Linda Z

Hang on, Raf, Moony, John and Hope, Belle, Song, and all you other Floridians!

Hey Danny, he never looked like a Baptist in a suit. He always had flair and style, even in twi.

Oh, I see now--it's I.W. I didn't recognize him in the drapes and with the Drew Carey glasses. Plus he had lots more hair when I knew him.

I give up, Satori. Who's the guy in the drapes?

Darn, what did I do with that laurel wreath??? Will a halo do?

Welcome, BluzieQ. What an articulate first post! As a parent, I have to be honest and say it's not always easy for us to hear criticism of our beliefs or views from our children. We should be able to, but in reality, it might be a little tough to swallow. I think Cindy's suggestion of asking your counsellor how to broach the subject is a good idea. An objective person's opinion is valuable in a touchy situation like this. I raised my son in twi from the time he was 5 until he left for college at 18. He's still resentful at times, although I have reminded him that it was probably a better life than he would have had if his mom had remained a dope-smoking, partying hippie thoughout his childhood and youth. He agrees. :-) I'm glad you've been able to forgive your folks. We, as parents, did the best we knew how, imperfect though that might have been. I like what TimTim said, too. Mutual respect is a good thing. If I had family still in twi or zealously promoting all its doctrines, I'd like to hope I could still love and respect them, and it sounds like you do. Hope you find the answer that's right for you.

Congrats, ACE!

From Trefor, our friend from across the pond:

Garth, who did you think Dennis was? :P-->

Wacky...it's Cleveland. :D-->

I think it was Shaz who said she has NASE insurance and is okay with it. I got screwed by them bigtime. The true test of insurance is when you need it for something major. I got stuck with a huge chunk of my hospital bill and large portions of several doctors' bills when I was insured by them when I had surgery. It wasn't anything exotic either...just a gallbladder removal. Shortly after this incident, I read not one but two expose's saying that despite its claims to be an advocate for the self-employed, NASA exists solely to sell insurance and that it's very poor insurance, at that. I'd beware. Those of you who have it, thank God you've been healthy. :)-->

Johnny Depp Chocolat Juliette Binoche

Gee, I never would have seen that coming.

I was just joshin'. I know human hermaphrodites aren't happy. What a confusing way to be born! Oh go ahead, Krys. Maybe we'll learn something!

Happy, though! No cruising singles bars, no waiting for "him" to call. Seriously, I was hoping you'd show up Krys. I vaguely remembered other critters that reproduce in strange ways, and I knew you'd know. It's so nice to have a biology teacer around the house.

Donna probably does (ducking now!).

Shell said: Of course, if someone knew a neighbor was a child molester and didn't report it, he or she would be culpable. But I'm not talking about knowledge about a person's awful deeds. I'm talking about the perception that "something's just not right." You can't call the police because you think someone's weird, obviously, unless that person's weirdness shows up in a way that's illegal or threatening. But just once I'd like a neighbor to say, "I always thought he was strange but couldn't put my finger on it," rather than something like, "He seemed normal." I've seen this said about all types of criminals, not just child molesters. Groucho, even when I was growing up in the fifties--or more recently still, when my son was growing up in the seventies, we knew our neighbors. Kids knew they'd better stay in line, whether they were at home or down the street, because the neighbors knew them and their parents. We had a pair of child molesters in my neighborhood when I was a kid--a grandfather and his grandson. The grandfather shoved my friend's hand into his crotch and made some lewd suggestions about what else she could put there. He was old and feeble. She ran home and told her mother. His grandson exposed himself to my other friend and masterbated in front of her. She was afraid to tell her mother, so I told my mother, and my mother told her mother. I don't think anyone called the police, which now seems so bizarre. But if either of those men showed up where any of us kids were playing, the neighborhood teenage boys were on those pervs like flies on a cow patty, warning them not to come near any of us girls and watching out for us. I'm not aware that either of these men raped anyone (how would I know? I was about 10 or 11 when these incidents happened), but if had and if they'd gotten caught, I wonder what people would have said about them when a news reporter stuck a microphone in their faces.

Gwynneth Paltrow Shallow Hal Jack Black

I always assumed you could look up what's already been posted, to confirm it if you're in doubt. I should have done that before I opened my yap.

