Angel of Sorrow

As the time draws closer for me to leave, I am in turmoil. On the outside I have a ‘stiff upper lip’, on the inside I am devastated.

What will I take with me, what will I leave behind?

I have a great idea! Can I leave myself behind? I am thinking about this quite seriously.

Meanwhile, I think I have found Diesel a good home. The people 2 doors up had two Saints that died of old age, and are buried in their back yard. I approached them a couple of days ago, and they have been taking Diesel for ‘visits’, to see if he gets on well with their dog. So far, so good.

The cat is taken care of. My next door neighbour has offered to adopt her, which is great. I didn’t even have to ask, she approached me.

I have bought furniture for the new place, bed, dining, TV, recliners, fridge. It cost a small fortune, but what the heck, I have a credit card. I did however, look for bargains, and I found them. There is a lot on offer at the moment, as traders are feeling the credit squeeze.

Meanwhile, my co worker has decided she is going to take a long weekend, included in that are my 2 days off, which I have to cover. How am I supposed to move and work at the same time?

I have discovered lots of little things. EG: She will work a public holiday, to get a day in lieu. Monday is her allocated day off, which is a public holiday, so therefore, she is working. I did a bit of spying on our competitors, on my day off. She came along as well, and we met at the site. She said she had to go early, as she had an appointment, but what didn’t she say? That it was my client. So, SHE got $1000 commission, and I missed out. This is the second time.

I was also told to watch out with what I say in front of her, as she has been employed there for so long, and she sabotages her co-workers. She does this my being intentionally rude, deliberately misinterpreting an innocent remark, and telling tales about their misdemeanours, until they have had enough, and leave. She then complains that she has to do it all by herself, and wonders why no one likes her.

The staff that she considers are in the “lesser” dept. ( I can’t tell you what or where),absolutely hate her. None of those people have said a word directly to me, but they say it to their Manager, who in turn tells me to watch out, and we never had this conversation.

Well, I am learning my lesson. She has made the odd remark now and then, which I have been suspicious about. I don’t trust her, and it is making me nervous about the whole moving thing. I mean, there are now two jobs at stake now. If I stand up to her re my clients, what is her position on G going to be? Actually, I don’t have to ask that question, I already know the answer.

I am just about ready to put my tail between my legs, turn around and hi-tail it out of there.

Now I remember why I have usually chosen a male dominated workplace. What a BITCH!


Up Side Down Angel

This Angel is up side down. Not just the picture, that’s me, upside down, back to front, in side out, and sideways. My world has reached a fork in the road, and is about to change big time.

Bye bye house with no neighbours, my stunning unbroken view of the mountains, my peace and quiet, and my privacy.

My beautiful Diesel, and the cat we inherited when we bought the house, both have to go.

Why? G has a new job. He has to live on site, no animals. So, weigh it all up on the scales, my husband or Diesel and the house? Husband, of course.

I have decided to keep two houses going for a while, just in case I hate it, or I have to get away, or…………for whatever reason. I don’t want to sell it, or rent it out, it’s my piece of heaven, my retreat and half of my world.

It’s thrown me. I have to support G in is career move. Really I don’t have a choice, he has supported me through all my life choices and changes. It’s about time he had some good stuff developing, especially after everything that has happened to him this year.

He handed in his resignation at work yesterday afternoon. The wheels of a Government department have been put into motion, no turning back now.

So, I have been feeling pretty awful since last night, unsettled, and today I’m freaking out. I thought I’d be fine, but I’m not. I don’t want to move my furniture either, that would put the seal of finality in place. I have no idea what to do.

Bush Talking with the Lord.

I have been trying to link a video from, called Some George Bush Moments. It keeps coming up as Blacklisted.

