The Lotus

Summer is in the air.  I spent the last couple of days DEEP cleaning.  I emptied out a storage space and consolidated the left over stuff with my other storage space (getting rid of old junk and saving $$$ in the process).  I'm still in a cleaning groove but decided to take a break for a few minutes before I resume tossing out yet more stuff and organizing.  I find this type of cleaning very therapeutic.  I know I'm weird.

All of this lifting, moving, cleaning, leaves me pretty tired.  At the end of the day I'm pretty wiped out and ready for sleep.  Oh boy, me and sleep.  That means weird dreams.  Here goes.  I did dream that I was a lotus.  In the dream I wanted to know *why* I was a lotus.  It was because basically the lotus grows from a pile of yuck and s*** into a lovely flower.  The lotus overcomes an environment where others struggle and die.  Overcoming the yuck only makes the lotus stronger.  The resounding message that I was receiving was that I was so much stronger than what I give myself credit for and that no matter what crud gets tossed my way I will thrive and be a fighter and a survivor. 

I guess that's true.  Just ask anybody who has ever pissed me off.  I will serve you back your own shit.  Tastes good with ketchup, right? 

I was then sent to a beach where the sun was setting and the full moon rising simultaneously.  As the twilight approached people came out of nowhere to the beach to watch this show of nature.  The moon then turned beet red and I was supposed to tell everybody on the beach why.  I did not know why but everybody was looking to me for answers and I had none. 

The Fax

I had an interesting experience today with my daughter.  Not too long ago, when a good friend turned 50, my daughter was fascinated with the turntable that was brought out to play records.  She had never seen a real one before being a millennial.  Wow.  That really struck a chord with me.  Never seeing a record player before?  That was the center of my existence as a youngster. 

Today it was the fax machine.  My daughter is in the midst of a major life transition.  Being the anal-retentive-organized-financial-form-filler-outer that I am, I had her come to my office with her stacks of paper that needed to be dealt with.  Mom is an ace at organizing paperwork, information, and assorted financial tasks.  I do have a couple of  redeeming qualities.

One of the forms needed to be filled out and returned (or faxed) by the end of the week.  No email, just either snail mail or fax.  Fax????  Really????  My daughter wanted to know how to operate the fax machine.   I still keep that old relic around just for moments like today. 

For once I knew how to operate technology that she did not, albeit old technology.  Yes, a fax machine.  They still exist.  How quaint.  It's kind of like having a horse and buggy in the age of automobiles,. 

Student Loan Debt

I'm very pro-education, but against saddling youth (or anybody else for that matter) with debt that will bury them for life.  John Oliver touches on the reasons for student loan debt, but he leaves out that public universities are not entirely innocent on this racket, either. 

As an employer who has been conducting interviews for 25 years, we really don't care about the name of the school printed on your diploma.  Quite frankly what's printed on your diploma is between you and your ego.  Nobody else really cares.  Glad you have money to burn and try to impress people at cocktail parties. 

What we are really looking for are people who dare to step outside of society's prescribed debt trap and still obtain an education.  We look at someone who is self-taught (to a degree depending on the job of course) as somebody extremely motivated and willing to learn.  No employer wants to babysit a newbie.  That's a complaint I get quite a lot.  Employers want to hire, but they don't have the time to babysit or train.  They want somebody who can jump in and take the reins -- even if they make a few mistakes. 

John Oliver states it best.  This student loan business is quite ridiculous.  LOVE YOU JOHN OLIVER

Egypt Air Flight 804: Not Our Problem....but it is

(heavy sigh) What does United States Intel have to say about Egypt Air Flight 804?  Was it foul play?  Was it mechanical failure due to the airbus's reputation for fickle systems and maintenance?  I hate to say this, but our intel has a lot less of a news story than the media is portraying.  Dullness and fact finding prior to media broadcasting simply does not equate to the high sensationalism and associated ratings.  You all tune out right away if immediate terrorist blame, blood, and guts are not involved to find the latest episode of the Kardashians.  Sorry, reporting the news correctly is not always instant gratification. 

