I won't bite!

It's Halloween, and everyone is decked out in their costumes and ghouly garb. My original costume idea feel through because of lack of time and finances (doesn't anyone sell a cheap, used wedding dress anymore?), so I'm came to work today as your basic, clad in black with heavy make-up goth. I hate thinking of goth as a costume. Much like punk, if you are one, it's kind of offensive for others to mock you. I'm not mocking it at all as I used to be a semi-goth, so I feel more like I'm putting on an old pair of slippers. However, other people really seemed freaked out by, almost to the point of being outright scared.

I took the train today for the last time this month, and I got on fully dressed and ready to go for the holiday. Luckily the conductors knew who I was or I might have been kicked off. I didn't do anything to scare anybody, didn't say anything, nothing. I got on, took my usual seat and proceeded to do my Sudoku puzzle. Whispers followed me as I passed by other passengers and strange looks met me down the aisle. After about 5 stops (I take the express train), no one was still sitting near me. Usually by Middletown I have at least one, sometimes, two more people crammed into my seat. But not today. Someone finally took the seat across from me at Woodbridge, a mere two stops from NYC Penn Station, and even she hesitated to make eye contact with me. I felt so loved.

I finally get into New York City, and it seemed as though the tables turned. I suddenly became a hooch because I have fishnets on. Catcalls, whistles, "hey baby", you name it, I got it as I walked just four blocks to work. I told my friend, Fee (see links for her blogs), that I felt like playing the full part and taking out any jerk who made a comment. I can see the headlines now: "Mad vigilante goth girl takes out NYC street scum". It's Halloween people! Give it a break! I put up with your rude comments everyday. Today's the day we all dress up to have fun, not to be jerks.

I've been picked on my whole life, from the minute I walked into pre-school to the minute I graduated college (well, maybe even as long as when I quit my job at the college). I have heard every comment, rude remark, filthy statement and racial slur you can think of. I'm 26 years old, and I work in New York City with who you would think would be civilized and sophisticated adults. I can tell, they're just about the farthest thing from sophisticated as they are mature (can you imagine what they're like when they're drunk?).

First of all, it's a costume (technically). I don't dress this way everyday. Second, I'm not a freak and I don't perform weird Satanic rituals on lab rats or your little chi-chi dog if I could get my hands on it. Third, fishnets don't make me a whore. There are plenty of "civilized, sophisticated business women" wearing them everyday. And finally, I WON'T BITE!!! It's make up. It's fake. Like the movies, you know. I don't like blood, and if I did, I wouldn't waste my time with your washed out, mutt blood.

So, in celebration of being different and being proud of it, I'm going to the Village Halloween parade in NYC, where I can join others like me, who enjoy dressing up and having a good time. Look for me on the news. Either I'll be dancing down the street or taking out a suit who had the balls (and I emphasize had) to make the comment that made me snap! And to all those of you who think Halloween is a waste of time and who take pleasure in ruining it for others, I hope you get hit some pretty rotten eggs and that your doormat is so damaged from that flaming bag of dog poop that you'll have to refinish your front porch before your have your Thanksgiving guests over. Happy Samhain to everyone, and to all a good fright!

http://www.piratesinfo.com/images/piratesinfo/illustrations/pirateflags/BlackBeard.jpg

The Almighty Dollar

I'm not made out of money, nor are most people I know. I know a few people on the higher end of the scale, but by no means are they filthy rich. My husband and I do the best we can, and sometimes it can be hard. It can be very hard. The other day I started thinking about money and began to wonder why so few have it all and the great percentage of us don't.

The elevators in my building each have a television screen, and every ride up and down we all have to see what's going on in the world. Sometimes there is entertainment news or health tips, sometimes the weather. Most of the time, though, it's politics and big money. I simply brush off the politics or write a blog about how much I hate the Bush Administration, but it doesn't particularly phase me. But then I take notice of the big money news. $32 million to this company, $4.2 billion to the other one. Where does it all come from and where do they keep it all?

