harold_maude's journal

Baby kitties and fuzzy ducks

# 38543

There are three baby kitties asleep on the bed right now.
There is Little Annie, the runt who has the guts and courage of a lion. She is so named for Annie Okaklee, a gustys young woman who was with Wild Bill Hicocks wild west show.

There is The Letter M, that's her name, a very fluffy grey little girl who is content to be as close as she can to the person holding her while she purrs with all her heart.

And then there is the other little girl, we haven't found her name yet. She is black with silver on her feet, and seems happy just to be in a safe place.

They are all so quiet. Except when the meow now and then. When they see us they meow very excitedly and wobble and occasionally tumble over their own feet as they make their way to say hello.

Now and again they squeek too. I wish we had baby ducks here too.
It would be soo cool to get some duck eggs and hatch them.
They would imprint and then for the rest of their lives we would get to enjoy the company of ducks.
From the fuzzy little footed wandering quackers to old friends who you can share a tuna fish sandwhich with now and again.
What a thought.
I can hear it now...a conversation that would go something like this:
"so what did you have for dinner?"
"we had hotdogs"
"we had ducks for dinner and we all ate tuna fish sandwhiches"
"you ate the ducks? And then the tuna?"
"no, the ducks ate with us, and we all had tuna"
"you eat with ducks?"
"yep. Great company and they are really good at keeping the flies down here."

Gas prices going through the roof....

?% | 1

# 38505

This afternoon as I was out and about I saw it. The numbers, 2.89.
It's not done, and what happens next is pretty sure.
The cost of food will go up due to the cost of gas so that the trucks that trasport it will still be able to do so.
The businesses that rely on people being able to afford to drive there will suffer.
And one by one, the dominos have begun to fall.
The space between the rich and the poor grows wider.

I heard from one of the neighbors this morning that the gas station up the way had 12 drive offs.

It has begun. Unless there is a repealing of the gas tax or a ceiling put on how high the price can go, they've done it in Hawaii, we are headed for a fincial crash.

Without those two things, there is no time to adjust, refigure things, and go on.
Next will be the people who are barely making enough to take care of the bills and buy food. They will either have to take a second or third job to make ends meet, (one of the jobs will be just to pay for gas to get to all three) or they will have to quit their jobs, and subsequently face being homeless...

There are several people I know who are thrilled at the concept of everything crashing and this mess we've made finally staring at us in the face and there is nothing to do but simplify how we live.
All of it makes me want to get rid of my car, get a quad bike and go slower.
Makes me want to find a place out in the boondox and grow my own food and learn how to hunt with a bow and arrow and simplify everything around me.
Makes me want to escape from the city...completely.

I know it's comming. And depending on what happens over the next few months, what is possible will show it's self.

..funny thing is, I used to spend hours dreaming about being out in the middle of nowhere and living off the land and seeing if I could survive.
Seems that I may end up seeing that dream become the reality not only for me, but many other people.

It's very, very close now. This may sound strange, but in a way I tend to look at katrina as mother nature showing us who really is in charge here.
The question is are we listening?


?% | 1

# 38490

Last night after I clocked out and was taking a bag of garbage to the dumpster, I noticed the manager was walking to keep up with me, and proceeded to tell me what I already knew was comming.
I knew on saturday when the feeling like I was sofocating hit me and stayed pretty much through my entire shift.

He told me that because business had been so slow in the evening that I was being cut.
I could see the writing on the wall weeks ago. After the owner helped his sons open this monstrosity and basicly signed the death warrent on his business.
Since the new store opened the place where I work has become a store house for the new store, and a place where massive prep work eats up time like a monster that is never satisfied.

Anyway, so I say to the manager "so is this my last night?"
This guy then says to me that I can finish the week out.
(the dog begging treatment here)
So I tell him, no I just won't come in anymore. And then he says well if we have any openings...and I reply no.

I'm pissed at the owner because he's told me so many times that I'm like the sister he never had, and that I'm family, and all this other bulshit, and doesn't have the respect or deciency to pull me aside before I started my shift, or even last night when I went to pick up the other half of me from the new store to talk to me then.
He tells the person I'm picking up that I won't have to come in on monday, that the day crew will handle things.
I was insulted.
The other reason I'm pissed off is this man, the owner is selling out for money.
He's got a wonderful reputation as making great food, and he's throwing it down the toilet for money.
That is so fucked.

