Common Sense Applied To Christianity.

Oh my, The Da Vinci Code movie is coming out and all radio religious is going stark-raving mad. "Should, or should you not go? (take your child, dog or x-mother-in-law?). To hear some folks talk about this book, to actually read it may turn you into a Satanist! A similar argument to: if you hang around homosexuals, you might turn into one. People Pa-lee-ee-se! Take a breath and sit down. Cybergal has some light to shed on all of this. Having the absolute ability to over react, I've already done that for you. I can save you much time, energy and angst.

Christianity takes a leap of faith to accept, or reject. To actually learn about Christianity, I suggest sitting down with a book called The Bible and slowly reading it. You can read it in a year, or read it in five years, depending on whose plan you follow. What I, or anyone else says about this, or any other subject, should be INVESTIGATED by you, before believing the opinion.

I hated all things Christian, but when I decided to actually give Jesus a chance, I started with the four Gospels and read them like I'd read any other story. I have to say, it is a story that is interesting, but a bit strange. Since I was a Baha'i' at the time, I had a lot of data from the Baha'i' viewpoint,showing how they were right and Christ was wrong.

I basically started over. Following The Baha'i' faith wasn't working any more and I really liked the part of Jesus work, where he healed people. I knew I was totally screwed-up and had no idea how to help myself, at the ripe old age of 25. My march to Jesus took over 5 years and was not smooth, or easy. Like most people who finally straggle up to an alter somewhere, I was broken inside, hopeless and desperate. Desperate enough to run naked down any street, if that would make things better. So before running naked, anywhere, I decided to try Jesus. (Real spiritual, right?)

I hate to work hard, so when Dr. Gene Scott held out the carrot of just listening to him talk about the Bible, instead of me reading it for myself, I went for it. After 14 years and a bankruptcy, mainly caused by hysterical religious giving, I decided to actually read the Bible for myself. (Yeah, stupid is as stupid does). Now, I'm at a healthy small church near my home and I'm having a wonderful time in the world of religion. But, I still read the Bible for myself, no matter how much I respect my pastor. A really good sign of a healthy church and or pastor, is one who encourages you to check out what they preach. The pastors and churches that don't want you to think for yourself, by questioning, or investigating their teachings are not good. Buyer Beware!

For those of us who are Christian, we've come to believe stuff about Jesus, God, the devil and life. If this 'stuff' is based on the Bible - the entire Old and New testaments, you are probably pretty stable when confronted with something like The Da Vinci Code, Holy Blood, Holy Grail, or The Jesus seminar. If you haven't been studying, or paying very close attention, these things can blow you right off balance.

Mainstream Christianity believes Jesus is divine and human at the same time. That he actually physically died at the crucifixion and then re-gained his physical life again at the Resurrection. A whole lot of people, some even claiming to be Christian, refuse to believe some, or all of the above. Numbers aren't the only thing which can be 'cooked' to render a lie. Research can be 'cooked' also. It basically comes down to who are you going to believe?

If I look at you, wave my hand over your head and tell you that you are giving off 'cancer' vibrations, I would hope you'd ignore me. If, however, your Medical Doctor says that you have a malignant brain tumor, I'd hope you'd pay very serious attention to that information. The difference is the credibility of the source.

While it may be true, that I can detect a 'cancer' vibration, the chance of it being reliable is very small. The chance that your doctor and hospital completely mistake several test results, all pointing to a brain tumor is also slim. Again, who is the most reliable source of information?

One study says caffeinated coffee is good for you, while another study says it is bad for you. Some guy on late night talk radio claims the Queen of England is really part of an alien race, which appear to be six-foot-tall reptiles. This last story is completely ignored by even the way-out-there press. Who are you going to believe? We all know this, until someone writes something about Jesus Christ.

We all believe that religion and love are similar. Both are effortless to obtain and maintain. Both will last forever. Love is a commitment and a lot of work. Religion is also a commitment and requires life-long upkeep. Salvation is indeed free, but the upkeep is a job you will have for the rest of this life, as you slowly lose more of the 'old' you and take on more of the 'new' Jesus-like you.

I have a lot of atheist friends and find much real pleasure in kicking Christianity around with them. They always come up with questions I never thought of and answers which make us all laugh, at times. When one of my atheist friends proclaims they've found a book 'proving' that Jesus isn't God, I'll read it, but I take it with a grain of salt. Sure, when you throw out 85% of the New testament, what you are left with doesn't look too divine, but why would I choose to do that?

When my pastor gives me a book, as part of a class, and tells me to read it, I am open and trusting. Why? I assume this person wants to assist me on my spiritual journey. One of the most devastating mistakes I made, was trusting a pastor, who rejected 85% of the New testament. Now, I'm a bit less open, no matter who recommends a book.

The Jesus seminar took the New testament and 'blackballed' anything they felt violated scientific law. (any miracle, etc.) and actually rejected around 85% of the Gospel accounts. With that set of assumptions, they concluded that the Bible has no more authority then any other book. Since I believe The Bible was divinely inspired, I give it far more weight, then I do to the latest 'how to get organized' book. I had to learn not only what I believe, but why I believe it.

I really have a problem with The Da Vinci Code. Since it is a very well crafted 'who done it?" story, it moves fast and captures and sustains your full attention. What I hate about this book is the claim that the 'research' is accurate. And I'm related to the Tooth Fairy! Dan Brown doesn't make one or two little errors, but inflates reality, or ignores it completely, consistently throughout his anti-Christian rant. It is a free country. I think you all should read the book and probably skip the flick. I've heard it is not nearly as good as the book. Many fine books have trouble making the transition to the silver screen. Check out the claims.

One example, are there 666 panes of glass in the pyramid outside the Louvre, or are there 673 panes of glass? This could have indeed been a typo, but there are many other 'lose' ends in this book. I dare you to read that book and then spend several weeks reading the 4 gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. There are amazing errors committed by the so-called British historian.

Now, who cares? Why does it matter? Because, I believe we humans have a 50 year span of time to answer one question that will determine our eternal destiny. Yes, it is a test, but it is an open book test, and you have 50 years, give, or take, to accomplish the task.

Some of you don't believe there is an eternity, yeah, that is a leap of faith also, but what if you are betting on the wrong horse and spend eternity in 'the smoking section'? That was what made me seriously consider religion at all. Sure, if this is all there is, let's make the most of it, get mine and to hell with you. But, what if there is an eternity, we can't perceive, like we can't normally see electricity? Be careful about the assumptions you make to rule your life, it is a true drag, when you realize that you have basically 'wasted' most of your precious time being a fool.

Here's my reasoning on the time of the big test. Figure most of us live 70+ years. I figure the first 20 are the prep time for the test. Getting the skills we need to do this long open book test. 70 minus 20 yields 50 years of time to answer one question. Are you all ready?

"Who do you say I am?"

Jesus Christ speaking.

You have two choices.

1. The only real God, proved by the claim and fulfillment of the Resurrection. Therefore Jesus is The Lord of my life.
2. Not divine, any path leads to God, therefore I don't have to worry about it.

Its an open book test, but I'd be careful which opinion I'd bet on. The Da Vinci Code is entertaining FICTION, but a very bad source about who Jesus Christ is.

How Do I Prove I'm NOT Abusing My Medication?

I take 2 psychiatric and one heartburn medication every day. I absolutely don't remember the names of these medications. The two psychiatric medications are both restricted. People have been known to use them as 'party' drugs. I am given 100 generic Prozac at a time, but the tricyclic anti-depressant is restricted to 30 tablets at a time. Needless to say, I'm down refilling something every 30 days.

I also tend to forget which pill is what drug. I usually just bring in the empty bottle and that solves the problem. Today I made several really bad errors. 1) I left the empty bottle of the tricyclic at home and 2) assumed I could just remember what was what and the pharmacy would figure it out. No, no, very, very bad set of moves! As I said, I don't mess with medication. I do what I'm told, no more, no less. So, the thirty pills were gone again. I thought they were the generic Prozac. I told the pharmacists as much and within 10 minutes I was ready to leave, with new pills.

Then the Odyssey began: "are you taking more then one pill a day?"The clerk asks, while frantically interacting with her keyboard. I immediately realized I was in trouble. This is one of those situations like: "how long has it been since you stopped beating your spouse?" There is no win on answering that question. The very first thing an active drug abuser does, is to deny they are abusing drugs!

I patiently ran through my explanation and was told I had to see the pharmacist before they'd give me my pills. They didn't even ask for my co-payment, a really suspicious sign indeed. So, I'm confronted with a kind Japanese lady who begins to really grill me on my pill taking behavior. She kept asserting that I'd just had a 100 pills given to me on 3/29 and although they'd give me 30 more today, they wondered how I'd managed to go through so much medicine in a month. It finally hit me, that maybe they had refilled the wrong pill. Sure enough,once I corrected the error I'd made in the beginning of this transaction, I was again free to leave without any further special meetings. Man, I will NEVER, NEVER neglect to take my empty bottle of pills with me to my HMO again. I am thankful they care, and are careful. But, I had a real attention span trying to figure out how I'd prove I wasn't abusing my medication! Woo-Wee.

A Hospitalized Friend And The Grief Process.

A lazy Skype chat is interrupted yesterday, by a sad phone call from a friend. Her grown daughter fell in their home, severed an artery in her leg, spent a week in ICU, and now is in a regular hospital room. My friend doesn't know if her daughter will ever be able to walk again, or how long she'll have to remain in the hospital. I numbly make arrangements to go and see her daughter, calling the daughter on the phone and noting the tears in her voice.

