litany of 1st world woes

Ta Dah!
I'm here! How are you doing, Tony?
I've been a little blue lately. Actually, ever since Robin Williams' death, I've just not quite had my joie de vivre going. I had my annual blood work drawn last Friday and I go to the doctor on the 10th to get the results. I'll talk to her about this general malaise I have and see what she recommends.
Maybe I'm just tired of being in a hot house. That is definitely becoming a drag. Ah, well, it's my own choice - if I really wanted to have the the AC fixed, I could just knuckle under and spend the money. As it is, there's only about another month of hot days, then we should be done with that. These highs in the 90's are rough.
Sorry to hear about the old man dying there. The VA has had quite a bit of that in the news, with folks dying while waiting for an appointment. There have even been cases of people dying while waiting to get on to a surgeon's schedule! Absolutely bad. I have found that I sometimes have a two or three month wait before I can see my VA doc - but that isn't much different than the wait I used to have for my civilian doc. Or for my dentist.
Anywho - I'm going to Tallahassee this weekend. Yeah! Secrest and I are going there for the Southeast premiere of a movie I helped support. That's right - when they were looking for funding on kickstarter, I added my $154 to the pile and they were successful! Now, two years later, the musical is done, it's won some awards at film festivals around the world, and it is traveling from England to the US to theaters around the country. Cool, right? I am excited about that. I'm hoping Penny and her family will go see the film with us, as well as Aunt Linda. It'll be shown twice, on Saturday and Sunday, one time each afternoon. I hope to attend both screenings, but we shall see.
Okay - time to get my silly self in gear and drive on out of here!
with my love

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

I have lost my joie de vivre. I cannot seem to shake this general malaise which has beset me.
Robin Williams' death still saddens me deeply.
I'm tired of writing loans to myself and rocketing my debt higher and higher. I had really banked on getting a full-time teaching position this fall. I did not, and I do not believe I will ever be allowed to do so. After all, it is well known that the department head wants that chemistry series to be gone. Maybe that has changed since he has been teaching the class this past year. I doubt I will ever know.
I've been put into a position of leadership for the Light The Night team for the College of Science and Technology. I had named the team four years ago and my friend decided that was reason enough to put me in charge. I cannot even muster enough support to get a job in that college. How on Earth can I convince them to donate to this cause?
The ever-huggable Hai has unfriended me on fb... and didn't even bother to let me know he was doing so. He has not yet responded to my new request for friendship on that site.
These highs in the 90's are making me hot and sweaty all the time. No escape in my hot little house with no air conditioning.
My ex may have damaged his pancreas with his alcohol use. People think just the liver can be affected, but it's the pancreas that has to deal with regulation of sufficient insulin to handle that influx of liquid sugar.
My middle brother continues to live in the woods, starting each day with a '40' and ending it that same way. He complains about the heat, too. I am concerned about him, but he refuses to get treatment. He refuses to even consider it.
My house is a mess. At least I finally washed dishes last night.
My life is a mess. That's probably why my house reflects that.
My deck is rotting. I have become afraid to go into my back yard through my back door, for fear my foot will fall through another rotten board. I had thought my older brother might help with that repair, but not so far.
I miss the oak tree that was outside my bedroom window.
I regret that so much that was important to me in my younger years is now lost. In particular, I would have liked to see the naval stations I served at one more time before they were torn down. Instead, I found out about their demise too late to have been able to do so.
My weight loss program is going nowhere. I need a sponsor, someone who will hold me accountable. Actually, I need someone who will cook and grocery shop for me, so I will only have healthy, filling meals.
My last boyfriend has a new live-in girlfriend. Harry contacted me just days ago to thank me for an email I had sent about his fb account. It's not that I regret pushing him away three years ago - I don't - but it's sad that door is closed. Maybe we can actually be friends now.
My youngest brother is still in prison and will be there for some undetermined future amount of time. It's difficult to determine what to do with him when he is released until we know when that will be.
My boys of summer lost their bid at being champions two years in a row. A bad call at home plate is to blame, but that doesn't help them. They played well, but lost because of someone's bad decision. That is sad. I almost cried when the fans stood, turned toward their dugout, and cheered for the good baseball the team had given us.
My youngest brother's grandkids did not even once go to the baseball games. I had bought their memberships in the Gnats' kid club, which would have magically granted them access into all seventy games this season. Their mom would not ever agree to meet with me. Very sad for the kids to be have been deprived of this summer entertainment and for me to have been deprived of their company.
My stepmom is far too busy for us to have our time together. I miss her and our grown-girl talks.
I seem to be crying more than usual lately. I think I am spending too much time alone. I know I definitely need cuddling, but that is not forthcoming. I am very tired of that lack in my life.
I haven't seen my "little sister" and her kids in at least three years. I had hoped to meet up with them midway-ish this summer, but they did not travel out of California after all. My little sister was supposed to have come to Savannah last month, but I heard nothing from her.
My BFF is finally separated from her emotionally abusive husband. She wants divorce, he is refusing. The emotional abuse continues, in the form of his seduction of women he wishes she was. I think that is the most cruel move of all.
I don't even know who to talk to about these things. I hate to rain pain on anyone else. I'm hoping that throwing this out there from my beach will turn this grief into lagan.
My first niece is so inundated with family issues that I cannot even seem to hold a conversation with her. I actually stopped a topic in mid-discussion while she handled a phone call and she didn't even pick up the trail afterward.
I had the same issue arise with my BFF this past weekend.
In general, I don't seem to hold anyone's attention for long enough for them to hear ME.
Tomorrow makes a year since the death of my stepbrother George.

