The husband-stealer of Independence Avenue

postscript on top: There were two or three 9/11/Ground Zero articles in the City section of The Times I remember reading about a year after 9/11, an article about a young woman who was 9/11ed out. The author considered the woman to be unfeeling and gross. I agreed, but five years later I just don’t need to be reminded so much.

I do understand how important finding bodies is. Don’t need to be reminded that maybe they could have been saved, alive, had people been able to reach them. I’m not unfeeling but I knew that already.

Took this from CooperBush is the new Rove. He distorts Democratic feelings. Most of us would love to see real terrorists punished greatly. But who declared Iraq the center of terrorist activity? Bush. Is Osama Bin Laden there? I greatly doubt it.

There was another article comparing the cost of living and a bit of quality of life between New York and Omaha. I could really get into having a whole house for 142K, my 600 prime square feet cost more than that nine years ago. Though I don’t think that Omaha is the answer for me.

If Bush really wants to help America he could make sure that the costs of 9/11 are bared equally by every person in this country. But he doesn’t. He learned from his mentor Rove that talking against many Americans is a sure fire way to get many people back into the fold, and all cheering, etc. He should have also learned that strategies like that backfire eventually.

Sometimes it dawns on me, all over again, that we have the first administration to take away rights instead of enhancing them. If we keep people in detention centers as we have been doing, we’re no better than our “worst enemies.”

VOTE NEXT WEEK. THIS IS THE ELECTION BEFORE THE ELECTION OF OUR LIFETIME

WE CAN TAKE BACK AMERICA, Let them have their stupid cheer leading sessions. We know what is truly important. We lack a moral compass. We lack empathy, understanding and compassion. But of course not where zygotes are concerned.

A week from Wednesday I will be back to normal non-issue based programing. And yes, I love throwing their words back in their faces.
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I haven’t read the weekend papers yet so I have no idea what’s going on. That’s not a good thing, but I was writing all weekend. Revising and reworking, not anything new and not for Courting.

That’s when I realize I get into non-linear hell as opposed to the opposite when I rework something. I add more thoughts to the original and end up with a jig saw.

The weird thing is I have always loved the editing process. The whittling away to make the piece strong. Blogging actually helps as I can get all the extraneous stuff out.

I would like to thank everybody who covered for me, and everybody who was so supportive. There are more guest bloggers to come, hell there’s always a Dawg, a Bone and a Wombat, and so many more including people who said they would but I forgot to push them, and when I printed out my Gmail calender, the way they said to, everything was on the date before or after it, I forget.

But I managed to over extend my time incredibly, and actually did sign up for two courses at the same time, promise people I would do things at a certain time, and….The irony is that I’m much better without consulting a calender. Except for dental appointments, I remember the date and time. Of course I remember the dental date day, just get the appointments an hour late or once early,

I used to be too disorganized to use a calender, and so developed that skill. Now there are no excuses, and I have learned to compensate for many of the organizational problems. But, obviously, I have flunked time management.

In Stephen King’s memoir/writing book he says he tells people that he takes his birthday and Christmas off, but really….I can relate. He was very defensive about being a “popular” writer. At first I thought it put on. Then I realized that he meant it, and began to think about all the amazing characters he’s thought up.

Though it scares me, I think Carrie is brilliant. The Stand, Misery, The Green Mile and more. Then I realized that being self defensive or self effacing is a great way to get people to like you. Oh yes, I never actually thought that one out before. And I’m so good at.

Last night there was a sound that first sounded like a drop of water. We’re told to be vigilant about floods so I listened, especially since it was coming from above me. And it was Three AM, really had nothing better to think about. It began to sound like a computerized perfectly round drop. It was hypnotic and put me into a deep sleep.

That was good because at 9:30 AM, new time, about twelve kids came out onto the penthouse deck next door with a boom box.

I really really love Sunday mornings because it is so quiet and I can think without drilling, or even the white noise of the Bose Noise Cancelling headphones. The new ones really are better than the imitations, but I don’t think that I should have to have them on all the time.

I live in one of the quietest areas of Manhattan, and loud noise is jarring. I don’t mind the sound of normal traffic zooming down the West Side Highway, I do mind the horns and car alarms.

But I have to expect that. I don’t have to put up with rude parents with way too much disposable income–parts of that penthouse were redone three or more times. They’re not exempt from basic courtesy.

I did something that I have never done before. I screamed at them and said it wasn’t even Ten AM. I can’t believe that I did that and a part of me feels incredibly guilty and another part really good because those kids were obnoxious.

I understand that we live in a childcentric society, but this is a city not the country.

I live across from a park and the river, and that’s wonderful. But there are times that I would love to go on my deck, and do whatever people do on decks. I know I have stayed in many houses with them, and my apartment in Riverdale had a terrace with a dead on view of the World Trade Center, but we had to have fake grass carpets which are magnets for pollen, and I basically shared one with my neighbors, and she thought I wanted to steal her husband.

It’s comical know but I was the husband stealer of Independence Avenue, or so many women thought. Yes, I gave up Manhattan to steal husbands in the Bronx.

I suppose I should feel flattered but the doormen at The Pierre asked me every day for years if I wanted to go to a party, a date, and some other stuff. I remember thinking “wow, that’s about as high as a pro could go, why don’t I feel more worthy, in real life?”

One of my biggest regrets is never taking them up on the offer. It would have been an interesting experience. Though it’s probably better that I didn’t go down that road, I do respect women who do that. Many women then didn’t have what they considered to be marketable skills so they sold their personality and body. I’m getting less into this idea by the second.

My life became very different when I left Manhattan and didn’t steal husbands. Then I moved back and still had no desire to.

I was going to go somewhere with this, but I promised the Dawg this would never be a weight loss or ____blog, and so it won’t be.

And for the record, I have never stolen a husband or had any desire to. I did have one affair when I was 26 with a Senatorial candidate’s bodyguard, but it was never meant to be anything else. And come on, it was a fitting finale to the hippie/glam years, though I dressed punk to go to CBGB’s.

I have always been into dressing in costume, though now I’m basically jeans and sweaters. I suppose it was the costumes that made the doormen at the Pierre ask me. After awhile it did become a joke, but then there would be a new doorman….

Wish that I had this kind of luck with men in real life. But look at Shirley Schmitt (Candice Bergen). Denny Crane (William Shatner) has the Schmitto inflatable doll, Alan Shore (James Spader) wants her–actually he’s going through a great middle aged crisis, Schmitt probably doesn’t have a man in real life, or as real as BL can be. That’s more real than other TV show.

I know that if Shirley ends up with Alan, there is hope for me. Or any other man that’s not Tom Selleck, though he has grown on me.

I can’t believe that I just added Schmitto to the Google dictionary.