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I have become the antithesis of everything I’ve held dear.  I guess being a couch potato does strange things to some.  But since I broke my ankle I’ve started watching (and liking) Roseanne, Sex in the City (I confess I only like to see Chris Noth in any state of undress).  I adore Dog the Bounty Hunter.  Actually I’ve always liked that show and I think his wife Beth is the brains behind the operation.  There are a lot of closet Dog fans.  As a matter of fact one of the most highly intelligent people I ever met (my mom’s neighbor who lives in Hawaii for half the year) admitted she loved the show.  I asked her to get his autograph if she bumps into him since he lives and works in Hawaii.  (I’ve never asked for anyone’s autograph in my life).

What’s next spraying Cheeze Wiz out of the can directly into my mouth while watching soaps or bad talk shows. Just shoot me now.

Well, being a couch potato is one thing I don't aspire to be when I grow up.  There is just so much t.v. you can watch, stuff you can read.  And forget creativity it's nowhere to be found.  As I said when you get to do nothing by choice it's fun but when it's foisted on you it sucks.  I've really been good and stayed off my ankle partly because the cast they gave me needs a staff member from NASA to assist me.  Next Monday I'll see the doctor again and get another x-ray.  I hope I'm cleared for take off.

Just woke up now that I'm not following any of the worlds hours.  Go to bed these days when my husband gets up which is good because I get the whole bed to myself.  One thing we should have done nine years ago when we moved in here was get a king sized bed.  Our bedroom actually has enough room or did.  If we move all the crap we could still fit on in there.  Now I'm going to have to wait till someone in this house is drawing a salary.  What can I say I like to stretch out.  When you're single I guess a Queen or double is romantic because you want to snuggle.  When you're married you want to sleep.  I also love to stretch out vertically which I also noticed that my eight year old likes to do so if he jumps in the bed its all over.  And if he happens to take a nap with me I wind up sleeping on the floor because he's so huge I wind up with a foot in my face.  Actually he's so big now his feet are as big as mine.  Geez my husband just brought him home from school and we got into a useless argument about my son watching something "On Demand" on HBO which we get for free and my husband for some odd reason taped this a.m. (The Cat in the Hat) like he'll ever watch it again.  So my son chose the smart path he's watching it "On Demand" which I think is so much fun because you can pause an fast forward and freeze the t.v. screen.  Husband argues that you can do the same with a vcr tape.  Unfortunately my husband uses crappy vcr tapes.  Can't wait till DVD recorders are pennies and we finally get rid of tapes once and for good wow will he get confused.  This was a funny movie.  I'm not sure why it bombed at the box office.  Probably because the jokes were all geared to adults and I was one of the five adults who saw it.  My kid didn't move during the entire movie and I laughed my head off.

Well, it's been hours since I started writing this. Because I've spent the afternoon IM'ing with one of my favoritest people in the world.  She's the only one who gets to IM me in fact.  Ah she's back much more interesting than what I was saying.  Good hubby and son will go out to the store. 

Had to do a couple of annoying things like straighten out something with a not too brite e-bay seller.  Pisses me off now to think of all the rare books and other items I had which my ex husband threw away -- the only thing I asked him for in the divorce agreement was to take care of my cat and store my stuff for six months and he trashed everything.  No I didn't take him to court.  He was a bastard.  I left with the clothes on my back, extracted a promise that he'd keep my stuff (actually it was the only thing I asked for in the divorce papers).  He was an abusive sob.  Not with his fists but with his mouth and I didn't realize it then first of all that verbal abuse exists and it's worse than if someone hits you because had he hit me I would have been out of there sooner.  But he threw away all my books (and I had some first editions), all my artwork, clothes, I even had original cels from the Yellow Submarine.  Anyway the entire contents of what he trashed could make me very comfortable if I were to sell it on e-bay today.  Anyway I'm bidding on some odd stuff like a Dog the Bounty Hunter t-shirt.  Not the kind from Dog's website but a real one that someone in Hawaii got.  Competition is fierce.  Pretty funny.  I guess we all find our heros in the least expected places.  I mean I find myself eating up this t.v. show (I suspect a lot of people do since a lot of us are bidding on the same t-shirt) but I love watching this guys show.  Actually I love his wife because she's the real brains behind the operation.  I've learned how true it is that they say there's a great woman behind every great man because frankly he might be able to lift a huge crate I'd drop on my own foot but if I didn't tell him where to put the crate he would drop it on his foot.  I don't wish ill will on Katie Holmes (she's marrying it and having it's baby) but I hope she has hormone swings, cravings and post partum depression so dopey Tom will realize that it can't be cured with vitamins.  What I really hope is she drops that loser before she gives birth.  She's a talented enough actress and the world will never find out if she stays with him not unlike Nicole Kidman whose career took off when she dumped him.  Right now my eight year old alter ego is sharing this table with me.  He's doing his homework.  Thankfully my husband went out (I'll spare everyone a dissortation on him today).  It's supposed to snow six inches tonight which means a lot of guys will be freezing their peckers off tonight because you know they will want to check the dipstick and really see how big it is.  Anyway my son and I are trying to out annoy one another.  He's humming the disco music from Shrek which I hate so I'm throwing spit balls at him.  I love this kid so much.  He's already told me he's smarter than his dad (which is true) but he's also told me that mom is much smarter than dad (which is also true). 

