Last year when Kevin Underwood murdered little Jamie Rose Bolin I stayed up half the night reading his blog.  I was completely captivated with the seemingly normal existence of this young fast food worker turned psychotic killer. All anyone had to do was put his name in a search engine and you could find his fingerprints all over the web. Since then, every time there's a high profile murder, I do a bit of web-sleuthing to see what I can pull up about the victim or the suspect. Nine times out of ten, there's something out there. That's another aspect of our culture that the world wide web has completely revolutionized. We now have the opportunity in many cases to see the human side of people before they are overcome with evil or insanity or whatever it is that makes people kill people.

Today, I spent a good hour reading the MySpace blogs & other postings of Tess Damm and Bryan Grove, the two teens recently arrested for murdering Tess's mother and carrying her around in the trunk of a car for the past month. I don't know why I find this stuff so interesting, but I'm definitely not alone in my morbid curiosity. There is no shortage of blogs devoted to this sort of thing. (The True Crime Blog is my personal favorite.)  Lately, there has been a lot of fodder for them, too. Hardly a day goes by that you don't hear of another bizarre murder case. The Tara Grant murder was a really hard one to swallow for me. She's the mother of two & career woman who was murdered and dismembered by her husband. It's one thing to snap and murder someone, but he chopped her up and kept her torso in his garage.

There's even a story coming from my old hometown, which rarely ever has even a manslaughter case. A woman has been missing for several weeks, and the authorities were recently digging up her ex boyfriend's property where they believe he may have buried her. It's just absolute lunacy.

So anyway... I was going to do this big long involved post about crime and try to be all Patricia Cornwall, but I'm over it. I'm going to bed. If nothing else, there are some interesting links here, and also something for the crime blogs if I ever end up on either side of the equation.

So I quit my job and moved to a new city. I'm now living in Knoxville, which is about 60 miles from the area in which I spent my entire life. I'm working for a Fortune 500 company in the medical industry, and it's incredibly challenging. Stressful as it is, it pales in comparison to the stress brought onto me by my former job those last few months, but we won't get into that. Hello to all my former co-workers who might still check this thing periodically. I'm sure all is bright and cheery in your world.

I got several job offers after an intense job hunt here in Knox-Vegas, but of course I opted for the one which paid the most. My starting salary is more than I made with my previous employer after 7 years of service (which isn't exactly saying much.) The lady who hired me told me that over 100 people qualified for the position, but she knew I was the person for the job from the second she interviewed me. Truth is stranger than fiction, I suppose, especially considering that just about everybody who works there comes from a medical background, and I come from a utility company. That's the thing with me, though, I come on strong with the charm in the beginning and then lose my momentum somewhere down the road. Just ask Marv. We're still together, by the way, even though I think we both sometimes wonder why.

We have a quaint 2 bedroom apartment which looks like it's straight out of a town square in London. The kitchen is smaller than my cubicle at work, but the huge walk-in closet makes up for that. I would share pictures, but my digital camera is broken.

We also now have a pet rat named Raphael. He's white with red eyes and a creepy reptilian tail. It was not my idea to say the least, but it hasn't been as horrific as I had imagined it might be.

The biggest adjustment I'm having to make here is the traffic. The drive home in rush hour traffic is mentally exhausting, and I seldom want to do anything once I get home at around 6:00 p.m. It's kind of ironic, because one of the main reasons for moving here was that there would be so much more to do in the way of leisure activities. Live in a small town, have time but nothing to do. Live in a moderately sized city, have plenty to do but no time. It's just one cruel twist after another.

Well, that pretty much sums up the state of affairs in my life, and I think I can safely say I'm living up to my title.

In addition to our new dress code, many other changes have been made, and I will now be in a completely different department with far more stressful responsibilities. That's all well and good, provided I get the salary to match. We'll see.

