I still have no car. I am debt-free and have some money ($1300) but no way to get out to look at cars. Harley’s car is at the body shop and he’s at the Yocums’ again. As soon as the girl who hit his car gets in contact with her insurance company, I can get a rental and transport Harley — if he will go. He seems to have given up on school. I want to get back in bed and never get up.
I got my “lump sum” — unexpectedly — from Social Security. I haven’t even gotten an award letter yet, other than the letter with the ruling. the relief is indescribable. It was thousands less than I had expected, due to the judge’s assignment of my date of disability to correspond with a report from my pulmonologist; but it was enough to pay off all my overdue utilities and both my credit cards. I even have about a thousand left to buy a cheap car.
This is the 99th post!
I have too many weblogs. I have one for Walking Among the Dead, one for what might be called “erotica,” and this one for everything else. Those of you who visit this one know it’s a combination of actual journaling, snippets of fan fic, and photos I like. It contains more than a few rants. I want to divide it into different pages so people who actually like me and are interested in my ruminations don’t have to pick through the dreck to find the chrysolite. And make no mistake, there’s chrysolite here. This is Bentley. Bentley has chrysolite in the pocket of her jeans.
I also want to start using this instead of posting long, long statuses on Facebook. That is not what I joined Facebook for. I joined Facebook to keep in touch with a lot of people at once, whom I wouldn’t otherwise be constantly emailing or calling. That’s what Facebook is good for.
So here’s the plan: I will post Facebook stati such as “Leg pain!” and “Dan is coming tonight!” and “No snow yet.” I will also post all my awesome links there, and if I’ve blogged something I like I’ll mention it. And I will use Bentley’s Blog to complain, celebrate, philosophize, ponder, share poetry (also in Notes, over there), and in general be the Bentley that used to inhabit the MSN Groups.
I’m sad and sorry there’s so little accomodation for discussion here, but I need a place to expand my soul. And remember, all Feedback and Comments welcome — as long as they don’t hurt my feelings.
Mournier: I didn’t love as well as I should have.
Vlad: Of course you didn’t. You’re an imperfect human.
Hassan: We’re made in God’s image. Why would we be given this gift if perfect love were unattainable?
Vlad: Perfect love! Listen to you both. I withdraw from this discussion.
This post is under construction. These words are just C&P from Facebook, and I’m going to make them Simpler, Smoother, and Better.
I recommend this highly. I advise you don’t read the Reader Reviews or anything that might influence what you bring into it; it’s a short read, it can be bought cheap, and it consists of eight chapters that each comprise a separate beginning-to-end story.
Bentley J. Bentley J. But here’s my observation: I am practically reeling at how accurately thhis author sees into the artist mind. She must have made visual art herself. I am an artist and writer both, and I thrilled at how, in simple language, she described the artist and would-be artist seeing their surroundings as color and light and composition, seeing strange beauty in everyday objects not only in themselves but as metaphors. If you’ve never stared at an eye, catching light on its glossy surface in whatever amount allowed by its thick or sparse canopy of lashes, it you’ve never wished the person would look more toward the light so you could decide which pencils you would use, then you have never known what some people do all day every day — or you’ve never known until now. This book will tell you, and not in dry polysyllabic prose but in the fleeting visions of a person going about every day life in the middle of an engaging story full of diverse characters.
First of all, thank you for addressing this issue. It took me five months to figure out who to address, and at least two emails to the wrong persons were supposedly forwarded to you, but not answered. Please note the highlighted items below.
What you probably did not notice were the 2 security agents processing the audience members as you entered the building. One of the agents is stationed near the metal detector and adjacent to the double doors.During the time the audience is in the building the locks to the doors are open.
As you noted, there are 2 doors equipped with push bars in the event of an emergency as required by building code, you probably did not notice additional emergency exit doors in the studio that have emergency exit signs that guide you to them.
Are there push bars on those doors? There weren’t in June. Have you seen the push bars yourself, or are you taking the word of the staff at Studio 54? This is all I care about here, push bars. I appreciate what you’ve given me about the security, and I appreciate your information about the sprinklers and the fire code (and sorry it took that subject line to get any attention), but what I want to be assured of is subsequent installation of push bars. If you tell me, “Yes, I or my agent have seen the push bars on those doors, and we have instructed the security staff not to lock that door during audience processing/rehearsal” then I will consider this a closed issue.
I just complained to NYC, Complaint #2047, being given to Engine Co. 40. When I visited the TCR studios last week (long story — late, waited for STC, didn’t see him) I went to mingle with the guests leaving, and damned if there were still no push pars. And the holding room looked even smaller than I remembered it.
So now it’s in the FDNY’s hands.
From fifteen months ago.
by Bentley J. on Friday, 13 August 2010 at 22:15
Your editorial Tolerance makes me ashamed of you. Imam Rauf, whom you refer to as “the cleric behind the Cordoba house,” doesn’t need your permission or approval to build a mosque anywhere he wants to. This is America, the land of the free. All of us, you included, can practice our religions wherever and whenever we want to and in view of anybody’s “shrine.” Quakers, Muslims, Baptists, Baha’is. Who are you to ask another American to step back from that protection, even voluntarily? You mention (in a digression) the First Amendment – maybe you should read it again.
9/11 was no more a “significant Islamic conquest” than Oklahoma City was a significant Christian conquest. I am sick of the press insinuating over and over that the World Trade Center survivors are entitled to their hate because they are grieving. Grief and pain do not entitle you to hatred. Ask any Jew; ask the Amish in Nickel Mines. For God’s sake, read history! We know this!
So you suggest that the mosque be moved “further away from the hallowed site.” No pretence of believing that the mosque too is holy! Do you know what would happen if the Imam did as you request? It would be another tiny step back from real freedom for all of us; the ink would start to fade on the words “an establishment of religion.” Move a mosque? Why not? Next someone will ask Jehovah’s Witnesses not to knock on doors during Yom Kippur, and somebody will think it’s a reasonable request. Then those pesky Catholics will be asked to wash that smut off their faces or else don’t come to work on Ash Wednesday. It will start with polite requests and end up in laws, and what you propose today in well-modulated 12-point voice will be the battle cry of the next hate war.
As soon as I’m up to it I’ll post a list of things I’ve decided to change in my life. You can probably just consult any of my previous lists if you have access to them.
GOOD TO THE HANDICAPPED! <insert five stars>
Do it. Go see Colbert in person. He is magical. But you know that; this review is for the disabled who might wonder if it’s worth the discomfort and inconvenience. The answer is: It was for me. The Audience and Security Dept’s bent over backward to accomodate me.
I had corresponded with the Audience guy in advance, and was asked to describe what my limitations were and what I’d need
When I arrived (just before they started taking people in) the sign-in person was expecting me. I didn’t have to wait in the Awful Fenced Holding Pen (where you are no longer,sadly, allowed to write on the wall) — I perched on the outside stairs until they took in the few VIPs, then my husband and I were admitted first, and a chair was waiting for me in the Awful Crowded Holding Room (God, it must have been awful to STAND for over an hour).
The bad: When I had to use the rest room during the wait, the room was so crowded I was squeezing between people and tapping on shoulders. If you (like me) carry a heavy oxygen tank, and walk with pain, it can be challenging.
When they started calling ticket numbers to let people into the studio, they had us wait until last, when we were seated at the end of the first row. But when you see the studio you realize there are no “bad seats.” The fun part of my seat was that I was closest to the interview table — if I had spoken to the guest, I wouldn’t have had to shout. And Stephen was, well, RIGHT THERE.
The fifth star is for the staff’s consideration. I have to say — the wait and the crowded conditions were very, very off-putting.