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Monday, August 29, 2005  
It happened.

I'm very tired and thrilled.

I am normal again, but totaly changed.

Came home to dog, cats, frogs, and peacock all doing well. Only one dog seems upset about it all. The barking gave me a headache I can't quite kick.

Other than that, we are fine.

Smooches to all who sent good thoughts,


7:50 AM

Friday, August 26, 2005  
The big thing?

Is happening today. Right now.

I'll be back around Monday if I can hack it.


8:37 AM

Wednesday, August 24, 2005  
Update on current condition of condition: feeling impossibly ripe and maybe tomorrow will be the Big Event.

It's a good thing, too. Our A/C bill for the last 30 days was $758 mainly due to me and my need for cold air blowing on me or I can't sleep. I literally cannot go to sleep and will toss and turn and kick people and cats in the head and feel bad and go downstairs and read until I give in at 4 AM and turn down the A/C and feel the guilt that is Electrical Usage Overload.

But there is good news on my horizon. The insurance wants to settle for a tidy sum that is actually close to what my car's worth was, if not it's value. So, I can at least relax a little on that front. I'm still not buying anything anytime soon. But I did talk to a very satisfied Element owner today who said not only does she LOVE her car, she TALKS to it. So there you go. That's how I was about my Civic. I don't know if I can replace that beautiful feeling that I had, the rapport I had, with my wondrous little automobile, but apparently Honda has a knack for making car lovers out of the indifferents among us, myself being one, and the Element might fit my needs entirely. She did confirm it hoses out, but that you have to park it on an angle to let the water run back out. Apparently the drain I've heard tell of is an Urban Myth that I made up in my own head somehow.

I'm tired and full of tomato sauce and ready for something spectacular to happen to me soon. So I hope this bloody thing happens soon, because it's hot again.

In other news, Central Europe is a horrifying flood zone and I have yet to see it on our regularly broadcast world news here in the US.

But everyone is talking about Pat Robertson, who now apparently says he was misinterpreted. 700 times over. What an awful person. Mr. Chavez, I'm watching you. You are a very interesting and inspired character. I keep calling you Trotsky Che and everyone knows who I mean...and FYI: Pat Robertson is a dumbass who prayed for some of our lefty old Supreme Court Justices to die off as well, so you're not alone in his barrel of christian death and hate.

~Amelie, Hot and Plump and Ready, much like a roasted chicken at a Hof Brau.

8:56 PM

Monday, August 22, 2005  
Not that I'm a huge sex toy shopper, but I have to say, I like to peruse different legit sex shoppes even for just the names of these "sexual enhancers". Amazon has gone deep, penetrated the market fully, committed completely to the lubricious cause. I just received word from my friend Heather that Amazon is in the biz, and I just checked it out. The article is 100% correct. I wish I'd seen it when it came out of the closet.

Amazon has an extremely extensive, and rather aggressive -without being too obvious- selection of various shock and awe toys, peppered with specialty condoms and other fun lubricatory stuff, online. I hope it stays that way. Sex toys should be accessible to the masses, and the less you know about them the better. Although I think I secretly like the sleaziness of creepy pron stores in LA better than anything online, and I'll only admit that once. Speaking of pron stores, I will now also admit that my venture into the Good Vibrations in Berkeley during last year's soap making supplies shopping for Xmas spree on San Pablo was a little bit more than just disappointing. I definitely want my dirt dirty, I guess. I was turned off by a balding, pierced, black clothed, sexually ambiguous, white man explaining to me deftly and without affect the fascination with The Rabbit. Which is basically a multi-tasking toy. He was, if possible, even less sleazy than Mrs. O'Brien, our Christian Womanhood teacher at Catholic School who told us about her husband's first virginal erection and how she thought it was the crinoline in her skirt poking her in the thigh and how she kept brushing it with her hand on her first date/first kiss. Nice. Anyway. I think I bought sugar-free banana flavored motion lotion which PF eventually just laughed at which made me throw it away long ago, and left more embarrassed from the Good Vibes store than if I'd just seen a graphic INYERFACE video on How To Get Off with Ben Wa and Butt Beads Simultaneously. Sigh.

anyway, Amazon rocks just for having loads of stuff on sale.. I thought I'd write it down now just in case they have to stop selling it at some point.

~Amelie, No Comment

11:52 PM

Is it hotter today, or am I just fatter?

I'm more tired than normal. So maybe I'm just fatter. Sigh.

Had a discussion with my dad earlier this morning about harvesting organs from death row inmates. He's willing to do it for cheap. Remove organs, that is. See, I'm all about "no death penalty", but I'd be willing to freeze people for their lifetime, allowing anyone who wants to pursue any and all possible reprieves to do so, while the prisoner spent time unaging. In the likely situation that people won't be frozen, is it unethical to harvest their organs, as unwilling or willing donors? I mean, why not? It's an interesting point. Bearing in mind that death rowers are kept separate from the rest of the prison population and considering the fact that they may have a LOT of stuff wrong with their blood/organs depending on what they did before or during their current stay, the idea that we could give someone like my dad a kidney to save his life were he to get another nasty giant cancer in the current one (a distinct possibility considering my great grandpa died of bilateral kidney cancer and it apparently runs in our family), is a strong incentive for someone like me. I'm all about recycling. And totally against black market organs.

