Been widowed now for close on 4 years and come to realize that being on my own is only good on occasions. Would love to work on a part time basis, but skills are old and no one wants to know someone my age anyway. Do volunteer work but does not give the same satisfaction. Enjoy walking and swimming (not in the sea) and enjoy a Merlot now and again. Would like to have a partner in life and I mean partner in the true sense of the word, not a man who expects to be waited on hand and foot just because of Mommy Got Boobs lol . Would hope the relationship to be a one on one and appreciate that at our age, we both have past lives and families that would need to be considered. Was married for 38 years so believe in loyalty and committment. Prefer going out for dinner to a noisy party and know I can be abrupt especially when I am a little nervous or trying to describe myself. I also freeze in front of a camera and very seldom take a good photograph. Used to be a first class cricket scorer and still love the game. Started playing table tennis again recently, but it is a far cry from when I was a teenager.

Would love to travel both within Australia and to some places overseas. Have tried it on my own, but will not go again unless there is someone special with me. Will be going to Darwin at the end of June for the month of July. Have a new grandson to meet. At the time of writing this he is 7 weeks old. I also have a 7 y.o., granddaughter by my eldest son. My grandson will grow up thinking I am a computer screen I think. Lol.

Back to the salt mines
I wrote a post with this same title several weeks ago, but somehow managed to lose it before I could get it posted. I hate when that happens.

I suppose it goes without saying that I'm back from my one-week beach vacation. There's nothing to compare to playing in the waves at the ocean's edge with a 3½ year old grandchild. Since it was a family reunion — with my parents, my siblings, all but one spouse-in-law, all but one of my children, my son-in-law, and many nieces, nephews and their SOs, as well as my grandchildren — many of my AA friends were surprised to hear that I wasn't happy to have it end. We get along wonderfully well and I think everyone had a great time. I guess not all alcoholics can say that about their families. [:)]

As happens regularly to me, I've been very, very busy again. At work an important product release date is coming up and I'm putting in a lot of time and effort. My father was admitted to the hospital yesterday. So far it seems not to be too serious, but my wife and I took time to go see him in the evening. My step-son, the one I've previously posted about, was adjudicated a delinquent by the courts yesterday and his case will be disposed of in September. If he'd been two months older, he'd be being sentenced rather than disposed of and getting 10-20 years. He probably get a few years probation, some community service and restitution (most of which he's already made, although with his mother's money).

July has been a slow month in General Service. There was an event last Saturday and there's another one tomorrow. I'm behind on one set of minutes and just not finding the time to get around to working on them. Since my vacation ended and both step-sons have returned home, I've been feeling a bit depressed, which contributes to being unable to find either time or energy. Things were so nice while they were gone. Sigh! On the bright side, one's gone again this week and both will be gone next week.

At a meeting on Sunday night there was a man with one day sober. Another guy and I talked to him for about ½ hour afterwards. He (the new guy) came to my home group on Monday and my sponsee, RM, and I talked to him again after the meeting. He called RM on Tuesday and went to another meeting that night. He seems to want it really badly. My gut says he's ready and will probably make it, but I've learned not to trust my gut on this question at all. On Wednesday I left a message for him suggesting we meet at a meeting where my sponsor's sponsor, CH, was speaking and then go out to eat with a bunch of us. He didn't return my call and didn't show up, but CH was fired up and four of us followed up with a nice meal at a local diner.

Morning! I just woke up and I'm here, I've got a lot of stuff to do today. Ha! Well, I've got to clean up the house and do some laundry. But first I have to get a cup of my mandatory coffee in. I'm surprised it hasn't been too hot here, like it was last year. But last year, I was working in a restaurant and 8 months pregnant so, I guess that made a big difference. I miss working. I think I will find a part-time job in the evenings. We'll see about that. Charis is really attached to me. More than Matt and Jo were. In the meantime, I'm still giving out the catalogs. I've got one order!! Yay! *L* I'm not putting up the website yet, but I will let you know if I do. I've been thinking about doing leadership, which is recruiting people for Avon. I don't know how I would do on that, but I don't think I would do very badly.

Yesterday, I went to the mall with Matt and Jo again. They wanted to climb the rock-climbing wall that they have at Galyan's. Julaine made it all the way to the top this time, and Matthew made it one quarter of the way. I'd say that the total height was two/three stories. Then they went to the arcade that they have in the mall.


