oblivietto

I'm feeling a little bit wacky. I've been in a flare for about a week. I thought I was on the mend for about half a day, but I think I may have just been over-caffeinated. This time around seems to be primarily fever, fatigue, joints, kidneys, and exquisitely tender glands (I have a fascination with the ache and swelling and can't seem to stop pressing on them. I'm weird that way.) I was worried for awhile because there were a few hints of spinal cord issues, but they went away, thank goodness. Per usual, I've decided that I am tired of this! I'm going to do a really intense meditation tomorrow and see if I can't get the healing jump-started!

I would do that tonight, but we are - once again - supposed to get violent storms, including tornado activity. The storms that are bearing down on us right now have already spawned multiple tornadoes, and are only gaining strength. Damn, I'm tired of this weather!

In good news, my daughter got her new flute and begins summer band tomorrow morning. She is very, very pleased. Here she is, my freckle-faced girl:



I'm having fun looking for pics to answer a little meme, which I will put up posthaste. Hope the wicked weather doesn't blow any of you away!
Peace,
~O~

I'm very, very sad. We have two pets - Tulip (a lovely lop rabbit) and Lester (a portly gentleman guinea pig). I know most people don't get extremely attached to rodent-like pets, but we're not allowed to have a cat or a dog so they are very, very dear to us. A few days ago we noticed a lump on Lester's belly. He didn't even seem to notice it was there, and cysts are very common in guinea pigs. I took him to the vet this afternoon to have the cyst aspirated, and it turned out to be a massive malignant tumor. It felt fluid-filled because it had invaded a blood vessel and bled under the skin. I had to have him euthanized. He chirped like a little bird and nibbled on my fingernail while he went to sleep. I'm just ridiculously sad about it, and can't seem to stop being teary. He was a wonderful little piggie. Bye, Lester.

~O~

Well, I guess today wasn't the day for the Rapture of the Church after all. I think it was irresponsible in the extreme for Harold Camping to forecast the Rapture to the world. Apparently quite a few people sold their homes and all their assets because they believed they would no longer need them. I imagine there will be lawsuits, although I don't believe one should be able to sue for one's own stupidity. The thing is, I feel sort of sad for Camping. I don't think he was a fraud. I think he really, truly believed that he was going to meet his Lord and Savior today. Besides the stomach-churning stress he must be feeling at having to explain his mistake to the entire planet and his complete and utter loss of credibility, he must be feeling real personal disappointment and facing a serious crisis of faith. I just can't shake this feeling of sadness, thinking about Camping sitting behind closed doors, thinking, "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?" Everyone I've talked to about it is scolding me for being "too soft" or "too kind", but is there really such a thing as too much kindness? Are we meant to ration mercy? Hmmmm.

Enough of that. I'll leave you with two things: an appeal to not be too hard on the true believers who are now left feeling empty and foolish, and, because I'm only human, this awesome comic. *grins*
peace,
~O~

I love rainy days, and we've got one. There is nothing so soothing as the soft, steady sound of the rain. The small, but insistent, press of the rain will lull even the most vigilant thinker to reverie. Even more than rainy days, I love rainy nights. Even though my natural tendency is to be a night owl, I make a beeline for bedtime when it's rainy. Add some gentle thunder and I'm deeply content. Mmmmmm.

And now for a thoroughly jarring change of subject...