If you manage to find the clip, it’s well worth while. It’s more like Bush Bloopers. In the first bit he’s trying to deliver the State of the Union address, and he can’t remember what it’s called, and says “Call it whatever you want”.
This one is reasonably close to the one on
Here’s another to go on with:

Persian Angels & Wankers

There are a certain set of gents that love to dribble, from the mouth (and nether regions) about naked Middle Eastern women.

Quite possibly about any women, but they do point out in particular, mostly Iranian women

Apparently it is OK to associate the lack of Chador, and Petroleum Jelly, for use in a particular ritual.

The “ritual” seems to suit them down to the ground. I gues they could be called, and aptly so, wankers in the real sense of the word.

For a crew with a large ‘central’ blogroll, who repeatedly stress the importance of themselves and their site, 1400 hits a week (apparently) , it is definitely not professionalism that comes to the forefront of this particular article called Hot Persian Babes.

Angels De’ja’ vu

I am liking the new job, sort of.
It’s very different, which is good.
I am always busy, also good.
There is no where to smoke, which I am used to.
There are no seats outside, again used to.
There are no tea breaks, v. bad.
There is no lunchtime, again v. bad.
The person I am working with has been with the company for 14 years.
I was told by “A” manager not to trust C.
C has been the cause of several good people leaving the company.
C has run to the boss for every little nuance.
The staff had not been fired.
They had all left because of the attitude of C
She was like this (fingers crossed) with the big boss.
The “A “Manager told me this conversation didn’t happen.
And, if it did, “A” would deny it.
C lives on site.
C has no life outside work.
The big boss does not like smokers.
C knows I smoke.
My hours are 8.30 to 5.30
I actually work 8.15 to 6.30

Have I been here before?

Split Personality Angel

The good me is good, I mean really good. I work hard and don’t play hard. Hell, I don’t even have time to play! I am cool and calm, with not a hair out of place. I meet and greet, the epitome of graciousness. Mrs. Perfect, that’s me.

The bad me only comes out now and again, and everyone knows about it. They all breathe a sigh of relief when she has gone.

Remember, I am female. I hord all the little slights, the odd comment here and there, you know the ones. They cut you to pieces on the inside, but you don’t let them see it on the outside.Those little twists and turns of life that I sort of stockpile ,saving them until one special day comes along, that forces me to morph.

Into the second me, maybe I should say, the secret me. It was one of those days yesterday.

The funeral, flights out, kids out of their own environment and routine, a house full of people you are related to, but really hardly know, new job,…………all that sort of stuff, caused me to morph.

Why is it that after a death, the closest to the deceased need to fight? Why argue over the smallest things? He had told them exactly who was to get what, and they still fight tooth and nail over it. She did this, he said that.
Well, they don’t love me any more. I told them exactly what I thought of them, their bad behaviour, and disrespect, especially toward the deceased’s Mum, whom they pretty much ignored.
I doubt they will be returning any time soon. Thank Goddess for that. I don’t even like them.

Lazy Angel’s

Maybe there is someone who could benefit from reading this blog. You know who you are, read from start to finish. Then you may have a clue, but see your Therapist first.
First day, and I am absolutely stuffed, my head is filled with cotton wool, and I can’t remember a thing.

Text message just after lunch “he just died”. We knew this was coming, Cancer again. Funeral on Friday. I hate funerals. I decided not to go, and gave the excuse of ‘new job’. Sorry family, I just can’t do another one so soon.
I have told G, that when I die I don’t want a funeral at all. Nope, not me. He can get me cremated somewhere on the sly, and scatter my ashes on top of my favourite mountain at Walhalla.
Second day is a little better, I have remembered a few things, but need to keep notes. Lots of them! Monday 12/5 will be my first day by myself! Goddess help me! She doesn’t answer me though, so that means my approval rating goes up, right? Well, in this case, maybe not.
Day Three, meeting with the Culture & Quality Manager and Operations Manager, and things are looking better. It’s going to be the same as the last job though, from 8am to 5pm really means 8am to 8pm. But, and a big one at that, I do get 2 days off, back to back. What a delight!
I am going to try and find someone who can come and do 2 or 3 hours of housework per week for me. That will take a load off, and give me time to spend with the family, and maybe enjoy a few hours of ‘nothingness’.
I feel great for the first time in ages, and about time too! I hope my mind is in the right place, and I can be ‘immoderate’ now and again.