Aww my son called that specialist person I was talking about.  I got to say a quick hi.  Anyway he melted her into a pile of good which is about the best compliment anyone can get.  As I said she's pretty special even though I'm sure she blushes when I tell her.

I've always wondered what it would be like if Ed McMahon ever knocked at my door telling me that I've won publishers clearing house.  I doubt I'll ever know because I never enter and even if I did win the happy van would have no where to park in this neighborhood.  It's pretty funny because my old boss who had money coming out of his ears, gave to lots of charities and was the nastiest person I've ever met always entered and had the nerve to use the office postage machine for his entries.  They say money comes to money.  So what I'm going to do is try to get a government grant for some money to see if the saying is really true because I have no experience in the field.  My ankle hurts.  Yesterday I went out for the first time sans cast with an Ace ankle support and my Timberland hiking boots which could support anyone's ankle.  It felt good to be outside but today I'm paying the price.  Which makes me wonder if the darn thing is healed.  I can't take much more of this confinement and I can't stand wearing the space cast and I have no fun painkillers to make me happy.  At least if I had the third it might be bearable.  My "boys" are out at my nieces party.  I know just the way to get them to come home settle down and watch something I really want to.  Then my apartment will be filled with the stomping of feet and lots of noise in 1.3 seconds.  Maybe I can get a government grant to study that.

I went back to the doctor today.  Said my ankle is healing fine. I don't need therapy (at least not for my bones) and to see him in five weeks.  I told the doctor that giving me that awful cast was incentive to stay off the ankle in the first place.  (The ski/space boot thingy which you need someone else to put on and then pump it full of air).  It's probably the reason I healed the way I did.  But I still have to take it easy.  Guess it's not the time to take up kickboxing.

Didn't go on my computer at all yesterday.  Did I miss anything?  No.  Did anyone miss me?  No.  My spam folder didn't even have anything interesting.

Someone I once knew said that people are only motivated by two things fear and greed.  I realize that I am one who is only motivated by fear.  Not having enough money, not finding a job my relationship with God grows closer than ever, I start to write.  When it's a summer day and the sun is shining who wants to write about it.  Greed I've spend a great deal of my life working for people who are motivated by greed.  I'm happy to say that's a life skill I've never acquired.  And I don't get it.  If you always want more when is enough?  And is enough ever enough? Kind of like a hamster running around and around on the wheel of eternity. 

I've been downloading contemporary Christian music (still can't get used to that -- 20 years ago it wasn't around) trying to get my voice in shape should I live till January and not have some plague and finally audtion.  Today I could be a frog. (The story of Moses anyone?)

 It seems every song I hear I say nope can't do that one because it anyone heard the person who recorded it I'm dead.  Then again I have to come down to earth and remember what it's all about.  It's hard to explain.  I mean I could be like some of the well meaning evangelizing people I despise but that just isn't my style.  What amazes me is that more people seem to be more offended by the "J" word than the "F" word.

