Oily Water

I'm guilty. Just like you. I drive a car. I love my car, some would say to the point of anthropomorphic obsession. MINI runs on gasoline. Her engine is lubricated by motor oil. So what's happening in the Gulf of Mexico is not my fault specifically, but it has come about because the world is full of people like me who rely on fossil fuels to keep things going in daily life. It's not just cars. Homes are heated with oil. Plastics are a petroleum product. The soda bottle on my desk next to me and the action figures on my shelf are all part of the fossil fuel economy. The one that results in giant oil corporations greedily drilling deeper and deeper for the Texas tea that keeps us running and fills their pockets.

A couple of weeks ago on Doctor Who, the two part episode which began with "The Hungry Earth" told of scientists drilling deep into the Earth in Wales. I don't remember how deep it was, 21 km or some really long distance. And it turned out that down at the Earth's core was another civilization. A race of lizard-like humanoids who thought the drill coming down into their oxygen pockets constituted an act of war.

President Obama used war as an analogy to describe the devastation caused by this spill; which after two months is still spewing oil into the water of the Gulf. It's killing animals and putting everyone in the fishing industry out of work. It's putting the lives of residents in jeopardy due to toxic beaches. Not to mention the loss of income from reduced tourism in the Gulf states. Unlike Hurricane Katrina, this disaster is entirely of man's making.

And still, on a 100 degree day in Las Vegas, I was out doing my errands, with the air conditioning cranked up in my car, despite the cost of lower fuel economy. I'm going to be using more oil this summer. Yes, I am guilty. And what should I do? The answer is not simple. Everything has a ripple effect. Change is difficult. It's uncomfortable. But it starts with one conscious act of trying to make things better. I hope I'm up for the challenge.

The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite

Wednesday was a long day at work, for more reasons than one. First we had a little brown bat visit our building. He was sleeping on the wall next to the outside stairwell. I went out and took a look at him. He was furry and cute and wasn't bothering anyone. The Site biologists came to check him out and said he'd be fine if we let him alone.

Then at the training building, they found this not-so-little guy. The solid waste people came to take him away. They say this sidewinder is just a sample of the bumper crop of snakes this summer. Hopefully, any other specimens I see will just be in pictures like this one.

Sleeping Pills

My doctor gave me a new prescription this week to help me sleep. I've tried many different medications. Some meant to help with sleep, some meant to help with other things but that also cause drowsiness. The latest is Mirtazapine. Before that it was Temazepam, and before that Diphenhydramine. Seroquel worked great as far as helping me get to sleep, but waking up was a bit of a problem. This newest one seems kinda like that. But all the good ones are. Otherwise, they don't help you get to sleep any faster than if you tried on your own.

I have to try taking this one much earlier in the evening. But then, I'll drop off before I've had a chance to do anything. Last night and the night before I ended up taking it and then getting sleepy before I was ready. I'm afraid that if I take it too soon, I'll fall asleep on the bus home and miss my stop.

Friday, my first day after taking it, was pretty much shot. I could barely get myself up and to the doctor for my appointment. And even then it was a bit sketchy. She could tell I was "relaxed" to say the least. On the way home I was going to stop and see my friend Ralph as I often do on the way home from the doctor, but I was just so sleepy, I probably shouldn't even have been driving. I got home and actually went back to bed and set the alarm to wake me up at 4:00 for the Mets game.

"It's just time, they kill," as Brett Anderson sings. The rest of the weekend was just me trying to get as much as I could done in between being too sleepy to get up, or stay up. Hoping not to let them kill too much time. And here I am, Sunday night; I can already feel them working on me now. Will I even make it through this week's episode of Doctor Who?

Raining in Baltimore

The weather was hot and humid, like every East Coast summer. But the Mets had a good weekend in Baltimore, hitting the baseball and pitching it too. Sweeping the Orioles to win their first series on the road this year had to feel good. It was certainly good for me to watch. It seems that however the Mets go, so goes my weekend. So it's been a good couple of weekends with this sweep and the one last week against Florida. Let's hope it continues with the series against the Yankees next weekend.

Baseball is summer, and no matter what else I may be doing, it occupies my mind. Whether my Mets are good or awful, they are mine. And my family's. We are a Mets household. It can be hard to catch the games, living in the West Coast time zone. The time change and the fact that not many of the games are broadcast locally. But fortunately an MLB.TV subscription, my iMac and my new flat screen make it almost like we were back home watching. Almost.

