So I was walking down my street the other day when I noticed an elephant standing infront of the temple. My reaction: "I know it aint!" and I pulled out my camera. Actually there were two elephants. I snapped a few pictures and moved on thinking that to be a great addition to my "animals of Bangalore" list.

Later that evening I heard a parade coming from the temple down the street. Usually the parades are really funerals and are going towards the temple, acutally the grave yard- so I went out to see what was going on. Elephants of course! And dancing drummers, and lots of childrend with fire and some horn players who never actually played the horns.

My advice for anyone who is going to live in India for any amount of time- let's say a person who sometimes enjoys a little peace and quiet- DO NOT live 1. In a poor/low caste neighborhood I'm telling you- they are lound just for the fun of it. 2. a neighborhood with a temple a graveyard or a mosque. 3. Have lots of earplugs.

Christmas is here

All in good cheer!

My human is evil!

Happy Christmas from
Buzz and Miss Evil Owner

I can't shake the feeling that the day before yesterday was something important. December 12- is it important for something I've forgotten? I keep thinking it's important.

Yesterday I thought "It would really suck to leave my keys here and be locked out when I got home."

And I was right, because when I got home I realized I had left my keys on my desk, right after thinking that thought.

Brilliant.

I know this means nothing to you, but if it's in quotes it is something that was said in a weekly team meeting.


LS JARGON TEST

Highlight/Mark the most appropriate answer.

1. If Tony “bubbled up” to Rachel would she:
A. Slap him
B. Greet him with a smile
C. Give him a blank look
D. Call security

2. “Tighten” is to “Righten” as:
A “Short sharp” is to “options”
B. “Warm” is to “hand off”
C. “Dribble dribble” is to “Spurt Spurt”
D. All of the above.

3. On August 15, “driven” was mentioned how many times between the times of 5:30 and 6:00?
A. 6
B. 9
C. 12
D. 18

4. In this statement: “You will be as close to you business as possible.”
“business” refers to:
A. Your SEs
B. Microsoft
C. Spectrum
D. You know, your ‘busi-ness’

5. Match the Quote with the initials of the person who said it:
_____ A. “I’ve been gone for a way long time.”
_____ B. “That’s madness I say.”
_____ C. “I don’t think these parameters are . . . good.”
_____ D. “Is this meeting going to go to 100:00 o’clock?!”
_____ E. “We have things that happen to us when we’re doing stuff and things.”
_____ F. “I want you to be able to recognize the smelly stuff when it’s thrown at you.”
_____ G. “Most calls have very little information of any interest.”
_____ H. “We’re struggling against things we don’t understand”

BS JM MO SH SP TP – two sets of initials will be used more than once

6. Rank these in order from most desirable to least desirable most desirable 1 being
the least desirable and 6 being the least desirable:
_____ “A whole mess of good things”
_____ “A little bit of somethings”
_____ “A steady something- (not a big something or a small something)”
_____ “Good stuff”
_____ “Small quiet things”
_____ “The things that are moving in my head”

7. If you hear a “Giant sucking sound” you should:A. Run for your life!
B. “Align your offerings”
C. “Tighten and righten”
D. “Role up into” something
E. Look “through a glass darkly”

8. True of False: “Bubbling up to” someone is the same as “Rolling up into”
someone.

9. Which of these is actually a word?
A. “Howfor”
B. “Linkages”
C. “Standupidness”
D. All of the above
E. None of the above

10. If something is “Not what it needs to be or should be or could be” what is it?

________________________________________________________________



Bonus: Write your answer on a separate sheet of paper:
Explain the analogy of the tool box and the hammer given to the wife for the anniversary given in the November 28 meeting.

alert
sexy
dumb
HOLY COW!
Something important I discovered this week: I can alter an infant size T-shirt(about 3-6 months) to fit my barrel chested little dog perfectly. (Isn't he handsome in a V-neck?) This is revolutionary, right up there with the day we discovered we could dress Kermit in construction paper at NCH!

walkie bits
http://www.dynamism.com/walkie-bits/main.shtml

Dear Support group

First, you can’t stop me! Nobody can stop me! I am even now gathering an army of knitters- together we will knit our way into the UN with me as Queen of the Knitting Nation!

Second, you mentioned “Thou shalt not read about knitting.” I would like to let you know that is a common mistranslation. It actually reads “Thou shall not read about quiffing” Which was an ancient game played by the most wicked of people. It involved a baby pig, large forks and a vast quantity of honey. I can’t go into more detail, it’s simply too horrid.

The church of no-knit no-purl has been missing out on the many blessings of knitting (and purling) for many years. And Mr. Dangly resents the implication of being involved in such a gauche movement.

Finally I’ll have you know I’m no novice I’m right up there in upper intermediate!

I shall not engage you on this topic any further- so please be quiet about it or I’ll knit you a muzzle.

What kind of knitting needles are you?

You are interchangeable.Fun, free, and into everything, you've got every eventuality covered and every opportunity just has to be taken. Every fiber is wonderful, and every day is a new beginning. You are good at so many things, it's amazing, but you can easily lose your place and forget to show up. They have row counters for people like you!Take this quiz!

http://www.quizilla.com/users/larissmix/quizzes/What%20kind%20of%20knitting%20needles%20are%20you%3F/

Some things I know how to say in other languages:

I think everyone knows how to say something in at least one other language. It’s a small world and so: here are some of the things I know.

I will give the English translation and transliteration since I don’t know how to spell them in the original languages (exept French, but why show off?).

“Go away you piss, you fat cow!” “Go vektin piss de fai de cou!”
Norwegian- thank you Susan.

“Holy Cow!” “Gava mogadash!”
Farsi- Thank you Mohammad.

“Throw the cow!” “Pitchai la vash!”
Thank you Monty Python French taunters.

There seems to be a theme here . . .

Knitting needles with lights in the tips! Knit anywhere...even in the dark! See each stitch clearly, even with fuzzy novelty yarns!

Size 6-10.5 measure 13'' (note the manufacturer does not offer a size 7) size 11-15 measure 14''.

Each needle is a different color plastic.
Batteries are held in the back needle knob
LED batteries (included) are extremely long lasting.

Replacement batteries may be needed at 400 hours of use.

OK! I'm going to shut up about knitting now but how fun are battery operated knitting needles?! Need them- must have them!

I just read an article about knitting- and really enjoyed it. I giggled at a few statements, recognizing myself in the author’s words- then I realized what a freakin’ knitting nerd I am.

I mean, who “really enjoys” an article about knitting? Who even reads them? How many people out there (raise your hands) have ever “recognized themselves” in the words of article . . . about knitting?

Let me give you the address of the article so you may enjoy it yourself- but I know you won’t!

http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEwinter04/FEATdontgiveitaway.html

Let me give you a few quotes I loved:

“I sew up the seams of the poncho and rather innocently wear it to my local yarn store on a busy Sunday, for maximum effect, and receive a compliment from another customer.

"Why yes, I did make it," I respond with false modesty.

In turn, I eye what she's buying and ask, "What are you working on?" and maybe she'll say, "Some Nordic mittens" or "A knit bear" or "A tweedy cardigan" or "Oh, just a scarf. I only knit scarves." But I'll immediately sense the sophistication of the yarns she's knitting together for that scarf, or wish I had plans to knit mittens, or feel the sting of the inherent practicality of a cardigan or imagine how cute that bear would turn out. I'm consumed with jealousy.”

“I delight in the thought that selecting this particular yarn and pattern will mean that I will need to buy more needles.
Perfect.”

“I don't want that project over this one, or think the grass is greener on the other side. I think all the grass is green everywhere, and I want to be rolling in knitting projects. I suppose this is why people have stash problems.”

I have a stash problem and it’s not my fault! You know who you are who fed my addiction and sent way more yarn than I asked for! I’m not even going to talk about all the yarn I have in storage.

If knitting where my only hobby things might be . . . well not under control, but at least manageable- but no- I also like to glue things together and paint things and cut stuff up just to sew it back together; and cross stitch and look things up then write stuff down- and take pictures and tell stories- and although it may not be evident most of the I sometimes organize things for fun!

