zianuray: (Default)
a friend of mine was trying to talk me into using a matchmaking company in Springfield that she was using.  They had the paperwork, the not-very-scientific personality/psych profile tests, the videos that people would make telling about themselves and what they wanted in a mate / relationship.

Every male in that book in my age range -- and remember, this was 15-20 years ago --  was at least 40 pounds of flab overweight, balding, some obviously hadn't shaved before going in for the taping, they were nearly all either blue-collar with very little formal education beyond what the state mandated OR they claimed to be a pastor or other white-collar prfessional BUT wouldn't show proof.  Nearly every male on the service claimed to be a "born-again Christian"; those with a drinker's nose or tobacco-stained teeth were especially vocal about it.  And every one of these slobs wanted a woman 5'5" to 5'6", 110 pounds or less, who neither smoked nor drank (guess they didn't want competition for the resources?), a good submissive person with no children who would nevertheless be happy to raise his 5 children so he could get them away from his harpy ex-wife, work to support the whole family, and have a couple more kids for him -- several even used the "Proverbs 31 woman" line/descriptor.

Gods, talk about stereotypical rednecks.  

I did let my friend introduce me to one of the guys she met on the service -- he liked racing and I like fast cars, she she figured we'd get along.

I stayed at the table on that meeting for 15 minutes.  14.75 minutes longer than I needed to know it wouldn't work.  

Direct quote from me the next day at work:  "Hon, next time you want to do me a favor?  Don't do me any favors."
zianuray: (Default)

More than 25 years ago, I was leaving Ft. Leonard Wood at the end of the work day, going out the main gate.  If you've been there, you know there's a wide grass median between the directions, and trees to the east of the street.  Of course, that's waaaaay too close to traffic and to quarters for hunters to be permitted to shoot anything, deer or otherwise, whether with a rifle, bow, or Daisy pellet gun!

That day it was getting just to the edge of dark, when the hunters are supposed to pack up and give up for the day.  One gentleman was sitting in his truck on the shoulder of the road, rifles in a gunrack in the back window, practically foaming at the mouth. 

He was watching a beautiful big buck with quite a  nice rack grazing in the median.

For Crystal

May. 6th, 2009 01:34 pm
zianuray: (Default)
Explaining "to pull a Frank"

Back in St Louis, next door neighbor had just got a brand new Stingray (late 70's, possibly 78) from the factory -- got a good deal, as he used his dad's employee discount! --  and just HAD to change the oil.  Prob didn't have 3k miles on it yet, but hey, new sports car, gotta do SOMETHING with it, right?

So Frank pulls it into the drive, gets the drip pan, the new oil cans and spout, new filter, toolbox, he's making quite a production of this.  Drains the "old" oil, swaps the filter, drags out the drip pan and pours it into a jug for recycling (which is just getting started, so it's good that he didn't dump it in the gutter), starts pouring in the new oil.

I ask "Did you maybe forget something, Frank?" and he didn't forget anything, what do I know about it anyhow?, gets done. Closes everything up, gets ready to get in and start the car...and I wave him down and ask,

"Frank, did you put the plug back in the oil pan?"  Yes, he did, don't bother him.  "Maybe you better check again."  Point to the stream of brand-new clean 30wt running down the drive and into the street....the plug was in the old oil, of course, in the jug. 

He hated me after that, especially with him being in his late 20's and me being 16 and a girl!  His dad said he felt embarrassed and his mom said he should be thankful I kept him from burning up the engine.  He'd probably have preferred to burn it up.  I never told anyone except Gramma and Grandpa, so any embarrassment he got was from HIM telling tales!

Never assume you did it right just because you're a guy :D
zianuray: (Default)
Thanks to [personal profile] filkertom for pointing this out,

and here's something that happened to me about 3 decades ago:

The youth group at my church (yes, including me) was having a clean-up-the-street-and-lawn project day, and had set aside a place to collect any recyclables we had picked up in our enthusiasm (word chosen VERY carefully).  Suddenly, here comes one of the Deacons, an older man and fairly stern.

"What are you doing with this recycle nonsense?  You're not trusting JAYzus!  You're delaying the RAPTchoor!  Don't you want to go to HAYvun and be with JAYzus?  JAYzus will save us from the destruction of the WURRLD!"

