tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36585034434927694762024-03-13T11:31:16.080-04:00Becka On TourTraveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-2265393006529223572015-12-20T19:26:00.000-05:002015-12-20T19:26:28.048-05:00PlaceholderPre New Year Resolution. Scratch that, New Year's Resolutions can go in the same pile with Bucket Lists. Just live.<br />
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But, hey that's what I'm doing. So I'm about to head out on my next adventure. An adventure who's skeleton will be rather dull. But I promise to flesh it out quite nicely. And with that, I will go back to attempting to entertain the rag tag oddballs who seem to enjoy my stories and photos.<br />
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So to use one my least favorite govie terms: "Watch this space."<br />
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-23700031366479093942015-04-14T11:03:00.000-04:002015-04-14T11:09:35.349-04:00Dear MamaA few years ago, my mother and I had a great falling out. It involved gourds and cupcakes decorated like women's genitalia. She slung insults that I could not abide and I asked her to never contact me again.<br />
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She insists on sending me the odd text to remind me of my siblings birthdays and ask for my father's number for the 100th time. She also sends emails of a religious nature. One was just an Eric Clapton video with the question, Did you know Eric Clapton is Catholic?<br />
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I got a bee in my bonnet this morning though. And sent this:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You believe that your god is all knowing. You believe your god has a plan for you. Then why are you praying? Are you questioning his decision making?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Your god is clearly sadistic. He knew he was creating murderers and rapists and pedophiles. He knew all this and on purpose, he made them. He made child molesters *on purpose*. And you want to pray for mercy to a god that knew men would rape children and yet made them anyway? He made the men that raped a little girl so violently, she ended up in a wheel chair and with multiple fistulas. How are you going to help her? Pray that he quits making rapists?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Don't even start with "God allows". Don't talk to me about free will. If you believe your god is omnipotent. If you believe he is all knowing. If you believe he has a plan for everyone, then you should quit insulting him with your constant questioning of his plans. Stop asking for guidance, because he will guide where you need to be. Which may be into the hands of a rapist, because he made that rapist with full knowledge of every woman and child he would hurt. Quit insulting your all knowing god.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Like a lot of people, at one time, I half believed out of fear. Thankfully I freed myself of that slavery. And found that I could do a lot more good in the world if, instead of spending time convincing an omnipotent god to change his mind, I started actually doing something.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You spend hours praying for things that you may get and you may not, and then chalk it up to "God's Will". How about you spend hours helping someone. Screaming into the ether is just that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At the very least, quit hoping that one day I'll buy into your fairy tales. We had a conversation a while back, in which you insulted me heavily and I asked you never to contact me again. You didn't for a while, but somehow have decided that sending religious emails doesn't count. Stop it. It is seriously counter-productive.</span><br />
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-52467676287963038962015-02-06T11:15:00.002-05:002015-02-06T11:20:52.222-05:00Zombies. As classified by the U.S. Government (sort of)<b><br /></b>
<b>(apologies for the formatting. it was actually worse. this is as much time as i am willing to put into fixing it.)</b><br />
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<b>(U) ZOMBIE THREAT SUMMARY</b><br />
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6. (U) Zombie threat summary:<br />
a. (U) CONPLAN 8888 is designed to address the following types of zombie threats:<br />
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<b>i. (U) Pathogenic Zombies (PZ):</b><br />
1. (U) PZ's are zombie life forms created after an organism is infected by a virus or bacteria or<br />
some other form of contagion<br />
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<b>ii. (U) Radiation Zombies (RZ):</b><br />
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1. (U) RZ's are zombie life forms created after an organism is infected by a extreme dosage of<br />
electromagnetic and/or particle radiation<br />
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<b>iii. (U) Evil Magic Zombies (EMZ):</b><br />
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1. (U) EMZ's are zombie life forms created via some form of occult experimentation in what<br />
might otherwise be referred to as "evil magic"<br />
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<b>iv. (U) Space Zombies (SZ):</b><br />
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1. (U) SZ's are zombie life forms originating from space or created by toxic contamination of<br />
the earth environment via some form of extra-terrestrial toxin or radiation<br />
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2. (U) "Zombie satellites" can be classified as SZ's, however they pose no danger to humans<br />
(unless they conduct an unplanned de-orbit). Typically, zombie satellites only pose a threat<br />
the SATCOM services like DirectTV (Refer to Galaxy 15 incident-May 2010)<br />
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<b>v. (U) Weaponized Zombies (WZ):</b><br />