......not only that.....

It was a foreign aircraft over foreign airspace where the US was not the sanctioned one "on watch" and responsible.   However, to our discredit, we manage to mess up plenty on foreign soil on our watch - it just so happens not in this instance. 

Hey France,  listen up.....you're still *very* vulnerable an all accounts.  I will dare to mention that many of your terrorists were born in France.  Your problem is more home-grown and self-inflicted than you think.  I will also dare mention that Europe in general is very vulnerable.   Sorting out good from evil will be a continued effort as the very definition of good and evil tends to shift constantly and change depending on your point of view.  All I know for certain is that the future is optimistic, but history is violent. 

I don't have any answers for anybody and I don't pretend to.

Bye-Bye Daddy

I have friends who are still psychologically dealing with 'daddy' issues despite that we are now grown adults with families of our own.  I guess with Fathers' Day rolling around these latent, suppressed emotions come rolling to the surface like a dormant volcano that decides to blow.  Watch out.

Here is just a sampling of topics they are recovering from:

1.  Sexual abuse and molestation (way more common than anybody can imagine)
2.  Emotional abuse (head games designed to keep you under control and self-esteem low)
3.  Physical abuse (just in case #2 fails)
4.  Abandonment (dad just decided to disappear without word one day.  next anybody knew he had another wife and kids - repeat cycle)
5.  Alcoholism and other assorted chemical abuses and addictions.

Women often subconsciously base their entire future relationships with men based on childhood experiences with their dads.  No, I'm not a psychiatrist and I don't play one on TV and I'll stop with the Psychology Today psychobabble.  My sage advice?  Reprogramme yourselves, ladies.  It takes work and time......LOTS of it, but reprogramme, reprogramme, and reprogramme some more.  Run like hell if you find yourself getting into a relationship that mirrors your father.  You did not deserve his bullshit then, and you certainly don't deserve the continued bullshit now repackaged in another man.  You're more empowered than you think.  There ARE decent guys out there.  Lots of them. 

May Day May Day

Quiet Rage has been busy.  It's been a busy month.  May is typically busy just on its own with graduations, weddings, sports finals, and also events that I like to attend.  Toss into the mix things that were not planned and my so-called organized schedule goes hamajang.  That does not bode will with my German anal-retentive tendencies.  Things MUST (cracks whip) be PREEEEECISE and ORGANIZED, YA? 

Life.  Dealing with it. 

Despite the situation of politics and world events, I'm still looking forward to going to Europe this summer.   I am THRILLED beyond words that I will get to meet up with my English friends, CG and her husband.  I have not seen them in a long, long time and we have so much catching up to do.  Hey, both of them have remained friends for nearly 20 years now despite my warped sense of humor and my other quirky personality flaws.  We always manage to find humour in *everything* even when it might not be appropriate.  Thank goddesses they do not report to the politically correct police. 

Dreams

Last night was yet another trip into the world of dreamland.  I wish my passport to this place would get revoked and I could sleep like a normal human being. 

1.  I was with a houseful of people.  Many of them were family members and some were friends.  they all kept telling me that my house was haunted.  I knew that, but did not want to deal with it.  In the dream the phone kept ringing.  Everybody knew it was 'dead people' who wanted to talk and everybody was freaked out and did not want to answer the phone.  They were all looking at me to answer the phone and deal with it.  I did not want to deal with it, either.  They all kept prompting me to pick up and all I could think was WHY ME???

2.  I ran into an old boyfriend.  Just like in real life and in the dream I had not seen him for a long, long time.  There was that first moment when we met each other of awwwwwwww been a long time..hope you are well and that life is good (give each other hugs).   For a flash second I thought he had changed and thought that he matured and developed compassion.  I meant the warm greeting, and he did not.  Immediately after hugging him I got a sick feeling in my stomach.  His hug was not sincere.  It was just a ruse as his soul was just as rotten and self-centered as ever and his congenial greeting was all a flowery cover up. 