It is now 5 AM and I've been scouring the net looking for how to be a good visitor. I suddenly realize that I'm in grief. I know from personal experience about some of what NOT to do when visiting someone who is ill. The usual stupid stuff, like, telling them your troubles, claiming you know how they feel or going into hyper-religion on them. But, I keep wanting to go back over the scary fact that this twenty-something gal may not be able to walk again. This is my grief work and I have to face it before seeing the daughter, or her mother. It just plain-old hurts.

Her mom and I have had a rocky on-again-off-again kind of relationship. I am no counselor, but this lady is driven by her own needs to try and make me into her counselor. So, I've hung back. I've always liked her daughter, but we've never really gotten to talk, as the daughter saw I was attempting to stay friends with her lovable, but at times, crazy-making mom. I know God will help me to be helpful tomorrow. From the research I've done, being a decent visitor is mainly about not staying too long and LISTENING. I remember the worst example of nurse-bedside-manner I've ever experienced.

I was at the blind school, in my thirties, finally learning how to use a white cane and all the rest of how to do life, if I ever lost my sight. I had the flu, but was also depressed over my complete inability to connect with people. The staff nurse comes in and sees me curled up with my Bible. I was so emotionally out of it, that I didn't read God's Word, but I slept with this bible in a zipper case. Everyone loved that Bible, and after she looks at it and hands it back to me, she asks:

"Why don't you have any friends?" (I believe there is a TV series: "Just Shoot Me")? That had to be the absolute worst thing this lady could have asked me. Fever and all, I fell into uncontrollable crying, which she couldn't and wouldn't deal with. So, she got up and left my room. I remember turning back to God, as suddenly, I was alone again! What a question!

Then there is the hysterical-religious approach. "No matter what... Be thankful, God is good." These things are both true, but not necessarily something I will utter tomorrow. If the daughter wants to pray to, or rage at God, I will listen and follow her lead. The last thing she needs is some fool who has no idea what she is feeling, wanting or needing, to turn super-spiritual on her.

It is interesting, that the sermon last night was on having the wisdom to know when to be quiet! My favorite proverb:

Prov. 17:28 Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.

I count my own blessings, that I have enough mental health to truly be available to listen to the concerns and pain of another person. It is one of the ways I say "thank you" to all God has done and is still doing for me.

Watching A Friend Fall In Lust.

I just did a thorough rereading of some email a friend shared with me. She is convinced that her life will become whole when she finds the person of her dreams, that (pseudo) psychics have told her about. (For a price, of course). If it was possible to complete a life via another person, I'd have done it by now. What I got for my effort was some of the best sex I've ever experience AND being beaten for two years. Batterers are charismatic, charming and other centered, until they capture you. Then they reveal their unbelievably selfish and out-of-control "true" nature.

People asked me why I chose to abandon everything I couldn't carry on my back, when I finally fled from this abusive relationship. It is simple. Because these people can be so charming, when it suits them, I was afraid of being enticed back, if I had any contact with this individual. I learned the hard way, that whirlwind, we're involved immediately, relationships are a recipe for pure disaster.

I have come to trust my platonic friendships as real, on-going and precious. I have come to trust my judgment, about how much to 'risk', with whom and when. Healthy people are cautious. They've been burned, and have seen others burned. Real anything takes time and effort. If you need a quick test for lust, try this. When you think about this person, are you interested in their thoughts, or do you just want to get naked somewhere with them and 'have at it"? We all have moments of temptation, but as someone said at church:

"There is a difference between a bird landing on your head or letting that bird hang around and build a nest in your hair". So true.

I am deeply saddened by where my friend appears to be headed. She has known this man, (via email, and phone) for less then a week and they are both discussing, erotica. She tried to slow him down and although he tried to temper his emotions for her benefit, he ended his email with: "kisses," Red flags are up and flying, but my friend doesn't want to hear about it. I have had a sad feeling about this gal for awhile, as I watch her psychic 'helpers' drag her ever deeper into the idea of getting her man, (complete with a physical description) and encouraging her continued travel down this path. It is really true, that money can buy almost anything. The one psychic who called my friend on her lopsided life-approach was completely rejected as being 'inexperienced'.

Here's the deal. Sex is the LAST piece of the relationship, not the appetizer. Religion knows this, hence the prohibition against out-of-marriage sex. See, us females release a hormone, the first time we have sex with a partner which gives us that "goofy" quality men are so mystified by. For the men, sex is NOT the same as for the female. After sex, a man is satisfied physically and when spiritually evolved, emotionally connected to his wife. But a man can have sex just for the physical release. Women aren't wired like that. We tend to want to "nest", and swoon. One comic put it perfectly:

"You totally lose your mind. He calls you up and leaves a message like: 'Gawd I hate these damn machines,' and hangs up. You collapse in romantic fantasies, until reality finally dawns and you are left asking yourself: 'what was I thinking?'"

Health proceeds slowly. Our over-sexed culture believes that to have sex, is like kicking the tires on a possible car purchase. God designed sex to be the capstone on a healthy pair of friends who have committed their lives to each other. The three good marriages I'm familial with ALL involve on-going effort for and towards each other. Lust is effortless, love is not a feeling, but a commitment of the will. I fear for my friend. As in so many other experiences watching people making my former mistakes, I feel old and a bit drained, as they innocently ignore my warning about the up-coming cliff. Telling me all the while that I'm wrong, as I watch them fall and disappear over the edge.

When Reality Is Scarier Than Fiction: What We Don't Know About Nano Technology

I will give you my bias now. When it comes to genetic engineering and nano technology I'm completely irrational and scared to death. I attempt to moderate this sense of doom by educating myself to what the learned men and women of real science are up to. For a long time, this has kept most of my drooling terror at bay, but, now, thanks to a pod cast of Science Friday for 4/28/06, I am completely over the edge. Today I speak of nano technology. (When I find out a similar condition exists for genetic engineering, I'll upload another tale of terror).

What is nano technology? It is non-living things which are man made that are so small, they can float around in your body without (supposedly), bothering your 'intruder' defenses, or your immune system. There is great hope for this world of tinsy. Medical critters which can cruise your blood stream and 'eat' up all that bad cholesterol, or other 'problems'. Tinsys which will 'eat' things like PCB's and other environmental scourges. The list of the potential 'good stuff' is long and (like all utopias) inviting, tempting and SHORT SIGHTED!

To my knowledge no man-made utopian scheme which has been tried by real people has worked as envisioned. Literature is full of these tales, fictional and otherwise. Science holds out the promise, that when they find something new, they will TEST IT before releasing it into the consumer marketplace. What will they test it for? Oh, small things like, will it accidentally kill you, if you use it? (poison). Will it kill you if you use it incorrectly? (eating a cosmetic, or a car wax). Over time, will it hurt you? (toxic buildup). These aren't unreasonable questions to ask. Like most of us I ASSUMED they weren't only being asked, but ANSWERED before new products were put out for us to use.

The scientists are checking, but only in a limited way, when it comes to these nano-things. They are checking to see if they irritate the lungs, if inhaled. Good, but they are using this stuff in dentistry (inside your mouth) and haven't checked if when you swallow, you are accidentally introducing them into your bloodstream through your stomach, or tissues on the way to your stomach! (Compared to this reality, no sci fi book I've ever read comes close to this level of fright).

What about cumulative buildup, over time. Maybe one filling won't bother you, but what about when your dentures, or bridge contain nanos? Lead builds up in the human body, with no way to get rid of it. I don't believe nanos leave us either, but, like real scientists I don't know for sure.

Add to this the comforting thought that the word 'nano' is being used as an advertising gimmick. Its presence on a label name, may just mean 'small'. Remember the problem of attempting to find milk without the growth hormone given to the cows? It was written into laws, that companies DID NOT have to declare whether or not this hormone was present or not. God, I love the free market! Same with genetically altered fruits and vegetables. They don't have to inform us if it is real, or 'wacko-tech'. Like everyone else, I've made the adjustment. I buy it, eat it and hope I don't sprout new body parts, on some bright future Friday morning.

We have nanos in dentistry, cosmetics, car wax and clothes. Man, buying second hand may not only be economically intelligent, it may save my life! I know, I'm being irrational and everything will be all right! Sure, can we talk about asbestos? I hearken back to a political campaign between Lyndon Johnson and some republican. Johnson's positive slogan was: "In your heart you know he's right". His opposition shot back: "In your gut, you know he's a nut". We are running way, way too far ahead of ourselves and I fear things I can't see, protect myself from and / or don't understand.

Humor: Getting Work The CyberGal Way.

I love listening and reacting to various pod casts. If I like them I bless their email, or comment message lines with some content from CyberGal. As a low vision person I have a laundry list of things I wish web designers would stop doing on the Internet. So, when I was asked my opinion, I ranted, raved and probably rambled in a long email discourse.

Like every other disabled person I've ever met, I've tried and tried, over and over to get self-sustaining, gainful employment. Well, I have some part-time work, but without my Social Security I'd be homeless really fast. But, I still crank out a resume, or cover letter from time to time, in that never die hope... You know, I practice interviewing skills, pack and repack a multi-colored parachute and generally attempt to be ready for that bright day when employment opportunity comes a'knocking.

