Talking Along

It's snowing!

2010-02-05T23:57:00.003-05:00

It's snowing! It's snowing! It's snowing! It's sno-o-o-o-o-ing!
Ok, I admit it. Nobody loves snow that much. We're in line to get a foot or more tonight, and I'm really happy to be snowed in.
But then we come to our local television station, who is having what a co-worker of mine has called "weathergasms" over our latest winter storm.
They even announced tonight that the weather was bad and cars were getting stuck on a hill. What, cars stuck on a hill? In February. In the snow.
Ok, I'm not so thrilled with the snowstorm. I'd rather it be in the 80s and sunny. with me on the front porch with a cold drink and a hot romance to read.
But really, it's no news flash to have it snowing in the winter.
I mean, News 9 had an hour and a half newscast on Friday night and will return at 7 a.m. Saturday for another two hour newscast. On the snowstorm.
Enough already. Be sure to click on the first sentence. It's Pee-Wee Herman.
I think News 9 should just use it instead of doing its own forecast.

Tweeting...

2010-01-20T17:59:00.002-05:00

I'm really playing around on Twitter now. It's so cool! I have followers from all the major papers in the country, and I've even been sending messages with the political columnist for the LA Times!
Now to move my efforts onto Digg, Stumble Upon, and every other social media site around.
Evil plan of domination!

Ha! Just HA!

2010-01-19T18:56:00.003-05:00

I've been a journalist all my life. Except, that is, for a few months last summer.
My then-boss told me that my services weren't needed any more. In fact, he eliminated my position and hired a saleswoman to run his newspaper, and then found a way to cheat me of my unemployment.
Oh, well, what's past is past. I needed to find a way to make money, and I did it by finding blogging work.
One of the favorite sites I've worked for is interactmedia.com, a site that values its writers and doesn't just abuse our talents.
Well, vindication is sweet. I just received an email from the owner. Interactmedia.com has been named as a top blog site for SEO copywriters.
I've stumbled into a great site that is becoming well-known among other professionals, and more people are reading my work in one day these days.
So thanks, former boss, for replacing me. I'm learning that I have talents that I never even knew I had.
I'm smart, I'm tough, and I will survive.

Coal miners taking a break

2010-01-18T23:49:00.002-05:00

This photograph was put in the Jan. 18 edition of The Times Leader in Martins Ferry, under the "Backwards Glances" section where old photos are put. Anyone else see anything funny about it? Besides the fact that these coal miners who were taking a break to pose for a photo were were taking a break to read their copy of HUSTLER magazine?

Aaah, nothing like a nice wholesome look at the past!

Gee, thanks for the offer!

2010-01-15T13:07:00.002-05:00

"I am in need of some serious writers who can work for $1.5/500 words (This is approx. 1 page, Times New Roman, 12). I require at least 2500 words content written daily. I am prompt with Payment (also prompt with answers to your questions)."

So let's see, that means you'll pay me what? $7.50 for each 2,500 words I write?

And you know what's sad? There are just way too many writers who would have no problem with accepting those terms of payment.

I'm a good writer. I can generally write 500 words every half hour or so. So that pays me about $3 an hour for a skill that not everybody would even come close to having.

Writers! Unite! Refuse to sell your craft for less than you'd make working at the local McDonald's. When we refuse to sell ourselves so short, these website owners will have to look elsewhere or pay up.

In a matter of seconds....

2010-01-13T18:26:00.002-05:00

Like so many people today, I watched and followed the horrific events in Haiti.

And all I could think is how in just a matter of a few seconds, everything changed.

Isn't it that way in life as well, how in just a few seconds, everything can change?

Think about it. Life can change for good or bad, just in seconds.

You can be driving along, enjoying your favorite song on the radio, when a deer runs in front of your car. That random second can cost you your life.

You can trip and fall, you can be bitten by a dog, you can step in front of a bus.

But the change in a couple of seconds doesn't have to be bad. It only takes a few seconds to make the eye contact with someone that you will fall in love with. A random smile can make someone's day better.

If you come right down to it, our lives are filled with all those random seconds, which stretch into minutes and hours and days and years.

We can't control what will happen in every one of those seconds, yes, but those seconds all matter, more than we would like to think.

And if you don't think those seconds matter, just imagine those fewer than 60 seconds that devastated more than 3 million lives in Haiti Tuesday night.

Somehow, that snotty attitude you had to deal with at work today really doesn't matter all that much, does it?

I'm baaaack!

2010-01-12T23:25:00.003-05:00

It's amazing how time flies, especially when life gets in the way.

But I really didn't realize I hadn't posted anything on here SINCE AUGUST!

Tonight I was on a campaign to add more Twitter followers (almost 100 new ones in one night! Yay! And if you're a new follower, tell your friends.)

And I've learned a lot since this time last year.

I've learned:

1. Nobody is indispensable. Nobody. You can think you're doing just fine and you can have the carpet pulled out from under you on the whim of the person who signs your paychecks.

2. You can work from the time you're 16 years old and never draw unemployment. But when your job is suddenly eliminated, you can expect to be screwed out of the taxes you've been paying all that time. It's like an organized crime program that nobody lets you know about until you need it.

3. Everybody has skills they never thought they had. For example, I'm a writer. I've always been a writer, but I took it for granted. I'm also pretty good at bossing people around. Those two things helped me hold on until I found another full-time job.

4. When your pay suddenly becomes less, you can still make it. You won't have everything you had before, and sometimes you have to juggle the accounts, but when times get tough, you do what you have to do to get by.

5. Being a bitch is sometimes all a woman has to hold onto. I heard that in a movie once and I've never forgotten it. And sisters, sometimes there's no truer words that have ever been said.

So since August, I've been busy rebuilding my life and it's taken me away from blogging for a little while. But now I'm back and I'm feeling badder than ever.

So what is this blog going to hold this year?

I'm inviting writers in to talk about their craft and to offer their ideas on writing and freelancing.

We're going to talk about the news, about the writing industry, and anything else that keeps the conversation going.

It's time for us writers to unite, to join forces and work toward making freelance writing the profitable craft it should be, rather than slave labor for those who just want to fill their websites at a buck an article.

So, let's talk!

