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A Domestic "Situation"

Sometimes I wonder why I watch the news at all. Some stories get me so upset, I literally can't sleep. This was one of them. Thirteen year old Anthony Tucker was killed in the home he shared with his mother April Cooley, his siblings and his mother's boyfriend Todd Curry. Curry has been charged with the murder.

As if this tragedy weren't bad enough, the news story added insult to injury (well, not injury...MURDER). First they interviewed Anthony's neighbor from across the street, Donna True. Ms True sat in her chair and talked to the police, averting her eyes several times when discussing her neighbors. "I'd seen those kids out there, acting like they didn't dare go inside." She'd seen the mother chased down the street with a gun before - but only called the police after she heard gunshots fired. Could she have done nothing else? She said she knew the children were in an abusive situation. She did almost nothing. She didn't call in the gunshots that killed Anthony to the police, because she heard on the police scanner that gunshots "from up here" had been reported. Incredibly, she attempted to turn the pity on to herself, lamenting how sick and violently ill she's been since the incident. Aw, poor baby.

Domestic violence was reported in that household on more than one occasion, including the time Ms True actually decided to call the police after hearing gunshots. Curry took a restraining order out against Cooley but then dropped it. Currently, the police are calling this cold blooded murder of a thirteen year old child "a domestic situation." What the flim flam? A DOMESTIC SITUATION? Are they trying to cover their asses or what? This is not a domestic situation. They cannot temper the tragedy with these words. This was a murder of a child that could have been prevented.

April Cooley, the children's mother, should be arrested as an accessory to murder. This woman should not have kept her children under the same roof as this violent man. I had flashbacks of little baby Kassidy and her evil mother Amanda Bortner, just watching as her boyfriend slowly murdered her child through abuse. I just can't understand it. How can you stay with someone like that? How can you watch your own child be abused by a man, who isn't even the father of your child?

The final blow for me with this fucked up story was the principal of the school. He stated, "We'd like to see some of the kids on a one-to-one basis, you know, to try and keep the rumor mill down to a minimum." What? As if there could be a rumor WORSE THAN A KID'S MOTHER'S BOYFRIEND GUNNING HIM DOWN AND KILLING HIM. I don't know what he needs more - a reality check, a sensitivity class, or a kick in the ass. Probably all three.

People, don't let this kind of thing happen in your town. If you know your neighbors are violently abusive, rattle some cages until something's done about it. Don't just peek out from behind your curtains for your next opportunity to gossip about it later. If the police do nothing, call them again. And again. And again. Call the Department of Human Services. Call the school. Call anyone who will do something about it. Maybe you could save someone's life.

I hope little Anthony Tucker gets the peace his mother and the man that murdered him should never know.

Posted by Bullyland at 10:30 AM | Comments (1)

This Just In - God Hates Blogs

Well, just because I'm all depressed doesn't mean a website can't make me laugh. Thankfully, this one did. Taken from the October 8 entry on Cruel.com:

Sunday, October 08, 2006
God Hates Blogs

Bloggers are going to hell one entry at a time, according to Kevin D. Denee of the Restored Church of God's Ambassador Youth magazine:

Should teenagers and others in the Church express themselves to the world through blogs? Because of the obvious dangers; the clear biblical principles that apply; the fact that it gives one a voice; that it is almost always idle words; that teens often do not think before they do; that it is acting out of boredom; and it is filled with appearances of evil -- blogging is simply not to be done in the Church. It should be clear that it is unnecessary and in fact dangerous on many levels.

Let me emphasize that no one -- including adults -- should have a blog or personal website (unless it is for legitimate business purposes).

Photo sharing is acceptable to the Restored Lord in some circumstances:

Some questions naturally arise: "Can I have a photo gallery?" For example, maybe you visited an exotic country and want to share your photos with close friends. This can be done, but certain guidelines apply. Of course, there should never be any inappropriate pictures (again, be careful of the appearance of evil); it should be private and password protected, and only shown to family and closest friends.