All of this for naught. For naught I tell you! (This is so funny, I can hardly type it.). I got an email reply to the afore mentioned web-o-rant. I was asked if I wanted to be interviewed on the pod cast AND would I be willing to be available for a possible paid slot in a usability study. (If the customer will pay for the study, they will pay me to be a guinea pig!) My potential boss ends his correspondence with "What do you think?" All that work to get work! I've been wrong all along.

Those of you who've followed this blog awhile, have no doubt that when CyberGal has an opinion, I have no problem beating it to death, right? That the more frustrated I get the more humorous I tend to become, right? Now, I can relax!

Here are the steps to employment - The CyberGal Way:

• Shoot your mouth off.
• Accept a job!
  

And people don't think God has a sense of humor!

Thinking About Gratitude.

I have returned from paradise and am now spending the weekend at Maria and John's home for the purpose of cleaning their house for them. Remembering that amazing vacation makes my work easier! I am filled with thankfulness that I had such a great opportunity to experience a resort so lavish. I am thankful to have a bit of part-time work, in spite of several major disabilities. I'm very moved that Maria went shopping for my food (ice cream, bear claws and half and half) while forgetting to shop for herself and her husband! God love these people!

They left me with a refrigerator full of really yummy food - a European style noodles, ham, eggs and cheese dish I can't pronounce. Plus chili, part of a pizza, ice cream and bear claws for breakfast! Add to this, excellent gourmet ground coffee, should I choose to brew it up. The dog is happy I'm here and I get to choose my hours of labor. Never mind, also having the use of their computer. The final luxury is their bath tub, with an angled back, just like the bath tub at the Resort at Squaw Creek. For all of this, all I have to do is some housework - I even get paid! I thank God for their kindness and His goodness. Somehow, I think I'm getting the better deal out of this arrangement, but I do leave behind a clean house - yeah, life is good.

Adjusting To Recovery: A confusing, But Pleasant Journey

I receive an impassioned email from a friend discussing 'courage', 'grit' and 'determination'. The shocking thing, is the person being referred to is myself! I started tracking visitors to this blog on Dec. 18, 2005 and as of today I have seven-hundred-and-nineteen visitors! I do get a certain amount of attempted comment spam, but I'd guess it accounts for less then 2 percent of my traffic. I have repeat visits and you all hang around and actually take an average of two minutes and fourteen seconds to READ my content. That figure is actually low, as the timer doesn't count any time for those of you who just view one page. So, I take great pleasure in arguing with the current wisdom which proclaims that no one actually READS content any more, they simply scan. Ha-Za to all of my readers - an obviously above average group on all counts.

I am totally amazed at these numbers. This blog is my attempt to give a hand-up to the struggling abuse victim, who can't figure out why they are still acting really irrationally, when they 'know' better. I have produced what I wish I'd had when I was floundering around, seeking answers,like a fish out of water.

I am encountering success in an on-going fashion. No more of that 'hit-and-miss' stuff! There is a sarcastic expression that covers how I used to view my success:

Even a stopped clock is correct twice a day!

Now, my life has smoothed out. I have a new-found sense of courage to do new things and (ooh!) even risk making mistakes. (How many of us have been absolutely paralyzed by the sense that 'if I can't do it perfect, I ain't gonna do it'? No one learns anything without making errors. This is not to say I don't strive for excellence, but I realistically understand, that my first attempt at something new will happen differently then some task I've been practicing for years. Hello mental health.

I used to get so excited when my life started going right, I'd break out in a cold sweat and wait for a sink hole to open up underneath me. If you don't sabotage yourself, you will actually get used to having a life where major disasters (usually brought about by you) just don't happen any more. You will begin to 'trust' your new skills, social standing and accomplishments.

As I learn to really tell the truth - especially the hard truths I've 'copped' to in this blog, I am amazed at the opinions which come back to me from my friends. One of my pet peeves about the whole problem of child sexual (and every other kind of) abuse is how it not only reaches out to slap us around, but from time to time messes with our close friends. I get fighting mad over that one. I have stopped raging against the fact that all the abuse happened to me. When one of my healthy friends - who can't even imagine having sex with any child, let alone his own child, mentions having a stomach-churning reaction to some of my blog. I want to scream and throw things in anger.

My friend's reaction to this was to tell me that a) I don't hurt him - a fear I always carry, because the events in my background are so severe, b) I'm not responsible for his reactions and c) its his problem, not mine. To all of the above, I just have to put it in that box of "huh?", in my mind. God will eventually get it through my head what all of the above means. Somehow, I know I'm not responsible for everyone else's pain, but this is yet another symptom of being raised by narcissistic role models. I'm toying with the faith-step of 'daring' to believe that not being responsible for everyone else is really true! Man, that is so very appealing, I like the sense of relief, but I'm not totally 'there' yet.

People don't expect me to be perfect. They have foibles, and aren't taken aback when they see my foibles. It is okay to let people respect, admire and otherwise appreciate me, in whatever arena of life they are in. It is NOT okay for me to start taking credit for the results. When, if not for all the help God and others have given me to achieve success, I'd have nothing. Yes, I have some natural ability, but without the help and encouragement from others, not to mention the strength and child-training I've gotten from God, I'd not produce anything, except more confusion and personal despair.

I''ve discovered the joy of putting some 'safe' adventure into my life. I had so many traumatic events coming at me in childhood, I figured anything 'new' was probably bad and or dangerous. Now, that my life isn't like a bad soap opera, I realize I LOVE to explore new things. I love traveling somewhere I've never been before to partake in something at that location.

My next vacation will be in Boston, to see the Ig Nobel Prize Awards at Harvard, and the more serious academic research presentations of the awarded research given at MIT. I plan on waiting until October of 2007 because, I can save the money to fly back, stay in an up-scale Marriott, for three nights and pay for cabs, or other things I may need. I do not mind having a low income for most of my life, but I refuse to: 'go cheap' on a vacation!

As you continue on this journey, your bad days will become less severe and fewer, while your good days will become the norm, not 'a miracle from God'. You will get out of practice on old skills. Old stand-bys, such as throwing up every morning to greet the day, not from alcohol, just nerves. You will forget how to act normally while seeing people with missing heads, animals crawling out of walls or trees which walk! You will realize when you are straying from telling the truth, lying will no longer be 'second-nature'. You will become tired and eventually eliminate people from your life, who are trying to drag you back down to their unhealthier level. Best of all, you will realize you are really a part of the human race. Not only that, but a good part of that community, finally able to accept being loved and appreciated. Because, ultimately, recovery involves learning to accept yourself, warts and all.

The Resort at Squaw Creek, Squaw Valley, California: WOW!

CyberGal didn't go on a vacation - I went to another planet!

I have never experienced a surprise which absolutely disoriented me, but my suite at Squaw Creek totally blew me away. A huge three room affair, complete with a gas fireplace, kitchenette, bedroom with a huge executive desk, living room / dining room combination and a bathroom! This was no ordinary bathroom. A completely separate bath tub and shower. The shower sported two shower heads. Makes every other shower I've been in feel like well, you know, below this standard. I had three closets! Friends, this was like eight of my rooms put together, outfitted with granite tile, wood trim, with the beautiful afternoon sun streaming through the two windows and even a dishwasher in a drawer!

Not wishing to demonstrate my humble background, when the assistant manager went to show me about the fireplace, he proclaimed:

"Here, let me turn on the fire for you," I resisted the strong urge to respond:

"You want to do what to the fire...?" A handy light switch on the wall, hidden by the hanging curtains (of course) provided instant cabin ambiance. I LOVE fireplaces! And unlike the wood burning variety, I felt safe operating it.

There are two doors leading into the bathroom, from the kitchenette, or from the bedroom. Even after three days, this arrangement confused me. I've been living in one room for too long!
I spent lovely hours before the fire, listening to the in-room stereo, or watching the flat screen TV.

I had three telephones, one in the bathroom, one in the bedroom and of course, one in the living room. I'd never actually do this, but wouldn't it be great. You're on the throne, call up some company who done you wrong - register a complaint, as you answer nature's call. Oh, what symbolism!

The bath tub had an angled ergonomically designed back rest. I wondered if I'd ever find the will power to LEAVE this little bit of paradise. Hot water I had to moderate with cold water, so I could really soak out the seven hour train ride up to the resort.

Amtrak was very good about dealing with me and my disabilities. They were truly helpful and gracious. The only drawback, for me, is that families with kids and the disabled are put in the same car. I understand why this is done. Both groups will need additional assistance in an emergency, but I'm not a kid-person. Seven hours of the little darlings left me drained and ready to pounce on any out-of-control child.

First shut the kid up and then go and "educate" their parents! Oh my, the new parenting style, is to let strangers deal with the little darling! I pondered staying at the home of a friend with his wife and four kids, when I travel east. No dice! I look forward to meeting his wife and family, but I know that a small dose of child goes a long way with me. After a fun evening with the group, I'll flee back to the quiet of my private hotel room. The Resort at Squaw Creek has a lot of great stuff for children. If you aren't into the small fry, hold off on dinner until 9 PM. Then its just the adults.

Gourmet food is also featured here. I had a lamb trio, or three different kinds of lamb, which all tasted like LAMB. I love lamb and get frustrated at most recipes which try to take the lamb flavor out of the lamb. Delicious! The next night I ordered a rib-eye steak that was truly the best thing I've ever had in a steak. Carmelized onions and delicately roasted potatoes in a light sauce, totally eliminating my usual need for A1 Sauce. I saved half of my steak and finished it off on the return train trip.