I'm wide awake because I fell asleep on the couch.  My heartburn was also a factor.  So I woke up long enough to go to bed.  Last night I was in bed before 2:00 a.m. so today I woke up at 11 and the day seemed to go on forever.  Now I'm waiting for all the antacids to kick in and hoping the Prilosec will hold back the other gastric juices that are melting my esophagus.  That's what I get for having a my head in a toilet bowl for 20 years.  Fortunately that's all I've gotten from what I know.  The clock is ticking, the crickets are chirping and I think one of my neighbors is moving their furniture.  The transit strike is on day two.  Makes me glad I don't have a job right now.  I remember the one 25 years ago and it was really a life time  -- now that I'm almost twice that age.  Scares me.  Makes me think of my own mortality.  Soon and very soon we're going to see the King...hallelujah, hallelujah we're going to see the King. 

Just realized that an unknowing person would probably think I'm taking about Elvis and cracked up.  I am so easily amused.

Tyelenol didn't help as if it ever has.  Nope give me some good old fashioned narcotics thank you.  My heartburn still hasn't gone away.  Damn it will I ever be creative again.  Spent so much damn money on a dream that seems to have died.  Remembering my favorite line in the movie Flashdance "if you lose your dream you die." 

Just learned a new skill how to delete crap from my tagboard.  If you don't have something constructive to say get off my tagboard or you're going to end up in the garbage bin.

Tonight I was pretty funny.  The asshole who is the head of the transit union looks -- the minute you see Al Sharpton around someone you know they are trouble and this guy seems like nothing but trouble.  Tonight my husband got to witness my unconventional prayer life.  Like when I had to call my doctors office to read them the riot act because they screwed up my meds once more.  Me looking up at the ceiling and saying "please Lord won't you give me permission to sin?"  Amazing when I think of the temper I used to have.  Yep the J word has definitely replaced the f word.  But tonight when that nimrod head of the transit union was babbling I said "please God I'm not asking you to strike him down but just put him out of commission so someone else can take over."If it's true that on judgment day God is going to show me a movie of "this is your life" it's going to be one heck of a comedy. 

I've heard the expression get a life?  Can I get one on E-bay?

It's so interesting how every time I wake up and you are writing in your diary you scurry away like a rat and lock it up in your trunk suddenly doing "chores" around the house.  And I aleady said "don't stop writing on my account" as if I want to read the crap in your diary.  I learned my lesson years ago.  It took a big dose of reality when I found out your ex-wife didn't have 12 heads and 9 eyes especially when she and I became friends.  And I've been "honored" to see some of the entries about me.  As I said to your ex "if you had 12 heads and 9 eyes then I am a far worse creature."  She's the one who clued me in as to how you fit the truth to suit your needs and your "selective" memory which, of course, works in your favor.  After all you'd never "remember" anything that makes you look bad.  You forget in the nine or so years I've been with you I have a much better memory than you do.  (Probably because I didn't spend half my life doped up on whatever I could get my hands on.)  Also I face reality.  Like the times I've been ready to throw you out on your ass.  Like when you crashed the desktop twice because you were looking at naked ladies and you couldn't understand why that upset me.  You begged for "parental controls" when I told you I was divorcing you.  That seems to be the only threat that's worked.  Because when you refused to get "clean" so you would get off your ass and get a job I said get the h--l out an I meant it.  I didn't want to be a single mother but I didn't want my kid to go through what you already went through with your last kid.  DUMB ASS YOU FINALLY ADMITTED THAT YOU LOST ALL VISITATION BECAUSE YOU WOULDN'T QUIT SMOKING.  You are still a horses ass now that your son is 20 and you still blame you ex.  It's also pretty funny how the "tenets" of my faith won't allow me to divorce you.  I mean I had my chance when you "cheated" on me although to this day you can't see it.  No wonder I've become such a prayer warrior. If I was paid for all the time I've spent praying for my enemies and the people who've hurt me I'd be living in Trump towers.  Hawaii. 

Just received my long awaited t-shirt.  It's the wrong size.  It was supposed to be a men's small which would normally fit me and they sent me a children's size.  It wouldn't even fit my eight year old.  I paid for it by personal check yet.  My husband rolled his eyes and said "did you pay for it" and I said "yes, dearly".  Silence.  He never asks me what I spent or what I paid because he ususally doesn't like the answer.  And since I've earned just about all the money in this house for the past nine years there's little he can say.  Hope I don't have a problem.  Just want a shirt that fits.

I am bored to tears.  I have too much time on my hands which puts me in the mood to do nothing.

