Facebook is not helping either. I now have multiple ex-girlfriends as friends on there, and the photos of their children break my heart. Well, one in particular. My first love. We still Email from time to time, but I dare never mention feelings. Interstingly, I made amends to her during that whole Cult fiasco many years ago. Yet, no mention was ever made of the fact that it was she who betrayed me, lied to me, and harmed me. I bite my tongue on these things. They appear only here. And, such is the making of depressed mood. So be it. Martyrdom is what I do best. I deserve it. I am unloveable.

How righteously indignant I can be. What arrogance to think that I might be of some value to a woman; my love a merit to be achieved. Myself, a prize? A darstardly cognition of the evil, diseased self. I tighten the screws, and bleed from the temples. I fight with this, here, now. My unexpressed, shameful anger at those who have wronged me. I do not blame them entirely. I never have. I tend to blame myself most. Yet, it grows in me--this feeling of retribution or drive for validation. I matter, damnit. My feelings matter. They have value even if only as opinion.

John Carmack, na conferência da EA, revelou que Rage, jogo que sofria ameaças de ficar pior no Xbox 360 em termos gráficos, não ficará mais. Ambas versões serão idênticas. Não sabemos se a Microsoft deixou a id colocar 3 DVDs sem taxas ou a qualidade da versão do PS3 diminuiu. Particularmente, eu apostaria na primeira. E vocês?

Per Rage, Carmak ha confermato che la versione Xbox 360 sarà identica alla controparte per PS3 nonostante quanto detto nei giorni scorsi.

ecco il link del trailer

Per Fifa '09 vi proponiamo due video.

Clic para verlo en Alta Definición (HD)

Por: Slyjss

Lo primero: os he puesto el youtube, pero no ver este tráiler en HD debería ser castigado con pena de muerte. Lo segundo: madre mía que pintaza. Dudo que el in-game se acerque a esto, pero si lo hace podemos estar orgullosos del trabajo de ID Software. La novedad más eseñable del tráiler es la presencia de unas carreras que serían un cruce entre Motorstorm y Mad Max. Por lo demas, bichos mutantes, tías con grandes pechos y todo eso a lo que estamos acostumbrados.

Fuente: Videogaming247

So because the Heavy update out and everyone wants to get the achievements to show them online, Steam is now broken for me and a lot of other people. I CAN'T EVEN PLAY OTHER STEAM GAMES WHILE I WAIT FOR TF2 TO BECOME EMPTY AGAIN.

PD: Do you have power of attorney for her?
Fiance: No, we're not married yet.
Another colleague: Who else would it be? You're engaged.
Fiance: And her parents aren't here, so, yeah.

I'm not sure if the fiance will be able to make medical decisions while the fiancee is out under anesthesia, if he doesn't formally hold power of attorney and isn't her health care proxy. Nor do I wish for her to be stuck under anesthesia without anyone around who can speak for her and see that her wishes are followed.

However, the sheer, stunning heterosexual privilege took my breath away with how ordinary it was. It is so easy to be straight in this country. You can assume that because you're engaged, people will take your relationship seriously. You can assume that because you're engaged, people will think that you can speak for your significant other or at the very least ought to be consulted. You can assume that because you're engaged, your opinion about what happens to that person will matter more than that of a random person on the street. You and your relationship are treated as if they matter to the person on the operating table. Whether or not you have any formal powers, you don't have to worry that they will be challenged as a matter of course--the default assumption is that people will consider that relationship valid and as having legal weight rather than that people will refuse to give any credence to it whatsoever and fight tooth and nail against acknowledging it.

In my state, same sex marriage is now legal, and god willing, will continue to be so after the November election, provided that voters turn out to defeat Prop. 8 (proposition text on the last page; PDF). The state Supreme Court recently ruled that doctors practicing in CA cannot use religion as an excuse to deny treatment to LGBTQI people. So, really, you could say that it ain't all that bad here.

Except that people who aren't heterosexual have to fight for these basic rights, have to fight for equality. We don't get to assume that people will treat us as equal human beings. Those marriages still aren't recognized under federal law, to say nothing of other states'. People still go out of their way to avoid validating same sex relationships however possible.

It is so goddamned easy to be heterosexual and I am incredibly bitter and jealous. Ain't I a person, too?

