6th Street Playhouse and Cinnabar Theatre

I am so sorry I abandoned music and drama in high school.  I used to be able to play the flute and piccolo really well and occupied first chair, but now I'm barely able to read music anymore and learning all over again.  I used to be in the school plays.  This was all back in junior high.  I can still hear my English teacher at the time telling my mother to keep me engaged in drama because I had a natural flair for it.  Drama.  Go Figure.  He wanted to see me continue on.  Same with music.  My music instructor had both my sister and I as students.  He LOVED my sister, so a few years later when I came up through the ranks I was automatically on his good side.  I tried really hard to never screw that up.

High school came around and I quit drama and music.  I did get dance out of high school, but it came at the price of abandoning the others.  I simply could not do all three AND keep on top of my studies..and.....of course, then there was the boy issue as well.... I was distracted. 

Life has thrown me a bone.  I've picked up dance again and now getting involved at the 6th Street Playhouse and Cinnabar Theatre.   My inner band geek and theatre geek are coming alive:)     I absolutely LOVE backstage buzz whether it's for dance or drama.  I love putting on make up and costumes.  I love warming up.  I love the hustle and bustle of it all.

I guess my point is that we are super lucky to have such quality community theatres in our back yard here in Sonoma County. 

FarmersOnly.com

FarmersOnly.com.  Because city folks just don't get it.

I can't make this stuff up, people.  There is now a dating site just for farmers.  I have dated my share of farmers when I was young.  My intended was a North Dakota farm boy.  God bless him.  He's now the father of FOUR boys.  His poor wife.  I would have shot myself in the head.  Granted, there is plenty of space for boys to run, climb, catch bugs, pee on trees, etc., out in the country.  Plus, lots of kids are needed to help on the farm with crops and animals.

I am so tempted to create a profile to see who is on this dating website.  I bet I have heard all of their pick-up lines already.
1.  Hey darlin' you look finer than a new set of snow tires;
2.  Wanna go to the tractor pull with me on Saturday;
3.  Check out my ice house;
4.  My boots would look good on your porch;
5.  You are so worth my opening up my box wine I have been saving;
6.  I would trust you with my favorite hunting knife and gun;
7.  Oh yeah....womanly hips and curves.  Good for birthin' youngens;
8.  Hey baby, my 4x4 can take you places you never dreamed possible.

Again, I can't make this stuff up, people.

Convening of the Coven: Northern Minnesota

Oh YES!!!!  I just booked my flight for the annual convening of my coven in northern Minnesota :)  Let's seeeeeee.... who is on my shit list we need to curse this year?  Just kidding (not really).  I meant it when I wrote in a couple of posts back NEVER to piss me off.  You have absolutely *NO IDEA* what I am capable of.  Put together even more witches and we are a force to be reckoned with.  I have a very long fuse and I give off warning shots along the way.  If you manage to piss me off you are truly an idiot who deserves my wrath. 

I can't wait to get to the Coven Cabin.  Note to self:  All my clothing will become a funky shade of orange due to all of the iron ore in the lake and have a metallic aftertaste.  Swimming in it feels like cold jello and not the warm, salty buoyancy and movement of the ocean.  The best part of the entire coven weekend?  Absolutely NO RULES for ANYTHING.  :)   :)   :)  :) 

The loons are not only on the lake, but also in the cabin LOL

Sister Sister

My sister and niece are coming to stay with me for a while.  My sister was instantly widowed when her husband died in a car accident in December at the end of their road en route to work.  Take nothing for granted, people.  If you think your life sucks just remember it could always get suckier in a flash.  My sister's life was definitely in suck mode before the fatal car accident for reasons I will not delve into now...and it got suckier. 

Now the dust is settling and the shock has worn off.  My sister is starting to pick up the pieces and move on.  It's hard.  People, don't ever die.  Do you realize how much WORK it is for those who are left behind to sort through?  We all plan on living a long, full life but fate could pull the rug out from you at any given moment.  While your soul is floating blissfully about on the other side sans body free of material and physical constraints those left behind are dealing with a nightmare that they can't seem to wake up from. 

I've tried to set my affairs in order in case something happened to me, but I freeze and end up on the floor in fetal position bawling my eyes out.  I've listed my kids as beneficiaries on pension plans and bank assets.  However, there is the rest of it I need to deal with like real estate and other assets.  Plus, there is the historical family stuff that I need to divvy up. 

