Monday, Monday ver. 830.01 (but written on Tuesday)

Ahh, fresh java made from real beans that aren't New Jersey snarky.

Woke up today in fine fiddle, but without an internet connection, mostly. Spent most of today without much of one.

Been peeling open mail, on the phone hither and yon, been to the grocery, talked to Bram(bo,) washed the car (yes, I repeat - I washed the CAR.) Worked on the website development, was invited to be the instructor of record nationally for mortgage courses by an online company, listened to a tax client freak out totally because the IRS sent him a dunning notice, and shredded a bunch of "stuff."

More trip reports:

My Aunt Kay, who's the size of a green bean and is always worried about her weight, told me just as she was leaving that I looked five months pregnant and needed to do something about my weight. My Aunt Jackie, who's a bit larger at a stalk of asparagus, said that they were worried for my health.

Not that they asked about my health at all.

After two days, my assembled aunts began to criticize my sister's cottage; a stain on a table cloth, a slight depression in a gravel walkway, etc. If it's not perfect (in their taste and viewpoint,) it gets a turd bomb. I was also informed Saturday evening that I should take the (volunteered) responsibility of preparing the evening meal AND cleaning up, which carries the statement that I needed to make up for what I had not yet done.

Saturday morning, my stepmother launched this turd bomb - my flight Sunday left ALB at 0630; that meant a checkin time of 0530. Being an hour away from the airport, it meant leaving the cottage by 0430, and arising at 0330. My sister's partner had volunteered to drive me (us, my cousin was also going) at that hour, and said she loved getting up that early. This was confirmed before I traveled up there, and twice while there.

At the breakfast table (where I was not) my stepmother announced:

1. It was unreasonable for me to require carriage to the airport at that ungodly hour
2. If I were considerate, I'd offer to take a hotel room near the airport and stay there overnight
3. However, if I were to make such an offer, I'm so irresponsible that she would end up having to pay for it

Later that morning, said partner o'my sister and I headed into town to pick up more .. something food oriented, and she said she was looking forward to having some alone time at their home in town to recover from the endless, shrill talking (my words, not hers) and commotion that she'd been dealing with for three days. She WANTED the time away, and taking me to the airport was the excuse.

My stepmother, therefore, made up a problem that didn't exist, created a solution for the non-existent problem that suggested , since hadn't proposed it, meant I was thoughtless, and then added on a SECOND (or was that a third) assertion that I was thoughtless and imposed on others unreasonably for not having the ability to pay for the solution to the non-existent problem (although she never asked if I could or couldn't.)

On the same car trip with my sister's partner (SSO for sister's significant other) I asked what their plans were for the holidays. She replied that they (she, my sister and her son) were headed to my dad's in Ocala for Christmas, and that they were likely just staying home for Thanksgiving.

For years (and I mean .. twenty) I've felt hurt and punished because I wasn't invited to these family events. HELLO!? (hits self with clue by four) THESE PEOPLE ARE OBSESSIVE NUTBALLS. Would I *want* to spend Christmas with my judgmental, brutal stepmother? Uh, no thanks. How about just dowsing myself in lighter fluid and voting Republican instead?

Less painful.

SO - FREEDOM from feeling like I'm not part of things. WHOO HOO!

I'll just hurl in unrestricted love bombs from afar "oh, here's an XM radio for your car .. just was thinking of you." "Oh, here's another $150 in hardcover novels - I've already read them, but thought you'd enjoy them." "No, I'm so sorry I can't attend - I'm busy launching another website."

Drop the shackles and step into the sunlight.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes.

So, while gone in the land of enforced social contact, I had lots of time to reflect when I wasn't trying to block out the cacaphony of three aunts and a stepmother talking simultaneously and endlessly about nothing at all. Some of the things I reflected on were:

• Things I'm no longer willing to put up with in myself
• That I need to work a lot harder
• I am committed to executing on my (unwritten) business plan to have my website(s) support me fully by the end of the year
• I have a TON of work to do to make that happen
• I was going to start with the mortgage exam prep and mock exam course for that

So, there it is. A few days spent contemplating the exam prep and mock exam; talked to Tom about it yesterday, made some other steps. Then, last evening, I have an email from a client who asks "don't you have an exam prep course?"

Uh, not yet, but soon. He wants to buy a copy.

Today, I have a scheduled call with the people on the east coast; oh - just as an aside, would I be willing to be their instructor of record as they roll out into forty some other states? On retainer?

Yep.

I got in two of the lamps for the outside yesterday; two more are in transit, I guess. The eBay seller isn't writing me back anymore.

So, lots done today, and nothing done. Craziness.

I'm reading a book about the influenza epidemic of 1918-19 in which nearly 675,000 people in the United States died. It's fascinating from any angle. I hope to finish the book tonight.

Okay, I'm tired of writing and tired of sitting here. I did write up the "Standard Sugar Daddy Agreement" today - everyone who's seen it has been floored.

Sunday catch up

Oct 18, 2006

At Camp Casa Luna

Cassayuna, New York

The dozen or so family member are assembled outide on the patio, talking about real estate, assembling a complex puzzle, reading, knitting, and some inside cleaning up from lunch. The tree are blowing shit everywhere, including something that seems to have landed under my “S” key, making my typing rhythm somewhat difficult.

Here on the lake, there is no cell signal at all, and no cable, television signal, television, DVD player, and a rotary dial telephone with limited service. It’s enforced socialization.

