Saturday, March 18, 2006

'My 17 Years as an Unauthorized Jew' (The Good, section 2: Early Mental Meltdown part 1: Grass Hopper Wing)

I deeply admired my second grade teacher and Iím not sure why I ended up connecting so much with her, but usually this sort of thing is called a "crush". She and her husband would baby-sit me for my parents and I remember one of our activities was watching insects. We would look for ants to see what kinds of things they would carry back to their nests like grass hopper wings.

I became very interested in nature and insects, which caused my parents to wonder if I might grow up to become a scientist.

In the middle of that school year my teacher was offered a position in California and moved away. The loss was devastating for me, and both the school system and my parents were unable to get me back on the academic track.

Posted by Stan on 03/18/06@05:35 PM CST ..::Link::..Whisper or Scream?

Why do I have to convert people's units for them?

Heh. Funny title. But seriously. Why do I? I mean *it's a Google away*. I have a handy unit converter program, but even if they don't have one, isn't it just as easy to google something like "centimeter inches unit conversion", find a website, enter the number of centimeters, hit return, and get the answer, rather than having to write me to ask me about how long in inches my widgets are (when I list the length in the metric system on my webpage)? Why would *I* be privy to this arcane knowledge of how long in inches 8 centimeters is and they wouldn't?

Posted by Ann on 03/18/06@03:03 PM CST ..::Link::..A Whisper Inside.

DREAM: with No Self Esteem

Hard to remember this dream, but I was in a house with some other people, no idea who they were or why we were there. I was trying to get some guy to notice me and make the moves on me. I was practically naked, and rolling around on a bed in front of him with just my underwear and tank top on. I have absolutely no idea who this guy was...early 30s, white, short dark hair, average height, average build, dark plastic glasses frames, not even my type...or why I desired him! And this guy, although he wasn't gay, had absolutely no interest in me. Nice self-image booster, that. He was assisting some other person with a computer or something and just ignoring me. Then we were all looking out a window (it's at night) and there was this odd thing in the sky. It was a bright light and getting closer to earth. It sort of looked like a hot air balloon or a parachuter, but there was this gas bubble surrounding it. It lit up the surrounding sky as it got closer, and the black sky turned an unnatural shade with subtle cloud-like highlights of orange/red/brown. After this, I ran over to someone else's house (it's now daylight). It's a grey house built maybe in the 30s or so, with a more modern addition in front with a plate glass window that sort of jutted out like a plant room. I see the people in the room, and there is a woman there who I knew IRL in my last year in Colorado, Loretta. She is sitting at a computer with some man...I don't know who. They see me out front knocking at their door, but they don't let me in. Then some other people come up to their door, a man and a woman. The woman had a dorky hairdo that was like someting out of the early 60s, sort of beehive style, but not a huge beehive. I can't remember the man much, but I think he looked rather nerdy with short dark hair and wire glasses. I don't know if they were being ironic. Because this other couple were there, Loretta and the other guy let us all in. I was trying to warn them about the strange UFO thing, but no one would listen to me.

Posted by Ann on 03/18/06@10:30 AM CST ..::Link::..A Whisper Inside.

Friday, March 17, 2006


I dreamt that I was flirting with Brian Eno. He looked very young, like maybe even pre-Roxy's first album. We were in a room with some other people and I was smiling at him in a very flirting way. He was wearing some weird navy blue outfit. I wish I could remember more, because I think it was a very funny dream.

Posted by Ann on 03/17/06@09:27 AM CST ..::Link::..A Whisper Inside.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Gripes of the Day

OK, I get this message today from eBugger #1: "Where's my widgets? It's been three weeks and I still don't have my widgets!

eBugger didn't realize she got her widgets three weeks ago. Sent it with a pack of other widgets, which she left me + feedback for, 3 days after I shipped them. eBugger must've forgotten about that, as she replied, "sorry to have bothered you."

Sometimes I think I ship too swiftly. They get their ebay winnings 3 days after they pay for them, so in 9 days (when they usually get their ebay items from other sellers) they're wondering where items are from me! That someone's memory can be *that* bad is mind boggling.

Got this other message from eBugger #2: "How many widgetweights are these widgets?" (although she misspelled weight as "wait"). I responded that I didn't know because I don't have a widgetometer and can't weigh them (can't use a regular postage scale because widgetunits are very small). She writes back, "what? your (sic) selling widets & you dont have a widgetometer!!! how do you know what your (sic) buying or selling or if your supplier is be honest with you? widgetometers are under a $100.00!!"

This is just a snotty little customer who thinks she is better than me because she can afford $100 for a widgetometer (which is something that would be very irrelevant as I do not sell widgets by the weight, but by the piece. That is also how I buy my widgets too. What good would a $100 widgetometer be, unless it could actually count out individual widgets? I have a postal scale, which is very worthwhile, but it does not have the precise units of a widgetometer. I debated writing this back to her, explaining that I am selling by the piece, not by the weight. The anal in me even thought about telling her to check her spelling and syntax ("your supplier is be honest with you" LOL!), but of course that would just be being mean back. Instead, I simply reported her email as abuse to eBay, and put her on my blocked bidder list.