Maybe I should not get my affairs in order.  All the assets and such are worth quite a sum of money.  My kids would be well off.  They would probably plot together to kill me in my sleep;)

Parking Wars

I have a reserved parking spot that I'm viscous about.  I rent it though the city and it's not cheap.  My pet peeve is coming back from lunch or whatever and SOMEBODY IS PARKED IN MY SPOT.  I go nuts.  My time is valuable.  I don't have time to ding around calling parking enforcement, the tow truck, etc.  Most of the time the lot is full so there is no other place to park so I just block them in.   I left a courtesy note with my cell/text on the reserved spot next to me as I needed to block them in as well.  I would move my car for them if they needed to get out.

About an hour or so passes.  My cell phone rings.  I answer it.  I hear a woman's voice saying, "I'm so sorry I think I parked in your spot.  I'm new to the area (she wasn't as I could tell from the local dealer license plate brackets and her 707 north bay cell number she was calling from) and I did not know."

To which I replied, "Really?  You can't read the large RESERVED sign but can read well enough to hunt my number off my neighbor's windshield to call me?  Sorry, but now you're going to have to wait for me. You thought nothing of inconveniencing me so I'm returning the favor."

The woman asked me how long I was going to be until I moved my car.  I told her until I damn well felt like it.  Click.  End of conversation.  Don't ever piss me off.  I will call you on your bullshit.  I do not anger easily but once I'm there I will own you.  Guaranteed.  The other thing is don't ever lie to me.  That pisses me off even more than if she would of owned up to it as being the dumb bitch she was and didn't give a lie for an excuse. 

Tick tock more time passes.  I know the daily routine of parking enforcement.  They also know me.  In fact, I'm related to several members of local law enforcement.  It's all in the family.  Parking enforcement shows up and knows exactly what's going on.  She asks me if I want the parking offender towed.  The woman and her male companion are standing a few yards away trying to figure out what we are going to do as they are antsy to get on their way as I've had them blocked in for a couple of hours.  

I decided that a parking ticket and a two hour delay in their afternoon plans was good enough. 

Tower of Power

My last entry title was about yoga, music, and dance.  I ended talking about work junk that had absolutely NOTHING to do with yoga, music, and dance. 

Well...here is how today went.  I was at work.  I knew the Sonoma-Marin Fair started tonight.  I flipped a text to my California BFF asking her what she was doing and wanted to know if she wanted to go to yoga class and then mosey on over to the Sonoma-Marin Faire to check out Tower of Power.

See.... my California BFF is a blonde, Jewish girl who spent her early informative years in a very black neighborhood in Oakland.  In her teens her family moved  from Oakland to a hippie commune somewhere in Marin in the 70's.  There's more, but I'll save it for another post.

Bottom line:  Tower of Power was a staple for my friend growing up.  We figured out they were playing tonight at the Sonoma-Marin Faire and we just HAD to go..... after yoga class, of course. 

Bottom BOTTOM line.... a phrase we hear a LOT..... "You move pretty good...for a couple a white girlz...." 

Yoga, Wine and Music

It's been a strange week for me so far at work.  It's supposed to be my quiet time now that everything has been settled.  My work seems to go in cycles.  Now that I'm clear of  Mr. Wonderful Los Angeles and the FBI, I have been assigned to another regional project that is kind of fun. 

For whatever reason, everybody in my industry is jazzed about the project that I'm working on and awaiting its roll out.  It's fun to work on something positive for a change that does not reek of money laundering, fraud, and racketeering. 

Fathers' Day

Fathers' Day.  This holiday also drudges up emotions that have the capability of exploding much like that of Mothers' Day.  Our immediate family is fodder for intense psychological molding whether it's positive or negative.  Immediate family is an emotional land mine.  Tip toe with care.

Fathers' Day brings up latent issues as well.  Media loves to post images of dad pushing his kids on the swing set in the back yard, teaching Junior how to fish, and all of them happily eating hot dogs that dad cooked on the BBQ in the back yard.  His cute daughter presents him with a gift from the family while Junior and loving wife look on.  Ahhhhhhhh... the Disney version.

Reality is something quite different.  There is a difference between a father and a sperm donor.  Some men believe that fatherhood ends at conception.  Many households shamefully harbor the secrets of Dad's torment and abuse (psychological, sexual, and physical).  Then there is the abandonment issue (both psychological and physical).   It's not uncommon for men to abandon their families for a woman 1/2 their age and then "father" yet more children.  The cycle continues.

