Author: Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

Neener Neener

I have written a new song.  Draft lyrics include

Heard

You Got

What you deserve!

And the band played Neener Neener

Luck ran out, you didn’t swerve

and the band played neener neener

Lie and bully, steal and break

and take and take and take and take

You think there’s been a big mistake

and the band plays neener neener.

Cuffs and cruiser, bruises too

Cause when you run, that’s what cops do

You’ll have time to think it’s true

and the band played neener neener

Textbook, what one should avoid

Wouldn’t stay in school, couldn’t stay employed

Can’t pronounce right but it is SCHADENFREUDE

and the band played neener neener.

Maybe you will get six months

and the band played neener neener

We’ll get relief from being played as chumps

and the band played neener neener

Maybe you will take a hint

and not have brains like dryer lint

Please enjoy your jailhouse stint

and the band played neener neener.

Yes, the tune sorta resembles Deep in the Heart of Texas.

NeenerNeener

Candle lighting

I light a candle for Katie and a good 25th year for her.  She’s off to a good start.

I light a candle for Julie, whose pregnancy is so difficult she will be in hospital until the baby is born.

I light a candle for Chipper, who is sounding more so.  She has the WORLD’S WORST CONTRACTOR, at least as far as memory serves.  Her cable provider does unspeakable things to long dead goats, also.

I light a candle for Rebecca, who recently started coming to church and who has a simply charming babe in arms.

I light a candle for Lois and her midwifery dreams.  High hopes, high hearts, dear one!

I light a candle for Jeff, who ate an entire batch of cookies yesterday.  It is a special mercy of providence that I’m only making a dozen at a time, I’d fear for his safety otherwise.

I light a candle for Keith, who is enjoying his new job, both in terms of the level of competence of his coworkers and the fact that he’s doing what he wants to do.

I light a candle for Paul, who body checked me by way of saying hello when he ‘ran into me’ at the mall the other day.  I burst out laughing after I got over my startlement… it was such a Paul thing to do.

I light a candle for all honest police officers, all dutiful firefighters, all troops serving the Queen.

I light a candle for independent journalists and documentarians.

I light a candle for all retail workers in this, the most wretched time of year.

I light a candle for the animal companions, past and present.  May their spirits encourage us to live in the now.

I light a candle for the weather.  It has been rainy, but it hasn’t been cold, and as one of my Seattle based fb friends says, you don’t have to shovel it.

I light a candle for my landpeers.  Bert and Kim are made of awesome; I am so happy they look after us.

I light a candle for the successful canvass at church, it’s a big load off my mind.

I light a candle for those who have entered the grove; Unca David, John, Derry, Grandad, Granny, Grandma, Kaitlin, Miriam, George, Carmen, Phillip, Grampa, Bounce and Gizmo.

I light a candle for the displaced, the enslaved, the unwanted and the wounded.

I light a candle for the hope kindled in all of us, sometimes, when it seems there’s no hope to spare.

Canvass is done – thankfully

Sue and I can now quit worrying about that and start worrying about other things.  The church community pulled through and all beings may experience happiness.  I still have to survive the budget meeting, but that will be okay.

Yesterday I realized I have been going about this time off thing all wrong.  I wrote out Beacon Birthday (substantially complete, no lyrics).  I went to the spa and got a lemongrass scrub and hot stone massage, which I needed like you would NOT believe.  I went to Sue’s to do church business.  I did a small shop, which Jeff is going to get the benefit of today as I have a nice brekky planned for him.  I did not go singing, but I did record SIX SEPARATE SONGS by singing into my phone.  I’ve had songs in my head for days, and I composed and recorded, on the spot, six songs.  I don’t even know if they were the songs that have been kicking around my head.  But I certainly seem to have no shortage.

Being off work has made it possible.

Margot came and snuggled with me again.  She likes my bed better now that I’ve gone back to using the duvet cover.

And I quit worrying.  Life is short, and the part of life where I’m mobile and get to enjoy myself is vanishing before my eyes.

I also figured out what I am giving for Christmas.  It is good. I think my friends will like it.

Lois!!!!!

We had a superlative meal at Chong Lum Hin last night – blowout amounts of food for seven people and six  beers came to $115.

And of course Lois was there so we had a lovely schmooze.  Kyle, Keith, Kate and Carly joined me Paul and Lois.  Jeff was asleep.  I think he would have enjoyed it.  There was an extremely funny piece of byplay.  The more I hang out with Kyle the better I like him.  He simply doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, and that, my friends, makes a lovely change.

Church was awesome, although (speaking as a semi-pro) Donatella should have pitched her voice lower and slowed down.  She wasn’t being kind to the deaf people in the congregation.  And Lois came so I got to sit around and drink coffee with her afterwards.  Paul took Carol home, blessings on his shiny silver head.  Rob came up to me and scritched me behind my cat ears (I was wearing the anime hat Keith gave me.)

Today I’m off to Sue’s place for ‘the adventures of further churchy business’ and tonight I’m thinking about finding an open stage and singing.

The Beacon Birthday song (or some end of it…) is substantially complete and I am transcribing it.  There’s a bridgy part that I’m not too clear on as far as the melody.  Three other songs are nipping at me to be written down, but I’ve learned to wait until the tunes are fixed to do that.

Time to pop the last of the cookie dough into the oven so Jeff and I can SCHNACK!  MWAH!

