It Can Never Be Real If They Never See Your Face

I'm in a funk. I need to vent, but there's no one to talk to, no one I can dump it all on, yet I feel perfectly comfortable baring my soul to the entirety of the innerwebs.. so here goes:

So, there was this man. It always starts that way doesn't it?

Anywho...

I met him a few years ago, sort of, in Second Life, a virtual world where I was beautiful and brave. He sang in pixelated nightclubs, mimicking Sinatra, Buble, rat packy cool with snapping fingers and witty chatter between songs, all broadcast from his tiny home office in a spare bedroom in his Dallas home.

We got to know each other over time and eventually became a "thing." He sent me an email every morning, we talked about his kids, his wife (yes, wife,) our jobs, our moms.. everything. At night, we'd meet in that other world, he'd call me his kitten and make me feel loved.

It went on for three years. His was the shoulder I'd cry on when Ma would go nuts, when Bossholio was being a jerk face, when the truck ran out of gas and when I had horrible revelations in therapy. I'd send him a text and he was there, even though we never really met. As long as I had my phone, I knew I wasn't alone. He vented to me when his daughter moved back home, bringing his new grandson with her, when they called from his mother's nursing home and when his sweet little dog passed away.

That first winter, we had a horrible snow storm in the holler. The power was out for days. When it really started getting to me, being cut off from everyone, all the batteries going dead, running out of lamp oil and Ma having a crazy spell, he sent me texts that night, making up a story as he went, keeping my mind occupied until I fell asleep. No one had ever treated me like he did.

I told myself that it was okay that he was married, I was providing something in his life that she couldn't. I knew, with my warped and broken past, I could never be everything to anyone. This was all I could provide.   Which, looking back, I realize is the same bullshit I've fed myself over the years whenever I get involved with someone who belongs to someone else.

I'm never The One. I've always been The Other One.

My therapist pointed out that it probably goes back to my childhood. I associated relationships with men with secrets, lies.. don't tell anyone, they wouldn't understand.. blah blah blah.

Our second Christmas, I made him a card with my picture. My real picture. I was over confident, thought everything else would over ride my hideous face. I spent an entire Saturday in the RV taking pictures of myself, something I never do, trying to get an angle that didn't make me look like a nasty old hag. I nearly had a full blown anxiety attack when he accepted it.

He was kind about it, but things changed. The following year was spent with my trying desperately to hang on to something that wasn't there anymore. He started acting distant, our conversations got weird, a result of his trying to keep up a conversation with someone else at the same time. He'd type in the wrong window, answering someone else's questions when he was talking to me.

It was Santino (without the Mafia bullshit) all over again.

I looked the other way, pretended not to notice. Deep down I knew what did it. The picture. The face. It happens every time.

Maybe it was his insecurity that made him back away. Maybe it was his fear that I'd insist he share the same. He didn't know I have mad stalking skills (if you knew me back in the dolphie days, you understand.) He didn't know that just a couple of months after we met, I'd found his daughter's MySpace page, I'd seen pictures of his whole family, including his much-prettier-than-me wife, taken at his beautiful girl's wedding. I'd seen his twinkling eyes, his smile, his receding hairline and his pudgy tummy. I'd already seen him in a kilt and combat boots, taken at an Irish fest and shoving a piece of cake in his mouth.

It was then that I really fell for him.

The last time I heard from him was December 29th. I never answered the email. I figured.. he'll think about it and he'll miss me. He'll realize that behind my hideous face, my disgusting body, was still the person he'd said he loved.

But I've not heard a world. I thought maybe he'd wonder how I was, visit hiddenmahala. I watched my Statcounter for hits from his isp.

Nothing.

I don't know why now, nearly five months later, it's finally hit me. It's the first time I've cried. I feel stupid, embarrassed and ridiculous. I miss listening to him sing, turning the computer speakers up all the way, catterwallin' along while I work on jewelry. Maybe it's because it seems like everything keeps breaking, the sewer line messing up, the tv cut off.. you know.. life.. and there's no one to tell.