It's funny, but I happen to believe that when a person does a job that it's important to do the very best you can.
It's a standard of integrety, and honor that no amount of money is worth.
If it was about the money for me I would never have taken the job in the first place.
It was about stepping into a new arena of learning, and doing something worth doing.
And this fucker, who is an artist in the kitchen is selling out.
The quality of the food used to be the best, now it's this crap that is only fit as dog or cat food.

When I go to pick up my check, if the owner is there, I will polietly tell him that I'm pissed at him because he made a big deal when he hired me that what he wanted from me was loyalty and honesty.
And I gave him that. I was never late. I went beyond the call of duty. I never wasted time by just standing around.
I got shit done.
And I did my best at everything I put my hands to.
And what does he do? He treats me like a dog and has his manager tell me.
No respect, no honor, no honesty.
He has completely lost his creditiblity with me.
Not that it will change anything in what he's doing. He's headed this wonderful little mom and pop store straight down the toilet, and that's a disgrace.
In this world where more and more everything from products to people are seen as disposable, to take something of real value and distroy it for the sake of money is disgusting and indecient.

A door is closed now. Another will open. There is work to be done.
Not the kind that ends up in a paycheck, but the kind of work that my life is about.
And if I don't do what it is that I was created to do, then my life will be a misery, and I'll have alot to answer for at the end of all things, and since I don't want to have to explain why I didn't do what my life was ment for in favor of doing things that don't matter and are trivial and pointless simply so I could surround myself with useless crap, I will move on to the next door, and when it closes I will move on again.
It's the way things are in my life.

Trying to explain this to people who only see so far is hard.
They don't understand why I see things the way I do.
And they are baffeled by this: I'm an excellent worker. What ever I put my hands to is always the best that I have to give.
And the jobs that I keep ending up in never last very long.

From the currant view of the world it makes no sense.
But that's not how all of this is ment to be viewed.
Each person has work to do. Their life means somthing in the great scheme of things.
The things they are ment to do are specificly their's to do.
They are given tools and equiped for the work ahead in life.
It makes up part of the natural flow of their life.

Problems arise when the flow isn't reconized or is ignored in favor of doing things that are momentary and pointless.
There is a bordom that exists and a disatisfaction that gnaws inside many people because they have no clue as to who they are and why they are here....the two biggest questions that come up and cause midlife crisis' to happen.
Is this all there is? What have I done with my life? Who the hell am I? What is the meaning of life? If I leave my life as it is now maybe it will be better...on and on and on.
When the answer is so simple....know who you are...learn why you are here.
Quiet and still yourself and find out.
And the idea of bordom will fade away. Because when you are doing what it is that you are ment to do, bordom has no place in your world.
It can't exist in a place with purpose.
It can't thrive in a place where everything has meaning.

I'm glad I know who I am. I'm glad I know my purpose. It dosen't make my frustration with the world less, and it dosen't make me grieve over stupid things people do any less deep.
But things will keep going on the way they have been for many many people and they will have mountians of regret at the end of their lives, and wonder why they couldn't see it before.

In reality I haven't lost anything of real value. All I lost with this was a paycheck. And that isn't anything to grieve over.
It's simply one door closing because another one is waiting to open. And that's the way it should be.
Time for change.

This post was edited by harold_maude on Aug 31, 2005.

The nature of time

92% | 3

# 38465

Last night while star gazing, which is fast becomming the evening event around here, with a cd on time travel playing on, the idea of what exactly time is wandered into my head.

The professor who explained the theory of realativity so that even someone who struggles with the mathematics side of things could understand what he was saying.
As he talked about how time is not clocks, but an actual complete different thing itself, it made me wonder about time.

The best explaination was that time was simply a measurment.
And that time was not the same for everyone.
Which explains why when two people experience the same event their perceptions of the event are measured differently.

Kind of an interesting thing, time is. How it can seem to bend and wobble in different situations.

