Not dead yet. But enjoy the silence.

Excerpts to update you via e-mail ramblin' with my beautiful friends:

I like it when kids say things their parents told them but don’t know it’s funny. Hannah (just remember her as my 7 year old daughter/wife – she picked between me and Drew Barrymore, who knows) told me, of her new house, “We live next to a peach orchard, and Mamie (that’s her mom/my friend) told me to tell you that we’re going to get some peaches. And you can come with us but we have to go at night.” I died laughing, and she looked at me like she wanted a divorce.

If I told you that story before, blame it on my mini-stroke.

Speaking of jobs and my take on it:
Yesterday, my computer died, and my first thought was, truly, to shove it out the window, watch it fall to its death, pick up my black bag with all my favorite shit in it, and join the Peace Corps. But my friend said, "You? Bee, you can't be in the Peace Corps -- they'd send you straight to darkest part of Africa, I bet! Can you imagine that?!" (sfx: his uncontrollable laughter at me, but he's right, I hate the heat and I'm scared of giant bugs that live in the dark); but then I stopped and thought "It's the power supply," and one beautiful person at work showed me how to replace it myself. So really, new plan: Join the Posh Corps instead, get stationed in (somewhere not hot with no giant bugs), and help people fix computers instead. Good story, huh? Witness the caffeine. I love PG Tips tea, pyramid tea bags. So good they should call it something besides tea: pgmoment.com/teas/

What’s for lunch? Thai food here, so they tell me.

Today's most blogged headline, I'm sure:

"101 Reasons Why Northwest Airlines Sucks"
(or 102, if you count outsourcing the list to begin with):

See the complete story here,
unless you are
(refer to #46)
too busy diving in dumpsters.

Hey! Me, too! I thought you looked familiar.

Heard it on NPR this morning, that #46
brought tears to some eyes.
No doubt.

Gee.
But after all the denial,
anger, bargaining, depression,
and acceptance,
and the lesser known but possible stages
of numbness, disorganization and reorganization,
how do you cope if
you already do all of this except ride a bike to work?
You're working harder and not thinking smarter:
Maybe ride a rickshaw,
tow a few expendable bodies to work with you,
make some cash.
Does everything have to be spelled out for y-o-u?
I'm sure this idea list will just grow and grow and grow.

Gotta go now, gotta make a baby stroller
out of secondhand paperclips and used stickie notes.

Back to work, citizens!

Go right on ahead.
Think I'm all stank-up on the meth, if you want.
But now that I think of the vast possibilities,
this job may be perfect for me.
Yes.
I want to be a pimp.
One named Candy Beans.
For the clothing, the customized Rolls,
the hand-decorated chalice,
and of course, for the occasional beatdowns of prostitutes,
but again, only from time to time.
You know how it is.
I could contract out that beating gig though...
Well. This whole thought is just a working draft for now.
But I have to admit, it's either this or join the circus...
I'm sure I'd get more respect with a gold-plated Glock.
And to be honest, clowns are just so terrifying.
So really, the decision has been made for me.

Paris Hilton bit on the arm by her pet kinkajou.
Fortunately, much like her singing career
and her banal existence,
the wound was merely superficial.

Today's subject: Artificial intelligence.

The choices we have as humans,
all so confusing, all so extremely important.
I love human ego and irony.
A lot to study there.
Gain here, lose there.
Take this off, replace it with that,
wear something outside, put a pill inside,
adding to take away, taking away to add,
until you look like something in a magazine,
the one with the photoshopped images
of Bigfoot's face found on Mars.
Scribbling this all down in my
super-detailed cataloging process.
This will make such a predictable yet welcomed
Friday night update transmission to the mothership.
But the boys upstairs, they like a good laugh.
Earth: It was such a good idea on paper.
And now, such a fascinating tangled trainwreck
with its strange gravitational forcefield
and lazy, scamming nutballs,
the sellers and the buyers
of Socratic irony.


Clifford, let me know if your rudeness pays off for you.
I need this data, will file you and your customers
under *Really Artificial Intelligence.*
And when you do get busted for email scamming,
you should hope that your new cellmate,
Rodney "The Hot Rod" Pit Bull,
hasn't really gained that extra 3 inches
you promised him along the way.

TerraPass and RIP Mobile:
Saving the environment, one used cellphone (or PDA) at a time.

I love Borat so much that I Kazakhstan myself.

Please to be enjoying a new Borat movie for you,
one short version and one big, like Pepsi can.

Also please be enjoying a dating service.
Is very nice.

This won't be a shock to any of you, I know.

But on top of being a goob, I'm also slightly-nerd.
Not a smart nerd though. That'd be a geek.
I'm a nerdy goob, versus a gooby nerd.
Nerds are actually smart.
I don't know why anyone ever assumed I was smart.
Intelligent, maybe. But that's probably just a party trick.

Anyway, my mom's birthday was yesterday. So even though I knew
what she wanted for her birthday, there was no way
I could give her that. So I'm going to take the Amtrak down home,
distract her with red wine, a birthday cake,
and this binocular camera for her consolation present.
She has the most gorgeous backyard garden,
koi pond, gazebo, vegetable garden, you name it,
that she and my dad designed over a lifetime,
now home to some of the fattest wildlife I have ever seen.
Honestly.
I think she's a druid or a white witch.
The squirrels have giant, spreading, furry asses
and the hummingbirds growl.
We need pictures of those big squirrel cans
for those favored few googling into this blog,
researching raccoon feces photos, for the love of Malachai.
(You people, you fascinate and frighten me.
Seriously. Tell me why you do this.)

Anyway, really, I just want her to get a photo of the
albino cardinal* she has flying around her backyard,
for two years now. It looks like an angel.
I hope we get to it before the cat eats it.
It's certainly rare and juicy lookin'.
Anyway, nerdy goobs unite.
With red wine and cake.



*Nnnnnnerrrrdy nerd nerrrrrrd.
Oh, who cares!
You do, you know you do.

My father passed away a week ago today, Tuesday morning around 4:30a.m. My mother and I were able to be with him until the very end. I feel the need to say, I've never witnessed anything so noble and peaceful and strong in my entire life. He made a choice that was selfless, and to witness the shared bond my parents had at the end, I've never seen anything like it on this earth. "His word was his bond," my mother tells me, and it was never more true than at his passing.

He kissed my mother goodbye, took her hand, and then mine. I was able to tell him that I loved him, that he was the best father in the world, and that he was the best man I have ever known. Holding onto us both, he never looked away as he passed into a peaceful existence. With that look, I seriously pray that he handed over some of that courage, because I'll need that courage for the rest of my life. Before I left his room, I hugged him and said, "thank you."

To me, when one world collapses, another begins, rebuilding from loss. Firsthand, I can tell you this, that true love and a place of peace exists; I saw it with my own eyes. All I can think of now is how my dad lived by example. Most of the lessons he taught me, I picked up just by observation: Shoot for what's real; have true character; hold your friends as close as family; and always keep the air pressure checked in your tires.

(Oh yeah, and check your oil before you leave,
and call me when you get there.)

So, I'm sending this last one up to you, Daddy. Even though you didn't call me when you got there, I'll overlook it this time. I know you had plenty of friends to catch up with. But thank you for everything you did for me, and for mama, and for everyone you touched in your life. You'll never know how much it means to us all. I meant every word I said to you, and I will keep my word just like you always did.

So keep your headlights on, I love you, Daddy, and Airborne
~ Bethany