Various female topics (w/pics !)

It turns out my stalker is partly Native American. And at the risk of sounding like someone who carries around bare templates of types of people and cultures, (ok, at risk of sounding like a bigot) it may explain why I nicknamed her "make-believe" and "imaginary". For instance, there's no snapping twigs when she approaches.

She's my squaw now. Rubs my back so my shoulders come down from around my ears. I may give up on the klonopin.

Maybe this cultural difference explains her difficult relationship with psychiatry and counselors.

Now she is off prozac, which she truly hated, Dora is suddenly quite distinguished, to my eyes.

For instance, I didn't know she was a book collector. She collects middle-readers from the 1940's, just for their colorfully illustrated dust jackets. Some she will read. Also, she loves to draw and is much better at it than when we met at Eclipse's long term treatment. And she invents fonts which I think are very good. Thankfully, they are not of the popular heavy metal satanic variety. More like letters which would make for nice tall buildings and a great, futuristic skyline, non-Jetsonian though. Original.

She is usually crocheting or something. I ask if it's knitting, crocheting, whatever, and she tells me, and then I forget and ask again and she patiently tells me again, with a laugh.

She is talkative on the phone but when we're together, quiet and affectionate as we watch whatever old movie is on the public access channel. I don't picture her ever trying to get the remote. But before you cringe, anticipating my telling you about her feeding me fruit, she is in control. Read your Shaw. She knows it and I know it. We're sort of role playing, only it's not play.

She is a workaholic, it seems, and is already assistant manager of the Dollar General store where she started just two months ago. Getting off prozac has done wonders. Or, maybe that she finally got out of that net of social workers, she couldn't help but be rude to.

I'm not in love. That doesn't happen until a girl leaves me. And then, it's not love of course but hurt. I think I've been in real love twice in my 45 years, so that seems right. Anyway, I'm going back. And I accept her calls, and she can come over here and I'm proud of her.

Had a rotten childhood. So bad, you'd like to have some people arrested for things they did thirty years ago, or twenty years ago anyway.

Work Project. I've started reading our Citizen Kane's editorials, thinking that's prudent if I'm going to become his confidant and eventual heir. The one I read I agreed with 100%. He knows how not to go out on a limb, at age 80.

As for the circulation scandal, my boxx has scheduled a meeting with Doof's boss, and I have no idea when it is. I hope I'm invited. I'm the only person I know who loves business meetings. I even enjoyed meeting with accountants to discuss COBAL code, once upon a time.

You got your swivel chairs, nice window to look out, some smartly dressed women, time to catch up on your zzzz's of course...

My boxx agreed, I shouldn't be initialing anything anymore. So this weeks records are now turned in, and they prove nothing except that someone claimed something without proof. Is all.

Meanwhile, I've been double-crossed. When I started as "Returns Processor", I was told I'd have weekends off. Now it appears I will work six days every week, and still only around 20, 25 hours.

I am doing my laundry. This is our LadyKenmore.



You lift up the nifty lid, there's the staticy noise of a flourescent light struggling to light itself, and behold, a panel of incomprehensible choices, along with an old fashioned dial.



Like any bachelor, I put all my clothes in one load and wish to choose "cold/warm" or something that won't constitute whatever risk it is we're taking when we do laundry.
I've decided "Cotton Linen Color" is my best bet.

Not sure about that "Selective Dialup Cancel" button, or the "Custom Cares" button. Both suggest a menu should drop down of additional choices, but there's no video action as you can see.

The top buttons are for the real experts. Like your grandmother in 1970. "Automatic Pre-Wash", "Automatic Pre-Soak" (what happens then, the clothes just sit? Then what's automatic about it?)

"Automatic Pre-Wash or Sani-Rinse". All those words on one tab. It's very clear, except what it means.

There's one here, I don't know which, which no one should ever push under ANY conditions. I've made my choice among the bottom row and ignored the top row. Wash is done in about three minutes: there's water, it drains, it fills and empties again, it spins. Three minutes. Really. I love it. And it leaves my some ink stains so people will know I'm a newspaper man.

Thanks for visiting. If you can read any of those buttons, let me know if I should try another. Even just for kicks.