ETA: More on how goddamned easy it is to be heterosexual: he can expect to take a day off to be with his fiancee while she's having surgery, and coworkers will understand. He can talk about his fiancee, period, without worrying about being fired, about being insulted, about being shunned, about being harassed. He can talk about his engagement without being upbraided for flaunting his heterosexual lifestyle and heterosexual relationship in everyone's face. I wish them nothing but happiness, but I am still so bitter and envious and I want to know why I can't have that, too.

I've been here for 3 days, and already he is driving me round the bend. Yesterday I made him sit down to talk about the big issues that we need to sort out - the birth certificate, the paternity test, the child support agreement, what role he's going to play in his son's life. I honestly think he would avoid talking about all of these things for the whole month that I'm here, if I hadn't cornered him and said: "We need to talk. Now."

Once I got him talking, it quickly came to light that the F.O.B. had somehow convinced himself that we were back together, and that I would soon be moving back to England, where we would be buying a country house in Surrey, to go along with our London townhouse, whereupon we would be having a few more children, and living happily ever after. It's astounding. And what's even more astounding is that this happens every time I see the F.O.B.

I must have told him a hundred times that it's over between us. He seems to get it at the time, looks hurt and shocked, disappears for a few days or weeks, and then bounces right back into the same place, where he imagines we are happy and in loving relationship again. When I point this out to him, he simply smiles oddly and says he's an optimist.

For fuck's sake, this isn't optimism, this is full blown delusional psychosis. The F.O.B. has more than a few screws loose in there. He's one sandwich short of a picnic. He's lost the plot. Out to lunch. Nutso.

So yesterday I had to tell him again: "ITS OVER. Do you understand? OVER. WE ARE NOT IN RELATIONSHIP. We are FRIENDS. Nothing more."

He looked as if I had socked him hard in the gut with a cricket bat. I felt bad, but what else can I do? How can I get the message through his thick rhinoceros skin? I made him repeat "WE'RE OVER" a few times so that I could be sure he got the message. And then I tried to pin him down on the big issues of child support. And you know what he said?

"Darling, I was rather hoping that things were going to go well for us, but since they're not, I'm going to have to think about what is the best thing for me to do."

It took all my strength not to scream "AARGH!!!!" and pull all his hair out (not mine, because it's already falling out from stress).

We are going to get nowhere, I can feel it in my bones. I'm going to have to go back to Cal and unleash that bulldog lawyer of mine and set his dial to kill. Then write a note to the F.O.B. saying: "Darling, I was rather hoping that things were going to go well for us, but since they're not, I'm going to have to go for the jugular. California Style."

My wife and I have lived in this house for 2 years now; this is our first house.  Had we known that the town would be laying the sewer line down so soon into our house venture, me might not have purchased the house in the first place.  Or at least we would be ready for it.  Instead, we get surprised with a demand that we connect to the town sewer by September 30th. 

Now maybe they’re a little slow, but I’m not sure the sewer commission has noticed that houses cost A LOT of money.  And they cost money to maintain.  And the town keeps raising the property tax.  And house insurance goes up as the value of my house goes up.  So where do they think all of the money that they’re trying to squeeze out of me is coming from?

Let’s see…$2,200 for the assessment fee.  What is that anyway?  Am I paying my share to have them lay the pipe and repave the road?  Where do my taxes go then?  Must be for that fancy new sign on the town line.  It would be okay if this were something that I asked for, but my septic has been fine and dandy since I moved here.  I don’t need the sewer hookup.  Did I mention the lien they put on my house?  For something I don’t want?  For something I never agreed to?

What’s next?  Oh, there’s the $250 application fee for the paperwork that I need to file in order to connect to the sewer that I didn’t ask for.

More?  Oh yeah!  There’s the $50 “connection fee” once I finally tie into the sewer line.

Let’s not forget that in order to actually connect my house to the sewer line, I need to hire someone to actually dig up my yard and lay the drain that connects to the sewer line.  Quotes that I am hearing revolve around the $2,000 mark.  Are you serious Town?  Do you think that I’m rich, because I managed to buy a house?

Congratulations, you’ve officially chapped my ass.  Too bad for you this is an election year.