I just love it when people think they know better than you how to run your life or business. Like the person we used to know who used to think it odd we only had one juice pitcher. WTF. Recently I sold some digiwidgets to an impetuous buyer who was frantic because she didn't get them, like, instantaneously. I emailed her digiwidgets as soon as I got her order, but I guess that wasn't soon enough. She goes into this spiel as to why I don't have them available for download IMMEDIATELY? I explained to her that a) it takes a LOT of webspace to host something like that, plus, I am not a tech/script person who can set up something like that in the first place and c) I cannot afford a) or to hire out for b). Then she emails me back saying she has her version of digiwidgets available for immediate download and why can't I do the same. Hmmm...something smells of "I bought your product, so now I'll spam you so you will feel pressured to buy my product." I put her email in the weird file. Hell, when I buy from certain non-physical product software companies online, I sure don't receive my product code INSTANTANEOUSLY. In fact, I've had to wait much longer on certain "downloadable" items than it takes me to email someone's digiwidgets to them, by far.

Then there's the frantic emailer. They email you with a question about your widgets or whatever and they sound so frantic, with words like "please respond ASAP!" and "I just have have to have these NOW!" So you drop the other things to email them back as soon as you can, but then you don't hear from them. And you don't hear from them. And finally a few days later they finally email you back, and the letter usually goes something like, "wow, thanks for getting back with me so quickly!" (how did they know if they didn't check their email for 3 days) and "but I already found another widget, thanks anyway!"

These people usually have horrid spelling, sometimes TYPING IN ALL CAPS, ALL THE TIME, or they affect the e.e.cummings style.

Oh, and the best one was someone who provided the wrong zip code and wondered why they never received their widgets.


I really hate the immediate gratification culture we are living in. It's really turning people into rude boors who have no patience and are totally incapable of seeing anything from someone else's point of view.

Posted by Ann on 03/16/06@05:43 PM CST ..::Link::..3 Screamers.

News of the Day

Kurt Cobain Action Figure. I don't know, for some reason, I find this a bit sad and...sacrilegous? I mean, it looks A LOT like him, but I can't quite understand why it saddens me nonetheless. Didn't just a few years ago I bemoan the fact that they came out with action figures for The Wall and I wanted actual Pink Floyd action figures (circa Live at Pompeii, of course, not sure if I would want the Live 8 version, although they've aged better than most)? Maybe because it is a really good likeness of him, that it's spooky. Maybe it's just because it's cashing in on his death or something. I don't know.


I sell Widgets, while Stan sells Schmoos. According to Wikipedia, "In economics a 'widget' is any unspecified material good which is a tangible thing produced through labor (extracted, refined, manufactured, or assembled) from a finite material resource set, in contrast to a 'Shmoo' which is a tangible thing/being that reproduces itself and is captured or bred as an economic activity (the original Shmoo reproduces without requiring any material sustenance.)"


All the above information was found on the way to find information about completely unrelated other things. I love getting lost on the web.

Posted by Ann on 03/16/06@02:44 PM CST ..::Link::..17 Screamers.