When I was little I used to think all the money in America was kept at Fort Knox. Then I learned about investing and how people gamble their money on the market in hopes of making more. And now I'm wondering where does it all really go? Where does a company keep millions, sometimes billions of dollars? Where does a single person keep it all? And when the market crashes, where does it all go? My even bigger question is, if you can't see or touch all of that money, how do you even know it exists?

The US government spends billions and trillions of dollars a year on war, weapons, Presidential and Congressional vacations, and we never see any of it. You're going to tell me that in just under 230 years of being a unified, self governing nation, we have been able to make ourselves the richest most powerful country in the world? Our ancestors came here with not much more than the shirts on their backs and now we have everything we want and more. How is that possible? It took the Roman and British Empires hundreds and hundreds of years to accomplish the same thing. That leaves me with two possibilities: 1) We're stealing the money somehow or 2) it doesn't exist. Wouldn't it be a trip to go to Washington, DC and demand to see all of the gazillions dollars our government claims to have? Or call up Bill Gates and say, "Hey! I'm coming over to see all of your cash!" It would never happen.

How is it that the majority of the country is struggling to make it from paycheck to paycheck, and a certain select few can buy mansions, cars, boats, islands without a second thought? Has anyone noticed that the rest of us are starving to some degree? Some of us don't have food, some no heat or housing, some no health insurance. We're all starving while you financial gluttons eat up everything we're supposedly earning. I'm not even talking about the doctors and lawyers. It's affecting them, too. I know doctors who have had to retire early or quit their practice because big money is demanding too much from them. That doesn't sound right, but it's true. We're all fighting a losing battle. The only winners are the ones taking the money. And what makes me sickest of all is that government joins in the gang bang and raises are taxes instead of doing something about it.

Am I proud to be an American? Sometimes, but I'm more apt to say I'm Scottish, Irish and English than I am American. I once got into an argument with an Irish guy at a bar who asked me what I was. I replied, "Scottish, Irish and English." He fought me for about 5 minutes about how I have no right to say that when I'm from America. My ancestors came from Scotland, Ireland and England, not me. I closed the argument saying, "I hate what this country does to it's own people and how they allow it to happen. Until that changes, I will not call myself American." This stills stands today.

It's sad to say it, but where to we turn when we have no real guidance, only politicians and corporations raping us at every turn. If we're not at war, we're in recession or depression. We came here struggling and we will struggle everyday until someone steps up and says, "No. You can't have anymore of my money. My children are starving, my family and friends are ailing and there's no where I can get what I need to keep our lives going. It's my turn to take the money and your turn to sit and starve." Say what you like, but the time is coming. Isn't it, honey?

Pirate fact: The city of Port Royal, Jamaica was pronounced to be “the wickedest city on Earth” (Rankin 118). It became known across the world as a den and haven for pirates. They off-loaded their ill-gotten gains there, and spent many nights in a state of drunken debauchery over the years, until the sea swallowed the entire city in the aftermath of an underwater earthquake. (Thanks to Mike Walser for this little tidbit of info. Please visit

Piracy and America

for the complete article. )

Rain, Rain, Go Away!

It's been raining pretty much nonstop here for almost a week, and I'm slowly but surely becoming convinced that rain is only good for the plants and grass and quite detrimental to humans. I don't know why, but the moment it starts to rain, people just become stupid. It's like they've lived in a desert their whole life and they're experiencing rain for the first time ever. What gives people? It's just water!

Where to begin? Where to begin? I suppose I can start with driving. As my grandmother used to say, "Automobiles are like loaded guns. If you don't watch what you're doing every single moment, you'll end up hurt or worse yet, kill yourself or someone else." I'm sure everyone has seen horrible accidents along the highway. It's a terrible sight to see, but people just think they can do whatever they want because they're king of the road. I'm sorry, but just because you have a four wheel drive doesn't mean the rain (and snow) won't affect your driving ability. Do you know what four wheel drive is good for? Driving across a desert with some occasional rocks along the way. Four wheel drive is mind altering and dangerous in bad weather. I know this sounds horrible, but I sometimes ride by accidents and think, "I wonder what you were doing to end up in that position. How fast were you driving?" My husband is notorious (in a good way) for reminding me, or whoever the driver may be, that you should be at least three car lengths behind the car in front of you in the rain and the car lengths increase your speed increases. What can I say, his dad was a health and safety teacher.