On the train ride up to the resort, I explored the lounge car, where $7 will provide adequate coffee and a really crummy cheese burger in plastic, which doesn't microwave evenly. When the lady told me the price, I blurted out, in surprise:

"Oh, just like the airport!" which got laughs from all but the waitress.

I wanted to dance through that lounge car on the return trip, bragging about a gourmet steak lunch. I must really be growing up, I didn't do that either. Oh, returning my attention back to Squaw Creek, I enjoyed: Caesar Salad, Spinach Salad and several really wonderful chocolate deserts.

Somehow, a gourmet Caesar Salad is the most striking experience for me. They just do something different or extra to it. All the flavors are distinct, yet blend. Once you have this really good stuff, at least once a year, you'll be willing to pay high prices for it. Thirty dollars to fifty dollars per person, and that doesn't include alcoholic beverages.

I saw and walked over snow - in April. I was there from Monday through Wednesday morning. Sunday night they'd had over three feet of snow fall. My weather was clear and beautiful. It is interesting to swim in an 80 degree pool, surrounded by large quantities of snow with snowball fights breaking out everywhere. I accidentally got hit by a stray fly ball from a child to his father. What fun! The father made me laugh, when he muttered:

"Don't worry, I know where they sleep." He obviously loved his boy and delighted in being a temporary target.

I didn't realize how the mugging had affected my attitude about certain activities. I've not been swimming since it happened. I realize now, I was afraid of falling on the concrete around the pool, or hot tub. I frankly told Rich, the wonderful assistant manager who escorted me everywhere, that I may not be able to handle it. I did want to check out the pool area. He agreed and again tried to put me at ease, that I wasn't an undue burden. I parked my walker and located myself as close to the pool and hot tub as possible, and ventured forth. Once in the pool, I couldn't get out without the aid of steps, which I couldn't find. I guess it is obvious when one can't see. A very nice lady called out directions to me, and once finding a ladder, got out of, and back into the pool just fine. I felt like I was reclaiming my life again. In some small way, Rich and the other wonderful staff people helped me find the courage to take back my full life. Not being able to see never got me into as much physical hurt as not being able to prevent falling. I also realize I need a collapsible walking cane, for those short trips various places, where it isn't safe, or sensible to take my walker. These special canes are available and I'll have one within the next week.

I also discovered how content I truly am with my regular life. After three glorious days in an idyllic local, I was ready to come home. I was looking forward to returning to my new role as webmaster et al for my church. A job I learn to accomplish, literally as I guess how to do it! I was thankful for a refreshing rest from the noisy construction that is on going in my building. I returned home refreshed and excited about my daily routine. I remember times of absolutely hating my regular life. I've grown up a lot and find looking at what is going correctly in my world feels a whole lot better then bemoaning what I don't or can't have.

Avoiding Ruining Your Today Because Of Your Past Abuse

One of the sad facts of life for those of us with the terrible histories, is we can easily destroy our hard-fought-for new life, when reminded of our traumatic past. This again is a topic I have rarely seen discussed clearly, as it involves admitting being far less then a stellar performer. I nearly destroyed a treasured friendship over a memory I couldn't even consciously identify.

Rule Number One: When some event happens and you react radically, STOP! You find out a new fact about a person and you want to terminate the relationship. Before you act on that impulse, you have to try and find out what in the world you THINK happened, as compared to REALITY.

In issues of either physical, or psychological survival, we imprint "emergency" reactions. If you accidentally touch something hot, the impulse to move your hand only makes it to your brain AFTER your "emergency" nervous system forces you to remove your hand, before too much damage can be done. Our brains have a similar system.

To this day, a room at dusk with no inside lamp on, fills me with a mind-numbing dread. Why? Because, as a child of six, this setting meant: A) My parents were asleep and wouldn't get up for hours, if at all. B) I wouldn't get dinner (which was really bad, if I hadn't had anything for lunch). And C) There was absolutely nothing else for me to do but wait it out until the next morning, when I might have awake parents to feed me. This happened a lot and my brain now considers an unlit room at dusk, an "emergency" situation.

I have learned that even when at someone else's home, it is okay to request a light be turned on. I don't necessarily have to inform them of the entire "why". Usually, just saying something like "this time of day makes me nervous, could you please turn on a light?" It is really no problem. If I ignore my internal terror, I'm likely to break out in a cold sweat and want to get into compulsive over eating. This is not good, as I now have all the food I want, any time I desire it.

An empty refrigerator also scares me. Mine - I go to the store and fill it up. Yours - well, I'll do my best to make sure you're not in need, or want. This can offend some people, who are trying to put on appearances. I try to avoid that personality type any more.

This all sounds a bit trite now, but a week ago, I went into "emergency shut-down", after discovering a male friend wears one stud earring! He told me of owning several styles of same and also having a small hoop earring. My first reaction was a strong temptation to cry. I felt an odd, coldness sweep over me. I have learned to observe my emotional states, as at times, it indicates I need to get a medication change. The last time I experienced this severe reaction was over the first time I was mugged. I absolutely couldn't deal with that new reality. A man on a bicycle had stopped beside me, I thought, to ask for directions. I was returning home from a swing shift at 11:30, on a Thursday night.

He grabbed my leather purse strap and began to cut it with a knife. He had to really work at it, as it was a good quality purse. I remember seeing the knife literally an inch from my right breast. I toyed with the idea of fighting, but it would have been too easy for him to stab me in the chest. I was frozen in place. After it was over, I walked on another block and a wacko in a wheelchair told me that he'd give me $10 if I'd perform a sex act on his body! (Some days, you have all the luck).

As I was about to cross the final street to my house, the same bicycle came back, returning my broken purse! It was another man, who had heard me screaming, after the mugger took off, throwing me down into the street. The second person had chased the mugger. The mugger dropped the purse and bike. Now, this kind person was returning my purse. I was almost unable to speak at all. The police were called and a report was made. I was totally shaken and only discussed the incident with one co-worker, who kept quiet about it.

I had to force myself to be rational. All this emotion because I now know that a person I like wears a stud earring? I kept re-reading the email and my emotions weren't getting better, but worse. For some reason, I was now in full shut-down mode. I didn't want to talk to, or see this individual. I wanted to erase this new information. I felt like I'd been abandoned! For those of you who don't see the pattern yet, this is an extreme OVER REACTION. NOTHING about my friend had changed. He'd been wearing a stud earring during our entire relationship, the only change was my awareness of this fact. Usually, logic like this calms me down. No dice. I was still a mess.

When I'm in pain, I use humor. I got on Skype to a few male friends I was pretty sure weren't into earrings and we had a few laughs about the questionable state of Western Civilization. One gent informed me, that it was popular among sailors, as an easy way to show off and transport their wealth. No, I still feel like crap. I then noticed my earring sporting friend was text messaging me. I went cold inside, but had the (I believe) God-given wisdom NOT to act on my torrent of emotions. I acknowledged that the new fact bothered me a bit, but that I'd get over it. I then flat out lied. (One of those: "act as ifs.) Even though I was so screwed-up I was having trouble typing I said something like, "Don't worry, you are still my very cool friend". He laughed and (thankfully) didn't want to continue to chat. I thank God I did NOT share what was really happening with my feelings.

I have absolutely learned that when I over react, the current circumstance has absolutely NOTHING to do with the real problem. The real problem, is: I've been reminded of something from my PAST and my brain thinks its another emotional "emergency". I still had no clue as to what had set off my alarm bells. I knew my friend wasn't gay, and even if he was, I don't care about his sex life. He wears an earring, 90% of the male Marriott employees I've talked to, wear them, so why am I so torqued? I kept sinking deeper into a nasty depression and drawing a total blank as to why.

I now was literally clawing my way through that quicksand-kind of depression. Movement is hard, thinking is murky and my attitude is far below zero. It was actually difficult for me to do my housekeeping job. I'd catch myself sitting somewhere, staring off at a wall, just like my mother used to do. Oh geez, I'm thinking about Arizona. The absolute worst time in my life. Sexual molestation, neglect and abandonment, all within a terrible two-year period of absolute hell.

I was still smarting over a simple fact. My friend and his damn stud earring! I absolutely gagged on it. Why? Something about being gay, the gay lifestyle, or maybe somebody who wore earrings... Suddenly, I remembered another terrible incident in my life. I returned home from work to discover my bi-sexual husband cavorting with two naked boys, 14 and 16, on our living room rug! By God! I could have cared less that he was gay. I didn't want to sleep with him, so if he got it somewhere else, that was fine with me! But no way was I putting up with under-aged children being victimized. I began divorce proceedings and my world began a fast collapse.

Disillusionment! I thought I knew my husband, after ten years of marriage. But I sure didn't know he liked going after 'chickens' (slang for under-aged boys). He was also claiming to be an Eastern Orthodox Catholic Priest. For years, the site of priests vestments caused instant nausea. No one in my world would do that to any child! But I was sure disillusioned on that one!

I felt some clarity. I made wrong guesses about parts of my friend I had no information about. The truth felt like a disillusionment and now I saw the reason I was so totally over the top, emotionally. But, somehow, there was something more. My x-husband was not the root of my distress. He was an additional experience, confirming an earlier traumatic lesson about disillusionment, child molestation.