He talked about time in light years. Which is, how long it takes light to travel in one year.
And he talked about something else, which I can't remember exactly what it's called, but what it does is the closer you get to the speed of light time changes.
If you took a star trip to the nearest star and it was 10 light years away and then came back the people you left behind would be older than you because of something that occurs while your moving at or near light speed.

Pretty cool thought. But kind of weird too, to think that if you did take a star trip when you got back all the people you knew would be older than you.
The only thing a person can't do with time is go backwards.

Which is something that would be interesting to do. See the great prymids being built, and really find out what happened to Jimmy Hoffa...
Actually, if you could go back and meet up with yourself when you were 10 and then five years later, what would you be able to tell yourself or convince yourself of?

So many things, and so much information which would make no sense at all to your younger self, and there would also be the matter of how well you were able to trust what someone said back then.

If I had that chance I'm not sure I would believe the older me, and if I did and changed somethings based on what the me this age said, would I even exist as I am now?

It's amazing to think about. When you look at stars you are looking at how they were so many years ago. The currant condition of the stars you won't be able to see until the light being emitted from that same star gets here.
And depending on how many light years away that star is, you and me will probably not be around to see what it really looks like right now.
Tends to mess with perception thinking about this stuff.
But that's a good thing actually...causes the brain to breath and expand.
Bigger brain activity means more thoughts...which means that maybe when your not thinking about it, this random brilliant thought may come crashing into your head and suddenly you understand the big bang and be able to explain what scientists haven't been able to figure out yet.

I think because time runs along the same lines as energy, measureable by the after effects, that doors and windows of perfect knowledge and wisdom are completely accessable to us.
Just going one way though, comming in.
I don't know how possible it is for the human mind in the state it exists in now could send out thought with percision accuracy and hit the right brain of someone who has the ablity to do something that you might not be able to do.
Like a world leader or a scientist.
I think that it's possible to send out thoughts, but I think it still goes out there and randomly strikes people as it's going to it's destination.
I think it would take alot of focus and meditation to do the pinpoint thing, and then a person would have to be able to document the event, so that it would be taken seriously.

Other things to note today: watched the news about katrina last night.
I didn't have any family down that way, and although my heart goes out to those that did, I noticed something that was said about this storm, and that was more like it were comming due to global warmming, and the temprature of the ocean rising.
Makes me wonder how many people will actually do something with that knowledge, or if things will go along as they have.
They say that gas prices with in a very short time will hit between 2.75 a gallon and 3.00 a gallon.
Finally, finally, that man in the white house is maybe going to release some of the reserves we have here in this country.
Makes me wonder when he was planning on it before the hurricane hit.
Makes me wonder alot about that man, and tells me that how I feel about what he's done and is doing wasn't just me, but my assesment of his failings as a man who cares about the people of this country were right on the money.
He is after all, first and formost a texas oil man, who comes from old money, and dosen't have the slightest clue as to how it feels to fight just to make ends meet.

Would love to see him have to do what millions of the below poverty level americans have to do every day just to eat.
Maybe that would make a difference in things...

Sometimes it takes loosing everything to see what is really important and make a person wake up.

Quality v.s. Quanity

85% | 9

# 38431

I'm standing in front of a make line table making a pizza.
The ingredients are listed in the "recipie" that hangs about eye level.
I go through the motions, trying to make something that will be apatizing to look at and eat as well.
I try to go as fast as I can, there are other orders waiting...the owner walks in and gets upset because I'm putting to much on the pizza of each topping.
The end result, a pizza I wouldn't pay for much less eat.

It's ten a.m. There is a mad rush to get things out to the buffet. The food list is the same every day. This is about the third or fourth buffet I've been a part of.
The pizza reminds me of the cheap frozen kind, the ones that grocery stores sell 10 for 10.00.
A buck a pizza.
Not worth the money. Cheap ingredients. Cheap food.
And that's what I'm helping to put out there...a hog trough.
Hog food.

But it's a job.

I walk through the doors of the massive store. Stuff everywhere. Rows and rows of packaged things, put together in factories, many of them overseas. Cheap and fast. And the people who put them together are making next to nothing.
But the people who own the companies are making money.
The big over sized circus store where people crowd in like hogs or cattle being herded into shoots ready for slaughter.