I love the people who try and drive through a flooded intersection or down a flooded road. Maybe a Hummer or a Sherman tank could make it, but I'm sorry, you're little roadster is going to quit half way through. I'll be sure to wave as you float by. Oh, and a little factoid to help you brake at the intersection when you finally get out of that blocked off flood zone: tap your breaks a few times to get the water off of them (yes, something else I learned from my husband). If not, well, you'll be in one of those accidents I was talking about earlier.

Back in May of this year, I went a little off the wall about umbrellas and how people in the city just don't care who they hit or poke in the eye (check the blog in the archives). Well, my opinion still stands, and I hate umbrellas. I broke down and started using one this week, only in the slight chance that I may not get as soaked by the time I walk 4 blocks from Penn Station to my office. Yeah, right! Hey, I can't complain. It's lasted me a whole four days--a new record!

I noticed, though, that even pedestrians without umbrellas seem be simply stupid in the rain. Hello! I can see you running toward me in your banana-colored poncho and I'm getting out of the way. There's no reason to shove me. And by the way, it's a fact of Physics that you will get wetter if you run than if you walk (that's a bonus question I got wrong in high school, and I never forgot the right answer, kind of like when I misspelled despair in the 4th grade spelling bee). And what's up with the people who like to make huge splashes in the puddles? It's bad enough the SUV's and hot shot drivers are doing it with their cars, but you feel the need to do it too? Oh yeah, and please control your kids in the puddles. If I wanted to have that much water on me, I'd lie down in the gutter and swim in it myself. Thanks, but no thanks!

And my all time favorite bit of rainy day stupidity--those people who feel it's absolutely necessary to still be fashionable no matter what the weather is. Maybe it's just me, but why would anyone think it's okay to where stilettos in the teaming rain? Or flip-flops? Or shorts? I understand that some people need to dress professionally in their offices, but wouldn't it be smarter to dress professionally and bring an extra pair of shoes with you? I work in a pretty casual office, where the most dressed up person is wearing slacks and a button down shirt. I take full advantage of wearing jeans and cotton tops or sweaters on rainy days. I'm not going to kill myself to look good, if its only going to last until I get out of my car at the train station and have to walk through the monsoon-like weather.

So, what have we all learned here? Don't drive like an idiot because it won't do you or anyone else on the road any good. Watch where you're walking or everyone else around you will end up soaked after you and your brats splash though the puddles. Keep your damn umbrella out of my eye. And finally, if you don't already look like a fashion clown, you certainly will by the time your get to work. Chanel isn't waterproof!

Pirate fact: Pirates would often stock their ships with hardtack (hard biscuits), hens for fresh eggs and beer, which would soon go bad due to a salty taste from the sea air. Pirates would have a plentiful supply of meat from the abundant turtles found in the Caribbean. Limes would be supplied for longer voyages as a good source of Vitamin C. No scurvy aboard this vessel, maties!

Oh Shenandoah!

As of yesterday, I hadn't showered since Friday morning. I wasn't able to wash my hair properly or wear clean jeans or boots. I ate greasy and fried food, drank beer and smelled like campfire smoke and black powder. I spent most of that time wet and cold, but in the end it was all worth it. I spent the weekend in Winchester, VA at Fort Shenandoah, home of the North-South Skirmish Association (N-SSA) for the Fall National Civil War shoot.