Applause, applause

2009-08-18T19:44:00.002-04:00

I've just decided something that is really annoying.
I hate on television shows, when how one of the characters gets popular, the "live studio audience" goes nuts when that person walks through a door.
It happens on every show when it's on for a while. On Seinfeld, it was Kramer. On Friends, Rachel. On Happy Days, Fonzie.
OK, we get it. It's a popular person.
Enough already and back to work.
Just a little annoyance. I have a lot of them.

Welcome to the Village of the Damned

2009-08-02T00:14:00.004-04:00

A long time ago, this woman, Betty Zane, brought gunpowder to the brave fighters of the Revolutionary War. Residents of Martins Ferry celebrate her heroism with carnival rides, elephant ears and beer every August.

This weekend, our little slice of the world is having the Betty Zane Days Festival.

For one weekend every summer, that's when the carnival comes to town, the fire department sets up its beer tent and the townies come out to enjoy a night of high humidity, loud music from bands who never have another gig anywhere else, and everyone fattens their butts up even more on elephant ears, greasy hot sausage sandwiches and the other delicacies that make these events so special.

I haven't gone to this thing in about 17 years. The last time I went, an old girlfriend of my now ex-husband followed me around, shrieking "I know the TRUTH! I know the TRUTH!" It was quite embarassing, especially considering I was pushing my oldest child in a baby carriage and I was very pregnant with my younger child at the time.

What was the truth? I don't know. She was much, much larger than me and I have an odd rule that prohibits me from stopping to chat with crazy people, so I didn't stop to ask her.
I thought it was just better that way.

So I just never went back. I have plenty of greasy food in my house, if I really want to eat that way. There's cold beer in my fridge and I'm not big on carnival rides.

I just avoid that part of town during the first weekend of August, and all's good.

Until this year. My dearest friend of more than 25 years has a new boyfriend this summer.

She's happy...but his job takes him to places such as, you guessed it, Betty Zane Days.

My friend begged me to come along with her while she accompanied him to work. No, I didn't go.
I still don't know why she had to stay there for the duration with him...but I'm not one of those lovey-dovey types anyway. I even hear they bought matching t-shirts for the occasion -- but that's another blog topic altogether.

Now for some reason, she thought that I would be the one to come rescue her from this event. It's Saturday night, and really, I was in my jammies by 8 p.m. and sharing a bowl of cereal with my kitten before midnight.
Real swinging good time!

So the text messages started:
7 p.m.: What are you doing?

7:12 p.m.: Come down here!

7:30 p.m.: Come and get me and we will go do something.

7:34 p.m.: I want 2 pick off little children like a sniper. Help.

7:42 p.m.: Save me!

Then the messages stopped. I thought maybe she'd given up and gone home -- or that she had climbed to the top of the Ferris wheel armed with a rifle and an evil cackle.
Nope.

11:38 p.m. Kill me.

Welcome to Martins Ferry, Ohio, my dear friend. Can't wait until you take in the James Wright Festival.

Oh, bull

2009-07-31T01:09:00.002-04:00

There's a reason why great old movies stay so popular 40, 50, 60 years later.
That's because there is a line in every one of them that gives us a chuckle, shocks us, stuns us or just says what we want to.
The other night, I was watching "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" yet again. I just love that movie in lots of ways.
If you've never seen it, it's a Tennessee Williams epic about the most dysfunctional Southern family you've ever heard of. Paul Newman and Elizabeth Taylor, at the very height of their beauty, play a former football hero and his wife. Newman hates Taylor...oh, it's just very dysfunctional all around.
But the line I like best isn't from them, but from Burl Ives, who plays a character called "Big Daddy.
(OK, how much more southern can you get than THAT?)
And every time Big Daddy is disgusted or irritated, he says BULL.
That's it. Just BULL.
Which, if you think about it, is the greatest word to describe a lot of things.
You see, recently, in my life, I could have used that.
My job circumstances radically changed, with no warning.
It made my teetering between telecommuting and working in a brick and mortar place come crashing down on the side of telecommuting fulltime.
Then a couple of days later, I saw that movie and knew I could have used that word.
BULL.
Isn't it a great word? It says so much without being dirty -- but you know that anyone who hears you saying it is adding a second syllable to it.
You can say it anywhere.
Is your kid lying to you?
BULL.
Has your boss let you go with no warning and no explanation?
BULL.
Has your cell phone company added $200 in charges to your phone, and you can't get hold of an English speaking person to complain?
BULL.
Thank you. I feel better now. And that's no...
BULL.

We don't know nothin' about birthin' babies

2009-07-29T23:59:00.003-04:00

It's the story that never ends. The one that so many criminals dream of happening.
Two police chiefs, arrested and behind bars.
According to local news reports, Martins Ferry Police Chief Barry Carpenter and Bridgeport Police Chief Chad Dojack were booked and put in jail for their alleged involvement in activities surrounding a local woman who rented her womb out to Sarah Jessica Parker and her "husband," Matthew Broderick.
As the rumor and news mill go, Carpenter and Dojack, along with Dojack's relative by marriage to his boss' granddaughter were arrested and charged with various things that nobody is really specifying yet. They're accused of breaking into the surrogate's house and gathering things for some tabloid journalists that met with them and offered them big bucks to do it.
Yep, justice for sale.
I was a reporter for many years in Martins Ferry. I talked to Carpenter frequently for stories and always got along well with him. I reported on Dojack, who was a fired-up young cop under Carpenter and often got himself in trouble for being too gung-ho.
Dojack left soon after marrying the mayor of Bridgeport's granddaughter -- and snagging the police chief's job not long after.
Interesting.
So anyway, these fellows were on the other side of the desk at the jail this time. They got fingerprinted and put on the other side of the cell.
They didn't stay long. Someone posted their bail and they're back out. Nobody's saying if they are keeping their jobs as the top cops -- but really, how can they, at this point? And should they?
Meanwhile, Ms. Parker and her hubby were making news themselves this week. She bought a big house away from her hubby. He's staying in Manhattan, she's moving to Brooklyn. Their story is that she wants a big house to raise her kids in, but he wants to be in Manhattan, close to where he performs on Broadway.
Guess that big salary won't pay for cab fare back and forth to work. I'm pretty sure he doesn't walk to work, anyway.
So after the happy photo op with them, their new babies and their son, about a month later, the real news is coming out.
They stayed together long enough to get their babies, at a reported cost of $30,000, and then to head on to their own lives apart.
Which begs the question. There are two cops' careers in tatters. If they did what they're accused of doing, then they broke the law and they should be punished, just like anyone else.
But morally, are Parker and Broderick any less guilty in all this? What kind of people pretend to be a happy couple long enough to rent a womb and get babies for a great photo op?
The whole thing, every bit of it is just disgusting.
I sure wish those celebrities would have gone to some other small town to get their kids.

