23:51 - 02/21/2009
Control
Tonight the cats were in seriously blissed out mode for no apparent reason. That's in stark contrast to a week ago. In the wee hours of the 11th, the very dignified and reserved Ms Kitty was literally yowling at the top of her lungs non-stop. I had fallen into a deep sleep and took some time to wake up, but she wouldn't stop. All the other cats were crowded in my bedroom behind her, until I got out of bed and followed her. I was a bit spooked by the odd mob action - cats being fiercely independent thinkers who shun herd behaviours. So befuddled was I, that I texted my youngest, who was out at the new pool hall, asking him if he was outside the house trying to get in. Maybe, I pondered, he forgot his keys and Ms Kitty was trying to help him. I even opened the front door and peeked around the corners of the house and down the street both ways to see if that was the case. Meanwhile, the cats had all herded together, in their closely knit group, down the stairs to the basement after having escorted me to said front door. No son out there, so I stumbled back to bed. Come the early hours of Friday the 13th, apparently NORAD and local emergency operations came within seconds of issuing a warning of the impending impact of a pick-up truck-size piece of space debris within our city. The detritus from the collision of those two space satellites late on the 10th. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I guess Bruce Willis must still be on the job, because the local newspaper reported that the debris veered away at the last minute without hitting any populated area. Guess everyone in this city won a lottery, of sorts, that day. I don't know why the state of bliss tonight amongst the felines, but maybe this time I will find that something this way comes that brings great happiness instead of potential destruction.
There has been a lot of happy news from family and friends the past couple of weeks. Two wedding dates set, one engagement, a new baby born, and some positive health outcomes for a couple of people. That's all good too. Means I've spent some time on that on-line ancestry site updating the information. Also spent a lot of time on the computer transferring music from my stacks of cds into my music files. My youngest found a way to fix my ipod,you see, so that I can use it again. I could still carry a discman and the cds with me when I travel, but they are so heavy and bulky. I already have enough to carry to work, but with travel times sometimes lasting a couple of hours, along with extended wait times, I really do need something to bliss out on myself. Besides that, I have already encountered some attempts to stream or limit internet access for Canadians to different global sites. Even on youtube for heaven's sake. One night, I wanted to listen to "The Boss". I was just in that frame of mind, you see. Happily sang along with a few of his tunes and then tried to play "Born in the USA". A message came up that that particular song was not available for listening in the country I lived in. Say what? I've purchased that particular song several times - breakage, scratches and sons who love the same music, all playing a part. There is certainly no limitation on how many times one can purchase it for personal use and it is a frequent choice among radio djs in this city, but I'm banned from accessing it on the internet??? It isn't the first time that has happened either. Trying to find some European musicians/band has come back with the same results. For example, I happen to love Phil Collins' music when I'm in a certain frame of mind, but some of his work is blocked too.
You know, I've raised six sons on my own, held a couple of jobs at a time to support those boys, and invested thousands of hours of volunteer time into local, national and international community development. I think I've proved my competence many times over to make my own decisions about my life choices. I don't care what other people think I should choose - that is none of their business nor is it their right to set themselves up as arbiters of "it's for your own good". Who the f*** do they think they are anyway. I'm so tired of people in any part of my life deeming themselves better judges of my own good, than me. I'm the one who has and does have to deal with the consequences of my choices, whether related to my health, my home, my work, or my leisure activities. Ditto for what I read or listen to, or what my faith and values are. I started working when I was a very young teen and have never stopped supporting myself or helping out with family whenever I've had the means or resources to do so. My IQ score measures very high, not that that should make any difference, so just maybe I know more than a few things that the "power over" parties don't. I haven't tried to reciprocate, because I frankly don't need or care to have power over anyone else. We are each granted our own lives to work through - by free will it seems. I often wonder if those who are power-over junkies are those who want to avoid facing their own demons or responsibilities by projecting them onto to others who they rationalize are somehow "lesser" than them. Choose any stereotype, be it race, ethnicity, faith, gender, age or income based (so-called "class" aka the nouveau riche)for justification, eh. End of rant, for now.
I haven't written for the past week, because I was in a fairly negative headspace. I had promised myself not to indulge in that kind of thinking so was trying to work through it without burdening you, dear diary. Part of the problem might have been that I was still sick from that food poisoning at the very end of last month. Just after the last assignment I wrote about last post, I found that I was really sick for the next three days. Even missed Valentine's Day with A+. The whole idea of getting out of bed, much less eating, was just too much to handle. We did spend time together after that and it was wonderful though. He was watching me watch a music video at one point and commented on the unexpectedness of my musical tastes. I am eclectic and choose based on my moods. What had caught my interest in that particular clip was that the male dancer was using belly dance choreography. It looks so completely different when a male uses those steps. Because I dissected human cadavers when I was at university, I can still visualize the different layers of muscles, as well as their interaction with the skeleton, while watching someone move in their daily activities. I finally saw, in one of his dance movements, that it was the way the spine lay in it's orientation to the much smaller pelvic girdle - that is the norm in adult males - and the consequent way the rectus abdominis muscle attached to the pubic bone and the abdominal obliques attached to the iliac crest, that was what made such a difference. Not that I discussed any of that with A+. Not really a romantic type of observation after all, is it? Hmmmm.
Going back to the negative headspace though: what really threw me for a loop was that I had no assignments scheduled for eight full days after that last assignment. Since I am the sole consistent source of my support, and since the wage I make is barely enough to pay the bills even at full time hours, I was in a panic about what to do about the situation. I e-mailed the manager who does the scheduling to ask if I had done something wrong. He responded that I hadn't, but still would not add more hours to my work load. It wasn't until the assignment I went to yesterday that I learned that most of the senior staff have all been treated the same way, while the newest hires and those who are under adult age have been given more work than they can handle. A guess would be that the management is trying to reduce operating expenses by only assigning work to those who make the least in wages per hour. Don't know what to do about that. Yesterday's assignment was odd, but only in the behaviour of the manager of record. I'm still trying to puzzle that one out, so I don't think I'll write about it right now until I have more information. Speculation is a dangerous hobby for one's mental health, isn't it dear diary. Good night for now.
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