Today was the day that Majid Movahedi was due to face his sentence and lose his eyesight. In 2004 in Iran, Mr. Movahedi attacked Ameneh Bahrami, a woman who had repeatedly turned down his proposals of marriage. It was a horrifically common attack; he fell on her and threw acid in her face, blinding her in both eyes. In 2008 Mr. Movahedi was found guilty of the crime and sentenced to have ten drops of sulfuric acid dripped into each of his eyes in retribution. Ms. Bahrami will be invited to physically carry out the sentence. If she refuses, officials will do the job. In 2009 the Iranian Supreme Court approved this punishment. By the time I'm writing this, the sentence will have already been carried out. I could go check, but I haven't got the heart. This case raises very interesting issues about crime and punishment, violence and retribution. Acid attacks upon women (particularly those who turn down a suitor) are becoming more and more frequent, and I find that absolutely abhorrent. These women are guilty of nothing, yet their lives are destroyed. Shouldn't the attacker pay for his crime? Well, maybe. My blood says yes, but my spirit says no. We must be better than this. Even if I were the victim in this case, I could not pour sulfuric acid into his eyes. Or maybe I could. What if it was my daughter? I definitely could. But doesn't that make me just like him? We can say, "Well, no, because he is guilty of something terrible, while the victim was guilty of nothing." But we are not to judge one another. To many people ("WRONG people!", my angry heart says), she was guilty. Of course we know better. But aren't we supposed to be good enough to know better in his case as well? *sighs* It's so hard to be good. I want to be like Justice herself, and inflict all kinds of agony upon evil-doers. But then, of course, I'd be an evil-doer myself; I'm only human and can't judge anyone's actions or motives with perfect clarity - not even when it seems obvious. Yes, it is hard to be good. I hope and pray that some blessing comes from the pain that both of these human beings have suffered and will suffer, and I pray that they may both learn to forgive.

peace and endless peace,
~O~

ETA: The sentence of blindness, due to be carried out at noon today, has been postponed. It has not been cancelled or commuted, simply delayed. I'd like to think that it's because they can't find anyone willing to perform the actual act, nor any physicians (to test the results, apparently) willing to take part in the sentence at all. Sometimes this world hurts me.

This world can't stand too long
Be ready don't wait too late
You should know it can't stand long
For it is too full of hate...
written by Jim Anglin, performed by Bob Dylan

We've broken the record for Hottest May 10 Ever. It reached the mid-90's on the Iowa banks of the flooded Mississippi today. And humid? OMGs, I can't even describe it. The sky was hazy and smelled of ozone all day. Even as the sun is setting, the temperature is still near 90 degrees. My beloved lilac bushes are sweating out the sweet scent of May into the thick air of August.

Tuesday is therapy day. As much as I admire my therapist, I think the lilacs do more good. Who can frown in the presence of so much sweet purple?

ETA: My last A recent post marked the occasion of Beltane, one of the Sabbats in the wheel of the year. It's a festival of fire and fertility, a great celebration of consummation. In that spirit, I offer poetry. This lovely piece speaks to me of the opposing, balancing energies of the universe, as well as the passion of lovers. I imagine these words whispered in divine bliss, and it makes me happy.

Paris and Helen
by Judy Grahn

He called her: golden dawn
She called him: the wind whistles

He called her: heart of the sky
She called him: message bringer

He called her: mother of pearl,
barley woman, rice provider,
millet basket, corn maid,
flax princess, all-maker, weef

She called him: fawn, roebuck,
stag, courage, thunderman,
all-in-green, mountain strider,
keeper of forests, my-love-rides

He called her: the tree is
She called him: bird dancing

He called her: who stands,
has stood, will always stand
She called him: arriver

He called her: the heart and the womb
are similar
She called him: arrow in my heart.

Pax et bonum,
~O~

So my kitchen sink has been leaking. Really, really leaking. It started out as an annoying *drip ... ... drop", and then changed to *dripdripdrip*, and finally over the weekend it became *o n e l o n g p o u r". Definitely time to call the landlord. I never know how much she's going to understand when I call her because she's in her mid-nineties and is beginning to lose the thread a little. But apparently she understood, because the maintenance man showed up today with a new faucet. But not just any old new faucet - hell no. When Veda replaces something, she goes with the good stuff. She's an *awesome* landlord! So we got this new faucet, which I have actually openly ogled in Delta fixture advertisements on TV. It is so pretty! Graceful curves, handly little push button thingy that changes it from a flow to a shower-y thing, soap/lotion dispenser in the place where the sprayer used to go, and, best of all, the body of the faucet itself pulls out of its casing to become the sprayer! I am in serious fixture lust with this gorgeous beast of a faucet. The down side: we can't use our dishwasher anymore. Whatever - it will be a treat to do dishes with this thing! I've never been so thrilled over a household appliance before. Well, okay. There was the Kitchenaid mixer. And the front-open washer and matching dryer. But honest, that's it! I am a satisfied customer! *performs little dance of joy for sophisticated plumbing fixtures* Woo hoo!