Let’s get back to knitting. My current knitting projects:
1. Shrug/wrap- almost finished, just need to sew up the arms
2. Three scarves two of the same pattern- neither of them using the suggested yarn in the pattern.
3. Sweater which I started the day God told Moses his personal name, no where near finished.
4. Christmas stocking I may actually finish this weekend.
5. A very very very small beaded purse which may never ever get finished.
I’m knitting with needles the size of tooth picks!

Knitting s trendy- has it always been trendy? My mother was a fantastic knitter. She could knit anything she had a picture of- for some reason she never got around to learning how to read a pattern.

I can read a pattern-sort of- and I have the modern miracle of the internet to show me how to do the rest.

I am not a fantastic knitter- but I’m working on it.

my neighborhood

I took this when I first got here- just now figured out how to post it.

Funeral on my street

my first YouTube video- the funeral outside my building this weekend. Look for the dead woman I skipped right over for the band!

How I almost got killed and /or seriously injured this weekend:

1. Stepped in front of a vehicle- (Almost- very close this one.)

2. Got hit by a tanker truck- (Not hard, but still!)

3. Gas leak in the kitchen- gas line into the range burst into flames.

4. Got too close to a monkey-dog fight (I thought it was monkey dog- but it was really just dog-dog fight.) Here is a picture of me with the not monkey-dog-dog fight going on behind me.

I've never had a nose bleed.

I was watching a TV show where someone died of a nose bleed- I had to look it up to see if that was possible- it seems it is possible, but very rare.

Some nose bleed information which may come in handy some day:

If you get a nose bleed you should pinch your nostriles together and hold your head forward, while standing or sitting up.

If that doesn't work for you, you can use nasal sponges, nasal tampon or nasal balloon to apply pressure from the inside. (Nasal tampons-euuu!)

To reduce the chance of recurrent nose bleeds you can coat your sensitive nasal passages with vasiline or KY jelly. (KY jelly in you nose eeuuuu!)

You may also want to put more fiber in your diet- it causes blood to clot quicker.

In Japan old wives believe sexual arousement is sometimes a cause for a nose bleed.
If an anime character gets a nose bleed: it's a sex scene.

nose bleed

the anime version of an erection (well, in most anime thats appropriote for ages 16 and below), were a male character will bleed profusely from the nose when sexually excited. seeing that girls dont have erections and they cant show her panties getting wet, girls experience extremely red blush across their faces.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=nose+bleed

Attila the Hun died of a nose bleed just after his wedding. (How embarrassing and tragic at the same time.) He was drunk and choked to death on his own blood because he didn't pinch his nostrils and sit up. (Or is this just a Japanese wives' tale?)

So remember kids, if your nose starts hemorrhaging: Don't be like Attila the Hun after his wedding!

NV: I actually thought the feather was a challenge to the void; something to the effect of: if I throw this feather at you, you won't be void anymore and, aren't chickens smarter than voids b/c voids are nothing.

PK: I don't think chickens are smarter than voids, but I do think if the chicken indeed threw the feather; it was to show the void that it could be destroyed, as you mentioned. It wasn’t a void anymore... chickens are the voids of the animal world, so I think it's a pretty close race. If you threw a feather at a chicken, it would run.

Shannon
I think the chicken symbolizes modern man in his attempt to fill his empty "void" life;
and the feather is the chicken's knowledge that he really doesn't know anything- knowing is really realizing you don't know.

I think if every chicken suddenly disappeared from earth, that would be confusing, but that's beside the point.

Sergio
I think the void symbolizes modern man and the chicken symbolizes all those that came before him and so we each have our chickens to face; many of those chickens are direct relatives
some are related by marriage. Others are food which makes things confusing,
but no more confusing than a egotistical void.

An egotistical void reads the New Yorker outdoors at coffee shops.
I guess such a void would be full of itself.

Shannon
If a void was full of it's self, would it still be void?
Sergio
It would be a void within a void.
Shannon
No, we are the chickens.

The Chicken and the Void

The chicken stared into the void.
The void stared back.

The void said, “Chicken,
what do you see?”

The chicken said-
“nothing.”
“you’re a void.”

The void said, “Chicken,
you have much to learn.”

The chicken said,
“no, I don’t.”
“I’m a chicken.”

The chicken threw a single feather into the void.

Chicken = 1.
Void = 0.


What do the “chicken” and the “void” symbolize?
What do you think the author meant by the chicken’s gesture of throwing in the “single feather?”
What does “Chicken = 1” and “Void = 0” mean?
Why does the chicken tell the void he doesn’t have much to learn?
Why would the void ask the chicken what he saw in a void?

I rented a scooter last week. I haven’t ridden it much though on account of: 1. I didn’t have a helmet and 2. I didn’t want to crack my melon on the streets of Bangalore.

A catalog of things I’ve almost run into with my scooter:

A car
A motorcycle
A motorcycle with a man on it
A bicycle with a man on it
A bus
A cow
A temple
An open sewage ditch
A gate
Two teenagers

I now have a helmet- I will avoid cracking my melon.

Message from strange man:

hi
Message:
hello, i m manice from india, 29 years , male. I m married but i m seeking for a love affair realy. i m well qualified. if u have same mind set up and dont feel it as a taboo, then plz write me here **EMAIL ADDRESS BLOCKED**thnx

Message from me: No thanks hooker-man!

Thanks to everyone who participated in the unsolicited, but wildly popular "Pimp my Dog."
Buzz hates you- and me, but only when he's wearing the clothes. Lucky for us he doesn't hold a grudge.

mr.mohamadithe head of english institutemr

mohamadi willing to attract native english teachera and the maneger of this institute is eagerly abuot attration native english .this institute located in iran.facilitise:

1. free accomadtion
2. catering servise
3.sutible pay
4.50% is your ticket free(the institute pays it)
5. all facilitise do you need for comfortable life.

we wait for your cotacttanke a lot.

Mr. Mohamadithe,
I would do it (even with the obvious challenges) if only I were Canadian.

The Thanksgiving information I gave the folks I work with- probably much more than they wanted to know- but I can't help it if I'm full of information!
____________________________________________________________________

You will all be happy to know that one week from today (next Thursday, November 23) is the American holiday of Thanksgiving!

Be thankful that your call volume should be way down; nobody in the USA wants to work on Thanksgiving!

I’m sure you know some things about American Thanksgiving already, but here is a short refresher and maybe some extra information:

Thanksgiving is celebrated every fourth Thursday of November. Traditionally it is held to remember the harvest feast shared by the Pilgrims (the first English settlers in North America) and the Native Americans, also known as “Indians” which was held in 1621.

Through the years many people privately celebrated Thanksgiving as a time to thank God for all the good things in their lives. In 1863 Abraham Lincoln declared the last Thursday in November to be Thanksgiving; and a national holiday.

In 1939 it was considered improper to start Christmas shopping and decorating before Thanksgiving. In the face of a national economic depression, President Franklin D. Roosevelt decided to move Thanksgiving from the last Thursday in November to the third Thursday in November to prolong the pre-Christmas sales season and help boost the economy.

Many Americans were unhappy with the change in the holiday’s date and continued to celebrate on the last Thursday of November, calling the third Thursday “Franksgiving” Day. In 1941 it was decided by the US Congress that Thanksgiving day would officially be the fourth Thursday in November, which means sometimes it is the last Thursday, and sometime it is the next to last Thursday.

Thanksgiving is celebrated by inviting friends and family over for a large feast. The feast traditionally includes turkey, pumpkin pie, potatoes and a large variety of other vegetables and breads. On Thanksgiving Day many people enjoy watching American football games and/or the Macy’s Day Parade on TV.

Every year the National Turkey Federation gives the White House four turkeys. Two are prepared for the feast and two are named and then “pardoned” or set free by the President.
Last year the pardoned turkeys were named Marshmallow and Yam.

The day after Thanksgiving us called “Black Friday.” It is usually given as a day off from work (Yeah for you) so that people can spend more time with their families or pursue other activities. The most popular activity is shopping. The day after Thanksgiving is the biggest shopping day of the year. It is the official kick of to the Christmas shopping season.

Feel free to greet your customers with “Happy Thanksgiving” next week, and you can ask them what plans they have for Thanksgiving for small talk, as well as what plans they have for the day after Thanksgiving.

