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Bettie Boop
Who 's Your Inner Sexy Cartoon Chick ?
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Doesn't surprise me in the least. Not what I was going for.
Bettie Boop
Who 's Your Inner Sexy Cartoon Chick ?
brought to you by Quizilla
Doesn't surprise me in the least. Not what I was going for.
Bettie Boop
Who 's Your Inner Sexy Cartoon Chick ?
brought to you by Quizilla
Doesn't surprise me in the least. Not what I was going for.
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Not too far off, actually. How they do that?
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Not too far off, actually. How they do that?
Truly, Madly, Deeply...
What kind of love are you in?
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Awwwww. Only half the equation, boys and girls.
Truly, Madly, Deeply...
What kind of love are you in?
brought to you by Quizilla
Awwwww. Only half the equation, boys and girls.
What Common Breed of Dog Are You?
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I know, I know. But these are fun! And this one...I'd never ever have thought of myself as a dobie, but damn, the description was written by someone who's been lurking outside my house and taking notes, dammit!
What Common Breed of Dog Are You?
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I know, I know. But these are fun! And this one...I'd never ever have thought of myself as a dobie, but damn, the description was written by someone who's been lurking outside my house and taking notes, dammit!
What Is Your Animal Personality?
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Took this one twice, changing several ambiguous answers--same result. Hmmph.
What Is Your Animal Personality?
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Took this one twice, changing several ambiguous answers--same result. Hmmph.
You are The Oracle, from "The Matrix."
Wise, kind, honest- is there anything slightly
negative about you? You are genuinely
supportive of others. Careful not to let people
take advantage of you, though.
What Matrix Persona Are You?
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Okay, what does it say about me that I'm pleased enough to take this? I don't know that I ever had fire enough to be Trinity, certainty enough to be Morpheus. I'm...content...with The Oracle. She was more than her surface.
In other news, I woke up dreaming the old argument with Mom--territory. She was clearing out and cleaning up--all my stuff. In all the years we've shared this house it has never occurred to her that one old woman actually shouldn't take up more space than two working adults and two growing children with hobbies and crafts and sports equipment and tools. She has never found it in the least ironic that we have rented a series of storage units over the years and paid thousands in rent on storage space while her bits and bobs that she will never use again and probably had no use for to begin with, her broken appliances and leftover parts of things long gone, used up and trashed, these things get house room because they're "hers." I've had "advice" from so many friends on how to handle this, "Why don't you..?" And the simple fact is, that the reason why I don't is that it wouldn't work. The situation isn't manageable by the usual methods. And it would do irreparable harm--to me--to cause the distress that such confrontation would inevitably result in. And so we grind along toward an ending. Which may not be so long away, now.
I heard from an old friend, finally. It had been months, and I knew she wasn't well, and I knew things were overwhelming for her, but damn. Is there some pandora's box that someone opened (in November of 2000, perhaps?) that has sent the whole goddam world spiraling down some cosmic toilet? Her husband, considerably older than she, has something going on which is more than simply age-related, and they can't get a straight answer from the doctors they've seen. One of their pets--the favorite, of course--died, and they found out later that the cause was something they could have treated, with variable success, but still they could have tried, had they known. And it was possibly related to her own, and her husband's illness, being affected by a poisoned environment.
Another friend's husband is in congestive heart failure--they are tens of thousands into debt, they may lose their house, he's no longer able to tend their business so it's all in her lap, and she's ill-suited to it and hates it besides, but they have no other income. And still another friend goes from health crisis to health scare, after more than one lifetime's share of dances with death.
Is this what's left? After we get the kids out and on their own, and it should be our turn to take it a little easy--to find ourselves competing with 20 year olds for high-stress, low-satisfaction jobs, just to make ends meet, for our hard-fought investments to be worth little more than if we'd stuffed the mattress with the money, with no equity in a house we don't own and an elderly relative who complicates the simplest plan for a day's outing.
Exactly what was the point? We continue to be a partnership, a duo, pulling in tandem, a rock and support for each other. But we are no longer the reason to go forward. He is not for me, and I certainly am not for him, and "us" matters less and less to each of us. We are a convenience, and lately, little more than a long and steady friendship. 35 years in a few weeks--two, exactly--and I can't remember the last time we had sex. My weight, his medication, his depression, my body image, a mutual lack of interest, not in the act, but in each other.
This is new. And I don't think I like it. As a matter of fact, there isn't a lot about my life right now I can think of that I do like. And not just my life. The whole world seems pretty bleak and grey right now. Unless you're a rich Republican, that is.
You are The Oracle, from "The Matrix."
Wise, kind, honest- is there anything slightly
negative about you? You are genuinely
supportive of others. Careful not to let people
take advantage of you, though.
What Matrix Persona Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Okay, what does it say about me that I'm pleased enough to take this? I don't know that I ever had fire enough to be Trinity, certainty enough to be Morpheus. I'm...content...with The Oracle. She was more than her surface.
In other news, I woke up dreaming the old argument with Mom--territory. She was clearing out and cleaning up--all my stuff. In all the years we've shared this house it has never occurred to her that one old woman actually shouldn't take up more space than two working adults and two growing children with hobbies and crafts and sports equipment and tools. She has never found it in the least ironic that we have rented a series of storage units over the years and paid thousands in rent on storage space while her bits and bobs that she will never use again and probably had no use for to begin with, her broken appliances and leftover parts of things long gone, used up and trashed, these things get house room because they're "hers." I've had "advice" from so many friends on how to handle this, "Why don't you..?" And the simple fact is, that the reason why I don't is that it wouldn't work. The situation isn't manageable by the usual methods. And it would do irreparable harm--to me--to cause the distress that such confrontation would inevitably result in. And so we grind along toward an ending. Which may not be so long away, now.
I heard from an old friend, finally. It had been months, and I knew she wasn't well, and I knew things were overwhelming for her, but damn. Is there some pandora's box that someone opened (in November of 2000, perhaps?) that has sent the whole goddam world spiraling down some cosmic toilet? Her husband, considerably older than she, has something going on which is more than simply age-related, and they can't get a straight answer from the doctors they've seen. One of their pets--the favorite, of course--died, and they found out later that the cause was something they could have treated, with variable success, but still they could have tried, had they known. And it was possibly related to her own, and her husband's illness, being affected by a poisoned environment.
Another friend's husband is in congestive heart failure--they are tens of thousands into debt, they may lose their house, he's no longer able to tend their business so it's all in her lap, and she's ill-suited to it and hates it besides, but they have no other income. And still another friend goes from health crisis to health scare, after more than one lifetime's share of dances with death.
Is this what's left? After we get the kids out and on their own, and it should be our turn to take it a little easy--to find ourselves competing with 20 year olds for high-stress, low-satisfaction jobs, just to make ends meet, for our hard-fought investments to be worth little more than if we'd stuffed the mattress with the money, with no equity in a house we don't own and an elderly relative who complicates the simplest plan for a day's outing.
Exactly what was the point? We continue to be a partnership, a duo, pulling in tandem, a rock and support for each other. But we are no longer the reason to go forward. He is not for me, and I certainly am not for him, and "us" matters less and less to each of us. We are a convenience, and lately, little more than a long and steady friendship. 35 years in a few weeks--two, exactly--and I can't remember the last time we had sex. My weight, his medication, his depression, my body image, a mutual lack of interest, not in the act, but in each other.
This is new. And I don't think I like it. As a matter of fact, there isn't a lot about my life right now I can think of that I do like. And not just my life. The whole world seems pretty bleak and grey right now. Unless you're a rich Republican, that is.
.