Thanksgiving at Tim's Place at the Channel Mark

Met Canadian Connie at Tim's Place for Thanksgiving. (This photo is from one evening last summer when we decided to walk the beach with the dogs.)

She brought her 28 year old son and the three of us had a fine time.

Temp was about 72 degrees - that's on the verge of cold for some of us, so we sat in the sun on the rail overlooking Hurricane Bay. I got a call from a friend in Michigan and didn't get much sympathy for having to wear a sweater.

Tim's Place was EMPTY compared to last year - but the food was outstanding. Connie let me taste her pumpkin soup - I need to track down that recipe. And their cranberries had bits of nuts and cherries ... they were heaven!

I told Connie the girls at work were telling me I need to start going to the Edison on Wednesdays because they have a "Cougar pit." Well, I won't have her to go prowling with; if I ever do.

Connie is moving to the Washington DC area in mid-December. I'm excited for her, but I'll miss her. I need pleasantly strange friends and there aren't a lot like her in these parts.

Connie is perhaps the only other person on the planet who has been watching what's going on with pythons down here. I read an article yesterday that said there are from 5,000 to 30,000 in the Everglades area and points north.

I know, that's a weird gap in reporting the numbers.

The author said people buy the babies as pets, thinking they're manageable and only need those little aquarium things; forgetting that down the line they will need their own room.

The article was sort of hilarious. It was like the guy was saying "I know what you're thinking - let's round them up and use them for food for the needy." (I believe it's open season on boars right now. Not the kind you find in bars, the kind you find out in the woods.)

Unfortunately, the author had actually eaten python and didn't like it. Yeah, we're hoping for "tastes like chicken" when we read an article this unsettling, but did not have that satisfaction. He said pythons are "all muscle". So I'm imagining "chewy". Like trying to eat a wetsuit.

He said maybe with the right ingredients they might be ok. BAM!

I was telling Connie they want herp owners to "chip" their pythons. She didn't get it ... her son explained "microchip - like in dogs."

Then he started telling us about a classmate who is a stripper in Fort Myers. She raises (?) and sells pythons on the side, keeps them out back in Lehigh Acres and has a supply of rats for feed. (What kind of person can feed living animals to snakes?)

When they get too big, she just lets them loose. Nice.

He said she wears see through blouses, shorts exactly 4" wide and got off having to turn in a paper on time by telling the Humanities professor she has chlamydia.

However, she has accepted Christ as her personal savior.

I don't make this shit up.

This was a great Thanksgiving. I miss family and friends up north, but it sure is nice being out enjoying the sunshine on the big holidays.

Self-Diagnosis and "Cyberchondria"

Cyberchondria; I didn't know there was such a word. The NYT has an article on it. (I'll include a link a little further down.)

When I got sick five years ago (is it that long ago? I'm losing track of the years) my cyberdiagnosis was either MS or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

My test results churned up a hint of Epstein Barr Virus - so my doctor said no, not CFS - EBV. But everything I read online said that EBV and CFS are way similar symptomatically. In fact, the online research said that when EBV does not go away it BECOMES CFS.

In hindsight, in my mind - CFS is the garbage can of all diagnoses; that's what doctors say when they DON'T KNOW.

My symptoms were life-altering. I joked that I had Roseanne Barr Virus and that's why I was swearing so much.

After being desperately ill for two years, my symptoms started morphing. My face got lopsided when I was especially ill, and my fingers were starting to go numb. My doctor went from using the term "chronic EBV" to "diagnosis unknown."

He had given up on me.

My online support board was my lifeline and home base in my search for answers. I told my friends about the new symptoms and two told me I definitely had Lyme Disease. Those people were experts. They were all smart and sick with nothing but time on their hands.

I was like "WTF is Lyme Disease?"

So I went back online to Michigan's Department of Natural Resources site to see what a deer tick looks like. Well, it looks exactly like the wriggling critter I clawed out of my leg three months before I got sick.

Mine was second from the left in the photo lineup. I remember screaming when I realized the thing "on" my leg was IN my leg. I clawed him out - he was so full of my blood he was the size of a pea and nearly IMPOSSIBLE to kill. I slammed a 4" phone book on him and jumped on it.

I was not walking in the woods. I was sitting in a LaZBoy watching Sex and the City at my ex BF's house. He has five acres with deer out back. My Bouvier must have brought the critter in on her fur. We're not talking wilderness, we're talking a suburban setting where you could walk to Barnes & Noble.

