My regular readers will have figured out that I’m Jewish, but what you don’t know is that I converted a few years ago. I was Catholic for a few years (around 5 or so I guess). Yesterday’s post is a perfect example of why I’m not anymore. I can figure out for myself how to live my life–thank you very much. The Catholic hierachy just has too much time on its hands to be doling out advice on driving–or the sins one is capable of while driving. As if we can’t get that for ourselves. While it might be nice if everyone was more polite while driving, I hardly think that some bulletin from the Vatican is going to do anything. It’s good for a laugh though.

I left it long ago when I saw the “liberal” priests being booted out for really tiny things–like making jokes that someone found offensive and reported to the bishop. Mostly they were minor missteps in speaking. Nothing really to bother about. Good excuse though to get rid of the pesky liberals and promoters of Vatican II. I also got sick and tired of listening to priests tell me that I should be home making babies. That’s all women are good for, you know. God forbid that one ever consider that a female might have a brain. So after an awakening to the misogyny of the Church and the realization that I didn’t believe that Jesus was God. How can a person be God anyway? Jesus never said he was. I went through a period of being nothing–not related to any particular religion. After a few life changing circumstances, I realized that I was missing something and also found out that my beliefs corresponded more with Judaism than anything else. Trust me, I read up on lots of things:  Buddhism, Pagan, Wicca, etc. None really worked for me though.

The latest Rolling Stone arrived Saturday. If you’re not a subscriber, this one is worth a read for the article on the Bush administration and environmental policy–or lack thereof. I’ve barely gotten halfway through this particular article, and I’m too pissed off to continue. I can’t imagine that it gets better. Unfortunately. I wish I could link to the article, but it doesn’t seem to be posted on their website. If you haven’t read the amzing articles on politics found in Rolling Stone, you’re missing out on a lot. For a summary of this article…let’s just say we’re screwed.

Oh and if what they say about California is true…there will be more than a mass exodus. No water equals no food. Not for California and not for the rest of the country. No strawberries, almonds, peaches, carrots, lettuce. None. Nada.  Bees won’t be necessary.

Some facts about California: (from http://www.beachcalifornia.com/california-food-facts.html)

1. California has been the number one food and agricultural producer in the United States for more than 50 consecutive years.

2. More than half the nation’s fruit, nuts, and vegetables come from here.

3. California is the nation’s number one dairy state.

4. California’s leading commodity is milk and cream. Grapes are second.

5. California’s leading export crop is almonds.

6. Nationally, products exclusively grown (99% or more) in California include almonds, artichokes, dates, figs, kiwifruit, olives, persimmons, pistachios, prunes, raisins, clovers, and walnuts.

7. From 70 to 80% of all ripe olives are grown in California.

8. California is the nation’s leading producer of strawberries, averaging 1.4 billion pounds of strawberries or 83% of the country’s total fresh and frozen strawberry production. Approximately 12% of the crop is exported to Canada, Mexico, United Kingdom, Hong Kong and Japan primarily. The value of the California strawberry crop is approximately $700 million with related employment of more than 48,000 people.

9. California produces 25% of the nation’s onions and 43% of the nation’s green onions.

Here’s something I heard awhile back that really bothered me, but I didn’t write about. I was having a discussion about donating items to charity. This is something I do on occasion. Often I don’t record it. Sometimes I do keep a list and determine a value for the donated items. What I want to know is what kind of person donates clothes but puts down furniture on the receipt? Charities just don’t want to deal with itemizing anymore, so you can write down whatever you want. But why would someone “cheat” a charity? I guess I don’t get it because it would never occur to me to do so. Perhaps I’m too honest.

A conversation keeps playing in my head about a dress I had for sale (still for sale) on the garage sale. This is a dress I bought years ago for a cruise. Long, beaded gown in navy blue. Very pretty. But deemed as “matronly” by others. I feel the need to defend my dress choice. I bought the dress in the Midwest several years ago now. Low-cut, breast-baring styles just weren’t the thing at the time.  I’m a mom, not a hoochie momma. Also this cruise was a family cruise. One we never got to take. So my then nine-year-old son was going on the cruise. had this been a cruise just for me and other adults, my clothing choices would have been much different, but I still would have had to deal with what was available.

