It's almost the end of November and I still don't know what's going to happen next. Where will I live, where will I work, when will something happen? Still, it's almost time for a day off - which will be much needed - and then I guess we'll see.

It's times like these that I get crazy ideas of getting rid of everything and wandering off into the sunset. So ill-formed a plan - yet who can plan when nothing ever gets settled?

I listened tonight to one of my favorite Joni Mitchell albums. This was the music that formed the backdrop of my life in college. Lots of tragic romance. And women who are too restless to form permanent bonds. Do we seek out music that fits us - or do we let the music sculpt us subtly into reflections of the characters imagined in the songs.

One of the reasons I love Joni is that I can sing along with her. Her range fits mine perfectly - which is not to say that I sound even remotely like her - just that I can carry her tunes.

Funny how I can still sing along after all these years - the memory is such a funny thing.

A short time ago I postulated that the defining characteristic of human beings is their desire to create beauty - to become somehow godlike. The Nova program, Last Human Standing, part of the Becoming Human series, had another characteristic.

Homo sapiens is set apart from all other animals by its intense exploitation of the environment. Neanderthals hunted big game and ate meat - almost exclusively. They didn't eat roots and berries, they didn't eat fish, they didn't eat eggs. For hundreds of thousands of years they survived and lived in the same manner - hunting big game and eating meat. But homo sapiens spread out over its environment and found a use for everything. They ate anything and everything, they created new sophisticated tools to facilitate their exploitation of the environment. They ate shellfish and used the shells to make jewelry. Homo sapiens were also fertile breeders and as their population increased they swarmed out of Africa and over the earth. And as they went large mammals and other branches of humans died out.

The triumph of homo sapiens over its environment is a truly amazing story. I think I like my original idea better though. Our ability to exploit our environment may bring us to the brink of extinction. Our desire for beauty and creation may enable us to prevent that outcome.

Two interesting developments:

1. An advisory panel of physicians issued recommendations about breast and cervical cancer screenings. The timing of the report was poor, falling so squarely into the health care "overhaul" debate going on. For a lot of people, it tilts toward the "rationing" of health care they fear so much. Most people don't realize that we already have rationing. However, if people followed the new recommendations there would be many, many fewer mammograms and pap tests every year. I don't think big medicine will allow this to happen.


2. I received communications from two of my credit card companies. Cap One wanted me to "opt-in" to overlimit transactions being allowed and charged a fee for. Since I was only allowed 3 minutes to make a decision - and I am really skeptical of anything they're selling when I don't have time to think about it - I declined. But Am Ex is planning to eliminate charges for overlimit transactions, but make some really complicated changes to other things.

Personally I don't expect either health care overhaul or credit card regulations to improve my life in any way. I'm certain that in the trade off between the best interests of "the people" and the profits of big business that cost savings and best practices in health care or taming the credit monster, which could improve many people's lives, will be judged "too expensive".

When I got home, the first thing I discovered was that my phone appeared to be broken. I took it apart and put it back together - and apparently I fixed the problem. Then I discovered that the kitchen faucet had sprung a major leak. Fortunately Home Depot is having a sale on faucets. Still, replacing a faucet wasn't in my plan for this week.

Since these things always come in threes, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Hope it's something simple.

I don't know why I've been so focused on death in the past several months. On Stargate Universe there was a marvelous piece where a young man talked about the first time he realized that he would die someday.

An older character mentioned that everyone has that moment, the important thing is how you respond to it. I think that everyone realizes at some point that they will die someday. But for most of us that someday is a vague, distint, unimagined future. I think that as long as our parents are alive, we can feel free from death. They serve as our buffer against the end. It's so innate, the sense that parents pass before their children, that we are always stunned when a child goes before the parent. But once our parents are gone, then we move into the queue. We're next.

It's not that I think I'm going to die tomorrow, or anytime very soon - it's just that I feel in a sense that it's something I should become familiar with and plan for.

