Habits

About twenty years ago, I met some people at a retreat in Michigan. Most of them were students, and a few were adults. It was a nice mix of people. I found that part of the retreat's program involved disappearing for some time in the early morning. That period was called "quiet time." There were other phrases people used, but I liked the phrase, "quiet time" the best. While you were there, you were encouraged to make the time yours, to remain isolated, to walk about and commune with nature. Then there were breaks in between for breakfast, after quiet time, and then there was time for group activities as well. While it has been many, many years since I attended that retreat, I remember meeting certain of those people.

Two, especially, were not of the group I came with, and two attended my college, although I didn't know them that well. The rest attended the same church with me.
One thing was clear about the whole group. There were all there to find discipline in themselves and their spiritual walk with God. One would possibly be surprised that young people would even set apart this time to go when summer events from all over the city called to them.

There was one person I kept in touch with for a little while. I would find him in quiet spots reading and writing. Once I stopped by to say hi. Years later, I looked him up, and his family told me he was in France, and that he would love to hear from me. Then one bright morn, I received a post card from him. Although we hardly spoke at the retreat, we were able to carry on a correspondence for a brief while by mail.
I think I did write back to him and was so thrilled that he was studying in Paris.

Another man I saw was walking dejectedly along the strand. He and I spoke for a little bit, and we connected over some sad matters. Those were the reasons he was here, he said. He also wanted to do some soul - searching and get things resolved inside himself. I told him that I had faith he would do so. We, too, connected over that time, and he gave me some advice at the end, which was to remember to be careful about the people I chose to befriend and trust in the future. Not all may be in my corner. I still remember those words over the years. I know little about these people, but I remember talking to them at this spiritual level, and I know that if I looked them up again, we would remember one another.

The girls I got to know taught me the simple elements of grace, faith, and waiting. They modeled the simple feminine graces to me, and the industriousness that comes with purpose. They were able to model this, because they had been around this before.
Some had this within themselves all their lives. Even if we never talked like we were best friends, they motivated me to live a better life when I was alone. It is easier to live life to please others, but it mattered what you did when you were alone also. From time to time, I still see them around, even if we don't have time to talk. You know that you know one another, and not much else is needed.

I had been to retreats before during grade school and high schools, and this one was just as wonderful, because to experience it at a much older age brought things to light more so than before. I miss those days, meeting the right crowd.

Today, as I venture about, I have to look over my shoulder each time. I can't find anyone really around here who cares to meet you. They model the wrong behaviors to everyone. They badmouth people to hold people back, and they think they are doing this, so they can "get ahead." They have the wrong kind of discipline, the kind that teaches bad behavior. It feels as if they have no conception of what this country is about. They act as if they need to burn people out at all times and at all places.

I wish there was a place for me to get away from them. I know this will be tough, because they try to follow me with this crazy frenzied existence that they inhabit within themselves. They are against others, nature, God, and incredibly, even themselves. These are the type of people who don't model good citizenship or even an American identity.

I can try to make excuses for them and say, well, maybe they are new here, but some have been here a long time.

When they say they believe in democracy, I tend to doubt it. They seem to behave as if they want a cynical, radical leftist state that hates anything "American" or resembles the "American" model. They call it "change," but I wonder if it is a true reform they are after, or everyone's money.

Money is essentially from God, if you trace it all the way back. We only benefit, because He is the ultimate treasurer. The storehouses seem to be depleted at all times here. They don't have a way to distribute it the correct way. In fact, even if there is a plan, there are abusers or blind implementations. The hand and the foot don't know what they're doing.

They decried the whole Carp situation. I even feel, perhaps we are being punished now, because of the mistake people made. They make the Carp the enemy, and they make other things the enemy instead of figuring out how we got here in the first place.

If we had a retreat for people to stop and resolve to do better, I wonder if it would work. These people are so head - strong and rebellious, however, in this game of burning the country out like a dynamite stick. They all seem to have this same mentality and disease. We have too many of them around in government and all areas.
The ones who deplete, and then in order to replace it, they steal from the people and others to put it back. I think this is what the energy today is all about.

Then there are those who are dressing or pretending to be different races to cause a rift between nationalities. This started happening more or less in the nineties. I think they wanted to say I was from other countries, a way to make it easier for others to stereotype and then attack me. The order of insults seems to be sequential: "m-f-----," "negra," "Snitch," "lesbiana," and then it's cyclical again, but the next time, it is as a different race. This sabotage seems to be conducted by the same people, because the behavior is always the same.