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1. (U) WZ's are zombie life forms deliberately created via bio/bio-mechanical engineering for<br />
the purpose of being employed as weapons. Zombie weaponization programs and supporting<br />
infrastructures are included in COAs to deal with these threats.<br />
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2. (U) The movie "The Crazies" exemplifies the most common type of WZ (humans turned<br />
into zombies via exposure to toxic chemicals/gasses)<br />
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<b>vi. (U) Symbiant-Induced Zombies (SIZ):</b><br />
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1. (U) SIZ's are zombie life forms originating from the introduction of a symbiant life form into<br />
an otherwise healthy host. Although the symptoms of symbiant zombieism is similar in most<br />
regards to pathogenic zombeism, the symbiant does not kill the host organism quickly, or at all.<br />
However, there is no known way to save an organism after zombiesm has occurred-even if the<br />
symbiant is removed.<br />
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<b>vii. (U) Vegetarian Zombies (VZ):</b><br />
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1. (U) VZ's are zombie life forms originating from any cause but pose no direct threat to<br />
humans because they only eat plant life (as indicated in the popular game "Plants Vs.<br />
Zombies"). Although VZ's do not attack humans or other animal life, they will consume all<br />
plant life in front of them. They can cause massive de-forestation or elimination of basic food<br />
crops essential to humans (rice, corn, soybeans).<br />
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2. (U) Of note, where normal carniverouse zombie commonly groan the word "brains" semicomprehensibly,<br />
VZ's can be identified by their aversion to humans, affinity for plants and their<br />
tendency to semi-comprehensibly groan the word "grains".<br />
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<b>viii. (U) Chicken Zombies (CZ)</b><br />
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1. (U) Although it sounds ridiculous, this is actually the only proven class of zombie that<br />
actually exists.<br />
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2. (U) CZ's were first documented in Jonathan M. Forrester's 4 Dec 2006 online article<br />
"Zombie Chickens Taking Over California".<br />
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3. (U) CZ's occur when old hens that can no longer lay eggs are incorrectly euthanized by<br />
poultry farmers using carbon monoxide. The hens are then deposited in large piles to<br />
decompose. The hens appear to be dead when buried, but inexplicably come back to life and dig<br />
themselves out from the piles of dead chickens. After reaching the surface, CZ's stagger about<br />
for a period of time before ultimately expiring due to internal organ failure.<br />
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4. (U) CZ's are simply terrifying to behold and are likely only to make people become<br />
vegetarians in protest to animal cruelty. They appear to be no direct threat to humans. They are<br />
different from WZ's because they are the result of actions taken to kill a living organism vice<br />
actions taken to deliberately re-animate dead organisms or impair life functions to a minimal<br />
function.<br />
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Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-14876377021147025442015-02-02T09:32:00.000-05:002015-02-02T09:32:58.596-05:00SportsBowl!!<br />
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I got pretty into the PigSkin last night. And by that, I mean I ate some pigskins while watching the last 5 minutes of the SportsBowl. Of course, that was sportsing minutes, so it was probably a good 20 minutes of real time. <br />
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As far as I can tell, one team must have pointed at the sky better and blessed their pre game protein shakes in a more appropriate manner than the other. The other was probably relying on the "Wishing Boot". Maybe Jesus just prefers Merkans (The Nationalists) to the Native Americans (the Birds). At one point, I think one of the guys yelled, "JESUS TAKE THE BALL!" because then the other sportsing team'sb guy kind of just handed it to him. He probably had really good sky pointing skills that got JC's attention. He then spent the rest of the game continuing to point at the sky and cry. I feel like that was a little bragadocio, I mean, Jesus took the ball, not you friend. Then someone stepped on JC's hippie skids and he started throwing punches and all hell broke loose.<br />
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So I didn't see any of the commercials. And I totally missed Missy Elliot's "surprise" (not) performance. So feel free to find me a video of that.<br />
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-88110442332831582432015-01-27T21:39:00.001-05:002015-01-27T21:39:23.257-05:00A smattering of takeaways from a talk on disaster recovery<br />
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I went to a talk tonight on tangibly rebuilding after an International Disaster. Some good takeaways for risk assessment anywhere, not just from a building/urban planning perspective. After 20 minutes exalting the presenters and all their collective colleges and universities, making sure to carefully massacre each name, the presentations actually started.<br />
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Regarding preparation, for just about anything, "Be open to scales that you can't imagine." In this case, while history and all your prediction technology shows earthquakes shouldn't be higher than 4.3 in a particular area, imagine if they were larger, and then plan for even larger. This lesson can obviously be applied to any number of scenarios. You have an event in a room with a capacity of 300. You allow 500 people to RSVP, "knowing" that at least 40 percent won't turn up. But what if they do? What if your event is suddenly picked up by the local paper and 2000 show up? Conversely, what if there is a freak storm, and you can't reschedule, and 30 people show up? Do you have a contingency plan for a larger crowd? Did you include the words "RSVP does not necessarily guarantee attendance" to mitigate angry persons turned away? Do you have a way to broadcast over the internet to assist in either aforementioned scenario?<br />