Infact before coming to love I should have stressed more on the number of people who hardly find their love and even if they do, really what fraction of them are successful in getting into a relationship. Rejections are more easy to come by than the acceptation. The reasons for rejection is also a long tale so I aint bothering going into that.

So incase you are in a happy relationship then you definitely know what fraction of the world you are. But anyways so whats the problems with love? Thing is couples kind of start getting touchy on very petty issues on which they would have laughed on if they had been friends. There is severe change in most people who go into relationships. Most of them end up losing their original identity which spurs more problems between the pair.

People who first were "blinding themselves so as to be unaware of the other person s negatives" over a period of time start finding small faults in the other. The number of arguments,dissimilarities,disagreements you find with the other that you wouldnt have cared about as friends. Breakups take place for as petty issue as a joke misinterpreted or something not going according to one of them or the one of the best reasons "I cant handle this relationship" due to umpteen reasons. So in the end even though you had those moments of happiness and joy and when you think that you two are inseparable then why such small things let your relationship go into such a dark phase?? After the breakup you cant even be friends as it starts getting so awkward. How come the person you were ready to spend an entire lifetime is now the one of whom you cant bear for a minute.Anger and rage breaks out leaving you depressed. So was it better to "NEVER LOVED AT ALL THAN TO HAVE LOVED AND LOST"? I do agree.

Just logged into DrivethuRPG and purchased a .PDF of Pyramid of Shadows, in the hopes that it will contain some new beasties for 4th Edition, like the previous adventure did.

Worrying thoughts did start to haunt my brains when the download declared itself complete at 1KB (damn, they are getting good at compressing data), and those thoughts became fuming torrents of screaming, swearing and soiling when I discovered that my £10 download had no pages...woo!

So, imagine my increased fury when I returned to the site to let them know about this mistake, and found that the number of downloads remaining had magically plunged by two.

New swear words were created. Life, born of pure rage struggled, mewling and shuddering into this world, borne aloft on wings of wretched, pure fury.

I'm still waiting to hear from someone in customer support.

My stomach hurts.

I understand Scott to be saying this discussion is about how we can better educate homeschooled kids on the issues, not for arguing the issues ourselves.  Better! :)

So, holding tight to my "belief" that Scott does really "think" about tough issues, and means to encourage all homeschooled kids to do the same -- I accept that he's brought this up hoping to deepen their reasoning and understanding of how sex, religion and politics intersect and affect real lives.

In that positive and collegial spirit, and with great respect for every family's right to accept or reject the input as they see fit, let me offer a couple of education resources that might be hard to come by otherwise, for conservative Christian homeschool kids. First, my own willingness to answer their questions and describe my own current perspective as a stay-at-home mom and unschooling non-partisan who believes that without respecting free will, nothing can be moral, that coercion and power imbalance can poison even the most moral human ideals.

And that choosing love in your own life can redeem even the most immoral. That applies to friendship, education, marriage, motherhood, public service, work, war and peace, and I think I'm prepared to argue, to salvation itself. 
Isn't free will a basic tenet of Christianity?

So secondly, here are the two nonfiction books I recommend most highly for broadening homeschoolers' education on this issue and starting to "reconcile" our polarized politics in favor of greater humanity and compassion for all life. Dworkin's elegant legal argument is my best pick, and the new history of American girls who didn't have abortions is my 16-year-old daughter's pick, out of all we've ever read. (And we read everything!)

Oh, and there's one we both admire for its complex and senstive power of story ,I guess it's technically fiction although not really imo -- the Cider House Rules by John Irving.

The Girls Who Went Away: The HIdden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade by Ann Fessler

Life's Dominion: An Argument About Abortion, Euthanasia, and Individual Freedom by Ronald Dworkin

***********

Steve writes:

"JJ apparently thinks we should be free to commit all sorts of crimes. We are, but not without consequences."

That wild first premise doesn't lead to the second! But the second is true enough -- trouble is, it's about crime, which tells us nothing useful about legal freedoms like privacy and choice, including law-abiding moms and potential moms.

Scott and I are both scholars of First Amendment law, in which there's a bright line drawn between "prior restraint" of free expression (which our Constitution doesn't allow) and allowing the law to impose punitive consequences for certain expression because our government deems it NOT free -- in other words, you won't be prevented from violating the law before the fact but you're on notice of what is violative, and that there are legal consequences.