They have a definite lust for other people's time, resources, money, and when they are down, they raze the entire state, and the rest of the United States.

I wish I could escape this evil gauntlet. They are not what this country needs.

Thread: Storms in Note

Thread: Storms in Note

We survived storms last night that really were frightening to the people outside and to the cats inside. It would have been spectacular, had I witnessed it. I was other- wise engaged reading and writing online, when the worst of it landed. It set off alarms, and I had to figure out how to turn off the sound. The cats seemed to prefer the safe spot under beds, and they were actually clever in their choice.

I have been out in storms before as a student/commuter before, and in those days,I often would find myself without an umbrella. I would leave it on the train or lose it somewhere. They were always my favorite shades. So, it would leave me dejected.

I was pulling up some news on dignitaries around the world when the storm hit. Then I heard the sound. It seemed to remind me of the moment when the Scottish Clan lords challenged each other to battle, and one eventually won. Of course, I'm being humorous, but I was thinking of the series on television, "Highlander."

Today, it is wonderful and sunny. I prefer either state. I have no objection to nature's whims, but I do believe men and their trite activities are the subject of nature's fury. That theory is obviously unproven, but the timing of certain factors seems to come to play when nature roars her fatal gleaming and thunderous resonance around the world around us.

I stretched my body today and worked on morning household duties today. I did have time to make coffee, of course, but that is not the only reward. Feeling cleansed and purged, and the stretching that frees otherwise stiff limbs, is not a daily gift for many people. I enjoy the luxury of this when I can. I can hear myself and my body breathe as I move about. It feels like you are accomplishing something.

Writing seems to be freeing and engaging as well, but it is not like the act of walking. Da Vinci explored the benefits of walking, I believe, although I think he used sketches of the anatomy and called it alignment and such, referring to the body.
I still want to stretch now, and if it becomes a type of addiction, I would welcome that.

I made breakfast, and I think I was too full to finish it. I can have it later at lunch time. The benefits of having eggs outweighs skipping breakfast. I think skipping eggs (cholesterol) does do damage in the long run. One writer even detailed the deficiency as linked to feelings of depression, sadness, and suicide. When I make it for my friend, his mood improves immediately as well. There is gold in the egg. I like to think of it that way.


I think I might be able to read today. It seems I cannot always read, because a great number of chores seem to surface or other insane details invade that time.
I can't wait to read today. I may skip from book to book at first, but getting centered and focused on the activity itself will keep me away from the useless burning out of human energy, that seems so pervasive in the world today. I feel as if I should ask everyone if they are doubling on ritalin or speed these days. Or, they have never thought they can live lives apart from maintainance of any sort?!

Sigh...

I don't like to be insulting, but even at the home site, these people believe they are day labourers or are in a prison camp of sorts. These people must have had some retarding experiences in life in their past. I also think their bodies believe they are elsewhere.

Imagine that, being a workaholic at home?!

My friend had a visitor the other day who felt and acted like a janitor all day. Then he asked me to function like a maid. I confronted him and told him we were visiting at a friend's house. Why was he so chore - oriented? That really frazzled the poor devil. I couldn't believe he was Italian, as he said. Don't they know how to relax when they visit a friend? Also, the fact that he wanted to order my friend and me around was a sign something was wrong with him.

And, when they are choosing recreation, they expend even more energy. Then when they sit, they are working at employment sites. It must be so confusing to their bodies.

The utter thought of this disgusts me!

I think they don't know the boundaries between work and leisure. They also don't know when to work and when not to. Is this something that can be taught to these people? They are so retarded. I wonder how they function in life. When they visit, they are always hungry, and they eat everything in sight. Then that makes more chores for those they visit.

Anyway, true leisure activities do not get their claim to fame.

Today, I applaud them.

Thread: Hazy Areas

Thread: Hazy Areas of Life

Yesterday, a new friend and I were commenting on a few things that we are currently encountering, and she mentioned something that brought up other issues for me. These things have nothing to do with what she said, but they have me thinking this morning.
Conversation is supposed to do that, and I think that for the most part, we take that for granted.