I dunno.

I haven't been back to the virtual world. I've considered deleting my account.

I know what some of ya'll are thinking. I should have known. Shouldn't have been chasing a married man to begin with. It's wrong. I got what I deserve. And maybe you're right.

Later Taters.

Free Drugs, Hot Gossip and Second Life

It's a hundred and fifty mutha feckin degrees bright and sunny in the holler this morning. The light breeze from my office fan cools the slight moisture forming on my brow and the trail of sweat running down my back side making the temperatures in the Asylum almost but just barely bearable.

The new air conditioner has been approved by corporate. Depending on who you ask, either some guy with a truck or a major appliance company will be here either the end of this week, the end of next week or the end of July to either put in a new system or pump the old one (illegally) full of freon.

I'm wearing tank tops, Lulu's wearing her short britches and Thelma's hair, which is normally wild and woolly lookin' has a strange, groomed quality I've never seen before. You can forget makeup.

Think.. "The Office" meets "Survivor" with a little "My Name is Earl" thrown in.

Back at the trailer, Ma has finally agreed to let me put a small ac unit in her bedroom. I made a beeline for Lowes before she changed her mind and picked up not one, but two of the smallest ones they carried. I couldn't really afford two, but with the lack o' air here at the Asylum and the sweltering temperatures, it sure did sound nice to lay down in a nice cool bedroom at night. I did some quick calculations in my head while I stood at Lowes, fixin' to put the second one in the cart. I'd just about talked myself out of it when I remembered I'd squirreled some extra away in savings.

I think I can make it work.

When I got them home and opened the first one to find the whole side of it bowed out where it had been squished, probably at the factory (the box was undamaged) I lost my composure. Ya'll remember last year when I bought the big one for the living room, that week when everything was dying, getting run over and breaking? Yeah.. I'm probably the only person in the world who can look at a smooshed air conditioner and end up sitting in the floor crying over her dead cat.

Naw.. I'm not nutty.. much.

I had to go to Big City yesterday for a follow up doctors appointment anyway, so I added returning the smooshed unit to my list of things to do while I was out. The doc gave me four more months worth of free "keep your daily crazies at bay" drugs and made sure I had enough "omg I'm gonna die from the heebie jeebies" drugs to last me a while, then sent me on my way.

I stopped for lunch, made a swing by the nail salon (I had to get all hookerlicious) then to Lowes where I exchanged the smooshed unit for a new one and over to Walmart to pick up Ma's peed-a-little pads and some Cokes.

I was tired by the time I got home ya'll.

After work today I head back to the noggin Doc.. only this time, I'm not nervous about it. I'm actually looking forward to it.. which.. I think.. is a good thing.

One a side note, I've been spending some time reviving my Second Life blog and I'm really proud of how it came out. I know most of ya'll aren't into that sort of thing, but if you wanna take a peek, it's over here. Be forewarned, it's not for the faint of heart or the easily offended.

Anywho, I'd better get to work. Ya'll take care and stay cool. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Mahala is Upgraded

This morning, I volunteered to go pick up the mail for the office so that I could check for my package and mail my truck payment. It normally takes about fifteen minutes to run down there, grab the mail, socialize with the folks hanging around the post office and get back to work.

But not today.

I stood in line for thirty minutes. When I finally made it to the desk and asked if I had any packages, Postal Employee Rosie sighed heavily and with great angst before walking to the back of the building, grabbing the big, wheeled package basket and pushing it up to the counter.

"What 'cha lookin' fer?"

I half expected her to tell me to come back there and dig through it myself.

She poked around in the basket-cart-doohickey until she found a box from Wal-Mart with my name on it. Hallyfreakinloo-ya.