All a sick person really needs is the internet - and THEN a doctor to find solutions to your self-diagnosis. Because that's EXACTLY how my illness went down.

I printed out a photo of deer ticks, circled the culprit and handed it to my MD. He immediately put me on IV antibiotics. Just a few years too late, of course. But late is better than never.

The article in the NYT is pretty funny. It's like "get a headache - go online and decide you have a brain tumor."

But I have to tell you - in my experience, a smart person with time and internet can meet or exceed whatever a halfhearted MD's got in his magic bag. Sick people MUST get involved in what's wrong with them or they may never find real answers.

Anyway, enough ranting. Here's part of the article:

"Mr. Horvitz said that in addition to his interest in creating a Web search tool that would give more reliable answers, the research was driven by clear memories from his medical school education of what was often referred to as “second-year syndrome” or “medical schoolitis.”

He said he remembered “sitting on a cold seat with my legs dangling off the examination table,” convinced that he was suffering from a rare and incurable skin disease.

While the doctor was out of the room, Mr. Horvitz said, he took a look at his medical chart and saw that the doctor’s notes read, “Eric is in medical school, and he has been reading a lot.”

The researchers said that Web searchers’ propensity to jump to awful conclusions was basic human behavior that has been noted by research scientists for decades. "

Click to read the full article.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/25/technology/internet/25symptoms.html?th&emc=th

What I Didn't Know About Petland

I bought my Shih Tzu at the Petland on College in Fort Myers four years ago. She was small and sick, but she put her two front paws up against the glass as I went to leave and I was totally smitten.

She nearly died. She was on antibiotics by mouth every so many hours. I was still with Randy and we cared for her like she was our baby. Because she was.

It was very much touch and go at first. I kept her crate at eye-level so we could see each other all night. Every morning I was afraid to open my eyes; but Bodhi pulled through.

I had asked employees if Petland bought puppy mill puppies and they said absolutely not.

About two months ago my friend Mark asked me to meet him at Petland - he wanted help choosing a puppy. He was newly separated and in desperate need of company.

He chose a beautiful little white Maltese and named him "The Boss." The vet gave the puppy a clean bill of health.

The Boss seemed to thrive. Mark was a doting dad, took him everywhere, catered to his every whim. One night The Boss started coughing. Mark took him out of his little crate (he kept it right there on his bed) and cuddled him.

The Boss coughed one last time and died there in bed next to him.

Mark was inconsolable.

The vet said his heart gave out - probably due to overbreeding.

Today I got this from The Humane Society.

https://community.hsus.org/humane/notice-description.tcl?newsletter_id=28998582

If you love animals, please read the information and sign the petition. I do not have the strength to watch the video.

I went to Petland's site and found this:

"Petland is aware of the many animal welfare issues in the news today. We know that members of some animal rights groups would have you believe that all pet store puppies are bred and raised in substandard facilities. This is untrue."

BULLSHIT.

My little Bodhi is starting to demonstrate some symptoms that concern me. She is only four years old. She should live to 17. I wonder if she will live to half that.

I don't like saying this. I have never said it out loud. But now I know it's true - she is my little puppy mill girl.

The gray and white dog to the right of this page - that's Princess. She was a rescue. I found her online. The rescue people kept her two years before deciding to give her up. (?) They said she had been abandoned in an apartment building in New York.

They said she was a ShihTzu, but everyone tells me she's a Lhasa. I think she's a mix - she does a ballet spiral every time she pees.

The rescue people said she had separation anxiety, but she was anxious to come home with me and Bodhi. She's sweet, beautiful and she will probably outlive both of us.

My friend Rachael bought her two dogs at Petland. I remember when we first talked about it, she said "Pet store puppies need love too." That's very true.

But we both agree this has to stop.

If you've been looking for love in all the wrong places, please go to a shelter. Or rescue a pet from someone who can no longer afford to care for it.

Schadenfreude

My favorite word in the world. From the German (who else would have such a word?) - “Malicious pleasure taken from observing the misery of another.”

Our office is rife with it today. I made the mistake of telling someone about Saturday night.

Friday night was my typical Friday night, where I collapse on the couch with my soft warm bitches and go comatose. I figured this weekend I was going to make up for it Saturday night. “Woo fuckin’ hoo.”

There was big doin’s at CinCin, the upscale freak show in Fort Myers. This was a convergence of three or four singles groups, all mostly dysfunctional cliques who rarely cross over.