See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thanksgiving for more information.
(Canadian Thanksgiving was last month.)

Puggle: Noun is A. A pink, plush stuffed toy
B. A new dog breed which is a mix between a pug and a beagle
C. A baby platypus
D. All of the above
E. A word Shannon made up to mess with me

It’s a tough question, but don’t waste your time googling it, I’ll tell you the answer.

Believe it or not the answer is D.

I’m not lying, I have proof.
puggle 1
puggle 2
puggle 3

Well, that’s not really proof, but if you do google it, you will find these fine examples of puggles.

Puggle: An imaginary animal from the lost forest which eats slip peas and is apparently tasty in pies. Nearly extinct- lives in holes . . . and bags. For more information see:
Lost Forest

Puggle: a mixed breed of a Pug and a Beagle, gaining popularity- distained by real dog breeders. You never know what you’ll get with a puggle- maybe a mild mannered lap dog like a pug, maybe a hyper hunting dog like a beagle. Puggles like children (to play with, not to eat). Puggles make good apartment dogs, but you may also look into getting a “pocket puggle” if you have a very small apartment.

Puggle: a baby platypus.

Some unsolicited information on platypuses:

According to Aboriginal legend, the first platypus were born after a young female duck mated with a lonely and persuasive water-rat. The duck's offspring had their mother's bill and webbed feet and their father's four legs and handsome brown fur.

water rat
duck

Dr. George Shaw was pretty sure the platypus was an elaborate hoax (Played by . . . the duck and the water rat?) when he first encountered the animal in 1799. He named the strange animal platypus, unfortunately that name had already been used for some kind of bug, so the official name became “ornithorhynchus anatinus” meaning “bird-like snout whatchamacallit.”

You can have one platypus or two platypus or you can have two platypuses, but you cannot have a gaggle of platypi, that one is right out.

You can have a gaggle of geese, but there is no collective noun for a group of platypuses- they are loners and don’t want to talk about it further.

(The following is my favorite part.)

The term “puggle” is considered a colloquial term for a baby platypus, as there is no accepted term for platypus young. Puggle is considered unacceptable on account of it is a copyrighted word supposedly exclusively to be used for the above mentioned plush toy. If you insist on calling a baby platypus a puggle legal action just might be taken against you.

Let me repeat, calling a baby platypus a “puggle” is possibly (but I’m not for sure on this) illegal, but defiantly ill-informed.

Henceforth, when speaking to your friends and relations about baby platypuses, you should refer to them as “platy-pups.”

Other interesting things about platypuses:

Platypuses are monotremes, which means they find their food by means of electroperception. Which means they detect electrical fields generated by muscular contractions of their prey. “The platypuses electrorecption is the most sensitive of any monotreme.”
Wikipedia told me so.

Platypuses eat worms, insect larvae, freshwater shrimp and yabbies. (What the heck is a yabby?) A yabby is a crayfish, or crawfish, or crawdad, or as they say in Louisiana, a “mudbug.” I wonder if that is copyrighted.

When a female platypus is ready to lay eggs (the only mammal to lay eggs) she digs a burrow and makes bedding of fallen leaves which she picks up and brings in with her multipurpose tail.

The female platypus has two ovaries, but only the left one works. (Such personal information right here on the internet!)

The female platypus produces milk for her platy-pups, but she doesn’t have any teats.
Milk is released through pores in her skin. (So I’ve never been a boob fan, but given this alternative, I’ll stop complaining.)

Now you know.

There are some things which I, Shannon Peterson, will never understand. Among them:
Algebra
Why some “modern art” is acclaimed
Why my dog can’t stop himself from peeing in the house
The mysterious inner workings of the Indian Postal System.

I got a call this morning that I had a package to pick up at the post office and that I would have to pay 618 Rupees for customs. I haven’t had to pay for customs for any other packages (ignoring that ordeal with the FedEx package.)

So I went to pick up this special package that somehow got caught in the customs trap that all my other packages escaped. It was smallish- it looked innocent enough. The post office guy gave me all the forms- had me sign them, I gave him my money and he looked at the package and said, “What’s in there?” (Or something close to that, at least that’s what I think he meant when he pointed at the package and mumbled something unintelligible to me.) I got the indication that he was just as mystified about the special attention from customs as I was. I told him I didn’t know- I didn’t even know who it was from.

When I got the package I saw it was one of the long lost birthday packages mailed back in August. When I got home to open it I found two books and some Cheezits and Cheetos. Opening the box did not solve the customs mystery- I still have no idea why they pulled that one aside and decided to charge for it, nor can I understand why Buzz likes to pee on my dirty clothes . . . some mysteries may never be solved.

Here’s my Goa story:

Goa is the India beach hot spot- everyone agrees it’s the place to be on vacation- obviously I had to go.

I left Buzz with the son of my right hand and got out of town. I took the sea monkeys with me- I forgot to leave them with Buzz.

I had the guy from the guest house pick me up at the airport- he was also picking up another guest. When we both showed up we drove off to the village of Anjuna. Anjuna, it turns out, is where all the nouvue-hippies and Israelis hang out. When we got to the guest house it was dark. They showed us our rooms and I took stock of the situation 1. I had an attached bath, but no toilet paper. 2. I had large, well lit room, semi clean two beds, one outlet- no TV. 3. There was a market to one side of the house and a restaurant to the other side. 4. The beach was down the street. Everything seemed in order for a nice relaxing weekend of seclusion- I had my books, my knitting, my computer and some stationary.

The girl who came from the airport came into my room looking a little shocked and said, “Oh, your room is much nicer than mine!”

I said, “Huh, really?”

She said, “Yes!” and “Look at it!”

Well, it wasn’t quite as nice. Not so well lit- some cobwebs on the ceiling, but I didn’t want to volunteer to trade I was on vacation- my room was okay but I had no intention of down grading- mine was nicer after all but hers wasn’t so bad. She disagreed- she was sure she could not possibly sleep in such a room- anything could happen to her in that room.

She was nearing hysterics when she asked if we could share a room. I wasn’t sure- that hadn’t been the plan- but well I’m alone most of the time at home so why not share a room on vacation? So we became Goa buddies.

We were together the rest of the time. We went to eat- went to the market- went to the beach- then we went back to the guest house and started the cycle again. We got ripped off in the market, as should be expected in India. We laid around looking white at the beach- then we decided that Anjuna just wasn’t holding our attention.

We decided to go to Colva- it looked like a happening place on the map. So we packed up after the second night and taxi-ed down to South Goa. Colva is much larger than Anjuna- fewer hippies and Israelis. Beach-Food-Market.

The next day it was kind of cloudy so we decided to go to Old Goa- where the Portuguese used to hang out and force Indians to become Roman Catholics.
My new friend had met a friend on the flight to Goa. She contacted him and he took us to see the churches in Old Goa- and to an Island nearby. He was a local who had never bothered to look at the tourist places- apparently the task was taxing for him because he had to stop several times to take a few drags on his joint.

I was sitting in a car with two absolute strangers in India watching the driver smoke a joint, and listening to him reassure me that it was fine, he did it all the time and did I want some.


My Goa (Catholic) History:

The best church was Bom Jesus where the remains of St. Francis Xavier are present in a glass casket. (Ick.)

That guy- he was something else- he was about four feet tall, which goes to prove short people can do big things.

He was a cofounder of the Jesuits. In 1541 he left Spain to become a missionary in India. Then he was a missionary in Indonesia, Japan and China.

Now the weirdness.

He died on December 2, 1552. He was buried on a Chinese Island, then a few months later, dug up and moved to a church, then a year later moved to somebody’s house, then a few months later shipped to Goa, “having resisted extensive decay.”

Now- here’s what the tour guide told me, Xavier didn’t decay- first they buried him, but they decided that they were going to want to ship him off to India, so they dug him up he hadn’t decayed as expected so the dumped quick lime in his coffin. They expected after a few months that there would only be bones left making for easy shipping. But when they dug him out again he was still just laying there undecayed. So at that point it became a miracle the “living body” of a dead saint.