When I went home for lunch, I ripped into the box, whipped out the vacuum cleaner and a flashlight, cracked open my computer case and attempted to install the new memory. There was a chitload of cat hair and bird feathers in there. It's no wonder the fan had been grunting and groaning like it was about to die. After a little bodily contorting.. no easy feat with a broken toe and sore muscles, left over from my weekend adventure.. I managed to waller, poke and prod the memory chips in to place.

Why are they ALWAYS behind a big azz hunk o' wires?

Anywho, all went as planned and the upgrade was in place a total of 20 seconds before I'd logged on to Second Life to see if I could tell a difference. Okay.. Second Life was NOT the primary reason for spending $100 of the grocery money on a substantial memory upgrade for my computer. I did it so that I could work with Photoshop more efficiently, hopefully resulting in some additional income.

No really... don't look at me like that.

The added advantage of being able to run around Second Life unhindered is just frosting on the cake. If you ever visit Second Life, look me up: Mahala Roviana.

Honest injun.

Ooooo and now I can use Yahoo messenger again too. I hadn't thought about that. When they upgraded it last time, my little computer laid down and said "NO!" On Yahoo: hidden.mahala (don't forget the dot.)

Anywho.. it's nearly time to go home and I have to stop at the dolla store for more potting soil. Me and the Amazon are on a planting spree.

Ya'll have a good one...

Later Taters!

Of Melungeons, Second Life and Polyester Pants

Okay ya'll, I'm late, but at least it's with a meme and not like... the kind of late that inspires you to knit booties.

I'm a little past that stage in my life.. although I hate to admit it.

Bobbi over at Almost There tagged me with this one and I'm embarrassingly late, so let's jump right in, kay?

The Rules:

Link to the person who tagged you.
1. Post the rules on your blog.
2. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
3. Tag six random people at the end of your post, by linking to their blogs.
4. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
5. Let your tagger know when your entry is up.

Here's my six:

1. As I child, I was forced to take lucky enough to have bowling lessons. That's right... bowling, of the duck pin variety. This was years before the banjo lessons.

See? That I'm such a hopeless geektard is not purely by accident.

2. My mama dressed me funny for my entire childhood. I wore polyester pants (with the seam up the front) with sweat socks and sneakers. The pants were never quite long enough. Yes.. I was that child. The Amazon says my slacks are still too short, but at least no one throws rocks anymore.

3. Ma also liked to give me home perms, lots of them. Oh and those damned Frost and Tip kits. They seldom turned out as they were intended. Once, while in the hospital for surgery, I was left sitting in the hallway, waiting for a test or something. A nurse told me she thought she'd misplaced me, that from the back I didn't look like a 12 year old, she thought I was an old woman, because of my hair.

Thanks Ma.

4. I grew up thinking I was basically of Irish/German decent with a little Cherokee tossed in. My dad was a terrible racist. It tickles the chit out of me that I've since learned that I'm more Melungeon (a dark skinned racial mix of southern hillfolk) than anything else and that it's mostly on dear old Daddy Bigot's side. Someday I'm going to get up the nerve to laugh in his multi-racial, prejudiced face.

5. I really am an honest to goodness inbred hillbilly. My Mamaw's mother and my Papaw's mother (on Dad's side) both had the same maiden name and were from the same isolated mountain community. I am allowed to make jokes about it but I get a little touchy if others do.

6. Although I've downgraded my account, sold all my land and shut down my virtual business, I still log on to Second Life a couple of times a week. It's a nice escape and I have friends I love spending time with. Living in a remote area like Frog Pond Holler, it's kinda cool to be able to log on to a virutal environment, hang out at the beach, go dancing or just loiter with friends. I'm Mahala Roviana on the SL grid, look me up :)

And there you have it. My six random quirky things. I'm going to break the rules a little and not tag anyone. If you want to grab it, go for it and let me know in the comments. I'll give ya a little linky love.

My intention is to come back later and tell ya'll all about my trip last night to Scary Hillbilly Town, but I'm not making any promises. I don't want Bah to worry over my salvation if life gets in the way again (see previous post comments.)