I'm a registered donor on about 4 different sites and have stickers galore and have it written into my living will (that has not been notarized or viewed by a lawyer, but it's still pretty clear). I want my good, clean organs donated to people who could live longer if I die healthy. Why not? What are you going to do with them when you're a ghost? And I better turn into a ghost. Although my dad's idea of "heaven" sounds beatific; his includes a hammock, perpetually filled scotch glass, and his new Martin guitar. Mine would have a lot of dogs and puppies and babies and artwork and growing vegetables surrounding me always. But I'd be perfectly happy to come back and haunt people and putter around in my afterlife. Or travel by floating over the world, visiting places I've never been. I don't think you need both kidneys for that sort of work detail.

Anyway. Would it be unethical to offer death row inmates the option to donate healthy organs and thereby avoiding cyanide gas or lethal injection in the State of CA, but rather, not waking up from the pleasant stupor of anesthesia? Obviously, certain infections would not be candidates, but I feel like you'd get some sort of credit for going out with a good intention. My mom thinks it's a bad idea and that people would feel "tainted" by criminal activity floating in their ichor. But I disagree. I think if you've been on dialysis long enough, you'd be thoroughly grateful for anyone who was a match. Non??

Of course I'm right.

and here is a recipe for biodiesel. It's the same one that Anton uses to make his 500 gallons for the year. Making your own is so brilliant. The only goop leftover is glycerine, and you can dump that out on your lawn or use it in hippy soapmaking. I just sent PF an email saying I'd support him getting a vehicle he'd probably love, if he learned how to make biodiesel; so I'm making it easy for him to buy a vintage landrover that is lovably useless unless you could fuel it up for a reasonable amount and hoard your fuel for the upcoming apocalypse...

~Amelie Is All About Recycling

4:33 PM

Sunday, August 21, 2005  
Someone Googling for personal blogs starting with A found this one.

And I have to say, while I've seen it before, the google description of my blog, while perfectly astute, is horribly boring.

Amelie Est Bonne - http://www.amelielabonne.blogspot.com/
Detailing the daily life and experiences of a young woman in California.

Yuck. YUCK!

DETAILING???!!! Okay. I detail. But that sounds a bit, oh, I dunno, OCD??

I'm not very young anymore, either. I will be 34 years old in about oh, 12 whole days. Which is not a bad thing. As long as I get to eat cake. As much as I want. Lemon and vanilla. With extra lemony frosting. And maybe yellow cake with dark fudge frosting. Or hello, cupcakes! Cupcakes would be good. And Sushi! I'm actually interested in eating Sushi for a bday dinner again, even though that's been the Dinner since I turned 30. I've avoided rice for months. It's time for some crab and tuna and deep fried asparagus. I miss Taka's downtown. And Nishiki. I live right near the Hazel Mikuni restaurant, and I haven't gone once this year. You know why? Because it sucks and it's too expensive. And because I can't eat rice.

PF got irritated at me because my taste of his Wendy's Frosty turned into me eating half of it. I was so redfaced when I handed it back to him. He was very upset. I have a serious sugar depletion problem and I am really getting tired of not being allowed to eat any. It's very hard. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be diabetic all the time. How do they stand it? I mean, I'm sure loads of them cheat like mad, but what about the ones who stick to the strict diet and testing regimen? Ugh. You poor, poor, poor sweetless darling things. My pity is multifold. I've done it for about 4 months and am ready to kill something, I cannot do this for life.

I'm feeling better about my car. I just got an email that said the new Elements are coming out in October and they have more horsepower than the current models; what that means for me is that I could probably pick up a one-or-two year model, 2 WD, manual, for about 4 grand less than I'd pay for a new one because people who need the power will switch out. I am having dreams about an orange element that you can hose cheerios and dog hair out of. That's my new dream car. Anything that you can hose out and gets decent mileage (well, 21city/26hwy, which is crap compared to my stolen Civic). What more can you ask for in a vehicle besides the mileage could be better? Oh. yeah. That it not get stolen by miserable asswipes who deserve to be cryogenically frozen the rest of their miserable asswipe lives. Of course! How'd I forget that magic request?

Still nothing exciting happening internally. Although it promises every day to happen, it just doesn't.

Ah well. It's not like I'm working or have to drive anywhere important these days.

I think I will take some pictures of my cats now that I loaded the digital driver into this computer...
Shabazz in the foreground. And he's the sweetest thing ever. That's Wingnut getting some yum in the back...Churchill(babykiki), however, is the prettiest. I have the biggest cats. It's widely acknowledged. Not one of them is under 16 lbs. You know it when they walk across your boobs when you're sound asleep.

He's a big Blue Russian chub of a kitty, but he's just gorgeous.

~Amelie, Googled and Boring as Ever

7:32 PM

Saturday, August 20, 2005  
well, I've been sick all day and slightly flatter than normal due to certain things adjusting internally. Waiting is killing me and nothing exciting is happening. Unless you count nausea and swollen ankles that have to be elevated for long periods of my day, making me miss out on other exciting things, like making cheese sandwiches before someone uses up all the bread.