When they got him back to Goa they wrote to the Pope to ask for formal legislation concerning the sainthood. The Pope said he had to see it for himself and to send him to Rome. The converts in Goa said, “No! We don’t want to send him, India doesn’t get to keep anything!” (That’s what the guide said.) So they cut off his “blessing arm” which bore his signet ring and sent it off. The Pope agreed that it was Xavier’s arm and that it hadn’t decayed so he must be a saint.

The English get a bad rap in India- but from what I’ve read the Portuguese were a bunch of so-and-so’s too. Xavier requested an Inquisition in India in 1545. An Inquisition is bad news. It went on from 1560 to 1774- along the way thousands of Hindus were either converted to Christianity or tortured and killed. It wasn’t only Hindus, local Jews, Muslims and non-Catholic Christians were all so persecuted.

When the Portuguese got to India they were surprised to find Christians who didn’t know about the Pope. These were Christians using ancient practices and texts dating back to the first century- They referred to the tradition of Thomas the Apostle working in India. Those oh-so-curious Catholics burned the texts from these churches and killed the church leaders. “What followed was the literary holocaust of the St. Thomas Christian history and faith. Even the common prayer book was not spared. Every known item of literature was burnt and any priest professing independence was imprisoned.”

“The Portuguese let out their Negro slaves into the streets and as soon as they found a Hindu, they smeared the person's mouth with beef, making them untouchable in the eyes of other Hindus. Then they forcefully converted them.”

“The large Muslim population of Goa, was massacred and decimated by the Jesuits.”

“There was a large population of Jews in the Konkan region. Celebrating the Jewish Sabbath was enough to get a person burned at the stake.”

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goa_Inquisition

(I know wikipedia- but I've read the same stories in books and other web pages)

You may not know it, but many of you will be glad to know that Jan and Bonpie have received their package- thereby clearing the way for me to feel safe about sending packages to more people.

If you have sent a package- perhaps you will be getting your return in about a month!

I have received some “compliments” or perhaps just benign comments which remind me how other people view me.

Sometimes I look at people my age and think, “Do I look that old?” In my mind I don’t. Please no comments to the contrary- I like to believe my imagination on these matters.

I met a young woman while traveling and she asked me what kind of work I did. I told her I was a teacher. She said, “You look like a teacher.”

Now, in my opinion, there are some professions which may be noble and good and useful- I just don’t want to be pigeon-holed as “looking like” a stereo-typical member of .

On my list of professions I personally don’t want to “look like” are:
teacher
missionary
librarian
scientist
IHOP waitress
cafeteria lady
truck driver

I’ve worked as, or as assistant to all but two of the above professions. Actually I’ve known some very attractive people in these professions, but they are not the stereo-typical examples- they are a-typical, they are the ones about whom people say, “You’re a _________?! You don’t look like one.” And that is a compliment.

Similarly, there are some nationalities one may not want to be accused of being. This one varies from place to place and between situations. For example, in UAE I did not want to be called Russian- not because there was anything wrong with Russians, but because many of the Russian women in the area were known prostitutes.

This weekend someone asked me if I was from Finland. I said, “No.” He said that was funny because I look very Finnish. Honestly I don’t know what specific features Finnish people have, but in my imagination, which as I said, I like to believe, they are quite pale. Pale as in nearly see-through- hurts-your-eyes-in-the-sun pale with big blue veins. I get this image from seeing the tourists who would come to the beach in Cyprus, they were usually Scandinavian.

I know, I know not all Scandinavians are deathly pale and I’m sure there are some drop-dead gorgeous Finns- (can’t say I’ve known any personally) but the stereo-type . . .

Finally this Indian girl came up to me on the beach and said, “You are so milky.” It’s one of those things that yeah, okay-I know it’s a compliment in this culture- but it doesn’t translate well across cultures.

A white girl sitting on the beach doesn’t want to hear she is “milky.”

Indians have a large market for “fairness cream.” They take great pains to avoid getting darker skin. They use umbrellas on sunny days, they will fully cover to avoid the sun, the beach was more crowded at sunset than it was mid-day. Fair women in India are considered quite attractive. “Milky” is good, unless you are always “milky” and you are at the beach trying to look less Finnish and more Indian, when in fact you are neither one.

Tickle says:

You are Balanced-brained

That means you are able to draw on the strengths of both the right and left hemispheres of your brain, depending upon a given situation. When you need to explain a complicated process to someone, or plan a detailed vacation, the left hemisphere of your brain, which is responsible for your ability to solve problems logically, might kick in. But if you were critiquing an art opening or coming up with an original way to file papers, the right side of your brain, which is responsible for noticing subtle details in things, might take over. While many people have clearly dominant left- or right-brained tendencies, you are able to draw on skills from both hemispheres of your brain. This rare combination makes you a very creative and flexible thinker. The down side to being balanced-brained is that you may sometimes feel paralyzed by indecision when the two hemispheres of your brain are competing to solve a problem in their own unique ways.

http://web.tickle.com/tests/brain/index_main.jsp

This is Mr. Pistachio D. Dangley. He was born in a time of great tribulation- as a result he has deep emotional trauma (and a weak neck, but don't bring it up, he's sensitive about it.) He wears a fuzzy brown scarf to hide his neck- but nothing can hide his pain.

He acts out at the most inappropriate times. He's a pyromaniac and he's in love with a dog who doesn't know his name.

Under his minty exterior his bad through and through- even his stuffing is black-
I shall endeavor to rehabilitate him, but my hopes are slim for such a creature.

More on Mr. Dangley as he progresses through his treatments.

Yesterday was the big Divalli celebration- I went out twice to take Buzz- who was too nervous by all the goings on to do any strategic urination or defication- as a matter of fact he walked and poo-ed at the same time to save time in getting back to the apt.

There were constant fire works from 8 AM to 12AM yesterday. It was like living in a freaking war zone!

Today I'm sick- I'm guessing from all the gun powder smoke- ugh.

There are still some crackers going off today- but not nearly as many as yesterday.

I went to fine the scooter rental place today- but somebody gave me the wrong directions- or maybe I'm just blind- because I looked and looked and couldn't see it anywhere near where I was told it would be. Of course there's no listngin the Bangalore Yellow Pages.

I saw on line that I could buy a scooter for about $300. I should have thought of that months ago!

I'm hungry but I can't think of anything worth my effort to eat.

Being sick and scooterless sucks.

To feel homely away from home, come see the facilities we provide for you at resonalabe cost for a safe stay near M S RAMAIAH HOSPITAL . 24 hour security,with parking.fully furnished hall with TV and . . .

I don't want to feel homely away from home!

Indian personal adds are full of men looking for "homely" women, which here means they know how to run a home. (I think)

I'm doing scooter research because I really like scooters. I want one- a Vespa I could afford- honestly Twikes are out of my range.

Here is an informative article I read: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/10862/a_beginners_guide_to_scooters.html

I point it out because at the bottem there are comments, one made by Dr. David Leader, who says: "I am a serious scooterist."

Is there such a thing as a serious scooterist? Because just the word scooter is silly let alone "scooterist." That's just over the top silly.

I will now dedicate my life to being a serious scooterist. This shall be my goal hensforth.

There was an accident in my part of town tonight. I saw my first "rescue van." Which looked to me like a fire truck. A had brake failure and lost control and killed ten pedestrians.

Then the people who saw it were so upset they set the van on fire.

The whole store is out of my range of understanding- at least it would have been before I came here.

First- it killed ten pedestrians? That's a lot of people! I was just walking in that area yesterday. I could have been killed by a runaway Volvo! Just walking down the street minding your own business and then you and nine of your sidewalk buddies are gone.

Then- when do you as a shocked bystander go from horror at seeing what you just saw to burning the van that caused the accident?

I would like a twike.

http://www.twike.us/

I got some sea monkeys.

I have internet at home now-I have the power of the universe! HA-HAA!

I don't even care that it is now impossible to completely close my window- that there is a big fat crazy long grey cable running across the walk way to the front door that I will most likely trip over on a daily basis- I am on line! And I'm downloading Grey's Anatomy!

The world wide web is my oyster.