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Another takeaway, "Compliance is better than enforcement." In other words, it's better that the rules are followed without you needing to slap someone on the palm with a ruler, metaphorically or literally. How do you get buy-in? How do you, not only convince someone they have to do something, but that they <b>want</b> to do something? <br />
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Specific to this talk was convincing someone that your way was better. How do you convince the people of Nepal, the people of Haiti, to change how they build their houses. Households make decisions about their own risk based on their *perception* of their own risk. Often they don't know there is a risk (there is only one way to build a house, so there are no options, therefore collapse is not a risk, it's an inevitability) or if they recognize the risk, they don't know what to do about it. Or maybe they know what to do about it, but do not possess the socioeconomic means to mitigate said risk. <br />
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So you have to first convince a person there is a risk. In this example, if they have no reason to know that there is another way to build, why should they believe you when you tell them there is? Especially if you tell them the cost is going to be higher. So now you have to convince them that, A: there is another way, they don't have to just accept that their family are likely to die in an earthquake and B: this is a priority. That second part is likely going to be much harder than the first and involve a lot more psychology. While you can use models and demonstrations to convince someone that there is a better way to build, how will you convince them that it should be a priority to do so, when they have only lived through one earthquake, when most people have the, "It couldn't happen again" mentality. <br />
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Another takeaway: organizational cooperation is like learning to dance together, even when you're dancing at different beats or to different songs entirely. If you have to work with another person, if your office has to work with another office, if your entire multinational organization needs to work with another multinational organization, find out how they dance. And share how you dance. There is a lot said about cultural awareness, understanding, and appreciation. But that doesn't just have to be about the cultures of another nation. It can be the business culture of the other office. A more relaxed management style versus a more rigid one. Maybe there is someone leading the dance. But maybe it's a matter of learning how to dance in the same space without taking someone's head off or knocking over a table of drinks.<br />
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-29906179755512688082015-01-27T10:08:00.001-05:002015-01-27T10:59:07.995-05:00Beer lovers<br />
If that last video left you a little melancholy, I present Hipsters Love Beer.<br />
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I love beer. I really do, and I'm really picky. Which is kind of unfortunate. So I mostly drink whiskey and cider unless there is something I have to try. But I do try not to be a dick about it. Maybe I should start trying... "This really has a placenta quality" ... "This would be great for sea world" ... "I can't even feel my appendix right now."<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KWBV7yKWhWE" width="480"></iframe><br />
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-52769038018930081042015-01-27T09:43:00.001-05:002015-01-27T09:43:44.682-05:00"Is he dark enough, enough to see your light"<br />
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Damien Rice is one of my favorite singer songwriters of all time. I love his voice, I love his cadence, I love his lyrics. Sometimes overtly dark and sexual, sometimes a little more veiled. I was listening this morning to his older albums on shuffle and this song struck me. Probably because it's relevant to more than one relationship in my life. At parts I'm the singer and at parts I'm the person he sings to. </div>
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This is a video of a recording at KCRW. The sound is pretty great for a radio station recording, the video quality is pretty poor, but maybe that is appropriate. The DJ jumps in at the last bit to jarringly remind you this was live radio, but it's still a great recording. Lyrics below.</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/J7nHy_zAL50" width="459"></iframe><br />
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<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">
Well, I held you like a lover, happy hands<br />
Your elbow in the appropriate place<br />
And we ignored our others, happy plans<br />
For that delicate look upon your face</div>
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Our bodies moved and hardened<br />
Hurting parts of your garden<br />
With no room for a pardon<br />
In a place where no one knows what we have done</div>
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<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">
Do you come together ever with him?<br />
And is he dark enough, enough to see your light?<br />
And do you brush your teeth before you kiss?<br />
Do you miss my smell?</div>
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<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">
And is he bold enough to take you on?<br />
Do you feel like you belong?<br />