**************************************
Again this is directly quoted from Cruel.com, the Cruel Site of the Day created in what I take to be retaliation against the sometimes annoying Cool Site of the Day. Check out the website in its entirety. If it can make a seasonally-depressed-grouch like me laugh, think what it will do for a chirpy bird like yourself.

Footnote: I found Cruel.com while perusing Candyboots.com, another website that caters to dry senses of humor.

Posted by Bullyland at 04:37 PM | Comments (1)

Tis the season.

I noticed it a few days ago. Lately I don’t want to eat; food is tasteless in my mouth and nothing in my kitchen appeals to me. I wake up several times a week at 3 AM with an upset stomach. I go to sleep only after chugging baking-soda-laced bottles of water to quell the heartburn and nausea. A feeling of weight, heaviness; a physical despair that is getting harder and harder to shake off is beginning to envelop me. At first it was just at night, and I attributed it to my brother’s recent death. Now, though, it starts on me first thing in the morning and stays with me throughout the day. I have a headache that’s taken up permanent residence at the very top of my skull, sometimes migrating east or west, front or back, but always there and only barely repressed with regular doses of aspirin. My back aches every morning when I wake.

With winter’s inevitable departure of geese, leaves, and sunlight, so goes my emotional well-being. And, like the inevitable arrival of snow, Christmas decorations, and icy windshields, comes my old arch-nemesis, depression.

The most curious thing about depression, I think – is the physical aspect. I’ve lived with it long enough to know when it’s coming on and my emotional downslides are nearly always hailed in advance by these physical ailments. (Some people develop physical symptoms after the onset of depression. I, of course, being so weird, develop the physical symptoms first.) Probably the most curious of all is the feeling of weight. Anyone who has ever been covered by a lead apron before an x-ray has an idea of this feeling. Imagine wearing a lead jumpsuit, complete with lead ski mask. The other symptoms – digestive troubles, headaches, arthritis-like issues – are all common enough in life. The feeling of weight, however, is unique to depression as far as I know, and the most tell-tale sign that I’m heading down that slope.

I so do not want to spend this Christmas weeping incessantly, wearing a phony smile, struggling to get out of bed every morning. I so do not want to go the route I’ve gone every single year of my life that I can remember. When I was a young girl, I was abnormally crabby at Christmastime. Nothing pleased me. I wanted to be happy – I really did – but there was always a blackness inside my heart that I was too young to understand or deal with. Now I know of course that I've probably had this illness for most of my life, and those early Christmas bad moods were predecessors of my adult-sized depression.

So it has been, so it goes, and so it will go, year after year. I will make an appointment with Shrinky. She will adjust my medication or perhaps suggest a new course, and we will work together to keep a grip on my sanity throughout the winter. I have given up all hope of ever having a symptom-free winter; I’ve resigned myself to this fate. What I strive for now is simply to make it to April in one piece and perhaps even with a few good days along the way.

Wish me luck.

Posted by Bullyland at 03:53 PM | Comments (1)

Let the Weekend Begin

Allow me to leave you for the weekend with a few things that made me smile. A smile is a precious commodity, and one you don't realize the value of until it's hard to find.

My first smile is complements of my dad who snapped this awesome pic of my nephews and my son. The three older ones did the cha-cha-cha line around the house several times before the little guy grabbed on to the end. I call this photo "Three-and-a-half Cabaleros:"

A dear friend from high school recently contacted me - we've been out of touch for years. It was really great to hear from Anne, and at that low point in my life, it couldn't have been nicer to "run into" an old friend. She's a linguist in the Air Force, currently in Hawaii with her husband and four kids. Anyway, she recently sent me this link which made me laugh out loud. Three cheers to TSgt Tucker for kicking my sadness to the curb!

Got Puppy?

Got Baby?

(thanks Cute Overload and Dad.)

Signs you may have seen before, worth another peek. (P.S., the rest of sillyprat.com is worth checking out as well!)

Now, this is just plain silly.

And more silly stuff.

Have a great weekend. I hope I made you smile at least once!

Posted by Bullyland at 10:10 AM | Comments (0)

Thirty one days.