We, either have to be told things, or reminded of them, but no one ever seems to comment on other people's comments or attains a sense of enlightenment from the process of engagement. If anything, plagiarism reigns, and that is approved of by the human species, but really no conversation beyond the texting or other -extings (officially coined here: 8:42 am 6/17/10)exists. It almost feels as if I have finally found a soulmate of sorts, and the ironic thing is that we have never met or exchanged any words before.

This morning, as I deliberate the morning's schedule over coffee, I am thinking about how I donned a t shirt on just as if it is the customary thing to do. It is so easy to find a t shirt and even put one on. I felt how uncomfortable it was to put one on, and I wondered why that was. It seems like a convenience, but I recall there was a time when I could not go out with a t shirt on. I would have to wear something more elaborate or expensive - looking. It would have to be dressy, like a frock, or a
maxi - style outfit. The pants, bloomers with tunics, and even the t shirts and denim came much later for me than other girls. I think I cringed everytime I had to put on pants for school. They felt so different. They made me feel like I was a boy.

Now, these feelings are back for some strange reason. Lately, I had been perusing books from the regency era, but I do not think this is the reason. Yesterday, a violinist was on tv with an orchestra behind him. They were all in extraordinary ball gowns, and I noticed later that it appeared normal to me. I wasn't surprised by how different it was. Even the scenes in "Corazon Salvaje" with the long, swishing gowns seemed more normal than t shirts, jeans, and even shorts. (Shorts are still such a major taboo for me..I still can't put them on in public.)

I wish I could explain these feelings that are now dawning over me in this way. I have been here for years, and I have seen these fashions time and time again, but why am I experiencing an inner revolt toward these fashions? Victoria's Secret actually made me smile by sending me an email of these adorable t shirts with the Cubs logo on them, and so I forwarded them to a sports writer. He thought they were adorable, too. That was a particular fashion, and I miss logo and designated brands, so that did resonate with me.

Even the drinking of the coffee brought out memories of being told not to drink coffee when I was younger. It was common among many people, except my set. We had even been asked not to drink it for so long, and they considered the reading of newspapers too worldly. It was almost as if this sense of isolationism from the rest of the world around us was to stay forever. I still smile when I have a typical male approach me and state that I am Arabic and even African. I wonder if I should have told him that some of us couldn't even drink coffee, even if the Arabic settled near to us. We couldn't look at liquor, even. It is easy for people to explain things away, but when you have had traditions that have existed for long periods of time, things are not that easily explained.

I broke the taboo with coffee in my thirties. I remember being able to taste it once around 18, and it seemed like sweet paradise. My mom didn't always want me to partake of chemicals within drinks. We even have abstained from alcohol for the most part, even after all these years. When I go to a place where alcohol or even other substances are served, my family responds in an awkward manner. I think they know we are in a different land, and everywhere there are things that we would have once considered taboo (& still do), but the fact that I may be exposed to something that may enter my system is still disturbing to them.

I wonder if they think it is the actual substance or the temptation of the substance.
I still have to resolve myself to it. I remember a party that I was invited to as a guest in a couple's house. The women made my acquaintaince and were all dressed in the finest fabrics and silk. They were what you would call Upper Social Class in that land, and they looked aghast at me, knowing I was from the States. They were demure and yet looked strangely as the liquor remained on the table in front of me.
It appeared to me that they had been requested to ask to serve it to me. They looked very uncomfortable and were looking for words to say.

Finally, the senior of the group spoke:

"Our husbands drink, but we do not, but if you do, we don't mind."

I smiled and the awkwardness almost departed, and a conversation ensued after I declared: "I don't drink also."

Then they all relaxed. I said that my family usually does not expect me to drink. It is also, because I am female. They answered the same, and said they cannot drink as females. I almost felt that they had notions that girls in the states drank and were much more advanced in that sort of way.

I did feel comfortable with them, almost as if they were going to accept me into their fold. The people who brought me to the party rushed me, however, because they were afraid I would be uncomfortable at the event, since liquor abounded. I told them not to worry, because in America, there are always parties or restaurants where there is always liquor. I choose not to drink.

Anyway, I felt as if I didn't scandalize anyone, especially, the women. I think they were waiting for me to be an "American" so they could talk about it days later.

Sigh..

So, today, I think about the long ordeal with the coffee, and I never really felt the taboo-ness of it altogether, but now I wonder what it might have been like if they had not allowed me to taste it. Would I still unconsciously abstain every time I passed a cafe or was offered a cup?