It makes me sick. I see the plastic smiles on the workers face.
But it's a job.

I walk into the doors of the mall. A place I try to avoid at all costs.
Insanity rules here. They worship the god of green here. And girls hardly old enough to be out of the playing with dolls stage are dressed in clothes more suited to a night club than shopping are everywhere.
The shops with the latest fashions are filled with children acting out the fantasies of wanting to look like the currant hot stars out there.
And you look at their faces and wonder how long they spent in front of a mirror putting on make-up.
I wonder what some of them look like with out it.

The cashiers behind the counters don't make enough money to do little more than very little.
But it's a job.

Somewhere in all of this madness we call economy quanity became more important than quality.
There is much to be said for quality, and the lasting effect it has on people.
But it seems that quality is becomming more reserved for the very rich.
And the rest of the population are given the hog trough treatment.

It's sick.

It reminds me so much of the few starving artists sales that I have happened upon.
Lots of cheap crap. Stuff to throw on a wall and when your bored you just sell it at your next yard sale.
Where did the notion that anything worth doing was worth doing well go?
What happened to the idea that it was a good thing to take pride in what you created?
Have we fallen so far down in a money pit that all that matters is that as long as people buy it, it's ok to keep doing it?

It's like a sick bad dream.
I want to wake up and find that people care about what they do.
I want to wake up and go to my job and make beautiful food that people can remember after they leave.
It feels good to do something that makes another person smile.
It feels great to see something come out of the oven that tells me I did my best.
When it's missing, it's hard to see any value in going to a job that for me isn't about money.
If it was about the money, I would have left when I was told how much I would make per hour.
It's a little business and it's becomming this thing that resembles what I hate about the mall and all the super maga stores that are like gaping wounds that ooze smelly puss making everything it supports just as sick and just as pointless.

But it's only a job...right? So why should I care? Why do I care?
Because if I stop caring about what I'm putting my hands to, then I'm just like the corporate monsters that have sold their souls to the god of the green...
and I want to be able to keep looking at myself in the mirror and not have to deal with being ashamed because I had a hand in treating people like hogs when I finish my shift at work.

In the memory of...

# 38332

Death came today. As silent as death is, and we the people who remain, feel the sting as it swells and our hearts shatter with in our breast....

Someone who is part of my chosen family lost their father today.
It brought back so much memory filled time...
What I wanted. What I got.

The person was close to their father, and all they can do is feel pain right now...
I wanted to know my father that well, but the truth is, I didn't.

I asked this person if I could give them a hug, wanting to respect their wishes in all of this, and they said that would be okay.
They felt numb, and cold. Death was beating them up tonight.
Death will keep doing that for a long while I suspect....

kind of like smashing your face into a fan that is running on high speed...it leaves you bloody and takes away the protection of your skin...death leaves you with a hole blown inside you and rips away part of you completely, or at the very least, leaves the skin of your heart and soul hanging there, limp and bleeding, helpless to escape, when all you want to do is have that person back...now.

I wish I had felt that way when my father died. Instead, I felt weird. Detached. Like a dream walking around in a shadowed world where time was like a moving savlidor Dali painting that wouldn't shut up.
And there was the anger...the over powering visions of red...I hated my father for not sharing the best of who he was with me, or anyone else in my family for that matter..
I'm sure he loved us, in the only way he knew how, but that doesn't change the pain or make the anger any less valid.

I was angry because he went away. In life he made me believe that if I could just find the one thing that would make him proud that I was his daughter, then I would finally hear him tell me...
I found out three weeks before his death that I had spent my life waiting for nothing.
He believed that all children had to earn their parents respect.
Earn it...

Roughly translated: If you do what I want then I will respect you...

The only time he ever said that he loved me that I knew was real and not just something said without thought was after he died...about 15 minuets...I felt him put his hand on my shoulder and wisper "I love you honey"....it was real because people who are dead won't lie to you...there is no reason to anymore...nothing to gain.

I was angry for alotta years at him....

The person who lost their father will ache for a long long time.
Their heart will hurt for want of spending time just talking.
Just wanting a little more time to just talk...

It's been a long hard day...all the way around.

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