3.  SSP and I were clothes shopping.  Everything she tried on looked fabulous on her.  Everything I tried on looked dumpy and crappy and I was jealous.  To add insult to injury we decided to take a road trip in an RV.  When the RV broke down she knew how to fix everything and I did not so I started to bake cakes and cookies that eventually turned into tools to fix the RV.  Dumb dream. 

Election Season: Sonoma County

Hold on, people.  It's going to get more and more circus-like with the encroaching election in June.  It boggles my mind how some people can be so power-hungry that they will do and say ANYTHING....and I mean ANYTHING to get themselves elected.

If they are threatened with NOT being elected, they are trying to orchestrate behind the scenes for themselves positions where they cower behind the elected one to secure a steady income in this insane system of government salaries, benefits, and other troughs of pooled monies where fat, greedy pigs feed.

Don't believe me just watch.

Most people who run for public office have an inflated sense of self and think they are superior.  Why do we allow this to happen?  Because nobody with true compassion and caring of others wants anything to do with politics.  Hence, we have this merry-go-round of megalomaniacs.

It's times like these where we would fare better without elections....until those in power begin to abuse it as they all end up doing.   There's no answer to this.

Words

In the beginning was the Word...

That is what the Holy Bible opens with.  I'm not a religious nut-job who is threatening you with brimstone and fire.  I guess my point is that your words define you.

Have you said something mean to somebody?  Why?  Was it because they hurt you and you're trying to get revenge?  Was it an ego trip to make yourself feel better?  Was it something that had been brewing deep inside you and you did a projectile word vomit?

Have you said words to deceive somebody?  Why?  Because you wanted to manipulate and control them?  Make them think you're somebody you're not?  To get out of trouble? 

No matter.  The truth always tends to reveal itself.  Always.  It may take time, but false words can only cover for a false person for a limited factor of time.  Mick Jagger was right.  Time is on my side. 

Mothers' Day Part II

This Mothers' Day was not the best one I ever experienced.  There have been better ones that fit the description of a Hallmark card.  Not this one (sigh).  Motherhood.  It's complicated.   Just because a woman gives birth, that does make her mother material.  Only the self-centered and the vein think that motherhood is strolling in the park with sedated babies that never scream, cry, barf, or shit themselves (or on you) in designer clothing. 

Reality check.

Being a mother means you have basically freely given your soul and life purpose to someone else.  You will not have a moment to even *think* about yourself for the next quarter century.  Everything you do is for the ones you brought into this world. 

Guess what.  I've hit the quarter century mark.  Murderers who have done time in prison have been released on parole with less of a sentence.  It's my turn to be released. 

Mothers' Day and Mercury

How was my mothers' day?  It was ok other than the huge argument I got into with my daughter.  Believe me, the irony is not lost on this one.  I'm a VERY patient person and I drop hints along the way before I decide to blow your head off via serving back your own bullshit.  Funny.  Nobody ever likes it. 

Don't treat me like shit and then expect me to do things for you.  That goes for family members as well. 

No, I'm not perfect.  I know, I know..hard for you to believe;)   However, I am OPEN to hearing about what I'm doing that annoys the living shit out of others and sincerely APOLOGIZE and take CORRECTIVE ACTION.  I take people's words very seriously.  Why then dear people, why else would you say them?  Ego?  Manipulation of others?  Love hearing yourself talk?  If you're a bullshitter and your words are shallow they mean nothing then the writing is on the wall....you're not worth anything.  Move along. 

Enough of that.

Mercury is passing along the sun today.  I've already missed it.  I was not going to get up at 4:00 AM to observe it.  There was not anything to observe anyway as it's still dark at that hour here in California.

I don't follow the 'mercury retrograde' calendar.  However, when I'm feeling out of sorts and nothing is jiving I do check it periodically just for grins.  Hey, we all need to find blame something, right? 