So, any citizen with a voice or a pen or a keyboard is "free" to violate the law by inciting violence, making death threats, libel etc, -- free in this sense meaning they can't legally be restrained from all communication before they violate the law in the first place -- but not "free" in the sense that there is no legal price to pay after they DO commit a tort or crime.

It seems like Steve believes a range of of private female behaviors, choices and decisions are free only in the first sense but not the second, that various reproductive, pregnancy and contraceptive choices are actually capital crimes akin to murder?

We all know that's not what we're talking about here. The pro-life movement interprets God's law when it calls abortion murder, not Government's law.

And the difference between God's Law and Government's Law makes all the difference in how well America can preserve and protect both freedom and life. Confusing the two is getting fully born and free people killed throughout the world, all in the name of some doomsday divinity doctrine that we're told is futile for free, thinking men and women to resist.

Freedom is not the enemy here, and virgins are not the prize!

Evangelical homeschooled teens who care so deeply about "life" need to understand that difference before they protect even their own life and freedom from totalitarians, much less mine, or future life potential for anyone male or female, born or unborn, Muslim, Christian or Jew.

***********

Sorry I had to run, Favorite Daughter needed a ride to her community college class - I want to address Steve's point about "natural" consequences as well as social-government consequences.

While I thank any man for his concern about my welfare (even teenagers) and any woman for her support, the fact is that there are all sorts of physical consequences that threaten women's health. We're learning through science that most physical conditions are correlated with particular habits, beliefs, behaviors and practices -- not just sex and reproduction but eating, drinking, sleeping, exercising, kinds of health care or lack thereof, general lack of resources like education and income. Marriage, friends, even getting enough hugs per day (ten is optimum, did you know that?)

I personally face significant and potentially life-threatening "natural consequences" myself resulting from choosing to BE a mom, rather than choosing not to be a mom.

Am I being punished by God or nature then, and should I have known better and chosen differently? Should pro-life homeschooled children learn about THOSE consequences while they are getting this other set of scientific "facts?"Where were the loving, caring folk to counsel me AGAINST pregnancy and all its life-threatening natural consequences?

I really hope pro-life homeschooled teens are learning to think through such fallacious arguments; the Well-Trained Mind curriculum and other critical thinking programs available for home education. For example, I suggest a pro-life essay topic worthy of our finest young students might be to read this female professor's polemic called "To Be A Mother" and then articulate the best-reasoned argument against it they can, if any:

What do you think about this approach from bioethics-philosophy professor Hilde Lindemann?
(Here's one excerpt, but it's an elegant argument that needs to be read in full to appreciate, much less attempt to refute.)

"They want to hold pregnant women – who are innocent of any wrongdoing –to a punitive standard of specific performance, sentencing them against their will to the many kinds of hard work, physical discomfort, and outright danger that my daughter has undertaken to bring her wanted child into the world.

No other class of people is held to this standard in peacetime. No woman should be held to it either.

. . .consider distributing the gender burden more evenly by enacting a law that forces all able-bodied men to donate a kidney to someone who will die without one. That way they too would have to do something with their bodies to support someone else’s life--something a little like the creative and purposeful work that women do when they sustain a pregnancy..."

I was literally in tears this evening; crushed that a random passerby did not acknowledge me as she passed. Today, this confirmed the source of my anger as the deepening severity of loneliness and isolation. Unfortunately, the origin's realization brought little relief. This depressive position is usually defended against by a heightened sense of righteous indignation. A pious narcissism much more effective than your petty rationalizations. I try to sit with it; to feel. But, instead, I tend toward intellectualizations such as this entry. It is my only recourse and escape, but brings only minimal relief and only fuel for later pain.

After my walk, I came home and hugged my cat. I feel ridiculous. I feel severely anxious around people; particularly attractive women. And, it is not the familiar boyish, tongue-tied nervousness. No, this is a sort of abject terror that to risk interpersonal engagement with a woman to whom I am attracted might be to again be so profoundly injured by her; as I was by my ex. Approach-avoidance. I now ache for companionship, for love, for someone to share even the little things with, not to mention my alleged achievement of August 5th.