The thread about the little girl who was just found and her kidnapper arrested reminded me of something I've been thinking about lately. The man's neighbor said, "He seemed normal." Are these sociopathic killers so good at appearing normal that they fool everyone? Or I wonder, are we as a society so isolated from each other that we never get to know our neighbors well enough to pick up on it when there's something terribly wrong with them? Or maybe we have an inking that something just isn't quite right, but we're in denial or too busy to pay closer attention. Or what??? Maybe some of you who have studied psychology or criminal law can explain how a Ted Bundy or one of these other goofball psycho murderers can "seem normal."

Hi Moony: I was a WOW there in 79-80. We lived on the nice side of the island. Were you still there then?

Well, I'll be. My apologies.

I think this is a fantastic song by Carly Simon about the boredom and restlessness that can set in after many years of marriage. The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of Take a look around now Change the direction Adjust the tuning Try a new translation Don’t look at your man in the same old way Take a new picture Just because you don’t see shooting stars Doesn’t mean it isn’t perfect Can’t you see... It’s the stuff that dreams are made of It’s the slow and steady fire It’s the stuff that dreams are made of It’s your heart and soul’s desire It’s the stuff that dreams are made of So what’s this about your best friend? She’s got a brand new shiny boy And they’re moving out to malibu To play with all his pretty toys And you feel closed in by the same four walls The same old conversation With the same old guy you’ve know for years But use your imagination And you will see.... It’s the stuff that dreams are made of It’s the slow and steady fire It’s the stuff that dreams are made of It’s your heart and soul’s desire It’s the stuff that dreams are made of What if the prince on the horse in your fairytale Is right here in disguise And what if the stars you’ve been reaching so high for Are shining in his eyes Don’t look at yourself in the same old way Take another picture Shoot the stars off in your own backyard Don’t look any further And you will see It’s the stuff that dreams are made of....

Rascal said: I surely understand how you feel, Rascal, being a mom and having been married, but I really had to laugh when I read this, because you're wishing you could work full-time, and I'm wishing I could be home doing laundry and catching up on the cleaning and actually cooking instead of throwing something in the microwave. Honestly, I don't find it all that fun to get up at 6 am every day, find something presentable to wear, and drive 45 minutes to work in rush hour. Once there, I "get to" interact with doctors who are so stupid at following instructions in submitting their manuscripts and photos for publication that it truly astounds me that they're allowed to use sharp instruments. I "get to" interact with a boss who has an Ivy League diploma but who can't organize two pencils, a few control freaks, and a Prez/CEO who's a dear but has no clue what it takes for our staff to get things done and just cooks up more projects with impossible deadlines. And then I get to fight the traffic again to get home. I "get to" interact with the people I supervise, and they're truly great people, but somedays it's like being a babysitter. Some days I get respect, but most days I bust my butt way beyond my "job description" and all I get is a headache and a couple more projects with unreasonable deadlines. Now, it sounds like I should get a new job. Au contraire. I have a good job, and I do know I'm appreciated, even though it doesn't seem so in the day-to-day grind. I have good benefits and most of the people I work with are great. So for all the negatives I just rattled off, there are more positives, or I'd bail in a heartbeat. I think there's a parallel with marriages. For all the wet towels on the floor and piled-up trash and such, there are many benefits, unless you're married to a complete a$$. Often I've known people (both men and women) who felt "unfulfilled" or unappreciated and decided the solution was to leave their spouses. Well, truth be told, they found out the grass isn't really greener on the other side of the fence...they just couldn't see the weeds and crabgrass from where they were viewing it. :)--> It isn't a perfect world, and there are advantages and disadvantages both to being married and being single. As long as you're dealing with people--whether in a family or in a job--you're going to be dealing with their less appealing attributes. Sometimes I like being single. No one tells me what to do, and I can come and go as I please and pursue any hobby or interest I like. But I'm so busy working I have little time for the fun stuff. I sometimes miss being married, even though it's been a lot of years since I was. There's a sense of safety and familiarity and comfort (in between being annoyed with each other--LOL) that can't be found outside a marriage (or even a long-term committed relationship that functions like one).

Tref is right. Ray Walston wasn't in the movie. I believe we're back to jumping off from Robin Williams.