My cousin and I drove down on Friday night amongst the 18-wheelers and late night travelers. Both my grandfather and her father are members of the N-SSA, and we have both been attending the nationals (spring and fall) since we were babes in arms. We grew up among the Civil War uniforms, fancy hoop dresses, muskets and carbines, mud, freezing cold and broiling heat. On our way down, we came to a consensus (that was later confirmed by a number of other "skirmishers"--as we call ourselves) that you can't really explain the N-SSA or the shoots to someone who has never attended one in person.

For example, where else can someone walk down the road to the toilets, groggy, dressed in pajamas with hair messed up and bad breath, and no one cares? In fact, everyone else you meet along the way will most likely look the same as you. After you get dressed and have breakfast (which could be cereal and milk in your camper or a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich from the Ruritan eating pavilion at the range), you walk down to the shooting range to see the first phase of competition. If it's Saturday, the carbine shoot will be followed by artillery. Always a sight to behold!

After your cheer your team on (mine is the 1st Virginia Cavalry), you take a walk through Sutlers, where you can buy anything from Civil War clothing to antique jewelry and guns. You may end up at the dress competition, watching all of the ladies and girls in their finest Civil War dresses and ball gowns. You eventually end up back at your campsite and have yourself a beer. Or two. Or three. It doesn't matter, because you can start drinking at 2:00 in the afternoon, drink all day and night, never get drunk (or get very drunk, as we have all seen), and no one cares. A camp cookout follows around 5:00PM, and finally a number of people find themselves up at the barn dance, where you can dance however you want, and NO ONE CARES!

Sunday morning brings the musket shooters out to the range and more greasy cheeseburgers to hands and mouths than should really be consumed. Eventually everyone packs up and goes home, though some stay over on Sunday night to get a quiet exit first thing Monday morning.

Coming down to Winchester twice a year has been a major highlight in my life. I have made life long friends, learned about American history, heard great tales around the campfire of the good old days and have added a little bit more to my memories each year. For two weekends a year, I can forget about work (no cell phone reception!), traffic, the internet, bills--EVERYTHING! It's so peaceful and away from everything that you don't even know the rest of the world exists. Everyone is polite, the men don't make disgusting remarks to the women, the food is out of this world, and the company you keep is like no other.

This trip down, I decided that it was time for me to join the team as a competitive shooter. My grandfather spoke to our officers and my letter of request went out yesterday afternoon. I'll be joining my grandfather on the line at the range and carrying on what I would like to see become a family tradition. I want my children to enjoy the same time away from busy New Jersey and make lifelong friends the way I have.

I'll be spending the rest of the fall and all the way to next spring learning how to shoot, but it will all be worth it. Next May will be my inaugural shoot and it will be great! This is a part of my life I never want to give up, and I'm glad that I'm now able to join as a member to keep the organization going. Now if I could only convince my husband to shoot...

I recommend you look at:

N-SSA official site to learn more.

Also, check out

"You Might Be a Skirmisher If..." to learn more about the crazy things that only our little community seems to understand.

Excuse ME!

Is it just me or don't people say, "Excuse me," anymore? In fact, does anyone have any manners anymore? It's not just something I've noticed in New York City; I'm noticing everywhere I go. What happened to the good old days of proper etiquette?

Of course, working in New York City, the number one place to come face to face with rudeness is walking down the sidewalk. Tons of people meshing together to make mini-blockades that will either push you aside or plain knock you down. Male-chauvinists and the filth of the streets murmur disgusting comments under their breath as you walk by. Taxi drivers are willing to mow you down to get to their next fare. Combine all of that with the dirty streets, the horrible smells of the gutters and subways and the heavy haze that hangs over the city, and you have a pretty good pot of darkness and evil brewing. New York is known for being rude and pushy. I was just shocked when I started noticing the rudeness spreading to New Jersey and Connecticut and Pennsylvania...