I went into Matt and Jo's room yesterday to close the window. I smelled something bad...it was the gerbil. So Julaine and I cleaned out his cage. I never knew that a gerbil could smell so bad, but my sister warned me... Geez, I hope they take that thing with them! *L*


Ain't nothing like listening to Def Leppard first thing in the morning...on the local radio station, they are giving away tickets to see them tomorrow night in Detroit!! I wish I could go! Oh, maybe next time they come around the area. I've never been to a concert..well, I have seen Tesla, Jackyl, and Vince Neil (?!) when they came to town, but I haven't seen any current big bands yet.


And how is your day going?

The alphabetical one of Jason B
A: like the Antilles:

The Antilles, which can dream as well as the Antilles, I am West-Indian origin. My parents also, like my grandparents. All my family comes from there low. In the Antilles there are coconuts, the cane with sugar, the mango… It N is not in vain than the Antilles.



A: like animals

I love the animals. At home have a small rabbit of the name of moustache or Didlinat.



C: like crocodile

The crocodile is my preferred animal. It forms part of the family of the crocodiliens. Jaime also gavials



C: like cousin

have full with the cousins, there is in the Antilles and in metropolis, each year those of the Antilles come in metropolis.



C like console

have one (PS2) often plays there after having made my duties. have above Dragon Ball Z BUDOKAI 3

And DBZ Budokai Tenkachis, have also Hulk.



D like DVD

I preferably look at sometimes DVD the week end. I rent them with the video club. I go sometimes in colo



V like video

J’often looks at some with my cousins



V like holidays

During the great holidays, I go in colo and also I leaves in family at the seaside.



S like Sœur:

have two small Sœurs one four years and one two years.



P: like table tennis

adores table tennis, is my favorite sport. When I am tall I will make trainer of table tennis.



T: like tele

I look at sometimes the tele one with my family

Jason

Sex and the Quoted
That makes an end of time already that the " rabble " invaded the gay field of the phantasms. Sket plans, cellar and revolving became current currency in the advertisements of meeting and Internet sites dedicated. Whatever the medium in which one evolves/moves, whatever the trade that one makes, the rabble heats the brains. But then, of what does one nourish the phantasm of the rabble when thinks that this thing is hardly polished A of the evil to align three words and does not assume sexually ?

The transgression, a desire of what is poisonous, an element of masochism or a setting in voluntary danger, here perhaps of the brief replies. Or wouldn't this be rather the unavowed desire to escape from its condition from gay while wanting to approach closely that which incarnates the male dominating ?

To colour, will curdle it ideal could be described in the following way : large a B… gone up on tennis shoes with an expression on the face which breathes the ill will. And if such an amount of is that it to take you along within the fairy-like framework a cellar… what a happiness will say some !

And for those which do not dare to cross the step in order to live their phantasm with an animal of will curdle 100% pure zone, it is easy to find what to feed thanks to a whole panoply of films, magazines or telephone networks in any kind. Rogues truer there are seen than natural so much so that truths will tell you that they are not recognized.

As for me, it seems to to me high time to leave us the head image of the rogue in the carpark, image so poetic and favourable with frolicking in love…

Exploring the Feminine
"But I don't want to be a girl!" I complained as I walked across the room with an atlas perched precariously on my head.
"Shoulders back, dear," was my gran's only comment. I sighed and threw my shoulders back so hard that the atlas fell off my head and crashed onto the floor behind me.
"Why do I have to learn this?" I whined, my bottom lip sticking out. My gran could tell when she was beaten, and poured me a cup of tea.

"That's enough deportment for today," she said.
I sipped my tea in silence for a few minutes. "Why can't I be a boy?" I finally asked. My gran's expression was again weary. I'd asked this at least a hundred times before.
"You can't be a boy because you were born a girl," she explained. "That's the way you're supposed to be. To change would be unnatural."
"But boys have it so much easier. They don't have to learn how to walk and dance and sit and eat politely."
Gran smiled. "Yes, they do. But they do it in a different way. You think that boys and girls have to learn completely different things. They don't... they just learn the same thing differently. Girls learn that bic cocks are good, while the boys learn that firm tits are the way to go."
"Boys don't have to be pretty." I pulled a face as I tried to nibble on my nails: my gran had coated them with some horrible-tasting substance which was supposed to strengthen them. She gently pulled my fingers away from my mouth.
"That's a dirty habit. Think of all the germs you're putting in your mouth! Stacy, boys have to be handsome! They need to learn how to treat girls properly. When he's older, your brother will learn those things. And I bet he'll complain just as much as you!"