DREAM: I am the Dog Avenger and Dog the Mortgage Broker

Stan and I bought a house with 4 other guys, Matt, some other guy that reminded me of some guy who I can't remember his name who sometimes went to a weekly Saturday party thing we would go to back in another life (not Adam, but Adam's friend...sort of generic looking, computer geek...sorry Stan, to remind you of that last night), still yet another guy (maybe Jeffrey?) and a guy I used to work with my last year in Colorado at Pinko's--Rick...odd medley. Probably a vacation time share sort of deal. Mind you, none of these people I have seen in at least five years or so (other than seeing Matt out in his front lawn as we drive by). Simultaneously, I'm checking myself into a hospital to have a routine teeth cleaning...as if I am my dog, except human, because I need to be anaesthetized, just like how they clean my dog's teeth. In my dream, I am getting a sense of dejavu, like I did this once before (I must be really tapping into Lucifer Sam here, because we had his teeth cleaned last year too). I am also getting my valuables together--rings--and giving them to my mom, who is there, to hold for me until after the operation, which is scheduled around 3:30. It is still in the morning, and I don't want to stay in the hospital all that time, so Stan and I decide to take a ride and go get the papers signed for the house deal. We're driving around what appears to be north of Madison/Lake Mendota, near that area of hideous condos with fake lighthouses, yet at the same time it's sort of like around Broadway south of Madison/Lake Monona. We find the building where the closing will be. It's two or three stories high, mostly glass (the office building, not our "vacation time share house" which I actually never see in the dream), and below street level. There's snow outside, and we park on the street and walk down to the building. Who is running the office? Who is the mortgage broker company? Why, it's Dog the Bounty Hunter. Heh. He's the first thing I see as I walk in the door, along with his wife Beth, along with some other people I didn't recognize from the TV show. We're early, and the rest of the guys who are closing with us haven't arrived yet. Stan says something like "we need to do a closing on a house" (I guess we didn't exactly line up an appointment ahead of time). Dog sees us and introduces himself, first looking at me and extending his hand to shake. I notice that his hand is deformed and missing some digits, and I figure he got bit by a Doberman during a recent untelevised bounty hunt or something...maybe that's why he can't make it as a bounty hunter in Hawaii anymore, minus the fingers, so he has to go on to another career, Dog the Mortgage Broker in Wisconsin. Yup. It was rather gross, actually. Eventually the other guys come in, except Rick, and we go on to sign all the papers. As I'm sitting in a chair around the desk, Beth walks by in front of my chair, (rather than going behind it) and I think that is rather rude. She is being her typical bitchy Beth self (as seen on TV!). After we are done, Rick still hasn't arrived, and we are waiting on him. The other guy in our party, who I think might have been Jeffrey, starts kneeling on the floor and bowing down to me (Wayne's World style) doing the "I am not worthy" thing. I am sort of flattered, up until the time he mentions "Meghan" and says he loves her songs. Who the hell is Meghan? Do you know a Meghan? I don't know a Meghan. Then I realize he was *practicing* his Wayne's World-style adoration of the Meghan for when he actually encounters her, and I was just there in the way and it wasn't intended toward me. In the mean time, Rick still hasn't gotten there, it's now lunch time and Wayne "Dog" Chapman is still stuck here with this closing party, however Beth decides to leave for lunch, kisses Dog goodbye and mentions something about locking up. I look out the window after Beth leaves and see that we are completely locked inside the place, as there is a gate outside surrounding the complex and it is locked from the outside. I start to panic because I realize I need to get myself to the hospital to have my operation soon. What if Rick doesn't come? How will I get out? Finally, I see an old (70s? 80s?) sedan, 4-door, very long American style...Ford?, olive green colored. I knew that was Rick (from what I remember of Rick IRL, he always rode a bike). I was relieved. Despite the place being locked up, Rick somehow managed to get in (dreams, don't you love them?) and sign the papers. I remember looking at Rick and thinking he looked like Tim in sort of a tall, bespeckled, goatteed northern European Jesus-imitaiton sort of way (Rick always had short hair, Tim has short hair now, but when Tim had longer hair he went as Jesus for Halloween one year and he looked just like those cheesey Aryan versions of Jesus.

I can't remember what happened after that, other than I woke up and concentrated really hard to remember this dream because surely it should be nominated for a Dreamy.

And if that wasn't enough for one night, when I went back to sleep, I had yet another dream.

I was in what looked to be a junior high school, mostly for girls. I was walking down a hallway with stocking feet, and some of the girls were rollerblading down the halls. The building started out as a one-story building (like the jr. high I went to) but mutated into a three-story, like the high school I went to. As I turned a corner, I witnessed a girl with neon orange hair wearing matching neon orange clothes hit a small, grey short-haired dog with a stick. It was purely out of meanness and unprovoked. I was so mad, that I tried to chase after her, but she was on rollerblades and I was in stocking feet and kept slipping. We're going around a spiral stairwell, like we're not on the stairs, but we're going around them...weird...can't describe. Finally, she trips and hurts herself, so I get a chance to catch her. Then I'm transported out of that setting and I'm outside. There's a young man leaning on a tree near me. He looks like James Dean and is wearing khaki pants and a grey windbreaker. Despite the non-neon colors, I know that is the girl I was looking for. I tackle this person to the ground and am sitting on his/her chest. He/she is trying to bite my crotch (as if it's a dog). There is a newspaper between him/her/it and me. Then I start to press on its eyes with my thumbs and I get a strange sense of dream dejavu, like either a) I've been in this situation before in another dream or b) I only *think* in the *dream* that I've been in this situation before. The person is pleading with me not to blind them. I keep pressing on its eyes, not hard, and make indentations into the inner corner of its eyes with my thumbnails. It opens its eyes, which are all red and seem sort of pushed back, like when you push on a doll's eyes and it sort of dislocates the mechanism. I can't remember what happened after that, but I got a sense that I had avenged the hurt dog.

Posted by Ann on 03/16/06@09:43 AM CST ..::Link::..2 Screamers.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

'My 17 Years as an Unauthorized Jew' (The Good, section 1 part 4: Hermann Goering)

I enjoy going for walks and when I lived with my parents I often walked home from church. On my way I took different routs and one of these directions went past the town library. On sunday when I was around 11 - 12 years old an elderly woman was in front of the library with a box of books for 5 cents each. All I can remember her saying to me was, "Did you find something you like?" I bought 5 books from the tall library woman, and my choices that day were made according to my interest in the book covers.

One of the hard cover books was made out of a pinkish gray fabric material with the image of an elephant and a swastika embossed on the front. After returning home I opened the book, and then it occurred to me that it might have something to do with Nazi Germany. I placed it on my book shelves, and I believe I looked at it only one more time over the next 8 years.

When I came home for the summer after my sophomore year in college I noticed that this book was missing. My father would sometimes give things away to his friends, and I assume the situation must have been the case for this book. In all of the time I had this object I had never discussed it with my parents or anyone. This book had abandoned my possession as I had kept it - in silence.

Posted by Stan on 03/12/06@04:08 PM CST ..::Link::..10 Screamers.
By Stan @ 05:35 PM CST:03:18:06 ..::Link::..Whisper or Scream?

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