I can hardly believe it's been a month since my brother died. I wasn't thinking about it in terms of time, but my dad sent me an email this morning.

From my dad (you can see where I get my penchant for collecting lyrics):

Subject: Awakening thoughts on the 1st month's anniversary of Mike's death

I woke up this morning with an old sacred song rumbling through my head:

Farther along, we’ll know all about it
Farther along, we’ll understand why
Cheer up my brother
Live in the sunlight (‘Son'light)
We’ll know all about it
Farther along.

Then, just the words from one off Vince Gill’s song he wrote for his brother when he died. Titled: “Go Rest High Upon That Mountain”.

I know your life on earth was troubled
and only you could know the pain.
You weren't afraid to face the devil,
you were no stranger to the rain.

Go rest high on that mountain
son, your work on earth is done.
Go to heaven a-shoutin'
love for the Father and the Son.

Oh, how we cried the day you left us
we gathered round your grave to grieve.
wish I could see the angels faces
when they hear your sweet voice sing.

When I opened his email it really hit me how little time has passed. I thought I had been doing a spectacular job holding up and healing - my bro would be proud.

The other day while we were out to eat, my mom let me listen to a voicemail message my brother left from May, that mysteriously showed up on my father's cell phone after he died. I heard about 5 words and couldn't finish it - I started bawling. (I had to reassure the slightly shaken waitress that it wasn't because the seafood Newburg hadn't worked out.) I had no idea that much pain was still inside me. I'm all about remembering the happy times and believing he is in a better place and not being miserable about his death as I know he doesn't want us to be. But, it totally struck me like a ton of broken glass to hear his voice - healthy, happy, alive. The sadness came back like it never had left. This obviously isn't one that can be boxed up for the cold case files. It's going to remain open as long as I live.

My brother was thirty-one years old when he died. It's been thirty-one days since he died.

I know now that it's going to take longer than that to heal. Like, forever.

My Dear Old Friend

how will we smile ever again
i'm asking you sincerely, my dear old friend
what do you say, is there a way
my dear old friend

how will we laugh just like before
when there's water rising up to our door
and we may never see each other again
my dear old friend

will there be someone to remember
a little place that we loved
how the music played all night and day
through the windows up above

how the birds sang in the morning
how the dog barked in the yard
i guess that's nothing much
but everything to us
and that's what seems so hard

how will we smile ever again
i'm asking you sincerely, my dear old friend
the moon on the hill says we probably will
my dear old friend
my dear old friend

-patty griffin

Posted by Bullyland at 10:57 AM | Comments (0)

Secret Lovers

We have a foster kitten who is completely without fear of my dog (or anything else); I've caught her nibbling on the tip of the dog's marrow bone - while my dog was eating it! Anyway, our dog has always displayed a certain disdain for the cats, as well as being clearly put out that they are able to climb onto my lap and other high places where she cannot. I busted my dog succumbing to the kitten's charms. Check out the procession of pics:

Kitten: "Snorgle, snorgle" Dog: "What are you doing?" Kitten: "it's okay, no one's watching us..."

Sleeping together...Both: "Honk-shu! Honk-shu!" (and other assorted snorts & gurgles of fuzzy content)

Busted! Dog: "Hnh? Wha? Omigod!" Kitten: "So?"

Dog: "I am SO outta here!" *So embarrassed at being busted snorgling with an annoying-but-irresistable kit-teh, she gets her face out of camera as soon as possible to avoid identification*

Kit-teh's name is Teeny Taily-o and she's dangerously close to becoming another permanent contributor to my dustbunny collection.

Posted by Bullyland at 04:26 PM | Comments (0)

What a tool!

As a fat-cat government employee I have the distinguished benefit of getting tomorrow off. Well, I do work with and support future veterans - active duty military members. So I don't feel the least bit guilty that you're paying for my three day weekend. Snort!

Anyway, I just thought I'd leave you for my 'oliday with this "Strange But True" article from the Seacoastconnects.com site. I had to laugh out loud that my blog was linked with an article that uses "tool" and "rectum" in its very first sentence. I know I'm "strange, but true..." but ...