Today, as I drink coffee, I think of changes in life, some more monumental than others. I realize that I have a choice of a maxi or a pair of jeans in the event summer visitors from other lands see me. It is not such a choice of rebellion as it is one of comfort. Then I have to stop and ask myself:

Is it more theirs or mine?

I have to wonder.

Making Treats

Thread: Busy Treats!

This morning, I am trying the classic pause to make treats for someone's birthday.

This hasn't happened for quite a long while. I think that being at work all these years has kept me from some of these simple pleasures in life. I'm re - making the original recipes for the treats, and it is a brilliant experiment.

Then again! What in my life isn't an experiment?

People who used to know me used to call me the "mad scientist" when I was
in the kitchen making things.

Most of the time, things come out tasty and cooked.

I also created a marinade for a single piece of chicken. That looks like it will
turn out better than the treats.

More soon, dear chance moments..I hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It feels almost as if it is a miracle.

Staying at home and not going to work...

Is this going to be a trend? We shall see.

I love writing, reading, listening to music, entertaining the cats, entertaining the idea that I can safely pass through the neighborhoods without being assaulted by de- ranged citizens, and countless other pursuits. Right now, I have to run upstairs in this lone mansion and unlock the doors for my friend so we can celebrate with treats and goodies. I hope he does like them. If he doesn't, I will just tell him, it was a domestic experiment.

Sigh...

Spelling

Or Thread: Just look at their spelling grades. At least, you'll know them by their
spelling. Whether it is correct or not is irrelevant. Always assume the worst!

On Saving Lives:

(So, MacGruber, do you think this dude knew how to spell?!)

M: It's okay. I got all the potential errors locked away in secret files.
They're like Jason Bournes. They do it differently every time.
Ok, that makes it way easier to decipher...
This guy is actually dyslexic.

You mean that's why they gave us this marvelous gift?
We don't have to do anything....?! What a life saver!


Twins:

We used to have fun with the following words when we were children.

Would you like dessert?
Would you like to see a desert?

Let's switch the words.

Would you like desert?
Would you like to see a dessert?

Let's spell dessert. desert
Let's spell desert. dessert

Would you like desert with your meal?

No, I only want something cool.


Would you like dessert with your meal?

No, I have heat stroke from having been in the desert.


Ok, class, let's spell desert. des+sert, d+e+s+e+r+t d+e+s+s+e+r+t
Pick one. It really doesn't matter.

Let's spell it backwards, then. lol

Ah, lottery company, you gave my million to some guy with my last name as first and my first name as last. You do know we are not the same person even if we live in the same building?!

Ah, doctor/nurse, did you mean to chop off the leg of that patient and not me?
You switched the names again, didn't you?

Or, did you spell the name wrong?
Ok, suggestion: should we use numbers instead of names?
As long, as you don't have dyslexia...

It's just a technical error. We don't really have to spell.
She's just blowing everything out of proportion.

What do you mean? Is she a s.b.?!

An s.b. what's that? (Are you swearing?)

I'm referring to the technical term, "b-----"
Are you Black? Spanish?
Oh, you Racist!
What I mean is, why don't you understand English?
Are you black? Are you Spanish?
A new immigrant?

Can't you tell between a regular American and a "s.b.?"

No...I don't know what you mean.

Whisper in their ear...you know...what they do when they..(blank!)

Uhm...MacGruber, no!!!!!!!!!!!! (if you're right..hope you're not!)
This is all so confusing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Don't tell me, you put the camera in # 304 instead of # 403!

Oh, oh, you're watching the wrong person, again! Mr papa-razzis!!!

Someone you know is dyslexic, maybe?

Unless they are playing jabberwocky with the English language again..?

Listen, children, let's start at the very beginning...

Dessert
desert
dessert
desert

desert
dessert
desert
dessert

It pays to learn at the near beginning. Then you don't have to
go back in time to do it all over again...

You mean...

Using Spell Check...?! I was only trying to..
I know.

Well, you can try learning it on your own and then let spell check be
a secondary feature, a safety measure, or something..don't be scared to make
mistakes. That's how you learn.

I have to start at the very beginning.

Good.

G o o d

Good.