Saw The Skeleton Key last night. I thought it was pretty good. It's PG13 which doesn't bode well for "scare factor", although The Grudge was PG13 and most people thought it was really scary. I wouldn't spoil it for the world, it's a nice treat at the end. I watched Roger Ebert get confused by it last Sunday, and honestly, it's not that hard to understand once the jig is up. But it's a nice film and great acting. Gena Rowland sucking on her cheroots made me happy for some weird reason I can't explain, and Kate Hudson running around in underwear in the middle of the night in a spooky old southern house made me happy as well. I settled into it all. Also the fact that I managed to pee twice before and once after instead of having to crawl over people like usual made it more enjoyable than most movies I see these days. Last weekend we saw March Of The Penguins, and I was so irritated because 1) we got there 7 minutes late even though it was listed as starting 10 minutes later than it did 2) I had to pee throughout and had to leave twice and 3) it was too good to leave for peeing and I seriously contemplate buying Depends just for going to movies these days. March of the Penguins is an amazing feat of cinema for loads of reasons, the least being that hello, a film crew lived in Antarctica for 13 months documenting these wacky little weeble-wobble birds. And I did have to cry a little when the eggs dropped during transfer and froze on the spot, cracking apart slowly into big ovoid ice cubes of pure sadness. It's not for the faint hearted, but it's not gory either. If you can handle Animal Cops Houston, you can handled March of the Penguins. It's pretty glorious.

I'm still upset about my car. It was like losing a beloved pet. I can't explain exactly how horrified I really was when I saw it in person. I nearly broke down or fainted or something ultra feminine and dramatic. I basically just doubled over crying and then patted it on the roof and said "I'm really sorry" over and over again. I wasn't going to go out to the tow yard, but then I found out it was nearby and I wouldn't have to drive to San Jose to see it, which is where my insurance had it towed the next day.

Ugh. I couldn't bear to look inside of it. It was so empty and devoid of anything normal. They took the gear shift and all the seats and the doors and the side panels and even the back part. It was basically a hollowed out shell full of garbage. I wish they'd set it on fire like the viking boats of yore, because that would have been more dignified than what the car thieves did to it. Ally thought maybe her pal could fix it back up for me, but honestly? All I'd think about, were it actually driveable after some work, was how violating it is to have something like this stolen. I basically lived a large part of 4 years inside this car, and I took really good care of it. And let's face it. I don't want to drive a mock up of my original lovely car.

My new question is, what the hell do I do now? Of course I need a new car. But wtf? I'm scared to get another car that I would actually want to drive around in. I don't think I could bear another stolen car, or a break in, or a rape or anything else bad that happens to people who don't deserve bad things happening to them. I think I'm just going to cash the insurance check, pay down more of my debt that's been lagging since I got layed off, and call it a day. Dave keeps emailing me about how it's like donating your kidney to someone, except instead of donating it, they actually just kill you for it and sell it on the black market. One the one hand, he's absolutely right. On the other hand, it makes me sicker. I'm already sick to my stomach from stress. I shouldn't read my emails anymore.

~Amelie, Downtrodden and Wimpy

4:44 PM

Wednesday, August 17, 2005  
This has been a harrowing day.

At 6:15 PM the cops called, letting me know I'm one of the 60% recovered, and warning me that yup, they stripped my car to the bones. They took everything: hood, trunk, doors, seats, you name it, it's gone. All that's left basically is a VIN. Nice. I can't describe the feeling I felt when they called. It started with elation "dude, they found my car, I am so blessed, God loves me" to "I knew that fucker had it in for me since the day I was born...It's not enough to let me catch on fire, fall from ski lifts or have an iron chucked at my head by a wobbily closet shelf...NO. He has to let my beautiful precious CAR get jacked completely up..." And then I ended up blaming my brother again. God's horrible Job-like plan for me to my brother's fault in about 3 seconds. So, they found my car. Yippeefuckingdoodaday. It's fucked up probably beyond repair. And I'll never be able to sell it for a decent price now. Ugh. double ugh.

Combine that with the news from EDD that they "never received my last UI info, therefore haven't issued a check since the 23rd" and you basically have my day in a nutshell. I was THRILLED the state did not hang up on me for the 4th day in a row, only to be told by an irritated stateworker that I am not even supposed to be calling her yet because I claim my forms were sent out on 8/8, not the requisite 10 days, and she can't speed it up at all because I don't have an eviction notice. You know, it's not like we actually PAY into our unemployment insurance or anything...so maybe we deserve to be treated like assholes? I guess so. I hope she gets layed off soon so she can talk to jerkasses just like herself.

So, rough day.

No more news on the condition ending anytime soon. Docs said could be any day, any hour, any minute, but I'm just feeing cranky. I did find a nice Peridot site, they are not as ugly as I used to think they were.

~Amelie IS your worst nightmare

6:40 PM

About an hour and a half ago I just broke down and wept about my car. It's the first time I've actually cried about it. But man, did I love that car. PF and I were filling out the paperwork for the insurance company and I was totally baffled by some of his questions.

If the steering wheel has "ABS" on it, you have anti-lock brakes, right?

I never had to change a tire, so I don't know if the hubcaps are special. I don't think they were.

I bought the car with added stuff, like a 6 CD changer. Aftermarket. But I don't know where this stuff was purchased or how much it is worth. How do I report it?
What about all the CDs that were in my changer? How do I get reimbursed for that? I should have kept my renters insurance...

I just freaked out. PF was so irritated that I don't know basic stuff about my car (I did know it had dual airbags, thank goodness) that I felt bewildered and dumb. Why doesn't my insurance agency know all this stuff already? After all, they've examined it twice since I bought it 4 years ago. Why do I have to know how much I paid for it? I don't remember. I only remember what I financed and that was all paid off last year. So, am I worse off because it's not financed now, or better off?? Ugh. I didn't keep all the stuff I could possibly need outside of the glove compartment except for the title. At least I have brains enough to store that separately.

