My Tin Foil Hats

The final installment of X's interview. Enjoy...

What’s your favorite conspiracy theory, and why?
Sheesh, I could have written an entire dissertation on this question alone. When most people think of conspiracy buffs they picture a paunchy, middle aged guy wearing a tin foil hat while sitting in the basement of his parents’ house. This may be true in some cases but most conspiracy theorists I’ve come into contact with are actually highly intellectual people who see something amiss and dig deeper. Or as my boss would put it “give it the smell test”. If it doesn’t smell right it probably isn’t. Talk to a conspiracy buff and you’ll find someone who knows more about history than just what was taught in your high school or college textbooks. But, I digress, on with the answer…There are actually 2 that I try follow on a somewhat regular basis.

JFK assassination – There are a million and one conspiracy theories about this assassination. What keeps me interested in this topic is that too many things don’t add up. How does a guy with U.S. military training defect to the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War then return to the U.S. to re-claim his citizenship with not so much as a peep from the government? How does a guy who, according to which account you believe, couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a bulldozer fire 3 shots in 15 seconds and manage to blow out the brains of the sitting American President? Before he can be tried, or for that matter properly interrogated, he himself is killed in front of the entire Dallas police department by a supposed vigilante. As of yet, no one has accounted for how the third man was shot in Dealey Plaza, especially since he was nowhere near the motorcade (well, except for him…he compiled his own conspiracy theory and had it published). And where the hell is Kennedy’s brain? In April 1968, civil rights activist Martin Luther King was assassinated, again by a supposed lone, crazed gunman. In June 1968, JFK’s brother and then presidential candidate Robert Kennedy was assassinated by yet another lone, crazed gunman. Apparently in the ‘60s it was very vogue to be a lone, crazed gunman. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Add the assassination of South Korean leader and U.S. puppet Diem twenty days prior to the JFK assassination and Kennedy's limited withdrawal of troops from the war in the weeks leading up to his assassination.

And what about Vietnam? Kennedy was searching for a way to get the hell out - quickly. In less than a year after the assassination, Congress passed the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution based on 2 reports of unfriendly fire on U.S. destroyers. The second of these incidents, the attack on the USS Turner, was deemed to have been a fabrication according to a 2005 NSA report (similar to the whole WMD debacle). The Resolution effectively gave then President Johnson free reign in SE Asia. My opinion is that the whole thing stinks worse than week old fish. Someone was desperate to stay in Vietnam…the question is, why?

The second conspiracy theory that has recently caught my attention is probably going to gain me permanent membership in the tin foil hat club but here it goes. Originally it started as a quest to gain more information about the Nag Hammadi Library (aka Dead Sea Scrolls) after my curiosity was piqued by the movie Stigmata and then piqued again by The DaVinci Code. I was raised Presbyterian which means that I was taught to interpret the stories of the Christian Bible as fables rather than historical fact with the exception of a few, namely the birth as well as the crucifixion and subsequent resurrection. In reading the Scrolls and the subsequent research, I came across statements that the crucifixion of Jesus was faked. Actually one of the Gospels found at Nag Hammadi explains how the crucifixion was faked and contains some rather snarky comments from Jesus about how He fooled the Romans. Further research revealed a supposed burial site in India.

Is there any truth to this? Some, but I haven’t had much time to properly research this theory yet. If true, it could be the biggest conspiracy in history. Why does it appeal to me? To tell the truth, the mere idea of something being false that I've been taught to believe for so long drives me to flesh this out. I need to be able to say that I checked it out and either I believe it to be possible or I don't. When you boil it all down, that need is what drives any researcher.

Thanks to my dear friend, X, for dragging me kicking and screaming back into the blogosphere.

The Continuation of the X Interview

If you could take the most pleasant aspects of every city you’ve lived in, and form a new city (1) what would you call it, and (2) what’s cool to do in this town on a Saturday night?

I grew up in a tiny village in rural Ohio. Every one I knew grew up on a farm. Every one they knew grew up on a farm. Cultural diversity was a term that I didn’t become familiar with until I went to college. I began dating a guy from Puerto Rico (ok, not the wilds of say, Zimbabwe but it was a start). After meeting his friends, I realized that I wasted 3 years of my precious, young life in high school Spanish class because it took me about 5 minutes to arrive at the painful consensus that I didn’t know jack. I could barely speak conversational Spanish and I knew absolutely nothing about their culture. After a few pitchers of beer and a pizza, it didn’t matter. We were chatting like close friends. That was when I realized that, as corny as it sounds; food really can bring people together.