I want to cry more. I want to scream and yell at her. I need to let this go. The Cult prevented me from feeling as bad as I needed to feel. So did the Ultimate Project. Now, my mind is free to re-traumatize me repeatedly in every contemporary social scenario. I try to pull back, to step back, to observe, decide, and take action. I fail. I am continuously caught-up  in the emotion that I work so hard to repress, but still the quota of affect wells, oozes, and infects. I hate me. And, I do not know why. It is the obliquely unspoken and unknown transmutation of my father's own abusive childhood.

Por enquanto é só um teaser e não tem nada demais, novamente trabalho com flash, neste caso uma simples animação em timeline e AS3 do menu de navegação entre alguns produtos da coleção Verão 2009.

Direção de Arte: Gustavo Scandiuzzi
Html: Vagner Oliveira
Flash: EU

Segue o link

Ce billet sera hautement personnel ou ne sera pas. Voilà une méthode comme une autre pour avertir...

Ce que je vais vous raconter s'est passé la nuit dernière. Mais avant de commencer, il faut que je spécifie que Douce a un chat, nommé bien justement Caliméro, qui a une déficience mentale et un problème de motricité. La plupart du temps, il n'y a pas trop de problème avec lui, sauf une chose : certaines nuits, il se met à crier/cracher parce qu'il voit au travers du moustiquaire un chat étranger sur le balcon. La dernière fois que c'est arrivé, il a poussé la rage jusqu'à s'attaquer à Bobino, l'autre chat de la maisonnée, qui s'était trop approché de lui. Laissez-moi vous dire que c'est quand même assez effrayant de l'entendre et ensuite de lui voir l'air affolé, quand on tente de calmer le jeu.

Alors, vous aurez deviné, il s'est encore commis. Mais la différence, c'est que moi aussi je dormais, contrairement aux autres fois où seulement Douce était assoupie. Ce qui est arrivé exactement est passablement flou pour moi dans la suite des événements, puisque je n'étais pas tout à fait réveillé, encore un peu dans l'ambiance floue de mon rêve — dont je n'arrive nullement à me souvenir —, et que ça s'est passé en moins de 2 secondes.

Donc, j'ouvre les yeux avec le rugissement aigu du chat, je sens que Douce se lève, court vers la cuisine (où se trouve la fenêtre qui donne sur le balcon) et, l'adrénaline dans le tapis, je me lève aussi à la course. J'entends alors des bruits disparates : Douce qui accroche quelque chose qui tombe, un chat qui court vers nous, la voix de Douce en grande panique. Et aussitôt je la vois par terre, je pense au bébé dans son ventre et en la regardant droit dans les yeux je crie comme un cinglé : c'était la seule façon disponible pour moi à ce moment-là pour lui demander si tout allait bien en elle, et lui signifier ma peur, mon inquiétude, tout cela mêlé à l'angoisse qui avait grandi exponentiellement en moi du seul fait des événements et de la situation. Je m'approchai d'elle assez rapidement les yeux écarquillés et elle m'a agrippé, me serrant contre elle, me disant que je n'avais pas à m'inquiéter, qu'il ne se passait rien de grave.

Et j'ai remarqué les deux chats tout près de nous. Tout ce branle-bas de combat avait calmé Caliméro à la seconde. Nous nous sommes recouchés après avoir fait le tour de l'appartement. Douce s'est seulement éraflé le genou et la cheville (et s'est fait finalement un bleu sur l'autre jambe) et nous avons ressassé l'événement en boucle, comme il faut.

Nous avons eu beaucoup de difficulté à nous calmer, donc à nous rendormir, moi d'autant plus — j'avais un point de douleur au sternum —, et j'ai décidé qu'il me fallait me changer les idées en ouvrant la télé. Le water-polo, le canot-kayak et le canot tout court ont fini par avoir raison de mon angoisse résiduelle.

Voilà pour l'anecdote. Et je viens à peine de réussir à en rire, en compagnie de Douce qui désinfectait sa plaie. J'ai eu mal à l'âme et au coeur tout l'après-midi, même si j'écrivais — en urgence — un billet sur les blogues d'humoristes...

Je ne peux m'empêcher de faire un lien énorme avec les sentiments qui m'ont habité quand j'ai eu des crises de panique, naguère. Mais la différence, c'est qu'hier j'avais des raisons réelles de paniquer, même si elles se sont avérées exagérément amplifiées, alors que dans le temps c'était des réactions qui prenaient leurs sources nulle part, enfin, quelque part de trop bien caché pour le pointer, encore aujourd'hui.