I keep taking on too much responsibility for other people's happiness.
I need to stop being such a control freak.
I need a hug that lasts until I stop it.

Bitch, bitch, moan, and complain.

death of an oak

Here, I pay homage to the oak destroyed on July 15 and 16 of this year.
Even though I am the one responsible for its loss to my world, I am gladdened to know I have these photographs to document its existence.

Day 1, Tuesday, July 15: work begins.

Day 2, Wednesday, July 16: continuation and culmination.

panegyric for an oak

Planted
by a forgetful squirrel
before the house changed hands in 2001,
the acorn
from across the street
grew into a small tree between the two houses. Although trimmed repeatedly
(by yours truly) over the ensuant years, the tree continued to grow, eventually attaining a height which would have required the use of a ladder to keep its boughs in check.
Notice that use of the phrase "would have".
The tree, no longer beset by pruning tools, flourished.
Oddly, no birds claimed it as home. Ever.
The mockingbirds preferred the shelter of the nearby azaleas, cloaked by blackberry brambles and thorny vines.
The neighbor in the house on the other side of the tree began complaining about two years ago. He claimed the upper branches were having a deleterious effect on his roof. I reminded him that I would have been able to afford to have the tree trimmed when he had the tree cutters eliminating the pines in his back yard, about five years earlier. He did not recall.
Every few months, a card from a tree surgeon would be left on my door.
Time passed.
The tree continued to loft its weighty limbs into the air, reaching its fingertips toward the sun, the moon, the stars. Its leaves caught each passing breeze, rustling and singing.
Its roots continued to spread, taking shelter under the houses of myself and my neighbor. Eventually, that would be a serious problem, I knew. The roots of an oak reach out as far as do its limbs. The overlap of the branches atop the two roofs were evidence of the roots' encroachment upon those foundations.
Action would eventually be necessary. I knew that, but kept granting clemency to the oak.
After two of my neighbors called the city about my back yard, I decided it was time for action against the tree.
Time for the mighty oak to be felled.
"Mighty" was hardly the correct description. The tree was still so young! It should have had a couple of hundred years of time ahead of it.
Instead, the tree surgeon of my choice was called, a man recommended by my dear artist friend.
On the afternoon of Tuesday, July 15, 2014, Ervin came. After we agreed on the cost of ending the tree's life, work began.
Immediately.
I may have expected more time for me to accept the concept of killing the oak. At least I was aware that this was most likely the only time I would deliberately have a living tree destroyed.
I documented the act with photographs.
The tree surgeon was surprised, but did not discourage me.
He has a deep respect for these trees he fells.
I like to think he knew I had a deep respect for this oak.
I like to think I did, too.
I miss the sight and the sounds of it.
I don't think I realized what a loss I would feel.
I certainly did not realize what impact that loss would have on me.
Now, every morning, I am reminded that the oak is gone. The rising sunbeams, no longer blocked, beat against my bedroom window, seeking admittance, bidding me awaken at a ridiculously early time.
Now, all day long, the sun sends its heated rays toward that window, increasing the temperature in my already hot, un-air-conditioned, little house.
Now, every day, I am reminded of my death sentence on the oak.
Sigh.
Loss adjustment is still ongoing.
Perhaps, as the days cool and the nights lengthen, I will welcome the additional sunlight.
For now, the loss is still fresh and I am daily reminded: I had a living tree destroyed.
I don't know if Joyce Kilmer would have approved, but I have to believe he would have understood.
And none of that logic makes it any less sad.