And does he drive you wild or just mildly free?<br />
What about me?</div>
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<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">
Well, you held me like a lover, sweaty hands<br />
And my foot in the appropriate place<br />
And we use cushions to cover, happy glands<br />
In the mild issue of our disgrace</div>
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<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">
Our minds pressed and guarded<br />
While our flesh disregarded<br />
The lack of space for the light-hearted<br />
In the boom that beats our drum</div>
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<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">
And I know I make you cry<br />
I know sometimes you wanna die<br />
But do you really feel alive without me?<br />
If so, be free, if not, leave him for me</div>
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Before one of us has accidental babies<br />
For we are in love</div>
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Do you come together ever with him?<br />
And is he dark enough, enough to see your light?<br />
And do you brush your teeth before you kiss?<br />
Do you miss my smell?</div>
<div class="verse" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: proxnov-reg, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;">
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And is he bold enough to take you on?<br />
Do you feel like you belong?<br />
And does he drive you wild or just mildly free?<br />
What about me? What about me?</div>
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Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-69688228289516639612015-01-23T08:31:00.001-05:002015-01-23T08:33:12.361-05:00Life on a Shoestring<div>
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I had a terrible nightmare last night that I was trekking the Amazon with improper footwear...</div>
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We started off on a long metal raft. Whooshing down the river. No one fell off, which was an amazement. You just laid on the 6inch thick metal panel and grabbed onto any bar you could. For some reason I was wearing casual/dressy sandals. Of course I lost one in the river. We got to the put out, again, having lost no one. And I realize I forgot my hiking boots. So now I'm barefoot for this jungle trek. So back on the raft. Two hours later, I return to the put out only to see that I in fact had packed two pairs of Chacos that would have worked just fine.</div>
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Stress dreams. That I don't have proper shoes for future potential life changes...and that I'm really bad at fully checking a situation before making decisions. Send me your dreams, I'll read them. <br />
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Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-78042852190527236822015-01-22T16:32:00.001-05:002015-01-22T16:32:05.371-05:00Dolly Parton - Just Because I'm A Woman<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lz_ejQbDoS0" width="459"></iframe></div>Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-39635018028136397722015-01-22T12:40:00.002-05:002015-01-22T12:40:24.809-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Prior to last weekend, I had been to NYC twice. I came away with the opinion that it was a dirty, disease infested place with no redeeming qualities. The first part mostly still stands. But there are some redeeming qualities I found.</div>
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I had been thinking about giving NYC another shot, but by myself. On my terms. But it was just a thought kicking around the back of the ole skull. One day, at the local hardware store, I ran into a Georgian man. I grilled him about Georgian bread and his thoughts on the options in D.C. He immediately rejected the possibility of finding a good one here and told me I had to go to NYC. That thought kicking around got a little bigger. Then Amtrak sent me a sale flyer to NYC. So I jumped. And I made a map of all (literally all) of the Georgian restaurants in NYC. I picked an AirBnB somewhere in between the two main areas. That was about all the planning I did. I found a few gigs to catch if I had the time and I packed a change of clothes.</div>
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A shot from the train:</div>
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Somewhere in Brooklyn:</div>
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Veselka is a Ukrainian diner. Excellent Borscht, though I can't vouch for the authenticity.</div>
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I had planed to go to a handful of Georgian spots. I ended up going to two. The first was the one the man at the hardware store suggested. Oda House. They had a list of about 8-10 Georgian breads. I grabbed a friend and her boyfriend and we ordered 4 kinds. </div>
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This is the Phenovani and another corn bread type one with walnut sauce.</div>
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Adjaruli with the egg</div>
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Megruli - Stuffed with cheese, topped with cheese. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? No. It's amazing.</div>
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Manhattan Graffiti</div>
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"Don't worry, everything is going to be amazing."</div>
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Over Gowanus</div>
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Doughnut from Dough. Not a lot in this part of Clinton Hill/Bed-Stuy, but damn if this isn't the best doughnut I've ever had.</div>
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-10495202523475550232015-01-17T22:41:00.004-05:002015-01-18T08:36:54.896-05:00 invisible driver <div class="MsoNormal">
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Flying is not civilized.