Hi, journal. I haven't visited you for awhile. I had good intentions - really, I did - but bad health and real life got in the way, per usual. I promise to pay you more attention and bring you lots of delicious entries from now on. How 'bout a hug?

Love and kisses,
~O~

Oh, Iowa. You've disappointed me. What is this "justifiable homicide" bullshit??

It seems that there are two proposed pieces of legislation (House File 153 and House File 7), which, in combination, would serve to create a loophole that would make it legal to use "deadly force" to protect a fetus. In other words, murdering abortion providers could be considered a justifiable homicide. This is just not okay. All providers of this completely legal procedure would live under constant threat of attack by deadly force. So would any woman who entered a clinic where abortions are performed. I am incredulous and sickened that this is even being considered by our legislature. This is wrong.

Please join me in signing this petition, entreating Iowa lawmakers to vote against House File 153 and House File 7. It's easy to sign, and will only take a moment of your time. You can help protect lives and women's rights. As a woman and an Iowan, I appreciate every single signature on the petition, and I thank you. Please share this information and petition in any forum you can.
Pax et bonum,
~O~

Have you seen this? I came across this amazing video, and OMGs, can't stop watching! It's fantastic in and of itself, and it doesn't hurt that it has, IMO, the unmistakeable flavor of SPN slashiness.




There is nothing but love here:
- awesome photography.
- Smooth Criminal. It's never not cool.
- two beautiful boys dueling it out in leather, on black CELLOS.
- if you squint, the shorter guy could totally pass for Dean Winchester. Srsly.
- not as compelling, but the SPN Theorem also applies to Tall Messy Hair.
- it bears repeating: Cello Fight! Furious frenzied v. implacable cool stare. Mmmmmm.
- Messy Hair's crazy, hellish bowing frenzy at 3:20.

This makes me want to fic.

And here you go. Of course it's better if you click on the YouTube link and watch it there in full screen, but this will do:
Pax et bonum,
~O~

I just woke from the oddest dream. ( cut because other people's dreams are annoying )

So Jean-Claude Baby Doc Duvalier is back in Haiti. This is, in my opinion, utter betrayal on the part of our government. If we had the power and the means to force Duvalier, his family, and his regime out of Haiti twenty-five years ago, we certainly have the power to keep him out. His departure was celebrated by Haiti's people, and they hunted down and killed his Macoute (translated: "bogeymen"), who had acted outside the law for years, stealing, raping, pillaging, and otherwise terrorizing poor villagers. They were known by their trademark mirrored sunglasses, which were found discarded all over Haiti after Duvalier's departure, in an attempt to hide themselves amongst the people. But memories are long. Mirrored sunglasses would not stop me from recognizing a Macoute who had raped my daughter or murdered my son, and I would take grim pleasure in my vengeance.

When Baby Doc left Haiti, he took much of the country's wealth with him. As despicable as this was, we apparently tolerated it in return for his promise that he would NEVER return. But he has left Paris, where he's been living in comfort for the last quarter-century, and he has returned to Haiti, perhaps sensing a power-vacuum in the continuing devastation after last year's quake. I am angry that we did not hold him to his word, and I am fearful of the havoc he may wreak now that he's back. Haiti's poor and hungry hold a special place in my heart, and I pray for their well-being.
Pax et bonum,
~O~

ETA: Hooray! Duvalier has been detained by Haitian police and taken before a judge, who will determine whether he will stand trial for his reign of greed and terror.