elephant cages

Early this morning, just after midnight, I was catching up on fb before wandering off to bed.
My little sister's wife sent me the following story:
Navy's mysterious 'elephant cage' retired
Say what???
I spent 15 months of my life there, from December 1982 to March 1984.
I was 24 years old.
That was my last duty station as a Cryptologic Technician, Maintenance, for the United State Navy. My time in San Diego was memorable, from the all-day concerts in open-air stadiums to the drives along the magnificent coast and points all around.
Then there were the trips I made!
Out to Barstow to see my high school friend Josie and her family, then onward for my first view of Las Vegas, sparkling like jewels on black velvet on the night-time road.
Up to Los Angeles to visit Arturo Koenig and George Cherry, fellows I knew in my Okinawa days.
Another trip in that direction, to Anaheim, to visit the family of Jeff Petrell, a friend stationed with me in Panama.
Then, for Christmas of 1983, up to San Francisco, to see my best friend Lizz, my jarhead of Okinawa (I was her squid!)
of course, I also drove across the border to Tijuana, just about ten miles away from where I lived in Imperial Beach, which was in easy walking distance from the station.
You see, NSGA San Diego was physically located in Imperial Beach, just ot the south of town. Until the early 1970's, it was known as NSGA Imperial Beach and many around there still called it that when I was there.
Apparently, it last saw sailors in September of 1999.
On July 27, 2005, it was disestablished.
What a word: disestablished.
Stripped of its official status as an integral part of the US Navy.
Rather similar to a marriage being annulled, isn't it?
Now, the Wullenweber antenna array, a structure the size of two football fields, is to be dismantled, to be disappeared from the spot on which it has stood since 1965.
I sat right here in this chair and sobbed.
Disappeared???
Part of my history whisked away into nothingness???
That can't be right... can it? We're talking about a military station, for crying out loud! No more sailors working there night and day to help locate folks lost at sea or people trafficking in drugs or humans? No more?
Apparently.
The site has been known as the Silver Strand Training Complex ever since its dismissal from the military. Odd, I don't recall seeing that name on it when Cyndi drove me by it in 2008, on my February visit to San Diego. I was too busy drinking in the sights, overall, for such a detail.
It was originally scheduled to be removed in 2007.
Perhaps it had been left there for me to visit, one more time.
Now, it's stay of demolition has been lifted. Funds have been found and it will be deconstructed this very month.
The 390-foot diameter, circularly disposed antenna array will be removed. The two-story, windowless, concrete block building at its heart will vanish, to beat no more.
I sat here and sobbed, wiping my eyes as I read its obituary.
Then a thought struck - what about the other duty stations of my youth? Were they safe from demolition? Surely...they were in other countries, on foreign soil and in locations not as hungry for beachfront land as California is.
A few simple searches with goodsearch confirmed my fears. The obituaries were right in front of me.
Naval Security Group Activity Galeta Island, Panama: closed in March, 1995. Disestablished a scant three months later. Given to Panama on New Year's Eve, 1999.