Je n'avais pas besoin de cette preuve, mais au moins je sais encore plus que ma Douce et ma Charlie sont ce qui compte le plus pour moi. C'est bien beau les théories, mais le corps parle toujours bien mieux, en fin de compte.

(Photo : Esther_G)

Apparently, he just had breakfast with Her. before rushing on to Network in Nairn. Neither of them seem to realise that once you have been lovers you cannot return to friendship. Or is that just my over simplistic view? I am no longer in contact with any of my ex lovers though one is now close in Broughty Ferry. 

The Sunday papers have some coverage of the Cinema of Dreams though I think some of the journos were finding the communication network a bit stone age. So the library in Nairn shuts on a Saturday afternoon and down goes the connection to the World Wide Web. What can they do but wait for Monday? Tilda looks like a scared rabbit caught in the headlights in a couple of the snapper's shots. but did she really think people would view her scheme for a film festival in the amateurish way they would view a drama programme from the Women"s Rural Institute? Both she and John are A list celebrities in their own fields and the press expected their A list friends to turn up in Nairn. And August is always silly season for the papers hungry for gossip.

On his return from Nairn almost at the time he promised (a small miracle in itself), I thought that Otloml was trying to have himself re-instated as love of my life. Sheepishly, on the doorstep (did he fear I would not let him in?) he said " I have brought you a present."

 My heart lifted. Surely a spontaneous gift giving is a good sign?

My memory took me on a quick journey of the shops on offer in Nairn. Tilda Swinton's avouched favourite would most definitely be shut on a Sunday. Indeed, bearing in mind Nairn's proximity to the Highland haunts of the strict churches of the sabbath observers so might all the rest. Perhaps he'd bought something on Saturday. He knows my taste: French perfume, despite That Woman; luxury leather bags.; Italian shoes; rpses......

"i got the petrol can filled up at the garage so you'll be able to mow the grass"!

Yes, Alright. The garden is my area; He can't tell which are plants and which weeds and shows horrendous signs of allergic reaction to most air-borne beasties but romantic this wasn't .He stays Otloml.
Despite this infelicitous attempt to please me he does seem to be trying. I know I told him I forgave the adultery. Basically, being a woman, I hold my two rivals responsible. I know how weak a man can be when faced with temptation. So the forgiveness is there. Otloml wants me to forget. Basically shut up about it and pretend nothing ever happened. I can't do that, or at least, not yet . A day of In Service boredom at school however and Otloml not only responds quickly to a text, but he is more or less on time to pick me up at the end of the school day. And this after he had voluntarily got up early to take me in to work because I had so much stuff! 

Things are even more strange on the way home. He seems quiet, even depressed. I venture a query about his day. He says he had not achieved as much as he had hoped. I make a snide comment about even my absence not being enough for him. And then we arrive home. Not only had he fixed on the replacement part to the lawnmower I had destroyed in one of my angry gardening sessions the other  week, he had mown the grass! I exclaimed, overjoyed that I did not have to fill the distinctly damp evening with this task.

"But you would have found it quite hard, " he muttered. "The mower kept cutting out because the grass was so long"

Another brownie point earned and then he stole another. 
"Do you know if we still have spacers for wall tiles? " he questioned gently. 

I was bemused. Work on the repairs to the fabric of our Edwardian house had ceased when Petr, our friendly Czech worker had returned to university last year. Apathy and a lack of funds had meant the bathroom was still untiled. I rushed upstairs. There was a whole line of perfect tiling and the wall area had been prepared. Whatever had come over Otloml? I expected his day to be full of the usual work for the archive. All this and he had put up two blogs! Perhaps he should get up early more often

In my heart, I  know he wants to please me but I have had a day of colleagues in the know (the old friend, now retired, in whom I had confided last month had obviously spilled the beans) My fellow teachers were sympathetic but claimed they had been suspicious of the relationship I had described with Her. Why had they failed to convey these thoughts before Otloml gave way to temptation? Would I have listened? I had received four hateful anonymous letters more than two years ago, before Her move to Elgin.Initially very upset I accepted their laughing explanation of nasty minded neighbours with too little to do. After all, I trusted my husband and my friend.