Ya'll enjoy your Saturday.

Later Taters!

PS: Just in case you were wondering, that's my Mamaw on the left in that picture, with her sisters and brother. There were more youngins after the baby you see there.

Bubbles Lost It!

Ya'll will never believe what happened yesterday here at the Asylum. You know Bubbles, right? The bible thumping holy roller in the next cubie? The one that oozes so much fake sweetness, there should be a cancer warning stamped on her forehead?

Yesterday.... she said ass.

More specifically, she became very angry and after slamming the phone back into it's cradle, stated that one of our customers was "such a big ass!"

You see, here at the Cubilce Asylum, we're going through a bit of a rough phase. Most communication with our customers consists of informing them that the orders we had scheduled to ship at the end of September might ship by the end of October. This translates in to alot of unhappy campers. Bubbles has an unusual approach to handling these calls. She usually laughs it off, saying things like "Oooops! I guess I lied to you.. I didn't know I was a liar! Ahahahahaha! I better go to church tonight!! Ahahahahahaha! *giggle* My daddy says I wouldn't know the truth if it bit my hind end! Ahahahahahaha!"

Most of our customers have dealt with her long enough that they just go along with it, but needless to say, there is the occasional client, who probably has lots of cash tied up in our product and just does not see the humor in the situation that Bubbles seems to. I guess yesterday, Bubbles was talking to one of those clients and got her little hind end chewed when she laughed and carried on, trying to be cute.

Cracks me up..

Anywho, fellow blogger JaniceNW has awarded me with:



"This award casts a spotlight on bloggers who are just beginning to draw lotsa attention — the equivalent of a song with a bullet on Billboard’s Top 100 chart. Lotsa good posts. Lotsa good buzz. These bloggers are going places in a hurry."

I think this is so cool, thanks JaniceNW! I'd like to pass it along to a couple of people:

Allaban Badr al Din (Something about this blogger might seem familiar.. some of the posts might even seem familiar, from a slightly different view point. Y'all are smart.. you'll figure it out:)
No Accent Yet
Not Much Southern Comfort

That first link is only going to be up for a limited time, for reasons that will become apparent, be forewarned.

I've been working on another writing project, creating a blog spotlighting SecondLife. I realize that most of you probably don't have an interest in the virtual world, but if your curious and want to check it out, ya'll are welcome to stop by SecondSlice.

I'd best go do some actual work now... or take my morning walk. All that linky love took all my mental reserves, I need a break! Ya'll have a good one.

Zombies, Allergies and TGIF

I'm enjoying the cool breezes we've been experiencing in the early morning hours. I can not wait for the first freeze to hit and knock whatever the hell it is causing all the allergy symptoms to die. I've been walking around looking like death warmed over because if I even think about putting make up on before coming to work, my throat gets scratchy and my eyes blur up so bad, I'd end up with eyeliner on my forehead.

Now there's a fashion statement for ya.

At least being half wigged out on allergy medicine makes dealing with Cubicle Asylum a little easier.

Today promises to be better though. I'm listening to Stevie Nicks sing, "And you see your Gypsy.. you see your Gypseehhhhhhhhhh," on JackFM, the coffee is warm and rich and the bathroom door isn't locked. Things are looking up.

A few days ago I mentioned that my Second Life business had been infested by zombies, bringing profits to a screeching halt. Last night I was finally able to fix it.. well sort of. I turned tail and ran, selling the land and moving the whole operation completely. It'll work out for the best in the long run I suppose.

Stupid zombies.

Anywho, I'd better get my tushie in gear. It's Friday.. and I can't wait to get this one in the can. Ya'll have a good one :)

Cranky Bubbles and Second Life

We've got alot of ground to cover this mornin' ya'll, so top off that cup of coffee and get comfy.