I feel like at some point in our history it was. It went from a very dangerous pipe dream to a
standard mode of transportation. As
Drunk Uncle points out, people used to get dressed up to fly. Now, it’s simply, how many bodies can we cram
into this tin can. Got a shoehorn? We’ll fit one more. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Trains. Trains are
the only easily assessable civilized method of transportation. I might argue that a hot air balloon is a
rather civilized method, but this is certainly not easily accessible. Boats can be fairly civilized, assuming you
have 2 weeks to get somewhere and your party does not fall victim to the latest
stomach bug craze. If you aren’t on an
overcrowded train that requires you arrive or depart at some ungodly hour, it’s
likely the most comfortable method to get to Aunt Sally’s or to see that band
that will only play 3 shows a year and it’s in some fancy ass city you don’t
live in. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Often, you can easily claim two seats together. Likely, you have some source of power for
your all-important gadgets. Turbulence
may be more frequent, but hey!, you’re on the ground! No one is telling you when you are allowed to
use the bathroom. No one asks you to
take your shoes off, to check inside your hat, or to submit to superman’s x-ray
underwear viewing machines. You don’t
have to buy tiny overpriced toiletries.
You don’t have to pay 7 dollars for a bottle of water. You can bring whatever food and beverage you
care to. I imagine they wouldn't take
kindly to putting out a bottle of Jack, but who knows.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-74584680135923158432015-01-13T09:08:00.003-05:002015-01-13T09:09:05.150-05:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am trying to get rid of all my DVDs. I have maybe 20 still. That is probably 15 too many.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> DVDs and books.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> You should only keep those that you really plan to read/watch again. Otherwise, you are making your ability to enter witness protection quickly, very difficult. Also, surely if you liked a book/DVD, a friend would as well, so pass on the enjoyment. Double Mint Gum.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-54813662246711232492015-01-12T09:20:00.000-05:002015-01-22T13:12:34.187-05:00<br />
<br />
i was reminded today of an important text i read. not an old text. from 1999. notes from what was likely a heavy drinking session rather than a formal meeting as the introduction would lead you to believe. <br />
<br />
important words on travel from Daniel Kalder:<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #ead1dc;"><br /><br /><br /> From THE SHYMKENT DECLARATIONS<br /><br /><br />(Excerpts from the resolutions passed at the first international congress of Anti- Tourists <br />at the Shymkent Hotel, Shymkent, Kazakhstan, October 1999)<br /><br /><br />As the world has become smaller so its wonders have diminished. There is nothing <br />amazing about the Great Wall of China, the Taj Mahal, or the Pyramids of Egypt. They <br />are as banal and familiar as the face of a Cornflakes Packet.<br /><br />Consequently the true unknown frontiers lie elsewhere. <br /><br />The duty of the traveller therefore is to open up new zones of experience. In our over <br />explored world these must of necessity be wastelands, black holes, and grim urban <br />blackspots: all the places which, ordinarily, people choose to avoid.<br /><br />The only true voyagers, therefore, are anti- tourists. Following this logic we declare that:<br /><br />The anti-tourist does not visit places that are in any way desirable.<br /><br />The anti-tourist eschews comfort.<br /><br />The anti-tourist embraces hunger and hallucinations and shit hotels.<br /><br />The anti-tourist seeks locked doors and demolished buildings.<br /><br />The anti-tourist scorns the bluster and bravado of the daredevil, who attempts to<br /><br />penetrate danger zones such as Afghanistan. The only thing that lies behind this is<br /><br />vanity and a desire to brag.<br /><br />The anti-tourist travels at the wrong time of year. <br /><br />The anti-tourist prefers dead things to living ones.<br /><br />The anti-tourist is humble and seeks invisibility.<br /><br />The anti-tourist is interested only in hidden histories, in delightful obscurities, in bad art.<br /><br />The anti-tourist believes beauty is in the street.<br /><br />The anti-tourist holds that whatever travel does, it rarely broadens the mind.<br /><br />The anti-tourist values disorientation over enlightenment.<br /><br />The anti-tourist loves truth, but he is also partial to lies. Especially his own. </span></span> Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-91820335607375522872015-01-12T09:17:00.002-05:002015-01-12T09:17:17.354-05:00<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; line-height: 13.9636354446411px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; line-height: 13.9636354446411px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; line-height: 13.9636354446411px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">i made lasagna on thursday. i have basically eaten nothing but since. no complaints really. today is monday. i hate it. i am garfield.</span></span>Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-34090029561418103242015-01-09T08:25:00.003-05:002015-01-09T08:25:49.027-05:00Beckistan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-82843416186098185192015-01-06T21:25:00.004-05:002015-01-06T21:26:30.448-05:00Feeds fer yer Face<br />
