Thursday, May 30, 2002

Bored? Check out "My Cat Hates You" on the Weird Web links below for more entertaining pics like this one. -Jeeem-

Wednesday, May 29, 2002

I have neglected to post my experience of eating lunch with neighbor Louie....

Last Sunday we went to the Weirs Beach Smokehouse. Yuck. I have no experience as a restaurant or food critic, but the place reeked of biker hovel. The buffet lunch was a brunch of sorts with a combination of breakfast items, seafood Newburg and pasta shells. Yuck. I settled for the seafood, a couple of pasta shells and some rice and found the Newburg to be very salty, with bits of mussel shell to crunch on. Yuck.

I was polite and pretended to like it since it was Louie's idea and his turn to pay. Yuck. The highlight was a rather young, bold, green-eyed, attractive waitress who admitted to being hung over and was very friendly. The decor? Blah biker. I won't be returning to that place.

Stay tuned for my next review when I get to pick the restaurant.

-Jeeem- (The new restaurant critic in town....)

Tuesday, May 28, 2002

Bill is at it full bore now.....he has moved his land-raping device and is now scouring the earth, further defiling mother nature and creating more noise pollution than ever before. I am angry, yet I know I have no other recourse than to move. My land is surely devalued now that I live across the road from a junkyard and a section of raped earth, full of stacked tires, gas cans and other junk. He is attracting the jerk down the road now too. Noise makers tend to flock together, gravitating to each other so they can rev their engines and belch tons of oil smoke into the rural atmosphere. -Jeeem-
What a delightful conversation I just had with my good friend Eve Smith who lives in Durban, on the north coast of South Africa. We have so much fun together and she is such a delightful person inside and out. Eve refreshes my perspective on life and today, a rather drab, sickly day, was made brighter by her womanly touch. I have sidelined Eve as she finally got her blog going! It seems Eve is a night owl, keeping the oil lamp lit until early, early in the morning. She gives an interesting account of my name, from perhaps an Afrikaans perspective and comes up with the summation that my name is Zulu. Pronounced Jheimmm or some such thing....Ah well, I will forgive her then for her placing me in the unlikely neighborhood of Vancouver.....Canada perhaps?

I have thus decided that Durban will be my next conquest in travel. A mere 12,780.43 South African Rand.......pocket change! Ha! Eve possesses the remarkable ability of Ballroom and Latin American dancing and says she is going to teach me how. I can't wait as it has been a dream of mine for years to learn. We discuss many different things and it is refreshing to see her perspective on things, from say a different "cultural" twist, although Eve's thoughts and perceptions are not that different than my own. We have much uncharted ground to cover yet.....

"worked my way to the switch that adds sound to the place, then to the wc where I finally recovered on the loo, wondering what day it was" God how I love the sound of that...I can't wait to hear her accent. Accents are funny, they either turn me off totally or totally turn me on. Russian does NOTHING for me, nor does the German accent usually, depending on who is speaking it of course. Most of those are harsh. Austrians tend to soften the tone a bit and add that French twang to it. Or perhaps that is just my imagination. I was a radio operator for well over seventeen years and got used to the different accents, finally being able to tell where a person was from, just by their accent.

Paramaribo, Suriname was my favorite. I used to always speak with Suzie, 73-AT-103 (Ah sebenty treeee ah alpha tango ah one ah cero tree!) I always knew Suzy's sing-song accent the minute she came on. The dutch names were impossible to pronounce....kinda like names of towns in Wales....too many consonants or something.

Anyway, back to Eve....she has pulled me in totally with her story of the loo paper wad...kinda gave me an interesting visual. But, the story about the eggs.....

“ Do you have rubber chickens in the kitchen, or do your chickens mate rubber ducks?” Holy smokes! I thought I'd never stop laughing. I can tell Eve and I are gonna have a blast in South Africa....hell, they'll be talking about us for years to come in Johannesburg and Durbin. Did you know Johannesburg has a zoo? Somehow I can't see the need for a zoo in it just me?

Gotta go to bed....a new day tomorrow. Perhaps in the morning I will attempt to recover on the LOO! -Jeeem-

Monday, May 27, 2002

Have you seen that new commercial touting the slowness of dial-up modems? I mean seriously! Can you imagine someone complaining, "Oh drat! My dial up modem took a whole fifteen seconds this morning!"

Get real!



I gotta get me one of these!

A Sigmond Freud action figure!

