And again, why can't I write like this??

By Sam Jordison, from Scotsman.com:

The Great Fire of London did put the fear up a few doom-mongers back in 1666, but even that great conflagration failed to spark the end of the world.

Wow. Just Wow.

America's infamous right-wing commentator Ann Coulter is also publishing a book today. She's the woman who once appeared on the cover of Time magazine, under the headline "Ms Right", and who called for the forcible conversion of all Muslims to Christianity. Her most famous comment about the environment is: "God said, 'Earth is yours. Take it. Rape it. It's yours.'" She's also a canny selfpublicist: 06.06.06 is the ideal date to release a volume she's entitled Godless. Of course, her publishers insist that it's just a coincidence.

Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia?

I have been so wrapped up in my money issues that I missed out on the potential for the Apocalypse yesterday!!! Yesterday's date was the 6th of June, 2006, otherwise known as 6-6-06. Take out the 0 and you've got the day of the BEAST! The end of days! The Lord is coming back!!! The Anti Christ is here!! Run run!

Oh my word, y'all. Come on.

People honestly thought that the END WAS NEAR yesterday. Planes would drop out of the sky! ATM cards would stop working! Your computer will rise up and eat your head!!! RUN RUN RUN!

Sorry, got caught up in the hype there for a sec.

Apparently mothers-to-be did whatever they could to avoid having their babies born yesterday. People stayed home, cancelled flights, all of this because of a number. A NUMBER, that according to many scholars of the symbolism behind numbers, refers to Nero, the mad Caesar of Rome. This article puts it very well indeed:

Indeed, if you're still reading this article, you've already proved quite a few people wrong. Because, according to the conspiracy theorists, we should already have been visited by some quite nasty plagues by now. What's more, all copies of The Scotsman should have been consumed by fire, thanks to the giant comet that's due to strike the Earth. And, just supposing that the paper did survive all that, your attention would have been grabbed by the blinding sight of the Lamb of God transporting 144,000 Christian virgins up to heaven - leaving the rest of us to tidy up the mess.

Now, I agree that everyone has a right to their beliefs...I'll be the first one to let you prattle on to me about your political beliefs and convictions, ideas that I may think are so backwards that I'm amazed you can get out of bed in the morning without help...but they are yours and I don't have the right to tell you that you are wrong. However...this stuff strikes a chord with me, probably because of my upbringing in the church and because of my exposure to "church people..."

How many of you checked over your shoulder yesterday just to see if you might catch a glimpse of the fire and brimstone laden four horsemen, sent to devour us all that we may meet our Maker? How many clucked their tongues sadly at those of differing religious faiths or lifestyles, knowing that those poor souls were condemned to the flames that were no doubt on the move to consume the less-than-righteous among us? The "Left Behind" people published something yesterday to "counter" the re-release of "the Omen." Y'all, it's a movie!!! Say it with me, MOVIE. As in not real. As in fiction. As in you just made yourselves out to be hysteria-mongers with your counter-release.

Ugh. Hey...maybe that's the source of all my money issues...hmmm...I wonder if an attack of Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia (fear of the number 666, see the link in the title for a slightly credible web page) would be good enough reason for a medical leave of absence from work...?

"I've learned something today..."

I am the queen of useless worry. It's almost as though I think that through worrying over something I can change the outcome of the situation. Seriously. I think maybe it's because I watched so much sit com television growing up...everything works out by the end of the half hour, so maybe subconsciously I think that if I worry for 29 minutes that everything will work out in minute 30 and I can relax.

Case in Point: my bank account. I never have enough money...I know, who doesn't? But I've had a lot of trouble since separating from Scott managing to have enough money for everything that I need money for (see application that has been sent to higher paying job in Alabama...) at the time that I need it AND being able to save any money. Couple that problem with my overabundance of worry genes and you can see the storm on the horizon.

Lightning strike number one came when I got home from Tennessee last night and checked my bank balance. I ADORE the online banking option with my bank...it really has done a lot for helping me manage my money because I can see how much I have at any given time, including how much will be left when pending transactions clear. I checked last night and there was a charge in the pending column that was almost $300 that I had NO recollection of making.

Now before you start thinking that I bought some outrageous pair of shoes or a new outfit...I don't do that. I buy my clothes at Walmart and Target. I balk if the tag says anything higher than the $10-15 mark, and at that mark it had better be a two piece suit or a buy one/get one free. I recently got a purse from Walmart.com and when it came today I considered sending it back because I still have life in my old threadbare back-killer that looks like a saddlebag AND it would be $22 that would be back in my account in case I need dog food or gas or cat meds or something.