In other news, I discovered a puzzling link to Nugatory Burble today on someone's blog. I don't know whether to be offended or flattered. The title of the link is "The most disfunctional  [sic], codependent relationship ever," and it's linked directly to my first entry in the satirical Enduring Marvlessness series. Ah well, at least someone's reading me, even if they do think I'm nuts. I am nuts, by the way. But that's ok, because I read something today from an Apple ad that made me proud to be crazy:

It has officially been a month now since I've eaten meat. While writing my last post, I came across PETA's site for advocating vegetarianism. After watching the short film "Meet Your Meat", I knew I had to at least give vegetarianism a shot.

It hasn't been nearly as hard as I had always imagined it would be. There are so many meat-free things  I enjoy eating that I don't feel deprived, and there are plenty of substitutes for meat products, such as soy burgers and sausages, which aren't half bad.

I feel really good about my decision, despite the fact that it has just furthered the beliefs of those who know me that I'm completely insane -- except for Marv, who joined me not long after he watched the film himself.

Honestly, I don't know how any compassionate person could watch that film and continue to eat meat in good conscience. And for every person who goes vegetarian, an average of 95 animals per year are spared. In addition to the animal rights issue, there are many other benefits to going vegetarian. It's better for your health and the environment, and it can aid in reducing world hunger because the grain being used to fatten animals for your plate could be used to feed the famished millions.

Thank you, Miracle Whip. It is because of your turkey-exploiting ad campaign that I have been forced to see the light where eating animals is concerned.

So what are we eating? Lots of pizza and pasta. We haven't gone completely vegan just yet, so cheese is still on the menu, although we are opting for soy milk and cage-free eggs. (Buying cage-free eggs is the least you can do for the poor chickens who spend their entire lives locked up in tiny cages not big enough for them to even lift their wings, with their feet literally growing into the metal beneath them.)

There aren't many options for vegetarians in fast-food restaurants, but there are plenty to be found elsewhere. Olive Garden, for instance, has about a dozen options, including the Ravioli di Portobello, Portobello mushroom-filled ravioli in a creamy smoked cheese and sun-dried tomato sauce. Yum. There are lots of options in Chinese and Mexican places as well, and of course, there's always dessert.

My next mission is to single-handedly put an end to global-warming. My inspiration for that came from none other than Al Gore. We saw his movie, An Inconvenient Truth, and it was another eye-opener.

I strongly urge you to see this movie, or at the very least visit the website www.climatecrisis.org. But just in case, here are some startling facts everyone should be aware of:

This is not some crazy conspiracy theory. This is scientific fact, and unless the world, and especially the U.S., changes its ways very soon, it is inevitable.

Now, it's time for Happy Minute. I made a vow months ago that "for every two things I bitch and moan about, I am going to throw in at least one positive, optimistic, happy, cheerful, or non-misanthropic thought." So, here's my cheerful thought for the day:

As I type this, we have only 932 days, 1 hour, and 49 more minutes of the Bush Administration left to endure.  Click here for the real-time countdown.

What have we become as a society when we exploit poor, helpless, little turkeys for the sake of selling a jar of mayonnaise?

Marv owes me a sausage. The last two times we've made sauerkraut with Polish sausages, I have discovered when warming up the left overs that he snuck in under the radar and ate the remaining sausages, leaving behind nothing but a pile of sauerkraut.



One of the many aspects of living with somebody that takes some getting used to is having to share all the good stuff, and often finding that the really good stuff has vanished before you get the chance to indulge. Given all this, you'd think we would be losing weight instead of continuing to gain as we both are. Poor Marv has gained in the neighborhood of 50 pounds since he moved in with me. He's not fat, though -- he was too skinny when he got here. I, on the other hand, passed the fat threshold tens of pounds ago.

But enough about that.

My life is becoming increasingly mundane, and I'm finding fewer and fewer things about which to ramble.  The most exciting thing to have happened to me since I last posted more than two months ago was the library sale Marv and I attended yesterday. It was absolute lunacy. We bought 17 CDs and 6 books for $12.00. Most of the CDs (including Shawn Colvin, The Strokes, Everclear, Lenny Kravitz, Kronos Quartet, Stone Temple Pilots, and Soul Asylum) were still in their plastic wrappers. I got mint condition copies of Isabel Allende's Daughter of Fortune, and Yasunari Kawabata's Thousand Cranes, among other notable titles.  It was positively frightening.