Whew! I just got good news.....Shirl doesn't have a lawn ornament. She's got a "balcony" ornament though. Seems she has not fallen prey to the dreaded Michigan addiction that plagues a good part of the rest of the nation......Lawn Ornament Addiction. Be careful though Shirl! Balcony ornaments can be a symptom of worse things to come! -Jeeem-
Greetings! It's Sunday and I'm sick again. Yep, this time I've got an upper respiratory ailment. Wonderful. Just as well though, as my "neighbor" across the street is into some serious macho revving of the chainsaw lately. Bill is his name and junkyards are his game. He's got this big, rusty, piece-of-junk-called-a-backhoe parked on the piece of land he is molesting, cutting every tree in sight and working his way into the forest, up the hill behind my quiet neighbor's land. He shows up almost every day, parking in the street across from my humble abode and begins creating a terrible din of noise pollution with every imaginable piece of gas powered equipment he can get his hands on. Truly annoying.

I've been a good neighbor though, allowing him to use my hose to flush out a mouse who had nested in the radiator of his "piece-of-junk-called-a-backhoe." I even talked to him. I don't trust him though, as he is one of those "Flatlanders" who asks one-too-many questions. He's from the West like me. Funny though, as I can see how much I have changed, becoming a suspicious, callous New Englander, cautious to give too much information and staying to myself. Guess I'm a true New Englander now. Bill has shattered my peace and quiet you see.....him and the jerk down the road who buzzes by here on a day-to-day basis on his little gasoline powered toys. I think it is time to think about a move. I've got equity now....finally.

Enough bitching. I am advertising a new blog - webpage - ezine that I just stumbled across. Didn't even know it was there. Banshee Studios it is called and Caitlin is one of the editors. Cool site and nice works to read. Speaking of reading....

When I am at a loss of what to write, I read. This never fails to stimulate my neurons to begin firing again. Lately I've been reading, "Troublemaker and Other Saints," a collection of short stories by Christina Chiu a Chinese immigrant. I'm on a Chinese author kick now that I've returned from my two week jaunt in Beijing, China. I've also ordered, "Son's of Heaven: A Novel," by Terrence Cheng, which had the following review:

Anyone who has ever seen the photograph of a young Chinese man standing before a parade of moving tanks, waving his arms in the air as if he had the power to stop an army, has probably never forgotten it. Although the student uprising at Tiananmen Square in Beijing was 13 years ago, the photograph of the unidentified man standing before tons of rolling green steel in the name of democracy inspired Terrence Cheng to write this novel, which does not tout opposition to Chinese policies but, instead, captures the very human side of political turmoil and its inadvertent destruction of families. Writing from the perspective of the dissident student, his brother the soldier, and China's leader at the time, Cheng paints a tragic picture of what happens when brothers are caught at opposite ends of the spectrum in a place where clear-cut loyalties are not a choice but a requirement. Packed with emotion and desperation, Cheng's novel speaks for a man who needed a voice. Elsa Gaztambide
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

I can't wait to read that one. Amazon just makes it too damn easy with only a click here and a click there.....and it's on your doorstep. No wonder my finances are screwed up.

It's not just books I read that stimulate my writing, it's blogs too. Shirl (or somebody) got me to thinking about my Cub Scout days today......

When I was a young kid, joining the Cub Scouts was the thing to do. So, trying hard to not be any different than the other kids (even though I was), I joined. Well, unlike the other kids, I found that wearing a uniform was not my bag. I had no pride in it and was constantly being scolded for not wearing the uniform right, forgetting my scarf, unbuttoning too many buttons and not wearing my cap. Besides all that, I didn't seem to want to BE SQUARE and I certainly did not want to OBEY THE LAWS OF THE PACK.

I had to practically be seduced into going to my "pack meetings" and I hated my den mother. We got together and went over stupid rules, read boring crap from a boring manual and I cringed as other "cubs" were nominated for various awards of achievement and praised for their various promotions. I never got past the rank of bear nor did I care to. I didn't care to advance to the much coveted rank of Webelos. The wicked den mother's son was a Webelo. Nathan thought he was a hot shit too, not only because his mother was the den mother, but because he had achieved the coveted rank of Weblos. Big deal. I discovered that Webelos not only wobble but they fall down too.

One Friday afternoon my mother dropped me off at the pack meeting amidst my kicking and screaming protest. Once inside the "den" I was immediately humiliated because I was dressed in inappropriate attire for the field trip we had planned that I was supposed to have known about. They took me along anyway, partly because they couldn't reach my mother on the phone. We started out on a well-worn path at the foothills of Mount Franklin and quickly advanced to the less frequently traveled horse path into the depths of the mountain desert landscape.

