This is funny

I watch a lot of TV.
I drink a lot of coffee, too.
But you know what's really addictive?
Heroin.

The Tao Has No Pity

The Tao has no pity. The Tao has no face. The Tao does not hold out comforting arms. It cannot be contacted and cannot be used. It is silent and unreachable.

When one observes the actions of any of this world's gods, one sees the Tao. One sees a god with no pity and no face, a god not moved by entreaties, a god who behaves as though he is not there.

Does God exist? It doesn't matter.

A day with Joe

I just spent an hour with Joe. He changed my headlight for me. Don's been so grumpy; I didn't want to ask him to do it. I got to see Joe's shop and we chatted for a while afterward, too. It's always nice to see him. He looked a little thin and pale. I didn't get a chance to ask him how he was doing physically. Our conversation ran this way and that but didn't go there.

Was I powerful enough? Was I bitchy enough? Did I monopolize the conversation enough? No, not enough, but I did some. So our time together was a moderate success. I don't figure I'll see him again for a long time. I'll hope, of course, as I always do, but my hopes will be dashed, as they always are. Though you know, it's not that big a deal. It's not like we're right for each other. We aren't. He's into kinky sex and drugs; I'm not. Sure, he's funny and enjoyable to be around, but I need someone who's going to listen to me talk. I don't talk that much so I don't think it's too much to ask. Just a little, thank you, with a few questions here and there to show you care.

So we're not right for each other. I still want to be friends, and I'm not going to sit around waiting for him to call. That will never happen. I'm going to take matters into my own hands and invite him over, him and his little girl, to see our bunny and meet my little nieces.

I want someone I can talk to and tease with like I do with Professor Rogers.

Later: What a wonderful, lucky day! An old wish of mine was granted -- I got to go driving with Joe.

He called in the evening to ask a favor of my husband. Joe had dropped off a customer's car and needed a ride back to his shop. My husband wasn't in so I did the favor instead. I picked him up at his apartment (and got to see his new kitten) then drove him to his shop, 30 minutes away. We chatted amicably the whole way. We talked and teased. It's a beautiful drive and it was a beautiful evening.

I've always wanted to go on a car trip with Joe. And now a wish of mine was granted.

She's gone, and I've no idea where

I just did a stupid stupid thing. I'm a very bad mother. I let Rhiannon go visit a friend. An online friend. Who bought her a plane ticket to come see him. I don't know one thing about him. I don't know his address, or his phone number, or his chat name, or his email address. I haven't got one single bit of info to help me find him, except that he is a college student, his name is Will Ogden and he lives in Pennsylvania.

That's is. That's all I know.

I don't know where Rhiannon is.

I let Rhiannon have full control of this trip. I didn't meddle in any way. I let her be a grown-up. Now I'm paying the price through worry. I forgot that a real grownup doesn't make loved ones worry. She said she'd call but she has not. Yesterday I called the Will Ogdens in the Philadelphia area, to no avail. Tomorrow I call all the Ogdens in Pennsylvania.

Back from camping. We went for one night only as Rhiannon needs to get ready for her trip to Pennsylvania tomorrow. What a traveler she's become! And what a great time we had with the SCA. Weather was good, up till Sunday afternoon when we left. Our garb was great. We knitted. We met people. We stargazed. We watched the archery and the heavy fighting. I learned to juggle. We had a blast.

We became better friends with the Wardens and made plans to form an encampment with them at Talons of Fury in September. We'll have our own roaring campfire and entertain one another with medieval games, stories and songs. Our camp will be a thing of beauty, ringed with tiny lanterns and with a pavilion in the center. Maybe I'll make a new dress for the occasion. I've got tons of cloth to use up, after all.

Back at home, Rhiannon made herself a new pair of pajama pants. I helped. We had a ton of fun, laughing and giggling about all kinds of silly things. We have a new saying to laugh at -- "I'm stumped!"

Going Camping with the SCA

I'm going camping tomorrow, going camping with Rhiannon and the SCA. The event: Crossroads up at the Pawnee National Grasslands in the Kingdom of the Outlands. Tomorrow night will find me in a long flowing dress and a warm wool cloak, sitting around a campfire and listening to songs of love and glory. Huzzah! I'm very excited.

Stem Cell Debate

You're telling me that the miracle of embryonic stem-cell research must have federal funding to emerge? You're telling me that the souless, greedy, capitalist drug company lords are not willing to invest the money necessary to unleash what--if we're to believe most Dems and the ESC lobby-- could be the greatest medical advancement of all time (and consequently, the greatest money-making medical advancement of all time)? They're just passing on that?

Actually, those soulless, greedy, capitalist drug company lords hold the patents for this research. Since destructive embryo research resulted in dismal failure, the only way they can regain their investments is to be born-again as soulless and greedy socialists. They are using the BIO lobby to edge their way closer to Momma Sow's teat.

reprinted from http://www.townhall.com/clog/archive/050522.html#041944P

How to Overcome Shyness - Lesson Two: Thinking of Others

You got this way by thinking a certain way, but it's just not working for you. Are you willing to completely change the way you think? Turns out that popular people, extroverted people, think about other people. Really. You're going to try that too.