<br />
Double Bacon Cheeseburger Meatloaf<br />
<br />
Click the Pic<br />
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<a href="http://www.theslowroasteditalian.com/2014/04/bacon-double-cheeseburger-stuffed-meatloaf-recipe.html"><img src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-xaf1/v/t1.0-9/10300086_429098213920607_8625163474563875164_n.jpg?oh=3cc74ca034e435a92528ef2d546e56c4&oe=55303E3A&__gda__=1428349835_a79a39e55a689ee662d465160079498b" /></a>Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-78693082980492223642015-01-06T20:22:00.002-05:002015-01-06T20:22:58.924-05:00A Super<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-89510213739951547992015-01-06T20:21:00.001-05:002015-01-06T20:21:28.615-05:00I cannot help your cat.<br />
<br />
I work in the Office of Lost Merkans. Part of my job is to manage a public facing email box. Most inquiries range from mundane, legitimate questions about legitimate documents ( or at least the idea of a document, whether they intend to acquire legitimate documents is above my pay grade ) to heartbreaking pleas for help. Then there are the people that think they are Elvis' child, Miley Cyrus' mother, or the leader of the KGB ( while simultaneously being married to Joe Biden and working for the CIA. ) <br />
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Today I got one that really fell in the middle. Again, I work in the Office of Lost Merkans. Not the Office of Confused Kiwis or the Office of Bewildered Brits. Not the Bureau of Cantankerous Canucks or the Cabinet of Beleaguered Belges. Today I received a letter from a Ukrainian, living in Sweden, going to Turkey. On a boat. With her cat. Now, she didn't specify the nationality of the cat, but I think you'll forgive me for assuming the cat was not a Merkan. This lady had, what was probably a legitimate question. For anyone but me. She wanted to know what kind of documents she needed to bring her cat into Turkish waters. I assume she meant crossing the imaginary line from international waters into those under Turkey's jurisdiction and not just permission to give her cat a bath in Istanbul. Regardless, why me? Why the Office of Lost Merkans? And to be even more specific, the actual email box is for the Office of Lost Merkan Children. I mean, I get that her cat is probably like her child, but it's still not a Merkan. <br />
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So I penned a response...which of course, I will not send:<br />
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<span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$0:0">Dearest Non-Merkan,</span><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$1:0" /><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$3:0" /><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$4:0">Your cat shall obtain diplomatic immunity when the top sail of your yacht has crossed the international waterline of Turkey. However, should you choose to go to the Asian part of Turkey, you will need to acquire a Visa for the ca</span></span><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$0:0">t, per the Cucumber and Feta treaty of 1917, which is still on the books in certain parts of Turkey. Humans of course do not, but you did not request information on human travel.</span><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$1:0" /><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$3:0" /><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$4:0">In order to obtain said visa, please take 3 toenail clippings of the cat to the nearest Turkish Embassy in Sweden. Once thorough DNA testing has been completed to determine that your cat is in fact a cat, and certainly not a wallaby or a beetle, the visa will be issued to you. All cats must wear their feline passports in a waistbelt. Please do not attempt to retrofit a human waistbelt, you must buy a feline waistbelt in a horrid shade of beige. If your cat is caught in the Asian part of Turkey without said passport in said beige waistbelt, you risk the cat being taken as property of the state as all feline diplomatic immunity is forfeited when you pass into Asian Turkey.</span><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$5:0" /><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$7:0" /><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$8:0">Speaking from experience, this may be the best option for the cat. Once taken as property of the state, the cat will be fitted with a small velvet hat and tiny velvet shoes. It will be kept in a compound exclusively for such well travelled felines and fed a daily portion of fish and wine. You, however, will never see the cat again.</span><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$9:0" /><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$11:0" /><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$12:0">As this is the law of the land, aka a sovereign nation, you must abide by the laws. If you choose to ignore said sovereign nation's laws, the consequences are yours alone, and neither Sweden nor the U.S. nor your own country need come fix your problems. You are a grownup, albeit, one with questionable rational capabilities.</span><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$13:0" /><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$15:0" /><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$16:0">Best to you on your sea voyage with feline. Don't forget the waistbelt!</span><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$17:0" /><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$19:0" /><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$20:0">Sincerely,</span><br data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$21:0" /><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$22:0">Office of Lost Merkans</span></span></span><br />