I used to be absolutely AWFUL about spending money. Ask my soon-to-be-ex-husband, he'll tell you. I'd get things just because they were on sale. Not so much anymore. I'd spend hours on eBay and feel so stoked that I'd "won" the right to give someone else my hard earned money. I barely visit eBay these days.

Anyway, back to the mystery charge. I sent an email to my bank this morning flipping out that the charge was still there AND that I couldn't see who would be getting 1/3 of my paycheck. All I could imagine was how my rent check was going to bounce...that I only had enough dog food for 3 more meals in the freezer...that I had only enough bottled water for about another day for me...that I would need gas money by Thursday...that I didn't get paid again until the 16th...it was bad, y'all. So bad, in fact, that I did what all those suffering from what my groovy one-time therapist Neil called "situational depression" (the kind that isn't really treatable by meds, but more effectively by ridding oneself of the thing or person causing it) do in lieu of being able to change the situation at hand...I took a two hour nap.

When I dragged myself out of bed and fed the poor puppers their unfortunately still frozen dinners, I realized that it was Profile's birthday. Number 11. I sat with him on the sofa and held a Frosty Paws doggie ice cream for him to eat, not telling him that I'd had it in the freezer since Jeany's birthday in April. The old thoughts started coming back...I can't afford these dogs...I'm not being fair to them or the cats...he should have fresh ice cream on his birthday...and yes, I know that they don't know the difference...

So I finally did something proactive...the bank hadn't emailed me back so I called their customer service line.

Did I mention that I love my bank?

The charge in question is from the hotel where I stayed last weekend. They charge the card used to make the reservation when you check in, and if you don't make changes as you check out it just stays as is. Well...we made changes and split the bill, and that charge showed up as well. The wonderful person I talked to said that they would settle up the account tonight, and if when they checked with the hotel the charge was not removed that they would dispute it. "We will get this taken care of and off your account, Ms. Lassiter," she assured me. I wanted to hug her.

So what did I learn? That I can be proactive, and that I can take care of myself. My animals have food in their stomachs. I have a check on the way from a free lance job I did last month that will help some. I won't be negative (at least I don't think I will) before payday. It will be okay, even if the job in Alabama doesn't work out.

I learned that I need to work on my patience, and that if I do, everything will work out at the end of the half hour.

Rat Cheese and TeePee Drive

...or how NOT to go from Gatlinburg, Tennessee to Greenville, SC...

Take out a map and look up Gatlinburg. Go on, I'll wait. This morning Amy and I had two choices for our route home from Mountain Hounds (at 9:30 when we got in the car to leave). We could leave the hotel, follow Aiport Drive (I think) down to 441, the main drag through Gatlinburg and either turn right (following either 441 or 321 I think up to I-40, then 40-26-25-home) or left (certain doom, moccasins, gorges, waterfalls, and rat cheese).

Which one do YOU think we took?

Now to Amy's credit she is much better at reading a map on the fly and figuring out where we are, etc., than I am. Once I am out of my mouse trails I tend to panic. She also had to contend with a map that had been put together to be easily folded...by leaving out 1/4 inch spaces where each fold should go and therefore leaving out whole towns and important interchanges!! However, as she said, "My husband is going to die laughing when he hears that I was the navigator."

After leaving Gatlinburg we sailed through the Great Smokey Mountains National Park at a blistering 30 miles per hour. We reached Cherokee, NC finally and stopped for breakfast at a McDonalds. I'm thinking that the reservation only has one McDonalds as we sat in the drive thru for 20 minutes.

Yes, it was THAT important for me to have my sausage and egg mcmuffin this morning.

We left Cherokee and soon discovered we really didn't know where we were headed. Amy whipped out the map and to my horror we discovered that it was manufactured by MAPQUEST, the aforementioned minon of the Hot Place that got us so lost on the way TO Gatlinburg. She plotted us a course and we took it...then decided that since we were in NC and wanting to go to SC that going WEST was the wrong way to be going. We turned around and got on what we thought was the right road, only to end up back in Cherokee.

I had just managed to shake off the feelings of guilt and sadness that Cherokee always conjures as we passed TeePee Drive for the second time, too...

