One Down...

I think I got rid of the creepy ex-boyfriend.  While it was the 40+ year old sexual obsession that really bothered me, I got him to go away by calling him out on being a liar.

He told me that he couldn't be friends on Facebook because he had promised his wife not to contact old girlfriends.  I told him that if he was doing something that he had to cover up, or that he would have lied about if confronted, then he shouldn't be doing it.  (The exception would be planning a surprise party.)  I also said that I have no room in my life for liars.

So, he's gone. 

Obsession is Creepy!

I don't think that I am a particularly remarkable person.  I'm above average in intelligence, above average in height, but probably not overly endowed with skills involving interacting with people.  Which is why I'm finding it somewhat disturbing that more than one person from high school seems to be still obsessed with me. 

The ex-boyfriend, despite being married to someone else for 35+ years with children and grand-children tells me about fantasies of us being half-naked and indulging in "rampant sexual activity" on a tropical island with coconuts.  Dude, I dumped you.  While I would love to be friends with you now, islands and coconuts aren't going to happen.

More disturbing is a woman.  She was not ever a good friend.  Back in high school she only invited me along to things if she needed a car and driver, otherwise I heard about fun things she did with other people.  I found some very distorted stuff she wrote about me on an internet forum.  She calls me her "best friend", even though I haven't reached out to her to do things that friends do for years.  An ex-boyfriend with sexual fantasies I can somewhat understand, but a woman who treated me like shit in high school still obsessing over me?  That's scary.

Chance

My dog Chance has passed away.  He refused dinner on Saturday, and on Sunday he quietly stopped breathing.

He was a very good boy, and will be missed.

Pets and Peeves

I've come to the conclusion that people who start sentences with "I want you to..." and end them with what they think you should do to your hair, or how you should clean your house, or what you should do with your life aren't interested in being a friend, or even having any type of adult relationship.  What they want is a pet, but one that can feed itself and poops in the toilet and knows how to flush.

I've been lazy about getting out and taking photos lately, so here's one of a puppy.  You know, for the people who want a pet.

Yikes!

I haven't posted anything lately.  I couldn't get into the blog!  For some reason the little bar at the top where you can sign in and create a new post was sucked into some black hole in cyber land.  As it turns out, this is opposite of the usual problem.  The blog isn't working properly in Firefox or Chrome, but is quite its normal self in IE. 

Good thing that nothing major happened.  Well, except for my 60th birthday (thanks to Jack for the lovely birthday dinner-paella and a nice craft beer).

Carry on.

One of my Meetup groups had an outing to the Automotive Museum.  I had never been there, I found it interesting.  (Now I need to go to the Hall of Champions, and I'll have been to all of the Balboa Park museums.)  They had a special "steampunk" exhibit, so there were some good artsy-fartsy photo ops.

A Day at the Beach

A couple of weeks ago I had an appointment in La Jolla, and was meeting some friends near there a few hours later.  Instead of driving 25 miles home and 25 miles back I went to the beach with the camera.

When I was done I still had more time to kill, so I went to the aquarium.

Then I ate some Chinese food and drank a couple of beers.

The end.

Dare I Hope?

It appears that my former friend (the one who lied to me and about me) may have finally given up on cyber stalking me. My sister claims that she has "finally" stopped calling her to "ask how I'm doing" (reality-get fodder for her gossip).  I'm not sure I trust that, my sister was most definitely the source of reporting what I said about the former friend on Facebook, none of which was untrue, unlike what my former friend said about me to my sister and others.  The sad thing is that my sister parroted the lies to my mother, and the frenzy of the gossip that my family loves to indulge in was pretty nasty.

Hopefully she's gone for good.  I will now relish the friendship of people who actually like me.  The old stuff will float away.

Sometimes

When you see a certain name show up on the caller ID, and it's after 9 pm, you just don't answer because you know it's "drunk dialing", and you have better things to do.  Such as watching an episode of Games of Thrones.

A Day in the Park

Okay, just an afternoon really.  But it was an interesting outing.

A Street Performer

Birds available for adoption

 

 Jugglers

 

 A concert

 

 Dramatic Sky

 

With a happy hour drink (or two) with a friend in the middle, a very nice afternoon.

 

It's National Dog Day!

We had an adoption event.  Funny, for a German Shepherd rescue, the dog that got the most attention was Eddie, the last of our mixed breed litter.  Here he is with his human foster brother.  As a side note, the little boy was quite upset at having to leave Eddie behind today.  He's going to the vet to get his dangly parts removed.  He'll be back with his foster family on Wednesday.

I spotted puppy Jake being cute on the lawn, so I tried to get a photo.  Jake decided that my camera required a closer inspection.

The good news, he didn't get close enough to add the usual "dog nose print" smudge to the lens.

Why I Love Facebook

I avoided FB for years, convinced it was just a My Space copy cat, and only young people were on it.  When I found out a lot of friends my age and even older had FB accounts (including two of my aunts) I signed up.  I enjoy the quick interaction with friends old and new.