Don’t Ban the Blogger

The Blogger Buzz at the moment seems to indicate that if Google doesn’t like what you say, you are either stopped from publishing, as with An Arab Woman Blues, or are not included in Google News Index, ditto Uruknet. This is censorship and completely unfair.

There is, of course a tab to enable you to flag a blog as inappropriate, but really it’s quite simple. If you don’t like the content:


Personally I love the Middle Eastern writers, blogs, and news sites. It gives a different perspective on our predominantly Americanized news. Ergo we get views from both sides of the fence.

I don’t leave many comments, but I enjoy reading the comment sections. I am not a fan of comment moderation, even though some may be tedious or out right rude. You get to know the commenters, and if you don’t like what they say, skip it. Simple.

I have taken a tip from peacepalestine, and a commenter, earthheal, by using BlogBackupOnline, link available on right side of screen.

Christianity and the Angel of Death

Iraqi’s are sick of the fighting and the killing. There should be a mandatory mass evacuation of Iraqi’s to the US, who would welcome them with open arms. Yeah, right! What a joke, except it’s not in the least funny. You know Bush and Co., lied 530 times about WMD? It’s fact.
Christians these days do not associate themselves with being the cause of death and destruction. That is strange, given our history of invasion and colonisation. Here is a little example of Christian Terrorism, how very apt for this to turn up, via Layla, at this time.

It was us, was it not, that invaded the “Holy Land” first? What do I hear to that? No comment. We have a long history of invasion, destruction, and death. We cannot see it. That was back then, right? Yes, but it is still happening now. No, I’m not talking about Iraq, amazing!

We are often reminded by the media and the USA, of the age old feud’s in the Middle East, between Sunni and Shia, Palestinians and Jews, Turks and Kurds, the list goes on and on. “They are killing each other” Unfortunately, that is partly true.

Do we ever associate the rivalry with current day events in the West? The answer is no, of course. Now, a reminder. The Hell’s Angels and the Gypsy Jokers, as an example, are tribes that are warring. The rival gangs we hear about in Western cities, are tribe’s of a sort. These people are raised as Christians, or at the very least, in the so called “civilized” West. These “civilized” people are killing each other with guns, knives, and whatever else they can lay their hands on.

If one of them is killed, there is a revenge killing, or a savage brutal beating. What would you call this? Gang warfare. In tribal terms, or even soldiers terms, it would be “looking out for your family”, or “watching your mates back”.

An Americanism, “we blood, bro, you kill my blood, we kill your blood”. This is all out war, yet no-one can see it. Why? Because it is part of everyday life. There are none so blind as those who cannot see. What we refuse to see, is that this IS tribal, it IS war.

Did I hear you say they don’t blow each other up? Really? Dare I mention Northern Ireland? Or are they all Muslims too?

Finished Business

Yes! I finished a day early. Four days to clean my wardrobe out, dump the uniform, kick back and relax.

Well, maybe not relax too much, there is still the gardening and I need to pick up Dino Droppings, and clean the Dino while I’m at it.

The Dino (Diesel) now weighs 82 kilo’s, and is all grown up. I haven’t clipped under his paws for 6 weeks, it’s been pouring and the white is now black, and he has that wet dog smell.

I’ll have to find some recent pics of Diesel. He really is massive. I was lying on the floor the other day, when G let him inside. He had the cheek to sit on top of me, and I could’nt move! He thought I was playing.

I always have a towel for him inside, but I was trapped. He doesn’t lick you, but he did have shoelaces at that point.

I love Diesel, but there are times when he pushes the boundaries. This was one of them.