I was actually having fun until Nathan decided to drop his Webloid-ass back a bit and continue to badger me about my attire.

I was a quiet kid, smaller in size but not in temperament, for in the back furrows of my mind I was fighting a battle of an alcoholic father, low self-esteem, physical abuse and lots of sleepless nights. All I usually needed was a little tormenting to throw me right over the edge and so Nathan obliged. I lurched along the trail, taking Nathan's onslaught, blow by agonizing blow until I had had enough. I honestly didn't know there was a cactus behind him.

I pushed him....HARD.

The field trip had to be cancelled that day because Nathan had to be taken to the hospital. It seems he landed smack dab into the middle of a prickly pear cactus, eighty percent of his body coming into contact with the spiny needles. His legs happened to find a Spanish dagger cactus, becoming impaled in three or four places. Aside from the obvious, the greatest worry for Nathan was the Spanish dagger, which at the time was reputed to be semi-poisonous. Served him right.

Needless to say, I was kicked out of Cub Scouts.....Permanently.

I was all of nine years old and already I had a reputation, which would prove as the years wore on to only get worse. I was the only kid at that time (in 1965) to get kicked out of Cub Scouts, as far as I knew.

I was happy on two counts. I never had to wear that stupid uniform again and I got even with that mealy mouthed milquetoast of a den mother's son.

Ah well, another sordid story in the Anderson files......



Saturday, May 25, 2002

Oh boy....I think I killed another lawnmower. If so, this will be the fourth one in, HOW MANY YEARS? I just can't seem to take proper care of them. So, consequently, a quarter of my lawn looks fairly decent, the rest is approaching jungle stage.

Once, many years ago, while renting in a mobile home park, I came home to a note plastered on my door, which read, "Mow your lawn or we will charge you per day for poor appearance" or something to that effect. It was that very note that roused me into home ownership. From that day forward, I vowed to own my own property so that I could live any old way I wanted. Hell, I could let my lawn grow to nightmarish lengths and nobody could say anything.

So, now that I own my own home I have found that as lazy as I can be, my pride begins to edge into the limelight and I desire a well groomed lawn. So, herein begins a new battle of - THE LAWNMOWER WARS - Presently, I have a lawnmower graveyard out back. I'm wondering if I need to add another body to the pile.

My neighbor Louie and I have decided to ditch the breakfast routine for a while and begin the a lunch club. So, we're going out to lunch tomorrow and gonna try a new restaurant every week. This ought to prove interesting. We alternate on who pays the bill, one week me and the next week Louie. I'm glad we decided to have a change of venue as I was getting a bit tired of breakfast. Tomorrow? Chinese buffet in (It's his week...hee, hee).

My project today is working on the woodlot out back of my house. I have this new, tiny, battery operated chainsaw that is anything but macho. It's good for cutting limbs and heavy brush and the like. Which brings to mind a conversation I overheard the other day.....

A woman was talking about her husband using the chainsaw.... "He always thinks he has to REV the engine! You don't have to rev the engine, you just cut the wood and give it gas as it needs it. Men always feel they need to rev the engine..." Hummm. You know what? She's right. My neighbor across the street does it. I listened to him yesterday, revving the engine several times before actually cutting. Me? Well, it's hardly even worth it with my chainsaw. It's pretty hard to appear macho with a tiny chainsaw with a six inch bar. Oh well, I must be getting old.

I have a nesting pair of tufted titmice...or is it titmouse? Titmouses? Titmices? I think it is titmice. Anyway, they are a young, teenage couple. Spiked crests, small frames and very, very playful. They chase each other to and fro and use my yard (their yard) as a playground. So, added to my repertoire of yard animals are Bonnie & Clyde (the titmice) and Alvin (the chipmunk). Soon, without a doubt, will come the snakes, the grey squirrels, the brown squirrels, the hummingbirds and the occasional wild turkey or partridge. Daisy the Rotweiler next door doesn't count. -Jeeem-
First off, for those of you who are wondering.....I am feeling better. I made it to work today....almost went back home at one point, but finally made it through the day. Before I left work, I happened to pick up a newspaper and this is what I saw at the bottom of one of the back sections:


Lawn ornament?

This story (AP) was about a 250 pound California Raisin Lawn ornament that was stolen from a Greenville, Michigan FRONT YARD.