Now, reduced to rubble.
This was taken in April, 2008, by Dave Peck on his visit there.
From military outpost with
US Marines on the roof
to rotting tourist site
in a mangrove swamp.
For all I know,
the structures are
completely gone.
I sat and sobbed.
NSGA Galeta Island was my first duty station. I was 19 years old and newly wed.
I was the first woman to be stationed there. The one bathroom had a sign to be switched from "Men" to "Women" to "Open". Funny what memories come to mind!
My first husband and I spent our honeymoon driving there, starting in Pensacola, Florida, then to Laredo, Texas, and the US-Mexico border. We spent some time in Mexico, dodging vehicle collisions in the massive roundabouts, climbing the Pyramid of the Moon in Teotihuacan, listening to the mariachi bands on the gondolas of Xochimilco's Floating Gardens, admiring the beauty of the cathedral in Oaxaca.
Then, onward along the Pan-American Highway to Panama, paying exit fees and entrance fees all along the way. We were living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the last few days of our trip! We arrived in April of 1978 and were there until April of 1980.
My last dog was a Panamanian version of Heinz 57, with German Shepard being dominant. Toffee was aptly named. She was a sweet, smart, girl with heavy mascara all around her eyes and dark hairs scattershot throughout her coat. She came with us when we left Panama, spending her month in quarantine in Miami before joining us in Savannah.
Coco Solo was home while down in Central America. Disco dancing, shag, square dancing! Movies on reels to watch as often as we wanted, over in the Officers' Quarters! Shopping and festivals in Colon! Exploring the thorn trees on Fort Davis! Riding the train to the PX at Rodman Air Base on the Pacific Ocean side! Hopping a ride on new Navy and Marine vessels as they traveled through the locks of the Panama Canal! Sunbathing at the secluded Playa Diablo!
No more.
Coco Solo, the smaller towns, even the Army base at Fort Gulick - all swallowed up by the now-city of Colón. I wonder if the restaurant where I first dined on ceviche and dorado is still there?
Early this morning, I was not consciously thinking of any of these memories. I was in shock at my loss.
Tears coursed down my cheeks as I viewed the list of stations I knew.
Groton? London? Naples?
Closed, closed, closed.
What about NSGA Hanza, in Okinawa?
Closed. The last sailors had left by June of 1998. The antenna array and ops building were demolished in June, 2007.
Nothing to mark its place now.
Gone.
I wept in a daze, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands.
March of 1981 to December of 1982, my room was on the third floor at Torii Station, facing the ocean. I rode a bus to go up the hill to the "elephant cage" for my 2-2-2-80 shiftwork. I rode the Okinawan buses in to Kadena, Naha, Nago, for dining and shopping and barhopping with the guys.
I took USO-organized trips to Hong Kong and Kowloon province China, to Taipei, Taiwan, to mainland Japan. I took an overnight ride on an Asian passenger ship from Taiwan back to Okinawa, being treated to a night sky with more stars than I could have ever dreamt possible.
My first experiences with theatre were in Okinawa. Army Community Theatre On (the) Rock, aka ACTOR, was a source of civilian sanity and socializing in the heart of Torii Station. Janet Leary and Mark Engler taught us all to have fun while entertaining others. I am especially fond of our production of "Bell, Book, and Candle", in May, 1982. No, I wasn't part of that one. I saw it after successfully lobbying the Navy to grant me a tubal ligation. The abdominal surgery left me unable to laugh without wincing, so I had to clap instead!
Such memories of good times...
... at a place now gone.
Even Torii Station has changed, offering recreational activities and beachside entertainment. I remember not being able to go on the beach because of the mines still buried in the sand.
This morning, I wept until I was exhausted and my eyes were nearly swollen shut.
In need of diversion before bed, I looked to the television world.
I caught the last 15 or 20 minutes of the last episode of "Friends". In the final moments of the show, they are leaving the apartment for the very last time, placing their keys on the kitchen counter.
I couldn't have asked for anything better, something to alter my perspective in a positive way.
Change is part of life.
Coincidence? More like my Grandmama looking after me.
By the closing credits of the show, I was calm once more.
The time was 3 AM.
"Futurama" was coming on.
Time to relax with an Outshine lime popsicle and those folks of the future.
Then I was off to bed, for sure, and peaceful dreams.
And today has been a new day.

mas photos de Dragon*Con 28

Ariel the mermaid
(odd how similar
the name is
to that of
yesterday's cosplay
- coincidence?),
replete in sail dress
and new legs,
takes a moment to visit
the octopus
astride this
steampunk Victorian vehicle.
Sebastian is not amused by the lack of attention to him.
After finding the octopus
to be no one she knew,
Ariel moved on.