I posted the event to my group. It’s good for the person who organizes these groups to post events now and again. Especially since I’ve started charging $5 to join.

My biggest concern was running into one member I REALLY don’t enjoy. He reminds me of a Creative Director I worked for in Detroit … Jewish with prescription mood stabilizers and a combo napoleon complex/Nazi fraulein fantasy.

This guy I didn’t want to run into comes up to my nose. He and another short person climbed my ass when I posted a debate watch for Obama, even though I invited Republicans to post their own. He made a very big deal about never meaning to come across like the jerk he came across as; I made a mental note to avoid him like the plague from that point on.

Especially after he confessed to having downloaded my photo so he could stare at my skin.

So Saturday night I’m out and the first people I run into are friends associated with the ad agency I work for. I nabbed an outer table and we all decided to hang there. It felt a bit like a social fortress against the unknown.

Short Guy passed three times and tried to catch my eye. Like dogs watching you eat bacon from beneath a glass table. I like to think he didn’t notice I was deliberately avoiding eye contact, but I could not bring myself to wave or smile.

The temperature was beautiful, live music was drifting outside, flowered branches were literally grazing my head as I sipped my Riesling. Tealights … people in varied styles of dress, from fresh off the tennis courts to … well, I think there was a professional whore or two.

I was talking to the friend of my friend. I was told he had lost his wife three months ago. I am amazed at these people who can be married all their adult lives, lose a spouse unexpectedly and go on about their lives without falling apart.

This guy was out and about, playing golf, spending time with friends. We talked laundry technique (he was doing his own for the first time in his life) and we talked about his bereavement group at church. The conversation was a yawnerama but I was being a Good Buddhist. Compassionate.

He said he was afraid of becoming the area handyman for all available widows. I warned he could land in for far thornier situations than that.

He’s a retired auto exec from the Detroit area, so we talked about the good old days of freebies, expense accounts and people buying cars and trucks. I’m sure we know people in common.

I lost my focus for a split second and Short Guy magically appeared on my left. I stammered “Hi, how ya bin?”

He says “I had a boil.”

He rambles on about the boil for ten minutes. He is too close to my face. I resist the urge to ask him where the boil was so I can regale the people here at work with details on Monday. But I couldn’t do it. I was too grossed out.

Then he talks about his career in real estate. He is losing his house and his rental property and will have to move back into the trailer he lived in when he first moved down here.

This guy really knows how to impress a gal.

When he left, I turned to my new widower friend and said “Is it just me, or do you feel like running a warm bath and slitting your wrists?”

He laughed. Then he asked if he could take me out sometime.

I was flabbergasted. I am rarely flabbergasted. His wife’s body can’t even be cold yet. So I whipped out a business card, forced a smile and (hoping he wouldn’t) told him to give me a call.

Here at work they say I should go. I said I would much rather stay home with my dogs.

CinCin is back on my shit list. I’m going back to the beach where I don’t have to interact with anyone; I can just sit back and watch.

Trapped in Paradise

The evening I took this photo on Fort Myers Beach the air temp, water temp and my body temp were about 98.6. It was SURREAL. I have never felt or seen anything like it.

Trapped in Paradise.

I know, that sounds like a strange concept.

Went to yoga yesterday at Health & Harmony on McGregor and my Canadian friend Connie - a nurse and former professor - joined me for the first time.

She has fibromyalgia, I have Lyme Disease ... Gretchen, another friend at yoga, has CFS.

Gretchen and I have had significant relief from Iyengar Yoga. (Iyengar still teaches in his 90s. In his youth he was so ill he nearly died. His type of yoga is especially gentle and employs props.)

http://www.bksiyengar.com/

For Michigan friends - Iyengar was introduced to this country by a woman in Ann Arbor. When I sent my son a CD, I told him the CD was going back where it all began.

Anyway ... it is my hope that Connie will find some relief from this program. She did sign on for a series.

During our session she could hardly kneel and I heard her joints crack. I was very worried - and surprised since she has been investing a lot of time in other exercises.

Afterwards we went to Sakura on McGregor for soup & Chinese.

Connie told me she went to Washington DC last week to put out feelers for a new job. She seemed optimistic, but I knew she's at least as sensitive to climate change as I am. I asked her if she could survive up north again and she broke down and cried. (Our poor waitress thought there was something wrong with her General Tso's.)

Truth is - it doesn't matter if she can find a job there, she can't handle it. She said she was so cold she had to stand in a hot shower until she was warm enough to move again.