Naked man arrested for concealed weapon
By Associated Press Writer
Posted: November 6, 2006

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EL CERRITO, Calif. - A man was arrested on suspicion of carrying a concealed weapon after police found him outdoors — naked — and he told them he had a tool in his rectum, authorities said.
The man was lying on a tree stump, masturbating beside a nature path, near a Bay Area Rapid Transit station Thursday, police said.

John Sheehan, 33, of Pittsburg, was initially arrested on suspicion of indecent exposure. But when asked whether he was carrying anything police should know about, Sheehan mentioned the tool, said El Cerrito Detective Cpl. Don Horgan.

"You can't get much more concealed than that," Horgan said.

Officers drew their weapons and firefighters were called to the scene. Sheehan removed a 6-inch metal awl wrapped in black electrical tape without incident.

Sheehan, who was paroled from state prison last week, was then booked into jail on suspicion of parole violations, indecent exposure and one felony count of possessing a concealed weapon.

"When you're talking about an awl or an ice pick and you're dealing with somebody who's fresh out of prison, it's a weapon. That's a stabbing instrument," Horgan said.

It was not immediately clear what Sheehan was on parole for. A person answering the phone at the jail Friday night did not know whether Sheehan had a lawyer.

**************************************************************

Aw, c'mon, give him a break! Clearly the guy had no pockets. No, you just "can't get much more concealed than that."

Well, on that "bottom" note, I hope you have a great weekend.

Posted by Bullyland at 04:23 PM | Comments (2)

China: One Child, One Dog, No Soul

Officials in Beijing, China have enacted a "one dog only" policy to its citizens. This is supposedly to stem the nation's growing rabies problem.

If you read the article you may, like I was, be filled with a sense of unreality. This can't be real. Are these people for real? Do they really think that limiting households to owning one dog is going to stop the rabies virus? Do they not realize that instead of banning additional dogs, they might want to mandate a rabies vaccine.

Only one dog is allowed per household. Dog owners are not allowed to take their pets out in public. Large dogs have also been banned.

PeTA stepped up to the plate to make themselves look incredibly stupid, predictably. PeTA's president, Ingrid Newkirk, states: "China may be barking up the right tree. It's sad that it comes to this, but for the dog's sake, restricting people to one dog stops impulse acquisition, encourages better care and will reduce the numbers who are suffering in the streets."

This wouldn't be such a stupid statement, in fact it kind of makes sense. If she hadn't followed it by urging "a grandfather clause so that people who have more than one dearly loved dog don't now have to kill them."

Does this woman (and I use that term loosely) really think that Chinese officials who so far have massacred over fifty thousand pets, some brutally beaten in front of their owners, are going to allow a grandfather clause?

Anyway, I'm not annoyed that the Chinese government has enacted the one-small-dog-only law. It's their country, whatever. I am only bewildered that they would be so stupid as to think that is going to end the rabies epidemic.

Well, I guess I am a little annoyed. But not surprised.

Posted by Bullyland at 02:00 PM | Comments (0)

Elliot and Barry, It Was Worth It.

I am usually very annoyed by furniture ads. Be it Bernie and Phyl, or Bob, or Elliot and Barry. They all make used car salesmen look attractive. These people are so weird, I mean, do you think they were the type of kids that were always jockeying for attention somehow but just didn't have any real talents? You know the type. They want to be a rock star or something, but can't sing or act or maybe they don't have the edge for politics. So they go into the furniture business which allows them to ham it up as much as they want in ads they produce themselves.

I think Elliot and Barry (of Jordan's Furniture) are the worst offenders. Then again, they are the best at what they do. They truly are hams, and love being in the spotlight, and are as annoying as hell. However, they have managed to put together a kid friendly, extremely entertaining way to get you into their stores besides their smarmy ads. They have IMAX.