I'm so upset right now.

I went on kelly blue book site and looked up all the different Civic HX prices for 1998 with my mileage, and am getting between 5700 and 8700 for values, but my dad said "oh, the insurance won't PAY that much..." WTF?! Why do I carry comprehensive insurance, then? Why do I do anything, if there is no guarantee that you can get your stuff replaced, or at least the highest assessed value you could get if it was sold privately? I am sick to my stomach. And has anyone tried this site? I loved my car so much. It was precious and perfect and got 40 MPG on the highway and I could squinch about 37 on the streets if I was careful...that makes it worth its weight in black gold in this day and age...

I literally cannot afford a car in the same range in my zip code. My car was beautiful. I'd just had all the dings fixed and new tires put on at Costco and registered it and oiled it up and the only thing I was thinking about doing was to charge the a/c because it's been a few years since I bought it.

I'm just completely to my stomach with all of this crud and can't sleep at all. Not to mention my condition is threatening to end in one foul swoop within this week's time. Which is good, except, hello, I have no car. How will I get to doctor appointments? Or the hospital in a pinch? Ugh. I guess I am going to be one of those horrible people who use an ambulance for transportation.


Fucking brill.

(edited to remove one of the stupidest things I have ever said or done in the middle of the night.) They are bad, bad people who have nearly ruined my entire life with one stolen and much missed car. It's not like I don't have problems and need both money and transportation. And now I'm worried I'll get stuck with more than I ever thought possible cost wise.

Suckity suck.

~Amelie is full of woe

1:53 AM

Monday, August 15, 2005  
Great tee shirt found by darlin' Rumblelizard grrl...

I spent a few hours last night panicking about my dog and looking for a rectal thermometer to take Seamas's temperature. I actually told my mom to do something unmentionably rude because she suggested I wait till the morning if I couldn't find one in our gimoungous house full of everything-except-rectal-temperature-taking-equipment. I get aggro about my pets when I think they are sick. This is how bad I get when I freak about my poor pets: not only can I not sleep when I discover a problem at 4 AM and rifle through every drawer in every bathroom of this house before running next door to borrow one, but I will scream horrible things at my sleepwalking mom. Seamas was fine. But his nose was hot and he has been listless. Turns out, he perks up just fine around bbq tri tip, and even stole some of the meat off the patio table tonight. He's back to his miserable, listless, hot self again now. Oh, and I did finally find a rectal thermometer. He didn't like it one bit, no sir. And come to think of it, neither did I. FYI: dog temps should be between 100-102 degrees Fahrenheit, and you need to get them to the vet if it's below 99 or at 104 or above. Seamas was a steady 101. That's a 2 minutes in the pooper wait for nothing. Poor dog.

Today was a good day. It wasn't hot, it was pleasant, and the only fight I got into was with my mom for about 2 minutes where she freaked out because I threw away her mushy olives. Note to self: when in doubt, check with mom before chucking ugly foodstuffs. The only way I turned her off was reminding her that she was ruining her fabulous relationship with me over 4 tablespoons of mushy olive crud that smelled like bad salsa and looked even worse.

Still, it is her house. I cannot believe that in a few more months, PF and I will be living together full time in our own place. This is my dream. But it's more real than right now. Although I definitely like the Pergo upstairs in my suite...sounds rich, don't it? I get the library and a bathroom and my old bedroom and the roof patio. It's nice if you try to forget how messy the downstairs is...but you know what? It's home and I'm loved.

I should stop crabbing about things like that and enjoy my life more. Like an old cruddy cigarette ad.

~Amelie Enjoys Life More

10:49 PM

Sunday, August 14, 2005  
So, I have this thing about worms. I'm not a fan. I'm seriously not.

I took a parasitology class in college, for fun I said to those who were weirded out by my creepiness, but secretly it was because I'm creeped out by stuff like giardia and malaria and nematodes of all shapes and sizes. I think I've said that before. Why, yes. I did. I had a weird relationship with mucoid plaque removal for awhile. I won't tell you what came out of me, because I didn't strain it like all the websites say you should, but it wasn't pretty.

And while I can handle your average earthworm in dirt, and most squiggly things like waxworm maggots and even the biting Super Mealworms don't bug me too much (I pluck them out and feed them to my frogs. Yum yum.) I have to say, there are some things that just give me the willies.

Take the Guinea Worm, for instance. I learned about this worm years ago, probably age 15 or so, and vowed never to join the Peace Corps until it was eradicated. Basically (this is seriously paraphrased but relatively accurate), if you enter water in certain infested areas of Africa, the larvae get under your skin and travel in your bloodstream, eventually growing and mating and finding a nice bone or tendon to wravel itself around, forcing its pooper out into the open and excreting yucky stuff. The females drop eggs when you go near water, thusly increasing the chance of further infections. The olden ways of getting the worm out was to wait until it stuck its bottom through your skin, and then wrapping it around (very slowly, days and days slow)a twig that is kept taut without breaking the worm. You did this daily to avoid stretching the worm too fast so it doesn't break off in your body, die, and rot causing horrific infections. Yummy yet? So, for the love of God, I took a class to learn more about my secret macabre fascination with the Guinea Worm. During that time, they mentioned botflies, which I somehow mistook for Bottleflies. They are not.