Tonight I drove back to Ohio to spend the upcoming holiday week here. The drive was miserable, as traffic was terrible, the first half of the journey was through a downpour and/or fog, and I was constantly worrying that another of my tires would blow.

Still I made it home, to find that my sick kitty is improving. Apparently putting food upstairs has helped a lot, as he's gained a little weight and has started moving around a bit more.

The hard part is that I've decided to move, so I've already disconnected from here as "home". It's become a bit of a burden: a place I have to deal with. My phone wasn't working, the faucet in the kitchen has sprung a huge leak, the sitter has neglected some of the houseplants, and the yard needs work. Just a huge list of things to do.

Fortunately, I should have some time with the holiday - but not as much as I'd like, as of course the big proposal at work is coming due soon and it will require a fair bit of overtime.

Ah well. C'est la vie.

Today was one of those hectic days (so hectic that I wrote this and forgot to post it) that don't give us much time to think about the things going on around us. Still, I watched SYTYCD tonight and was thrilled to see another fabulous Wade Robson routine: dancers as sculptures coming to life.

So many of the dancers talk about how dance is their life that it got me thinking about the artful life. Some people live for their art, and some - Martha Stewart comes to mind - live as if their life is a work of art. It's easy to get caught up in the day to day and lose the things that we are/were passionate about and lose ourselves.

I tried, walking around the office and to and from my hotel, to think about my posture and my stride and the "picture" I made walking. In college I used to imagine myself a panther slinking through the jungle. Just keeping that image in mind changes the way I walk and moves me from that fat, stiff old lady waddle I was developing. I liked the change.

I'm going to try more often to keep an image in my mind of the person I want to be, and maybe I can sculpt something better.

Friday the new movie 2012 debuted, and apparently it had a great weekend. This film is another in a long series of end of the world films. In the next few weeks we'll have The Road, which is another apocalyptic film. Normally, as memory serves, such films are summer entertainment, so it seems odd to have them coming out just before the holidays.

Still it fits with the general atmosphere in the world. My favorite astrologer devoted this week's newsletter to a discussion of the "visionaries and prophets" who expect "a sudden cascade of events that completely changes everything everywhere". The news is bleak. Our politicians seem to be incapable of doing anything useful to help this country and hell bent on continuing their silly, partisan games. Most of the media seems obsessed with trivialities like Sarah Palin's new book and Obama's bow to the Japanese Emperor.

Even David Brooks, the sober, thoughtful conservative columnist, wrote about the lack of optimism in this country.

It would be easy to follow along and allow the fear and the despair to engulf us. For me, I'm striving to be hopeful for the future. I'm making my plans and working to bring them to fruition. I hope that this, too, will pass. And soon.

I mentioned that R. and I went to brunch at this delightful restaurant in Southwest DC and that we were the only white people in the room. Interestingly, neither of us mentioned that fact while we were inside and eating. I didn't feel uncomfortable and as the food was excellent, the music on the loudspeaker was really enjoyable, and the service was prompt and pleasant, I really enjoyed myself.

R. and I did discuss it when we left, as we were certainly objects of curiosity to the other patrons of the restaurant. The most interesting thing was when a co-worker asked me about my weekend and I told her about the restaurant. She suggested that everyone else probably felt as uncomfortable as I did. I found that a surprising way to look at the situation. Was it remarkable? Yes. Was I uncomfortable? No. R. is gay and I am a woman, so we've both been discriminated against in our lives and can relate to the whole minority thing. Were the people in the restaurant uncomfortable with us being there? I don't think so. They seemed mildly curious, probably wondering how we had managed to find "their" place. But no one seemed to be inhibited.

I would certainly go back and I would take my friends. It was a good meal and a good value and a pleasant time in a lovely setting. And I think I would be welcomed back. I wish I could live to a time when race/color, gender/preference, age/religion don't separate us from our fellows.