A year before I had worn a Chinese style dress to a concert that I took my son to for Christmas. His eyes popped out of his head. Yes, just like a grown man. I wasn’t inclined towards baring a lot of skin on a family cruise nor around my son. As my son has grown older, he has to deal with friends who think his mom is “hot.” I never had to deal with this. I can’t even imagine what it is like. Even going shopping with him can be bothersome for him as he sees all the men staring at his mom. As he has gotten into his teen years, he notices more and knows exactly what they are thinking. He doesn’t think much of them. In fact, he stares them down. So everyone will have to pardon me if I pick more conservative outfits when I’m out with my son. It’s more for his comfort than mine.

There’s only one thing worse than going to garage sales and that’s having one. I spent my Saturday having a garage sale at someone else’s house. I got up early so I could be across town (takes 25 minutes) by 7 am. The set up took awhile. The tear down seemed to take longer. I got rid of some stuff, but since my friend didn’t place an ad like he said he would, most of my stuff didn’t get sold. Not one person came who could wear my clothes. Very few even looked at the boys clothes. Of course there were other helpers. There was A who couldn’t pick up dropped change because it might ruin her nails. Good grief! I just got a manicure, but I make sure that it’s done so I can use my hands. Long nails are so unpractical. I like to keep mine short. Not like hers were that long–she wasn’t wearing talons.

I did alright when it comes to making money on the sale, but I could have done so much better if an ad had been placed. I got rid of maybe a third of the stuff. I had hoped for a better sale, like the ones I’ve had before.

The people who come are crazy. I hardly think they know what things are worth. Amazing what people will ask for. There will be another one. Better be better than this one.

Late in the afternoon I was too tired to take advantage of my friend allowing my to put money from a sale in his pocket. I thought about it after. Mentioned it even. But my mind was elsewhere. He was too tired also. I think he appreciated the thought though.

I did manage to keep from getting sunburned–except for my feet and legs (front and back). How’s that for being brilliant. I started the day in jeans, but it got hot about mid-morning, so I changed into shorts and sandals. I didn’t get sunscreen on my feet or my legs. As the sunbrun develop, the pain sets in. Fun. I can sometimes get sun sickness. It’s a bit like the flu. Sucks.

Really. Truly boring. Although I did notice a little birdy came by my blog who hasn’t visited in awhile. Perhaps tomorrow will give me some good blogging material. I will have to keep a look out. Tomorrow is garage sale day. Only thing I’m looking forward to is making some money. I’m not at all happy that it’s ruining my Friday night because I have to be across town before 6:30 am to set up. If I have to get up an hour a half earlier so I can be across town on time, there better be good blog material!

To my little birdy: posts get categorized according to my whims, thus if I want to hide posts in other categories, I do.

That would be my mind that is bugged. Not busy enough, so my mind buzzes with analyzing conversations, life, etc. It has gotten too noisy in here again. The seminar I have been complaining about is nearly over. It was boring at first. I was beyond it. Now the seminar finally caught up to where I’m at, and I think I’m going to miss it.

For the first time I can remember, I didn’t react when someone yelled at me. Nothing. Silence. No waiting for my say. In fact, I wasn’t thinking of anything to say in reply. It wasn’t about me. The problem, as this person saw it, was that I didn’t understand. Perhaps not. Perhaps it helps to be clear in your speaking?

Ever noticed how easy misunderstandings arise? I keep seeing this. I say something I think is clear, but then I get questioned as if my interpretation is somehow wrong. I just have to shake my head. Move on. And remember that it doesn’t mean anything. But how easy it is for these misunderstandings to completely blow up. I’m often left bewildered and confused. When you stand back and look at this, it’s like two five-year-old kids going at it. “Yes.” “No.” “You suck.” “I’m not playing anymore.” Pouting. Seething.

Whose rules do you play by? Yours? Others? How do you figure out others’ rules without asking directly? Doesn’t everyone play according to their own rules?

I began thinking about this a week ago when someone told me that I play my games by my rules (considered good) and I play others’ games by my rules (considered bad). I do know enough about myself to know that if I don’t like the rules, I don’t play.
The intensive thinking came about from a discussion last night about the games we play in life. Everything can be reduced to a game. My biggest concern is how to keep a game going for a long time. Games start out pretty good. Things go well. Everyone is happy. Then stuff happens–could be anything. Arguments. Petty personality issues (often happens at work). Then the game isn’t as much fun so then it dies a slow death. I’ve seen this in just about every area of my life. Doing something new is great for awhile. Then I become disillusioned. Sometimes I quit after that. If I don’t leave, I’ve left anyway because I’m not really there.