I broke two of my own steadfast blogging rules yesterday. I left a sponsored post at the top of the page and promised a post later in the day that I didn't write. I've been having one of those spells where I get home from work and just zone out and doze off. I hate when I get like this, I can't accomplish anything. I usually wake up around bedtime, one side of my face all mushed in with the design of the couch upholstery etched into my cheeks and a bit of drool plastering my hair down.

Oooooooooo sexay sexay!

*snort*

Bossman returned to the office this morning and was pleased to find I'd booked nearly 150K in his absence. Go me. He couldn't just take that and be happy... no he had to look at Bubbles and say, "So what did you do?"

That went over like a dead pigeon.

Bubbles has already been cranky. She didn't like that Lulu went out and bought a new vehicle, stealing her thunder, or that after spending half a day with the telephone man yesterday, her little headset idea didn't work and she's still harboring resentful feelings over my computer.

Just another day in paradise!

Yesterday Meritt asked about my Second Life business. The short answer, which may give you the wrong impression, is that I have two parcels of land, each of which have a private room stocked with the items required for your cute little avatars to get their groove on.. you know.. chicka chicka boom boom.

No wait.. let me explain...

I've been on Second Life since October of last year. For those of you who aren't familiar, SL is a virtual world (or game) where there is no "point" or "goal." It is simply a place to create and live another life. People run businesses, make friends, attend classes, just chat and hang out, go dancing... whatever floats your virtual boat. Oh yeah and there is LOTS of shopping. The currency in SL is the $L or linden dollar which can be exchanged for US dollars at a rate of about $L 270 = $1. There are stories of people who have quit their first life jobs because they're making more in their second life, mostly virtual real estate dealers, but I think that's pretty rare. I'm not making a killing, but I haven't had to pay for my monthly membership fee or my land use fees out of my own pocket since I first upgraded my account. My business makes my second life self supporting.

Having said all that, it's only fair to mention that along with all of the virtual art galleries, the poetry readings and the platonic friendships in SL, there is also a lot of sex. There are strip clubs, escort services and assorted public nookie parks. As in first life, you make choices about where you want to be and the type of people you want to associate yourself with. As I've gotten to know more about the whole virtual life experience, I realized there was a shortage of places for couples to be alone together, so I created two parks with benches, trees, ponds, areas for slow dancing and piped in sappy love songs. Both parks include paid access to a private room above the clouds where couples can be alone. Some say I'm a virtual nookie peddler. I like to think I'm selling discretion.

Anywho, that's what I do in my Second Life. Just call me madam.

I'd better get to work.. Bossman is lurking in the hallway. The party's over.

Cars, Dreams and Repairs

Did we all survive the weekend unscathed? Aside from this nasty sinus junk, I got through it okay. Well that and the heat. If I ever move, it's going to be somewhere cooler. I think Gwen Stefani said it best when she sang, "this shit is bananas." Okay so, she wasn't singing about the weather, but if she lived in Frog Pond Holler in August, she would be.

On the car front, I have good news and bad news. The good news is, Lulu got herself a brand new, fine and dandy 2007 Kia Sportage (just like the picture I posted yesterday.) I walked in her office this morning and asked, "So, did you go to the Kia place?" and she didn't stop talking for 20 minutes. I thought we were going to have to go borrow an oxygen tank from the little old asthmatic that lives at the bottom of the hill. She got a really good deal, including a substantial discount using her Sam's card. Lulu is ruthless when it comes to trading vehicles, she's made salesmen cry. I went outside and drooled over it, it looks really nice... especially sitting there next to the hippy van with it's purple duct tape remnants around the door from when we had to put plastic over the window.

The bad news? With the deals, discounts and Lulu's ruthless trading abilities, the payments are still more than I can afford. I just can't swing it. The bright side is that I'm not planning on trying to get a new one until after the first of the year, so who knows what can happen between now and then. Maybe my Second Life business will finally take off and gain extreme popularity and generate enough income to make a car payment. Or maybe my blog will go viral and I'll suddenly start making crap loads of money, making enough to afford a Beemer, which will look awesome parked in front of my trailer.