Earlier today, Edgar, Sam and I trekked into Greenwich to pick up a few things and re-visit the nearly abandoned railroad yard in town. It was refreshing to have a few minutes of relative solitude. In a few hours, my stepbrother arrives from New Hampshire, and the birthday celebrating begins. Tomorrow morning, about 1/3 of the guests leave, and then I’m out of here at 6:30 Sunday morning.

The flight up was very nice. Bram dropped me off at Intercontinental, and I had an hour before departure when I hopped out of the car. Nearly fifty minutes in line for security – no one seemed to know anything at all about where to go, or the fastest way to get through. The side of the security lines that I chose had only one lane open. I walked up to gate C16 and was there just in time for final boarding. The plane was a nearly new 767-224ER that’s usually used on overseas routes; I was in the second row of coach, against the window wall, but had no window at my seating position. I was seated behind a couple who were very nice, and serious recliners. They both knocked back as far as the seatbacks would allow seconds after rotation from the runway, and kept their seats in the oral surgery position until landing. Next to me was a funny little guy who kept twisting and pushing up to see out the window (which was a row behind us,) and pulling on his crotch. I mean – PULLING on his crotch. Over and over. I kept wondering what sort of condition would make one’s penis that uncomfortable.

Walked off the plane at C76, right on time, and left out of C101A, which was a walk of one gate to the main terminal, over one pier, and out to the first gate. I barely had time to pee and they began boarding the XJT flight to Albany. Those Brasilian Barbie Dream jets have not been holding up well – I remember well when they all came into service five to seven years ago, and they look like .. well, like my sister’s car.

Since our arrival in Albany, I’ve been stripped of my normal internet access, except for a daily jaunt into Greenwich, which allows for intermittent signal. I’ve been checking my email using my Treo, and only answering those emails which were vital. Fun stuff.

I cannot remember a family gathering (for this family, anyway) in which there were no hostilities. Amazing. Perhaps it’s the six vats of cheap white wine.

Their lake cottage (called a “camp” up here in upstate New York) has bats galore. At dusk, one can see them swooping out of the furnace vent – dozens of them. They’re fun to watch, but one has to wonder about all the bat guano that’s deposited into the attic and the furnace unit.

This afternoon, my task is to shuck thirty-six ears of fresh corn. Later, I’m sure that there will be clean-up duties; tomorrow will involve quite a bit of cleanup to assist after the departure of the first 1/3 of guests.

Will there be another trip into town tomorrow? It’s hard to say.

This cottage is just as cute as it could be; they have worked so hard on this place. Most of the neighbors’ places look like Green Acres, complete with junked 1977 Plymouths and other dead appliances as yard art.

It’s almost time for today’s big afternoon nap.

August 20, 2006

Newark Liberty (how noxious) International Airport

In search of a wireless connection. And a decent cup of coffee; I seem to be in a nasty coffee zone. Four dollars and two cups of coffee later, none of it is drinkable.

So, it’s been since the 16^th that I’ve been able to nab and internet signal and actually connect with my world. I’ve been able to check email occasionally using my Treo, but that’s imperfect.

It’s a sunny, brilliant day here in Newark, after strong rain at Casa Luna that lasted all night long. The rain continued this morning until I dashed inside at the Albany airport for my 0630 flight – at 0540. I was up this morning at 0330, waiting until 0410 for my cousin to get out of the shower so I could finish getting ready. She’s an interesting study. The whole family is, actually. They’re lovely people, especially when we first get together. After a few days, though, the turd bombs start coming fast and furiously.

As my aunt Kay left yesterday morning, she advised me that I really needed to lost weight, as I looked like I was five months pregnant. Then, my aunt Jackie chimed in saying that they were only concerned for my health. Mind, they never ASKED about my health, only assumed that it had to be bad since I was fat. Last evening, I volunteered to cook, and the same aunt suggested that I should clean up after also. Since I’d not been helpful enough up until then, of course. Yesterday morning also, my stepmother volunteered to the group assembled that it was unfair of us to impose on Debbie to take us to the airport at the ungodly hour of 0430, and we should find a motel near the airport. Then, she assumed (verbally, for everyone’s enjoyment) that neither I nor my cousin Jay would have the money to do that, and they’d end up having to pay for it.

Interestingly, Debbie was looking FORWARD to taking us to the airport, as it would give her several hours of solitude from the four days of eight to sixteen Hords talking over each other endlessly at a high volume.

Debbie and Wendy have a smashing lake cottage; it was featured on the first page of the living section in today’s Schenectady Gazette. I picked up a copy in Albay’s airport. It’s quite the article.

Newark Liberty is very international this morning – Peter Max is here at gate 110, ElAl has a 747-400 parked at B61, Singapore has a brand new A340-500 tits up with a busted #1 engine at B59. Virgin has an A340-200 over in lower numbered B gates. The airport is already busy as you can imagine, even at 0800.

I’m now headed back to the land of air conditioning. I’ve been damp for five days. They don’t use ceiling fans. They have the windows open – I had to ask someone what that meant. They don’t use air conditioning in the CAR for god’s sake. They do have XM radio, but that’s … IT.

Who made this coffee? Die Hard by Sears? Yurg. I’m giving up on the java idea and heading toward the gate for some wireless signal.

Am I wireless now?

CRAP - the people in Stafford sold the damned car.

More after I get back to the land of air conditioning.