<span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$22:0"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$22:0"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3" style="background-color: #f6f7f8; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15.3599996566772px;"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0"><span data-reactid=".1q.1:3:1:$comment10101484633953748_10101484648769058:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$22:0">.</span></span></span>Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-29982156053221944772015-01-06T19:57:00.000-05:002015-01-06T19:58:32.603-05:00Warming up the engine.Got back into my Facebook. Wasn't terribly difficult obviously. Still not 100% who turned me in for nominal chicanery, but I've taken a few precautions.<br />
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I have, however, uninstalled the app from my phone. Facebook in an incredible tool for keeping connections around the world. The same tool can break down closer connections. For me, it's just too much of a distraction. So I have it open when I'm on my computer, but, for now at least, it's not ringing directly to my phone when I'm away from my computer.<br />
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This year I hope to make a major shift. Geographically. It's in the works, I hope, and if it happens, I'll have more to write about than daily annoyances of DC. <br />
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But in the meantime, perhaps some of those can be amusing...Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-73518128819675314902014-12-31T10:32:00.003-05:002014-12-31T10:32:38.247-05:00<br />
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This is why I'm working tonight....<br />
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<br />Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-71837923323573044772014-12-31T09:20:00.000-05:002014-12-31T09:20:02.600-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-68017464831723633872014-12-31T08:38:00.001-05:002014-12-31T08:45:14.593-05:00Facebook....It broke. Or rather, I was "outted" as a fake and a fraud... Yes it's true. My name is not, in fact, Becka Moreorless. I guess that little creativity was really causing harm in the world and someone got butthurt. I have a guess who that someone is. Of course it's someone I don't know. That's often how these things go. The comic that often parallels my life posted this this morning:<br />
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<img src="http://40.media.tumblr.com/9c5179c7c0f570566f1d6b4cff92ce0b/tumblr_nhffwl7I5Y1qa4karo1_1280.jpg" height="211" width="400" /><br />
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It's true. I was actually not, as the cartoon so eloquently puts, "a butthole" to anyone yesterday. Alas.Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-28848467165387855012012-12-15T11:06:00.000-05:002012-12-15T11:49:32.207-05:00I try not to complain without having some suggestion as to a solution.<br />
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I'm not settled on where I stand on gun control.<br />
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"Stricter Regulations" get's thrown around a lot.<br />
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That's such a vague statement though. Stricter regulations. It's easy to say. What kind of regulations?<br />
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Here's one small thought ( the fullness of information has not been released in the most recent incident, this may not be completely relevant, please don't let that stop you from pondering the idea) :<br />
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It seems so often that the weapons used in crimes are stolen or borrowed, or otherwise obtained from someone who did legally and sanely purchase them. <br />
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When I worked at the Boys and Girls Club, we took the kids to the pool during the summer. The last summer I worked, the pool made us watch a video of a child drowning. I think about that video a lot. He was under water for several minutes before anyone noticed.<br />
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What does this have to do with gun control?<br />
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I don't want to suggest that we require people to lock their guns up. That could only be implemented with house checks. No one wants that. But I would suggest, that in order to purchase a gun, any gun, any where; that you be exposed to the kinds of crimes committed with borrowed or stolen weapons. You would be given information and suggestions on the best ways to lock up your guns. Stories about the victims, the families, etc. Video of real interviews, and information from instructors that aren't trying to sell you a gun.<br />
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If you keep weapons in your home. If you share that information with others. If you don't take precautions to insure that your son's weird friend Jim doesn't sneak in and take them, you are in some way responsible for what that kid does with that weapon. I think people put more effort into locking up their booze than they do their guns.<br />