What a nice concept, to imagine you could move anywhere for work. It's just an unrealistic dream for some of us.

The temperature dropped 25 degrees in the last 24 hours. I am too cheap to mess with the thermostat and I'm damned if I will live in Southwest Florida and EVER use the furnace.

This morning I woke at 9 feeling like a stone. A stone in pain.

It's Sunday, I told myself I could sleep another 20 minutes. I finally limped downstairs and looked at my watch, thinking it had broken. It said 2:15.

I had breakfast well past lunchtime, fed the dogs, took them outside and had to go back to bed. I am 100 years old. Everything hurts. Thankfully, it's Godfather Marathon day on AMC and I caught True Blood and Californication tonight.

At this exact moment I think I'll be OK to go to work tomorrow. Everything I watch on cable ... I think about how I can apply ideas to our advertising campaigns. So it's not like I'm a 9 to 5-er. It's like they rent the demented portion of my brain 24/7.

But it's embarrassing to be coping with this shit, it makes me seem my age at the office. I am the oldest one there - although I don't think I seem like it.

I have enough vacation time left that I could easily go back to Michigan and see family over the holidays - but it would hit me so hard physically, I fear for the repurcussions. Last time I went north - August - I survived the giant temperature changes up there, came home and was sick for two months.

It saps my energy, leaving me susceptible to bugs and viruses.

My granddaughters are growing up without me. I have friends I'll probably never see again.

If I ever have to go back there to live year-round, I imagine I would be like a cripple. Or - like Connie and I agreed - we would shave 15 years off our lives.

It just sort of amazes me that nobody ever talks about this, about people who have to move here because they cannot survive in the cold.

Or - on a more positive level - about the people up north who endure cold and darkness who could be living fuller, more active, FAR more productive lives down here.

The Not-So-Magic Kingdom

Our new designer is acting like she died and went to heaven. We have so many off-the-wall females here it's like a slumber party without pillows.

This new one says the vibe at Disney is so paranoid, people were afraid to let her do her job.

She said internally they call it "Mouschwitz."

Within hours I got a link to this.

If you watch, you can almost smell the unbridled rage of Orlando's design team being poured into senseless creative brilliance ... and their hours being piled onto unsuspecting job numbers. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdi48oUdZP0

Full Moon in South Fort Myers; Lettuce Depart

I woke up at 4 a.m. with the moonlight streaming in my windows and I could NOT get back to sleep.

The Robe was on ... Richard Burton, Jean Simmons (not the one with KISS) ... I can remember being awestruck the first time I saw this thing.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Robe_(film)

These old movies are hilarious 50 years later ... Richard Burton really didn't have the legs for a skirt that short; however, Victor Mature is incredibly hot spread eagle in the torture scene.

They are all so pious and reverent on camera ... you know they partied like pigs between takes. The guy who played Caligula comes across as gay as Elton John's poolboy; according to Wikipedia he's twice wed, so my gaydar must be off.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jay_Robinson

God I love Wikipedia.

So after that it was the local news and some wolf-hybrid is loose in Lehigh killing cows. Full moon, a powerful wolf that had busted loose from a cop van ... they were telling people in the area to stay inside. I'm not making this up.
http://www.news-press.com/article/20081112/NEWS0103/81112107/1005/ACC

Comments are hilarious in terms of how many miles per kibble this new hybrid gets.

Made a salad for work before leaving. Put the dressing in a separate container. When I took the dogs out for their last walk, I set my bags on the ground near the driver side door and the salad/dressing on the roof.

You guessed it. I pulled out and had driven about half a mile when I heard a few thuds and looked in my rear view mirror to see a trail of romaine. The dressing survived intact.

That's as good as it got.

Feeling Uncharacteristically VINDICATED

When McCain introduced Palin, my first impression was "she is every self-serving, credit grabbing bitch I have ever worked for." The Martha Stewart of politics.

In truth I have only been exposed to her type two or three times in my long career. Yes, I am blessed. One was the owner of Marketing Dimensions in my home state. In my head I always called that place "Marketing Dementia". This woman denied our request to hire a talented photographer because he was black.

Her passive, sweet-natured husband was poster child for PW and her son was so pampered kids at his wealthy private school beat him up at Christmas and shat in his hat.

I'm NOT making this up.

Those of you who wonder at my rages against Palin ... I knew her when I saw her. Women are DEEPLY intuitive when it comes to other women.

Sometimes you just have to trust us.