Next Time:

Let's try this with very similar Spanish words! :)

Regular Spanish or slang

Sigh..it doesn't matter.

Let's just start at the beginning.

Again?!

Again.

Again I say again.


Sometimes, the internet does help us to pay attention to spelling.
I don't mean by using spell check features.

Here is one page:

http://www.spelldoctor.com/public/whyspellingmatters.php

Thread: Chance Readers By Any Chance..?

Thread: Chance Readers (if by any chance)

Since I am not all these people or the circumstances I write about, I suppose I have the luxury of being a bystander and reporter at large. If perchance you found not a single entry to read the other day, the day before yesterday, it was because there was a technical reason at this site. I had wanted to write that morning.

Most mornings are fraught with inconsequential details, but I still like to dwell on them for certain reasons. This is why this blog exists..to discuss those details.

Traditionally, I like to have a kind of a start to the morning. Even the hustle and the bustle and the hither and dither of everything colliding seems to suffice at times. The coffee percolating, the dishes needing to be rearranged, the frantic footsteps of everyone trying to leave the house all at once when late, and other little things, that if they didn't exist, things would seem bland.

I like having my coffee at hand to ruminate on all these chance moments and more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got the traditional "where?" that high - pitched squeamish voice and that gulp accompanied by it on Monday. I failed to mention that on the last entry.

I have wondered why these people need to know where. Haven't they met people in professions that take them to a multitude of dwellings and institutions? If they are all confined to a cubicle and even behind a counter 24/7, I can understand. Even when I worked in classrooms, we had the facility of moving to and fro. We didn't have to remain behind a desk or in a single room. In fact, the descriptions usually involve going to different rooms, up and down flights of stairs during the day, and even during the lunch hour. Sometimes, it necessitated meeting with other people. You never had to stay in a building in a stagnant or vegetative way at all. Then there was always a teeming storm at all times right in front of you, brain activity of all sorts, inside and outside the rooms at all times.

After high school was out, I remember working all through snack period, walking back and forth, not eating until after 5pm. Most of my friends were home by 3pm, watching tv, going shopping and the like. I worked all through high school this way. I never had to explain the where of anything. I perfected the art of delayed gratification every day during my teens.

Now, I am reaping some of the benefits. I can actually relax and not work like I did for all my childhood. Democrats tend to resent this for some reason. They call it walking around or something.

Today, if you are not in a particular building, they assume you are lying about your chosen profession. I suppose society conditions people to think in this way.

I even tutor on occasion. I still get the where. Perhaps, it is just the "easy come, easy go" mentality that people hold in this state. They don't equate a person to a person, but an occupation or money to a person's identity. I consider a profession a type of calling, and if they are only in it for money, there is something cheap about that. My job is actually to place them in society in all sorts of professions and to make all types of income. My job doesn't require the backbiting and the sabotage involved that seems to make the world turn these days.

(And they still try to sabotage you. Go figure the state of the economy..)

Of course, I answer "everywhere" like I usually do. Usually, I have to do that anyway. Life is a grouping of lessons that take place all over the place. You learn from others, and others teach you at all times. It is a stimulating world, if one looks at it right.

Too bad, there's a bunch of chore - mongers all over the place, scheming to figure out where you are at all times, just so they can take it all away. I especially consider it cheap that they even try to steal my students from me. Like they view students as money instead of real live human beings with learning needs. How cheap can these illegals be? I can see why they are never really Americans.

In my line of work, you are always working, even when you are not in any one building.

(No, people, you don't need to check to see if I have papers..)

Democrats!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Living Life

I accomplished a great deal setting up and then taking down furniture for summer cleaning yesterday. I'm still not done. I think I have to re - do certain things at my friend's and also my place. Summer is a time for all this rearranging. I wonder which illegal - minded groups are going to notice my presence doing all my summer work and call me lazy next? They even look in your windows to see if you are sleeping. Maybe there should be an unwritten rule in the INS contracts?

No work-horses or chore hounds, just good solid professionals with a sense of balance in life? Work is not your identity, after all. It's something that you do. I can tell they have a lot of time on their hands, watching me. I find that a lot of illegal immigrants today are actually actual residents acting this way. Can we send them off to a cruise just to get a break this summer? Any millionaires out there willing to ship them off to Alcatraz?

I can't wait to write about them.