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This won't save everyone, but there are enough cases that it is worth looking into. If you want to keep an item in your house that can so quickly and easily end someone's life, it seems logical that you would want to be responsible about how and where you keep that item. Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-91594714987676621392012-09-14T09:46:00.000-04:002012-09-14T09:46:55.745-04:00it's friday?i shaved only one leg today. wait, i take that back. i shaved 3/4 of my legs today. one full leg and one thigh. i wish this came with a biscuit.Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3658503443492769476.post-27883030219453994412012-04-09T21:02:00.001-04:002012-04-09T21:02:37.501-04:00MemoiresIn conversation tonight I was relating a story to my roommate about getting in trouble for dropping the F bomb. Probably at the age of 4 or so. I realized as I was telling her this story, that this is most likely my first memory. There are a few others up for contention.<br />
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One contender, I had a dream once that I was walking down our long driveway at night. There were small signs along our walkway that said, "Witch Poker". (sidebar: people have told me repeatedly that you can't read in your dreams. BS.) The signs weren't ominous. Not that I knew anything about the VFW then, but it'd be like walking up to a VFW with bingo signs. So I went in my house, and there were witches, sitting around tables playing poker. An odd concept for a 3-5 year old.<br />
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Another potential memory, that later in life (maybe age 12?) I thought that I probably just read in a book. Which was the day my dad drove away for real. Not for real forever, he only moved just down the street; but the first day he drove away from my house after the seperation. And I watched him go up the driveway from the upstairs window. Or I didn't and a book superimposed the memory.<br />
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One time we went to a store, my mom, my stepdad, and I. Or maybe he was just the dude my mom was banging at that time. Anyway, there were these heart shaped rhinestones in a bowl at the cash register. You've seen them, you can buy them in little plastic baggies at Wal-Mart near the buttons. I put some in my pocket. When I got home, my mom found me playing with them and asked where I got them from. I think I said that my dad bought them. But she clearly recognized them from the store. She called my dad. Then she told me that I was going to jail. She said that one time she stole something and her dad told the store owner, and they locked her up in a jail cell in the back of the store over night. This all sounds a bit far fetched now, and maybe over the years it's embellished itself in my memory, but my mom is nuts, so it's plausible that she told me this.<br />
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Memories are pouring out now.<br />
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One time I took my moms round brush and tried to curl my hair with it. I thought that was how you did it. It got stuck. REALLY stuck. So I loudly threw myself on the floor and told my mom that I fell on the hair brush and that's how it got stuck.<br />
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I asked my mom one day, why I had a waterbed. I didn't want one, so why did she give me one? I didn't understand what a waterbed was. Either me or my doll, or both, had wet the bed.<br />
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My mom had a picture of herself at about age 13, dressed as a hula girl, on her desk (narcissistic?). It looked just like me. I could never figure out how my mom got a picture of me from the future.<br />
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I used to walk around with an old polaroid making "Chk Chk" sounds everywhere.<br />
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I desperately wanted to be a cowboy. Then Ms. Kitty. Then a spy. <br />
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My dad lived in a duplex near the woods. A neighbor girl older than me told me that a witch lived in the house behind my dad, and that she ate men. I don't think I ever told my dad that, but I was terrified. Also, I remember the little girls mom telling me not to chew with my mouth open. For some reason, I never did again. Or at least worked on it after that.<br />
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When I was little, I had a habit of saying "Shucks". Yes, I actually said that. I learned how to read, or sound out words anyway, fairly early. One day my dad took me fishing. There was a bridge going over the river. A concrete bridge. Someone had put some graffiti on it. Nobody needed to tell me what it said. I could read it. I don't know that I knew what it meant. But when my dad brought me home, and my mom wouldn't let me do something I wanted to do, I decided to use my new word. I mean, I think it was pretty smart of me to read and realize it rhymed with my favorite word of annoyance. But my mom didn't think her 3-5 year old daughter, loudly exclaiming, "Fucks!" was very smart at all.Traveling Ciguapahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04885675948240317742noreply@blogger.com2