I’m still riding the aftereffects of an all-nighter. A little disoriented, but I have a monologue to finish, and the damned albatross will not slaughter itself work will not self-translate. So, disorientation aside, I must press on.
It looks like it’s going to be clear to partly cloudy today. I was hoping for a day sopping with rain and severe weather advisories. But it looks like I will be sleep deprived for a bit longer.
Oh, the things I do for a pittance: endure a playwright who thinks he’s a super-genius; smile when he invites himself to dinner; tolerate his hogging of my computer, as if surfing the web were his God-given right; and try not to scream when he acts as though I exist to provide him snacks, tea, and unlimited viewing of the Syfy channel.
Who knows. Maybe this sleep deprivation will provide some impetus to call the dude on his BS. Oh, for a good second wind, and no inhibitions…!


My love/hate relationship with Facebook

Facebook really frustrates me.

The chance to reconnect with people I haven’t seen or heard from,for a while, is fine. I’m happy to say that I have touched base with peeps from the days at Bennington, from high school–and with my dear pen pal Brian B. I also like the wide variety of groups–and the fan pages can be fun. Not to mention the ease of linking to vids, articles, graphics, and so forth.

But I despise the herd mentality. Especially when the talk turns to politics. Going on today, I saw xxx posting a kiss-off to Helen Thomas.

I was p.o.’d. Not because Ms. Thomas had to resign–one does not talk out of turn about a topic as white-hot as the IDF occupation of Gaza. But to sneer at her, to treat her years in the White House press pool in a dismissive way–my Lord, why not just say to Jimmie Dale Guckert (a/k/a Jeff Gannon), “Here’s the front seat and a lifetime press pass”?! If I wanted to hear the rehashing of Faux pablum, I would watch Hannity, or Beck, or O’Reilly.

Yes, I am aware that FB is not an exclusively conservative network–but the conservatives can be vocal and highly visceral. I do want to talk with conservatives, but at FB it would just be like throwing Jello at a chrome-coated wall.
Moreover, this just makes me feel less like opening my mouth and saying what’s on my mind. It’s like being back in high school, and being ignored at parties.

The difference between then and now? I don’t have to endure this teeth-on-edge cliquishness. And, frankly, I think I will just drop out. Get the addresses and numbers of friends and just leave. There’s no point in reliving the sort of drama that helped make the years between 1980 and 1983 a living hell. And there’s no sense in lying to myself; I love xxx, but right now, I need a break. A long, long break. Not lile he really needs to be around. He has a wider social net, and a greater deal of mobility. Me, I feel like I’m an afterthought next to his new Tea Party-riffic world…

I hope the politics and the “dittos” keep him happy. I don’t think I can, or wish to, fill the bill. I refuse to be the token libbie in his world. I’m tired of making nice. And I’m tired of feeling like I’m yelling into a vacuum.

Small hours singalong

A karaoke gem for those days when you simply do not want to play nice with others. Raise a glass and sing away!


I was looking for something a bit melodic when, lo and behold, I came across this clip. And I wanted to choke.

Nobody should force a young woman to stay silent about rape–and to drag God’s name through the muck this way is doubly reprehensible. No. No. No.

There is no language for the vileness of the act itself, or for the attempted suppression.