In addition, they've constructed a virtual funhouse too. My folks and I took my nephews and my son to see the latest computer-animated kids' flick at the Jordan's store in Reading a couple of weekends ago. I had no idea what to expect. We walked in and found the entire front entrance made from Jelly Belly jellybeans. The floors are made of jellybeans, the walls, statues, buildings, you name it. There is a Jelly Belly store. There is a trapeze school - $10 will get you a quickie lesson and a swing on the trapeze. There is a giant, roboticized Wally the Green Monster that holds a hapless Yankees mannequin in his huge hand. There are liquid fireworks every 1/2 hour. There is a Fuddruckers and an ice cream joint. And of course, the IMAX theater.

Three-dimensional movies today are not the sketchy 3-D flicks of my childhood. Gone are the red and blue lensed paper shades that never sat well on the nose bridge. Gone are the red and blue shadows on the actual movie screen. I have no idea how they do it, but if you watch the movie without the most excellent gray-lensed, plastic glasses they give you, you can't even tell it's a 3-D movie. And when you do watch the movie with the glasses, it's awesome! It really does jump out at you. I'd love to see an action flick in IMAX if the kiddie show entertained me so much.

My brother was supposed to have gone on this outing with us. His presence was both felt and missed, tremendously. I know he would have loved the free jelly bean samples. He would have stood close enough to the liquid fireworks to get wet, just like all three boys. He would have gone up & down the escalator with the boys as if it were a carnival ride. He would have loved to take the trapeze lesson. He would have loved it all.

I applaud ol' Elliot and Barry (so hammish that they had to insert themselves into a comedy short before the movie) and forgive them their cheesy TV ads. They've really outdone themselves (and Bernie and Phyl, and Bob) with this set up. We really had a great time and we never even had to buy a piece of furniture.

Mike, I know you were there with us, but I still wish you could have swung on that trapeze.

Posted by Bullyland at 10:52 AM | Comments (5)

Have You Seen This Dog?

Anyone who regularly walks, jogs, bikes or hell, even drives through Portsmouth has seen the flyer for the missing shaggy black dog. I noticed them earlier this week, in the Proprietor's cemetery, where I have indeed seen this dog - but that was before she went missing. I am so touched at the perseverance of her owners, who have plastered this plea for their lost dog over nearly every telephone pole within a 10 mile radius of the cemetery. I really hope these people find their dog. I snatched a flyer from a telephone pole that had not one but two posters stapled to it, so that I could post it here in hopes of helping somehow (see poster below). (I'll put it back.)

As the former owner of a Cairn terrier - a dog born to run - I know the feeling of helpless terror as I watched my little dog slip her lead and dash out into traffic. Once she escaped her halter in the Pet Quarters parking lot - at 8 o'clock at night, in the snow. I thought she was gone for sure. Luckily a resourceful woman saw this happen and opened her car door, and my shaggy little escapee hopped right in.

So, have you seen this dog? If she's been stolen, I can only say to the thief: Have you no dignity? Redeem yourself now and return Shandi to her people. That has to be the worst possible karma around!

I truly hope she is united with her family soon.

Posted by Bullyland at 01:48 PM | Comments (1)

Am I the only one who gets into these situations?

Last night my younger son and I met my parents, my sister-in-law, my nephew, and my brother's best friend to get a bite to eat before we headed over to the church for a service for the departed, in which my brother was included. All was going pretty well, when my nephew (not yet 2) started choking on a pizza crust. His mom was in the restroom. My mom jumped up and so did I, and fortunately he stopped choking right away. We watched as he rolled the pizza crust around in his mouth, and my mom said, "Do you still have that in your mouth?" to which he nodded yes. Then, my mom put her hand near his chin and said, "Come on and spit that out, it's yucky now." My precious nephew proceeded to open his mouth and deposit a great, seemingly endless stream of vomit into her hand (and arm, and lap, and table). Super!

Well, we got him cleaned up as much as we could with my mom sopping and me keeping the train of paper towels streaming from dispenser to child to garbage. Unfortunately my sister-in-law had to skip the service since she had no extra clothes for my nephew, and he was clearly ruined for church.

However, the rest of our party attended the service, which was beautiful and touching. After the service, I took my son home and we ended the evening without incident.

