If this photo doesn't break your heart, you don't have one.
I watched PBS last night for two hours - I would have been better off watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It was two hours of why lions and elephants are disappearing and why birds in remote areas are dying. Why there is "plastic soup" in areas of our oceans that should be pristine.
I couldn’t track down the PBS program, but I did find part of the information they used:
http://patagonia-under-siege.blogspot.com/2008/01/plastic-killing-fields-pacific-ocean.html
I found the photo on that blog.
Search “plastic soup.” Spread the word!!!
I vow to be even more attentive to purchasing only recyclables and recycling everything I can. I will drink from glasses, not plastic bottles. I will get my groceries in paper bags and recycle those. I am already riding my bike for short errands.
None of it seems like it’s nearly enough.
Carl – the vulture we rescued last week – didn’t make it. The doctor at Crow Wildlife Rescue on Sanibel explained that the infection from the broken wing was too great. That he’d had a few good meals, pain management and loving care. She thanked us and said there weren’t many who’d go to all that trouble for a vulture.
He was a soul. He was suffering. We did what was right. We’re sad.
Speaking of sad. Got weak before Christmas and - after many months apart - I walked back into the big strong arms of my favorite emotionally abusive alcoholic. Of course it didn’t last. Of course I'm back at square one.
I left him during a blackout last month and still feel a little guilty. Well, hell - it'll give him something to obsess. A reason to drink.
I suspect bipolar as well, since I can almost see a cloud passing over him, transforming him from fun and charming to moody with rage.
This time I refuse to hole up and mourn. That’s so stupid. So much of the pain is more loneliness than loss.
Went out with a shrink earlier this month. Brilliant guy – warm – a little too intense. Gave me a bit of a tic, but it’s so hard to find people who are capable of intelligent conversation. I just held my finger on it. (The tic.)
We met at Starbucks twice. He came on fast, intense … I listened to my vibes this time, kept a distance and even backed off at one point - cancelling a date. I said I had vibes that there was someone else in the picture.
He believes in vibes and intuition. That's a rare quality, one of the things I liked about him.
He called me a week later, in the morning, as if he had something urgent to tell me. My vibes were right … he met someone else … wanted me to know, made a big point of it. He sounded surprised (disappointed?) when I told him I was very happy for him and wished him the best.
This was sincere, I really didn’t care. I wasn't staring at my cell phone, I was having fun with friends last weekend.
He seemed like a lot of work.
OK. How big is the ego of someone who expects an acquaintance to be crushed after a coupla coffees? He didn’t even need to call, it was sort of annoying.
Maybe I’m destined to be alone for the rest of this lifetime.
Maybe that’ll be just fine.
My biggest fear is I'll die alone in the condo and no one will know to take care of my dogs.
I watched PBS last night for two hours - I would have been better off watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It was two hours of why lions and elephants are disappearing and why birds in remote areas are dying. Why there is "plastic soup" in areas of our oceans that should be pristine.
I couldn’t track down the PBS program, but I did find part of the information they used:
http://patagonia-under-siege.blogspot.com/2008/01/plastic-killing-fields-pacific-ocean.html
I found the photo on that blog.
Search “plastic soup.” Spread the word!!!
I vow to be even more attentive to purchasing only recyclables and recycling everything I can. I will drink from glasses, not plastic bottles. I will get my groceries in paper bags and recycle those. I am already riding my bike for short errands.
None of it seems like it’s nearly enough.
Carl – the vulture we rescued last week – didn’t make it. The doctor at Crow Wildlife Rescue on Sanibel explained that the infection from the broken wing was too great. That he’d had a few good meals, pain management and loving care. She thanked us and said there weren’t many who’d go to all that trouble for a vulture.
He was a soul. He was suffering. We did what was right. We’re sad.
Speaking of sad. Got weak before Christmas and - after many months apart - I walked back into the big strong arms of my favorite emotionally abusive alcoholic. Of course it didn’t last. Of course I'm back at square one.
I left him during a blackout last month and still feel a little guilty. Well, hell - it'll give him something to obsess. A reason to drink.
I suspect bipolar as well, since I can almost see a cloud passing over him, transforming him from fun and charming to moody with rage.
This time I refuse to hole up and mourn. That’s so stupid. So much of the pain is more loneliness than loss.
Went out with a shrink earlier this month. Brilliant guy – warm – a little too intense. Gave me a bit of a tic, but it’s so hard to find people who are capable of intelligent conversation. I just held my finger on it. (The tic.)
We met at Starbucks twice. He came on fast, intense … I listened to my vibes this time, kept a distance and even backed off at one point - cancelling a date. I said I had vibes that there was someone else in the picture.
He believes in vibes and intuition. That's a rare quality, one of the things I liked about him.
He called me a week later, in the morning, as if he had something urgent to tell me. My vibes were right … he met someone else … wanted me to know, made a big point of it. He sounded surprised (disappointed?) when I told him I was very happy for him and wished him the best.
This was sincere, I really didn’t care. I wasn't staring at my cell phone, I was having fun with friends last weekend.
He seemed like a lot of work.
OK. How big is the ego of someone who expects an acquaintance to be crushed after a coupla coffees? He didn’t even need to call, it was sort of annoying.
Maybe I’m destined to be alone for the rest of this lifetime.
Maybe that’ll be just fine.
My biggest fear is I'll die alone in the condo and no one will know to take care of my dogs.
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