I was first introduced to the warble and the botfly when we thought Erica's miniature steer Turbo was infested. Turned out he had warts, warts are apparently even more common than botflies on cattle. But I can't tell you how creepily fascinated we were with his emerging lumpinesses. The terms for warble making flies that are most common are gadflies, botflies and creepy muthas.

Little did I know. Squirrels and rats and lagomorphs can actually get infested with something quite similar. Here I thought the yuckiest thing rabbits did was eat their night poop. In fact, these flies are basically the same, just have different selection choices.

The question for you is, how sick do you want to make yourself? via mimismartypants. In this article, it mentions MAN as a possibility for infection. How yum is that??

Botflies may now have surpassed Guinea Worms in my Dreaded Parasites Files in my mind. This is of course because they live here.

~Amelie Never Joined The Peace Corps (because they don't let you take your dog with you.)

9:04 PM

Today was a wonderful day.

First of all, it was breezy, overcast and balmy all day. It was the most comfortable day since early June. That's serious weather I'm talking about. Weather, particularly balmy, deserves recognition in my world. I swear it never went over 87 degrees fahrenheit. I went to a Little Ninja birthday party for Ms. Roanie, and saw lovely people I just love talking to, and tickled the cutest little kids and played with Link again (that's a great dog). The only thing I miss about bbq parties that I really can't have at all? The beer. Or "road soda" as it's referred to in some Hee-LARIOUS circles. I could smell it. I miss it A. LOT. It makes me ashamed, like if I were an alcoholic, although I know there's nothing shameful about admitting and something very sad about that particular disease. Okay. Alcoholism: not a joke. But lordy. I miss beers. I know I ain't in meetings, but I likes my beerses. Of course, I can only handle 2 or 3 in a night, and that's pushing vomit, so I have not much to fear but fear itself. Still. When you can't have something for a long while, it's bound to make you miserable and covetous.

My current condition relegates me to the beerless. Or beer-free. I miss hard alcohol too, since I'm a bit sloshy when it comes to good bourbon. It also relegates me to the sugarless and low carbo, although I managed to down a few swedish fish and some chips and even the cutest bday cake I've seen in a long while. Still, I shouldn't have done all that eating of the carbos. I have a little longer before I can indulge. Just yesterday I was watching a Wendy's commercial and thinking "that's a lot of bread." So, I may be scarred for life. Last week I was whispering crazily to the Entemann's pastry in the bread aisle (specifically staring at the blueberry danishes) that "in 3 more weeks, you bitches are mine." I think I scared an old Blue Hair away from the bread section at Raley's. That's okay. I'm way okay with crazy people, so it's totally reasonable that I should act like one once in awhile.

The other reason why today is so great: the PF is here. How much do I just adore this man? It's kind of debilitating sometimes. He sent me down to read a blog he thought was funny/odd. He reads 'em, I writes 'em. So, here I am, blogging about how much I adore him, of course.

I spent the rest of my evening writing thank yous to practically everyone I know. I can't believe how many people showed up last weekend to visit with us. The weekend before I saw friends and family in LA. I'm still catching up on happy thoughts and lovely gifts and remembering all the smiles and good hopes for us. Good people, good friends.

We are very excited. 2 more weeks.

If I had a car still, life just might be perfecto.

~Amelie The Rounder

1:18 AM

Friday, August 12, 2005  
I'm super physically and mentally tired, but I have this queerly improbably active drive and initiative today. I'm in a nesting mode. I'm doing laundry all day and cleaning cobwebs and dishes and whatnot.

Found out my car is NOT one of the top 25 stolen, but that Honda Civics are stolen for parts all the time all the way back to the 92 models. That sucks. The cops told my brother it's because they are easy to steal. That sucks too, and, it pisses me off, because when I bought it I was told "these are hard to steal." Obviously not. Ugh. I was fished in. But you know what? I really WANTED the Honda HX. After driving a gas guzzling broken down Volvo 740 GLE for 7 years, I really wanted something that wouldn't cost me an arm and a leg to gas up or fix. And you know what? The Honda HX is still the BEST car I have ever owned.

My insurance said they wait about 2 weeks before closing my claim. With the 60% recovery rate here in Sactown, there is still a chance that I will have a drivable car after all is said and done. I sincerely doubt it though. I have to jump through hoops to prove it's value even though I just spent tons of dough getting all the little dings out (a tree fell on it last year and managed to hit every little dent again, making it suddenly possible for me to afford to actually remove said little dings.) I love, love, love that car. I can't even begin to explain how much I love that car. I always said "dream car? I already drive it."


Whoever took it, I hope you are getting fucked by these gas prices. I hope my car rebels and flips over on you. I hope you get stuck in some freak accident and impaled on a faulty air bag. You jerkass.

I decided we should cryogenically freeze car thieves for their natural lifespan, and then defrost them fast and feed them to pigs at the end of it. That oughtta quash this behavior.

~Amelie, Civic Duty Grrl

12:34 PM

Tuesday, August 09, 2005  
Today is the day my brother called me to tell me my car was stolen from his back parking lot. Because I let him borrow it. Because I'm not driving this month and he doesn't have a reliable car to go to LA two weekends in a row. Because my car gets good gas mileage. Because I loved him and wanted him to be safe.