Random thoughts, lazy blogger

2009-04-24T23:42:00.002-04:00

God! I haven't been on this one since February. I've done a little more on ohiowriter4hire.blogspot.com.
So it's time to catch up.
It's Friday night and I'm home alone with two dogs, three cats and a South Park marathon playing in the background. Is it as sad as it sounds? Probably so.
So I'm in the middle of exchanging a strange conversation with my friend and former college English professor, Rich McKee, who is probably one of the brainiest people I've ever met...and really funny too.
He lives in Florida and made the mistake of referencing the "skunk ape" on a Facebook posting. Of course, I had to ask what the skunk ape is.
Seems different parts of the country have different versions of Bigfoot. In Florida, it's the Skunk Ape. Here in Ohio, it's the Grassman. (you'd think the Grassman would be in Florida.)
Rich said of the Grassman: "I've heard a little about Grassman, but I suspected it was some legendary drug dealer from Mingo Junction."
See why I find him so funny?
So that led me to tell him something that popped into my mind one day while I was driving home from Cadiz.
Cadiz, Ohio is directly in the middle of nothing. Hillsides one way, reclaimed coal mines the other, and you have to drive on winding roads through lots of trees to get anywhere. The wild deer and turkeys play kamakaze with moving vehicles.
And one evening, as I was driving home, this random thought popped into my mind:
What if Bigfoot jumped in front of my car right now?
Of course, I'm a writer and overall creative person, and another random thought popped into my mind.
Bigfoot standing in the road, going ROOOOARRRRR!
And I started laughing. And I laughed all the way home. I'm laughing now as I type this.
Sometimes I think I may be completely deranged.

So if you have random thoughts that pop into your mind that worry you or scare you, or even make you laugh like a loon, does that mean you have serious problems?
Here's some of the thoughts that I often think:
1. Why are the lyrics to the banana phone song so freaking catchy? Is it a plot to make us buy bananas or phones? Ring ring ring ring ring ring banana phone...
2. What color is my hair, really? Ok, I color it a lot, like once a month, and I highlight it. So what color would it be if I didn't do all that?
3. Once I went out in my yard and a giant ball mushroom was growing. I pulled it out and then it grew again. So now every time it rains I think I'm going to find a mushroom. What if it wasn't a mushroom at all?
4. Why does every woman in Self magazine have on a bikini? It's a magazine for women. That's not MY self, no matter who I sell my soul to.
5. Is it weird to think Hugh Jackman is even hotter when his claws are out when he's being Wolverine?
6. What are my cats really thinking? Are they plotting?

I'd write more, but the South Park episode with the giant guinea pigs is on, and I'm sure I'll obsess over it too, when I quit laughing.

Organized crime, aisle three

2009-02-18T21:43:00.002-05:00

We're all cutting back these days. We're doing without new clothes, new electronic gadgets, new everything.
What we can't do without is NEW FOOD.
I don't know why they don't just point a gun at you when you walk in the store and just take your money.That's how bad it's getting to go grocery shopping.
Where I live, everyone goes to the local Kroger's if they're in a hurry.
Yeah, Kroger's had some good sales. Milk was $1.99; big boxes of name-brand cereal, $2.99.
Then we get to the rip off part.
It's not Kroger's fault that the manufacturers rip us off.
When did a case of Coca Cola have 20 cans, not 24? And why does Kroger's still charge us as much for the 20 pack that they did for the 24 pack?
Then you come to ice cream. There's no such thing as a half gallon of ice cream anymore. You now get one and one half quarts, not two.
And it's still the same price.
Then meander over to produce. Yeah, 97 cents a pound for grapes is pretty good. $2.99 a pound for peaches is NOT GOOD.
Then just keep looking around. You're paying a lot more for a lot smaller packaging.
Should a can of peas cost almost a dollar? No way.
Kroger's isn't the only store involved in the great American rip-off.
Do you have a dog? Did you go to Wal-Mart before for the dog food.
Well, the price for a big bag has raised. It used to be about 7.50 for a 20 pound bag.
Now it's $10 for a 17.5 pound bag.
Somehow my smiley face isn't looking so happy anymore.

Great movies!

2009-02-14T23:06:00.003-05:00

From "Slumdog Millionaire"

Now I've seen two movies that have more than made up for the dismal "Rachel Getting Married."
(I almost hate to mention THAT in connection with the two really great ones I've seen since then.)
The first one was "Gran Turino."
Clint Eastwood is an old, retired auto worker in Detroit, whose neighborhood is being overtaken by Asian families.
His reactions are priceless, and he's the most bigoted character on screen since Archie Bunker.
However, by the end of the movie, Clint is part of your mind. This movie will haunt your mind.
And he should have been nominated for at least ONE Academy Award. His acting was perfection in this movie.
And then there's the second movie I've seen, "Slumdog Millionaire."
Set in India, this movie is about a "slumdog," or child who grows up in the slums of Bombay, India.
Somehow, he rises to the top as a contestant on Who Wants to be a Millionaire. He's one question away of becoming a millionaire, when he's ordered to be arrested and tortured because he's accused of cheating.
And through a series of flashbacks, we watch the events that shaped this young man's life.
I want to see this movie again, before it's off the big screen forever.
I've never seen a movie like this. I can't even describe how beautifully it was filmed.
A lovely, classic film with characters we fall in love with.
When was the last time we've had something like this?
This movie deserves each and every award it's nominated for.
And yes, I cried at the end of it. And sometimes during it, just because of its sheer beauty.
I love movies that involve me that much.

Warning! Warning!

2009-02-07T00:09:00.002-05:00

I saw 30 minutes of the worst movie I have ever seen tonight, and I have a new mission in life.

DO NOT SEE 'RACHEL GETTING MARRIED.'

This movie is about this dysfunctional family whose daughter has come home from rehab just in time for her sister's marriage.

The daughter from rehab is played by Anne Hathaway. Normally, I love her.

Not anymore, at least in this movie.

The family is a bunch of very pseudo intellectuals, and her sister is marrying some guy.

They have a rehearsal dinner that goes on and on. There is an open mike. People play saxaphones, badly. They sing, badly.