Ya never know, it could happen.

Oh yeah, remember that air conditioner leak that suddenly stopped on its own? Remember how I joked that the floor would probably rot away under it? Well, there's now a big dip in the floor, about a square foot where either the floor has sagged, becoming detached from the linoleum or has broken completely through. Our current solution to the situation? Walk around it. I may run to town and get myself box cutter and just cut that section of linoleum out myself and see what I have to deal with before I call anyone. Hell if it goes all the way through, I'll unclog the stupid AC drain while I'm under there.

I really don't like doing handyman chores. I suck at it.

Anywho, I'd better get to work. I hope ya'll have a good Monday :)

Amazons, Seagulls, Ferguson and Christmas Trees

Good mornin' chilluns! Hump day is in the can, the weekend will be here soon. I get to take the Amazon back to school this Saturday, hopefully for the last time. The next time I bring her home there won't be a return trip to Greensboro to follow.

As I sit at my desk this morning, gagging down sipping a can of Rich Chocolate Royale Slim-Fast Optima and a cup of coffee, I've been reflecting on events of the past few weeks.

First I'd like to give thanks that Anna Nicole Smith is finally buried. I'm embarrassed by the amount of stress I experienced knowing she was sitting in the cooler, her expiration date quickly approaching, while everyone fought over where to dig the hole. I'm not judging her family or other supposed loved ones in any way, no one thinks straight at these times. I'm just thankful it's done. On a side note, the Florida judge who drug the whole thing out in his courtroom for a week, blubbering like a damned fool, for no reason other than to glorify his own intentions needs to be re-introduced to the purpose and duties of his position. Ain't no damned sense in that.

Next, there seems to be an invasion of sorts taking place in Cocke County, Tennessee. The Amazon and I went there Monday to do some shopping at Fred's, CVS and Food City.. and there was a Walmart pharmacy battle, but it's still too fresh to tell you about. I don't want to get myself all cranked up first thing in the morning. Anywho.. as we left Fred's, the Amazon noticed a flock of birds swarming the parking lot. The Amazon doesn't have a good history with birds, there have been several incidents beginning in her early childhood where she's had close encounters with these lovely winged creatures. Let's just say birds make her nervous. I, however am fine with them, except for chickens who, I've decided are demon fowl. Upon closer inspection we noticed that these were not your typical mountain dwelling birds, they were seagulls. Now, I grew up about ten minutes from the beach in Virginia, I know a seagull when I see one and there were at least 20 of them swarming the parking lot there at Fred's. The Amazon was not impressed, afraid to get out of the van, convinced they'd followed her from Greensboro and had it out for her. I on the other hand, was amazed and giggling excitedly each time they screeched. It was like a message from home and so damned cool. I took pictures, which I've not uploaded from my camera yet, but will soon. I know there are one or two of you who live in those East Tennessee mountains, I'd love to hear if ya'll have seen any gulls around your area.

Let's see... what else is going on....

Bubbles caught me with my earplugs in. I told her I was wearing them to help me concentrate. She's been a lot quieter.. I think I must have hit a nerve.

There was a major "incident" here at work the other night, the details of which I won't elaborate on, other than to day there was a helicopter, an ambulance and law enforcement involved. I bring it up only to point out that after all of that commotion, we still found ourselves without ANY supervisor or management personnel here for about an hour yesterday afternoon. It's like they're just begging for a lawsuit.

Oh.. I'm ashamed to admit this.. honest I am.. but the Christmas tree is still standing on the dog crate in the corner of the living room. It's getting to the point where I may just say forget it and leave it up till next year. I'm sorry Merritt, I know that makes you want to break out in hives. It'll be ok.. the cat likes to sleep under it anyway.