What the hell do people in Michigan decorate their yards with? Why..... two hundred and fifty pound raisins, of course!

Holy crap.

Lawn ornament addicts.

These people start out with pink flamingos and graduate to larger, more garish items. Here in New Hampshire we have the famous "Lawn Orb."

Lawn orbs are in the same category of flamingos but flamingos are kinda a warmer weather lawn ornament. Lawn orbs are a shiny, reflective, red, blue, yellow, green or other shiny metalic color and sit on a concrete or plastic pedestal. That's it. They claim they attract humming birds but I swear I've passed them numerous times and never seen a hummingbird within miles.

Lately, we've had an outbreak of fuzzy bear ornaments, Canadian geese ornaments, children standing in the corner ornaments, duck ornaments and the occasional lawn elf. Only the true lawn ornament addict buys them.

Do you have a neighbor who qualifies? Do them a favor. Get them help.

The woman whose lawn raisin was stolen said, "I'm just heartbroken over it."

Some kids found it in the parking lot of the school and returned it to the heartbroken couple Tuesday night.

Hell, you ask me....that's probably where it belongs.


Thursday, May 23, 2002

Okay, I've been sick. No, REALLY sick. Yucky sick. Been out of work since Monday. I had to go to the doctors office today because if you are out longer than two days, you need a note for work. Well, it was like this:

Day 1: Humm. I don't feel that hot. Should I go in? Hummm. (Create mental image of Jeeem pondering) .....hummmm. NAW!

Day 2: Whoa Nelly! I feel like crap! (Gag, gag, gag, -spit- *cough*- I'll spare you the sound of diarrhea.) Holy cripes, I think my KARMA got me cause I called in Monday.

Day 3: Oh my God. I have to go to the doctors. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to wake up. I don't want to move.

Day 4: Pending

Day 5: Pending

So, I go to the doctors. It's only ten minutes away, but I haven't left the house in two days. I drive, but it's like surreal. It's like I'm driving and all but like I'm sitting above it all looking down watching myself. Things move slower and everything seems just really unreal and happening way too fast for me. I get there and immediately feel like I just used every ounce of energy I owned to drive there. They make me stand in front of the little sliding window and wait. They ask me the same stupid questions they always ask me. I want to sit down. Hell, I want to LAY DOWN. Please, please stop asking me questions and just let me collapse somewhere.

Finally, the barrage of stupid questions stops and I collapse in the chair. I am splayed out. I don't care. My mouth is open. I don't care. I have trouble moving my arm up to scratch my face. I just let it itch.

"Jim?" the very large lady crammed into the very small white uniform says.

I walk to the voice. She wants to weigh me. I have to steady myself when I stand upon the scale. I am sure she will be shocked to find I have lost about 90 pounds.

She points out that I have gained weight since my last visit. I hate her.

We go into an examining room. The large lady takes my vital signs and takes way too long doing it. I collapse on the female exam table that crinkles every time you move on top of the big toilet paper roll. My legs dangle off the table at the knees. I fall asleep and I'm dreaming of a nest of birds fighting on the eave of my porch.

The nurse practitioner comes in.

The doctors just do the important stuff nowadays. The nurse practitioner is nice, but lectures me WAY too long on the dangers of dehydration, hypovolemia and hypokalemia. I am a registered nurse but they don't know that. Registered nurses are not EXEMPT from poor nutrition and poor diet.

I get my excuse slip. I stumble out the door. I drive home in a dream.

Later, I muster up the energy to scrape my research paper crap into my bookbag and drive to school. Crazy you say? Well, being that if I miss class I can get dropped because I've already missed my ONE class I could miss, I DON"T THINK SO! So, bookbag in hand, I stumble out the door and attempt the much longer ride to college, about forty-five minutes away.

The drive sucks.

Our "class" is now only four people. All others have dropped. This class has a reputation for being the hardest class at the college.....even above statistics. I find I am not doing so bad. I'm bitchy though. I am asking questions and getting clarifications when one of my "younger" classmates says,

"You are making me confused," in relation to the questions I am asking and the terminology I am using.

"No, I am not MAKING you ANYTHING, you are doing that ALL BY YOURSELF," I say, slipping into my counselor mode.

"You are right. You are not making me do anything," she says, cringing.

Then I felt a little guilty for snapping like that. I wanted to say, "I am sick and bitchy. Don't mess with me. Just let me ask my questions and get out of here." I end up not apologizing to her and you know what? ..........I DON'T CARE!