I was about 7 and daddy slept in my bed many nights. I'm not sure why. He did stuff to me as a baby, but I don't remember him messing with me until this one particular night. I woke up to him being really warm to the touch. He was thrusting himself at me. (I knew what he wanted to do, and I wanted to do it too). He thought I was my mother and he kept saying how they had to get to the hotel. I got up and walked around, trying to wake my daddy up, but he was too drunk. I got back in bed and the same scene re-played. For some reason, I put a stop to it. I got up and ratted out my father.

It was a pathetic scene. My father is blind drunk and has absolutely no clue as to what is happening. My mom is drunk too, but to her credit, when I told her what happened, and how my daddy thought I was her, she sobered up quick. She kept saying: "How could you? How could you?" My father just stood dumbly in the doorway of the family room - absolutely confused and stupid. I used to remember that scene, but just the blue wall behind my father. I'd cry for hours It took years to retrieve the actual memory, to where I could grieve the terrible loss of my parents, my childhood and my innocence. I hate sexual abuse, it trashes the entire life of its victims. There it was! A stinging pain, that never really goes away. I just choose to ignore it most of the time. There are only so many tears one can cry and so much time one can devote to the past. But what did all this have to do with a damn stud earring?

By now, I had begun to return to the here-and-now. I saw how an earring could lead to such an over reaction. Disillusionment for me was always an 'emergency". I can't remember making misjudgments about people that weren't major-league disasters for me. Well, I could see zero consequences for me, as it related to my current friend. At best, he has modern fashion sense, at worst, I can consider it a "quirk". I remembered the sermon from church about leaving the past behind, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.

By now, I'd finished my job and was walking home. I prayed that I could actually not return to the awful memories of my past. To take the faith-step of turning from those thoughts to something good in THIS PRESENT MOMENT! No lie, it took a lot of mental effort just to pray. I started out snarling at God, knowing He understands my process. He has taught me that it is safe to think the truth to Him. I have said some really nasty things at God, in anger and I know He understands. After the anger I just had to claim the promise that my future is going to be different from my past, because God said so. I slowly began to remember my up-coming vacation, food and some interesting computer work I was doing for my church. I am really jazzed about setting up an activities area on our web site, for the children.

Arriving home, after my thirty minute walk, I was no longer sad, depressed, or angry. My friend now simply has a 'quirk', I confess, I don't completely understand this particular facet of his personality, but so what? I'd still take a personal check from him, vouch for his character, trust him with computer passwords and even let him stay in my home alone. There are very few people on the planet I trust to that degree. My world was righting itself.

I'd gone from morbidity to normality. After dinner my friend, earring and all, and I had a lovely chat session. Yeah, he's the same as he was yesterday, except now I know he truly does sparkle :p. This post is one, somewhat confused journey, along that wonderful gift from God: The Road To Recovery.

Fast Traffic Lights Can Kill You If You Walk Slowly

This is an outrage! Slow-moving pedestrian gets $114 ticket in Los Angeles California, for "obstructing traffic"!

Before I got my walker, I fell hard on my left knee. For three weeks I had a white cane (blindness), in my left hand, and a walking cane in my right hand. I looked like a pair of windshield wipers walking down the street. For obvious reasons, I couldn't walk very fast. People would run into me and push me out of their way, on the sidewalk, or even in the crosswalk. I guess they were working for the CIA and it was an emergency.

Back thirty or forty years ago the average age in the United States, was a twenty-something, so timed traffic lights were set fast (four feet per second). Now, the average age is around 50-something and crossing five lanes of traffic at that rate is getting harder.

While I'm on drivers, I hate it when you toddle up to an intersection and jut your car totally across the intersection. Your butt is truly centered in MY crosswalk! I realize, sometimes, it is because you can't see around a badly placed tree, or corner. Most of the time, however, you are just in such a hurry! Cybergal got angry at such a driver once and faked a freak-out in front of him. I had the white cane and sunglasses and knew I looked totally blind. I deliberately slammed into the side of his car and started screaming:

"Oh, oh, at the blind school they told us that drivers would never block the crosswalk. I must be in the street! Oh, no, I'm going to die!" This man abandoned his car and walked me three blocks to my job. All the while apologizing for overshooting the crosswalk! Staying in character I kept responding:

"They told me, drivers are nice and don't block my way!" I'll probably go to hell for that stunt, but it still makes me laugh. We get tired of walking around your stinking cars, trucks and busses at busy intersections. I heard of an athletic blind gentleman who, when encountering a car in his path, at an intersection, climbed onto the hood and, using only 'proper,' cane technique, tap, tap, taped his way right across the hood of the offending vehicle! I'll bet the driver didn't even notice. Some of you, unfortunately, are too stupid to be driving.

I now introduce a new game called 'pedestrian bluff". I begin to cross a lighted intersection, having a green light. You see me, decide to have some fun, gun your engine and make me believe you are going to run me over. At the very last moment, you bring your car to a screeching halt. May you contract an incurable disease. Sometimes this behavior even has an audio accompaniment:

"See, I told ya, the bitch ain't really blind! Ha, ha, ha!"

And then there are you bastards on bicycles. Both times I've been mugged, the perpetrator has been on a bicycle. I see a bicycle coming towards me, on the sidewalk. Before the second mugging, (where I fought back and got hurt), I didn't used to fear you. Now I want to run. But you are moving too fast. I pull way over and stand still until you pass.

My walker is metal and I feel a little safer. A car can still run me over and kill me, but my baby will really mess up your paint job! If I throw my baby into a bicycles's path, I think the biker might sustain some injury, before attempting to mug me.

I realize that 99.9% of drivers aren't like the above, but its getting very scary out there on the street. People in wheelchairs, crossing 19th Ave. in San Francisco, California, on their way to San Francisco State University, report drivers dowsing them with hot coffee, or other liquid, as they try and cross the intersection!

The new hybrid cars with both gas and electric motors are whisper quiet and can't be heard, above high background noise, by a blind person. As usual, enough of us haven't been killed yet to cause the necessary public outcry and political fallout. It is the same for your toddlers on their way to school. An intersection that needs a traffic light will only get one when a magic number of said toddlers are run over. I saw this process and knew the grieving parents of child four. After child six was killed, a traffic light was duly installed.

One closing note. I am not totally blind, but I see about three to five feet ahead of me. I have been stalked by drivers and pedestrians. I assume if a car begins to tail me, that I've got a nut on my hands. PLEASE don't yell greetings to me, tail me, or honk your horn, or screech your breaks, to get my attention. I almost had a boss arrested after he tailed me for two blocks yelling: "hey baby!" I wasn't laughing then, or now. Thank you to the 99.9% of you who are decent non-offending road warriors trying to do life, just like me.

Humor: My Favorite Moments In Literature.

About thirty years ago I stumbled upon a book, Return From Tomorrow, authored by George Richie, who claimed to have 'died', experienced stuff "on the other side" and returned to resume his life on earth. In the early '80's, this was rare and way out on the fringe. Aahh, just my kind of book. Richie was in the military in 1947, got pneumonia and 'died' for about forty minutes. While people were going nuts in emergency trying to revive this man, he went through that tunnel, saw the white light and met his spirit guide. For Richie, as a Christian, he identified this guide as Jesus Christ. Jesus began to walk George through a review of his life by asking him what he did about the life Jesus lived. George Richie, in his mid-twenties, had no idea how to answer this question, but I believe deserves an award for the best attempted BS session in literature.

George Richie sorts through his 'good deeds' list and throws out to Jesus, that he was an Eagle Scout - Period. Then the best sentence in modern literature: '(Jesus) didn't seem very impressed." I've practiced for years, honing my BS-ing skills, but, I don't think I'd have the courage to try and slick one over on Jesus Christ! I still laugh to think of that story.

But tonight, I found a runner-up to the above. An innocent book review. But, what a review! MacPhilly didn't like the book, at all. (This is exquisite):

What a waste of paper. Seriously. Some poor tree had to die for this piece of crap to live.

Other then having a bronze plaque made of this quote, to hang near my monitor, ever reminding me of the price for sloppy, lazy, or ill-conceived writing, there is nothing to add to this fine commentary.

Tithing: Part 2.

As I madly work on getting the demonstration version of my church's web site ready to put on the web, I have to stop and marvel at how awesome God is. So, since I actually made the commitment to tithe, what happened? I'm totally fine!

I am financially where I usually am, as I do tend to spend a bit more than I should, but I am also socking away funds for my too-cool-to-even-imagine vacation, coming up in April. But, as always:

"You can't out-give God". A saying that floats around many churches. My life now has meaning, direction, purpose and FUN! Friends, it doesn't get much better then that! Material stuff has never made me happy inside, but having fun-loving and affectionate people in my life, fills me with a quiet contentment (if not a smile and a laugh).

God can't trust you with a duty for Him, until He can trust you not to go off half-crazy. He can't put important people into your life, until you learn how to keep confidences. I've learned, especially, that God won't do any of the above when I believe it is my right and due to have it!

Every day I live, every step I take and everything I do is a gift. I could have died yesterday and not be here right now. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed. I may howl when I get confused about web site design, construction and maintenance, but it is a gift to have a chance to try it again, for another day.

I met a man today, paralyzed from the neck down from a motorcycle accident. His disability always gives me pause. (It scares the liver out of me). But, just like me, he's learned to be thankful and basically content. I am amazed at the level of patience he has had to master. He must wait for everything to be done for him literally by another person! I fear I'd degenerate into a screaming shrew faced with those types of challenges.