Do we celebrate abandonment, abuse, and infidelity?  Are we to "forgive" our fathers for being self-centered by putting his own selfish needs above his own flesh and blood children?  Are we now supposed to call him up and say, "Gee, you dumped mom for somebody else and you totally ripped our family apart.  We are struggling in all aspects of life because of it,  but I still love you?"  Or, "Gee, you left when I was 2.  You pretended I never existed.  You never paid child support or gave me the time of day.  Now I'm suppose to think you're the greatest?" Or, "Gee, you beat the crap out of me in your drunken rages and told me I was a worthless piece of shit, I've done 12 years of therapy dealing with your sadistic abuse.  You never owned your part in destroying my psyche.  Now I'm supposed to tell you how wonderful you are?"

Granted, there are a LOT of wonderful fathers out there.  There are a LOT of LOUSY fathers out there.  Men have so much power in molding the self-esteem of their children.  I hate seeing that power abused or wasted.  

Daddy issues, anybody?????  h

Sick of Flying

That sums it up.  I am sick of flying.  Maybe I should communicate my thoughts more clearly.  Everytime I fly it seems like a few days later I contract the "it's what's going around" virus.  Perhaps I should wear a mask and bring my own oxygen tank when I need to travel by air.  Breathing the recycled air at 30,000 feet for hours on a lengthy flight is the prefect breeding ground for a virus to spread.  

Now here I am lying in bed missing out on a day I had planned for doing fun things :(   Tomorrow is Summer Solstice and also Fathers' Day.  I am hoping to feel well enough to drag myself out of bed and do something.  I find it kind of strange this year that Summer Solstice and Fathers' Day are on the same day.  What a weird pull of opposite energies -- the masculine and the feminine.  

It's the way of the cosmos pleading us all to just get along AND share celebration days simultaneously.  Peace out.  

Drunken Birds

No, that's not a typo.  I'm referring to drunken birds and not Angry Birds (the infamous app).  Well, I suppose some birds get angry when inebriated just like some drunk people do but I'm getting off track.

I have fruit trees on my property.  One of my favorites is my plum tree that produces gorgeous amounts of fruit.  I usually make preserves out of them in June.  The problem the last couple of years is that birds and other critters have discovered my plum tree and now it's the neighborhood food source/bar.  I have the party hot spot for those with feathers and fur. 

What happens is that the birds eat the fermented plums and they get drunk.  I have had birds fly and crash into my windows.  They usually hit the deck, stay there a few minutes stunned and dazed, and then fly away. 

I can't ID the birds, send them to rehab, or place other restrictions on them.  I just have to pick the plums faster than they can get to them.  It's not as easy as it sounds. 

Put Down the Bloody Smart Phone

You have all seen the shirt with the progression of hunched apes and the evolution process.  Well, pretty soon we will regain the hunch, lowered head, and curved spine we thought we evolved from.  Why?  Nobody can put down their iPhones.

At first it was tweens texting during meals.  Grown ups were initially annoyed but are now happily following this juvenile trend.  Now it's just about everybody thinking it's perfectly ok to ignore or interrupt present company to tend to somebody who is not present.  Nothing screams disrespect more than cutting your companion off mid-sentence to take a call, text, check social media, or whatever else is more important in that little, glowing screen.  Unless there is an emergency or you're on call with your EMPLOYER (and you're on the clock) or your house is on fire I can't think of a reason to attend to a machine rather than a present human.  Side note:  self-employed, self-important people are the biggest abusers of techteruption.  If you can't take a 1/2 hour of your time to talk to me face to face, PLEASE just skip the visit and text me sometime, OK? 

My other rant for the morning are those who are so busy recording and posting their lives they are not living it.  Just about everywhere you go people are posing and video recording everything for social media broadcast.  I have been at events recently that are pretty special and exclusive.  Glowing screens are being held at arms length recording themselves as if to say, "Lookie at where I am at!  I'm soooo coool and lucky to be here.  Aren't you jealous?"

All the while they are so focused on their phones they are missing out on the actual event. 

Oh, wait.  I just found a visual for the rant I just posted.  A picture is worth a thousand words. 

Jury Duty

The gods really do have a sense of humor.  Quiet Rage has been called to jury duty -- AGAIN.  I have been called so many times since I've turned of voting age that I have lost count, while others I know have NEVER been called.  Why is that? 

Anyway, I will probably be dismissed as you all know I call them as I see them and do not have a politically correct filter.  I have an uncanny ability to quickly cut to the truth and call people on their bullshit.  Can the Sonoma County Court handle me?