This girl is one of THOSE. She's sweet really, but nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof, worries about everything and jittery as hell. I'd classify her 309.24 Adjustment Disorder with Anxious Mood and prescribe her a good smack of Xanax, about 0.5 mg four times a day. That ought to do the trick.

I managed to get out of that class tonight and actually feel pretty good about how my research project is going. I even got to discuss my new idea for a degree plan. I am planning on looking into a graduate program for writers or customizing a literature degree plan after I obtain my bachelors in behavioral science. I'm psyched, even though I am sick. I am just one of those individuals who never found out what he wants to do when he grows up. Oh well........somebody diagnose me...PLEASE!

Shit! I missed South Park.


Monday, May 20, 2002

My friend Eve Smith in Durban, South Africa is opening her own business. Her menu has more selections on it than I'm used to, with exotic items such as:

Creamed Zebra sorbet
Shaved Rhino Ice
Strawberries and Monkey
Gazelle nut
Caramel jungle

Yumm! I can't wait taste em! I made a feeble attempt to place her logo on my Paint program and turn it into a .jpg but came up with this HUGE white space. Oh well, not bad for a beginner.

Oh, just kidding about the new flavors. My fingers are crossed Eve!

Cheney: Attacks 'Almost a Certainty'

Oh if we didn't have anything else to worry about. Wonderful.

Well, I created a bit of havoc at the local hardware store today. Seems I left my propane tank's valve open when I left it to be filled. I returned later to have Fran, the owner, tell me a few old ladies had flown into a panic. Probably thought Osama Bin Laden (a household name here in the U.S. now) was gassing us. Well good. Got their blood flowing a little I guess.

My friend Anne Charmaine who lives in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia says it is stifling hot and humid in Southeast Asia right now and she tells me it is the same way in Europe. "I bet you're jealous," she says. Nope. Today, the sun is out, it is around 13 degrees Celsius and we have a cool breeze blowing. Anne must have read my posting about our spring snowstorm. Sorry Anne, I'll take a snowstorm any old day over that oppressive Southeast Asian heat and humidity.

Anne is a yogurtaholic. She dreams not only of eating the stuff, she talks of swimming in it. Yogurt diving it is called. A new Malaysian sport event, no doubt. She spells yogurt with an 'h' like, "Yoghurt," and today I found that to be another, correct way to spell it. Me? I'm a meataholic. Mheat is an incorrect spelling. I barbecue meat, bake it, fry it, broil it, saute it, stir fry it, grill it, boil it, crock pot it, simmer it, steam it and live for it. My Weber is still smoking. Got me some barbecued chicken thighs, mustard greens slathered in butter and sour dough biscuits for dinner tonight! Hell, I'd swim in it if I could. Meat diving? Whoa! Let's not go there.

Louie just stopped by telling me he was gonna take me out for Chinese food. Poor guy's gotta drive down here to get ahold of me cause I'm perpetually online. I told him I was all set with my Southern dinner tonight but I'd take a rain check. He's got me working on a personal's ad for a companion. I'd love to see Louie with a nice lady, so I've placed an ad for him. Details to follow...


Sunday, May 19, 2002

I have Comedy Central now and can FINALLY watch South Park.

Just watched the episode where Cartman gets a governor's pardon from the juvenile facility after being locked down for a hate crime.

I love this stuff

Mark of "Potkettleblack::Potkettleblog" is in merry ole' Ireland and already he has pictures coming back of his trip.

And what wonderful pictures they are. Mark sure has a way....not only with words, but also with a camera and a photographer's eye!

Nice stuff Mark....enjoy your trip!


Saturday, May 18, 2002

I have fun going out to breakfast with Louie. He's a fun guy. We harass the waitresses and they harass us back. Being the bit of an introvert that I am, this is different for me. Louie is an extrovert. He knows just about everybody who walks into the place, pausing to chat with folks and taking the time to introduce them to me. I love watching the people and eavesdropping in on their conversations. Today, the topic was the weather....

The snow is heavy and quickly sticks to the ground. Everything is white again, reminding us of the power of Mother Nature. Contrasts outside the window of people walking into the cafe, wearing shorts and passing flowering bushes and forsythia covered with snow. It's pretty but it does a tune on my head as I was already planning to mow the grass this weekend.