In the midst of all this, at least there's still Craig Ferguson to start my mornings. I'm a little fond of John Tesh as well.. not THAT John Tesh.. you'd have to see it to understand. I've contemplated putting a little shrine to the Fergburger in the little lobby/welcome area of my Second Life based business. How do ya'll think he'd feel knowing his face graced the wall of the lobby of what has been described there as "Mahala's little love nest in the sky?" I could put him right next to Fifi the guard poodle. I need free stuff to give away to increase traffic and in turn improve my position in the business listing. Maybe I could give away free Ferguson tee shirts.. or thongs.. or Speedos!! YES!!! Lots of Europeans on Second Life.. they'd appreciate a nice high quality Speedo. I wonder if I'd be in violation of licensing laws by putting Craig Ferguson's likeness upon the hiney end of Euro-avatars, jiggling across the sands of the beaches in the glow of eternal sunsets?

I'll have to think about this....

As for now, I'd best get back to work.

Ya'll be blessed :)

Lunch with Mahala

The Amazon is home for spring break this week. There have been endless discussions about Weight Watchers points, fat grams, carbs, the best / worst bottled waters and those little 100 calorie snack packs. I've decided to start hitting the Slimfast again. I lost alot of weight on it before and to be honest, I'm reaching a state of desperation.

Slimfast has changed since I used it before. Now it's Slimfast "Optima" with fewer calories and some secret special formula to make you feel fuller longer. I'm not sure if it makes you feel any fuller, but it has a much stronger gag factor than it did before. It'll make you not care if you ever eat again. It's nasty tasting. I'm gagging it down religiously though, something's gotta give. I'm tired of slagging around like Jabba the Hillbilly.

I know I pick on poor Bubbles more than I should, but do ya'll know what it's like to hear someone chowing down on not one but two egg sandwiches from the diner.. with cheese and extra mayo mind you, while you're gagging down a can of Slimfast? One of these mornings I may just go over the edge, scaling the cubicle wall on a seek and devour mission, kicking her ass and liberating that greasy egg sandwich from her chubby little fingers.

But only one of the sandwiches, I gotta cut back ya know.

In other news...

My Second Life business venture now makes enough money to pay my membership fee. You have to have a premium membership to own land, they have you over a barrel that way. It's been a lot of fun, exploring different marketing options, sort of like playing with Monopoly money. The exchange rate is something like $1 US = $L271, so $4 buys you around $L1000. I've almost made back my initial investment after only a month. If any of you ever find your way into SL, look me up. I'm not hard to find, I'm Mahala there too .. and there aren't that many with that name.

This is me and a friend dancing on the beach in Second Life....

Ya'll just have to overlook the skimpy bikini.

Anyway, I'd better get back to work. Ya'll have a good day :)

I'm not sure how, but I know it'll be okay...

I'll just bet ya'll thought you were rid of me.

HA!

Not hardly :)

I'm alive, the Amazon is home for the winter holiday and Ma is..well.. Ma. The critters are all fat and sassy, the Charlie Brown Christmas tree is assembled and decorated, perched atop the dog crate in the corner of the living room and I'm still chugging along at the Cubicle Asylum.

Frog Pond Holler is all spiffed up with tacky dollar store decorations. We had our parade last weekend, which I attended and I managed to take a few blog worthy pictures before my camera batteries went belly up. I'll post those in a day or two.

No really. I will.

I know I've been a naughty blogger and I intend to remedy that immediately. Some of you have emailed me with concerns, not to worry. I've just been in a funk. That dark gray cloud of impending holiday stress, a serious lack of funds, the worsening condition of the hippy van.. it all seems to pile up emotionally and when I get in that frame of mind, I withdrawl from everything.

I still watch Craig Ferguson every morning and yes, he still manages to make me laugh, even when I'm trying to claw my way through that thick gray cloud. He's been wearing a tie lately, which scared the hell out of me at first. The only other time I'd seen him in one was when someone died. The other morning I was almost late for work when his segment with Julia Sweeney turned into a deep, thoughtful discussion on the existence of God. Ya'll know I eat that stuff up.