Now I am left with the suspicion that my colleagues pity me. They do not understand how much I love Otloml.

“A lot of survivors won’t go inside a church,” she said.
“So we wanted something that wouldn’t make people go inside.”

Odd and troubling power of story for a nursery rhyme with finger play, now that I stop to think about it. Doors work both ways, right? People flow out as well as in, back and forth freely without restraint? But my fingers don't and can't do that, they literally are of One Body -- so those thumb-made church doors we played with as children weren't really open at all, and all those funny little "people" I was delighted to see swaying together "inside" the church, were eternally attached to their seats inside. There wasn't a single person outside and there never could be!

So the singsong rhyme taught us tangible, obvious truth that was a monstrous lie.

If you don't remember that nursery rhyme, try an old-fashioned riddle.
How is Big School like Big Church?
People on the outside are leery of going in because they've learned one way of the other that people on the inside wish they'd either come in and shut the door behind them, or shut up and go away. Plenty of people both inside and outside resent the hell out of it all.

People wherever they are don't all think and feel the same way. But most people in or out, for any reason, are able to remember that all people are well, still people!

I think it's quite the metaphor for our most wrenching public policy concerns and contentions. I watched Rick Warren's entire Saddleback event with McCain and Obama live last night, in his megachurch changing politics, and just marveled at how different people approach the same Big Questions, and how different observers hear their answers. . .

Here's the haven deep and wide. Open the doors -- and there's no outside!
Here's the children full of feeling. Open the doors and let's call it healing.

izanai no tsukuyo
akemi ni somaru mune

* kusen shitou jubaku hanatsu Hades!
iryoku midasu giwaku daraku Hades!
kokuji bibou shikou kiroku Hades!
toga o sarasu shobatsu Hades : The Bloody Rage!

yuukyuu no yami ni muka ita karada wa yatsurete
utsuou hitomi ni koboreru shizuku o kouketsu no
iro ni some te yobi samase

yokubou hanahiraku mugen no toki
mitsu o shitatame te zakuro ga saku

tsugunai no yamiyo
chi shu ni ukabu tsuki

kagami zou kegasu kaosu kowasu Hades!
somaru miryou ki shoku kuruu Hades!
kusen shitou jubaku hanatsu Hades!
shigai irai kibouchi Hades : The Bloody Rage!

sobieru kojou wa tamashii no tsuki ta keigai
kawai ta daichi ni furueru sabaki no sangeki
tsugeru kane yo narihibike

yuukyuu no yami ni muka ita karada wa yatsurete
kawai ta daichi ni hibii ta sabaki no sangeki

utsuou hitomi ni koboreru shizuku o kouketsu no
iro ni some te yobi samase

Repeat *

Other men take to wearing leathers and riding unsuitably dangerous motorbikes when they feel old age is creeping up on them, If only that had been Otloml's escape! Flexing his penis in two affairs may be his equivalent. An article in the "Times" yesterday suggests that men are more likely to cheat on their wives when they reach mid fifties. Otloml was obviously an early developer. Something to do with a late reproductive urge too.Well She is still of a reproductive age ! The study does suggest that married people are happier than the single. At the moment I think we would both seriously contest that view.

My hope is that with the cooling of the sun in these late summer days, his blood will cool too. I want the old partner back. The caring, considerate one who always seemed to want to share our experiences and thoughts. Can he really have vanished totally? What do I need to do to bring him back?

His return is certainly on my mind this evening. After rushing off up north last night, he seems still to be trying to work on the memorabilia idea. This I totally understand. I just don't know how many of his text messages from last night to believe. Certainly he claimed to be unable to contact Alex with whom I thought he'd stay. He did seem to realize how little I liked the idea of Her house as a stopover. She had of course offered this comfort. And how many others? Can I really believe the implied stay in a lay-by, shielded by big lorries? I want to,  but he saw her this morning by his own admission and probably used her house to access the Internet and put up his blogs. Yes. He now has two. One the original Rockmine and a new Ballerina Ballroom blog. This he hopes to use as a stepping stone for the memories of habituees of the Ballroom from its heyday as a rock venue in the late sixties/early seventies. There do seem to be many locals with long memories so he may well learn some interesting things. Yes, I approve of what he is trying to do. It is just so awfully close to Her! How many miles from Nairn to Elgin?