But does he care?? Nope. He parked it in the back of his apartment complex and caught a ride to San Diego and called me last night when he got back to let me know he "didn't drive the car and therefore saved gas mileage". Except that he ALSO neglected to check to see if it was still in his skanky midtown parking lot off the alley. Which it apparently wasn't. But we're not sure, because HE HASN'T SEEN IT SINCE FRIDAY.

I'm so mad, I'm shooting acid out of my nose and I want to tear his head off and drain his blood into a cesspool. I know my murderous instincts will pass, but I'm sooo angry, I've never had this happen to me. Nobody I know has had a car stolen.

What else do I do besides the basics? I called my insurance, his insurance and demanded he call the cops asap. I also checked the nat'l database for impounds, and it ain't there. Luckily, I have comprehensive insurance. But that means nothing when you love your car. And I LOVE MY CAR.

I just want to cry.

~Amelie the violated.

5:19 PM

Today is the day that Nagasaki was bombed 60 years ago. It's still sad that that happened. No matter what other atrocities were committed during WWII, and there were aplenty, the development of the age of nuclear weapons and their precursors signify the destruction of us all. Two tester cities, a show of strength that surpassed all others first, and boom. Just like that, we have become demented and soaked with our own importance and determined not to let anyone else have such powers... See, nuclear weapons are worse than anything else because of how they completely obliterate everything. There is a reason why they refer to the German Holocaust as a destruction of the Jewish nation, because it obliterated generations upon generations, entire family bloodlines completely exterminated. And there is a reason why post nuclear holocaust gave Oppenheimer a serious chill down his spine, because it is extermination on an even huger, less personal scale. Reality? Doomsday is only a few buttons away.

I'm okay with this. On some level I know if it happens, I most likely won't feel it because I live close enough to the Capitol of CA (I know, sick.) I know that we know that the world knows nukes are naughty. But I also know there are crazy people with fingers on buttons. So it's scary, but I think if it happened (and we are not in a cold war anymore I don't think (unless you count Kim Jong Il's weird little pissed off country), I certainly wouldn't matter if I was gone. I certainly would be done fer with the rest of my family. I'd like to avoid this, but the fact is, if it happened, I wouldn't notice.

Sometimes you just have to think about these things and they are not so abstract. War may be a form of scary population control (I actually prefer Depo Provera, thanks), but it's also evil. War is evil. It's one of the things, besides child molesters, that I feel should never be unleashed upon society. And yet, I see the point of war (but still don't understand child molesters.)

I have, on various occasions, pointed out, hypothetically of course, that if the Chinese and the Indian people ganged up on us and decided to overpower the US physically, they could literally walk over their drowned dead in a bridge across the Pacific and still smother us completely merely with masses of bodies, never lifting a finger, just a massive sit in/on. I'm just sayin'. I pointed it out as a possible answer to race supremacy: fact, if there are much, much more of your sort of folk, you are the current supreme race (at least population wise, and possibly brain power, and lots of other reasons based merely on population density and statistics). And of course, someone always points out that we would bomb them to oblivion. Cuz we are brainiacs. sigh.

Neither hypothetical is actually attractive...and I didn't account for sharks or currents or chickenlivers or hypothermic conditions.

It's hot again. We survived the pestilence sprays last night, heard the planes roaring overhead like little mini bombers dousing us with pyrethins. At 9PM. Not sure how many skeeters are out that late, but I didn't see any tell tale winged bodies laying about this morning. So I'm guessing not too many? Turkeys were okay this AM, but didn't see Haw-ha.

They are spraying again tonight.

West Nile is a symptom of global warming, pointed out astutely by Mary in Reno. Sure, there are skeeters in the tundra, but it's the tropical ones carrying all the yuck around with them. When will we learn that EVERYTHING is interconnected? I wonder how bad the sprays actually are? I wasn't worried until I read it killed a cockatiel once long ago. And since I didn't see Haw-ha...I worry.

More sighing.

~Amelie, Pestilence and War

2:03 PM

Sunday, August 07, 2005  
I found out about 3 hours ago that Peter Jennings died today. That's sad.

Other than that, had a great day. Picnic in park, thanks to Fabulous Ally Kat Grrl who organized that sucker, went great. It was hot, but everything was an adorable pink and green and she did so much for us I just wanted to weep with gratefulness. What a good friend! Loads of people showed up from as far away as Fresno, and lots of our friends came from the Bay Area, and we got to gab with folks we haven't seen in ages, and then loads of them stayed to tidy. For such a hot day? That's amazing. PF and I were late to a special class that was scheduled back-to-back (my fault), but it was worth it and the instructor wasn't upset. It was actually pretty relaxing. We were up for a bit more socializing and knew some friends would be down for a visit, so we came back to Sacto and hung out and made some weiners and burgers and talked, talked, talked until it got late. Just nice. It's how summer should be all the time. My summer has been too hot, muggy, bright, and dry for my tastes. But today? Even with all the hectic running around? Perfect.

Except that Peter Jennings died. Which is sad.

I'm tired, but very happy.

I want to move back to Downtown. PF is right. It's the only place to live. I will miss Haw-ha though. He's the wild peacock that has a crush on me and answers when I talk to him.