Your assignment: You're going to spend some time just thinking about someone you know. Choose someone. Now, set a timer or keep your eye on the clock, and think about them. What do you know about this person? Do you know where he/she is from? Is he/she married? Kids? What do they do for a living or for fun? And what do they think about all of it.

That's it. That's the assignment. Do it every day, choosing someone else to think about. You are practicing a hugely important skill, something that is vitally necessary if you are going to overcome your shyness. You are learning to think about other people.

How to Overcome Shyness - Lesson One: Being Happy

Do all your needs have to be met before you can be happy? What if only some of your needs are met, can you be happy then?

Yes, you can. You can be perfectly and completely happy when only some of your needs are met.

Your first assignment is to think of the things that make you happy, most especially, the things you can do WHILE ALONE.
Here's what makes me happy: Being in a library and thinking of how I'm surrounded by the thoughts of the human race. Being outdoors. Working in the garden. Playing with my dog. Watching my cat play with my dog. Watching my gerbils. Sitting in the sunshine. Taking walks at night. Taking pictures. Drawing. Writing in my journal. Iceskating.

Next time you do something on your list, I want you to do it wholeheartedly. I want you to feel the happiness within your body. You are not ever to think, 'This would be so much better if I were doing it with someone else.' Allow yourself to be happy alone.

When I Die

When I die, I want to be buried in the earth unembalmed. I don't want to be filled with preservatives or placed in a thick casket or entombed in a concrete vault. I want my flesh to touch the earth; my body to be cleaned by the bacteria and bugs; my bones to be stripped and purified.

My death comes, maybe slowly, maybe quick. Mortality weighs upon me, almost suffocating. It makes the present moment seem brighter -- the sun on the grass, the rustling leaves, the wind, the brightness of the street. I see these things from my office window. Inside are my office mates who one day will be bones too. This moment is precious beyond anything anyone can imagine. This moment stretches behind and ahead into eternity, and is itself eternity.

One day the thing that is me will be gone; only bones left. Same with Don. Same with Rhiannon, and Kendall, and Michaela. Their uniqueness gone. The expression of the universe that I loved, gone. The little bit given me, gone.

What remains? For people, only love matters. In the greater scheme, only the earth remains. Only the earth, and the sky, and the wind.

Freakonomics: What Makes a Perfect Parent?

An interesting book, for sure, but this chapter doesn't prove what it sets out to prove. What makes a perfect parent? Apparently it's your kid's test scores. Hmmm. Not whether he's a joy to have around? Gets a long well with his siblings? Does the dishes when you ask? How about if he's really good at what he loves, would that count? What if he works to make the world a better place? Well, no, not according to the author. That kind of stuff can't be tested. All that matters is test scores.

So right off the bat, the guy's judging parenthood by one of the less important factors in a person's life.

He starts the chapter by saying that apparently, parenting doesn't have much to do with how a person turns out. He goes on to say that going to a good school doesn't make much difference, either. A few pages on he talks about how kids do better in good schools than in bad ones, and he finishes the chapter by talking about how parenting makes a difference in the long run.

So what makes a perfect parent? I can't say. I don't think Mr. Levitt can say, either. I'm not sure I know what the guy believes, or even what the numbers show. Apparently the numbers can prove just about anything.

A lovely weekend

What a fantastic weekend! It was one wonderful thing after another.

Friday night: went out to eat with Rhiannon, then to a coffee shop where we ate chocolate, sipped lattes and talked about the meaning of life. I love that!

Saturday: I watched Finding Neverland, a wonderful movie about the man who wrote Peter Pan. I chatted with my chat group. I had a really neat revelation about accepting our limitations and circumstances. What if you were locked in solitary confinement for the rest of your life? What if your cell were pitch black? It would be utterly horrible! And yet, you still can choose how you'll react. Even in utter darkness, lonely and alone, there is an element of happiness to be found. Even then. So why do I complain about my spacious well-lit peopled cell? Because I want it to be even more spacious, well-lit and peopled, that's why. And thus I make myself unhappy.

Sunday: While walking the dog, I came across a bumblebee that needed help so I saved it. A bit further down the path I almost stepped on a rattlesnake. It coiled and hissed at me, showing its fangs. Pretty scary; pretty cool. Later, I had an excellent meditation on immanent and transcendent divinity. Also realized as I did The Work on my fear of others, that my fear wants to protect me from rejection, and when I learn to handle rejection (which I plan to do by rejecting it) then my fear will be able to sit back and relax. Also sat in the sun and soaked it in. God is Light. Is light God? Rhiannon gave me chocolate, Michaela gave me a card she painted, and Kendall wished me Happy Mother's Day.

A photographer

While out practicing my close-up shots yesterday, a little girl asked if I was a photographer. I hesitated a moment before replying, "Yes!"