It's still coming down outside and my "lawn" is covered in a blanket of white. Zippy is wrapped into a ball on the couch and it is silent here, a winter wonderland outside my window. Immature maple leafs curled in protest. Grey squirrels scurrying up tree limbs to the comfort and warmth of their nests high above in the branches. I watch my little Chipmunk friend whom I have affectionately nicknamed Alvin, scurry across the stream heading into my pond, careful not to get wet. Using my binoculars, I watch him stuffing his cheeks full of seeds and such, nervously looking about. I wonder if this weather has the animals in a confused state.

I have that research project to think about and I know all the avid readers of Jim's quiet musings are probably sick and tired of hearing about it. I'm a procrastinator to the nth degree. When I don't want to do something, I can find SO MANY things to do OTHER than what I need to be doing. Then at the last minute I'm in a scramble to slap some crappy thing together that I end up becoming ashamed about. *sigh*

Well, better get started.....


It is snowing here

It is the 18th of May

This is not good

I gotta hit the sack, but before I go I just wanted to close out the day with this cool pic.....

Oh, just thought to mention....

I added a site meter to this blog


another reminder that my newly added jeeembord message board is down at the bottom of my blog.

Probably had call waiting and had one of those damn Catholic Priests on the other line.



"You there?"

"Oh...yeah, well it's me....Jim Anderson"


"No, 'O' not 'E'"

"Texas....El Paso...stole the dirt bike from Steve White in 1972?"

"Glasses, dropped out of nursing school in '77?"

"Nope, don't know him....."

"Ran out of Woolworths without paying for my hamburger in '78?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Well, sorry to bother you an' all but .....and don't take this wrong or nuthin' cause I know you're busy an' all but..."

"Did you forget to turn off winter in New Hampshire?"

"Damn! He hung up on me!"

I have a Weber Barbecue Grill

Therefore I AM.

So, the folks out there who like to listen in on Jim's quiet musings are probably saying.....

"So what's with all the photos and pictures?"

Well, I never said HTML and Jeeem got along real well but I wasn't gonna let it beat me. Naked Blog tried to help me out, others made attempts, but I finally put it together with help from Pearl. She was patient with me and walked me through it in an easily understandable way. I'm a little thick when it comes to that stuff. I know, I know, others are out there (you know who you are) smirking from behind their blog sites that are bursting at the seams with pretty pictures and HTML, DHTML and JAVA prodigy, snickering at me with the occasional, "Duh!" That's okay....

Now my problem is keeping a balance. I can't be sticking pictures in here every day. Gotta stay sharp and continue to dazzle you with my brilliant writing skills, right?


Oh boy.


Friday, May 17, 2002

This is Shirl's medicine.

This is my medicine.

I smell to high heaven when I rub that stuff on me, but I'd swear I feel better. Maybe next time I'm sick I'll slather myself in Vicks VapoRub and keep myself plied with Vernor's. -Jeeem-

Thursday, May 16, 2002

For those of you who are wondering, this is an ant lion.

These little buggers tunnel down in the sand, making a sand pit and when an ant comes along.....

They begin scraping at the sand so the ant falls towards the bottom so they can eat um up.

They don't have em up hiah' cause it's too cold up hiah' in the noth ist. Only the flatlanda's got em.

Time always seems to be of the essence lately. Always in a hurry, rushing here, rushing there, watching the clock.

Once upon a time, when I was around seven, I sat on the side yard for half a day watching ant lions build their concave sand traps.

Half a day.

Six or seven hours.

There were no worries, no pressing thoughts, no appointments, no anxiety.

I wonder if I could do that today. Would I be impatient? Could I just throw caution to the wind and sit for six or seven hours waiting for the chipmunk who lives in my rock wall to appear?

He's a cute little bugger. I think he's worth it.

I'd probably be stiff for a week.


I am in love.

This time, with a cartoon anime character.

Cammy & Jeeem...has a nice ring to it doesn't it?

Thanks Shirl!


Sunday, May 12, 2002's Sunday. Mother's Day, so they tell me.

So I should perhaps reflect on Mother. Good ole Mommy.

Well, not to be a depressive sort again, but I gots to be truthful, right? My "mother" was a freakin' nightmare. Sorta sounds like a title of a movie, doesn't it?

My Mother was a Freakin' Nightmare......


Jack Nicholson and Kathy Bates

My mommy was five foot, eleven inches tall. She had a temper to go with her strawberry blond hair. Her name was Marie Opal Sharp and so was her personality. Once, when I was around nine years old, she beat me almost to death with a three inch stick. She didn't get away with it cause my teacher, Miss Aires, discovered the welts on my back and called the cops. Later, when I was old enough to understand, I discovered what controlled her moods.