The Revenant

The title of this film fits it perfectly - meaning that you no matter what happens to the main character, he just keeps on going and returns.  I'm just now getting to view the films that were nominated for the Oscars this year.  I'm late, I know...  However, the Revenant is the most true depiction of the American West I have ever seen.  No, the American West was not full of clean-shaven cowboys with white pearly teeth, and not all natives were bad and to be shot out of the saddle.  The plot.  Wow.  I won't go into detail as I don't want to spoil it in case you have not seen it.  If you watch closely and are able to catch the subtleties it will take your breath away.   I cried more than once, and that surprised me as my expectations of the film were only so-so at best because I still see Leonardo DiCaprio drowning off the Titanic and every teeny-boopper on the planet going into despair. 

I'm glad I did not follow the 'politically correct police' and bash the Oscars for giving Leonardo DiCaprio the award for best actor.  He deserved it.  Sorry.  How about everybody lightening up a bit and quit the automatic reverse-discrimination against white males? 

Freak for Food or Food Freak

I have pretty much a garbage gut.  I will eat just about anything.  Quiet Rage has a healthy appetite, but despite that I do draw my limits on foods I will NOT eat.  Here goes:

1.  Cilantro:  I HATE cilantro.  Just about everything in California is covered in it from salsas, soups, dips, etc.  YUCK!!!!  It tastes like SOAP.  Cilantro is #1 on my dislike list.  People ask me why I don't like it and downplay my aversion to it because it's everywhere on everything.  Here's how I get even - I drizzle dish soap all over their food and then ask why they don't like it...everybody else thinks it's GREAT. 

2.  Soggy Croutons:   If they are not fresh and crisp forget it.  I don't care how much flavor you say they have absorbed, they are soggy, mushy croutons to me.

3.  Brussel Sprouts:  Taste like tonsils.  Don't ask me how I know that.

4.  Raw Celery:  You think all kids like ants on a log with celery, peanut butter, and raisins?  Think again.  Raw celery ranks right up there with cilantro on the gross-0-meter.

5.  Lamb: It's gamey tasting and smelly.

6.  Tapioca Pudding:  If I wanted to eat fish eggs encased in a sac of membranes I would suck fish bellies.

7.  Oysters:  Snot luegies.  They are sooooo not an aphrodisiac.

8.  Lemon Bars:  My paternal grandmother was an excellent cook and baker.  One day I ate so many of her lemon bars I barfed.  Ruined it.

9.  Asian Food (in general):  Before I even knew I was pregnant with my son, my sister and I went to a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco.  Just the smells sent me running to the ladies room.  I will eat Asian food now, but I'm super picky about it.

10.  Lutefisk:  Cod soaked in lye?  Really?  Let's see......  hmmmmm... consuming fish that has been soaked in POISON.  I know it goes against my Scandinavian upbringing, but I don't know how this is even legal.  

No Party Preference vs Independent

I'm glad sometimes I'm smarter than I think.  When I registered to vote, I registered myself as 'no party preference' vs. independent.

That's going to make a BIG difference this election cycle.

In California registering yourself as 'independent' is locking you into the independent party, if you will.  Registering yourself as 'no party preference' is not locking you into any political party at all.  This little detail has caught many Californians off guard who registered themselves as independents thinking it meant no party preference.  For once, I must have read the fine print and thought about it prior to registering.  Too bad I don't remember doing it.

Unless you're a career ass kisser (oops, I meant politician) with running for office in mind,  I can't imagine WHY regular citizens would vow themselves to a political party.  It's stupid.

Which brings me to June 7 and my California voter information guide.  My one bit of over-simplified voting advice?  Trace the source of money contributions to each candidate and to each ballot measure.  You can get an overview of who's for or against what by following the money trail.  Sometimes they get sneaky and try to break down individual contributions, rather than the larger PAC contributions, into amounts that are almost non-traceable and just below the maximum allowed for individuals, but where's there's smoke, there's fire.  Just look who's running the PAC and an internet search will unveil the key players. 

Presidential Election 2016

We should not even call it an election.  Here in California which is the most populous state and the world's seventh largest economy, we do not even have a say in this until June.  By the time June rolls around our list of candidates has already been vetted by idiots leaving us with the choice of either Satan or Lucifer to vote for.

Not many choices are left on the menu...and what's on the menu isn't appetizing at all.