I've decided to join the local Friends of the Library. I'm pretty sure that it is the pinnacle of Dorkdom, but I've passed the point of caring. I need to socialize with some like-minded people, and they are few and far between in these parts. We're also going to start going to the local meetings of the Democratic Party, and we're going to visit some of the Unitarian Universalist churches in the area. Of course, there isn't one in this county, despite the fact that you can find a church about every two miles or so. No, we'll have to travel 60 miles to find a church that doesn't condemn you to Hell if you don't believe what they tell you.

Fundamentalists' view of the UU church is that it is a cult which celebrates Satanism. In actuality, this is how the UUA describes itself:

With its historical roots in the Jewish and Christian traditions, Unitarian Universalism is a liberal religion -- that is, a religion that keeps an open mind to the religious questions people have struggled with in all times and places. We believe that personal experience, conscience and reason should be the final authorities in religion, and that in the end religious authority lies not in a book or person or institution, but in ourselves. We are a "non-creedal" religion: we do not ask anyone to subscribe to a creed.

In other news, we're spending the night at the Knoxville Crowne Plaza next weekend so that we can fully enjoy the  Rossini Festival's Italian Street Fair on Saturday. There will be somewhere in the neighborhood of 80,000 people on the streets of downtown Knoxville enjoying the entertainment, arts & crafts, and European foods.


Next month, I'll be traveling to Chicago with my mom and the girls (aka my 2 daughters). We'll be housesitting for my Aunt Judy while she's cruising the Carribean. It will be the first plane ride for the kids, and I don't want to miss that.

Well, that pretty much sums up my current state of affairs.  Not that anybody cares, seeing as 99% of my traffic now comes from people either searching for the lyrics to "The Heart Brings You Back" (it's the hook, not the heart), images of a ruler, or information on Michelle Duggar's hair.

Pros and Cons of Living with a DJ: Part II

Pro:

I just controlled the line-up of the local radio station for about 10 minutes by e-mailing suggestions to my boyfriend, the DJ .

Con:

I just listened to my boyfriend, the DJ ,announce to the entire listening area that they could get a Verizon cellphone for $4.99, when he should have said $49.95.

The nattering nabob of negativity is back.

Pretty much all I've done on this so-called blog for the past few months is bitch and moan about one thing or another, mostly financial institutions. In a world wide web chock full of negativity, you'd think we bloggers would strive to throw in a dash of much-needed optimism here and there. So, as of this moment, I'm setting a goal for this blog o' mine:  for every two things I bitch and moan about, I am going to throw in at least one positive, optimistic, happy, cheerful, or non-misanthropic thought.


Hmm. It's not quite as easy as I had imagined it would be. I've been sitting here for the past five minutes trying to come up with something happy to write about, and nothing has come to mind as of yet. Why don't I just burble on about  random, nugatory, useless stuff instead? I'm sure that by the end of the post, something positive will have occurred to me.

I'm not a big fan of reality TV. I often find myself completely lost in conversations with family and co-workers about who insulted who on American Idol, who did or didn't get a rose on The Bachelor, or who ate the most disgusting combination of animal innards on Fear Factor. But recently PBS aired  a series which redefined reality TV for me.

The three part Frontline series called Country Boys aired in early January, but you can watch the entire program online.

Filmmaker David Sutherland and crew followed two teenage boys from rural Eastern Kentucky for three years. There is no narrator, but the boys can often be heard offering insight to what they were feeling in each scene. I was so completely wrapped up in their world that I felt more like a fly on the wall than a television audience member.

There was nothing about either of the boys that really stood out, but something about their stories completely captivated me from the moment I began watching. Maybe it's because for once somebody showed the "Real World" for what it truly is. Although the world seems to be controlled by the beautiful people, it's made full by the so-called misfits and invisible loners, and every single one of them has a beautiful story to tell.  Or, maybe it's because the world Chris and Cody live in isn't so much unlike my own. Either one of them could have been one of my classmates from high school. At any rate, I can't ever remember a television program having involved me as much as this one did. It wasn't pity I felt for these boys; it was humble admiration. Stereotypes I've held on to for years were obliterated as I witnessed a young man who came from the depths of poverty exhibit more class than a boardroom full of white collar professionals.