Probably not... tee hee..lawyers hate me.  Lawyers hate me because while they are able to sell their client's story to the jury I usually don't buy it. 

Game of Thrones: Season Finale

I don't know where my son gets these funnies ripping on Game of Thrones, but I certainly laugh when he sends them to me.  After Sunday night's season finale I'm wondering if at this point everybody in the entire 7 kingdoms should just do the Jim Jones thing and commit group suicide as everybody seems to die anyway.  Drinking poisoned punch seems kind in comparison to a messy, bloody, violent death. 

You Know You're In The South When: Jesus, Guns -n- Booze AMEN

A keychain/mini booze flask.  So much for drinking and driving responsibly.

 Jesus socks!!!  Can I get an AMEN????

The National Rifle Association:  Damn straight!  Lock and load. 

No wonder everybody here in the South is fat and slow.  The food is the best ever.  Even ordinary pizza tastes better.  Temperatures hover in the mid to high range of 'miserably hot and humid.'  Even breathing is an effort. 

I can't make this stuff up, people.

Dueling Banjos: Visiting a VERY Confederate State

I'm prepping for a trip to a place I have not been to for decades -- a VERY Confederate southern state.  When I tell people where I'm going they give me a funny look and say, "You?  Going to the deep South?  It just does not fit.  Why?"

The last time I visited a very southern state was when I went to Memphis.  No, I take that back.  I was in Miami recently, but southern Florida is NOT the "south."  In Florida, you have to go north to go south if that makes any sense to you all.

Anyway, when traveling to Memphis I was quite young but remember it well.  As a sheltered Yankee girl from the deep freeze of Minnesota I had never experienced their way of life.  The only thing I really had were visions of Gone With the Wind and my father's paper confederate money that fascinated me.

My first phrase I learned in southern linguists was seeing a giant billboard blaring HEP UR SEF.

Huh??? what????  Am I still in the United States?  Don't we all speak English????

Kind of.   My aunt pointed out that meant a "help yourself" gas station.   

Ohhhhhhhhhhh... then the wheels in my brain began to click.

Switching gears now I will be doing quite a bit of dancing while I'm in the south.  I love dance.  I especially love folk dancing from various cultures from around the world.  I'm especially well versed in: Polynesian hula, Greek folk dancing,  West African tribal, polka dancing, and urban line dancing.  I should have paid more attention in P.E. as a kid when they tried to teach us square dancing.  Damn it.  Now I'm going to a place that is still technically the United States but I don't have any cultural connection.  Looks like a crash course in dancing will be on my itinerary.

Prince: a.k.a. Roger Nelson

People with roots in North East Minneapolis know this guy as Roger Nelson.  Yes, they are both pictures of the same Roger Nelson.  When the Camden Bridge was built it joined mostly central European, caucasian North East (Nord East) and black, African-American North Minneapolis (NoMi). Bless the bridge or curse it?  Depends on who you ask. 

What happens to black pop stars when they get famous?  Why do they always want to turn themselves into white women?  Michael Jackson wanted to be a white woman as well.  Ooops.  I better retract that.  Bruce/Caitlyn Jenner is doing the same thing. 

6-6-66

Today is the birthday of a guy I once knew who dated my late cousin in North Dakota.  His birthday is 6-6-66.  No kidding.

We were merciless in calling him Devil Damien, Lucifer, Anti-Christ and other assorted names with inferences to evil.  I wonder why this guy put up with my cousin???  She made me look TAME in comparison with her taunts.  Perhaps that's why she died at a young age.

....anyway.... I really miss my cousin.

Each June 6th I think of my cousin's old boyfriend and giggle to myself.  He did befriend me on Facebook a few years back.  He did marry and has a lovely, beautiful family.  At this stage of life I don't dare write snarky comments on his Facebook wall in regards to his Devil Boy Birthday.  However, I do wish him a simple, harmless, inoffensive "happy birthday" and then secretly wonder what he ever did with the Ouija board.

Winter is Coming: Jon Snow - Game of Thrones

Quiet Rage does have a snarky sense of humor.  My stupid blog may be a general vent for daily irritations that amount to nothing.  I find it's waaaaaaaaay cheaper than therapy and nobody is forcing you to read this.  You're here on your own free will.  Besides, in reality I'm actually quite pleasant as I've had the chance to dump angry negativity here for your reading entertainment.  Ohhhhhhhmmmmmm.
All better.