God is also honoring one of my prayers. I want to be more aware of Him, even when my brain is doing something. I can sense His presence as I type. There is a kind of personal peace I'm discovering that is almost better then being with people. It is different, gentle, powerful and friendly. When I pull God in on my phone calls, iChats and other computer wonderings, it makes good conversations even better. My friends lavish their time upon me. My friends are all VERY busy people. I am amazed how I am interacted with by a flock of really classy folks. Like me, they have outgrown the need to constantly complain and find what is wrong. They delight themselves with their friends, families and some also have God.

I have real hope today. I don't know how my future will change for the better, but I know it is already in the process of that change. Now that I have finally gotten some control over a once out-of-control pride, God can trust me with praise from others, work for the church and a totally over-the-top vacation. Said vacation partly paid for and arranged by friends I also work for. My yearly vacation blow-out is an event I began after returning to Oakland.

I had abandoned my possessions with the crazy batterer and I was once again, starting over from zero. Dinners at the Marriott led to meeting their General Manager, which led to a really good room rate at this fabulous hotel. I truly was refreshed and relaxed, even though the Marriott City Center is right in the middle of downtown Oakland.

The next year new adventures were added as I learned more of what one can arrange for a vacation. A limo ride into San Francisco where I had the thrill of watching my guest and the chauffeur swap tales of their mutual trade. I did not realize that my companion had been a chauffeur while in college. Laughter was had by all. I have also discovered the absolutely divine amenity of a hot tub right in your room. Now, they make you pay for that, but IT IS WORTH IT!

I love being alone on my vacations, just God and me. I spend my time telling Him everything that is happening, while I'm dining, swimming, walking, or lounging around in a HUGE space (compared to my room). I drink more water, just for the joy of being able to use my very own private bathroom. Oh, man - no running down the hall, sleeping in street clothes because, when nature calls, I have to RUN! Thankfully, my current residence is secure and I no longer look at a hotel as a break from being in some level of danger. God is good to me!

So this April I get to do three days and two nights at a really up-scale Lake Tahoe resort. It is a photographer's paradise! Meadows, mountains, lakes and trees all within walking distance. I plan on using the heck out of my digital camera and you will all get to enjoy the photos, right along with me! Did I mention gourmet food? Four different price levels of heavenly food. Rack of Lamb, to Eggs Benedict (in two different varieties!), Filet Minoan and a lot of stuff I can't remember. This food is amazing. When you've had real gourmet food, you will be willing to pay for it! It's expensive, but so is a diamond. Keep the diamond, but let's hit the restaurant! The company which runs this resort also runs The Argent Hotel and I know their attention to detail and service will be fit for a queen! Did I mention goose down comforters, needle pointed spreads and chairs which compliment each other? I am truly blessed. I get to barrow a CD player, so I can hang out in my room and while looking at the fantastic view, I can enjoy my favorite music. Maria and John chuckle at my excitement, but Maria is also taking a trip to one of her favorite destinations. We're exchanging phone numbers so I can make her giggle with my breathless joy at being treated like I'm related to God!

For me, this all ties into tithing. For me tithing is simply a declaration that I'm serious about my faith. A stake in the ground, an anchor in the sea of life. All the rebellion I used to struggle with has vanished, leaving me willing and able to pour out large chunks of my life and time for God, the church and His people. Some of you may cringe at that. (I used to). Yes, I go to meetings and have a lot to do, but through it all, I'm happy healthy and grateful. I never want to re-visit my days of being adrift in a meaningless world without God, the church and His people. God has taught me how to cut people more slack. I was raised by impatient people and I used to serve up intolerance as a main stay of my personality. Today, I am finding ways to pause before blasting my fellow beings with my (at times) less-then-helpful, opinion or advice. I feel like all the pieces of me are coming together in a new way. How could I have taken so long to learn not to fear being responsible and mature?

(Mis) Adventures In Management: An Unsent Resignation.

To My Pastor:

I don't know what you were drinking when you decided I could design and run the church's website. It turns out, I was drinking it also, as I eagerly embraced the challenge. Knowing absolutely nothing about the multi-level process, I jumped in with both feet and quickly discovered I was in a lake of quicksand.

More experienced computer people informed me that I could get programs to "help" with the design process. I began to agree with this wisdom, only after discovering six more coding languages, some 'expert' claimed I needed to know, before I could even begin to design a website!

Now, I possess 'idiot-proof' web designing software. I confess, I laughed at your admiration of me, when you reverently announced that I was working on the church's website. I'm not laughing any more.

Designing a website IS voodoo!

As Tom Lear said, in the sixties, about the New Math: "its so simple, so very simple - that only a child can do it!"

After several hours of really hard brain work, using the "idiot proof" software, I've accidentally reproduced one of my earlier web designs. Which said design, a friend politely ignored, choosing instead to design one with the same "idiot
proof'" software!

What is the next level below "idiot"?

Yours faithfully.

CyberGal

Product Surveys, Psychology and Self-Image: What, Huh?

Due to the confidential nature of these surveys, details have been altered to protect confidentiality of products reviewed.

I fill out internet surveys for two companies. Neither company is an advertising front, or email address gathering engine. Surveys come in basically two varieties: proposed advertising evaluation, or a product group review. The product group would be all soft drinks, cookies, or tooth pastes. No surprises in over two years of doing surveys.

Recently, however, winds of change are blowing around ye old survey land. Yes, I get it about how sex appeal, or the hope of same, has been selling products for years. But, now, sex appeal has been replaced with narcissistic self-esteem! Sure, when I go to some fancy-smancy up-scale restaurant and pay fifty dollars for a great meal, I'll admit, it does fluff my self-image. But, today I laughed through most of a survey on generic thirst quenchers. You know, the stuff you throw back when you're thirsty and broke? I found myself confronted with statements I had to react to on a ten-point scale. The scale ranged from total agreement to total disagreement. So far, so good, until I read: "when I drink x, I feel comforted in body and soul" (Excuse me? Are we discussing a massage, a spiritual experience, or Duddly's Carbonated Crud?) I couldn't believe it. And there was more, much more.

I flashed back to a lengthy survey a friend and I did together about fast food. First, the usual questions on reason for the outing, quality and event satisfaction. I was giving my friend his questions over the telephone. I read: "when I ate x, I felt warm and comforted". I was greeted with shocked silence and then laughter. My friend blurted out: "Are we talking about dinner, or hanging out with a puppy?" (Hey, I don't write 'em, I just read 'em)! These questions are plumbing some strange psychological depths. "When I prepare x for my family, I have high self-esteem because my life is organized and yet still fun". Who wrote this, Dr. Phil? We're talking about a freezer-ready fast food, not a therapy session!

But the winner for the most absurd statement over a generic, inexpensive soda pop was: "when I enjoy x I feel light, free and energized all over". My thought would be either really strong coffee, or really good sex, certainly not Duddly's Carbonated Crud! Am I missing something here...?

Inflation, M3, and Politicians: The Lying SOB's!

Today I received a most distressing email, which I will reproduce for you shortly. Friends, if you are twenty-years-old, or above, surely you sense that our money in The United States, is declining in value. Twenty years ago I couldn't have consumed two dollars worth of potato chips, in one sitting. Now, it is a snack, and a small snack at that!

I have a deep and abiding mistrust of our government. Poor people learn things which people higher up on the economic ladder are never faced with. There is the myth of subsidized housing. Yes, it exists, on several levels. The problem is there is a shell game going on.

Before The Americans With Disabilities act -The ADA, we blind folks of any age could live with the over sixty-five crowd. Thus there were maybe twenty choices for an affordable residence. Now, because of the fear of lawsuits, landlords segregate handicapped, over sixty-five and under-sixty-five. At 52 I now have 3 choices for government subsidized housing. But wait, this is a very special and cruel game they play.

I apply to get into the lottery which (if I make the one-thousand to one odds) qualifies me to be on a list. Moving up the list will take from three to five years for my name to come to the top. This is not always true, in one housing option, every time some one new gets AIDS I'm bumped! The other twist drives me crazy. (I don't get mad at the tragedy of AIDS.) So, I wait around and eventually I get a letter telling me that I've got a slot. But the apartment is for non-handicapped-over-sixty-five people. I stared at this communication in stunned disbelief. The system knowingly put me up for something I am legally kept from taking advantage of. But, while we run like rats in a maze, from application to lottery to our mailboxes, only to discover we've been screwed again, the government can truthfully claim they do provide subsidized housing!

Do you really believe the news reports of only a one-tenth-of-a-percent increase in inflation for a given month? I started on Social Security over twenty years ago and my monthly payment was less then six-hundred dollars a month. Now, I receive a bit over one-thousand-dollars a month! Before you all go nuts, my rent is half of my income, for a twelve foot by twelve foot room with a sink and no building provided heat. The hallway is warm, but I refuse to sleep with my door open, to let hallway heat drift through my room and out the window glass. A monthly bus pass (for unlimited rides) costs twenty dollars today, twenty years ago, it was only three dollars. Trust me, I'm not rolling in money. I say this not out of anger, but I still remember when over a thousand a month made one solidly middle class. It won't go that far now.

I hate to get political, but please read and react to the following information. I've signed up with these folks and have written my representatives. (They will locate your representatives for you.)

For those of you not in the United States, you may want to investigate your own country - I'm sure they're playing games there also.

Remember:

"all evil needs to triumph, is for good people to do nothing" (holocaust survivor).

D o w n s i z e r - D i s p a t c h

Please forward to anyone you know who cares about the value of their money.