Dear Ms.Peterson,

It is the payment of the duty/tax amount that is an issue at the moment. I do realize that at this point of time the delivery of the shipment is of utmost importance rather than the payment. Though procedure requires that these duties should be billed to the consignee, I have instructed the clearance team to have this charge credited to you along with the other charges as well as gesture of goodwill. We’d definitely like to avoid any further delay on this shipment. You will be informed about the procedure to proceed with the clearance tomorrow.

Once again, I apologise for all the inconvenience you have faced during the last three weeks.

This is the Indian way of say- "Okay we're tired of being yelled at about this! Give us a freaking break already! Here's your crap now get off our backs!"

I shall have it tomorrow Inshallah.

http://www.dallas.edu/News_Articles/10YrReunion/index.cfm

my college is having a ten year reunion now- jeez!

well, it's not really 10 for me yet, but it's a small school, so they are inviting three classes 95, 96, 97

anyway I saw a picture of myself on the announcement site :) I look so studious

I just had a political argument. How silly of me. Admittedly I'm not politically inclined and since most people my age violently disagree with me I usually just stop listening and don’t comment. It is my opinion that no matter what a leader does in a time of crisis half of the population will think it was wrong. To be honest I’m just tired of every wrong in the world being placed on Bush.

She said: “Bush should not have gone to war with Iraq after 911.”
I asked: “What should he have done?”
She didn’t answer, so I kept asking, “What should he have done?”
Finally she said he should have done nothing.

So- when an iconic city of the Superpower of the world is attacked and thousands of civilians are senselessly killed, when the physical center of the government is targeted-then the leader of that Superpower should sit on his thumbs and say, “Gosh I wish that wouldn’t have happened.”

Makes sense to me.

My point was only I thought he had to do something. I’m not saying invading Iraq was the right something- but I also don’t think it was a totally wrong something. What happened in Iraq? 1. Lots of people got killed. – lots of people were being killed before we invaded. 2. Weapons of mass destruction were not found- well now we know right? If the UN would have been able to investigate in the first place it couldn't have been used as an excuse. 3. A cruel, murderous dictator and government officials were deposed and held accountable for war crimes and crimes against humanity. 4. Terrorists who may or may not have been aided by above cruel murderous dictator and government officials were at the very least distracted from further terrorist plans against the USA and warned that the Superpower wasn’t sitting on its thumbs.

I stand by the idea that he couldn’t do “nothing.” And starting with a known evil is better than waiting to get blown up.

If someone can tell me what he could have done and it makes more sense then:
“Nothing.”
Or
“He could have made up a pretend country and pretend people in that country and made a movie of a war and how we beat them up and won and shown it on the news” I will certainly listen to you and consider your point.

As long as I’m at it: Bill Clinton- liar, cheater, perjurer-- and anyone who doesn’t think he was serving his own self interests as much as W is must be delusional. A man who can not be trusted in his own home cannot be trusted at all.

She said it wasn't illegal to have an affair. Well why was he on trial? Seriously I was in Cyprus I missed the whole thing. Why did he perjurer himself if he didn't know it was wrong, and serious and illegal?

She said she would rather have a leader screwing his intern than one starting wars where thousands of Americans would die.

I thought (didn’t say because this gets to a point in an argument were people start looking at me like I’m an absolute monster) 1. Clinton didn’t have time to start a war as he was too busy lying, cheating and screwing. 2. Clinton didn’t have an occasion to start a war because his country wasn’t under attack. 3. (Here’s the monster part) Every soldier in Iraq was a military volunteer. They knew what they were getting into. I’ll join war protests the day there is a mention of a draft.

She said she was sure the USA would not longer be a country in 50 years.

She told me all the wrongs and I asked her how anything she mentioned was different than any other country in the world. She agreed they weren’t different- but the US was more afflicted.

Heck if it’s only going to last 50 years I better get back and enjoy it quick!

I was at the grocery store the other day desperately seeking salsa- well truthfully I had given up on salsa deciding to make my own- and was at that point desperately seeking tortilla chips- but that doesn’t just roll off the tongue does it?

I hadn’t been to that store before so I was going over it very carefully- taking stock of what was available. In the soaps and shampoo isle I noticed a little bottle of hair oil used to get rid of lice. As soon as I saw it my head started violently itching and I was thoroughly convinced I had all manner of lice bugs living productive little lives on my scalp and hair.

I threw it in the basket. I went on to find tortilla chips and maple syrup. (Score!)

When I got home I tried not to think about the community living on my head. ‘This is one of the things I do.’ I told myself. I start thinking about lice and become convinced I have it. My head starts itching and every little bit of dandruff is suspect. I then told myself to calm down because first I needed to have this stuff handy when I really did get lice and second, it’s hair oil I’d have to leave in for hours. I didn’t really relish the thought of walking around with totally oily hair. That’s kinda icky.

I threw the anti-lice oil in a drawer and started eating bad tortilla chips.

As the days pasted, my head got itchier- I saw more little white specks- and every once in a while I would go outside and see women sitting together like monkeys picking through each other’s hair . . . Yesterday I noticed a tick the size of Montana between Buzz’s toes. I burned it off, but it sent me over the edge, I couldn’t take it any more! I just knew there were lice bugs getting fat off my blood!

(Just writing about this is making my head itchy.)

Today I greased my head up with the anti-lice hair oil. I noticed the puja kits Hindus use to get themselves ready for worship came with lice combs. I bought one. I came to work today with slicked back super oily hair. J

Several people commented that I looked tanner today. I think it was the greasy hair that made them associate me with someone with darker skin. I now understand why so many Indians use hair oil. Non-animal oils irritate lice. It really gets on their tiny little nerves and they will start fighting and breaking up with you if you keep using it.

I know this is true because my first best friend, Mikey’s, grandmother told me and my mom so when I was four. I got lice for real when I was four; and my mom went to tell Mikey’s grandmother (because he lived with her) that she better check him too because he probably had it. Mikey’s grandmother said, “Black folks don’t get no lice.” My mom said, “Oh,” and “Who woulda thunk?” and “Why not?” Mikey’s grandmother said it was because the lice don’t like the grease black folks use to keep their hair from getting too dried out and nappy.

What a happy by-product no naps and no lice.

Most Indians ain’t got no naps- they have beautiful full straight black hair. Oiled hair.
I didn’t know why they oiled it- but now I get it. It’s the happy by-product they are after.

I wonder if that's why Bible people poured oil on their heads and beards too.

Customer: “What’s your name?”
SE: “Jeethu”
Customer: “G2?”
SE: “Yeah.”
Customer: “HA! Like R2D2!”
SE: “Uh- yeah.”

I dreamed the other night that my brother studied "Smith numbers" and that these numbers had something to do with medicine.

I've never heard of "Smith numbers" before.

So I looked them up on Google, feeling pretty sure there was no such thing.

Behold my error:

http://www.math.eku.edu/PJCostello/smith.htm

Smith Numbers

One interesting property of some positive integers came into existence because of a phone call. In 1982, Harold Smith called his brother-in-law, mathematician Albert Wilansky of Lehigh University, with the observation that his phone number was composite and the sum of the digits in the phone number equals the sum of the digits in its prime factors. Wilansky published this observation [6] and it was the birth of Smith numbers.

We introduce two arithmetic functions and then restate the definition of Smith numbers in terms of these two functions. Let S(N) represent the sum of the digits in N. Let Sp(N) represent the sum of the digits in the primes in the factorization of N. For example, Sp(12) = Sp(2*2*3) = 2+2+3 =7.

Definition. A composite integer N is called Smith if S(N) = Sp(N).

Well, I don't know what all this means, nor do I know what they have to do with medicine.

No work tomorrow! "There is a bandh (general strike) on Wednesday October 4, 2006 called by pro-Kannada organization."
Party on!
I guess it's some kind of state border dispute . . . whatever- another day off for me.