I am a Game of Thrones junkie.  I found the below skit so hilarious I just had to share.

AirBnB and Vacation Rentals

Want to start controversy at the next neighborhood 4th of July BBQ?  Bring up the topic of short-term vacation rentals and watch everybody turn eight shades of red, then purple, and finally explode. 

The arguments for weekend vacation rentals always claim that poor, retired nurse Judy would not be able to stay in her home if she could not rent it out via AirBnB and other online rental venues. 

I call bullshit.

If Judy *really* needed income she would rent out her home long term and actually have a relationship with the person she is sharing her beloved home with.  Judy would actually have to live with and tolerate the people she lets into the neighborhood -- not just rent out and run away.  If Judy can't be bothered with the renters, why should the rest of us as the neighborhood? What did Judy do prior to AirBnB? 

Nothing drives down property values more than that "rental" on the corner....and I'm talking long-term rentals.  You all know you've asked that question when purchasing your own home.  What is the ratio to owners vs. rentals?  Now we need to ask "What is the ratio to long-term rentals to short term vacation rentals?  How many houses on the block are weekend party pads for those coming up from LA for a bachelorette party, wine tasting weekend, or the like?"

It's not my fault you can't afford to live in your own home and need to rent it out to complete strangers who throw their empty beer cans and roach clips onto my property.  Sorry you made irresponsible choices and now want everybody else to suffer except YOU.  Sell it.  God knows there is a shortage of homes for real families who want to place real roots into the community.  You can move to Nevada, Utah, or wherever where you think you can afford whatever it is you think you need. 

I think there will be a backlash with those listed on AirBnB and so forth.  Watch for the ol' ding dong ditch with ignited bags of feces.  Stomp with care, neighbor.  We are only sharing your own shit with you.  Stinks, doesn't it? 

Sonoma County: Measure A Defeat

Wow.  Sonoma County Supervisors are *really* out of touch with their constituents.  Here's the painful lesson the supervisors need to learn.  Attention Sonoma County Supervisors:  You may get your money from special interest groups, but you get your votes from the general population with no affiliation to special interest groups.

Tough quandry, isn't it?

We, the people, were asked to "trust" the politicians with more money.  I've said it before, I work hands-on in the financial trenches and see nothing but waste, waste, irresponsible spending, and more waste at the upper echelons.  The paving contractors et al were already lined up with their hands out for a lucrative government contract.  The labor unions were chiming in as they offer monetary support and promises of votes from the masses (which did not materialize).

Bottom line:  The only ones supporting this measure were politicians and special interest groups, which is NEVER a good combination.  Thank goddesses the people are waking up and not listening to the media as to how to cast their votes.  People are actually READING ballot measures now and following the money.  We are sick of deceit, waste, and greed at the upper levels of government.

Politicians come and go and hold no lasting accountability to their actions.  That's how we got into trouble with the under-funded pension issue to begin with.  If politicians were personally accountable beyond the time they served in office things would be different.

Plus, Efren Carrillo did not help this cause.  He thinks he only needs to please those in his own district.  The entire county remembers.  Efren, you should have resigned being the drunken pervert you are.  We take the credibility of the entire board based on your lack of accepting consequences for your actions and twisting events to lessen the severity using political ass-kissers to obtain your personal agenda.  That's what killed this ballot measure.  Lack of integrity and responsibility.  If Efren really cared about the public he would have resigned.  He did not.  Supervisors:  You are only as strong as your weakest link. 

Measure A

Tomorrow there is a controversial election regarding increasing the sales tax to "fix our roads."

Bullshit.

I'm voting no and I will tell you all why.

1.  The California Lottery was supposed to "save our schools."  Our local elementary school recceived a check for $128.77.  Our schools were not saved;

2.  The California gasoline tax was supposed to "save our roads."  It didn't;

3.  I work in the financial trenches and see nothing but waste, waste, and more irresponsible spending and waste.  Those at the top of the government tiers secure obnoxious funds for themselves and their cronies.  By the time it travels downhill all the funds are dried up and they cry poor.

4.  Whatever you give them in taxes will never be enough.  They will ALWAYS spend more than what they have.  Stop the insanity;

5.  Who cares if our roads are in need of repair?  The locals know where the potholes are and can avoid them.  Why should we pay to pave the streets for non-resident tourists to speed up and down our roads in their Teslas?  They love our rustic, country, "organic" ways so give them what they came for.  It all adds to our natural, country charm.

6.  Never trust a politician.  EVER.