Odd, I'd thought we were to be stewards of the Earth and care for her, not waste her gifts and poison her in an effort to kill her off to hasten the rapture.  Also that god-the-father had already set the time.  Ah, what did I know?  I was a teenager (which i grew out of) and a female (which I didn't), therefore the lowest-of-the-low in that hierarchy.  (Well, I COULD have gone lower as a crack whore or a member of another denomination, but within that bunch I was dirt, so there.)

...and people wonder why I'm a Witch.
zianuray: (Counterclock)
but it's still humiliating (and funny)!

I'd gotten a replacement for my cell, which had worn out after 3 years of use. 

The new ones all had cameras, so that's what I wound up with.  Of course, since it's there, I have to play with it.

The first few shots went to my email effortlessly.  After a week and a dozen shots, though, they weren't showing up anymore!  What could be wrong? 

I called support.  The tech there sent me a pic, it came through fine. 

I went to the local company store and got in line.  20 minutes later I'm explaning to the rep there, she sends me a pic from her phone.  That works. 

I have her use my phone to send a pic to my email.  It doesn't show. 

She gets the manager.  He can't figure it out either.  We've got my email acct on their computer, sending pictures, trying between the three of us to discover the problem. 

Suddenly, a dim light flickers in the back of my skull.  "Excuse me." 

I reach across and click on the SPAM folder..sure enough...so I apologised and left. 

(So why couldn't these so-called professionals figure it out either?????)

Just too obvious, I guess!
zianuray: (Default)
Stopped at the Bookshop other day....saw this little basket w/ red plastic eggs in it--"They're free!"  SO of course I have to have a Silly Putty.

Later, watching how it drapes to the shape of darn near anything, I realized.....my only MEMORY of playing with SP as a kid involves getting in trouble for NOT tearing my new pants.  I'm sure I DID play with it, transfer comics, watch it bounce, etc....

I had a bit of it in the kitchen on College Street--so I know I was in K or 1st grade--was supposed to keep it in the kitchen, not take it in my room.  I put it down on a chair while I got a glass of water--of course all the glasses were up high so I had to pull a chair over, climb up, all that.  Got my drink, put the glass in the sink upside down, climbed down--and couldn't find my Silly Putty!  While I'm looking for it, Mom walks in: 

"Oh no, you've torn your new pants."  (LIKE she had anything to DO with getting them!  Her PARENTS got 99% of my clothes at this time, though she made good money as an RN.)  I look down to see what she's talking about, being fairly sure I have NOT torn ANYthing, and guess what?  There's my Silly Putty, stuck to the right knee of my britches!  Relieved that a) I've FOUND it!  and b) I've NOT torn anything, I peel it off with joy overflowing and blurt, "I was LOOKING for that!"

So I got walloped for NOT tearing my new pants.  Still trying to figure that out.

And that is my sole childhood memory of a very popular toy.

Just how fu**ed is that?

(AND just how messed up is it that I feel the need to share that HERE, instead of telling my Husband or F2F friends?)
zianuray: (Default)
I'm not really sure what I think about "channeling" messages and angel guides and such.

Before yesterday I'd have said it was good guessing and cold readings and research.

"Dawn" was doing "open channeling sessions" at the Spiritual Evolution Fair I was vending at this weekend.

We met for the first time Saturday, and hadn't had time to talk about anything much--except that she and her husband gave me some shed-fur from their white wolves for a protection amulet I have been wanting to make!--so she had no knowledge of my background.

I went in to watch and listen, no expectations.

One of the messages was from "John"--an older man, feels like someone's father.......I waited until she came back to the name after covering something else [I was  giving everyone else a chance to go "Well, might be my third husband's ex-wife's second cousin once removed......." (which, as you may have noticed, is the sort of thing some people come up with)] before saying "Might be for me, that's my stepfather's name."

D:  Is he gone?

I heard he died a few years ago.

D:  Would he have thought of himself as your father?

Probably, as he adopted me.

D:  He says he is very sorry for what happened, does that make any sense?