Most people believe that a grain of sand defined by the power drill laughs and drinks all night with a nearest freight train, but they need to remember how accurately another spartan reactor procrastinates. If a parking lot carelessly requires assistance from the feline bottle of beer, then a defendant around a minivan daydreams. A jersey cow about a corporation is resplendent. Any parking lot can secretly admire a photon inside the fundraiser, but it takes a real class action suit to derive perverse satisfaction from the annoying paper napkin. A stovepipe somewhat pees on the paternal short order cook. A ball bearing defined by the skyscraper operates a small fruit stand with a hockey player over the sheriff. A tabloid beyond the wheelbarrow caricatures a squid about a vacuum cleaner. A lover caricatures the fairy related to the bottle of beer, and a worldly chain saw figures out an apartment building. The pig pen from a sandwich seeks a movie theater from a blood clot, but some cough syrup from some football team barely organizes a fighter pilot.

I got this as a junk email - this is only the first paragraph there was more than page of this stuff . . . strangly enough the punctuation, spelling and grammar all seem to be correct.

The football boys.

The football boys came to me with a great story. I'd say a story worth at least the approximately $2.00 that I gave them. (FYI that is a crazy amount of money to give to people begging here in India, the general practice is to give not more than 5 or 6 Rupees which is about 15 cents.)

They introduced themselves as John, John and (don't remember the boy in red, but his shirt says "Christian Boys" and I thought that was cute. They told me they are good Christian boys. They told me their fathers were fishermen, but the water was too rough- and fishing wasn't good now. They told me they were very good football (soccer) players, and did I like football?

I told them I didn't really follow it. They told me their team could win a championship, but unfortunalty, they could not play. It was so sad. (They let me me know.) They told me the reason they could not win is because they could not play, and the reason they could not play was that (dramatic pause) they didn't have a football.

They told me that they could buy one and play if only they had 450 Rupees (about $9.00.) I told them I was not going to give them 450Rps. But I would give them some money- and if Igave them money they had to promise that they would not ask me for any more money the rest of the weekend.

They promised.

I have them 100 Rps. They were so happy! They promised they would dedicate the football to me- in a special ceremony and that the would always remember me when they played. (Great- dedicate a ball to me then remember me while they kick the crap out of it.)

Later in the weekend they had gathered around me again to follow me around the beach- and chat about their village and the Jesus statue on the beach and whatnot when another boy came to ask for money and they chased him away.

They were good boys after all.

Ok, yeah- I ate them- it would have been different (I think) if they had been alive, swimming around in the milk- but they were already dead- besides ants are considered a delicious snack in Guatemala.

I was having a snack last night. It was cereal. I bought some nice Muslix with soft dates and seedless raisins (it’s the little things you appreciate here.) I was enjoying it when I noticed little dead ants floating in the milk.

It is at time such as this you must make some decisions that reflect your inner most self.

I could have: 1. thrown a fit and ranted about ants in my cereal!
2. thown the yummy cereal away, disappointed to have lost my snack.
3. ignored the ants and continue to eat the cereal- figuring that I’d already
eaten some anyway.

What would you do?

hi mable
Message:
hi how ru i m an openmind tantra fre spirit from kerala in india. i wud like to ge tto know the wonderful realites withininspiring friendhsips. when u reach to kerala. pls send me an email on my id. **EMAIL ADDRESS BLOCKED** fel free to send me yr reply yr`s friednly tantrabliss

umm . . . no

Message:
ccvcvcvcvc

does this mean: consonant consonant vowel consonant vowel conconant vowel consonant vowel consonant?
or is that just the ESL teacher coming out in me?

well, it's not a roman numeral- I checked at http://www.guernsey.net/~sgibbs/roman.html

http://picasaweb.google.com/mabledawn

click the above link to see my new (I know another one!) picture web page
some day I'll settle on one I like and stick with it
I added it to my links under "picasa pictures"

Speaking of religion, Stephen Baldwin has a message for Cruise: Let's do lunch, with a little scripture on the side.

"On the Hollywood list of people I pray for often, Tom Cruise is probably No. 1," the born-again "Bio-Dome" D-lister tells Radar. "All I have to say to Tom is, God bless ya, I hope you're having fun. But I'd love through Radar magazine to throw a gauntlet down to Mr. Cruise. I'd love to break bread with him and pray with him, and I'd love for the Holy Spirit of God to reveal the truth to him. That would be an awesome thing."

Baldwin, who describes himself as one of the "new breed of Christians" who "are gettin' ready to kick ass in the name of the Kingdom," then beseeches, "Seriously though, can you put us together? Can we get a little sushi together? I'd like to give him a spicy Jesus roll."

http://entertainment.msn.com/movies/hotgossip/09-14-06_2

I went to Trivandrum this past weekend. That’s the old name- the new name is Thiruvananthapuram. I think they just changed it to Mock and Taunt English speakers.

But that’s just a theory.

It was so nice to get a way from the city- I spent the whole weekend sitting in the shade looking at the ocean, walking down the beach- playing in the waves, taking pictures of fishing boats (I probably have about 100 pictures of fishing boats.) swimming the pool, reading and enjoying the sounds of nature.

The airline let me know the flight had been pushed forward about an hour and a half before the flight departed. I was sitting in a restaurant waiting for my order when I found out I had 45 minutes to get to the airport. I was about to cancel my order when they said, “It’s ready!” I paid, and grabbed the bag and ran for it.

The airport isn’t that far way- but being that I’m in India- I just never know what’s going to happen next so I thought I better not chance missing this flight- I had to get out of town!

I put the food in my carry on bag and got to the airport in time to sit down and enjoy my lunch before the flight. I pulled the tin foil wrapped packets out the bag and realized first that there were too many packets. I opened the packets and realized next they all contained chicken. That was a sad moment for this vegetarian.

When we landed I realized I had been in such a rush to get to the airport I had forgotten to write down the name of the hotel I was supposed to meet the group at the next night.

I decided that I would just find a hotel, stay one night, check my email to learn the name of the hotel we were staying the rest of the weekend at and all would be well. A guy from the flight heard me telling the tourist desk agent that I didn’t have a place to stay that evening. He suggested a hotel and secured a cab for me.

When we got to the suggested hotel they showed me the room prices. The cheapest rooms (which of course they didn’t recommend since they didn’t have a sea view) were 90. I asked if that was 90 dollars, thinking that was pretty pricy. He said, “Oh, no!” (How silly of me to ask) “That’s 90 euros!”

I nearly choked- that’s a lot of money for India and a lot of money for Shannon.

I asked for a discount. He took it down to 70 euros- which is still about $90. I told him that was still too much for me and could he recommend a place for about $50 a night?

He told me to try Travancore Heritage Resort. So off I went in the taxi I had retained after seeing the price list.

I went to Travancore- and got a room. Then I checked my email to see where I would have to go the next day- I had to go all the way to Travancore Heritage Resort. I had just unknowingly walked into the resort 68 kilometers from the airport where we were going to stay for the weekend.

The first thing I did when I got to the resort was get lost. It was a pretty big place, and it was dark and I get lost going around a corner. The second thing I did at the resort (while I was lost) was fall in a hole and skin up and bruise both my shins and my right knee.

Obviously things were staring out well.

Buzz gets more e-press:
http://www.destefanis.blogspot.com/

Insightful words from this week's meeting:

"Good stuff" said 6 times in the first 1.5 hours. BS

"Things are going swimmingly." BS

"Is this meeting going to go to 100:00 o'clock?!" SP (not me)

"I want you to be able to recognize the smelly stuf when it's thrown at you." BS

"Standup-edness" BS

"We have things that happen to us when we're doing stuff and things." JM

"It's like, dribble-dribble-dribble-spurt! dribble dribble." BS or was it MS?
same-same


Let it also be known that we have approximately 10 hours per month alloted to tea and pee.
Tea is a diuretic. (makes you pee more often)

I got some of this: for Liars, cheaters and wrong-doers. I don't know what you guys are trying to tell me.

Instructions for use:
1. Engage stick
2. Bow head
3. Reflect upon wrong doing
4. Anoint thy lips with blessed balm
5. Rub lips together to boost powerful sin-purging action
6. Raise head and go forth cleansed from sin and ready to do-it-again.

Warning: Re-appy frequently especially during prolonged sin exposure.

Here is the letter I was told to send the to the Assistant Commissioner of Customs Air Cargo Complier, Bangalore:

Dear Sir:

Reference above mentioned AWB. I have received a package containing personal gifts from Daniel Burnham; Arlington, TX, USA.

