Since E2 is on GMT, I can say with certainty that today is officially set day for my modular house. The move has been 5 years in the making, between starting to subdivide the farm and actually putting a house on it. The modules came Saturday and are waiting by the foundation for the big crane to set them in place. My builder tells me that if everything goes well, the modules will be set, the roof will be shingled, and the porch installed by the end of the day. Our biggest worry has been the weather, which for the most part has been atrocious all month, but tomorrow promises partly cloudy skies, with highs around 50. As good as can be asked for this time of year.

Of course, this does not mean that the house is done, there is several weeks of work left, including the basement and attic floor and stairs, HVAC, electrical, and plumbing to connect and tie in. The builder and his tradespeople will do the majority of the work, but I plan to do a ceramic tile floor in the bathroom myself. Not a major job, nor one that needs a licensed plumber or electrician, but it is something that I am doing to make the house mine. I get this feeling about my automobiles and the like, they aren't really mine until I get my hands dirty adding a stereo, or doing more than trivial repairs myself.

I'll be getting up early, my builder says that he will be there at 5:30 AM to wait for the crane and set crew.

I wrote this a long time ago when my PC was out of action for my blog. My blog was gone by the time I got a chance to post it, so I thought I may as well post it here. Enjoy.

(I am sitting in bed right now, it's 11:37PM on Friday 14th November, so ignore whatever the post title says).

Some will laugh
Some will just sit and cry
But you just sit down there
And wonder why


The above, from the song A Rush Of Blood To The Head by Coldplay, holds a great significance to me. Never before have the many opposing sides and arguments of war been summed up so succintly. The laughing generals, happy at obliterating part of a city, and the lives of the innocent civilians within. The crying citizens, who have had their lives wrecked by a war intended to liberate them. They have lost their homes, their families, all they had dear. It ends here. They are powerless. They can do nothing but mourn what is lost. While the man robbed of his life weeps, others trumpet war.

And in the middle are the people who wonder "why", pondering-why have we not learnt the truth, from World War One, from World War II, from Vietnam, from the first Gulf War-peace should be kept. Why have the international community sat back and barely grumbled while America's mutated realpolitik ravaged the earth? Why, particularly, must we brand anti-war protestors "unpatriotic" and "supporters of terrorism"? Why did we allow this illegal, unjust war, the only result of which has been a loss of human life and massive environmental devastation, presided over by a man who would send Stanley Kubrick screaming for an IP lawyer, go ahead unchecked and unopposed by the body whose job it is to stop such things from occurring? It should not be! Yet it is!

I believe this planet is doomed due to our own stupidity, ignorance and greed. If we have learnt anything from two world wars, two atomic bombs and three US-led "crusades", it is that war is only good if you can call it just without having to take things at face value. World War 2 was just-Hitler overstepped the mark, and we went in and beat the seven bells out of him, ending years of Nazi rule and thus the opression of certain sects of society. There could have been no ulterior motives.

In Gulf War 2, however, this war is just only if you believe that George W Bush is telling the truth. If you take into account the large number of ulterior motives that there could be in invading Iraq (first and foremost, oil), cracks start to appear in the idea of this war being just. It would take some breathtaking naivity to assume that anybody, least of all Dubya, is telling the whole truth the whole of the time.

The Bush administration's attitude to war, especially nuclear war, frankly scares me. Bush seems to treat his soldiers as disposable income, to use as he wishes. (This is, of course, ignoring the statistics-only 0.3% of all the soldiers send to the Gulf by US allies have been killed in battle. The Iraqi death toll is significantly higher). His (George W Bush's) new bunker buster nukes are not only ridiculous, but also incredibly dangerous and frightening-the first person to authorise their use will be a foolish man indeed, and I do not believe that President Bush fully understands the ramifications of these new weapons, if at all. We have averted nuclear war for around 60 years now, during an arms race, the Cuban Missile Crisis and massive stockpiling-mainly through a combination of diplomacy, and the belief that nukes are deterrents as opposed to usable weapons. Once nuclear weapons are made usable, as is the plan with bunker busters, the consequences for world security are unimaginable. As a conscientious objector, the prospect of this terrifies me and I am hoping that a voice of sanity within the US administration manages to derail the bunker buster project before it even leaves the station, so to speak. Meanwhile, the world waits with baited breath for the next move of this 21st century Douglas Haig, President Bush.

...

Wow, that's a long blog :-) It's 12:30AM now...
I Piss On Your Leg

It is late, the bar is crowded and I have been sitting here far too long. I am just enjoying another swig of my favorite beer as I feel a tingling that starts at the stomach and works it's way down to my groin. The tingling turns into a pressure and the pressure becomes an immediate need to relieve myself. I feel like a hose that has the end plugged tightly by a thumb of good proportion. The pressure is building and without proper release someone is going to get very wet.

Seeing as I must do something about this minor inconvenience I rise from my crusty bar stool and hurriedly make my way into the horde of drunkards. The going is slow. There is an indeterminate amount of bodies between my destination, the men's room, and me. I'm afraid I may not make it. I keep stepping on my fellow bar patrons' feet and collect quite a feel angry growls and glares. I apologize but some look as though they still wish to pound me silly for my grievous offenses.

Slowly I make my way to the other end of the room. My goal is now within reach. I am brimming with anticipation of relief, as my eyes never leave the glorious blue sign. It reads in white letters: Men's Room. My hand slaps the worn brass hand panel set in the black wood of the door and pushes it open. I'm assaulted with the salty stale smell of urine as I enter the restroom. Almost home, I think to myself. Ah, relief is almost at hand. I step up to one of the urinals, minding not to get too close to the restroom’s other patrons, as I do not wish to make them uncomfortable. I look to the heavens as I pull down my zipper. My entire body is tingling now, and the need for release is overpowering.

Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. It seems that I have had a little bit too much to drink. When pulling up to the urinal it looks as though I pulled up sideways and I’ve already begun to relieve myself on the patron next to me. He is a not a slight man. His long hair and large full beard that reaches nearly half way down his hulking girth gives him the look of a ferocious bear. He has arms that are as big around as my legs. His right pant leg is soaked with my piss. I can only stand there staring as my mouth betrays me and begins to curl slowly into a smile. To my horror I am laughing uncontrollably still pissing away on his leg. I'm afraid this is the end of me.

Today is a very exciting day in that I get to announce that I received a call PERSONALLY from the director of admissions at Grove City College (www.gcc.edu). He called to inform me that I was cordially accepted to attend the spring semester at Grove City, and that classes start the week of the 19th. I'm very excited. My plans are to get my undergrad. In English and a minor in Chemistry, and go on to get a master's in Biology/Education so that I can teach high school biology. I have been taking classes at the local community college (www.tri-c.edu), and I'm not entirely sure how the classes will transfer since I just found out that I am accepted today, but I look forward to mounts of paperwork and scheduling. I also look forward to new classes, new people, and new surroundings. This year seems to hold a lot in store for me, it's funny how a 15 minute phone call can change your life (unfortunately not always for the good); luckily, in my case it was.

I want to take a moment to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas, and an especially blessed New Year, I know mine will be; and I thank all of you who helped me get here!


Love and Regards,

Sarah

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