Then the toasts start.

It's all filmed with one of those shaky cameras.

I thought the movie was almost half over when I finally got fed up. The movie was only 30 minutes gone.

And so was I.

Dear God. Never, ever believe the critics. They are stupid.

Get a life!

2009-02-05T07:24:00.002-05:00

Is that the most overused, annoying phrases in the world, or what?
Get a life.
What the heck does it even mean anyway? I have a life and I enjoy my life very much, thank you.
I do a lot in my life. I blog and work every day out in the community.
I have two teenaged children, one in high school and one in college. I have two dogs, two cats, a house and yard of my own and a car I love.
I'm a divorced woman and still single by choice, not necessity.

I just don't understand that phrase...get a life.

It's usually uttered by someone when they don't agree with your point of view. For example, the other day I posted on a newspaper comment section, when an editor wrote about allowing her two-year-old to hit the debit card numbers in the grocery store, that being behind that writer and her daughter would be very annoying.

And it would be. Can you imagine? You're just there, wanting to pay for your loaf of bread and maybe some bologna, and there's someone with a kid up there.

"Hit the TWO honey. The TWO. Now the THREE. No, that's not the THREE, that's the FOUR. This is the THREE. No, honey, you hit the SEVEN...."

Oh, God.

So of course, someone promptly came on and told me to to "get a life."

I have a life, and part of it should not be having to wait for some over-indulgent mom, who thinks her kid is the most precious in the whole world, to learn her numbers while everyone else has to wait.

But isn't it funny, when people just don't know how else to insult you, they just tell you to "get a life."

Maybe they should just get a vocabulary.

Bruce, say it isn't so!

2009-02-02T21:35:00.004-05:00

Once upon a time, I lived in Atlantic City, NJ.

Okay, it was in 1988. Yes, 21 years ago...and that makes me...oh, God, about older than dirt.

Anyway, I worked at the then-Bally's Grande Hotel and Casino as a room reservations clerk. Sometimes I came out to the front desk and helped there too.

And one day, there he was. Larger than life. Well, not that large. It was BRUCE.

The girl and I working were so tongue-tied, we couldn't even speak. It was BRUCE, last 80s, New Jersey.

It was like having Elvis stop and talk to you. He was hotter than hot, and yeah, I've bored a lot of people with that story over the years.

Now we're going to fast forward those 21 years, up to Super Bowl Sunday. Until HE was to take the stage for a glorious 12 minutes of looking back.

And suddenly, there he was.

It's not that Bruce got older. Heck, we all have. But where, oh where did his dignity go?

You're Bruce Springsteen, man. You don't have to start a show with a back bend that leaves us wondering if you're going to get up.

You don't have to slide balls-first into a camera angle. And try as you might with those skin-tight jeans and vest...we can still see that spare tire. We can tell at 59 years old, your hair isn't naturally that black.

But that's okay. You're a legend.

But why did you try to sell yourself so hard? Watching you and Steven Van Zandt posturing and gyrating, and watching the antics of your band, was uncomfortably like going to a bar and watching the guys in an over-the-hill bar band down in some dive down off the Boardwalk, trying to recall their own "Glory Days."

Twelve minutes. Twelve short minutes to watch you sell out again. First you sell out to Wal-Mart, then you sell out to the rest of the world.

And we all watched you jump the shark. And as you're feeling the pain in your back and in your knees today from that workout you gave them, you know you jumped that shark too.

Guilty TV Pleasures

2009-01-31T23:24:00.006-05:00

Okay, this "Guy" is one of my guilty pleasures. I LOVE Diners and Dives...and why do I find Guy Fieri so cute, anyway? Is it because he cooks? Because he eats like a real guy? Watching his show really is a guilty pleasure.

It's winter and it's cold outside, and sometimes you just don't want to leave the couch.
But really, if you're planting yourself there, you have to find something to do and something great to watch.

A lot of people don't like to waste their TV time watching shows that aren't uplifting and informational in some ways. That's not me! I just want to be entertained.

So I was wondering, if anyone reads this, what are your top 10 guilty TV pleasures? Here's mine, and why.

10. The Soup. I don't have time to watch every television show, but that funny little guy on the E! network keeps me up to date. Yeah, it makes me laugh every time.

9. Will and Grace reruns. I didn't get to see a lot of these because I was either working night shifts or going to meetings when they were on TV originally. Will and Grace have a great chemistry, but Karen Walker steals the show, every show.

8. Animal Cops on Animal Planet. I can't believe people are so cruel to animals and I get mad every time, but I still watch it.

7. Dives and Diners, Food Network. That's the show where they go to diners across America. The host, Guy Fieri, has three shows on Food Network after he won as The Next Food Network Star. Can he BE any cuter???

6. Clean House, BBC America. These maid ladies go to people's very incredibly dirty houses and clean them and teach the people how to clean. Since most of the time my house looks like a crack house, watching this show makes me feel much, much better. And I've gotten some pretty great tips too!

5. The Girls Next Door, E! Network. Everyone's heard of this one. The three girlfriends of Hugh Hefner live in the mansion and get in all kinds of shenanigans. Ordinarily, I'd be kind of jealous of these girls, but they really are cute and funny and the show is good.

4. Big Love, HBO. Who knew a show about Mormon polygamists could be so damned entertaining. This harkens back to the prime time soaps we all grew up with..but with much better acting. This show should win more Emmys.

3. Chelsea Lately, E! Network. She is so funny and irreverent, and her panel is usually hysterical. I think it would be fun to get drunk with her.

2. Sex and the City reruns, various channels. Okay, so I saw all these when they were uncut and on HBO. I saw them all several times, when they were uncut and on HBO. They are horribly cut up and much of them are missing on TBS, but I still watch them. They're not as good that way, but they're still there. Funny enough, I hated the movie.

1. Tah da! Okay..this is kind of a cheat. It's not a show, it's a network. TV Land. I love seeing all those old sitcoms I loved as a kid. One Day at a Time, Sanford and Son, The Jeffersons. Corny, outdated...but it's escapism of the silliest kind.

Okay, there's my top 10? What's yours?