If I had to create a new town it would have a central marketplace like the ones found in Asia, Africa and South America. Filled with vendors selling fresh meat, veggies, fruit, nuts…anything you could possibly want to eat. And street vendors selling homemade delicacies from around the world. Stop…I know what you’re thinking. There would be no deep fried Twinkies in this joint. No hot dogs steamed in water that looks like it was pumped from the septic tank in my backyard. I’m talking fresh food from Mom & Pop vendors. Wouldn’t it be nice to just pop over to the mercado for quick, tasty and somewhat nutritious lunch or dinner rather than eating at Mickey D’s…again? Who cares if you can’t pronounce it or don’t really know what it’s made of. Usually if you can point to it, you can order it. And if it smells good, it’s more than likely going to taste great (one rule: nothing made from rat. I don’t care how good it smells/tastes, I ain’t eating rat). There would be tables everywhere so you could sit down, chow on your grub and discuss the fine art of how to suck on a crawfish head without popping out the eyes with someone you just met.

Each weekend the marketplace would be filled with music from different cultures. A little steel drums and reggae in one quadrant, maybe some Salsa in another and of course, my favorite band du jour in the middle of it all (hey, I’m putting out the money here). Did I mention the alcohol? Drinks from all over the world as well. You could literally start with a pint of Guinness, be transported by sake and bring the night to a close with a few shots of sugar cane liquor from South America. Although, I wouldn’t recommend that particular combo unless you plan on showing one and all that scrumptious sashimi you ate for dinner. And free cab rides home so I don’t have to scrape your arses off the street at bar close.

Evidently the creative portion of my brain shut down today because I'm having trouble coming up with a name for this imaginary town. Any suggestions???

Tomorrow, one last question from X....about conspiracies.....

Xdell's Fiendish Attempt to Get Me Posting Again

My dear friend, Xdell, whom I love and adore, asked if he could interview me. I thought maybe dementia had finally set in as I could find no other reason why the great one would want to interview little ol’ me. I’ll do anything for X so I, of course, agreed to do it. I figured he’d send me a few questions, I’d respond and he’d post it on his blog. Not so fast there, Missy. The instructions were to post the answers on my blog, which of course, hasn’t contained a new post for almost a year. Sneaky one, aren’t you X? ;) So I guess I’m posting again. Yes, you can take bets on how long I keep up with it this time around. On with the questions…and answers….

Imagine that you’re the founder and president of a successful proprietary company. What’s your product, or service?
Why Giant Atomic Chicken slaying, of course. See below. Ooooo, maybe I could get a cool X-men type leather uniform to do the slaying in. Wait…if I remember correctly, SJ’s pact with Satan brought forth the Giant Atomic Chickens in the first place. Oh well, maybe if I cut him in on the cash flow and throw a few souls his way, he’ll be ok with me destroying a few chickens. You’d pay a couple of grand to keep from being Giant Atomic Chicken fodder, wouldn’t you???

About a year ago, SJ wrote that you were the only human he would rescue from the Giant Atomic Chickens. Were you able to subsequently subdue the beasts, would you be partial to the breast, thigh, wing or drumstick?
If I remember correctly the whole idea of making the chickens atomic was so no one would decide to feed a small nation with them. But I do love me some chicken wings, especially giant fiery hot atomic ones. The only problem is that you maintain a green glow for the next 10 years (not to mention the digestive tract implications). Hmmm, I wonder if I can get those in spicy teriyaki.

Who are the top 10 fictional characters you would love to date (cannot be a real person, only a fictional character)?