Love and Kisses,

The Amelie

11:37 PM

Saturday, August 06, 2005  
In 1945, The Enola Gay dropped Little Boy on Hiroshima (if those are the QUEEREST names for bombs and bombers, I challenge you to find queerer), killing upwards of 140,000 Japanese civilians in a matter of moments that dragged on into hours and days. Most initial survivors eventually succumbed to scored and violent, absolutely evilly wretched radiation burns that seared their bones, crusted their flesh, and cooked them from the inside out. Tiny little children died in arms begging for water that poisoned them further. 3 days later, the US dropped another H Bomb on Nagasaki's civilian population, thusly causing the Japanese to surrender a lot faster than they would have (but come on, they were losing, gimme a break). The vast majority of the US population says this is was the Japanese comeuppance, it broke their backs, caused ulimate loss of face, and made the US the SOLE superpower of the 21st century, so it was worth it. 400,000 US troops and citizens died in the South Pacific and Western Europe. That's a lot of bodies. That was a giant, major deal. We wanted blood., and Hitler had already shot himself in his bunker. And sure, it's not like the Japanese soldiers were lovely people; the atrocities committed in China and in POW camps were outrageous.

To this day, the Japanese comeuppance has been a near effortless climb in economic status rivalling only the US, and they'll probably pass us up, losing the battle but not the ultimate war if war it be. Hey, I drive a Honda, and I LIKE IT. Today (well actually yesterday for them), the Japanese placed thousands of lanterns in the river to commemorate the dead. That must have been absolutely breathtaking. It's a Shinto ritual.

I still say bombs are bad, bad, bad.
And to the folks who say "we didn't know what would happen", you are stupid. The Bikini Islands stand as a testament to what force and knowledge we did have before dropping a round or two of H on human populations. The mere fact that sea turtles grew 14 heads and the coconut trees could actually cry should have been clue enough. But I have an unenlightened opinion about these things since I'm anti-establishment on most issues.


Sad stuff and it should be remembered.

IN other news, some Arab women were killed in Israel by an Israeli extremist, and since something like 20% of the Israeli population is Arab, there's quite an outcry. It's very sad, and I have no idea how non-secular Jews would get by on Fridays without Muslims in their nation, so why don't they back off of the non-militant, pleasant neighbors most Muslims are? I guess they are too polarized. Israel's got a lot of heat lately for it's spydom. The Mossad is actually one of the best intelligence agencies in the universe, so it's interesting that they are finally taking some heat for being opportunistic. Mainly, they are getting the crap kicked out of them for selling US military secrets. Not sure why. It ain't like Rove, that ninny, isn't as bad or worse than a foreign group. sigh. But anyway.

And lately it's not fun to be in England. I wouldn't know. I've never been. I'm severely deprived. But Blair has turned it into a draconian state in a matter of hours. Someone said it's like he's been possessed by John Ashcroft. Food for thought...Ashcroft IS the devil, or one of his many minions...

And to ye I say, it's hot out today. I'm bored and have to go to Costco for a bunch of reserve foods due to the fact that I always feel like I have to stock up when we hit that place. Still. Costco is my favorite Cinder Block Warehouse of all time.

~Amelie, Nag, Nag, Nagasaki.

11:33 AM

Thursday, August 04, 2005  
Today was a lovely day yet again spent at the Hospital undergoing some routine stuff. I was watching TV and getting some blood drawn and the phlebotamist asked me about some Sesame Street program I happened to be watching called "A Is for Asthma" (yes Moe, it really exist, no joke!!) and I said "Yeah, earlier I was watching Elimidate, but then I turned on the "newborn care" channel and got me some hot, hot boob watching in." She said, "You know, that's funny, I always get a little weirded out when the guys and guards from Folsom Prison come into ICU and watch the breastfeeding show. They sometimes drool." For some reason, while I understand sex deprivation is a sad part of paying your penance to society for your various naughtinesses, this completely makes me laugh and want to vomit at the same time. When I have kids, I'm gonna whip out my boobs and breast feed from here to high heaven, I don't care how big a stink people want to make. The boob, while I agree it is a hot commodity, is a modified sweat gland that makes human milk for newborn baby mouths. I have never understood why people would make a decision and CHOOSE in advance of any problems to bottle feed, although I know plenty of people who have had to do this due to unforeseen issues and certainly they ain't "bad maman" material, but think about it. We are so oversexed in society that we get upset when a baby cries in a mall for nunu action, and the mom sits somewhere-that-is-not-a-toilet-stall to feed her boo, and sure enough you can bet yer sweet boopy that poor mom is going to get the disapproving lookyloos. Or the sex craven inmates at local prisons will get their eyefuls of sopping wet nunu juice and accompanying teat which I have also been told is a fetish fave...both of these reactions are just totally unacceptable. The "I gotta problem" folks and the psychos need to back off big time. It's a BOOB. Nobody should get anymore excited about a boob that is not offered to them in an explicitly sexual manner than they do about a small toe peeking out of a sandal.

I want to design Tee shirts. PF used to do this often. I have heard much of ye olde designs, including the "What's the Frequency Kenneth" shirt that he never got credit for from REM...Maybe, just maybe, I can get him to design a Republicannibals shirt with something similar to the Eat The Rich logo, and now I want to get a "shut yer gaping maw, it's just a boob" tee shirt for the publicly breastfeeding mommas of the world. Not that I don't think some gals really need the privacy to feel comfy. Still. They should wear such shirts proudly...but maybe not at Folsom Prison.