Ever hear that song about "Mother's little helper?" Who sang that? Was it the Rolling Stones? Yep, I think so.....let me do a Google Search.....

Yep! Here it is:

What a drag it is getting old!

"Kids are different today,"
I hear ev'ry mother say
Mother needs something today to calm her down.
And though she's not really ill
There's a little yellow pill
She goes running for the shelter of a mother's little helper
And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day.

"Things are different today,"
I hear ev'ry mother say
Cooking fresh food for a husband's just a drag.
So she buys an instant cake
And she burns her frozen steak
And goes running for the shelter of a mother's little helper
And two help her on her way, get her through her busy day.

"Doctor please, some more of these!"
Outside the door, she took four more.

"Men just aren't the same today,"
I hear ev'ry mother say
They just don't appreciate that you get tired.
They're so hard to satisfy,
You can tranquilize your mind
So go running for the shelter of a mother's little helper
And four help you through the night, help to minimize your plight.

"Life's just much too hard today,"
I hear ev'ry mother say
The pursuit of happiness just seems a bore.
And if you take more of those
You will get an overdose
No more running for the shelter of a mother's little helper
They just helped you on your way, through your busy dying day.

-- Mick Jagger and Keith Richards

Cool. So true. My mommy had some of those pills. I used to swipe them. I got to a point where I could take seven of them and still remain standing. Way to go Mommy! These are good! Had to hide it though, cause seven of em made me slur my words somethin awful. Amazing how she could take those babies and escape, escape.....

I liked it when she took those. Mommy wasn't so mean when she ate them and she didn't hit me. Couldn't hit me. Couldn't catch me.

She had other little pills too.

White ones called Miltown. I liked those also.

Miltown. I visited that town many times. Cool town. Pretty laid back. VERY laid back.

Then there were the orange ones.

Pentagon shaped.

Whew! Those made ya get up and GO! Run Jimmy, run! See Jimmy run! Run Jimmy, run! See Jimmy vomit. Vomit Jimmy, vomit! Jimmy should never take Miltowns and the orange pentagon ones. Jimmy learned a valuable lesson. Jimmy doesn't like it when things come up through his nose.

After the police spoke with good ole Mom about hitting Jimmy with a stick, she began taking a new pill. This one was called Nardil. Such a strange name for such a small brown, orangish pill.

Nardil is a neat pill. It made mommy very, very agreeable.

Mommy made a mistake though....she ate something she shouldn't have eaten (my mommy ate a lot) and ended up in the hospital. Seems she wasn't supposed to eat certain things and take the Nardil pill.

Stupid mommy.

Then the doctor made her take a different pill. This one was called Tofranil and it didn't work as well. Mommy never hit Jimmy again but she sure could yell alot.

So, mommy is pushing up daisy's today. I never returned to her gravesite. I don't much believe in that anyway, but then I never really cared for mommy all that much. I think people like mommy shouldn't have children.

Happy mommy's day!


It's cold.

My neighbor said it's not cold.



I have added a tag message board called Jeeembord. You will find it at the bottom of my blog template. Just another indicator of my Blogging Brilliance or a shameful copycat act after visiting Peter's site. -Jeeem-
Holy smokes Batman!

I've finally finished Chapter Five of The Naked Novel - A collaborative work of modern fiction.

Hopefully it will be posted by Peter soon. I've given the story a bit of a twist, given the current state of my mind. I really hope that all who are interested fans or bored surfers will love it. It surely has been an adventure.


Saturday, May 11, 2002


Thank the good Lord the weekend is here. I voted for more of them (weekends) but nothings happened yet.

Well, it was destined to happen.....Ya can't stay 49-forever Shirts! The inevitable had to happen. So, Shirts has finally slipped (gracefully I might ad) over to The other side.

I was wondering what had happened to her, having not heard from Shirts in quite a while. So, I guess I'll know what to expect when I hit the big 4-9er. I will disappear from my blog for awhile and suddenly appear elsewhere, over the top, heading downward? Meanwhile I'm working on staying 46-forever, but things aren't looking good.