Today was a beautiful day. Crisp, perfect temperature. I drove into DC with my good friend R. We drove down Constitution Avenue, past the mall, then up to Capitol Hill and drove past R's old house. The fall colors everywhere on the ride were just beautiful

Then we went down to the waterfront, parked the car and had Sunday brunch in a restaurant there. The food was fabulous and the fact that we were the only white people in the place was fun. After brunch we went to attend a couple of open houses. The first place was gorgeous, and R fell totally in love, though it was a little small for me. The second place had good bones, but was in terrible shape. The biggest problem was that both were co-ops, and the monthly co-op fees were in excess of $1000, which added to the potential mortgage was way more than either of us is interested in paying.

Still, it was a terrific day.

I started watching Saturday Night Live a little bit ago, and I realized how out of touch I am with much of existing culture. I don't know who any of the people are - which feels quite odd. Then they started a skit featuring Jimmy Stewart, Grace Kelly, and Alfred Hitchcock - and I thought - ah something for the old folks. But then it degenerated into a long, unfunny fart joke.

I don't get it. I guess I'm really getting old. And at the risk of sounding like my mother, if this is what passes for humor today, I'm not sorry I've lost touch.

Today is Friday the 13th. I didn't even realize it until about 2 hours ago. Normally a lucky day for me, but nothing either good or bad happened to me. Nothing particularly good or bad happened in the world. Just an ordinary day.

Still, my mood is off. I feel out of sorts and discouraged. Europe is coming out of the recession and the Euro is strong. Germany got through the recession without a huge stimulus and managed to keep most people employed. China is barreling along. But in this country we're obsessed with keeping gays from marrying and women from controlling their own bodies and enabling the rich and greedy to get richer and greedier.

Feels like twilight in America. Maybe it's time to dust off those plans to retire as an expat.

I'm a fan of reality tv - or at least some reality tv. I prefer the classics: Survivor, Amazing Race, and that summer cesspool Big Brother. I know that it's not "real" - just "unscripted", but the people on these shows do manage to reveal themselves in interesting ways and I find the display of human behavior and interaction fascinating.

There is a character (note I call him a character - not a person) on Survivor this season who I frankly disliked almost immediately and have hoped fervently would be voted off quickly. However, last night he won me over. This man, Russell, has managed to find two of the critical, game changing "immunity idols" without seeing a single clue to their location. He just applied logic and persistence.

I originally disliked him because he bragged about how smart he was and how stupid all the other people were - but last night he proved that he wasn't bragging - he really is that much smarter than the rest of them. His ego is definitely out of hand, and I don't think he's someone I would ever want as a friend, but he's definitely the best player in this version of the game - and I hope he wins.

This will be short, as I had a bad episode of vertigo earlier and I'm not much in the mood.

I read an article by Olivia Judson about happiness (and obesity) being contagious. What she said makes sense and was very interesting, but it got me to thinking.

Why do some things make us happy. And how do we know what choices will improve our lives. I'm planning my next move - and trying to figure out what I want in a new home. I want to go more urban, but based on my experiences over the past ten+ years, it's clear that I need some garden space. Just a balcony or deck won't do I don't think. Is a fireplace vital? I got along without one in Paris - and I barely use the one I have now - so maybe it's not that important.

I'm certain I could survive with less stuff - but what to keep and what to discard.

Choices, choices, choices. One thing is certain: choosing doesn't make me happy. ;)

John Allen Muhammad was executed tonight in Virginia for the murder of Dean Myers. Myers was one of the ten people killed in the greater Washington DC area. Three people survived being shot by Muhammad and another ten victims in other areas were linked to him. Muhammad's partner, Lee Boyd Malvo, stated that the pair had killed 17 people.

Muhammad wasn't tried in the other cases because he had already been sentenced to death in Virginia and to six consecutive life sentences in Maryland and the prosecutors in other jurisdictions wisely decided to save taxpayers some money.