Pirates Caravan

2009-01-31T01:45:00.004-05:00

Normally I don't get into writing about sports.
However, I just have to say -- if the Pirates Caravan comes to town, and nobody notices, did they really leave Pittsburgh?
This past week, the Pirates bus was parked in front of Wheeling Island Racetrack and Casino, while a few of the Pirates, the parrot and other various people were inside in a room, where people could stop by and meet them.
I saw the bus while I was walking in to meet a friend, so we could throw a couple of $20s in the machine. Stupid habit, I know...but I also know I won $180 that night...
OK, I digress. I'm still excited, I guess.
Well, anyway, I did look back in that room to see if there were people meeting the Pirates.
There really weren't very many.
There may have been many reasons people weren't there. It was a cold night. Also, the visit was at a casino, a place where a lot of parents would never bring their kids.
However, I think there's another reason there weren't many there -- the Pirates have become such an embarrassment that nobody really cares anymore.
I hate to talk this way about the Pirates. After all, I remember the days of Roberto Clemente and how sad I was when he died. I remember cheering when "Chicken on the Hill" Willie Stargell would slam another one out of the park.
Sadly, the Pirates of those days are gone. They're replaced by a team of second-stringers, guys who will work more cheaply than anyone else in the league.
The World Series-winning Pirates of the past have been replaced, for the past 16 or so years, by teams who just can't bring home a winning season.
Unfortunately, when the Nutting family bought the Pirates, they installed the same means of management into that team that they keep their newspaper employees under.
That strategy is to get people who will work cheap, pay them low wages until they get fed up and quit, and then replace them with other people who will work cheaply. That is, if you replace them at all.
Well, that strategy is hurting area newspapers and it hurts the Pirates, too.
You have to spend money to attract real talent, no matter what business you are in. If you don't want to spend the money, your endeavor ends up being a dismal failure.
The Pirates have the most beautiful baseball field in the nation.
However, it's a field with a team that just can't live up to its legend anymore.
Is it too much to ask that Pittsburgh's baseball team be as successful as its football and hockey teams?
It's just sad.

Another Auld Lang Syne

2008-12-29T22:54:00.005-05:00

I took this picture last summer in Smithfield, Ohio, while working for a local newspaper. Barack Obama was making a run through during his campaign, and I had a great time that day on the scaffolding with the professionals. I knew as soon as I heard him speak that he would be president. This is definitely something to tell the grandkids about someday when they come along.

Auld Lang Syne.
What the hell does that even mean, anyway? Auld Lang Syne?
Okay, I know, what it is. It's a Scottish song celebrating friendships and all that happy stuff.
I think it's more one of those songs that nobody can sing anyway, and especially while they're drunk.
As for me? 2008 has been a huge year of change.
On the dark side:
1. Changed jobs and discovered that there really IS a place worse than East Liverpool, Ohio. It's called Cadiz, Ohio. At least stuff happens in East Liverpool. Nothing much happens in Cadiz. I'm not a country girl, and I learn that more every single day.
2. Realized I'm in my mid 40s for real. I usually don't mind. Sometimes I do.
3. Spent a week in the hospital for ignoring my health. Pain means you need to see a doctor. Intense pain means go now. Kidney stones are bad enough, but when you have to be held at the hospital and fed intravenous antibiotics because you've compounded it with a raging e-coli infection and blood poisoning....Jesus. Why do I do that stuff to myself?
On the brighter side:
1. I changed jobs. It was a good thing as well. I was working 14 hours a day every day in East Liverpool, and I blame that for my horrible health problems. I was worn out. I'm working 8 hours a day now, and honestly, of that 8 hours I'd say I work maybe 4. Again, nothing happens in Cadiz.
2. I started painting my kitchen cabinets white. The ones I have done look very nice. However, it's taking way too long to do, but really, who cares but me anyway?
3. I now have a new kitten. Her name is Sam and she's impossibly rotten, but doggone it, a house isn't a home without pets in it. Wilma hates her, the dogs tolerate her and I love her. I'd better, I'm sure she'll be here when I'm an old lady.
4. I got to see, up close, Barack Obama. I wish I could have talked to the man who would one day be our first black president...but taking photos and hearing him speak was great. I'll be telling my grandkids about it.
5. I've learned to laugh more, yell if I want to, say no if I don't want to do something, and that if I want to sing really loudly to the disco music on the oldies station, screw it, it's my car. I'll do whatever I want to.
Resolutions? Yeah, I have some.
1. Like everyone else, I want to lose weight. I'm too freaking fat. How did I get this way? This body isn't mine? I want to be a size 10 again and wear skinny jeans and have guys whistle at my butt. Plus I have arthritis in my knees and I don't want to be a cripple.
2. I'm joining a gym. I have the money and I have the time and why not?
3. I'm working on a freelance writing career. I know, deep down, I'm way underemployed with my job skills. It's not all about the money; my brain is atrophying. It's time for me to be smart again. By Jan. 1, 2010, I will be completely working out of my own home office, with its view of the river.
4. I need to invest a little bit of money. At least 10 percent of my monthly pay. Or 5 percent.
5. Gambling is fun. Putting the money all back in the machines is not. Keep half the winnings, lady!
6. Finally, I need to find more time to do the things I like to do.

This Auld Lang Syne thing is tough.

Funny...

2008-12-06T17:56:00.001-05:00

A speeding truck rammed a woman’s sedan at over 100 MPH on a Texas
freeway last Friday. Why? According to the Archangel Gabriel/ Michael
E. Schwab, a resident of Blooming Grove, Texas, the woman "was not
driving like a Christian.”

http://jalopnik.com/5101888/man-rams-womans-car-at-100-mph-claims-god-told-him-to-do-it

Well, I don't know if God would ever tell me to run someone off the road, but there are many days I wish for some divine intervention. I drive for 40 minutes to my job, and it's all out in the country, and wouldn't you know it! Almost every day, some yahoo in a pick up truck pulls out in front of me, and just drives really, really slowly.
And there's nobody behind me for miles!
So when God tells me to go ahead and ram these people from behind, by golly, I'm listening!

This site is amazing

2008-11-30T08:52:00.000-05:00

This is one of my new favorite websites. This artist is really amazing, and is a journalist who tells her stories not only through writing, but with her portraits. Her political cartoons are also wonderful! I

writeinmyjournal.com

2008-09-21T01:00:00.003-04:00

This is a cool website. Guy gets random people to write in his journal. I love this site. It's all kinds of wonderful!

http://www.writeinmyjournal.com/

Japanese game shows!

2008-09-01T08:57:00.001-04:00

YouTube - Human Tetris

This is currently my favorite video. Heck with Deal or No Deal, this is entertainment.