Other noteworthy sporting events this weekend? Well there's this little tournament going on in South Africa known as the World Cup. It's football (or soccer for us Americans) and it's the biggest sporting event in the World. You wouldn't know it most places you go around here, but we do have a team in the tournament. And playing the highly favored England team, we came out with a tie. I have to say, it was pretty exciting for a game that no one won. My many English friends were not too enthused that the U.S. tied the game on kind of a cheap goal. But the truth is, the goalie made a mistake and got beat. There was no poor officiating. And England didn't score again, thanks to the U.S. goalkeeper Tim Howard. He took some hits and kept playing hurt. He was the hero of the game. After the quick first goal by England in the first 5 minutes, Howard held them off. And U.S. strikers had a few good shots on the England goal, a win would have been amazing, but in this case a tie looked like a victory. Who knew?

It struck me today as the Mets scored 5 off of Kevin Millwood in the first inning, that it was a tough day at work for him. Even though it's a game, it's a job, and the players work hard. Just like the rest of us. They get paid significantly more, millions more, and live a life quite unlike ours, but at least we all have that little thing in common. The relativity of what a bad day of work is for one person and another can reveal great distances. All we can do is work as hard as we can at whatever we do, and leave it all on the field.

Bedside Story

So much is coming at us all the time, sights and sounds and swirly things. Most of it floats on by. Very little sticks. But every once in a while I'm struck with the power of a great story. And sometimes it comes from the oddest places.

I was surfing around the web doing quizzes on the In Plain Sight page. And I clicked over to the message boards about the show. My interest was piqued by a reference to a site called fanfiction.net, a repository of stories written about, inspired by and including characters and situations from pretty much any movie, book or TV show (or pretty much anything else that you can be a fan of).

I had been talking to my doctor about the stories I used to write when I was a teenager. Usually some silly fantasy about me and a player from the New York Mets. Me all grown up and having become all I wanted to be. Whether it be famous, or successful, or just possessing talents I never could. And finding the perfect love. You know, standard young girl's fantasy stuff. And the intervening years brought none of those things. So they were left behind, but not forgotten.

Occasionally I'd start a new one in my head. A scene here and there. An amusing tidbit to pass the time, a bit of comfort to take to bed. And yes, it's a story of me, being someone better than I am. Having more friends, being desired by the perfect guy. Right now, it's Marshall Mann, the U.S. Marshal, WITSEC Inspector on In Plain Sight. Played by Frederick Weller, Marshall is so smart, so funny, so sensitive, and adorably dorky. And he'd never want me. But in my head, anything can happen. I'm making it up.

So why don't you write these stories down? she asked. But that's fan fic, I told her. It's the silly imaginings of a fangirl. It's dressing up as a Jedi. Putting on shoes that are way too big, or a dress that's way too small. Thing is, fan fic can be better than that. A skilled writer can take established characters and story arcs, and take them somewhere else. And it could be seamless. I read such an IPS fan fic this weekend. I spend much of my Friday and Saturday night, enthralled, sure it was the same Mary and Marshall; and wanting to see what would happen to them, what they would do. It has a place because we fans do want more of Mary and Marshall. We imagine their world, bigger than what's on our screens. We can hear their voices. Some of us better than others. And there are those out there brave enough to share. I'm not up for that yet. My stories aren't so well developed. They are just bits and pieces. But now I've seen what can be done. And felt how it can feel. And I want more of that.

As I'm writing this I'm watching Tim Burton's version of Alice in Wonderland w/ Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter. It's all colorful and cool looking as usual with Burton films. But it just doesn't grab me. As classic a story as it is, I just find it kind of "eh." No wonder in Wonderland for me. Odd that.

Then sometimes it comes from just where you expect. Doctor Who is always full of wonder. Last night's episode continued that. It was about dreams, and more dreams, which one is real. Who needs reality? If I could be in the Tardis with the Doctor I certainly wouldn't.

Then again, sometimes reality pokes its little head back in. I just happened to run into Skip and Jazz on MySpace today. I talk to Jazz pretty often. But Skip has been MIA. And he had always been my go-to guy. He'd have a story for me; not fantastical, just big and clever. And completely him. And it was okay for me to be me. I always belonged. I definitely miss having that place to go to.

But it seems there should be a mix. Real and dream. Fantasy and life. Traveling in the Tardis and getting lost in the swirlyness of the here and now. In sleep and in waking.

But right now it's time for bed. What story will I take with me?