What do we do?  We are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

DNA - The Proverbial Black Hole

Looking at my DNA report is like going down the proverbial black hole.  I so wish I had a time machine to see how it all happened from the very beginning to present day.  It's sucks you in and before you know it, you've spent several hours on it. 

I thought for certain there would be some sub-Saharan African buried in my DNA somewhere.  Not even the teensiest percentage.  Absolutely none.  Zero percent.  Why?  Because there's a Confederate soldier from Georgia who ended up in Minnesota with horses during the Civil War.  We all know the Confederate States of America had slaves from western Africa back then.  I thought there would be one in the 'woodpile' somewhere (pardon the expression).

I also expected eastern Mediterranean and western Asia, maybe not in the immediate generations going back, but going back eons ago.  Nope.  My caveman homies were genetically based on the Iberian Peninsula. 

Bottom line?  My love for African music and my ability to dance like a black chick still remain a mystery;)

Haplo Group V1A - Lapplander

Ok.. I had my mitochondrial DNA tested for giggles as I suspected something in the family genetics.  I was expecting a chunk of southern Europe and eastern Europe to appear, but I was wrong..... I came back 2/3 north western European and belonging to haplo group V1a.   They went into a report to sort out categories.  What came back, which I was not expecting AT ALL, was a sizable DNA chunk coming from France.  From that bit of info it was broken down to the region of Basque and a catch-all category they labeled German/French which really means the Germans and the French were screwing each other so frequently along the Rhine River (and all the other rivers that divide France, Germany, Belgium, and whatever) in all conceivable ways possible - and the conceiving happened.

Yup.  And I'm here to tell about it. 

Here's my maternal DNA haplo group V1a going back THOUSANDS of years:

Haplogroup V is believed to have originated around the Western Mediterranean region, approximately 13,600 years before present- possibly on Iberia. It derives from the Haplogroup HV0a.

It is found with particularly high concentrations in the Saami People of northern Scandinavia, as well as the Basque people and somewhat higher among the isolated Pasiegos in nearby Cantabria. It also is found in particularly high concentrations among the Berbers of Matmata, Tunisia.  The highest levels are in Scandinavian and Western and North African populations. It is spread at varying low levels across Europe and smaller portions of West and Central Asia.

...anyway.... I was right about joking thinking being park Eskimo - kind of.. LOL... Laplander, Lapp, whatever.  Being genetically associated with the Lapps was a surprise.  No wonder they eventually migrated to Minnesota - they all were genetically built over the centuries to withstand the cold and the elements. 







 

Perspective and Slime

Let's put this all in perspective.  Yes, I was in a car accident on Friday.  Yes, my car needs a serious nose job.  Yes, it ruined my day.  Yes, my insurance rates will now probably get jacked up.

Look at my sister.  One accident ruined her day, too.  She was instantly widowed at an intersection at the end of her drive that lead out to the main highway.  She passes the scene each and every time she leaves or comes home.  She ends every text message conversation with me with how much she misses her deceased husband.

Exactly what am I complaining about again????

Uhhhhhhhh nothing.

Which brings me to the remainder of my weekend.  I had my 'granddaughter' again this weekend.  She is so much fun because she is sooooooo trying to make sense of this crazy world she was brought into and some of the things she says just cracks me up to the core.  I don't have the heart to tell to to stop trying to make sense of this crazy world because efforts will prove futile.

Anyway, days are getting longer and she found a snail in the backyard she named Slime.  She painted its shell and built it a luxury condo out of shoeboxes complete with a slide and swimming pool.  Her imagination is amazing.  She even fed Slime watermelon - and the snail ATE it!  What?  A watermelon-eating snail?  She then decided that Slime needed a friend, went outside with a flashlight, and not long after came back in with another.  Pretty soon the kitchen floor was set up for conducting snail races.  Slime won... He's pretty fast...for a snail.

About this time my 20 year-old daughter comes home.  She's as impressed with the snail race track and luxury condo as I am.

Bottom line:  You can buy kids all the electronic gadgets and gizmo in the world.  What do they play with?  Shoeboxes and garden snails.