Meet my hospital roommate!

2008-07-18T11:19:00.000-04:00

Adventures in hotel stays

2008-07-14T21:43:00.001-04:00

My best friend Tracy is a teacher, and she is away at a teachers' grading event (she does this kind of thing a lot.) She has had a very interesting first night stay at the local hotel, and sent me this email. It made me laugh so much that I had to post it, but I'll take it down if she is too embarassed!

“But I’m sure I asked for a roommate.” Damnit, recession in, upgrades out.
The West Virginia Center for Professional Development invites its high school teachers to room with a complete stranger, but a teacher nevertheless, as they study the latest ways to get teenagers interested in reading novels and then talking about them with their friends in class. My roommate for this venture, according to the Microtel clerk who looks just like one of the girls whose interest I’ll try to capture, doesn’t exist. In fact, my name doesn’t exist. On the built-in laptop into which she’s punching letters, and then waiting, as I try not to stare at her.
“Moss – KOE?”
“No, Moss – KAH. “ I recite the spelling of my husband’s Italian surname yet again. I am strangely calm. After all it’s only nine-thirty, and the hotel seems nice enough. The route mapquested by the man I’ll call Mr. Mosca began as a quaint, 40-mile-per-hour wind through little towns like Rock Lick and Peat. I hate the interstate, after all. Route 20 after a few miles brings to mind the simple, country life: starkly green, newly-mowed acreage surrounding white clapboard houses with those big, red aluminum stars decorating their faces, a few broken down mid-size cars with the hoods up. Down over a steep embankment, a dirt lane leading to two shack-size wooden cabins with bright blue tarps pulled tight and secured across the rooftops. A baby rabbit flopping down a country driveway of dirt and half-buried river rock, its back feet thrusting it, not so nervously, out of sight. Thirty minutes later some dated industrial buildings, abandoned; it’s hard to tell in the light of a Sunday night if men will still arrive there on a Monday morning. The fading light, fast fading. Lovely Route 20 now not so quaint, but rather never-ending. Did I miss the turn back there, where that pick-up’s lights shone out from a slightly larger intersection than I’d seen? And, finally, tall smoke stacks, smoking that indicate I’m just about there. Beautiful Bridgeport, West Virginia.
“Oh, here you are.”
I’d better be.
“But it says you’re not expected to check in until tomorrow.”
I had this one covered. Why am I still unscathed by these little snags? “No, I called on Friday and they said I was due to check in on the 13th. Today, right?”
It was time for a man to step in on this one. This man, a Microtel assistant, also looking strangely like one of my lanky-haired students. “Who did you talk to?”
“A man.”
He gives me one of those read-between-the-lines looks.
I quickly add, “It was Friday morning, and it was a young man.”
The two Micro-students exchange brief looks of the previous description.
No more is said about the check-in date. Yes, I am an organized teacher, and the customer is always right, kids.
“Okay, we have you in a single.” And this is where the roommate part comes in.
“I’m sure I asked for a roommate.”
The Micro-man, “We don’t have a roommate for you.”
The tired, supposed-to-be-relaxing-in-the-summer teacher, “Does that mean I’ll have to pay for half the room? I’m sure I asked for a roommate.”
They give me a card key for a single room, just for the night, with the unwritten promise to get it checked in the morning.
Ahhhh. Finally.
I slide the key into the slot, push the heavy door open with my bags, and walk into an occupied room. Ahhhh! Not occupied at the moment mind you. But the lights are blazing, the bed has clearly been recently occupied, and there’s an open can of Coke and a chocolate donut close by on the nightstand. The bathroom light is also on, but the door is open and I see no other signs of life. Still, someone could walk in any moment, this is a used hotel room. How many times in life does one walk into a used, brightly lit hotel room at night? Even the maid waits til morning. I felt like I’d just walked in on sex or something. Feeling indecent, I opened the door into the hallway, the indecent feeling turning to giggles and smirks as I imagined the response from the Micro-kids at the front desk.
“Uh, my room seems to be occupied.” Little did I know of the irony in this statement.
Oh me, oh my. We must fix this, says Thing One to Thing Two. Swish, swish. Tap, tap.
“OK, we’re going to give you a suite just for tonight, and you won’t have to pay anything.” Says the much-more-competent male. “But we’ll probably have to move you in the morning.”

The suite is sweet. Microwave, fridge, sofa, small center island with cabinets and a sink. I feel pretty vindicated as I plump and and crash down on my three pillows.

