I'll eat cake, you can eat crow

I've been watching two crows from my office window. I haven't really see very many crows up close. They are large birds, with slick black feathers, and piercing eyes. I've watched them dive from tops of the trees, straight down to gather a smaller bird to eat. It's quite vicious really. I watched as the crows pinned their prey against a tree branch and pecked the smaller bird to death. The pen feathers raining from the tree branch, blowing like white cotton in the wind. Pieces of raw, dead, red meat falling from the sky, too, all the body parts the crows didn't want to eat.

On breaks, I've noticed that they imitate other birds calls. I'm not sure it this is to identify the other birds locations, or if the crows are just fucking mean. They also have a large vocabulary, talking to one another in great detail. The crackles hang out with them. As I read up on the crows, they keep to themselves, the will even fight with other crows who are not part of their flock. This, of course, leads me to believe that the grackles and the crows have some sort of mob relationship. And for as smart as the grackles are, I do think eventually this relationship will end badly for them. There can only be one top bird.

Not unlike people, are the crows. As I was at Fat Camp this week, you can begin to see the personalities of all the fat people. Most everyone is okay; however, it should be noted that by okay, I mean that some people's level of being nuts is more tolorable than others. But, there are some, yes, there are some that you can't be nice to, they will bring you down. I have lost weight, not a lot, but am doing ok. Some people have gained. They gained by eating the diet food AND regular food. If you gain for two weeks in a row, they switch you to the loser fat camp class. I'm not sure if they wisk you away right after weigh in, that I just don't know. But, I do know that for what I'm paying to learn how not to be fat, I do not want to wear the scarlet F.

No one has been pointed out, but we all know who they are. This one woman sat right in class and ate four of the delicious chocolate snack bars. They are 150 calories each, so right there in less than thirty minutes, she consumed 600 calories. She was shoving them in her mouth and crinkling the wrappers loudly. It was an obvious cry for help, for attention. It was really quite sad. My heart did go out to her. But, it's every fattie for themselves, I can't help her, she'd just bring me down. Plus, next week, at weigh in, she'll just disappear, not to disrupts us again, off to that "other class", and I will not have to think about her again.

Also, there are two ladies that sit right in front of the class. They are mean fatties. Whenever some one speaks about something, they always turn and stare, roll their eyes, make faces, and whispers giggle. They have not picked on me, yet. They prey on the more insecure. This week they picked on an old lady. Yes, I know it's their own insecurities...I get that. But, I just don't really care. You can be a jackass in the back of class. It's pretty much a nusance to have them right in front. They give off airs. Fatties with airs...there's a joke or two in that.

Didn't we all have these people in school. I didn't like them then and I don't like them now. If they continue, I will gently remind them that they are fat, too. That they are in the fat camp, just like the rest of us, and if they were any better, they wouldn't be at fat camp. I will also remind them that some people have actual medical problems that led them to being fat, so unless they have one of those things going on, then they're just fat, which is worse. Yes, I will pick back. I don't feel particulary insecure about them, their just disruptive. I was the champion of the picked on in school...it's part of being a Sag, we have a heighten sense of fairness about us. To be a sparrow, a grackle or a crow, yes, that is the question.

I went to a friend's birthday party last night. I got to see my dear friends, Chris, Steve and Billy. They are, by all rights, superstars. As I noted this, at one point in the conversation, some other guy, said that I was just obviously smitten. No...not smitten....in awe. He said asked if I was like that with other famous stars...he was thinking that I was a hangeroner. No, most stars in the public eye were not really stars, but rather, portals to conformity and comfort for the masses, not really stars. However, these guys were actual, live, in the flesh, stars. People who broke the mold, pushed the envelope...didn't he see that? I used the example of Imus vs. Vonnegut. Imus, who has always been a jackass, and did nothing of memory, sure did get a lot of attention. Kirk Vonnegut, who did everything of memory, when dead, just barely made the news. There is a difference between stars, and fucking STARS. He just proclaimed again that I was smitten. I quit talking to him, I wasn't in awe of him, and he was the hangeroner.