It's queerly synchronous to have Muhammad's execution on the same day as the memorial service for the thirteen individuals killed at Fort Hood last Thursday. Both killers were Muslim and both expressed Jihadi sentiments. This is not intended as a speculation on their true motives. These men are the only people that will ever know why they picked up guns and killed random strangers. Perhaps even they didn't completely understand their anger and hatred. Their faith and their anger is just another odd similarity.

I don't support the death penalty. I argued passionately that Malvo, who was left in Muhammad's care at the age of fourteen when his mother emigrated to the US, should not be executed, as in my opinion he was as much a victim as the others. Had I been on Muhammad's jury, I would not have voted for the death penalty. However I'm not sorry about Muhammad's death.

I remember that time vividly. The killings started just a little over a year after 9/11. Of course the most memorable part of 9/11 happened in New York City. But lest we forget, the Pentagon was also attacked, and there was a plan to crash a plane into the Capitol, and the horror for those of us living in the greater DC area was as great as for those in New York, though our losses were smaller. We were still recovering, still skittish, and the random sniper attacks were terrifying. Several of the attacks took place near Michaels stores, which is where my daughter worked at the time, and I was very, very worried for her. So no, I'm not sorry.

What I am sorry about is that we live in a country where guns are so readily available. I am sorry that people can't rise beyond their fear of the "other". I'm sorry that so many people are so incapable of expressing themselves that they turn to random violence. And I'm sorry that death is so often cruel and meaningless and random.

Tonight I offer my sympathy to all those who are grieving for loved ones taken so suddenly.

The time has come, as the saying goes, and I've concluded that a move is definitely in my future. I berate myself for being so stupid as to think the job I had when I moved to Ohio would last forever - or as long as I wanted it. But my dear bro pointed out that it wasn't my fault - it was the economy. A lot of people have had to alter their plans in the past almost two years.

So, my little house and my dream of never moving was nice while it lasted, but time to cut my losses and start making plans to find a new place to live - in an area where I can stay gainfully employed.

I do love my little house and my beautiful garden though. I hope I can find something I'll like as well here.

Thinking about my mother's death and dealing with all her stuff reminded me of something I was thinking about the other day. I heard an ad on the TV about the average cost of a funeral (ad was for life insurance I think), and my first thought was that we (my brother and I) spent considerably more on our mother's interment. We went as cheap as possible on everything - which was a way of honoring the spirit of our mother, who was very, very, very tight with her money. We bought the cheapest available coffin and rejected extras right and left. We kept laughing at the attempts of the counselor to sell us upgrades.

So how did we end up exceeding the "average" cost? Our mother did NOT want to be cremated and she did NOT want to be buried in the ground. She wanted to be put into a crypt - which is quite an expensive option. So we spent for the crypt, went bare bones on everything else, and had a nice memorial service for her. I know that there was nothing forcing us to make arrangements in accordance with her expressed desires, but our choice was the right one.

Which leads me to my second thought. When my grandmother (my mother's mother) died, my mother called the Neptune Society and arranged for them to pick up her body, cremate it, and take us on a cruise in San Francisco bay to scatter the ashes. The Neptune Society option was the absolutely cheapest way to dispose of a loved one, which I am certain is why my mother choose it. But I wonder what my grandmother's wishes were. My mother said she wanted to be cremated, but I don't know whether that was true or not. My mother had a lot of unresolved anger at her mother, which could certainly have caused her to unconsciously forget her mother's true wishes.

And the fact that I could entertain such a thought reveals the unresolved anger I have at my mother. I wish I didn't find her motives suspect. Still, my grandmother was not deeply religious, nor was she particularly sentimental, so I don't imagine she minds how her remains were handled. And she did love San Francisco and the Golden Gate.