I've found old friends, old friends have found me.  Most have been happy reunions, although one classmate from high school was deleted because he only posted political stuff and every post involved name calling of the people in the other party.  I'm not into hateful politics.

In two days I will be meeting a former co-worker for lunch.  We worked together at a savings and loan in Beverly Hills in the late 70's.  I quit the job, lost touch with people there, he moved to Florida.  He found me on Facebook. 

The guy in this photo (from 19 mumble mumble) found me there too.

Failures!

Of the power kind.  Power went out at my house, so I figured I'd go do my grocery shopping.  It came back on just as I was going out the door.

I got to the store.  It was closed, no power.  It looked like everything else on the street had power, just not the store I wanted to go to.

Today, electricity was not my friend.

Side note-when the power goes out so does the wi-fi.

Jeepers, Creepers!

Here's an interesting article about Facebook "Creepers".  In case you don't feel like reading it, it says that a large majority of jilted lovers stalk their exes on Facebook.  Sometimes they've been "unfriended" (which is only a word in FB-land) so they use another person's account to keep tabs on the stalkee (which is also not a real word, but it should be).

I will admit to using Google on occasion when I had thoughts of old boyfriends or friends and briefly wondered what happened to them.  Sometimes it's not a good idea, for instance Google tells me that a long ago co-worker drowned while doing her first ocean dive.  I don't however secretly read Facebook updates or blogs or fish for information from other people to keep track of people who are no longer in my life.  I'm not conceited enough to imagine that anyone would do that to me either.  I can't imagine that I'm important enough for someone to obsess over what I'm doing to cyber-stalk me, but if they did I would find it really creepy.

It did come to my attention that things I said on Facebook were repeated to someone, but since I never said anything that I wouldn't have said to her face I'm disappointed that the "friend" would tattle on me, but in the end no real harm was done.  I am now more careful about what I post online.  Some of what goes on in my life shouldn't be fodder for gossipers.

More Liars in the News

The director of a "no kill" animal shelter had apparently told people that if they gave a donation they could assure that a particular dog wouldn't be killed.  She took the donations, transferred animals to the kill shelter next door (that she also ran) and sent emails to the donors saying that the dead dogs had been adopted.  She was fired, and is facing criminal charges.  Story is here:  Bogg's Mountain Fraud

Another case involved a dog that was the mascot of a college.  A worker left the dog outside too long in the heat, the dog died, the worker lied and said the dog got out and was missing.  This liar was also fired.

I just don't understand people who think that lying is a good idea, you have to be really, really smart to get away with it.  I might have thought ill of someone who did something wrong, but when the lie is uncovered (and it always is) I think even less of them.

In case anyone thinks I've gone completely bonkers...

...the previous post was at the request of DAC, and is part of a joke.  I don't really think that he invented an evil sock sucking machine.

Although, I'm not fully convinced that he didn't cheat on Robert Pattinson.

Edited to add:  I think that I can greatly increase my blog readership by somehow incorporating the phrase "Who Is Douglas Anthony Cooper" into every post.  I'll have to work on ways to do this.

WHO IS DOUGLAS ANTHONY COOPER?

I must ask your forgiveness for interupting my usual blather about my really boring life to educate you about Douglas Anthony Cooper.

I don't like him.  He stole my socks.  The thing is, he also stole your socks.  He is an evil genius, and has invented a machine that will suck any socks lost while doing laundry into his vile, rented, abode that he shares with an equally evil hairless dog.  The dog is reported to eat socks, so that is perhaps why the evil Douglas Anthony Cooper invented the evil sock-sucking machine.  I've heard rumors that he keeps a jar of toe-jam in his refrigerator, perhaps he spreads the jam on the socks he serves to the dog.

He recently cheated on Robert Pattinson.  He claimed that it was because Robert doesn't wear socks, but I think it's because he was jealous of Rob's clearly superior toe jam.

Blue Whales

Black Sea Nettle.  Apparently they only show up here every four years or so.  Tentacles up to 25 feet long. 

Went out on the yacht America again to look for blue whales.  Found some! Dolphins too.

Abuse is Abuse!

I went to see a play today that was written by a dear friend.  It was part of the projects of Heartfelt Voices United and their mission is "To encourage and support survivors of sexual assault, domestic violence, and child abuse." 

The abuse I suffered as a child wasn't sexual.  It was emotional and physical.  My mother had a broom closet full of yard sticks that had been broken across the backs of my legs.  There was no way to avoid the beatings, I had no idea of what would set her off.  There were no rules, just constant tension and terror.  I have absolutely no memory of any reason why I was beaten, just of the look on her face as she swung the yard sticks and the feeling of hopelessness.

I used to beg to be able to go to boarding school.  The one time the cheap-ass bitch coughed up money for me to go to camp I was surprised that other girls were homesick.  Camp was heaven!  No one there was screaming at me or chasing me through the house to hit me with a yard stick.  I was half tempted to hide in a tent instead of boarding the bus home.

I think that the lack of maternal love was the reason that I made bad choices.  Attached myself to  "friends" in high school who only invited me places when they needed a car and a driver.  Was a bit loose (okay, more than a bit) with the body because I craved affection and I thought that sex would be a way to get it.  It wasn't.