As for the tie, he does look sharp all dressed up. But then, in all honesty, he could show up in plaid knee length shorts, black knee socks, a 1970's red polyester leisure suit jacket and a shower cap. I'd still get all hot and bothered, although I would feel the need for a fashion intervention.

If I can make it through the rest of the work day, I'll be off until next Tuesday. So, consider this a warning. There will be stories galore as I get ya'll caught up on the goings on in my life.

Oh and, yes I'm still hanging out in Second Life. There I can lounge on the beach in a bikini, listen to 80's tunes, chatting up bikers, beach bums and a variety of scantily dressed individuals. I know I've never shared a picture of the real me here, but I will show ya'll how I look there. As soon as I figure out how.

Baby steps.

I even bought a horse there. A big black one with feathered hooves that I can ride on the beach.

Sometimes fantasy helps us get through reality.

Time to get back to the asylum.

Happy Holler-Days!!

Back in the Swing of Things

Lord just let me get through today....

I only have to work Monday next week, then I'm off until the following Monday. Of course, there will be two fun-filled driving adventures to G'boro, but it doesn't matter. Anywhere but the cubicle asylum is fine with me.

In regards to the Amazon's comments about Second Life, just rest assured that as long as she knows about my blogsite, I'll never have any secrets from ya'll. Yes, I have spent more time that I should on that particular part of the internet, but now that I've got the basics figured out it should taper off.

Sheesh.. some people's offspring.

I have major plans to make another attempt to quit smoking after the first of the year. The reason I'm waiting until then is because I need to wait until there are no long driving trips in the immediate future. That seems to be my downfall everytime. After I take the Amazon back to school followng the winter break, my intention is to quit for good... again. I've decided that I don't care if I gain so much weight that I'll have to be pushed around in a wheel barrel and we have to cut a new door on the trailer for my fat ass to get through, I have to quit.

So in the meantime.. buy stock in Nicorette.

Another Day, Another Buck Fifty Eight

I made it through another day. HOOO ray.

No word from Wendel, but tensions are running high at the office. We now have a security keypad lock on the front door and the poor folks out on the floor are forbidden to open any out there. It's like being in prison. We're locked up, but Wendel is running amuck.

Something doesn't smell right to me.

The powers that be at our office are famous for poo-pooing any concerns the rest of us have. The fact that they're being so over-the-top with security makes me wonder if they know more than they're telling us. They had a door open out in shipping this afternoon when it had gotten really warm, which prompted an immediate mandatory meeting of all employees. It was absolutely forbidden to have any doors open and if you exited the building and failed to secure the door after you left, even if it was to just go to your car to get something, you would be written up.

Oh it's gettin' a little nutty at the O.K. Corral.

Enough of that... next topic.

A few months ago I stumbled upon an article about an online community of sorts called "Second Life." I've always been curious about the "Sims" type games, but I've kept my distance because, let's face it, I really don't need one more reason to sit on my fat ass butt in front of the computer. This however, had a different twist. It's a virtual world created by the residents. It's not a game, there is no beginning or end. It has it's own economy and from what I've read, you can actually enter into business there with very little investment. The basic account is free, with the only real limitation being that you can't "own" land.

I've read several articles and I've wanted to check it out, but I was cautious. Last night I finally gave in and had my first "Second Life" experience. I'm ashamed to admit that I'm still wandering around in the orientation phase, bumping into people, walking off the edges of cliffs and landing in bushes. You stay there until you feel comfortable enough to move on to the big bad world. It's sad that I enjoy going into a virtual world on a computer screen and sitting on a bench, eavesdropping on other people's conversations. Every so often, some goofball will strip off their clothes (they're not exactly anatomically correct) and go streaking by waving their arms.

Yeah, that's all the excitement I can handle at this point.

Part of what has drawn me is the possibility that I may figure out a way to actually generate some income. I'm not banking on it, but hey, it's worth a shot. That will come later, when I stop flying head first into walls.

Two more days. We'll make it. Friday never looked so good.

Later Taters.