From Cherokee it looked on the map to be a short ride down to Franklin, NC, then to Highlands, then Cashiers, then onto highway 276 which actually runs in front of my neighborhood here in Greenville. No Problem!

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you just keep driving and driving and nothing looks familiar but looks just like what you just passed, and you are so tired you can't think to do anything but cry?

Highway 64 through NC is also of the Hot Place. That road is so windy that a few times we almost came to a dead stop in the curves. The scenery is nice if you aren't afraid of heights..."Hey, THAT'S why they call this a gorge, huh?" Not to mention the four greyhounds crammed into the back of the Hounda that were being bounced about on top of each other. Bless their hearts, Jeany yelled at the others all the way home but no blood was shed...

I'm home now...we arrived almost exactly 6 hours after we left the hotel. SIX HOURS. Next time I'm going to stay on interstates regardless of how far out of the way it takes me...at least I won't have to drive through Cherokee twice or see signs advertising Rat Cheese and Pottery.

Sylva: As Bad as Being Lost in Downtown Atlanta

Amy and I started out today for Mountain Hounds, a weekend greyhound gathering for greyhounds and their humans, at 7am. We sailed through downtown Greenville. We flew up 25 to Interstate 26. We nearly glided onto Interstate 40, more like a cloud caught on a breeze than a car on the highway.

And it was there, on Interstate 40, that our happy little fluffy cloud turned into a screaming thunder storm...

We were cruising along when it suddenly occured to me that I didn't know where our next turn-off was and the directions were somewhere on the floor. I dug through McD's cups and dog food bags, with an occasional poke in the elbow from whichever dog happened to be sticking a nose through the seats to see where on earth Mommy was taking them, until I found the Mapquested directions.

Mapquest, Amy and I have since decided, is not of our Lord. It is evil and is probably run by minions of the Hot Place who sit back and watch as unsuspecting travellers like us forgo the warning to "check all routes in advance of travel" and strike out with only a list of turns and interstate numbers as our guide.

Anyway, we followed the directions down the page until it said to get off 40 at exit 27. The problem with that was that we had just passed exit 20 and the exit numbers were getting smaller...so we turned around and went back. At exit 27, the numbers on the side of the road did NOT match the ones on the paper, so I did what any red blooded Southern American girl would do in such a crisis.

I called my Daddy.

"Where are you?"
"Um...Sylva."
"Sylva? Oh, oh me..."
"What? Is that bad?"
"Umm...yes."
"Bad like not hard to fix bad, or bad like the time I called you from downtown Atlanta, completely lost and only able to see the capital dome ahead of me?"
"Bad like that second thing."
"Okay, well, we're on the Blue Ridge Parkway."
"Blue Ridge Parkway! Nancy! What are you doing over there?"
"What? Where does it go?"
"Virginia."

At that point I nearly lost my composure, but happened to hear a tiny voice in the background that brought everything back to the hilarity of the moment...it was my mother's voice in the background: "Why are you telling her to go to Virginia?"

Dad eventually handed the phone over to Mom, and as she was reminding me of all the five zillion times I'd travelled through the Great Smokey Mountains Amy smartly went into the nearest gas station and asked for directions.

We are here now, and being lazy. The trip seemed to take forever because we came up through the Great Smokey Mtns National Park...30 miles at 35mph behind, I think, every Harley owner from NC, SC, GA, and Tennessee.

I'm kinda thinking that we will head home on 40 and just press on that way...but who knows, maybe we'll make a pit stop in Virginia first.

Just checking in...

Hope everyone had a safe Memorial Day...

I wanted to let those of you that have expressed concern know that last night I got approximately eight hours of only slightly uninterrupted sleep. I konked out on the sofa at my sister and brother-in-law's watching a movie at about 2am, woke up at 5am and went to the guest room, where I fell back into bed and slept till 10am. No drugs. No sleep aids of any kind unless you count Julia Roberts in a movie I'd never heard of a sleep aid. Maybe I should keep that in mind.

Eyes on the Prize

Miss Daisy in the lineup waiting for her first maiden race at Sanford Orlando Kennel Club. Thanks abundant and overflowing to her Auntie Janet for getting this shot...I haven't seen my babygirl since March. She didn't quite make the prize, she actually collided in the first turn and lost a lot of ground, but we'll get 'em next time!