The saddest part is that my mother not only won't apologize, she denies that any of this ever happened.  She contends that she was a good mother.  She escorted me into a lifetime of bad choices because I sought the love I never got from her. 

The main point of the play was that you need to talk, you need to tell your stories.  Until you tell the story you will not be free from the abuse prison.  This is just a part of my story, but it's a start.

My "Eccentric" Take on Pet Food

Apparently, besides being a raging alcoholic I'm bat-shit crazy because I choose to feed raw food to my dogs.  I don't usually link to other blogs, but this is a great article written by my friend who runs an animal shelter:  Bella, Raw Food and the AVMA

Seriously.  I think that anyone who refuses to do the research and refuses to understand canine nutritional needs is the crazy person.

Thoughts about "health care".

First of all, there is a difference between "health care" and "health coverage."  Anyone can get health care.  Maybe not the best, and someone will want you to pay for it later, but anyone can be treated at an ER.

I had no coverage, and ended up in the ER and then hospitlized.  I was amused when I read that I supposedly told someone that I hadn't sought care because there was no one to look after my dogs.  I would have never said that, since it wasn't true.  The real reason was that I had no insurance.  I hoped the problem would get better.  It didn't.

Fast forward.  I now have insurance.  I have an ugly thing on my neck, and I want to get it resolved.  Cute young female doctor wants me to get a CT scan and see a surgeon.  I made the appointments, but at 8 pm on the night before the CT scan I get a phone call that "someone" (cute young female doctor) forgot to also order a blood test.  Clueless woman on phone couldn't tell me exactly what I needed to do, couldn't tell me why I needed to get a test, probably didn't even know why she called me.  I had to reschedule the CT, and go visit the vampires.

Here's a good thing.  My kidney function is .1 above the best, and way below any cause for concern.  For this I need to extend the appointments (that I've been trying to get since June 1st) for another week?  Yippee!

My Cute Little Sign

Well, it WAS mine, but it disappeared while I was in the hospital.  I guess someone didn't appreciate the message.  I liked it, and it was a gift. 

What have I been up to?

-Shooting photos for a charity soccer tournament.  Still editing and uploading.

-A couple of beers with a friend at Dick's Last Resort to watch the zombie walk.  No photos this year.

-Meet-up group photo shoot at Ballast Point Brewery.  Beer tasting.  Growler of BP Calico Amber Ale in the fridge.  I'll open it tomorrow, growlers must be consumed within a day or two, and I wasn't in the mood for massive beer consumption tonight because I have an adoption event tomorrow morning.  ("Became more devoted to rescue" was one of the reasons a certain person used to label me as becoming deranged.   I have no better place to spend a Sunday than with wonderful dogs who are looking for homes.)

I made a delightful discovery today. A friend and I went up the mountain for some wine tasting, (I had a Groupon) and on the way back to the car we checked out the bead store. They have an absolutely stunning selection. I told the woman working that I have a bead problem. I love them. I buy them. I never do anything with them, and sometimes give them away to people that will actually do something with them. She made me promise to come back, we'll have a couple of glasses of wine (she works at the wine tasting room on the weekends) and we can play with beads. If you're headed to Julian, check out this lovely place: Mountain Beadworks

Back Pain Sucks!

I never had back problems until someone somehow tricked me into carrying a TV while walking backwards and managed to shove it into me so that my back twisted.  That said, I think that I'll have to convince my tall friends to schedule our Friday get togethers at places that have comfortable chairs.  Those stupid wooden chairs with no butt cushions and no real back support seriously suck.  I'm sitting here with my heated flax seed pillow, contemplating drugs. 

Would it be too "little old lady" to bring my own lumbar cushion to a bar?

For the Liars Amoung Us...

If you think you got away with lying to me or about me, you are mistaken.

Independence Day!

Hoping everyone had a lovely day spent with family and friends.  Here's part of the pack that I spent the day with.  (The two legged friends were good too.)

I Could Spit Nails!

A former Facebook friend (former as of a few minutes ago) posted that he thought it bad karma to kill a stink bug.  The thing is, this ass wipe previously boasted about trapping feral cats and sending them off to be killed at the shelter.  Killing a bug carries worse karma than killing a cat?  Perhaps the dip shit thinks that since he didn't stick the needle in the cats that the karma isn't on him?  And he got a bit nasty when I called him on the discrepancy.  His posts aren't all that interesting anyway.  Bye bye butt head.

This cute feral cat that hangs out in my yard sometimes would be dead if that guy had his way.

I reached a conclusion.

My life is pretty darn boring. 

I did go on a photo shoot this week, and one of my favorite fellow shooters was there.  I also made a new friend who liked my comment (we were at the Mission) that if he wanted to shoot religions statues there were plenty of dead Jesuses on the grounds. It was a fun day, and we had a nice lunch.

I've wasted a good chunk of today reading this bog I found: Resume Roasts.

Here's some photos because I don't have any exciting tales about my fun filled life to share.