At about 3 AM, I awoke with a very queasy stomach and a metallic taste in my mouth. I tossed and turned, and eventually couldn't resist the forces within. I threw up a couple of times, and lay awake for the rest of the night twitching uncomfortably. My skin was clammy, my insides quivery.

I am pegged to sing the National Anthem at 3 o'clock this afternoon, for a former boss of mine. This guy is the best boss I ever had in my entire life. I love this guy. He's retiring and asked me to sing for his ceremony and I was really happy to oblige. Now this!!

I'm on my lunch hour now, and I'm sitting here writing this in hopes I can keep myself distracted and push away the queasiness inside. I practiced the song in my car on the way in to work and did alright, so that helps allay my fears that I'm going to spew like Vesuvius in the middle of my performance.

Anyway, I'm not sure if I caught something from my nephew, or if I just have a 24 hour thing, or if it was something I ate, but I've got my fingers crossed that I don't spoil my favorite boss of all time's special moment. That just wouldn't do.

Ewuggabuggashivva!

Posted by Bullyland at 11:30 AM | Comments (1)

Free Living

I've gone into a "minimalist" mode and have been trying to get my home up to par with my desire to end all clutter. Freecycle has been a Godsend to me. I thought I'd post about Freecycle because so many people don't really know what it's about.

I used to sell a ton of stuff on ebay (okay, I bought a ton of stuff, too). It was fun for a while but eventually became tedious and a major butt pain. Keeping up with which address went with which item, paying my ebay fees, etc. It was draining. If I could have done it full time and made as much as my job, that would have been great. However, trying to keep up with it was impossible while maintaining a full time job and a household.

Anyway, someone tipped me off to Freecyle, which is in my opinion, easier than ebay. Sure, you don't make any money - but here's a "for example:" I got rid of my humongous, overbearing entertainment center when I was first getting into my minimalist decorating phase. I'd had it a couple of years, it was in great shape, but it took up a third of my wall space and weighed a ton. I put it on the Freecycle site and it was gone the next day. I never had to move it an inch and the woman who took it was ecstatic - it was exactly what she wanted and needed. Two very happy parties. This is the why Freecycle is so awesome.

Here's how it works. You have to join one or more Freecycle groups, through Yahoo. Go to the Freecycle website. and find your local areas. Once you've been accepted as a member you can start posting. There are four types of posts, "Offer," "Wanted," "Taken," and "Received." You include your item and your town in the subject line, so that only interested parties need open the email.

Your subject line could read: OFFER, Portsmouth, entertainment center. You don't even need to include much in the actual email, unless there are details you need to relay. If you see an "offer" that you want, you just reply to the email. Some items are popular and the giver may receive a ton of requests for it, so don't feel put out if they never get back to you. Hopefully, they'll post a "Taken" email once the item's been picked up.

I've given away so many things, usually with minimal effort on my part. Sometimes I'll offer to bring the item to them if they're housebound or something, but usually it's a pick up right at my doorstep or office. Here's a list of some of the things that found happy homes:

Entertainment center, several fish tanks (as I kept trading up in size), full sized mattress and box spring, twin sized mattress, box spring and bedframe, ugly work table, child's ride-on toys, child's clothes and coats, an easy-set pool, a turntable, a frozen turkey, four dining room chairs, hermit crabs, five dog crates, two giant cat towers, two reclining chairs, and even more.

I've also gotten some really sweet things - some things were much needed and some were just really nice to get. Here's my "received" list:

40 gallon fish tank complete setup, skateboard, antique bed frame, full and twin sized mattress and box springs (since freecycled away), child sized futon mattress (dog uses for bed), toys, candles, duvet covers, and more.

It's funny how some people interprete some emails. When I had given away the hermit crabs, I sent out an email: "TAKEN - Hermit crabs - Portsmouth." The content of the email read: Taken, please pick up (or PPU as freecyclers put it). I soon got an email from a woman responding to the "Taken" subject email that read (I've cut and pasted the exact content):

"WHERE ARE YOU LOCATED AND COULD I PICK THEM UP TOMORROW I AM GRADUATING FROM COLLEGE TIS EVENING"

Bemused, I responded:

"This freecycle message says "Taken" which means, unfortunately, that they are taken."