And don’t think I’m not angry about what’s happening in the world.  I am.   But I am also loving what is, including this foul and windy weather.

Food glorious food

Jeff took me out for a simply stellar meal last night.  We were able to park really close to the restaurant and it’s a good thing, cause I waddled out of there.

Leonid showers are happening right now, but we can’t see them.

Margot came in and snuggled with me this morning… then I realized her food dish was empty.

 

Look at these sloths

Look at them!

So I am 54 years old today.  I’ve already been up for two hours; I made turkey swossage and eggs and toast and coffee and chocolate chip cookies for brekkie.

Today I will practice musical instruments, clean things and go out and eat in a restaurant.  Also watch some TV.

Tammy’s dad has been sent home from the hospital with terminal cancer.  I am very anxious for Tammy’s mother, who has had a horrible time (there have been other family meshugas which I dasn’t speak of), and anxious obviously for Tammy, because her life was already up around the load line before her dad got sick.

Spent the day with Katie yesterday.  She took home $400 of supplies from Costco yesterday.  Now she owes me money, which I don’t imagine I’ll ever see, but given that I’ve gone over to her place half a dozen times now and there hasn’t been anything but mustard, pickles and mayo in the fridge, making sure they had a decent supply of sugar and rice and burritos seemed like a good thing.  Boyfriend is working and Katie is still enjoying living with him, partly because there aren’t any banned subjects of conversation.  I like him because Katie is either the world’s bestest faker or she’s genuinely happy… except for work.  Working with older people means they die, a lot, and Katie’s getting burnt out on that.

Speaking of old, did I mention my decrepitude?  Fifty-four.  I can hear my parents making sepulchral groans about how that’s nothing.

Talked to Carrie on the phone the other day.  There have been so many earthquakes in Masset that she’s freaking out and wanting to get the hell off the island.  Haida Gwaii is great until you realize you live 35 feet above sea level in a tsunami zone.  She was also VERY VERY unimpressed at how white people in trucks drove past little old Haida ladies on scooters when the Tsunami warning went off.  Yuppers, if you want to see the best and worst of people, hang out in a war/disaster zone.

Everybody have a lovely day!!!

Brendan Nagle sez

And I quote (from fb this am).

Five-hundred more layoffs at Quebecorpse. At what point will a commentator inside the accredited news-media tent call themselves out for the empty shell in which they now toil? Thousands of news-gatherers/fact-verifiers have been flushed from accredited news-media outlets (print and broadcast) across the “free” world, yet those few left inside try to uphold the notion of business as usual. It’s not. It’s brutal. The stuff is either stale or woefully void of information relevant to the man/woman on the street. The people at the helm are scared sh*tless and do all they can to homogenize their stuff so as not to p*ss off what few ad buyers are left. When those main ad buyers are various levels of government and their private-enterprise partners — you get the idea. And now spin tanks like the Fraser Institute are spamming overwrought editors with free sh*t that isn’t journalism as much as it is spin, but is residing in the page placements where journalism belongs. That and social media, with its unverified “facts” and photoshopped pictures to buttress whatever cause, are now considered news. Un. Fkn. Believable. Stay low and keep moving.
(he works in the media biz).

oy – the crazy, it burns

Re a livejournal ‘friend’.

 

WTF?  Okay, so you’ve banned me from commenting, but why?  Either it’s because one of your friends breaks out in pustules at the very mention of my name, or because I said something to offend you personally… and of course I’m being given no opportunity to improve my behaviour.  I can’t help your friend, if that’s what the trigger was; she was craycray outta the gate.  Okay, crazy in this case is a slur…. how about absurdly sensitive, entitled, and broke my brain the day she told me that she’d ‘talked to her psychiatrist and HE diagnosed you as BPD’. Without ever seeing me.  Ya know I’m not driving to Seattle to see a psychiatrist that diagnoses people he hasn’t seen and discusses the results with other patients! woo hoo.

 

I’ve been all kinds of crazy, but I don’t meet the diagnostic criteria for BPD. Seasonal affective disorder, sure; OCD, very likely; ADD, probably; full on depression with suicidal ideation, been there, dun that, got NO urge to get back on that train and likely won’t; migraines (which affect mood), check; rather more narcissism that makes me comfy when I get back into a mode where I can examine it, sure, but hey, I’ve written 250 melodies and you haven’t –  so I get to be ‘all that’ in those things I’ve accomplished.  But all of this is manageable, especially with the form of cognitive behavioural therapy I prefer, the friends I have, the brother I live with and my worldview, which is, depending on the day,

It isn’t about me, unless it’s happening INSIDE ME.

The universe is neutral, people are not.

This too shall pass.

My mother loves me, and she would if I was an axe murderer.  Fortunately she didn’t raise me to be an axe murderer, so she doesn’t have to visit me in jail.

I am a worthwhile person, whose behaviour is sometimes thoughtless and shabby.

Life is a curved line.

You start helpless and peeing yourself and people take care of you.  You end helpless and peeing yourself and people take care of you. If you’re really lucky, you achieve bladder control somewhere in the middle and look after people who are helpless.

Virtually nothing that happens to you happens because you deserved it.  We’re all accidents, we all came to being on a razor edge of improbabilities. Honour the complexity, the scale and heft of your life – in spite of your accidental arrival.