Now the media is catching up with Palin. Check this out ... AdAge called it "brand suicide." Here's an excerpt.

"Over at Slate, for instance, Daniel Gross, in a piece titled "The Day McCain Lost the Election," zeroed in three gross media miscalculations: McCain's clueless Sept. 15 "fundamentals of our economy are strong" declaration; his faux "I'm suspending my campaign" announcement of Sept. 24; and, beginning on Oct. 15, during the third presidential debate, his decision to fixate on the boneheaded (and factually incorrect) economic insight of Joe the Plumber (even as Barack Obama was soberly huddling with the likes of Paul Volcker and Warren Buffett).

In hindsight, yep, those were flawed, self-destructive calls (as were other major and minor screw-ups, like lying to David Letterman), but surely we'll see increasing consensus that McCain's real moment of ruin was his impulsive selection of Sarah Palin as his running mate."

Here's a link to the whole article, it's worth reading. (Even if the heading is about the worst ever.)

http://adage.com/mediaworks/article?article_id=132332

Dogfest, Henfest, Wordfest, Sandfest

When I walked into the agency for my first interview I saw a fully stocked bar to my left and a dog toy in the hallway.

I knew I was home.

Friday was a typical day except that we had six dogs instead of "just" five. (Parker, our Media Planner's Yorkie above.)

My Princess and Bodhi are down on the right somewhere ... Princess is gray and white, Bodhi is black and white. You need to know this because I will be talking about them further down.

We need to change our agency credentials to TV, Radio, Direct Mail and Doggy Day Care.

Our Lady of Cocktails (and company VP) was puppysitting a friend's 7 week old Imperial ShihTzu. She had had enough - the baby was barking and biting and she dumped her off in the office of an account person at the extreme end of our gulag.

I literally ran over to see it.

She is a tiny brown puppy, about the size of Bodhi when she was a baby. I asked if I could take her and Ti said BE MY GUEST. She was quite a pain in the ass.

For everyone but me.

ShihTzus are bred to be worshipped. You NEED to know that.

I established all 3 lbs. of her on my desk, where she blended in totally with my faux mahogany. I was given permission to paint my office any color and assured them I'd have it looking like an opium den in no time. It is pale lavender with beachy stuff all over the place; the antique mirror has a frame with shells I found on Sanibel - there are buddhas, candles, tarot paperbacks, a 2' stack of quote books, a dictionary bigger than my car and two plush dog beds.

Most creatives I know are cave dwellers. I like to keep my cave dimly lit. I put the puppy's chew toys, kibble and water to my left; I turned out that particular lamp so she could have darkness for sleep.

Coworkers came in with cameras wanting to take pictures but she was nearly invisible.

I put a towel in under her and cuddled her between my pillowy bosom of despair and my computer; she was sleeping with her chin on my arm ... and typing was a bitch.

She got somewhat restless occasionally and seemed to enjoy stepping on my keyboard. I didn't lose any files, but she added excessive spacing to my radio scripts and climbed a pile of papiers to pee on my To Do List; which was fine by me.

When she started biting (teething) I told her NO! She growled and barked. There is nothing funnier than something that cute and that small attempting to be menacing.

The company owner came in to talk and leaned over to nuzzle her. Sometimes I think to myself that is just the greatest place in the world to work; at other times I think it will eat my brain. (Actually, at this age, the constant barrage of information is probably HELPING it.)

Princess may have had puppies before because she was cool with this little one. Bodhi looked at me ... no, she couldn't even bring herself to look at me. She was in a ShihTzu rage, which is quite like a Finnish Rage, just as silent except you can't tell if she's pouting because she doesn't have jowls. Or if she does, the beard hides them.

I was bummed when the owner came for the baby. I bond too quickly ...

The day was nearly over when our associates from another company walked in ... and The Queen of Cocktails lived up to her name. I decided to join them for once and we had a fine time. I immediately picked up on obscure Sam Kinison references and decided they might be ok after all.

The Queen talked about entering a dancing contest and I asked if there would be poles. (Made one of the "other" guys snort their drink.)

After the boys left it turned into a henfest. Me, The Queen and our Business Manager decided to have "one more". The BM wanted to know what was going on in the pants - shaved, unshaved, Brazilian ... I said I'm a Democrat, NO MORE BUSH!!! (Our proverbial and actual 300 lb. black guy had joined us by then and we high-fived.) Then I clarified - why mow the lawn when nobody's coming over to play.

I only had two drinks but the hangover was nearly immediate. Stopped at Burger King for ground cow flesh and felt like a total asshole.