In other news, I have discovered the L'Oreal Microdermabrasion and have been singing it's praises to various and sundry folk ever since. Walgreens has it on sale for 2 bucks off and inside the kit you get yet another coupon for 3 bucks off on your next purchase. It's pretty great. I had no idea cosmeceuticals were so fabulous lately. I've been mainly buying dove products and bar soaps all year to save money. But this kit is worth it for sallow, dry, flaky, discolored, or sun damaged skin. I promise. They oughtta pay me for my vouchsafe.

For now, all things are kosher in my world. It's just hot. They say it will be hot for another week. That's fine by me. I tivo everything I want to watch during the day and sit there with an ice water and the remote under a fan with A/C. Daily Show has been good all week. So was the last Robot Chicken. And I even watch so much news, I viewed a story that BBC World News did last week and ABC World News STOLE AND DIDN'T GIVE CREDIT FOR the exact same footage. They even overdubbed the brit accents. Pretty good. If it wasn't for Niger, I wouldn't cry at all. But those pictures of starving children in the second poorest country in the world make me so sad, I've actually sent money to Medicins Sans Frontieres/Docs W/out Borders. What else can you do? There are children dying and for once Struthers isn't strutting around selling you on their pain. 3 month old tiny babies struggling for a gasp of hot air, people eating the rotting carcasses of long dead cattle, families huddling together weeping as the young and old alike simply die in their arms...I can't stand it.

Anyway. I think I just tangented majorly.

~Amelie, Boob Action Without Borders

1:54 PM

Wednesday, August 03, 2005  
Today, en route to the doctor's office, I heard Rush Limbaugh reading frantically from a news piece that sounded suspiciously like an onion rant. And he was sooo upset. I turned off the program because hello, he pisses me off so much I want to scream "you idiot, you can't even recognize PARODY!" And later, on my way back, I heard him again, reading yet another capsule of sardonic wit, and part way through he asks his aids "Is this another parody piece that I'm reading??" Because you know, he has to check. And sure enough, as if the actual BODY of the inanely funny piece wasn't clue enough for his drug addled brain, it was signed by contributors Jason Blair and Stephen Glass(man). HE READ IT ALL THE WAY THROUGH TO THE SIGNEES. I was dying. I nearly crashed, I was laughing so hard. Man. It just proves my point that republicans ought to be cannibalized by the rest of us, they are too dumb to exist in real life.

As for more fun, this is hilarious and was posted on the Indiechix by G-Bomb, who won't let me use her real name cuz she's famous like dat....Oh man. Just clicking will make you so happy with giddy delight. Flavored Preteen Tampons. You really need a good joke once in awhile...oh wait, those are real...

~Amelie, the girl who sang a fake ditty for Liquid Bologna in french class years ago with her pal Amoeba...
Bologna Liquide, une petite tape vous fera,
pour les personnes qui s'inquiètent de leur pain

7:46 PM

Tuesday, August 02, 2005  
The trip down to LA was relatively uneventful except for the amount of time it took for us to find me a bathroom every 30 minutes. The wedding was beautiful, very well planned, and kind of strange. I definitely wept a bit, but only when my cousin saw his bride and started wiping his own eyes like he he couldn't believe how lucky he was. I found out later that her mother told my mom weird stuff. Basically this woman turned out to be a wack job, and has even told my aunt negative stuff about her son not being good enough for her daughter. Let's face it. If the guy is related to me and my aunt, he's good enough for an empress, let alone a little big titted twerp from Pasadena's daughter. I think my cuz and his new wife were blissfully unaware and totally enamored of each other, and I hope it stays that way. Meanwhile, my heart goes out to my aunt, who raised her kids alone after her awful husband turned out to be a complete asshole, and who is an amazing lady who got her feelings hurt on her son's wedding day. I wonder how you deal with that? She's stuck with these people as inlaws for quite a duration, and when babies enter the picture there are birthdays and other events that will be attended by both families. I really wonder how this stuff is dealt with. I have a good comeback for jerks like my cousin's new MIL: "Wow, are you on meds yet? Because my dad is a doctor and I'm sure he'd be happy to help sedate your silly ass...if you are going all natural and drug free, I'm happy to help and can give you a boot to the head, just give me a reason."

On the way back, the pee thing was still in effect. We took 99 back and it was actually nicer than 5. I always take 5 because I'm psychologically convinced it is faster, but if you have to pee every 30 minutes, throw that out the window. There's more stuff to see on 99. Like B-52 bombers and a Mammoth Orange and Kingsburg, which we just sort of waved at. Before Gorman we saw a Prius wedged underneath a Wholesale Fuel oil tanker at a weird angle, and that was kind of neato. We saw no less than 2 overturned vehicles including a UHaul in southbound traffic near Galt (my parents reported an extra one on the Grapevine that they saw about an hour earlier than us, but it had cleared by the time we puttered through), and a seriously ON FIRE pick up on the shoulder that probably was on the verge of exploding the flames were so disastrous. Still. What is with all the overturned vehicles? How do you flip your car when you are not drinking and it's rush hour (or as rushy as it can get in the rurals) and it's broad DAYLIGHT???? I just haven't got a clue. PF says it's because they are jerkasses.

I'm glad to be home. My pets missed me. My ant traps didn't do as good a job as I had hoped. My dog came home with a rash because the friend who watched him told me her dog ate my dog's food and vice versa and that the food had no wheat. I said "okay, but he's allergic to corn, not wheat." And she was properly chagrined when he started itching on cue. My Seamas. What would I do without him? I will have to find a good taxidermist in a few years when it gets to be his time...

~Amelie, Thinking Ahead

11:22 PM

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