Once a week, my grandparents would pick us up from school (usually with a small piece of old-style Galaxy chocolate for each of us ) and we would go to their house. My brother would end up in the garden, playing with my grandfather and I would inevitably be taught "how to be a lady."

While my gran wasn't of the slightly more distant, and slightly more posh, branch of my maternal lineage, she had definitely been affected by them at some point. I often think that her main expectation was for me to marry a nice rich boy (preferably a member of the Royal Family, hehe). And I resisted most of her attempts to make me more feminine.
Apart from a small gothic phase I went through at the age of ten, I didn't take much care of my appearance in any way. I was happier playing in the dirt, climbing trees and trying to knock the neighbourhood boys off of their bikes before they could do the same to me (Bike Bumper Cars... don't try this at home!).

This was back in an age when gender and sex were assumed to be very much the same thing. If your sex said female, your gender said feminine - and only feminine. As a student of the University of Life, my toe-dippings into Taoism and Hermetic philosophy have reminded me that we contain both genders at our core. By playing war games, I was merely exercising my masculine element. By taking care of the local animals, I was showing my nurturing feminine element.

A few months back, I watched a documentary on very young transsexuals. We're talking 6 to around 14 here. And I was very interested to note how many of their "symptoms" matched up to the way I had behaved when I was younger. I didn't want to wear girls' clothes either. I felt as though boys understood me more than girls. I tried to pee standing up (yes, according to this documentary, wishing to pee standing up is a sign that your little girl may in fact be a little boy ).

In my understanding, true transsexuals have brains that have developed one way while their brain has developed another. Literally - their brains show a closer development towards the opposite sex. We are all female in the womb up to a point, and sometimes the hormone release gets a little futzed. It has nothing to do with whether or not you'd rather wear jeans. And I find it rather sad that if I'd insisted that I wanted to be a boy today, I may well be taking hormone tablets now. Human-wind-tunnel-ism at its most disturbing... rather than reminding the kids of the true and fluid nature of gender, these new "tolerant" parents decide that their child must be gender dysphoric and commence treatment. Mayhap some screening is in order to make sure that these youngsters are in fact transsexual.

I am no longer ashamed of the fact that I have been born into a female body this time around. And while I refuse many of the trappings of socially-constructed gender roles, I do connect with the true nature of the feminine energy in my day-to-day life.
I also see beauty in my opposite, and connect with the masculine energy within me as often as I can (most evident in my forcefulness at times). And I look for a masculine-dominant personality to complement my feminine-dominant personality in my relationships - completing the yin/yang circle of nature.

Through my understanding of what feminine is and is not, I also understand what masculine is and is not. And I can see how it is only when these two come together - both within and without - the true spark of life and death is achieved.

It's kinda like waltzing. The dance of life.

Dream, Dream, Dream...
Yes, another (somewhat long) dream post. I had this dream last Sunday night, but I'm only posting it now because I've been all distracted lately. So, anyone who is easily bored by dream posts, exit stage left...

For some reason, I was in what looked like my gran's old house and a party had just ended. I waved goodbye to everyone and went back to the dining room to start the clear-up operation when my mobile rang.
I picked it up, and a creepy, horror-movie-esque voice on the other end told me that he was watching me, yadda yadda. I looked out into the garden through the glass sliding doors, but because it was dark outside and the lights were on inside, I couldn't see anything.

A guy walked up behind me and asked what was wrong. In the dream, I glanced up, and while my conscious mind registered that something was a bit weird, my dream-state didn't. See, this guy was Ryan, only he looked really different - he was around six feet tall, had black hair and was all muscly. That was when I noticed that I had blonde hair and was about 5' 6". And I was wearing a long, extremely girly skirt. Freaky. We lived together in the house and were romantically involved - something which my present-day-oriented brain found hard to grasp - and I realised that we were both in our twenties.
This series of realisations happened in a split second, as though someone had just plugged it into me... Anyways, on with the action.

I held the phone away from my ear and asked 'Ryan' to put his around my waist (protective-guy thing attempt to scare off freaky caller). He did, looking puzzled, and I told the caller that I was going to hang up. I snapped the mobile shut (I had a really cute flip phone), turned around and walked away from the window, ducking into a blind spot between two sofas and pulling 'Ryan' down with me.