Saturday morning I got to catch up on my Jon Stewart/Stephen Colbert. On election night I was glued to MSNBC, I could not handle commercials. So I missed Stewart/Colbert's Indecision 2008. I caught it yesterday.

My favorite part was John Oliver's report .. he said the economy is so bad Americans are sending scam emails to Nigerian princes. Said we owe China so much money the Chinese are now legally entitled to own us as pets.

Samantha B reported from McCain headquarters, where they were claiming Obama had released flesh eating bacteria into children's juice boxes.

When the election results were made final, it was clear that Stewart and Colbert were holding back tears. It was so cool.

I think you can still see it at indecision2008.com

In my own ongoing saga of financial hardship, my dentist is holding my new crown hostage. I lost part of a tooth to a fresh, delicious tortilla chip at Iguana Mia last winter, leaving a blackened stub on my upper left; I had to stop smiling for nine months. Now I have to wait maybe two paydays until I can get the temporary removed and the permanent applied. My fingers are crossed that the temporary will hold.

This is weird. At yoga yesterday I got a cramp and Mistress Sondra told us that the accupressure solution is to press the area between the bottom of your nose and top of your upper lip. It works!

This is disturbing. I read in "Psychologies" that we are approximately 15% less attractive than we think we are. I'm gonna need a bigger closet .. or burkas.

And I have two major word quandaries ...

WHERE DID "VETTED" COME FROM!? If you're going to invent a new word, you need to TELL people. At Rabbit Hash, Kentucky, the animals that were running for Mayor were all "Vetted" but that makes SENSE.

Well, maybe the word came about when McCain selected the pit bull ... I like to think she's back on the leash now. Sorry about your luck, now go learn to be a nice person.

And who on earth named the latest James Bond movie. "Quantum of Solace"?! What the FUCK. Whoever chose that name assumed most Americans have dictionaries. I doubt they do.

Still, this new Bond is really hot so my point is moot.

Today is sand sculptures out at the beach, but the snowbirds are back in force. I don't know if it's going to be worth sitting in traffic.

Happy Birthday RM if you're still reading this. Have a safe trip down.

HATE BASED CHRISTIAN GROUPS

How ironic, there is a typo in this cartoon. Well, I'm too tired and cranky to replace it with one that doesn't.

It has been a great 32 hours, I was looking forward to coming in here and having some fun. Then I checked my emails.

There were two racist jokes (from an unhappy McCain suporter) and one right wing rant about some Muslim stamp.

I told the McCain supporter he's just going to have to try to make under a quarter million next year. In his case I ignored the jokes, he was trying to bait me and I chose not to bite.

As for the Muslim rant ... that was just too much. I "replied all" and said PLEASE take me off these hate based Christian emails; Jesus didn't attack people who weren't like him. What gives you the right?" (I know my Bible! Don't they?)

The ignorance in this country is MIND BOGGLING. To say all Muslims are bad is the same as saying all Christians are bad. There are zealots in both groups.

Zealots come from factions that break into cults. I know, I was in one. I was raised Jehovah's Witness from the tender age of TWO. I can remember being too little to reach doorbells, so I had to knock. Yes, I went door to door. No holidays, no birthdays, no standing to salute the flag, no standing for the national anthem, no "worldly" (non-JW) friends.

It's hard enough being a kid, imagine being raised to be like that. When you're a kid you don't have a choice.

When you grow towards adulthood you start noticing things. Like they said "the true religion doesn't contradict itself." They said Armageddon was coming but "no man knows the day or the hour". Then they said it would come by 1975 and all who were not Witnesses would be destroyed.

Note to self ... this all contradicts.

As a teenager, dating was discouraged. Girls were encouraged to hook up with honorable JW guys. I was only 15 when I met mine. His father and grandfather were elders. We were married three years later, both virgins on our wedding night.

When I got pregnant his family was upset because "the end was coming". Their exact words were, "Well, suppose there's nothing you can do about it, is there?" (Note subtle reference to abortion??)

I was terrified to be pregnant because blood transfusions were against our religion."The life is in the blood" they said. (Well, then, what good is the blood without the life??)

I knew one woman who bled out and died during delivery. I knew JW mothers who were willing to let their children die.

I knew one personally - her son was burned severely in a fire and she was ready to let him go. This is so weird, I can picture her face. It was bony and pinched and she wore wigs. She was a tragic figure.