I mostly hung out with the men at the party. Women don't like me, I'm not very girly. I can't even try. Now, don't get me wrong, I did try, really I did. I compliment the host on the home she built, and the decorations, and the food spead. Then I went to pee, and in her bathroom for reading material was a bible and a southern comfort magazine. Oh, sweet jesus, fuck. I pulled up my pants and sighed. I hoped I didn't get kicked out of my friend's party. I knew she would hate me. And she did. She and one other girl whispered and pointed a bit, but not too much, because I had strong support from my long time friends. I tried to make a joke. I told one of the girls that if I got too drunk and puked would that please hold my hair back. I laughed. She looked confused. She said, You have short hair. Yes, that's right. Move on quickly, move on.

So, she tried to get me back the rest of the night. I noted that I was in Fat Camp, and would not be having any of the food. And actually, I didn't want it. Trust, that surpised me more that anyone. That's a first, and I thought that was cool. The rest of the night she spent trying to get me to eat. Almost chasing me at times, with olives on sticks, and piece of cheese, and cracker spread. Have you ever been chased with olives before? Holy shit, this woman was relentless. I was being chased...it was insane.

It was all we had to talk about for the evening. She would have a bite, try to feed me a bit, I would say no, but thank you, I would explain that I wasn't hungry. I would move, start a conversation with another person, turn slightly, and there she was with the pita bread and humus spread...we would start again. Over and over and over....for hours. She was on a mission. And later by the fire, she actually pouted about it. I'm not kidding. Lip out and everything.

Now, you would think that it's just me making things up. However, one of my friends noticed it, too, and commented on this squirrly behavior. The only answer that I had was that I made her look stupid, actually I didn't make her, I just made a couple of jokes, that were consquently above her thought level, and now she was out to get me with cheese cubes and the like. However, once challenged by olives and cheese, I couldn't back down. Can you imagine the shame that I would have carried this morning had a slipped off the fat wagon? Can you?!?

To be a sparrow, a grackle or a crow. That is the question.

I loved you Kirk Vonnegut. And I thank you and the other super stars that I know for just being alive to influence and inspire me. How shitty and bored I'd be if you never had existed at all.

Why do I have to worship the Toast Jesus and not the Chocolate Jesus

As this week was filled with a lifetime of worldly stupidity, I of course, have taken time to reflect.

My comments on politics:

I do not care who can raise the most campaign funds. That is just fucking stupid. They are buying their way into power. Isn't that a direct hit on what we're not supposed to be about? That is why I never check the box to donate to the Federal Campaign Fund. Fuck you! Get you're own fucking money...And, well, they do. With all of the options, most of them very cheap, you'd think we could run a paperless campaign, or something close to it. No, no one gets my $3 per year.

Also, to the guy who walked out of the Muslim held prayer in the Texas Government. You, sir, are a dumbass. He all but accused this man of being a terrorist. It smacks of the years past when a black person, a Communist, a woman, or a Jew had to be beaten, shot, jailed, or burned. You, sir, are a dumbass. And I mean that from the bottom of my ordinary citizen heart. Dumbass.

And, jailing illegal immigrants and their children in Texas, in a specifically designed jailing system in Hutto. What?!!!? What of this makes since? I am paying tax money to jail people, who's only crime is to be on this soil, this dirt. Either let them work, or send them home. At the current cost, of keeping small children in orange jumpsuits, we could have rented a bus or five and driven them in air-conditioning, home. Or, let them work. It's not that big of a deal to make a good decision. Spend my money wisely or give it back to me.

But, it could be to the rest of us. I site the twenty-four year old who just got out of seven months of prison for refusing to testify in front of a grand jury about the footage he shot as a G8 summit. No more vacation pictures and amendment Rights for me...I'm out.

Right now my butt is probably being monitored for top security reasons. Maybe I've even gotten a phone tap. It won't be very interesting, but as long as there's a court order to back it up, I'm cool with it.

Ok, with that out of the way, how is June today?

I have been busy. I'm at leg therapy for an over a year old leg injury. I'm on day four of fat camp. I organized big meetings. I organized a Happy Hour for a bunch of women in a trade organization that I'm not sure I like. I'm even helping with the big Gala for this organization.