I have six pillows the next night. But not without more ruckus: enter Thing Three, stage center.
Let me interrupt here to issue a disclaimer: the hotel, its employees, and the WVCPD people all are very nice and helpful, and my intent in this tale is to highlight the humor involved without reflecting negatively on any one person or entity. It’s just most effective to deliver the incidents surrounding these events with a tongue-in-cheek tone.
Eight pieces of fried chicken, a large frozen tub of Stouffer’s Macaroni and Cheese, Great Value rippled potato chips, Helluvagood dip (the Bacon and Horseradish kind), one half-quart of lowfat cottage cheese, a quart of Kozy Shack tapioca pudding, an eight-pack (97 cents!) of Reese’s Cups, and a six-pack of Sunkist Diet Orange soda. The things I carried on the second day, into my Microtel haven. I have a microwave, after all, and I can just eat my dinners here and save a few bucks. Mr. Mosca would be proud. I was sure I’d still have the great room: earlier, upon reporting to the Lodging desk at 8 am for the first day of my teacher training, I had explained my dilemma to the guru of WVCPD. I always remember her face but not her name. Quite professionally, she quelled my quivering.
“”Yes, you did request a roommate.” She assured me she would take care of the problem of my moving yet again to another room at the end of the day. In fact, I was pleased when she told me this:
“If you are pleased with your current room, we’ll just keep you there at no charge to you. You won’t have to move at all.”
Sweet, a suite and no roommate. I knew there was a reason I hadn’t gotten upset.
After loading myself down with plastic Walmart bags, my laptop, and the big guacamole green WVCPD tote always given out at these things and containing handouts, books, etc., I headed back up to my suite. The familiar card key slot. Wait, it’s now reading red. Try again. Nope, red. Red. Yep, it’s definitely red.
Back down, bags in tow, to Thing Three at the front desk.
“Uh, my card key needs to be redone; it’s not working.”
Zip. Swipe. There you go.
Can you see what’s coming?
Yay! The card key reads green, and I fling open the door in relief.
Two steps into the room and the third is frozen, as I spy a naked torso under my covers, turned toward the window. Alone, apparently asleep. Not stirring. Thank god. Oh MY god.
This is a bit worse than the brightly lit, empty room of last night.
I make some sort of noise referring to a higher being and quickly make my exit, thinking “My suitcase is still IN there, ewww!” The being in my bed seemed undaunted, but I can’t say what happened when I let the door slam shut. I hurried to the elevator, thinking he would burst from my room at any moment with a what-the-hell? attitude.
Thing Three disappears into the back office for several minutes when I deliver my latest complaint, panic attack in check.
I’ve neglected to mention the maintenance man, ball cap and a slight southern drawl, F-250 pick-up just outside the front lobby door, his muddy four-wheeler in tow on a flatbed hitched to the back. We first met as I checked in on that fateful first night. He stood outside, finishing a cigarette as I dragged up to the front doors, trying not to drag. I open the first set of doors as he was entering and started to open the second.
“Other door,” he said, voice low but confident.
The left door apparently is always locked. I grabbed the right door handle and mumbled thanks.
“This place is home to me,” explained the parking space hog maintenance man. Yep, that’s the information I’m lookin’ for at nine-thirty p.m. down in Podunk.
During both sets of my check-ins this man seemed to be around. Awfully chatty, and of course he heard the my tales of woe, step by step. Add stupid jokes and suggestions from the Micro-maintenance to the mix.
“I think they should knock a few night off the bill, that’s the least they could do.”
And “Did you evict him?” in reference to the mystery body in what had been my bed.
Finally, Thing Three emerged a bit anxious-looking, and I was smiling at laughing at the reaction I’d gotten from the various people standing around the lobby.
“We’re going to give you a double and we’ll bring up a refrigerator.”
I told her it was okay. Actually, I still felt pretty good. I could use the microwave in the lobby. I’d had the most interesting check-in experience of my hotel-using career.
“We’re really sorry this happened, and it shouldn’t have because it makes us look bad.”
I’ve taken all the pillows from Bed One and transferred them to Bed Two. Six pillows. Nice. I’ve eaten some chicken and sank bank into my pillows, flipping on the TV and settling on Discovery’s Most Extreme Jobs. It makes me feel even more at home; it’s what Mr. Mosca would watch if he were here. The things I carried stored safely away, I’m ready to tackle the week. But first, I had tell this story.
The word roommate has had unusual significance lately. Mr. Mosca and I have been practicing a role-playing thing in order to relate to one another with more respect and courtesy and fewer expectations and emotional demands. We decided to treat each other as if we were roommates. It’s working quite well.
My anticipated teacher roommate does not exist. A week alone with two beds, four towels, six pillows, home conveniences, and the power of the remote is a very underrated substitute.
And the mysterious roommates I nearly met in these haphazard and hysterical circumstances are blissfully unaware of our pseudo-relationship.
Microtel has a new fan.

Have you heard the one about the vice-president and his lesbian daughter?

2008-06-02T23:25:00.002-04:00

Cheney tells West Virginia joke - Yahoo! News

Oh, there's a big man. Repeating some old stale joke about West Virginians, and then offering some lame apology.
Little does he know this fact...West Virginians are a proud people. We're not just proud, we're not stupid.

Here's what he said:

"Talking about his family roots and how he's distantly related to Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama, the vice president noted that he had Cheneys on both sides of his family.

"And we don't even live in West Virginia," Cheney quipped.

"You can say those things when you're not running for re-election."

Well, listen here, you pompous jerk. West Virginians don't care if you're running for election or not. You're a warmongering, loudmouthed idiot who never should have been the vice-president. And if anyone is claiming to be your relative, then the stupidity must run in your genetic pool.

And I'm sure West Virginians can come back with a lesbian joke or two about Cheney's daughter.

An apology is not enough. Manchin's right, a vice-president should never, ever make a derogatory joke about the people of any state.

He should be officially sanctioned for this statement and reprimanded.

After all, the biggest idiot in the country today, I believe, came from Texas.

The Wheeling Tunnel

2008-05-20T19:30:00.001-04:00

Tunnel work to resume | Times Leader

What the hell? I'm afraid already to drive through the stupid Wheeling Tunnel, and they're going to mess it up even more? The same people who screwed it up already?
Every time I drive through there I hold my breath in fear that it's coming down on me...what's next?
And West Virginia wonders why we people who live in Ohio make fun of them. When someone screws up a project, you sue the hell out of them and get someone else to finish the work. You don't invite them back to screw it up a little bit more.
Absolute idiocy.

2008-05-19T19:52:00.005-04:00

Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue...

I shot this pretty fast with my cell phone camera while standing on my front porch the other night. It was much prettier in person! But I thought it was kind of cool all the same!

Yes, that is a bulldozer down in the bottom part of the photo. Ordinarily that would annoy me but this is a GOOD bulldozer. They tore down the god awful house across the street from me, opening my view of the Ohio River (and pretty rainbows) completely up.

Sometimes my little corner of Eastern Ohio is pretty freaking cool. Especially from my front porch swing!

And there's nothing like a pretty rainbow to put everything that's crappy in life into a much better perspective.

Cool, cool, cool!

2008-05-18T21:54:00.001-04:00

Madonna

2008-05-18T21:48:00.003-04:00

In case you can't tell from my playlist, I have weird tastes in music. From Madonna to Queen to Space Ghost and Brak.

Nobody has commented on my blog in ages. I think it's the playlist. I will keep telling myself that, anyway.

There was a beautiful rainbow over Martins Ferry today. I wish I'd found the end of it; I need to buy gas tomorrow.

Time to clean up the living room.

P.S. Don't eat that frozen Chinese food in the fancy little boxes they sell at Walmart. It's pretty disgusting. I figured that out after two bites.