I am a photographer. I'm an amateur who is just beginning her serious study of the art, but I'm a photographer nonetheless. I've been taking photos and reading photo books for years.

A photographer

While out practicing my close-up shots yesterday, a little girl asked if I was a photographer. I hesitated a moment before replying, "Yes!"

I am a photographer. I'm an amateur who is just beginning her serious study of the art, but I'm a photographer nonetheless. I've been taking photos and reading photo books for years.

Fairy Tales

I spent the evening reading the fairy tales of The Faun and the Woodcutters Daughter, an excellent collection of new fairy tales written in the classical fairy tale style.

• Fairy tales teach -- how to have courage, what to watch out for, how to be a hero.


• Fairy tales entertain. They are packed with beauty, danger, conflict, and daring deeds, all the stuff that makes a good story.


• Fairy tales remind us to view the world with wonder -- it's full of fairies and magic.


• Fairy tales encourage us to have hope. Though the witch has cast a spell on you, with perseverance and a pure heart, you can overcome it.

Are UFOs for real?

Are UFO's for real? I don't think so. Many people claim that the Army and NASA know that we're being visited by extraterrestrials but hide the truth because they don't want to cause widespread panic. I say baloney. Here's why:

First, a question to get you thinking: What does the Army need more than it needs anything? This is question goes to military theory. I'm asking about any army, any military, any where and any time in history -- the tall and proud United States Marines, the great fighting machine that was the Roman Legions, a band of braves on the North American prairie. What does a fighting force need?

First and foremost, it needs an enemy.

Ain't nothing for it to do if there ain't no enemy.

Extra-terrestrials would be the perfect enemy. If the Army or NASA could prove that we were being visited, then their budget would explode. They wouldn't have to close bases or deal with budget cuts. We'd throw money at them! Our best and brightest would sign up to deal with the alien scourge. Warriors and scientists and explorers of every stripe would be salivating to get their hands on this problem. Thank God, something to do! What a fantastic challenge! The existence of extra-terrestrials would be a good thing for NASA and the Army. That's why I don't believe in a cover-up.

Kendall turns 18

I wondered all day what surprise she'd have for me now that she's reached her majority. You know how kids ask to do crazy things, and the answer is generally 'Yes, when you're eighteen!' So what will she have today? A tattoo? Bright green hair?

Later: It's a tongue stud. And a pack of cigarettes. So after dinner, the girls and I went out on the porch and had a smoke. Really. Even Michaela, who's 15. The girls all looked pretty cool and sophisticated with their cigarettes. They obviously have more experience than they've let on. For me, that was probably the fourth cigarette I've ever had in my life. I learned something, though. I learned that sitting around smoking with friends is a neat way to pass the time. You talk and shoot the breeze. I had a good time.

Scary Tarot Reading

I frequently do spreadless readings, in which I ask a question and draw one card to answer.

My latest tarot reading scares me. I asked, "What can I do to get Joe out of my head? I don't want to think of him all the time anymore!" I drew the Two of Cups, which means friendship and love. In other words, the cards are saying, Don't bother . You two are going to be close. "But what about Don?" I asked. I drew the Five of Cups, which means grief and loss. Oh no! What's going to happen to Don? I don't want anything to happen to him. I love him. Yes, he's hard to live with, but I love him. I love both of them.

The Lovers, The Hermit, The Chariot

I drew three cards for a Tarot reading a couple days ago, asking "When will I understand what life is all about?"

The cards were the Lovers, the Hermit, and the Chariot. What could it possibly mean? I wasn't able to intuit the meaning immediately, so I pondered the answer for a few days until it became clear. (One problem with understanding Tarot is that so many people say so many things about what the cards mean. You can get pretty confused.) It was actually quite simple, really. Just read the cards straight up and there it is. I'll understand what life is all about when there is perfect union between the lone seeker and the master of the physical world. I'm the Lone Seeker; the Hermit is my significator. I figured that the Chariot referred to my husband, who is Mr. Fix-it. So, perfect union between the two of us -- that's a tall order!

But later I got to wondering. What if the Chariot referred to Joe? It could. And the Lovers -- that's our card. The card for Don and me is Temperance, that is, combination of different materials. So, anyway, a few days later I was sitting with my cards, asking questions and drawing one card per question. What would be the significator for Joe, I asked? I drew a card, while thinking "I'm not sure I'll believe this answer." But guess what the answer was -- it was the Chariot.

A Stoner Party

The phone rang at 9:30 pm last night. I was right by it so I picked it up on the first ring. My husband must have been waiting for the call as he picked it up on the first ring too. "Hello?" we both said. "Hey Don, it's Joe," said Joe's voice. "Come on over." "All right, see ya," answered my husband. We all hung up. I felt a little shaky. My heart pounded in my chest. Joe's voice! How I used to long to hear that voice! Just hearing it used to make things all better. And now there it was, asking my husband to come over. Don was out the door in ten minutes. I know what Joe wanted -- he wanted someone to smoke pot with. The two of them were having a stoner party.