I could ramble on all night, and not do it justice. If you can at all, you should take the time to watch it online, or order the DVDs.  But one more thing before I shut up about it and move on to the next nugatory topic.  My favorite line from the movie, one which had Marv and I laughing our asses off for a good five minutes, came from a friend one of the boys was living with. His name was Jay, and to many people he would appear to be an uneducated, poor, mentally challenged hick. But Jay proffered perhaps the most fundamental wisdom of the universe when he told his friend Chris upon having him move in:  "You teach me how to drive, and I'll teach you how to get food stamps. That's what buddies are for."

Now, on to a couple of other boys on screen who seem to be the talk of the town no matter where you are: Jake and Heath. Jack and Ennis. The cowboys. The gay cowboys. (As Marv later pointed out, everybody refers to it as the "Gay Cowboy Movie" when in actuality, it's the "Gay Shepherd Movie.") I am, of course, referring to the stars of Brokeback Mountain. If you've been living under a rock for the past year, I should tell you that this is the movie starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger as ranch hands who become lovers in the early sixties. Marv and I saw it this weekend with my friend, Anthony, and I'm sorry to report that all three of us were disappointed. Sure, it was a nice love story, the acting was superb, and it's a breakthrough film, but in my (totally unworthy) opinion, it's not Golden Globe for Best Picture worthy. But, like Country Boys, it also offers up a line that is quote-worthy when Jack (Jake) says to Ennis (Heath), "You know, friend, this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation."

There we were, 2:00 on a Sunday afternoon, in a half-empty restaurant famous for its ribs, with not an edible rib to be found on the premises. They were fresh out of ribs, their specialty, despite the fact that it was being offered as their daily special. They were also out of the other special they were offering, the Beer Battered Grouper. So, after two tries of getting lemons for Anthony's water, failing to receive our standard before-dinner bread basket, and finding out that they were out of half of their featured menu items, we placed our order. Tennessee Chili was the Soup of the Day, so I ordered a bowl of it, and some quesadillas to share with the others. Marv ordered a cheeseburger with bacon. Anthony ordered one of their steaks.

When we got our food, there were no quesadillas, no bacon on the burger, and my chili was white. I did not order the White Chili, I ordered the Tennessee Chili, which is, for all practical purposes, a sort of reddish-brown color. No problem; they go and switch the White Chili for the other stuff, and bring out a half order of quesadillas when we had ordered a full. Marv had been pretty patient up until this point, but he can only take so much. He sort of snapped and started going on about how they had gottten every single thing wrong since we walked in the door, and Barry, our "official" waiter, heard the commotion and came running over to see what the problem was. When Marv mentioned that I had been given White Chili by mistake, Barry spoke up and said, "Oh, no. She ordered the White Chili."

Beg pardon?

When I reminded Barry that no, in fact, I hadn't ordered the White Chili, that I had specified the Tennessee Chili both verbally and by pointing to it on the menu where it was featured as the freakin' Soup of the Day, his only explanation was, "Well, I wasn't paying attention to where you were pointing on the menu, and most people order the White Chili, so I just assumed that was what you wanted."

At this point, we had already crossed the "our food will be spat in if we get anything else" threshold, so we decided to forego having them correct anything else and just stick with what we had. So, here's the part where I throw in a couple positives to counter the negatives: the food was excellent, and Barry was nice enough to fill up our drinks for the remainder of our time there. Great sport, that Barry.

Well, I've exhausted my allotted blog-posting time. I must go now, and journey downstairs to awaken my napping bedmate, who, as of late, has been making race car noises in his sleep (Vroom...VROOOOM...), and who, incidentally, has, at this very moment, a tiny metal shaving lodged in his throat all because of my love for mushrooms.

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