Dear friend,

The Federal Reserve can create new dollars out of thin air. Much of the federal government's deficit spending is funded with this "funny money." When more dollars are created prices rise and the value of your savings fall. Sadly . . .

We believe the Federal Reserve is about to create a whole bunch of new money. Why? Because, starting March 23 the Fed will stop publishing a statistic called M3. M3 is the best guide to how much new currency the Fed is creating. The only reason to stop publishing M3 is because .
. .

The Fed is planning to do a whole lot of "legal counterfeiting," and wants to hide it. This is a direct threat to your budget and savings. It must be stopped. Fortunately . . .

Congressman Ron Paul is sponsoring legislation to force the Fed to continue reporting M3. We need to force this legislation through Congress. It's the best brake we have to stop inflation. And the brakes come off March 23.

Please click here to send Congress a message telling them to pass Ron Paul's bill. http://action.downsizedc.org/wyc.php?cid=44

Jim Babka

President

DownsizeDC.org, Inc.

Transportation, Hypocrisy and Disability: Why Are You So Angry?

I love my church and in spite of some temporary difficulties, I still love my church and its members. At the moment I am completely demoralized and drained. I am having to re-visit some old territory I've been trying to leave behind for years. Some people act very strangely when having to deal with helping the disabled. The more severe the disability, the more complex the problem and the harder it is to sort out what is actually happening. I am speaking now, as the disabled person, having to navigate some very bizarre waters.

I have been offered transportation by my new pastor for those times when its raining. I loath this situation and would rather swim to church then deal with the problems of accepting a ride from the pastor, or anyone else. Rides are a problem, when you can never drive. The able-bodied community knows you can never drive and with 'good intentions' they strongly believe that SOMEONE should be willing (always) to share a ride, as long as they aren't the car-sharer. People, especially church people, fear being 'trapped' into doing something forever-and-ever-amen! Usually, once someone 'volunteers' to drive the disabled person, the rest of the able-bodied community breathes a collective sigh of relief. Now, they know THEY don't have to do it, but, thank God, SOMEBODY is doing it! The person who discovers this trap, eventually becomes angry. It is socially unacceptable not to 'like' helping the disabled, so they only have one other outlet. Usually done in a passive-aggressive, underhanded manner, the driver gets angry at the disabled person!

I almost got fired from a paying job over this thicket of unsaid hypocritical lying garbage. I didn't see what was happening. My boss had a BIG problem with my disability. (at the time, I carried a white cane, indicating blindness). She had to be 'corrected by my temporary agency supervisor to 'permit' me to go to the lady's room alone! My agency supervisor was stunned into silence when I called her for assistance with this issue. My work was excellent and I was an asset for the agency. With my supervisor's help, my boss at the job, grudgingly 'permitted' me to go to the bathroom alone!

This same on-site boss decided that since one of the other employees lived 'close' to my home, that we could car pool together. I don't know if the employee involved was 'requested' or 'ordered' to drive me to and from work. Things seemed fine for the first few weeks. I paid for gas, as I had no other way to thank her for the extra trouble of picking me up and dropping me off, each day.

Gradually, I noticed a change. People became silent when we entered the office. Something was very wrong and I got the distinct feeling it had something to do with me. Finally, the dam broke and an ugly truth tumbled forth from my boss.

"You know CyberGal, it is very selfish of you to EXPECT a ride to work every day" This is said so that all in the office can hear. I hadn't asked for, or expected a ride from anyone. I knew how to take a bus and did so on all my other activities, including work. I was taken aback and protested as much.

"I have taken the bus everywhere. You folks were kind enough to offer a ride. If there is a problem, I'll return to taking the bus" The tension rose markedly around me, as the able-bodied to able-bodied guilt-tripping stair-down games began. (I sensed a problem, but had no idea of the vicious dynamics being acted out around me).

"We can't have YOU take a BUS!" my boss cried out to the room. There was only one employee who lived close to me, and she'd complained that she wanted out of our arrangement. (She went to my boss, not to me.) I'd tried to give her an out many times, but she refused (to my face) to admit her true feelings.

"Patty is getting tired..." My boss trailed off and I got angry.
"Look. I've felt there was a problem, but no one tells me the truth. I'll take the bus from now on and the problem is solved. I take the bus..." I was cut off by patty's guilt-induced protests:
"I'd feel terrible thinking you are taking the BUS, but..." She halted this protest, as she remembered how she really didn't want to share her car.
"I'll have my husband drive me." (I lied), causing the tension in the room to vanish. I figured these people were to stupid to put it together about my lying, if they saw me walking on the street. I could always say I was going to my 'pre-arranged' meeting place. I knew from hundreds of experiences and out-and-out manipulations of people, that the vast majority of them are stupid beyond belief..

True to form, with a few well-planned lies. I took the bus alone, my job was saved and everyone in the office congratulated themselves for 'taking such good care of the handicapped'. If I sound angry, disgusted and a trace bitter, I am, on all counts. This situation is one where the person with the disability loses every time, no matter what we do. I loathe this problem, as in 52 years of trying, the only really satisfying solution is to rely on no one, come and go alone and pray no one notices.

I recount one of my favorite demonstrations of hypocrisy I've personally witnessed. I came to my old church on Sunday. It had been raining and several people were grousing at me, that someone should give me a ride. This is always my first cue to begin the "hussle to get a ride" game. I went to one of the assistant pastors, who lived north of me, but not too far afield. I saw her entire body tense up. She looked up at me and curtly replied: "Oh baby, I can't even get my own self here most of the time." and then she quickly vacated the room. Translation: Hell No! Fine. After checking with several other potential cars and getting much the same response, I gave it up and returned to my usual plan, I'd come and go by bus.

The next Sunday, it was pouring rain. I had about six blocks to walk, on top of the waiting around for a bus, so I got to church rather drenched. This same pastor's assistant grabbed me just before I entered the church and screamed: "Why didn't somebody give you a ride? Somebody should have... Oh this is terrible..." I cut her off with my contemptuous retort: "I asked YOU last week about a ride, you said "no" which is fine. Now, unless you want to solve this problem, shut up and let me come inside,"

For those of you who have recently become disabled, what I did is a big no-no. No matter what kind of garbage the able-bodied throw our way, we are always to be kind, compliant, submissive and GRATEFUL. To not be those things really angers the dear souls who want someone else to help us. I've never spoken of this issue in such stark terms. It feels wonderful to call a pile of social garbage, the stinking heap it really is!

As with most problems of being disabled, even the disabled themselves condemn one another if we dare to be less then kind, compliant, submissive and GRATEFUL. It has been crazy-making for me.. I am one of those rare folks who can't ignore the elephant under the rug, in the living room. There is a big lump and a bad smell. I am forever amazed how most people can and DO ignore that elephant. It makes me very angry. Sighted professionals refer me to the 'specialized' professionals who work with and for the disabled. These professionals refer me back to the general people, who sent me to them in the first place! The disabled community has several large subgroups, neither of which face reality. There are those in total denial, who equate blindness with having a broken arm. A hassle, but something totally do-able. Then there is the group that has given up completely. I find that I don't need their help in discovering MORE wrong with my world. I am amazed at the games we disabled play with each other. I have folks in my world, who hate me because I'm doing something with my life, but claim that with enough positive thinking, they aren't really blind. To quote my black buddies: "Say W-H-A-T???"

I have been through this dreary transportation thing many, many times. My early childhood experiences don't assist my adult attitude, as I was 'forgotten' more then once by my drunk parents. When I am engaged in looking for a car, the person attached to the vehicle is more like an enemy to me, I fight a tremendous inner fear of being abandoned again. I still have tears to cry over that one, but I refuse to let it start.

So, last night at church I had my first round of ride-o-romma. Person A made a huge issue of giving me a ride home. I finally accepted, figuring she'd tell me when she was leaving. Only after an hour of waiting did I discovered that she'd left without me! Then it was time to 'go fish'. My bad vision and messed-up emotional state don't help here. Person B, told C, D, and E about me needing a ride and I kept hearing that several people would give me a ride. I haven't visited this emotional nightmare for awhile, and I was over reacting. I kept apologizing, which really seemed to irritate pastor's wife. I wanted to sit down and sob. I was slightly sick to my stomach and so hyper. It is a feeling like, no matter what I do I'm doomed. Not an entirely rational reaction, but in some ways true.

Finally, as everyone was leaving the building my ride materialized. I'm not sure of the identity of the driver, but I am sure that I have some clean-up, and apology work ahead of me, when I return to church. I was given a message to pass to the still unknown driver. When I passed the remark about making sure the children were in the van. I was greeted with complete silence. (An oops moment, for sure!)

I got home shaky, angry, totally drained and emotionally wrung out. Unlike garden variety depression, this was a combination of re-processing old childhood fears and trying to sort out adult problems. I watched my mind trip over itself like a basset hound puppy tripping over its huge feet and long ears. I couldn't calm down. I wanted to find a good friend, curl up in their embrace and wait for them to 'make it all go away'. That desire lives with my hope for a money bush and being able to live at The Marriott as a permanent resident! Right, and now, back to reality. I do have wonderful friends. Church is helping me to stop over reacting, or at least to calm down a bit before posting a crisis email! Its okay to hurt, or be angry, sad, or whatever. It is, however unfair to your friends to collapse into their lives in a complete emotional meltdown. (And some people don't believe Jesus Christ is able to change a person's behavior! I may be irritating at times, but I could tell you stories, of the pre-Christian CyberGal that are very immature indeed!)