Top 10 Reasons Why Insomnia Sucks

10. I have to work tomorrow...at 8:30am...and it's 4am right now.

9. My eating schedule is thrown off when it's been seven hours since the half a container of sherbert that I ate for dessert (after some cucumber dill hummus and whole wheat pita bread accompanied by some wonderful Amish smoked cheddar).

8. Everything is worse at 4am.

7. Everything is never-ending, in addition to being worse, at 4am.

6. My alarm clock will be going off in 2.5 hours.

5. The alarm on the television in my bedroom will be going off in 2.25 hours.

4. The fuzzy alarm clocks with feet will be whining, mewling, and generally being fussy in about 3 hours.

3. I am more alone than anyone on the earth...at 4am. By six I'll be back with all the other slobs that have to work for a living.

2. It seems like my divorce will never happen and I will never be free...at 4am.

And the number one reason why insomnia sucks:

1. There are only so many times I can call in sick based on only getting a few hours of sleep before they recommend therapy...yay working for DMH!

If anyone knows where the "off" switch is for my brain, could you let me know? I lost the manual years ago and it's been a whirlygig up there ever since. I'm amazed that I can sleep at all.

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes...Isn't It?

Lordy, I hope not.

This morning, in between viciously pounding on the snooze button on the alarm clock, I had a dream about Scott. I was in my new place but it wasn't the house I live in now. It was a LOT bigger, and the backyard was nothing but a tennis court. Anyway, the jist of the dream was that he was following me around in my house, DOING THINGS. Like for instance, I was making coffee and I put the filter with the coffee in it into the machine, then filled up the carafe to add water to the machine. When I poured the water into the machine, it overflowed because someone had already put water in it. The food that was supposed to be in my refrigerator was actually in my freezer, though I remembered putting it in the correct place. Therefore, all my food had to be thawed before it could be used. Lights were on in rooms where I wasn't, or I'd walk into a room and turn on the light and POOF it would go back off.

I finally caught him in my bedroom going through the boxes of clothes that I haven't unpacked yet and taking t-shirts out. He said they were his, and I had no right to steal them from him. I countered with the fact that he had no right to mess up my house and he said...and I remember this clearly because I remember feeling like I'd been hit in the stomach..."Yes I do, I'm your husband till November."

Where's that application for that job in Alabama?

More Lessons Learned

I have learned this weekend that it is possible to strain muscles by simply sitting still for too long.

I have learned this weekend that I CAN transliterate and almost do oral interpreting, but not quite. It is definitely still out of my comfort zone.

I have learned this weekend that there is not a good way to sign the following things:
"I'm like a mosquito in a nudist colony, they all look good to me!"
"That's what *I* call him, Yomama Been Hidin' because we can't find him."
"Don't need to grow pheasant long because they ain't gonna be around very long anyway."
"I don't want nobody peeing on my dream."
"Good Lord only put one opening in the back and it ain't to look through, unless you have a really crappy outlook."
"Besides, I'm country, and when someone says pound that means beat the fire out of something."

There was one speaker that spoke so fast I bit my own tongue in TWO places trying to keep up!

Never a dull moment in my job, ever...

Daisy Stops Waiting

No, she's not coming home to me yet. In fact...as quoted from her blog...

17 May 2006

Results from SOKC, 1st Schooling Race...

NINTH RACE Grade . 5-16 Mile Track F Time 31.73
Fth Oopsie Daisy 64½ 5 2 13 12 11½ 31.73 Held Comfortabl Lead
Where's Lo Tide 63½ 4 1 2 2 21½ 31.84 Second Best,Inside
Yale 80 1 4 4 3 37 32.24 Held Safe Show,Mid
Dar's Jambalaya 71 7 5 5 6 49½ 32.41 Stretch Gain,Midtrk
Mccool Mitchell 65½ 8 3 3 4 513 32.71 Lacked Late Effort
Nebefer 56 2 6 6 5 616 32.93 Wknd Late,Went Wide
Orl 17 3 Scratched
Orl 18 6 Scratched

Jessica Michaud Ken’s Red F, August 2004, Cm Stormy—Lady Leelo
5 Fth Oopsie Daisy
4 Where’s Lo Tide
1 Yale

Her sisters did well also...Hallie just edged out her competition to come in first with a time of 31.33, second place dog was 31.40. Sophie Sox won her schooling race, finishing with a time of 31.73, and Bonnie Boo won HER race with a time of 32.14! Well done ladies, well done indeed!!