Oceanic
Steampunk
Adventures?
A Norwegian troll hunter?
Finding (Captain) Nemo?
Mermaids trapped by Robots in Atlantis?
Craziness, for sure...
but my kind of crazy!

Dr. Horrible, his Freeze Ray in hand!
Dr. Horrible, after acceptance into the Evil League of Evil!
And even an aging, post-defeat, Hammer!!!
The best part of the Whedon Universe costume contest?
Right here with me, dear,
right here with me!!!
The first Dr, Horrible even gave me his container of Wonderflonium!!!
He must know I'm a chemist, not a fairy princess.
Wow, he is good!!!

And what would a
Whedon Universe
costume contest be
without characters from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer"?
Not much, that's what!
Spike, on the left, is the one I want.
Come on over and bite me sometime, big boy...

And how about bringing
Captain America
and Thor
with you?
No need for them to remain
in S.H.I.E.L.D.,
missing the fun.
They can even
keep their boots on... rawr!

Settle down now, girlie!
That's not how those Canada pop stars do things!
Robin Sparkles reminds me
that girl fun can be had in more mundane ways!
"Let's Go To THE MALL!"
(smile!)

Oh, Minion!

My Minion!

How wonderful to see you here!

But however did you grow so tall?

Perhaps that is for the best.

The better to be seen,
my dear,
the better to be seen!

Then,
off I'm
whisked
on a flight of fancy
with Hiccup
and my
very most favorite
Night Fury dragon
ever,
Toothless!
What a glorious ride!

And, at the end of my day, to be greeted by Odd Lotters from home - what a sweet surprise!
My continued greetings, and hugs, to Thomas, Chris, and John - see your zany improv some Monday night, y'all!

highlights of dragon*con 28

I wish I had seen such a lovely beast while there!
True, quite a few of the lovelies in the Art Show certainly caught my gaze, but none imprinted upon me.
So, there they stayed.
This photo?
I took it outside StarCastle right here in town, while attending Samuel's 10th birthday party.

Here we are,
fresh and shiny,
first thing in the morning
at the MARTA train station!
The BFF, her bellydancin' pal, the daughter, and yours truly!

High point!!!
There the girl-child
and I were,
just wandering through
yet another crowd
of costumed folk...
and there HE was!!!

BEAKER!!!

Of course I asked to have my photo taken with him!
Fairy princess dress,
braids,
kickstarter-backed dustbunny,
and all!

Oh my! Gee golly! W O W!!!
It's Groot!!!
The little dancing Groot, coming back to life as only he can!
We were in the Walk of Fame and literally turned a corner to see him as he waltzed in.
Of course I took a photo...
even though it was clearly posted to not do so...
but I did anyway!

I'm an outlaw!!!
Just like Groot.
(smile)
So is Aela,
huntress of Skyrim,
my gallant companion
on this quest for dragons.
No dragons today, but treasure:
birthday greetings and love
from Billy Boyd!
A most successful quest, I say!