I've been a bit grouchy. I like not doing anything. And having to do things is new and difficult. I'm an American for fuck's sake. I've grown use to not doing anything productive. It smacks against my very American Spirit. Oh the horror of it all.

And on top it, I've had to deal with people. I'm good for about two years at any given job. That's it. Once I really get to know people, I'm itching to leave. It's not really anyone's fault...I just don't like people. What's really a fixture in this, is that I'm great with people. But, I don't like them. There is a small select group that I keep near and dear to me, and that's it....that's all I got.

Case in point:

I am not a snazzy dresser. ( I can be when pressed to do it for money...i.e. work) But, if I could look like shit all the time, I'd do it. (However, please note, I love bath products. Sit back and reflect on that.) I do not think that the clothes make the man, or the woman. Nope. Just a clever disguise to fool the weak minded. Are you sitting there in your mall bought house robe? Don't worry I can't really see you. It's just a blog, not video conferencing...or is it?

I was outside smoking yesterday. We all have to smoke outside, lest we kill someone with the second hand smoke. (I don't mean to sound insensitive, but I really do not care if I harm someone with my dirty smoky habit. I know, I'm an asshole. But, I am truly offended by most peoples' habits, and sometimes I feel little pieces of me actually dying. So, we're even. And, I'm smoking right now, just know that. Know that I am comfortable with that, very comfortable with that.)

So, outside, I was not alone. There were three mortgage company women down there with me. All of the mortgage people are salespeople, they all dress to impress every day, even though they are in a call center. They should be more mindful though, call centers are leaving the U.S. at an alarming rate. None of them have any flare for foreign dress at all, nor do they have competitive accents, and I do fear for their worse, but whatever.

One of the girls had gotten in trouble for wearing open toed sandals. She asked me if I had that problem with a dress code in my job. I said, of course. One of the other girls looked me up and down, and noted that obviously I had won that battle.

Oh, I see. I'm being snubbed. My dresswear was crappy. Oh.

Now, I could have taken the highroad. But, a friend of mine just sent me an article from the NYtimes, ScienceTimes about how boredom makes a person cruel. I think that in the end I am no better.

I ignored to snub, so it looked, and started asking them what they did, exactly. Wasn't I interested? Didn't my engaging smile seem interested? Because they were, after all, terribly interesting people, in a call center with their designer clothes on. Oh they talked. I would repeated it, but mostly I just smiled. I can't really recall any one thing a one of them said. Not one of them. I think one of them was wearing something fushia, if that helps you set the stage in your mind. But, that's all I got, sorry.

They asked what I did, exactly. I help build transportation for the world, I said. I explained to them, that in this area they should see a high rate in their business, because transportation fueled the economic development in an area. Didn't they find that to be true?

They didn't know what I was talking about. The words to big, the concepts to hard. I could have stopped picking on them, but I didn't want to. I think if I had seen the Chocolate Jesus, he would have made an impression on me, and my soul. But, we looked him away.

I explained that I wanted to buy land myself near one of the new projects. Only to turn about and sell it to a developer. One of the girls said that she had a house near one of the big highways. She was excited that she might have suddenly struck it big.

Oh, I said. Houses right next to highways usually went getto if they stayed right next to the fast food restaurants and big malls that went in. She might still have a chance though. Could still work if she didn't buy into something that had a big, but restrictive, and all fooling Home Owners Association...then she might be locked into the getto. Oh, she was. Oh, sorry. But, nice try. Really, nice try. Most people don't know. They don't think ahead and read the public information, I understood.

Maybe next time not buy next to a big highway, watch the papers and the public information sights, and try to sell to the developer before big highway went in. She could probably still use it as some kind of rental property and, at least, try to get some of her money back. She looked worried.

Whether I was correct or not, it not the point. I was poorly dressed and had successfully lobed the insecurity ball right back. Now, I know that they will talk about me behind my back, making snippy comments. However, they will not talk TO me and make snippy comments to my face.

That's ultimately why I don't like most people. That gentle tango of small daily battles, that in the grand scope of things, don't have anything to do with anything of any sort of merit and worth. And we have built and entire society around it. It's boring...and it makes me mean. I am not above the science.

Hats off to Hemingway. He left and went to an island. Now that's a smart man.