1. Atticus Finch – To Kill a Mockingbird is my favorite book. Set in the Deep South, prior to the Civil Rights movement, Atticus accepts the challenge of defending a black man against false rape charges. Knowing that he would be ostracized by friends and family, knowing that it possibly meant harm to himself and his children, he did it because it was the right thing to do. Now, really…who among us would turn down a date with a man that honorable?
2. Chris Neilson – If you’ve never seen What Dreams May Come, rent it NOW. I’m not one for ushy-gushy love stories – I didn’t even cry during Titanic – but this one makes me cry every time. This is the man – the love – for which I search. Added bonus: I’m a big Monet fan so the scene in the painting always reminds me of what it would be like to walk around inside one of the master’s works.
3. Maximus - Blessed father, watch over my wife and son with a ready sword. Whisper to them that I live only to hold them again, for all else is dust and air. Ancestors, I honor you and will try to live with the dignity that you have taught me. *sighs* Seriously, what woman wouldn’t want to date this man???? Mmmm. The fact that the thought of Maximus conjures images of Russell Crowe in that short gladiator uniform helps the cause.
4. Aragorn - Admittedly, I chose Aragorn based on the LOTR movies, not the books. I tried reading the series when I was younger and frankly, couldn’t get through it. From what I can tell, Aragorn was a bit more self-assured in the books. I think I’ll stick with Aragorn from the movies. I like my men with a few faults.
5. Hawk-eye – Ok, this is partially a cop out as Hawk-eye, Maximus and Aragorn are essentially the same character. The hero of James Fennimore Cooper’s Last of the Mohicans. Honestly, I would have thrown William Wallace (Braveheart) into the mix as well, but, alas he wasn’t fictional.
6. Hobbes (of Calvin & Hobbes fame) – Obviously, Hobbes is the more mature of the 2 lovable characters, and the only one I might add that doesn’t think girls are G.R.O.S.S. which heightens my chances, right??
7. Prince Charming- Cinderella. ‘Nuff said.
8. Wolverine – Ok, I admit the image of Hugh Jackman (SFW with ‘whoa momma I want me some of that’ pic) in leather makes me quiver but it’s not solely Hugh that makes Wolverine so attractive. I’ve had a thing for Wolverine long before the X-Men movies came out. Maybe it’s the bad boy attitude. Maybe it’s the smart ass remarks. Nah, I think it’s the hair. Note to self: Add handcuffs to the head board. Gotta watch where those claws are at all times. Ouch!
9. Dracula – No, not the character as portrayed in Bram Stoker’s novel, nor most of the hundreds of interpretations. Only the Dracula from the Coppola 1992 remake will do for this girl. I’m not certain if it was Coppola or Gary Oldham who came up with the idea to romanticize – almost humanize – Dracul in this interpretation. Even Stoker himself never made me feel anything but contempt for the monster. But Coppola/Oldham made me feel sorrow for his predicament, made me want to free him – or join him. The scene in the bedroom of the sanatorium, while the men are out looking for Dracula, he comes to Mina in the form of a mist under the bed sheets. The moment when he stops her from drinking his blood – from joining him in eternal life - because he cannot bear the thought of her eternal damnation. That scene does it for me every time. It makes me think of him not as a horrible monstrosity but rather simply as a man, in love with a woman. Whew!
10. Linus Larrabee – Sabrina is one of my favorite movies. I picked Linus because the character is the epitome of a type A personality, someone who is driven by excellence and a need to succeed. It’s extremely hard for him to admit that he needs anything or anyone. I admire the character for his ability to not only realize his faults but to overcome them.

Stay tuned. The interview continues tomorrow......

Tired of the Tango

Ok, just to update the workout saga I did the leg/core routine for the first time yesterday. Romanian deadlifts may workout your entire body but they also make it incredibly hard to stand or sit the next day. I look like my Grandmother when I get up from a chair...clinging to any nearby solid object for support. Oh, if only Matthew Mcconaughey were nearby!

On with the post...

I've been dancing with this guy at the gym. No, not Dancing with the Stars type dancing but that tango that we all do while checking each other out. If you haven't noticed yet, I become a complete idiot at this stage of the dating game. This time I've been trying to keep my head on straight and at least appear that I know how to play this game.

So far that dance has involved him staring, me smiling when I catch him staring and him turning away red-faced when caught in the act. Last week when I emerged from one of the workout rooms after a class, he and his friend were on a machine right outside the door. I had to giggle at the look on their faces. It was that, "OMG, it's her!" look. You know...the look you get when you're strolling down the hallway at the office and the hottie from Marketing appears from nowhere??? I smiled at them and continued to walk out while chatting away with the other girls from my class.

Why am I telling you all this? Because I'm growing tired of dancing. I mean it's a fun little game but enough already. The band's tired of playing and I'd like to have a name to put with my little hottie's face. So how do I progress from this tango to a little dirty dancing? Do I feign ignorance and ask him for help on an exercise? Do I ask to work-in (for the workout impaired that means sharing) on a machine he's using? WHAT??????

Good grief! Why can't we all just be equipped with traffic lights so we'd know what the other is thinking? You know...red means "don't even try it", yellow "proceed with caution", green "c'mon wild monkey sex". Ok...that's not what green means but you get the picture. Wouldn't that be sooooo much easier????

Ouch!

I ramble...therefore I am.