Hospital officials had to get a court order to save the child's life. I was just a kid when that went down. 19 in 1970 was a lot younger than 20 today; especially when you grow up in a cult. You are naive beyond belief. ("Big Love" gives me shudders and flashbacks.)

When I got pregnant my husband's family was dismayed that we were so stupid. "The end was coming."

I found one of the few doctors in the area who specialized in JWs. He respected our wishes. When I was on the operating table having my son by c-section I heard him say "she has rH negative blood." Drugged as I was, I knew there was no question I would do anything he recommended for my baby if there was a problem. Anything else was insanity.

That was my epiphany.

I won't even go into what came after that. Let me just say I have survived many horrible times in my life, but that took the cake. At 24 I bailed, quit the religion and quit the marriage. Today my son is grown and happily married with two children of his own.

A cult is a cult. If you suspect there is something wrong with your religion, LOOK CLOSELY.

There is SOMETHING WRONG when you are discouraged from having friends outside of the group.

There is SOMETHING WRONG when women are treated like second class citizens.

There is SOMETHING WRONG when people are measured by the color of their skin.

There is SOMETHING HORRIBLY WRONG when your pastor preaches hate from the podium.

Now I have gone all ape-shit angry on Christine for her zealotry and hatred of Barack, but it grieves me because I know there is good in her. I apologize for my rage, but I will no longer sit silent in the face of bigotry. I will not be part of the hate.

I try to be a good Buddhist and part of that is to SPEAK MY TRUTH.

I WILL call people on their despicable, divisive behaviors.

If we quietly accept the racial slur or joke, we are condoning. If we remain silent when we get hate emails, we are guilty. Like they say, if we're not part of the solution, WE ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM.

Please speak out.

If more good people speak out, maybe we can force some change.

Mini-Rant About Hate Based Christianity

I'm at work and the phone rings. It's my friend Gina, former Jew for Jesus, still Christian, but currently churchless. A mortgage broker who's mortgageless.

There's a theme here. It's a sign of the times.

The last time I saw her we were starry eyed about Obama, drinkin' the drinks and talkin' the talk. It's always nice to share an evening with someone with the same level of obsession.

I am still in shock that Obama won. For me to want something so desperately ... well, it almost always backfires.

My opinions are typically the kiss of death.

So the phone is ringing and I'm thinking she wants to bask in the morning-after glory of election night ... only it's not like her to bask during working hours. I picked up thinking it had to be important.

I had to pull the phone away from my ear - she was SHRIEKING. "THAT FUCKING CHRISTINE!!!" And she's off ... Christine is the person who has been sending me the dead and aborted baby emails. Sends these horrors to someone who never had one, never woulda had one and is past ever having to worry about it.

I only tolerate her because her non-psycho self has an animal rights agenda and ... well, who wouldn't go to jail to free a critter or two?

She will not accept that I am a Buddhist. Well, as you can plainly see, I suck at being a Buddhist. But that's where my heart is. I believe in Jesus too, but I won't tell anyone because I don't want the stench of those judgmental right wing control freaks anywhere near me.

So Gina says Christine lured her into a conversation that seemed innocuous but immediately turned to election results. Gina said something perky like "isn't it great! Our first black president!!"

Christine went nuclear - informed Gina that Obama is most certainly the antichrist, out for world domination(??), and Gina is not a real Christian if she voted for him.

SMOKE was coming out of Gina's ears.

SMOKE was coming out of MY ears from hearing that shit.

Gina told her it's UNCHRISTIAN TO JUDGE PEOPLE.

I told Gina it's insane to waste a moment of time with toxic people. I asked her which church Christine goes to, what church dispenses this level of hate?

Assembly of God in Cape Coral.

I would truly like to know if this shit is being taught from the pulpit or if Christine is just a rogue whack job. Because if this shit is being preached from a local church, the FBI had better start investigating.

Hate that runs this deep can easily be stirred into acts I won't even put into words.

Christine? If you ever run across this blog? This is for you.

I dedicate this historic night ...

To my stepdad, John Lopez, who marched with Martin Luther King Jr. back in the 60s. (Photo taken last April when we all went to brunch on the Sanibel Princess.)

I called him the second I heard about Barack's win and congratulated him for all his hard work for all these many years.

His health has been very fragile. I told him "you have truly seen it all." He said "Now I can relax!"

I haven't heard him laugh in a long time. What a great feeling.

He and my mother have been campaigning hard in Gogebic County in Michigan's UP; the hard work paid off and the county voted Democrat.