Since I do not possess IEC code, request your good self kindly allow me to file the paper under Dummy IEC code.

Obviously I did not come up with this on my own.

Dwarfs are disproportionately short people.
Dwarves are imaginary short beings.
Midgets are proportionately short people.

“Dwarf” and “midget” are not PC but “little people” and “short statured” are.

There aren’t many “midgets” in the developed world on account of proportionate shortness is generally caused pituitary dwarfism- a easily treatable condition.

If you are 4’10” (or close to it, or shorter) you may be “short statured.” (In case you didn’t realize.)

It may be a medical condition.
OR
You may come from a short family.

JM Barrie, author of Peter Pan suffered from psychogenic dwarfism; which is cause by emotional trauma during childhood. His parents were terrible.
His adult height was 4’10”.

If you are short and want to connect with other short people, see
http://www.shortsupport.org for the short support you need.

So- another birthday-
I got one card in the mail and two through email. I got one package- and there's rumblings of another package being held hostage by FexEX. So much for may equal opportunity Bithday reminder.

Don't worry, I'll respond in kind and forget your birthdays too. Maybe that's the kinder thing at this age anyway.

Today I went to get my hair cut and colored. I got it colored medium brown- mostly just to cover my streak of white hairs.

I got it cut a few inches above my shoulders.

The salon recommened I come back to take care of my "black head problem."

Hmmpt!

Maybe I will!

In other news:

Buzz was viciously attacked by the neighbor's fluffy dog!

It was terrible, but not too terrible, at least he was only a medium sized dog- not one of those big street dogs. The mean fluffy dog pulled loose from his person and went for Buzz. I thought he just wanted to say a little doggie hello, but what he really wanted was a bite of weiner dog!

I beat the fluffy dog with my dog beating stick, until the dog beating stick tragically broke and the man who belonged to the vicious fluffy dog got ahold of him.

I checked Buzz over, he was missing a patch of fur, but no broken skin, so I figured things were okay.

Stupid fluffy dogs- you can't trust them. They look all sweet and innocent with their fuzzy little faces, then BAM! It's the tiny sharp teeth reaching out of that little fuzzy face to bite your weiner dog!

Buzz had a rough day- first the fluffy dog attack- then a funeral- I knew there had been one when I came back from the salon. There were flowers all over the street and Buzz was hiding in the corner when I opened the door.

I'm sure I've mentioned the funerals before - marching bands, fire crackers- large flower "float" for the dead person- it's like a mini parade and lucky me I live near a cemetary.

to me.

It is illegal to send anything marked USED items to India.

Don't send anything marked USED.

Apparently it doesn't matter if it in fact IS USED, as long as it's not marked used.

Moses illuminated:


Moses in the dark. I saw Michelangelo's Moses at St. Peter in Chains Church when I was in Rome.

He was in the dark. I tried to take some pictures but they wern't turning out so great.
I noticed a small box on the wall. For fifty cents I could "illuminate" Moses. I figured it was worth the charge. Then I could tell people I had illuminated Moses.

Michelangelo's Moses is pretty hot, aside from the horns.

The horns represent the glory of God which was shinning on Moses' face after he had met with God.

Horns represent power in the Bible.

Cecil B. deMille is said to have been persuaded to cast Charlton Heston as Moses in his movie-epic, The Ten Commandments, based on Heston's purported physical resemblance to Michelangelo's Moses
http://www.cptryon.org/hoagland/travels/stpeterchains/moses.html.

There is a chip on Moses' knee. (I didn't notice it.) Story has it that Michelangelo was so
in awe of the life-likeness of his own creation that he threw his chisel at the statue and yelled,
"Perché non parli? (Why don't you talk?)"

Michelangelo may have been crazy.

Michelangelo may have been gay.

Moses may be a self portraite of Michelangelo with a beard.

If that's the case, Michelangelo was hot.

Why are all the hot men gay?

Freud was in love with Michelangelo's Moses.

Freud was probably gay.

Freud was not hot. He may have done better with out the beard.
http://www.historyhouse.com/img/c/cocaine_freud.jpg

I've been reading Exodus. Exodus means “exit” in Greek. From Hebrew the name is translated “These are the names of;” which are the first words of the book. It’s intended not as a book separate from Genesis, but as a second part of it.

Moses, of course, is the main character; and if he’s also the author as tradition holds, he was brutally honest about his shortcomings.

Moses is an Egyptian name. It means “is born.” It is similar to a Hebrew word which means “drawn out” (of the water.)

Moses must have been a very interesting guy. Nothing is said of his childhood after he left his mother to live with Pharaoh’s daughter. Only when he was grown did he go out and kill and Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew.

Who was Moses growing up in Pharaoh’s palace? Was he truly like an adopted son (Prince of Egypt?) Was he more like a second class citizen or a servant? Did he always know he was Hebrew and what happened to Hebrews outside the palace? Or was the information sprung on him one day?

Did Pharaoh despise him?
Did Pharaoh’s daughter love him?

He was 40 when he left the palace and killed an Egyptian. Had he married? If he hadn’t, why not? Would no Egyptian woman have him because of his heritage? Why had he finally gone out to see the Hebrews? Was God leading him even then? Did Moses have a bad temper or was he just shocked by what he saw?

40 is the number for probation or trial (so some say.)

Moses was 40 when he left Egypt.
He stayed in the wilderness for 40 years.
He led the Israelites through the desert for 40 years.
He was on the mount for 40 days.

There’s plenty of other 40s in the Bible.

It rained for 40 day and 40 nights.
Noah waited 40 days after the mountains were visible to open the ark.
Isaac was 40 when he married Rebekah.
It took 40 days to embalm Jacob.
Joshua and Calab explored the land for 40 days.
Goliath mocked the Israelites for 40 days.
Saul was 40 when he became king.
David reigned for 40 years.
Solomon reigned for 40 years.
Elijah traveled for 40 days and 40 nights while he was fleeing from Jezabel.
Nineva had 40 days to repent or be destroyed.
Jesus fasted 40 days and 40 nights.
Jew were forbidden to give more than 40 lashes with a whip. They stopped at 39 incase they had miscounted. Jesus received 39 lashes unless they miscounted.
Jesus appeared over a period of 40 days after the resurrection.

FYI

I don't know what it means, but do think of the turtles!

Sometimes things just seem to accumulate.

Right now, things that irritate me are accumulating.

Last night when I got home at 2:45AM the gates to my apartment building were locked. Sometimes they are, some times they aren’t, depending on the mood of the guard.

So, I rattled the gates, like I do.

Usually I rattle once or twice and the guard comes out blinking sleep out of his eyes, none to happy to see me—Whatever, it’s my job to work late- it’s his job to let me in the gate.

So I rattled the gate, several times. Nobody came out to unlock the gate.

So the driver of my cab got out and climbed over the gate and went to wake up the guard. When the guard finally got up, he didn’t know where the keys were.

My driver had to find the keys.

The driver handed the keys to the guard. The guard looked at the keys like he was some idiot savant and unlocking gates was not his gift.

The driver took the keys away from him and opened the gate himself.

Then the driver told me in his minimal English to report that guard.

That I will do.

Yesterday I learned that I had received two packages.

I didn’t find this information from my company who had received them, but from the senders who had received delivery confirmation.

That irritated me.

I wrote an email to my company and told them I knew I had two packages, and I would be in in the morning to pick them up.

In the morning they called to tell me I had packages.

Duh!

I went to pick them up. They gave me one package and one letter. I asked for the other package and for my insurance card which was promised 40 days from my start date (86 business days ago.)

They said there was only one package and the card wasn’t ready yet. The card would be ready by this weekend, which is what they told me two weeks ago.

I told them I had been given confirmation that the other package had been delivered, and asked them where they supposed it was.

They suggested the post office.

I knew it wasn’t there.

I told them I’d be back on Friday.

They called when I was about half way home to tell me they had found the other package.

I seriously wanted to slap somebody.

I had ordered the missing package from a company in Mumbai. They promised it was delivered, but I didn’t have it a month later. I thought they were inept.

Now I know it wasn’t the company I ordered from (at least not completely) but it was the company that I work for who can’t manage to make a phone call or send an email to let me know to pick up a package.