Louie just rolled by, so I know I had better get offline cause he'll be calling soon to roust me up to meet up for breakfast. This is so cool. I feel kinda like an old man, but I feel a true sense of camaraderie too. Sometimes I look back at my "old life" and the chaos of it, diving through windows like a Hollywood stunt man to avoid being shot at, moving three and four states away to avoid someone who was, "Looking for me," and only ending up in more trouble in the new state I had arrived at, feeling the "snap" of handcuffs on my wrists time and time again, picking up baseball bats and crowbars in neighborhood brawls to defend my so-called friends, experimenting with exotic drugs, alcohol and other "organic" sources to find what it was I was looking for and ending up in deadend job after job, doing stuff I wasn't happy doing, just working to make money to get high again. I look back at that and compare my life then, to now, and I smile. It is so, so different and so enjoyable. I am happy.

One never "gets" there though....I think there are many different levels of happiness and always another, better level than the one at which we are at. I tell my client's I work with that we are pleasure seekers. We seek out pleasure constantly in our lives, always pushing the envelope towards better and better pleasure. Oh sure, there are those people who settle for what they've got, but not me.....nosirree. Not this old boy. I'm gonna keep reaching for that brass ring...the one that's just outta my reach.

Never settle.


Thursday, May 09, 2002

I have determined that stress is a necessary part of my life. I don't necessarily like it either. Well then, that said, I will have another cup of coffee to send my nerves to attention and build my adrenaline reserves to new heights.

I recently sat in the lobby of a mental hospital. No, not as a patient or even a prospective patient. I was there on business.

The person I was there to see was late. I became irritated until I dismissed that feeling, telling myself to chill and just enjoy the moment.

Enjoy the moment? In a mental hospital?

Well, I did. It was very entertaining actually. The clincher was sitting there WONDERING what it would be like to shuffle around all day, seemingly without a care in the world, drool dripping onto my tee-shirt, awaiting my next medication regimen and my next meal. Kinda like One Flew Over the Cuckcoo's Nest in real life. Interestingly enough, I found my self romancing the thought.

I'm going back Friday morning and actually looking forward to it.


Saturday, May 04, 2002

Got my hair cut yesterday. I must be getting old....I know my hairdresser, her son, her colleage and her colleage's family, and I bring my photo scrapbook of my trip in to the hairdressers. Weird. Well, weird when you look back at my isolative life and how far I've come. Example is, I've gotta get ready in about 20 minutes to go get breakfast with my neighbor, Louie. Never did shit like that in the past. It's kinda neat.

I left work yesterday, feeling a funny feeling. I was feeling so much like a foreigner there. Getting irritated at little comments people were making and just feeling like nobody there REALLY knows me. Funny, I think I have a lot to do with that. I don't ALLOW them to know me. Only a small handful of people really know me and they sure aren't the people I work with. I just had to get out of there and get out of there I did, leaving early, planning to use a little chunk of my annual time to make up for it.

My heart tells me to move change something in my life. A friend dropped something in my lap last week that tells me it may be sooner than later. People say, "Just let things happen Jim.....don't try to control it." Ha! I say. I gotta crawl behind the steering wheel every time. I'd feel useless if I didn't. Sometimes I just feel so DIFFERENT than others. I often wonder if others feel that way. One of my friends from high school back home in El Paso, Texas, used to call me a rogue:

*An unprincipled, deceitful, and unreliable person; a scoundrel or rascal. One who is playfully mischievous; a scamp. A wandering beggar; a vagrant
*A vicious and solitary animal, especially an elephant that has separated itself from the herd.
*An organism, especially a plant, that shows an undesirable variation from a standard.
*An immoral or licentious person: libertine, seducer, tempter, lecher, satyr, debaucher, profligate, rake, voluptuary, reprobate, roué, sensualist.

Holy crappola batman. Most is true! But that doesn't make me a bad guy, does it? I have lived a different life than most and often I end up compairing myself to others, conscious to where I've been, what I've experienced and what I've done or what has been done to me......and I just feel different. No, not just different-different, but D-I-F-F-E-R-E-N-T. Really, not ALIEN different or WEIRD different, but DIFFERENT.

So what, you say.....well, this is my blog and I can say anything I want to. Currently, some interesting things are happening in my life and I am trying to listen to my heart. Nobody on the face of this earth, that I have shared the stuff with, is supportive and that's okay. Nobody seems to understand, but then they are not really me, don't REALLY know me, and well.......I guess it really doesn't matter cause ultimately it's all up to me anyway. Isn't that so? I often wonder how much emphasis we place on other people's opinions.

Enough rambling, I shall go take my Thorazine now......

Jeeem (with three e's please)
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