I'd written to a friend before leaving for church sending along pictures of my two proposed website designs, requesting his review. I also asked for encouragement, as I was totally overwhelmed with what it appeared I needed to learn before I could create a website. My friend went to the trouble of putting together an entire five page web site for me. He has iWeb, which I finally bought. It does most of the difficult technical work for you. My pastor liked the older-looking of my two designs, but my friend's design (from a professional media designer), looks modern, simple and eye-catching. I was moved by his effort and time sacrifice. He is a man with more life then time. However long it took to create the web site, was time he could have given to his family, or maybe just time to sneak a peak at a beloved Agatha Christie novel. He informed me that I was attempting to do too much too fast. The joy of a friendship like this is the knowledge that it is safe to tell the truth.

After thanking him for pulling me out of the emotional fire, I turned to the ride dilemma. I wrote a short version of this blog, but with a bit more emotional angst. I tried to end my email on something closer to a positive note, but I wanted to run away and hide. I ended with the observation, that maybe after some sleep, this too shall pass. I buried myself in Christian radio and eventually got to sleep.

What greeted me this morning was pure joy. My friend took more time to communicate his heart-felt opinion, that, sometimes people, even Christian people can be immature idiots. (Aahh, how that warms the cackles of my heart). He confessed his total unwillingness to go without his own car, because he hates to wait for people. He comforted me with: "I can only imagine how frustrating it must be...". Thank you for not telling me all about how you know the way I feel. See, my friends are all very special. They have to be smart to keep pace with me and my goofy ways. But the gift of knowing when your experience isn't even close to mine, is so wonderful. I never tell a totally blind person anything about their situation, as my vision gives my world a completely different set of opportunities and problems.

What a lovely email it was! Full of gentle care and a touch of playfulness. I am experiencing the joy of having friendships which truly work in both directions. I used to have relationships, I called 'friendships' but I was doing all the work. I was like an entertaining monkey with a Visa Card! When the money was gone, so were they! This friendship is so different. I share what I can and he shares what he can. It is lovely, healthy and a gift from God.

When my friend grumbles under the pressure of leading a Christian family and the responsibilities of child raising, I listen, but since I'm neither a parent, or the head of a family, there isn't much I can bring to that particular party. When I yowl about disability issues, my friend knows he can only walk with me so far. What a blessing! The truth really will make you free, as Jesus so rightly said.

While I have no bright new ideas on the above problems, I do have a better understanding of how God helps with and enters into our lives, when we remember: a) He's there and b) He is willing to teach, help, strengthen and inspire. It is extremely difficult for me to wait for anything. I have to attempt to sit down and quietly wait for something to develop without jumping in with both feet, running around in circles, only to confuse my fellow human beings. I also hate to be trapped into a never-ending-commitment. I can remember to pray, when the ride test comes around again. I do know that, until I find peace in spite of problems around transportation, God will run me through this test again, and again, and again. The faster I remember to pray, the sooner I will mine the lessons waiting for me. More of the old me will dissolve under the loving care of a God who is trying to re-make me into something wonderful, strong and emotionally mature.

Humor: The Godblog AND The 23rd Psalm For Geeks.

I choose to react to the Godblog as satire. I do not mean to offend anyone. Look at the absurdity of this highly creative and imaginative piece of entertainment.

My favorite links being:

• God's FAQ's.


• the link to Tecrokrati's Favorites.

Go over there and have a good laugh. I hope the blogger gets rich from spreading all this mirth.

Since I'm on the lighter side of religion, I ponder how lonely my geeky friends must be. These are the people who stopped speaking, or understanding plain English, long ago.

They now speak in some form of hieroglyphics:

• 'sok' is "its okay".


• 'n' or 'np' is "no problem'.


• 'k' is "okay".

These people need God just as much as the rest of us, but no one has put religion into their lingo.

I will share a few examples:

• Prayer to God is uploading.


• Answer from God is downloading.

I now humbly submit my geek translation of part of the 23rd Psalm:

"The Lord is my web hosting service

His systems do not crash.

Although my software is attacked,

by viruses, adware and malware,

His firewall keeps my business running.

He doesn't make me constantly upgrade,

and my projects are always under budget and pre-deadline."

Kinda mists up your monitor, doesn't it?

Moral Decline and the Rise of Vigilantism

I am deeply troubled by several events covered on Adam Curry's The Daily Source Code pod cast. He lost a battle in The Netherlands, to have a publication punished for publishing pictures of his daughter, the location of her school and her transit mode. I have been stalked and this story frightens me.

As a blogger, I'm on the fringe of being a public figure. I feel it is very wrong to violate the privacy of anyone's family, famous, or not. Sadly, some people do pray on children. Mr. Curry was dismissed on his accusation of child endangerment with the retort that he is a public figure and therefore, publication of private information, goes with the territory! Mr. Curry was not seeking financial gain for himself, but a sanctioning of the publication for misuse of his property (photos on Flickr.com) and endangering the safety of his child. He lost on both counts.

Adam is now going public with this situation and using his pod cast to run a contest to stalk and photograph the photographer who took pictures of his child. I am deeply troubled by this move also. While I sympathize with the desire to achieve justice, I shudder to think of what that photographer is in for. This is vigilantism on a global scare. It is moral anarchy.

As the pod cast continued a listener comment was played protesting the use of Jesus Christ as a curse word. He postulated that Adam Curry wouldn't like his name used in that manner. Adam's response leaves me cold. While he tried to acknowledge 'respect' for the protest, he justified his freedom from all restrictions on a pod cast, by saying that Jesus was a brilliant marketer. Using His name as a curse word, has kept Him public and current.

This attitude profoundly troubles me. I am not a Muslim, but would never knowingly defame any thing associated with their beliefs, out of respect for the importance of religious faith. I follow a simple system: when I'm a guest in your home, I show respect to your home. If I don't show respect, why should I have any expectation of respect being shown to me?

Our world is drifting deeper into moral relativism, where truth is determined by what works, instead of an objective standard, We move toward moral anarchy. If the ends justify the means, then it is fine to harass a photographer and his family, because "he started it"! This is surely a high water mark on Western Civilizations Decline and Fall.

Ethics In Marketing and Business

I do not follow trends, as most of the time, I pay little attention to what the majority is up to. With this blog, I just began blogging. Now, after several months, I decided to see what other bloggers are up to. I am stunned. It is like a feeding frenzy to get attention, and in many cases "mouse clicks on ads for money".

The thirst for money via advertising has driven some to what I call BullDog Marketing: "Trick 'em, until they click 'em and then Sic 'em!" I got caught in an accidental click-athon, by not being careful, oh so careful about where my mouse was hovering, before selecting something. Once dumped onto an advertisers site, I got caught in a loop. It took almost ten minutes of clicking, box closing and aggravation to exit this site. I'm sure someone made some money off of my mistake. Friends, I'd shut them down, if I know how to accomplish the task. I loathe the manic, no holds barred climate of the internet. I refuse to play.

Oh, you counter, but you need traffic! Because: traffic equals financial potential! I actually have fans who are setting up fake flame-fights between fictitious people, to "drive" traffic to my site. They hope to lift my ratings and assist me in making money. This unsolicited behavior makes me very nervous. It feels contrived, dishonest and just plain wrong.

I have set up this blog to where my religious commitments are quickly stated. I don't wish to be associated with flame-wars (fake or real). I don't wish to use trickery to generate anything. I have stated my intention not to advertise in this space. I see my blog as a place to share thought and experience. I assume my readers are intelligent, busy, creative and curious. My writing style is what it is, if it doesn't speak to you, fine. Please, locate another blog, closer to your taste. I refuse to modify my style, just to generate traffic. Today's method is: if you can't get it done in sound-bite chunks, don't do it. I say: go somewhere else for that. I am what I am and that's it.

Here is my philosophy on sales. I'm going to cite two good (in my opinion), websites. I will provide links to both, should you wish to investigate either business further. Both links are to their home pages and are not entrapment sites. I use sitemeter.com for this blogs traffic monitoring. I set it up out of pure curiosity. I therefore use the free part of their service. They give me opportunities to upgrade, but have never tricked me into doing anything. I have come to trust sitemeter.com as an ethical business. So, when I happened to see a short, clear ad for websidestory.com, offering a free ebook on marketing, I clicked on it. I found a second ethical business which is huge. They market to large companies all over the world. I had to really search to find a way to simply thank them for the free ebook.

Why thank them? I was stunned by the high non-advertising content of a truly free ebook. In order to show me their sales and personnel gathering technology, they needed to give me a short education. This was serious content I found very useful.

I received two email responses: the first thanking me for subscribing (for free) to their site, and the second from a personal consultant, acknowledging my correspondence. No where did I find trick-links, free (not really) offers, or "get rich quick schemes". If I ever consider a sales position, I want to work for a company like websidestory. What refreshing maturity and dignity!

So, if you have dropped in because of a dramatic flame-war, or absurd, outrageous post, I am in conflict. I am glad you are here, but I regret, I'm probably not you type of blog. Even though I have no control over others' reactions to my work, I regret the problem of some visitors feeling manipulated into visiting this blog.

I know, I know, I just don't get it. My goal for this blog, is not to make money, or have the highest audience numbers on the net. My goal is to share one brains reactions with other brains who are tired of 'fluff' thinking. Not everything in this world should be reduced down to a bulleted list, PowerPpoint presentation, or a three sentence paragraph.