Sadly, he" forgot'  to take his phone charger so I have been warned off the texting. I have little idea of when he will return, though he has just apologized and said he will make it up to me. Dreadlocked dog is not too happy either and once again I have no appetite for any of the food we bought together in anticipation I thought of a good day together. Otloml just fails to understand how much I miss him. He would probably not be happy at my suspicion, but I am so miserable. No idea of how he got on with the reporter woman either, though she has supposedly "interviewed" him. Nothing to do but wait and hope.

The last play she acted in there was at the end of 2006, Wet, where she got a very bad review in the Union-Trib (“one note snarling performance” – ouch).

The question is – did she quit or did she get kicked out?

I am not surprised by either. She said several times, “I know I’ll be the first to quit Moxie.” When I asked why, she did not say, but I saw it on her face: because she is quitter. She has been a quitter all her life. She cannot see things through; when the going gets tough, she runs away and quits, hides in a bottle of booze.

Two psychics "warned" her about her co-horts.  But what did that mean -- would they turn against her, or would she turn against them..there are a lot of very big egos in tiny little local theater; everyone thinks they are a Star.

On the other hand, her co-horts may have realized she is a pathological liar and caught her in all her bullshit. Or she screwed someone there over, back-stabbed them, lied. That is also her M.O., and the way she always fucks things up for herself. Every good thing that has come in her life she has fucked up. It’s a long story, but she fucked herself out of going to graduate acting school at Rutger’s by being stupid. She fucked herself ot of Los ngeles by being stupid and agreeing to a stupid custody agreement.  She fucked herself out of Hollywood by being an asshole to the one person who could have gotten her there -- my father. But more – the Universe dangled that opportunity in front of her nose and took it away from her for all the people she has hurt, just to show her “what could have been” had she been a good person.

Also, though, there are some typical Liv Kellgren reasons why she quit Moxie – all of her co-horts were winning wards, getting good reviews, getting accolades, getting cast in other theaters, and getting attention except for her. Nope, Liv did not get one award, good review, or attention of any sort in the press. I know she was fuming jealous about that – she may not have shown it in public to her co-horts, but deep down and in private she was pissed, angry, felt it wasn’t fair…what it was is this -- the universe taking more away from her for being an asshole.

There was also a non-founding member, a director, who was being recognized as a greater component of the group than her…and just had a baby...

Also, one of the members at Moxie recently had babies, one that Liv secretkly hated, a woman she would smile to in person, but would stab in the back, because she felt this woman was working against her, and this woman was much younger and achieving more. I know for a fact Liv could not deal with that either, to see women younger than she with their newborns, happy and married, while she is unhappy and a single mother, once married to a man she could not stand (and who is a closet homosexual to boot, cruising in his car late at night to find other men to suck off).

I knew it drove her mad and sad to see two newborns around the theater, when she fucked that part of her life up as well.  That is, me.

So – Hollywood was taken away from her, Rutgers was taken away from her, Moxie taken away form her, she has tried to start three businesses that are all failures…and she doesn’t get it, still. She doesn’t know why things are taken from her and why she is a failure…or does she?

If she did know, you’d think she’d do something to fix that, to make amends towards all she hurt, and try to be an honest and good person, but to this she remains a dishonest alcoholic who rages at the world for all she has lost and all she “could have been.”

She is now doomed to become a bitter old woman, jealous of every woman who is younger and gets an acting career, shaking the proverbial fist at the Universe and going, “Why Why Why,” and watching those she betrayed making movies, making theater, making art...

Do I find all this amusing? In an ironic way, I suppose. I never wanted to enjoy knowing of her failures, because I know they would come, but I do have a sense of justice – I know that the Universe has evened many things out by taking things she once found precious and important away from her; that she still lives in her mother’s house, at age 35, leeching away, in debt, unable to do right by her daughter, unable to get out of her self-made prison…she brought this on herself, and she deserves it.

It is justice…so I nod, with a sad little smile, what smile an unborn soul can make, knowing so much more will be taken from her, knowing she will always be a  failure, knowing she will live her entire life wondering if things could have, would have been different.

"What if..."