My husband decided the other day to let me know that he thought our son would love a train set for Christmas.  So as I scrambled into Target today to find the alternate gifts I felt like someone must feel when they come out of a coma.  "It's almost Christmas and I have a kid and want to get him
"this" toy."

 As far as the train set went I told my husband he should have told me a month before.  Today as we stood in Target it was crowded at 1:00 p.m. he was saying "gee maybe you can get one on e-bay."  For some reason American Express loves me and has extended my credit up the wazoo which is good and bad.  Good in that I'm using my card, bad in that I'm using my card.  By next month someone in this house should be working.

 Anyway, I did get my kid some stuff.  Mind you he's not even expecting anything.  It's been a weird kind of thing.  I mean we've never gotten a tree.  The minute I rediscovered "my faith" my mom decided I wasn't Jewish anymore and pushed for a menorah.  (I actually have one.  Sent to me by my Methodist/New Age (may she rest in peace) mother in law. Which I've never used pretty as it is.   I've gotten tired of trying to "explain" to my mom that I'm not any less Jewish. (Mom you forget when we were growing up you weren't observant but at the holidays we had a Christmas tree and a Menorah.  Selective memory -- husband suffers from the same syndrome.)  Anyway, she was giving me a lecture the other day about what a horrible movie the Passion was because it was anti-semetic...and she's never even seen it.  And I tried to explain (I've seen it four times) that of course he was being yelled at by a Jewish crowd after all he was in a synagogue.  I remember when I saw that movie.  I went by myself the day it opened.  Sat in a theatre sobbing my heart out till the end till one particlar scene -- if you saw the movie and are on the same page I am you'll know which scene that was -- screaming at the screen "you go God go and kick some devil butt."  The woman behind me was crying so loud I gave her some tissues and put my arm around her.  When I left the theatre I saw a bunch of people with literature at a table -- uh oh protesters -- and the guy said to me "so what did you think of the movie?" And I said "well I might not be the right person to ask because I'm biased and for me it's a love story..." turned out they were from The Chosen People (one of the groups of "Messianic Jews" who popped out of the Jews for Jesus movement).  Why am I going on about this.  Well it's a blog don't read it if I'm boring you.  My mind has been doing such a memory jump.  I got a trail subscription to Napster and right now I'm listening to Jungleland and can't believe the song is 25 or is it 30 years old.  Music brings me to different places and when I listen to music I write.  Kicks herself now why don't you put it some good use.  Anyway we got out of Target in less than a 1/2 hour -- I hate to shop for anything except when I get to go to another state and go into those jumbo airplane hangar supermarkets.  Listening to That Name.  Do I have enough guts to sing this at my choir audition if I ever do go through the process.  Pause thunk go into worship mode.  Note:  unless you worship in a church like mine you won't get what I'm talking about...just got hit in the head by a dove...later

Napster's gonna go after the free 7 day trial.   Found out that Dell is already giving it to me for free...

Broadband was worth every penny...

wireless is heaven...

sorry dummies in the hallway I know about encryption so you can't use my internet while you sit on the toilet with your laptop...

My love affair with "Dog the Bounty Hunter" is over.  I've been screwed by his so called fans on e-bay.  The first was a shirt I "bid" on only to find out that they manufacture them and they sent me the wrong size and want more money if I send it back because they said that's what they bid on.  Then in a moment of stupidity I joined their fan club.  It is run by a husband and wife who seem nice enough but you can't access their web site for long.  I'm out $50 and pissed off.  I'm not sending those jerks back the shirt or another check as for the fan club now I know why I never joined anyone's fan club before.  Back to Law & Order.  New York is my town anyway.

I hope that next year at this time I'm in a better mood than I am now.  This has been one of my worst years ever.  Well maybe not my worst.  I met a special friend who gave my stalled creative motor a revving up plus is the most specialist person I know.  Only for her would I use such silly words.  However, it seems that everything else I put my hand into turned into crap.  I'm wondering if it's in "God's Plan" as some of my church going friends would say that I got a job (okay a crummy one at that) lost it, thought I was going to get another job that didn't happen and in retrospect I'm glad but when I was going to interview for something decent I broke my ankle.  I want this year to be over soon so I won't have any more days in 2005 to gripe.  Today I feel like crap.  The only good thing was watching my son open up one of his presents.  He has to wait for tomorrow for the rest.  For me it's definitely a lump of coal.

