Monthly Archives: January 2009

A People’s Holiday

A Brief History of Martin Luther King Jr. Day

“This is not a black holiday; it is a peoples’ holiday,” said Coretta Scott King after President Ronald Reagan signed the King Holiday Bill into law on November 2, 1983.

I Have A Dream

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Rolling Stone

Good grief! Talk about a blast from the past. Remember these guys?

I swear I do not smoke pot!

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2:00 a.m. Confessions Of An Insomniac

It’s time to come clean. I’ve been doing this for far too long, and all the secrecy and sneaking around is beginning to wear on me.

I strive to be a good and decent person, but I am only human, so it’s inevitable that I will sometimes falter.

The time has come to get this out into the open: to clear my conscience and let my readers, friends and loved ones know what kind of a person I really am. So I am removing the mask, revealing my secret, and confessing my sin.

Late at night, when I’m alone and have trouble sleeping (which is most of the time) I slip out of bed, lock my bedroom door, switch on the television and watch reruns of House.

I know… And you probably thought I was just smoking pot or something. If only it were so benign.

Dr. House is an amazing character. He’s arrogant, obnoxious and condescending. And that’s on a good day. Typically, he harasses and deliberately humiliates his subordinates; having nothing but contempt for authority, he treats his Chief of Staff in just about the same way. Only, with Dr. Cuddy, he heaps on an extra layer of humiliation with constant reminders that, given the choice between following her instructions and following his, the rest of the staff will defy her every time.

House is crude, abrasive and egocentric. His bedside manner is appalling: he shows absolutely no sympathy or compassion for his patients, and in fact, routinely criticizes and insults them, blaming them for their illness or injury and attributing it their own stupidity.

He is a bitter, unkempt, misogynistic curmudgeon who makes no secret of his addiction to Vicodin. He indiscriminately swallows handfuls of pills in front of, well, anyone at all, even his patients, and he has his subordinates write prescriptions for him.

If he were real, and you met him in person, you might want to punch him in the face, even if you weren’t prone to violence. He’s rude, thoughtless and downright mean a lot of the time.

He uses unconventional and risky methods for diagnosing and treating patients. Informed consent and doctor-patient privilege are meaningless to him; the ends justifies the means.

Dr. House cannot be trusted to keep a promise, a secret or even an appointment.

But you can trust him with your life, and you can take that to the bank.

He’ll do anything and everything to save and cure you, if only to prove that he was right and to earn gloating privileges.

But I think there’s more to Dr. House than meets the eye. Behind the mask of confidence, self-assurance and independence, he has a need to be understood and validated, liked and even loved. The problem is that he’s terrified of all these feelings, so he denies them and mocks anyone who suggests that needing people is anything more than a gross character flaw.

House is the good guy and the bad guy, the hero and the villain. You love to hate him and hate to love him.

Kind of makes me wish I smoked pot.

Posted by Lottie — Copyright © 2009 Rambling On


On the Ball

My back hurts constantly. Stretching helps, but sometimes I just can’t seem to stretch enough. I’ve imagined that doing back-bends would feel good, but I wouldn’t dare try it for fear of paralyzing or killing myself.

Then I thought a yoga ball might be just the thing!

I rarely spend money on things I don’t absolutely need because, quite frankly, I rarely have it to spend. yogaball-main_thumb2But as I was walking into Walmart this afternoon, right at the entrance where they display various sale items, was a shelf full of yoga balls in just my size. The balls come with an exercise guide and an air pump, and they were on sale for only $10! I couldn’t pass it up!

I managed to ease myself into the position illustrated here and it was everything I had hoped it would be, and more. It stretched not only my back, but my neck and chest as well. It felt great!

I’ll probably be a little sore, as with any new exercise or stretching routine, but this could be just the thing for me.

I’m thinking about getting one of these next. My butt would love me!


Knackered

I had today off. Well, sort of.

Since I didn’t have to work for my employer, I decided to catch up on a few projects around the house. By the time we finished school and everything else, I was more tired than I usually am after working (for pay) all day.

I’ve just finished the dinner dishes and still have several things to do before I can collapse for the night. I wanted to take a few minutes, though, to thank everyone who keeps checking in even though I haven’t been posting much lately.

I also appreciate the nice, supportive emails and I will catch up with those as soon as I possibly can. Just composing these few lines has been something of a challenge, and I prefer to answer emails when I can give them the attention they deserve. Right now, I’m asleep at the wheel.

That’s about all I’ve got left in me for tonight. I’ll close with another photo from Funnyville. It illustrates perfectly how I feel right now, and I think my dear friend and chosen sister will appreciate it.

Hope this makes you smile, Bonnie! I’ll catch up with you in morning.

warmcat


Brought To You By Funnyville

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy

I was recently accused of maliciously and deliberately setting out to inflict emotional pain on someone already in crisis. It was further insinuated that this is something I do routinely for the sole purpose of entertaining myself, as if I derive some sort of twisted pleasure from watching other people suffer.

I take particular issue with this accusation because I most certainly am not the kind of person who would even wish harm on someone, much less set out to cause that harm.

I don’t even wish suffering on those who have hurt me most in my life. At times I even hurt for them, knowing that they will never experience, much less enjoy, some of life’s simplest pleasures, or understand the deeper meaning of “tea for two”.

Because these accusations run so completely contrary to who I am as a person, I cannot bring myself to let them go unchallenged. Writing also gives it a sort of physical form, making it easier to process and providing a place to “put” it all. Perhaps other writers can relate.

So, what the hell happened anyway? Continue reading