I commute to Manhattan everyday. I used to take the bus, but with gas prices being so high, I've turned to the pricey New Jersey Transit as my, believe it or not, cheaper alternative. It seems, though, that no matter where I go, the commuters are all the same: rude, rude, rude. I always sit at the end of the car where the two seats face each other. My reasoning is is that there's so little leg room, it's barely comfortable to fit two people, one facing the other in opposite corners of the seats. I like some open space next to me, and most of the time, people will pass up these seats because there simply is not enough room to fit another full-grown body, let alone two more.

One day, I got on the train and dozed off. We pulled into Matawan-Aberdeen and another woman fit in across from me. We were both comfortable enough, with just enough room for our coats and bags. As we pulled out of the station, she also dozed off. After about ten to fifteen minutes, we pulled into South Amboy, and two other women decide that they couldn't possibly be separated and the only two seats where they could sit together are the two seats left where the woman and I are already sitting. Yes there are two available seats, but please, none of us were that skinny to fit comfortably. Basically they pushed the other woman and myself so far into the wall of the train car, we could barely breathe let alone move. They proceeded to converse at the top of their lungs about bikini waxes and gynecologist visits. Neither the other woman from Matawan-Aberdeen nor I slept the rest of the trip. And the best part, not one "excuse me".

Of course, my favorite, is when people push into those seats and either just chuck your belongings on your lap or keep pushing you until your so squished into the wall you can't move until they stand up to exit. One woman literally sat on my pocketbook, my lunch and my coat, all while pushing me into the wall. After being shocked awake (which anyone who knows me well, is not a good thing), I tried for almost a minute to retrieve my belongings from under her colossal bottom. When I succeeded in getting my things back, she wedged her bag between the two of us forcing me into even closer proximity to the wall. I felt like I was in a torture devise of some sort.

And today, a man got on the train and continued to physically push me and my pocketbook with his hands until I woke up and moved over. Last time checked, I had ears and would respond to a simple "excuse me". I fact, if I didn't respond at first, please just tap me on the shoulder and wake me up. I won't bite. I promise. Of course, this has all happened for over a year on the bus as well (I"m not sure which group is ruder, though).

So when did we lose our manners? Just last night, my mother and I were watching "America's Next Top Model", and she noticed that the girls just aren't taught the same manners she and I were taught. For example, my grandmother made sure to drill into both of us, the basic principles of sitting correctly, speaking politely, eating just the right way. And after her courses in proper behavior, I met my husband who attended West Point, the epicenter of good manners and proper etiquette, and who came from a family who raised him the same way I was raised. Maybe I'm just more privileged than most people, but I never considered good manners a privilege before.

I've also noticed the television shows about British nannies coming to suburban America to save the day from bratty little children. I was never beaten, but I did get the occasional smack if I crossed the line. Who didn't? I know that even the occasional smack can be damaging for some people, but after watching these children on television, I have to admit that timeout doesn't seem to be working. Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't a timeout in football or baseball actually give the team some time to come up a with a new plan? How many kids actually sit there and think about what they've just done wrong. Most of them are formulating the next plan. "How can I get Mommy and Daddy next time?" I can tell you this for absolute sure: my children will be raised with the same manners and etiquette my husband and I were raised with. I don't care how antiquated it is! It's bad enough I have to deal with so many rude adults by simply commuting to work and walking down the street. They can spread their bad manners to their children, but my children will be raised properly.

Hopefully someone has learned a lesson while reading this. What's that, you might be asking? Rudeness and foul behavior spread, and they spread rapidly. They spread to other people, to those we love, and most importantly, to children. The song says, "the children are our future," so why pollute them with bad manners and no etiquette? If a child is going to learn from anyone, it's a parent or family member. If you do nothing else while raising your children, please teach them how to behave in public, or we are just going to end up in a world of hatred and evil. It's not worth ignoring when you consider how the world is right now and the direction it's heading.

Pirate fact: Treasures of the Pirate Ship Whydah in Provincetown, Massachusetts, is a public display of artifacts from the first pirate ship ever salvaged. Commanded by pirate captain Samuel Bellamy, the Whydah sank off the coast of Massachusetts in 1717.