Cracking down on Martins Ferry, OH

2008-05-16T23:00:00.001-04:00

Officials get tough in Ferry | Times Leader

I find this story in the Times Leader today quite interesting, since I live in Martins Ferry and I know most of the players behind the draconian new laws.
Councilman Paul Riethmiller is the self-appointed moral voice of Martins Ferry. I first came into contact with him when he was trying to get Marilyn Manson banned from playing at the Civic Center.
In today's TL story, he's complaining that people are sitting on monuments and riding their bikes and skateboards.
Well, if they hadn't closed the skate ramp at the city park, kids wouldn't be at the cemetery doing it. Just a thought.
Of course, since the first of the year, there has been a tremendous crack down in town concerning littering, parking against traffic and having only three cans, with your address painted on them, for your trash.
I'm more concerned about the people who come in out of state and drive down my street, rap music blaring, on their way to the housing projects to distribute their supplies, than I am about gum wrappers on the streets.
I'm also more concerned about the foot-deep pothole in front of my house that hasn't been fixed properly in years, and the huge water leak that sends water down our street, even when it's not raining.
I'm also concerned about the water plant .You see, we're still paying an exorbitant amount for our water, but the plant isn't even working correctly. The water softeners are broken and the purification process that promised us clean, clear water is on the fritz.
I'm also worried about our income tax money. Where IS all that money going, anyway?

I feel guilty when I fake hoarseness....but...

2008-03-03T20:22:00.001-05:00

I found this story very funny! Yes, there are days I wish I had the nerve to do this, too!

Police: Man gets shot to avoid work - Yahoo! News

Cool shopping websites

2008-01-05T12:09:00.001-05:00

One of my friends asked me the other day what some cool shopping sites online are. Here are my favorites:

1. www. ebay.com
Just watch what you buy and who you buy it from.

2. www.amazon.com
I bought most of our Christmas presents there. After the first $25, shipping is free and everything came fast!

3. www.half.com
You can find movies really cheaply there.

4. www.deviantart.com
There is some way cool artwork on this site!

5. www.armynavydeals.com
I haven't bought anything there yet but the military surplus stuff is cool and way cheap. Plus they have free shipping! I have my eye on a used World War II British rucksack. Weird...but cool! They won't let me copy and paste the picture but here's the website: http://www.armynavydeals.com/asp/products_details.asp?SKU=Britww2havbagU&ST=2

6. www.sears.com
I only buy stuff when it's on sale there. But if you pick it up at the store, you don't pay shipping. I bought a cordless power screwdriver/drill there for $10, down from $55. Yes, I like power tools. AND men, in case anyone thinks I've suddenly flipped.

Hey, out there in blog land? Anyone have any shopping ideas for me?

Amazing Flying Monkey

2007-12-07T08:52:00.000-05:00

I am going to hear this thing screaming in my sleep. This is what I get for actually reading the email in my bulk folder. So naturally, I had to send it on to everyone I know.
https://www.factorydirectdeals.com/holidayspecial/index.php?pid=32&aid=1002&subid=6678

Do people really need screaming flying monkeys?

Of course, now that I sent it out to people, they may think I want one for Christmas, so I'll probably end up with 10 of them.

2007-11-11T09:20:00.000-05:00

I paid $3.14 a gallon for gas Saturday. I drive a Cavalier and I got a half-tank of gas for $20. I drive 100 miles a day for work and it's costing me about $12 a day just to get to work. I'm about ready to steal gas.

Cookies! Lots of cookies!

2007-11-10T23:35:00.000-05:00

Where do the 40 year olds go?

2007-11-04T19:21:00.000-05:00

Okay, it happened again Saturday night. Went out with one of my friends for a night of beer, music, gambling and altogether fun.

We live in the Wheeling, West Virginia area, and granted, there are very few hotspots anyway.

However, we can't seem to find the ones that are out there. We don't want to hang out with the 20 somethings, but we don't want to be with the retirees, either.

It was sad. We went to one little neighborhood bar, then we went to a place that had a band. They were terrible and the crowd, what there was of it, was icky.

We got DiCarlo's Pizza and we were home before midnight.

Food recalls

2007-11-02T00:05:00.000-04:00

Okay, I should know better than to buy Totino's Party Pizza. I know it's not that good...but for a buck...hey, you've gotta try it, right?

Not now. When I got home and went online, I found out that it had been recalled. I had to take that perfectly new (notice I didn't say GOOD) pizza out and throw it in the garbage. I'm sending in the UPC code so they'll send me another coupon...

But you can add it to the long list of things that will give you a disease. In this case it's e-coli. Not to be confused with e-bola. However, eventually, both can give you a case of the blood-leaking shits.

I think there were a lot more of these contaminations in the old days too. People just said their stomachs hurt.

Speaking of contamination, I was at the local Convenient picking up some chicken tonight (hey, I threw away the diseased pizza, after all) and the girl getting my chicken dropped a piece of it right into the kilbasa and sauerkraut..and was ready to use her same tongs to fish it back out until I told her not to do it...Nothing like a little bit of cross-contaminated food to perk you right back up.

It's enough to make you want to go back to the days of hippie communes. At least there you'd get laid on a regular basis.

Fortune cookie fortunes

2007-10-31T12:15:00.001-04:00

Fortune cookie fortunes are getting stupider and stupider.

I got two cookies today with my lunch. The first fortune was:

"Never Chase a Dog Into a Dead-End Alley."

The other one was:

"A fine is a tax for doing wrong. A tax is a fine for doing well."

You can't even add the words "to bed" to those and have them make any sense. Especially the second one.

Oh, well, at least my food was good.

2007-10-30T21:18:00.000-04:00

Some days, you just have to say...GO WARRIORS!

2007-10-28T21:57:00.001-04:00

Okay, so I've created a blog!

What does that mean exactly? Heck, I don't know.

Does it mean total strangers will come online to tell me what an idiot I am?

Can I say random things on here? Yeah! Cool!

So, let me tell you what I did today. I went to The Alpha in Wheeling with my best friends in the world, Lisa and Tracy. We ate an obscene amount of appetizers like wings, guacamole and chips. Tracy won a bundle of money gambling. Okay $28. A bundle to the rest of us losers, though.

Then Lisa had to go watch flag football (who says her life isn't glamorous and exciting!) and Tracy and I went to Goodwill. (Ok, contain your jealousy.)

Then I came home.

Whoop-de-freaking do.

Is this what bloggers do all day? I sure hope someone comes on here and blogs with me before blogspot.com kicks me offf for terminal boredom.

The word blog does sound vaguely obscene, doesn't it?

Oh, yeah, and I left my cell phone at work...and I'm on vacation this week. Good thing nobody really calls me on it or we would have a problem.

I'll add something funny or cool here in a minute from youtube.com.

I have to admit, this IS kind of fun, this randomness.