One more way to make your dog hate you.

I need one!

The hired help must go.

During the last few weeks I’ve been feeling more and more uneasy (less and less easy) about my cleaning lady.

I mean, there are things which I really like about her, well, about what she does. I like that she does the dishes, she cleans the toilet and that she sweeps and mops the floor. Those are the things I like most.

The things I don’t like so much-
1. She doesn’t really make the bed, but she folds up the comforter every day. I don’t want the comforter folded up every day; I just want it to lie over the bed and look comfortable.

2. She leaves puddles of water on the bathroom floor- It makes the cuffs of my pants wet when I walk across the floor. I don’t like that. I don’t like it when she messes with my clothes- clean or dirty- I don’t feel right about a stranger messing with my undies. These are minor- I could live with them, or I could tell her to change these things, no biggie.

Then there are things which really annoy me, and they came to a head today. Maybe it’s because I never really had to share much- maybe I’m too selfish or suspicious-maybe I’m holding Indian workers to unknown-to-them American standards.

Here are some things that I think are not right at all:

1. She brings her family with her -often. I hired her- not her whole dang family! It would be different if it were just one other person. Maybe she wants to ask me something (she doesn’t know English) maybe she wants to go fast and get finished early- so I can see bringing one other person. But she’s brought all manner of people- all her kids (four of them) her sister, her nieces and nephews- not all at once, but 4-6 extra strangers in my house wandering around makes me nervous.

2. When she brings her daughter, she haves her ask all manner of what I deem inappropriate questions, in addition to the questions the daughter comes up with on her own.

(They aren’t really questions, as the question form is somewhat problematic linguistically, it does make things sound so much ruder.)

1. “My mother wants an advance.” (I was actually shocked at their forwardness when they asked for a month salary as advance!)

2. “We moved houses, give us bus money.” (FYI I already pay twice as much as an Indian employer would for the same work.)

3. “What will you do with these things when you leave? … We want them.”

4. “You will buy me a dress for my birthday.” (?)

5. “When you will leave this place?” (So we can have all your things?)

6. “Do you want this?” (Can I have it?)

7. “Where is your chocolate?”

8. “Give me some gum.”

9. “I’m hungry, give me some crackers.” (I gave her some and she said, “No, these ones.") (!!!)

Today her children went so far as to take some candy and gum. By “take” I mean steel. I know that candy and gum and minor offences- but if it starts there- does it move on to jewelry and electronics and money?

Her daughter has written in my books and made some very wrong stiches in my needle point.

I’ve had enough.

Last week I wondered how it would go down if I told them not to come back- as they lived just across the street and I saw them everyday. But now they have moved and take a bus- that makes it easier for me.

Now- how to convince them not to come back?

Because I’m nonconfrontational I feel like I need a reason- (in addition to I don’t want them in my place any more) and how to explain it so they will not try to convince me otherwise?

They are annoyingly persistent.

One day they knocked on my door for a full hour. (I didn't feel like being cleaned that day, and they weren't scheduled, I didn't feel compelled to answer.)

Bangalore is a city under construction. It’s booming, and the booming is ugly.

Every place I look there are piles of cinder blocks, granite blocks, bricks and bags of cement mix. There are piles of rocks and piles of gravel and piles of dirt and piles of sand where the small rocks have been sifted out of the piles of dirt. There are stacks of iron reinforcing bars to go into the cement. There are piles of cement mixed and in use and piles of support beams to hold up the buildings which will go up at any given time.

There is a constant rhythm of hammers pounding things into place and pounding them out of place. Nothing is wasted. There are men in dirty little skirts squatting with rocks and hammers and chisels cutting through the reinforcement bars, one at a time. There are women with huge platters filled with rocks, bricks or dirt balanced on their heads- transporting it little by little to the required destinations.

Bangalore is dirty.

The pollution rate is twice that of any other city in India.

In Dallas the pollution hangs like sludge on the horizon lending brilliant colors to the sunsets. The pollution becomes a lens of beauty for 30 minutes everyday.

I haven’t seen the horizon since I’ve been here- there are too many buildings- and I haven’t made it out of Bangalore.

It’s time for a change.

I realized that I had reached my breaking point the other day when I discovered my “tan” was really just oil based pollution settled on my skin.

I got some lotion in a package. Naturally I proceeded to put the lotion on my poor old dried up toe. Then I realized I had a bug bite on my toe, so I scratched it, scratching some of the lotion off. I went to clean the lotion I had scratched off out from under my finger nail and saw- to my great horror- that it was dark brown! It was brown like fertile soil- soil I could have grown award winning zucchini in.

Well- that just my toe. Of course my toe has some dirt on it, I only ever wear sandals.

I looked at my “tanned” arm suspiciously . . . it never had looked right, but when I tried to scrub it off with soap and water it never came off.

I lotioned up my arms and scratched my tan off to reveal more fertile soil.

It seems the oils in the lotion caused the oils in the “tan” to loosen up.

I need to see the horizon.

I need to get out of the city.

I have some trips planned- I need to plan some more and soon.

My cleaning lady brings her daughter with her sometimes. She likes to play with Buzz, as long as he doesn’t bark at her, or touch her.

She likes to ask me questions, which I think half of the time are questions her mother wants to ask me, but she doesn’t know English.

I was trying to read and her daughter was coming up with all manner of questions that she could not contain:

What are you doing?
Why are you doing that?
What is this?
What is it for?
What did you have for breakfast?
Are you Christian?
What caste are you?
When is your birthday?
Do you want this?
Why aren’t you married?
What does the dog have?
What time will you go to work?
How long will you stay here?
Will you celebrate Christmas?
Do you cook your own food?

It’s not easy being so interesting.

“Watch this space further out.”

That’s what I was doing at the beginning of my shift- I won’t mention how long- I’ve heard of people getting fired for revealing too much about work activities on their blogs.

Which- to be sure- I think is crap. FYI anything I say on my blog may or may not be wholly or partially true or not true.

Take that and rewind it back.

The planes were flying low and quiet past the gap in the buildings I was facing as I drank my tea- chai to those who think that’s a cooler word- which means in Hindi- tea.

“Watch this space further out.”

It’s like a Biblical warning. It seems significant- yet I have no idea what it means either in or out of context.

The context being an email from my boss about his boss coming to meet the team.

Meet and greet.


“Watch this space further out.”

Like a farsighted voyeur.
Like alien onlookers from the outer limits.
Like me and the planes-
I was further from my desk space, outside, watching the planes.

YouTube is great! Thanks EA for getting me addicted!
I'm so planning out a Buzz video already! If only I had his extensive wardrobe with me.

Burger the angry cat

This is why Buzz is afraid of cats!

Panda

I fear this is the type of mother I'd be . . . munch munching along day dreaming of- you know stuff and things when suddenly I remember I have a baby! Ahhh!

I've been going through my pictures. I decided I need to organize. I've been using Picassa, which is a photo editing program from Google. And Blogger is from Google, so they are linked.
I can post pictures directly from Picasa. (Now I know, since I just posted this one.)

I decided to post this one because it seems I'm facinated with the Coloseum. I have tons of pictures of it, especially the inside. Maybe I'll share them with you someday.

Someday when I've finished organizing!
 

It's so many doxie butts it blows my mind!
http://www.hotdogblog.com/modules/newbb/viewtopic.php?topic_id=3035&forum=8

The Miniature Dachshund Creed
1. If it's in my mouth, it's mine!
2. If I like it, it's mine!
3. If I can take it from you, it's mine!
4. If I had it a little while ago, it's mine!
5. If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way!
6. If I'm chewing something up, all the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks like mine, it's mine!
8. If I saw it first, it's mine!
9. If you are playing with something and put it down, it automatically becomes mine.
10. If it's in the same house I'm in, it's mine!
11. If it's broken, it's yours!

Okay this is the last dachshund tidbit, but can you believe there is an entire page dedicated to the fact that dachshund paws smell like Fritos?

sad but true- grown people sniffing doxie paws . . . Fritos . . . mmmmm I gotta to sniff my dog!

http://www.hotdogblog.com/modules/newbb/viewtopic.php?topic_id=2740&forum=8