But Daisy! Lordy! 31.73 is nothing to sneeze at...that's my babygirl!!

For those confused by all those numbers, my babygirl, who currently weighs 64.5lbs (a whole ten pounds more than Jeany!!)had the number 5 spot, and she won her race, 11.5 lengths in front of the closest dog behind her (I think that's what the 11.5 means). Her time running 5/16 of a mile was 31.73 seconds. Whoooooosh!

Happy Mother's Day...to Me

Sluuurrrp!
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.

They may not be my real offspring. They may be furry and four-legged. They may chew my shoes, pee and poop on my floor, break things with their tails or unravel rugs with their claws. They may purr and roo rather that laugh and sing.

They may be my pets, rather than my children, but I am still the Mommy, and today celebrate the love that they give me...no conditions, no demands...they just love me...because I'm the Mommy.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you, moms of skin-kids and fur-kids alike.

Sometimes you have to bite your lip and shove

I got a cabinet for my bathroom because this house has a serious lack of storage space. I guess when the original residents lived here their towels and other bathroom sundries just magically disappeared from sight when company came, then reappeared when needed? Anyway, I have installed three wall cabinets and added a floor cabinet to the bathroom since I moved in...all three of which will be leaving with me when I move unless my landlord wants to pay me for them.



When in the box, the cabinet did not look as big as it actually is. There was also no warning about how heavy it was going to be or instructions on how to use the sleeves that are required when one hangs something heavy on a sheetrock/drywall bathroom wall.

Some of the frustration, fatigue, and general irritability from yesterday was still lingering this morning but I had to press on and hang the darned thing because I have to return the drill to my father this evening. Add into the mix that I have limited upper body strength and limited patience with things that don't go right the first time AND that I got about four hours of sleep last night and you can probably imagine the fiesta that was the Hanging of the Cabinet.

But you know what? I did it. All by myself save one call to Scott to ask if the sleeves were supposed to be flush with the wall...I hung the cabinet. There were several failed attempts and some tears and a few "I HATE THIS CABINET!" exclamations, but it is now on my wall, hopefully sturdy and filled with the stuff that I don't want just sitting out for all to see. I found the holes on the back of the cabinet, somehow sprouted two extra hands and found the screws in the wall, bit my lip and shoved...and the cabinet stayed!



Geeeeezominey, I hope that thing doesn't fall on my head the next time I have to use the toilet...

I've learned something today...

First of all, I've learned it really makes me mad when Blogger isn't letting me log in to post something...

I am remarkably okay with my divorce. I don't want to live with Scott anymore. I still care for him, and probably always will, but I can say with 100% certainty that I no longer love him. I am certainly not in love with him, and I can almost pinpoint the time when that ceased to be the case.

But there is something I learned today about divorce...you lose a lot more than a spouse you can't get along with, a house that is filthy to the point of making you sick, or a last name that you never really wanted in the first place. You lose a family.

Today I saw two of Scott's brothers and his nephew Zach. Somehow, because I haven't seen them since we decided to get a divorce, it was almost easy for me to just close that chapter of my life. It was simple: I never had brothers, I never had sisters other than my biological sister Susan. I never had nieces or nephews or mothers/fathers-in-law. I'm very good at that kind of closure...cut it off like it was never there and it can't hurt you.

But it can...in very real and painful ways. Jack hugged me and told me he missed me. Chris asked how I was, and it wasn't just a cursory "how are you" that you'd toss out to a stranger you pass in the hallway. And when I hugged each of them...well, after I left the Anderson House and lead my sister and her husband back up to Greenville, I cried about half of the way. Luckily everything in my car was an allergen at that point so it wasn't out of the ordinary that my eyes were red and nose was stuffy by the time we got to my house. I'd been washing dishes when Scott and Chris came by to bring me the lawnmower and barstools, and after they left I cried again.

I lost a huge family in one blink of an eye. In one late night conversation with Scott, I lost three brothers, four sisters, two nephews and three nieces. I lost two mothers-in-law and a father-in-law. Today was the first time I'd seen any of them since Christmas 2004, and I just hadn't thought about how much I missed them...or how much THEY were the reason I stayed with Scott as long as I did. He and I should have split in 2001, but at least for my part I stayed with him because I loved THEM. On the one hand it was good that both Chris and Jack gave me a hug and were still friendly, but I think it just made things hurt all the more.

I have to get out of South Carolina if my heart is ever going to completely heal. That's what I've learned today.