I got a trial subscription to Napster which I tried to cancel before the seven days.  They must have some racket going because I was unable to access the software and their help center does not respond to my e-mails.  I e-mailed Pay Pal and said don't pay them and got an e-mail from Pay Pal saying there was no account set up.  And then my next e-mail message was from Pay Pal confirming that Napster had been paid.  I am going to blow a freaking gasket.  I'm sick of people trying to rip me off.  I've noticed that since I've been shopping on-line every other month or so I have some charge I have to dispute on my Amex card.  I was even told that what some sneaky people do is sign you up for one thing when you sign up for another.  Thank goodness the people at Amex are sane and I've had no trouble with them.  That's why I don't leave home without it.

The demons of hell have been chasing me and this morning I thought they won and then I woke up.  I had a night full of horror movies.  The recurring nightmares that I thought I was done with.  I guess with the inactivity of my body my brain feels it has to make it's own excitement. 

Things I know I need to do.  Get my ass moving.  Easier said than done.  Spend more time with God -- yeah I moved.  Make lemonade out of all these lemons or I'm going to have rotting fruit.

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

One of the things I used to do is write this poem out in longhand.  Usually when I was stuck on a subway, was nervous, a lot when I was with my ex husband.  I guess the way some people do puzzles, bite their nails, smoke, figure out a cure for cancer something to distract them for what ever reason.  I have spent the past 24 hours in the Land of Weird.  I went back to sleep because I felt like I had been drugged.  (No such luck.)  This time the dreams were very strange but at least I was on the winning end in each scenario.  How Sly Stallone and I were playing footsie while his wife was there is really going to the way back because I haven't had the hots for him since Rocky II.  Dreams.  Lots having to do with my ex husband.  Even though I've been divorced since 96 -- undid 12 years in 64 days -- the dreams still linger on.  For a long time I was having these dreams of my ex being a nice guy and he was being overly nice to me and I had to explain I was married and had a kid, in others he was filthy rich and has a girlfriend (really homely because her pictures were all over the walls in the dream) with a kid.  These dreams have some how "evolved" if you want to call it that.  He's morphed from being nice to being the SOB he was when we were married.  This time he was filthy rich and I stole his drivers license among other important things because he was filthy rich.  Only this time I told him how I wanted some of his money because of all the years I worked two jobs when he was going to the f-ing race track (that I found out later).  I really don't like to think about my ex.  He was the author of road rage.  He was verbally abusive.  Now that time has passed I've learned there is such a thing as verbal abuse and I wish he had hit me so I would have left.  He did beat up the cats on occasion.  Didn't every serial killer start by killing small animals.  I think also because the SOB destroyed something I couldn't replace.  I only asked for him to keep my stuff for six months (in the divorce agreement) and take care of my cat.  In that time he threw out all my artwork, journals, clothes, anything that had any kind of value.  In other words he threw out the first 39 years of my life.  People told me to take him to court but I refused for the same reason I managed to get a divorce so quickly is that I wanted him out of my life.  Had I not crash landed actually turned up on my current (and last) husbands doorstep three days after I left him I would have had a lot of time alone to figure out who I was.  Note:  When I married the man I'm married to now I told him I would never divorce him -- just murder him.  I  think he believed me.  He only slept with one eye closed for the first few years.  Wasn't he lucky that I fell back into a religion where murder is against the rules.  I could go on but I'm boring myself.  I think this is where when Grandpa tells the same story at Thanksgiving dinner that's the cue to run into the kitchen to get something you forgot.

My pharmicist didn't bother to call me back.  Who knows if she even got the message.  I hate all the red tape I have to go through.  It's not so much the insurance company giving their approval for "brand" it's the asswipes in the doctor's office (collective i.q. of 45) who screw up.  I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth after all free insurance is better than no insurance at all.  But if they don't straighten things out by tomorrow they are going to pay for a nice long stay in the looney bin.

When I want to kick the entire world in the ass I'm brought back to reality by a special person.  She's the only person in the world who knows when I'm on line because I don't let anyone else IM me.  When I look back on this year I can say she's the one bright and wonderful thing that happened to me.  They say it's harder to make friends when you get older.  I've never had that many friends.  Only a few people I ever trusted and still do.  She's one in a million and if nothing else inspires me to go back to work it will be the fact that I'll need money for a plane ticket so I can have that silly string fight with her in person.