(flabbergasted; jaw dropping)

D: He came to me Thursday while I was preparing for this.  He is really...he wants this to get this message to you.  Abuse, physical or emotional, I'm seeing......There is another daughter. 

Yes, his biological daughter.

D:  He wants her, also,  to know he's sorry.  There was a split in the family and he was the cause of it.  A third sibling......


D:  A brother.  He (John) askes that you pass the message along to both of them that he is so very sorry.  Will you do this?  I'm feeling that he did something different to the brother, does that make sense?

If I can find them.  (I can't figure what he'd have done to my brother, as he spent most of his life with Aunt B and Uncle A who adopted him when we were taken away from John and Virginia.)  (V. being bio-mother to all 3 of us.)

D:  He is giving me the feeling that he is saying "I was a very bad man."  He says he is sorry, he is watching over you and he is with you.


That's where I left the room, 'cause if it WAS John, I don't want him watching me and being with me.  Maybe he has changed, maybe he realizes what he did, but I don't see any sense in taking chances with it.

Actually, that was the last one i expected to hear from. 

If anything, I was figuring Gramma would be reading me the riot act for "Turning your back on Jay-sus after all He did for you!"

I don't have a problem with Jesus, I have a problem with some of His people.

Comments on the probabilities of the "channeled message"? 

zianuray: (Default)

this is behind a cut so i can point out that self-pity-parties are never pretty. 

Why i don't like cigarettes, by Zia )

i think it started when she remarried.  she'd always smoked, since before i was born, but not in Gramma's house.  then she met him, and he smoked too, and they got married, and i had to go with her since she was mom.

and he smoked.

and i got burned.

and when she asked, he'd say "oh, she was playing with the lit cigarettes and did it to herself."

(now, cigarette burns tend to hurt. just a bit.  and they itch even while they still hurt, so you can't really scratch because that'll hurt worse!)

keep in mind, she's a nurse.  an RN.

if YOUR kid is burning himself, the kid has a problem, right?

if your husband is burning your kid, the husband has a problem, right? 

but in her world, this was OK. anything else would have meant she wasn't "in control of the situation." 

at the time, of course, i didn't understand that part.  i knew i was being punished--sometimes for things i did 'cause i didn't know i wasn't supposed to do 'em.  sometimes for not doing things i hadn't known i was SUPPOSED to do.  sometimes for doing something today that was required yesterday but forbidden today--with no notice given of the change.  sometimes because "you know why, don't make me explain it." 

he crushed out a cigarette on the back of my hand right in front of the checkout clerk at the Alden's.  i didn't cry or yelp.  i made sure i didn't leak tears until he was looking away, then i swiped them on my hand real quick 'cause if the clerk had seen and asked....well.  once of THAT was enough.

he got me in the corner at the house and shoved one up my nose.  the burn from that didn't show, so that was OK.  i didn't have to field questions. 

see, i was a bad girl.  i deserved it.  i had to be punished. 

Gramma and Grampa would come and get me (and Sis, generally) every weekend i can remember.  When i was in second grade and Sis was 2, one time they bought up $40 worth of groceries.  keep in mind, this is 30 years ago.  that was a LOT of food.  they told us it was so us kids would have something to eat in the house. 

as soon as they left, he told me to keep the kid (Sis) quiet.  he loaded all the food they'd brought in the car and took off.  he came back less than an hour later with 2 cases of beer and 2 cartons of cigarettes. 

then he told me to fix the kid a bottle of sugar water to shut her up.  i was bad.  i couldn't keep Sis from crying.  i couldn't make her be not-hungry.  it was my fault.

he's dead now. has been for several years, i was told.  no, i had nothing to do with it.

she died about 3, maybe 4 years ago.  i went to the funeral to make sure she was really dead this time.  she's faked suicide attempts several times.  starting in nursing school. she told her twin brother,  and her shrink, and then her parents: "i figure how much i can take so if no-one finds me, i'll wake up in a day or two."

now ain't THAT a healthy mind?  and she made RN?????  and people wonder WHY i don't trust doctors, nurses, hospitals......???????????????????????

and cause of her death -- something about emphysema. Of course, that had NOTHING to do with the two-pack-a-day-for-over-20-years habit. Oh no....


zianuray: (Default)

December 2011

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