I've been living in a hotel room for almost five months now, going "home" on weekends. At first I went home every weekend, then every other weekend, and now only every third. It's not that I don't want to be home - but the drive (and all the flat tires) has taken it's toll. So I go to work and sit in my office and then I come back to the hotel and sit in my room, a space that's maybe 12 by 30. It reminds me very much of the room I spent a month in when I was in India. In India, I felt very confined and would go up and prowl around on the roof terrace whenever it wasn't raining. Now it doesn't bother me.

It makes me wonder about the houses in this country that get bigger and bigger. Who really needs all that space? In this room I have a bed, a desk, a dining table, a kitchen, a bathroom, a nice reading chair, and a tv. There' a lovely tree outside my window, and I don't have to clean. My house in Ohio has over 1800 square feet (roughly 6 times the space I have here), which includes several rooms I rarely use. In times when I've been depressed, I have gone days without leaving my bedroom (which is half the size of this hotel room).

When I returned from India I was inspired by the apparent joyfulness of the people there who had so little, that I wanted to divest myself of a lot of my stuff. But now, almost twenty years later, I have more stuff than ever - and the requisite space to keep it all. It's hard to look at our possessions and objectively say, I don't really need that, I'll get rid of it. I am frequently prevented from shedding some of my stuff by panic that I will certainly need it tomorrow if I get rid of it today (which has actually happened).

The worst thing about stuff is that when you die, someone has to deal with it. After my brother and sister and I went through our mothers things and selected the items we wanted to keep, we send truckloads of stuff to the dump. I think about my mother's treasured possessions lying in the landfill. They meant something to her, but nothing to us, and so out they went. Some things I kept because it seemed cruel to throw them out, like her high school yearbooks, and the baby book for the sister that died before I was born. My rationale is totally non-rational, but we all have to live inside our skins - and this is one of the things I have to do to feel right.

I don't want my daughter to have to deal with my stuff, So, I have the idea that I may divest myself of my worldly goods before I die: let my daughter pick what she wants and just send the rest to the Goodwill - or the dump. I could then pack the few things I really need or love into my car and become the gypsy I've always felt inside.

First there was the egregious invitation from the Catholic Church for Episcopalians who are upset by the ordination of women and gays to "come back" to Catholicism. Then there was the defeat of gay marriage in Maine on whatever quasi-faith based grounds the far right cooked up, and then, following the horrific shooting at Fort Hood, a celebration by a group of radical Islamists in New York.

I don't believe there is a God - in the sense that most religions use. Their God is always a petty, vindictive, blood thirsty bastard. We are NOT made in God's image - we make God in our image. And religion will destroy this world.

Back in June I posted about my all nighter that was caused by a blown tire on the highway. I said that one flat in ten years wasn't bad, and I could live with it.

Talk about tempting fate. On October 15 I was driving from Virginia to Ohio. It was a stormy night, a little windy, and the roads were slick. I thought at first that my car was getting blown around, but then there was the sudden pop, and my car went everywhere. I got it under control and drove off the highway and into a gas station. I was about twenty miles outside of Cambridge and about 180 miles from home. Once again I called AAA, and after a while the tow driver arrived and changed my tire. He advised me to wait in Cambridge until the morning, but I pushed on to home. There's a tire store on the corner of my street, and I got a replacement tire there when I got a flat after the huge windstorm when all the streets were full of fallen trees and junk. So I got home, got a little sleep, got a new tire, and did my job as if nothing had happened.

And then yesterday - just shy of three weeks after the blow out near Cambridge, I was heading back to Virginia. I'd been on the road just 30 minutes, when I felt that familiar squishiness in the steering. S**t! Then the pop, but I had already slowed down, so no control problems. I got off the road, called AAA, and amazingly the driver arrived in about five minutes. I was back home just an hour and fifteen minutes after I left. And today I got up and took my car down to the tire store and got a new tire.

So three flats in less than five months on my commute from Ohio to Virginia and back. And I drove across the entire country and back four times without a flat tire. Something is wrong here. I clearly haven't been propitiating the right gods. But I'm getting damn good at handling blow outs at high speed.