thing"-Sones

Good thing Sony got my Monkees tape for me. Now I can stay up till 5am watching it! Heh heh. I don't even want to think about all the piles of work I have to do right now. It's easier and funner to watch the Monkees battling ghosts in a haunted mansion or playing sticks in a fake music video or running from mad scientists.

Traits I like in a guy:
Someone who's actually a GUY and gets guy stuff done. I'm not really into guys who like acting like girls. This is why I didn't like most of my boyfriends in NY--they all wanted to be girls (go figure.)
He has to be remotely good looking, but really it's his intelligence and humor and character that matters most. I want him looking good wearing a cowboy hat with the personality of M. Nesmith. Maybe he's lived on the streets for a while and got some street smarts. Then he worked his way off the streets and makes a decent living. I want him looking good with dust on his boots--he knows his way around a ranch. This boy's lean and hard and cool!
He has to be strong-willed and yet gentle when it comes to me. He has to protect me against weirdos and bad things and set me at ease.
I'd like him to be creative, but mostly talented at whatever it is he loves to do. He should have passion for whatever he's doing. I can't stand lukewarmness!
Taller than me!
C'mon is this REALLY TOO MUCH TO ASK!?
I have no clue why I'm sitting here at 5am watching the Monkees and thinking about all this.

If I weren't a Catholic I'd be the biggest, badest criminal this world has ever seen! (Refer to those Woodie Guthrie lyrics....)

My Hero

My phone line (and internet) went out a few days ago due to the rain (s Bell South said--weird); thus, I virtually disappeared from many of my friends' and family's lives. Then tonight during yet another storm, a particually vicious bolt of lightning blew out my TV. Well, Three's Company was due on in a few hours so Sones and I raced to Wal-Mart to get the thing replaced. Keep in mind that my VCR was also in that TV and there's no way I'm going even a day without the ability to watch "my"cherished Monkees tapes. No way. So we bought a new and better TV, and a separate VCR, and got back home in time for the show. But, as soon as we got everything hooked up, I looked at the old TV/VCR combo and it struck me with true sadness, that my favorite Monkees tape (# 2: the psychadelic season) was STILL IN THE DEAD VCR!!! I told Eddy who valiantly declared that tape was getting dislodged ASAP! I'd seen him work well around the PS2 so I trusted him. He asked for a butterknife and some screwdrivers and went to work at once. He busted up the bottom then unscrewed the screen, even shocking himself on some wires along the way. After about 20 minutes, he suddenly popped the tape out and presented it to me! My hero! Swoon! I attacked him with kisses (he tried to escape) and tried out the tape in my new VCR. It worked! Swoon! (This time for the Monkees.) I must add that later Sones also sang backup on the Three's Company theme as I was singing it, which alotted him another attack and an odd shriek-session by myself. Needless to say, he made my night. Thank you Sony, you mean more to me than Sam Beckett-the Monkees-Jack Tripper-and C3PO and the Tin Man all rolled into one! ;-D
PS My tone-deafness vanished as quickly as it appeared thank the Good God Almighty! But as I was finishing reading my half-done novel I noticed it got a little stale in some parts. Sigh.