My butt hurts. Well, actually my glutes hurt. As do my thighs. No, not from wild monkey sex (ahhh, wild monkey sex.....what's that like? I've forgotten). I worked out with one of the trainers last night. She developed a new workout routine for me and as we talked she mentioned that she thought I was working out too hard. Then we ran through the new routine. I don't quite know how to tell her that the old workout was a piece of cake compared to this one. I mean...a Romanian Deadlift??????? It even sounds hard. My muscles ache and I only did 1 set of the new exercises. Someone get the Advil. Please.

Please.Stop.Head Exploding. This whole Anna Nicole/Britany Spears media circus is frying my brain. As much as I try to avoid it, everytime I turn on the TV or check a news website it's the lead story. Do we not have enough drama in our own daily lives that we have to thrive on someone else's? For once, could we just...for a minute...not care about the probate matters or shaved heads of celebrities? For 3 or 4 seconds......please.....could we focus on a real issue?

1st Beaver spotted in NYC in over 200 years. Ok, make your own jokes.

The issue in Texas regarding parents who are upset about the HPV vaccine mandate because they either (a) don't want to (or don't know how to) talk to their kids about sex or (b) think it will give their kids free reign to have sex made me wonder...Why are so reluctant to talk to kids about sex? It's not like they aren't going to do it if we don't tell them about it. I remember my mom's version of "the talk" consisted of handing me a book. I could make a list of all the things I had to learn about sex on my own (that didn't come out right. lol). Wouldn't it be nice to put some actual facts in their head before they go down that road?

I think I'm done rambling. Have a great weekend!

Truth or Dare

Newton theorized that for every action there was a separate but equal reaction. His theory related to motion. In other words, if throw a baseball at your car windshield, the windshield will chip or crack in some manner which is equal to the velocity at which I throw the ball.
It occurred to me that Newton's theory doesn't just apply to motion but to emotion as well. Every action we take causes a separate but equal reaction by someone else. If I do something nice for you, you in turn do something nice back. Again, velocity (or maybe veracity in this case) is a key factor. The larger the action, the larger the reaction. Well, theoretically that's how it works.

Recently I expelled a friend from my life for lying. He'd probably refer to it as telling "versions" of the truth...never outright super-sized lies but also never the whole truth. It was always some version of what happened that fell somewhere in the midst of truth and untruth and contained more holes than Swiss cheese. He did it on a continuous basis and I grew weary of deciphering the "real" truth from the misinformation he provided. I tried to explain my weariness but it was to no avail. No matter what my action was, his reaction was always the same. So, I walked away...in emotional terms the ultimate reaction.

The problem is I wonder if I over-reacted. Where do you draw the line between being a friend and getting sucked into their personal issues? I know I can't fix the issue for him. I know that my actions (or reactions as the case may be) significantly reduced the amount of drama in my own life. I'm wondering if my theory is seriously flawed...that action doesn't always = reaction in the emotional world.

Empowerment by Panties

I haven't been feeling very confident lately. I've always been rather shy and any depletion of my confidence usually sends me into withdrawal until I feel safe to step out of my comfort zone again. Evidently my little excursion into my cave of solitude had been noticed by one of my dearest male friends.

"You need new panties."
"Excuse me?" I said giggling
"You've lost your confidence. You need new lingerie...bras, panties..."
"And this will return my confidence?" I was still giggling at the absurdity of his suggestion.
"Yes. You need to go shopping tomorrow. Whatever you buy it has to make you feel sexy every time you put it on."

I thought he'd finally lost his mind. A new bra was supposed to return my confidence? Had he ever worn a bra????????? They're not exactly the most comfortable thing you can wear. The usual rule of thumb is the sexier the bra the more uncomfortable it is. I'm much more myself
in something comfortable. I didn't have to say it out loud. I knew his response would be that that was exactly his point. So, shopping I went.

It's amazing what shopping for sexy lingerie can do for one's psyche. As I selected my bounty and headed for the dressing room I noticed a bounce in my step. My mojo was making a come back. By the time I hit the check-out I was in full blown "all that and a bag of chips" mode. I even laughed and winked at the sales woman when she joked that I evidently had some hot plans.

My friend was right. I'm not sure if it's the feel of the silk against my skin or the secret knowledge that what lies beneath these jeans is not just a pair of plain jane cotton panties but rather full fledged satin and lace with matching bra to boot. Whatever it is, my confidence has made a triumphant return. I even walk with more confidence...or maybe that's just the fact that the girls are cinched up to my nose. No matter. Perception is reality and if a little lace does the trick...then so be it.

*A big *smooch* and my undying gratitude to my friend for knowing my confidence was there the whole time and pointing me in the right direction.