would have been better seven miles ago

By the time I looked at my odometer, I'd missed the opportunity.
The mileage reading of 153351 was lost.
So, I did the next best thing. I took the photograph anyway, to acknowledge my error in timing.
That's important. Acknowledgement of missed chances, mistakes along the way, errors in judgement.
Like other animals, we humans learn more from our mistakes than we do from our successes.
Actually, that may not be quite correct as stated. I believe we learn as much from each, but the mistakes usually have a negative impact that leaves a lasting impression.
Anything that makes us say "OUCH!" will certainly be recalled in future situations which are similar, if not identical.
Definitely true.
But what about those occurrences in which we say "WOOHOO!"? Do those generate the same lasting impression, encouraging us to repeat that action if granted the chance to do so?
I would hope so.
But here is the problem with that. Many times, I have found the "WOOHOO!" is partly dependent on the company I am keeping. Consider the following examples.
Being in the presence of Minions in Las Vegas, by myself, was a different enjoyable experience from that I had yesterday at Dragon*Con with my BFF's darling daughter. In the first instance, I was able to completely enjoy the moment, in the company of several other lovers of the oblong yellow guys! But, the girl-child did not really know the movie of their origin and my glee was somewhat diminished by her lack of same.
Dragon*Con, itself, was a wildly different experience this year. The first one I attended, in 2008, in the company of Sam Johnson and the BFF's two children, was a bit of a marvel, as I had never been to a costumed convention before. Sam had lined up some events to attend, I had some I wanted to attend, and the kids just wanted to look at everyone. I missed all of the events concerning "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" and Joss Whedon's world. I really did enjoy the talk with Mickey Dolenz (of The Monkee's) and even the missed talk with Adam West (of tv's "Batman" series; he opted to be in the Autograph Hall instead). All in all, it was pleasurable, but I would have preferred not being the Adult In Charge. (No, Sam most definitely did not count as an adult.)
2009's Dragon*Con was a bitter-sweet experience. Sam had died, but the kids wanted to go again. The BFF and her husband and I went along, too. Mostly, we just wandered around, looking at costumed characters, taking photos. I did have a fabulous encounter with Alan Ruck, prior to a panel talk with him and several other actors who were special characters in the "Star Trek" universe. I also very much enjoyed the hands-on experience with making towel creature art. Definitely fun! But the rest is a bit of a blur.
This year, it was the 28th Annual Dragon*Con. I was absolutely unprepared... and so was the girl-child. I was not even sure that we were going until just a few days beforehand. So, I had no time to check out the schedule, line up some events not to be missed, confer with her on the timetables. I had seen that James Gunn would be there and knew I did not want to miss seeing him. She had no interest, as she had not yet (and still has not) seen "Guardians of the Galaxy".
There were several musical acts I would have enjoyed, as well as blocks of short films. She was really not that interested.
You see, she is a 17-almost-18-year-old girl.
She had spent all of her Dragon*Con preparation time devising the costumes she would wear each of the two days we attended. She was going there to be seen. Period.
After all, she is a 17-almost-18-year-old girl.
A very lovely one, at that, in the typical way.
She is smart, too, but you don't get accolades and adoration from the general public for being smart.
She was there for the glory of recognition of her costumes.
Sitting in panel discussions was not for her. Hardly anyone would praise her cosplay efforts if she were simply part of a crowd, with everyone's attention on the featured guests at the front of the room.
We did both enjoy the Art Show, as we had in 2008. Very little of the artwork for sale was in our budgets this time around, but the visuals and creativity were amazing!
We also enjoyed browsing in the Comic and Pop Artist Alley. No, we were not familiar with any of the artists there, but two kickstarter-backed success stories were there and I enjoyed talking with them.
We spent time both days in those two venues, as well as in the Walk of Fame. She even spent $50 of birthday money on an autograph from her beloved Billy Boyd. Bless him, he even wrote "Happy Birthday" on the glamor shot he signed for her! She was ecstatic!!! I would have liked to wait for James Gunn and his brother to return, but the lines were incredible.
Many times, the lines were ridiculously long. People would get in line more than an hour before an event! Not us.
That we had in common. We did stand in line for Billy Boyd's autograph. Rather, I held her place while she tried to get a couple of others to grant free signatures. (No such luck.) We were fortunate that most events we attended did not have lines of more than thirty or so.
In the end, I think we would both agree that the first day, although erratic, was our favorite, but for different reasons. For her, the cosplay she had chosen that day(the huntress from Skyrim) drew a lot of admiring comments and many requests from adult males for her photo. Success! For me, the day was a favorite because I saw two blocks of short films as well as the panel discussion featuring James and Sean Gunn. Fabulous!
The trip on Sunday was good, but not quite as rewarding for her. Her Ariel in a sail dress cosplay was cute, but in a little-girl way. She mostly was noticed by girls and young women with little children, what notice she did receive. Me? I had charted our course in the Westin to keep us inside and entertained throughout the heat of the day. I enjoyed the ride, but she was clearly needing the attention of others. That put a bit of a damper on my fun, but I tried to sail right past that hurdle, mostly.
(smile)
Will I go again next year?
No, I don't think so.
Unless Alan Ruck will be there.
Maybe he will even remember meeting the girl named Faustina at the head of the stairs and holding her hand.