"What are we doing down here?" he asked.
"I don't want to get killed." I answered, my heart pounding.
"What makes you think you're going to get killed?"
"I'm psychic, remember? Something's really wrong with this..."

I trailed off, because 'Ryan' was smiling in an odd kind of way. He was holding something out, and it took dream-me a few minutes to register what it was: a mobile phone with my number in the last-dialled list.
I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't have the chance. I actually felt the knife entering my chest, and slowly piercing right into my heart.

There was a little pain at first, but then all I could feel was how cold the knife was. I struggled a little, but with every twitch I felt the knife cut more of my cardiac muscle. I felt dizzy, and the coldness in my heart spread through the rest of my body... it was happening so quickly, but it felt as though time had slowed. I felt my consciousness leaving my body - it was as though I was seeing double as my physical eyes and my metaphysical 'eyes' separated. And throughout all of this, 'Ryan' was still smiling.

"Wake up! Wake up! Do you want to die for real? Wake up!" My brain was screaming at me. I tried to pull myself out of the dream, but I was so tired and so cold... everything was turning black and time was slipping away.
"Get the hell awake!" My brain had taken to yelling obsceneties at me, and slowly I began to wake up, taking deep breaths and rather than trying to slow my heartbeat, trying to speed it up. My arms felt heavy and my mind was dull. When I finally managed to open my eyes, the remainder of my consciousness snapped back.

"What the hell was that all about?" I muttered, checking that all of my limbs were working. Even though it's been a whole week, I can't come up with an interpretation that fits...

Here's hoping it wasn't pre-cognitive!

I've also realised that I partake of Freudian reading far more than I would like... a Google search for something or other returned the page title "Do hobbits have hobbit-sized ...", the dots indicating that a part of the title had to be cut off.
My eyes widened. No way! Surely they didn't mean...?
"Do hobbits have hobbit-sized pets?"
Apparently not. Damn my dirty mind...

It has come to my attention that the internet really needs a new gadget - reverse password protection.

Basically, a person would give hir friends a password for their website, and upon entering that password into the login field of the website, all access for that person would be blocked through IP blocking or something. This would ensure that the person's website would still be accessible to the wider Internet, but not to their friends or family.

Alternatively, a person's friends and family could just not read it.
That, lovely folks out there, was a hint. Y'know, that subtle thing you do when you're trying to get someone to catch on without offending them.
But - silly me - I appear to be forgetting that hints don't work. Let's spell it out for you... no, hang on again, some folks can't handle that. Middle ground... middle ground, oh where is the middle ground...?

Ah ha...! No, wait, let me try again... I think I've got it! Yes, it's sticky and grey and more than a little confusing. I believe this is the middle ground of which people speak...

If there is even the slightest chance that something on this blog is going to offend you and/or give you insights into day-to-day thoughts scudding across my mind that you'd rather not see, then please avert your eyes and delete your bookmarks, because nothing is going to change. I would apologise for this, but I don't see why I should... the Internet is no different from a television set in that you can just turn it off.

Mmm'k, I still need to work on the tact thing. But I'm getting there!

I actually added the static top paragraph to this blog for that very reason. I was hoping that perhaps people who have in the past been offended and angered and whatnot by the contents of this here weblog would read it and take it on board, but it seems not.

Even more bemusing, I actually write warnings on the entries which I feel may offend people... so there's really no excuse!

This is a journal. It is no different from a journal that may be hidden under a bed in that its contents can only reflect the thoughts that are in my head at any one time. Opinions are changeable and should not be taken as though they are inscribed on the inside of my skull. And when you are reading this journal, you should treat it as if you had read my actual journal, i.e. don't mention it.

To put my journal up here on the internet requires a great deal of trust in the people I know offline. I am literally sharing my journal entries here - sometimes I copy blog entries word-for-word into my paper journal (and it's a damn good thing you guys don't read that if you react badly to this toned-down version). If you can't handle it, for goodness sake, just don't read it! How hard can that possibly be?

Anyway, I'm writing this in Media when I really should be doing my coursework, so I'm going to sign off now and do some work. Then lunch, where I'll probably get accusations thrown at me again... If that happens, believe me, they'll be peeling bits of body off of the ceiling. I am just not in the mood.