I must have insulted the sender because she sent back:

"WELL YOU SAID PPU SO I THOUGHT YOU MEANT FOR ME TO PPU GET YOUR MESSAGES CLEAR"

I laughed out loud. This person is graduating from college! "Tis" evening!

Then there was the time I offered the full sized mattress & box spring. My email said:

"Full sized mattress & box spring, good condition. Would be great for guest room, or with a nice mattress cover, for yourself."

I received a rather abrupt email from a lady:

"Is this mattress in good condition? Because I just went to pick up a mattress from another freecycler and it was ready for the GARBAGE!"

I guess she was afraid I may be trying to pull a fast one by advertising it as in "good condition." Or maybe she didn't read the content. Who knows? Hers was one of the emails I just didn't respond to. I mean, I'm all about giving and helping, but a little politeness can go a long way in your favor - and rudeness will keep you out of the running.

One woman chewed me out for giving away a goldfish on Freecycle - who knows what kind of torture I may be sending my goldfish out to? She was willing to make up for my mistake and take the goldfish if I told the person I'd promised the goldfish to that the deal was off. I guess she's like, the Goldfish Angel or something.

Anyway, it's a really awesome set up. I always feel good when I a) get rid of clutter or unwanted items, and b) make somebody's day. Of course, getting stuff you want is pretty cool, too.

Posted by Bullyland at 10:14 AM | Comments (4)

Perpetual Puppy

I just can't help myself when it comes to my dog. She is so cute. She's a year and four months old and everyone still thinks she's a baby. This is because she still looks like a puppy. She completely stopped growing when she was about 8 months old. She is a prosh poochie, a perpetual puppy. I'm besotted with this little brown dog, I'll admit.

She spent more time with me during my brother's illness than any human did, always in the car with me - back and forth from Mom & Dad's to my house, sleeping in the guest room with me, accompanying me and my brother to Dunkin's, accompanying me everywhere, never complaining, always listening.

What a good dog.

Posted by Bullyland at 02:10 PM | Comments (1)

Short Attention Span Theater

Wow, I've been looking at the Blogthecoast live feed which updates new posts to blogs. There are too few new entries from the local color. All the recent blogs are non-blogthecoast entries. What gives?

I wonder why the rest haven't had many entries lately? Are you all plagued with my affliction of a severe short attention span? Have you all lost your interest in writing? Have you found a paying job? (If so, please contact me to provide any leads!!)

Speaking of short attention spans, it's been nearly impossible for me to focus lately. I find the seacoastconnects forums to be highly addicting and distracting. Over there, I'm able to follow many different trains of thought and change tracks in seconds; plus I get instant feedback. On the other hand, the forums don't provide me a real outlet to expend my creative energy. It's kind of like the difference between parking a few hundred yards from the store vs. jogging 3 miles. One just stretches your legs, the other burns your muscles.

I've been unable to concentrate on anything for more than five minutes. My remote control is sure getting a workout. Last night I was "following" about 3 different shows. I'm knee deep in unfinished projects at home. I'm constantly asking "Sorry, what was that again?" to people who are talking to me. I've spent the past few days trying to stoke the fire above to come up with a decent blog entry, to no avail. I'm thinking I'll work on several short posts until I get my game back on. If my attention span refuses to cooperate, I'll just have to work around it.

Speaking of work, I've been tinkering with the idea of writing...well...something. I can't settle on a subject though, or a media form. Songwriting? Should I begin a book? A paying writing job?

Speaking of pay, I have to say that am totally looking forward to the new year (I know, it's not even Thanksgiving yet). I've had such a white-knuckle year financially, and with the new one comes a little more breathing room in my bank account. I've been holding my breath for about 8 months, so you'll forgive me if I seem to rush it?

Well... I guess I should end this entry. It so far has made less than sense and is just a waste of my time and yours. I'll be back later with something more substantial and relevant.

Uh, what was I talking about again?

Posted by Bullyland at 10:09 AM | Comments (0)