Thread: Waiting to Write and Read

Thread: Waiting to Write and Read

It was interesting that once again, although I'm sure it was purely coincidental, I was interrupted by a doorbell, but something more..blogger was down for some time.
This has happened before, and usually right after I have told someone about the blog.

I wonder why the coincidence should even matter to me.

For some reason, I am always interrupted at around 9am to 10am, and I am unable to write. Is there some bus driver version of me who doesn't get home until 5pm or after? lol..

Ok, so what's the point talking about the morning now that it is only 5:30pm.
It's not like I was at the dentist or anything. Just plain and simple coffee, interacting with the cats, boring routine, but exciting to me, nonetheless.
I almost thought I could write multiple entries on other blogs and then repost here and say something about that. I didn't, however, and so I will have to check in with you at another point.

I did manage to do some urgent errands. I consider them urgent, even if no one else does.

I went to get my mail, and someone opened the door for me right after they saw me take the keys out. Why do they do that? They open it right then. I also wanted to wait it out and not have interaction with him as he was on his cell. I hate having to say something to the person, because the receiver carries the voice to the listener. The listener most likely is female. Then I always hear the noisy question:
"Who was that?!" Like they assume by hearing your voice, their person is with you.
I had even waited minutes for him to leave the lobby, but he loitered talking incessantly for minutes. My whole purpose in waiting there was to ascertain that I could manuever my key into the lock. He interfered with me finding out.

Why is that when you are waiting for hours or locked out, or if you can't find your keys, there is absolutely no one around?! But when you have the key, everyone is ready to open the door for me. Then he was looking at my hand and keys and fingers for some reason. Why should he be so focused on me when he is on that phone call.
Then I had to fumble around at the mail box to see if he would leave the lobby so I wouldn't have to get in the elevator with him. For some reason, I feel that they want me to hear the phone conversation. Mostly, I don't. It is so utterly noisy for my comfort. I notice that with this person... it seems to be a pattern. He never talks to me, but he has to be within my vicinity on a phone and has to look at me. Strange, but I don't even know him except for having seen him for about 5 times in the building. I believe he is married. People sure exhibit funny behavior at times.
This is when I am not even looking to speak to or engage in any conversation.

Then the classic phrase echoed in his words, the rest being in a foreign (African?) language that I didn't recognize or even know, for that matter:

"...she doesn't need anything..." I have seen many people articulate this same phrase around me when I am up and about. It is probably not about me, but I hear the phrase so often, I wonder if all the random catch-phrases are always the same around me.

Other than that, nothing ordinary, commonplace, or boring happened to me today.

Sigh..

June Notes

Thread: June Notes

As I was going to start typing my blog this morning, I got a phone call.
Then there was a doorbell pause..and what isn't different about today?

I think that chance moments involve pausing for phone calls and doorbell stops.
Then the old addage of the phone ringing when you are in the bathtub holds true also.
I still remember the image of an ad where a woman is aggravated as a phone next to her starts to ring, just when she is about to enjoy a bubble bath..

Some things are so predictable. Who needs a psychic?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today, I read something that reminded me of a poem. The words were different, but it was the same skeletal outline of something else I had seen. So what I saw today had changed the details and content, but it was the stolen encasing of something I had seen on the internet years ago. I think that if it is not resonance or a repeating train of thought, or even just pure coincidence, exact words are coming back to haunt me but on some other pages. I wonder what this is called. Haunting by passages?
Or is that my babies are visiting me again?

Right now, I heard the virtual opening of the theme song from "The Edge of Night" in the few seconds of a commercial. I heard the same opening in a soap from Brazil as I was flipping channels. When it is auditory/visual or when it is only visual print, why I am recognizing these parallels?

I refrain from calling it a kind of plagiarism, because this does exist in art. In fashion also, when designers are inspired by other designeres, or song writers write someone's else's song and say it is theirs. When is it time to draw the line? When is it time not to ? It is strange to note these items on a day when I am being interrupted by all things.

Today, I have food again that is spilling over from the foods I have already eaten.
On a day when I haven't shopped yet, there is nothing. Why is it a feast or famine motif, when I don't believe in that? I am rather trivial about things like that, being prepared and organized. Then we are in overabundance again.

Why complain?

The cats are able to sleep today and (yesterday) inspite of visitors.
The visits are timed, too, instead of random or visits of interest.
That, too, is eerie.