My Jamaican friend from work texted, ecstatic. Before we left work I told her about being afraid to have an Obama sticker on my car in Florida. She says her mother felt the same way.

My last conversation about the election was just around 3. Our Business Manager asked why I was voting for Obama. I said partly because McCain would never survive, partly because he would be replaced by Palin and mostly because when you go to an Obama event you see every age and color - black, white, yellow and red. That is what this country is. What you see at a McCain event is what America was 50 years ago.

I said no single man has all the answers, but I trust him to surround himself with our best and brightest. I believe Obama will bring us together.

When I told her why I was pro-Obama I feared I was one of the few. I did not expect Florida to vote Obama. I am so proud to be wrong.

I am so proud that my little white beater with the Obama sticker now demonstrates a visionary edge over the massive Hummers with McCain stickers that ride my pathetic 4 cylinder ass each morning and night.

God Bless all the people who worked so hard to make this day in history.

Doug Edgar, Detroit area Cop who called Barack a Muslim and otherwise insulted my judgment for one hellish afternoon off Sanibel last March - you are what I said you are; a bigot. At least now you know what it's like to be a minority.

Election Day in Florida

We're not red, we're not blue, we're ecru. A tie state. It's going to be an interesting night after an interesting weekend.

Fell asleep on the couch Friday night with a cool breeze coming in from the lanai. This FEELS like Indian summer. It's cool enough to start kayaking again.

Was a little late for yoga on Saturday and was forced to sit in front, within striking distance of the instructor. I said as much and the whole class laughed; from then on Mistress Sondra was on my case, teasing, smacking and asking for assistance helping with the newbies.

After yoga I went to vote. The woman in front of me was knitting socks. I said "you could have seven toes before we get in there to vote." We got to talking, she teaches writing at FGCU. I was expecting a three to four hour wait, but it was only two. Everyone was friendly and respectful.

Afterwards I had a chance to stop at the local fisherman's shack near my condo. I know, it sounds creepy - roadside fish. Up north they sell corn like this ... near the road with hand-made signs. I was afraid to try it, but my friend Connie (the Canadian Nurse) recommended it.

I bought a bag of giant shrimp (contradiction in terms) for $15.00. I asked if I could throw it in the freezer and got a look that said ARE YOU FROM URANUS OR SOMETHING?? I hate cleaning shrimp, it's disgusting but Omigod. I threw them in a pot of boiling water and they came out plump, white and delicious. Tonight will be my last handful for dinner.

I will never buy frozen again.

Saturday night Donna and I introduced Peggy (from Connecticut) to Fort Myers Beach at night. She was dressed to the teeth. I told her she needs to start wearing clothes she wouldn't mind wrecking. "Dress like you're going kayaking". Also less jewelry. Peggy had gonzo diamonds everywhere. Been there, done that - it's just really not safe (or appropriate) in this day and time. We showed her downtown, Times Square, Local Color and wound up eating at The Cottage. Just another incredible night on the beach.

The Barking Shark is closed. That has me a little worried, I love going there to destroy my ear drums on weekends.

Got home and I could have gotten a contact buzz from eau de pot pouring out of my neighbor's windows.

On Sunday I went back to the beach for a long walk, about four or five miles from the pier to Junkanoo and back. This is totally paradise. Stopped at the Silver Witch and replaced my fake Lauren silver hoops (purchased for $25) for real silver for $18. The woman was offering 20% discounts, asked me if I was local - an gave me an extra 10%. It really is a small town when you live here.

Last night before leaving work I took a black magic marker to a large McCain photo, giving him flaring nostrils, nose hair, a curling moustache and arrow through the head. I left it on our Resident Jamaican's desk for morning. Ya Mon.

When I got home my neighbor was outside feeding her cat. She asked if I knew when the polling locations were opening in the morning. She still hadn't decided who she was voting for ... I said I'd never had any doubt. She said she thought Obama should submit his birth certificate and prove he's an American.

??? WTF ???

I ventured into chick territory and brought up the importance of choice. Told her about the dead baby emails, aerial hunting, every yucky fact that might impress an authentic hippie chick animal lover. I may have struck a chord and hope I swayed at least one vote for the team.

So now it's election day. My boss reminded us that - because we're in a historically Republican state - we're seeing a distorted view of what's happening in the national elections.

Like anyone who gives a shit, I am on pins and needles. My boss - who has worked for other campaigns - believes Barack has it IN THE BAG.

I hope so.