Monday, July 29, 2013


Drink Water
Litter Box
Clean Self
Litter Box
Drink Water
Clean Self

What Would Kitty Do?
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.

Friday, July 26, 2013


Fifty months of toil, over four years of strife, I have been under or unemployed since summer of 2009. I have completed hundred & hundreds of applications and gone on dozens of interviews. I stopped counting because it is too damn depressing. Thousands of hours have been spent searching on-line, being interviewed, and attending networking events. There is a cost for on-line access, mileage, nylons, and thank-you notes. I have a Master degree and over ten years of work experience but I can’t get hired.

I’ve procured a part-time job but the pay is horrible and there are no benefits. I’ve applied for other part-time jobs to fill in the gap but no go. Age discrimination? I dyed my hair a light brown. Size discrimination? I’ve been trying to lose weight. Education discrimination? I removed my Master degree from my resume so it won’t intimidate people. What else do I need to do? I’ve been singing and dancing as fast as I can…

No health or vision insurance. I’ll never be able to retire. One catastrophe away from bankruptcy. I am a frugal person. My savings are nearly depleted though I only purchase absolute necessities. Poverty breaks your heart. You lose hope. Depression and fear can be paralyzing. I wonder why. The big WHY. I wonder what I have done so wrong that I must experience this suffering. I know that I am fortunate compared to millions of people living in the world but it would be nice to be middle-class again. I’d like to return to being a donor to charities instead of a recipient.

My car needs tires and a tune up. Actually, I really need a car with better mileage. I need an oven that doesn’t spew carbon monoxide when I cook. My shower needs to be repaired. The washing machine is dead. My front walkway needs replacing, it’s a hazard. I have delayed and deferred home maintenance that I fear being cited by the city. I’d love to refinance the house at a lower interest rate but no bank will re-mortgage me while I only work part-time. I need dental work done. I have an outstanding bill at a nonprofit community medical clinic; I have to pay for another cervical biopsy because they are concerned that I have cancer. I don’t have the energy to fret. I won’t treat it anyway because of lack of funds.

Bitch bitch, moan moan. I feel to sick and tired of trying. My options are running out. I am headed towards bankruptcy unless I get a better paying job soon. I cry every time I get rejected after an interview. Anxiety is my constant companion. If you have ever received any joy from reading this blog, please make a contribution. You pay to go to the movies or a concert, right? This blog is an art form. I express myself with words instead of a paintbrush or clay. Please donate to my cause, “Feed the Kitty” at Thank you for your time and consideration of this request. Tilly and ZoZo express gratitude, too!!

All gifts are graciously accepted.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013


Celebrate the lucky thirteenth Cash Mob St Paul MN (CMSPM)! Help support a local business by spending at least $20 cash at this event (okay to spend less). Join our Facebook page and click on our events.

CMSPM Event #13
Please join us!
Date: Saturday, July 27th, 2013
Time: 11am (okay to arrive late or visit shop on a different day)
Location: The Bookshop
1940 Lexington Ave N, Roseville 55113
Directions: South of Highway 36 on Lexington Avenue,
next to ACE Hardware, north of Roselawn.
Parking lot on the South side of the building.

The cash mob rules are simple:
1. Spend $20 cash (more or less but cash does speed up the check out process),
2. Chat with three people that you don’t know but please bring along a friend or two, and
3. Enjoy yourself! We want this to be a fun experience for everyone.

On the CMSPM Facebook (FB) page:
* Please RSVP with “Join” if you can make it; invite your FB Friends; and SHARE THIS INVITATION WITH OTHERS via FB by posting on your personal page. Help spread the word to non-FB folks (see next paragraph for details).
* If you can’t attend, you can temporarily indicate a “Maybe” to invite your FB friends and then decline at a later date.
* Please decline before the event if you have to cancel. It’s rude to be a no-show.
* “Like” our FB community page at “Cash Mob St Paul MN” to receive notification of future events and invite your FB Friends to join us, too!!/pages/Cash-Mob-St-Paul-MN/297499490345966

We welcome other methods of advertising our efforts, if you would like to co-host or publicize this event in another way, such as MeetUp or another Facebook group. Please send a message via our FB page and keep us informed as to the numbers of people attending. The more the merrier!

We permit business owners to nominate their own shop. If we banned proprietors, they would just ask someone else to recommend their store. If the weather is terrible, kindly visit the store on another date. We will not reschedule.

Optional: Wear something green to the occasion to indicate that you are a member of the Cash Mob…just an idea, not a requirement.

Thank you ever so much!

PS If you can’t join us for this happening, please patronize the business another time and let them know that you heard about their entrepreneurial efforts from Cash Mob St Paul MN.

Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013


IT’S A … does the gender really matter? Third in line to the throne, who cares? What is important is that the child and mother are healthy and that they can live a happy life. They need adequate food, water, shelter, safety, and access to medical care. The child should attend school for free to learn how to read, write, and do basic arithmetic. Hopefully, there is the option for a bright student to further their education to obtain a high school diploma and attend college.

There has been too hype about the British Royal Birth. I do not care. I wish them well, as with all births. They are mere humans, just as we are ALL mere humans. Their pooh smells as bad as everyone else’s. The bestowment of “royalty” is arbitrary. Some ancient relative procured the title and it is handed down to biological heirs. Leadership is not a hereditary trait. We have seen many, many, many examples of that throughout history. Remember W? All "crown heads" should be absolved. Let them just be ordinary people.

Sadly, there are myriad examples of modern day dynasties around the world. A military leader or political leader with military/armed personnel backing overthrows the government and declares himself or herself the President or Prime Minister or Great Leader. They may actually start out well but eventually they fear losing power so they clamp down and harm their own people (Syria, North Korea, et al). They will start a new line of “royalty” by passing along their title to a child. Pitiful. The elite may benefit from this arrangement but the general public suffers.

It’s good to focus on a positive event. However, it would be nice to balance the attention and help ordinary kids in need. For every dollar spent on Royal Birth stuff, two dollars should be donated to charities that help pregnant women and infants. That would have a real impact on the world. Aid the kids who need it the most.

All pooh smells the same.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.

Sunday, July 21, 2013


Eagle eyes used to me my nickname. As a kid could clearly see and identify objects a lot further than my friends. I still have very extensive peripheral vision. I remember the classroom driver’s education teacher, who was the football coach, being surprised that I could see so far back. He asked why I wasn’t in sports; I had to admit to lack of interest in front of the whole class. Embarrassing.

All was well until I went to college. I began to get headaches while reading. I went to the doctor who said that I should get my eyes examined. As a result, I procured some mild reading spectacles with a correction for astigmatism. I used them all during college and only needed a stronger prescription once. Around the age of thirty I began to notice that distances were starting to get blurry. I procured glasses for driving and long distance viewings, like attending movies.

Around the age of forty it was necessary to obtain reading glasses again. I was able to acquire a pair of standard glasses from the pharmacy. Unfortunately, my need for stronger distance and reading glass prescription occurred after my health insurance ended. I checked around but there are very few options for no or low cost vision assistance for adults in the Twin Cities area. Dial 211 to obtain a referral via United Way’s First Call for Help. or call 651-291-0211 for assistance.

I was accepted by Salvation Army’s Vision Program. They paid for an exam and I had to pay $25 for a pair of glasses. The frame selection was extremely limited but I found a pair that was acceptable. The doctor convinced me that I should wear bi-focals. It took a couple weeks for the glasses to be delivered and the reading portion was too high on the glasses. I had to get them sent back. When they were returned I said that I’d try them out.

I do not like my bifocals. The line of the bifocal is still rather high and I don’t feel safe driving with them. I tried wearing them at work but they were useless because I don’t need the distance correction for the computer screen. They have only proven useful for reading books and watching television. I doubt if the vision program will let me get them adjusted again. I’ll just have to wait to get a full-time better paying job and buy nice glasses.

What a pain in the optical nerve.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.

Thursday, July 18, 2013


As a child I never liked coloring books. I wasn’t interested in filling in someone else’s drawings. I was always adding my own stuff to the picture and being informed that I was doing it wrong. One of my teachers was a mild 1970s radical. She kept playing Marlo Thomas’ album, “Free To Be You and Me.” It encouraged individuality and I “dug” that concept. However, she was the only teacher who didn’t force me to conform. The ONLY teacher during thirteen arduous years in the public school system.

Perhaps that is why I detest painting the house. I have to follow the lines and make it uniform. I’d love to add sculptural pieces and draw anomalous shapes on the house. The result would probably bring down the resale value. During the 1990s, the artist Tyree Guyton convinced a lady in St. Paul to nail shoes to her house. I actually visited the home and it looked rather cool. However, the shoes eventually rotted and fell off. The nails punctured the insulation and rusted. She had to obtain help from a nonprofit to completely redo her home after a couple years. The artist should have chosen a condemned house to beautify before it was torn down.

A few years ago I painted my garage a light lavender my neighbor nearly had a heart attack. She was afraid that I was going to paint my house purple. She also loved the Twilight series (as a reference). Actually, I’d love to hire a team of artists to paint my home bright tones. But alas, I must stick to the white paint and dark chocolate brown trim that I procured a couple years ago. I can’t afford to even purchase a gallon of paint. Lack of money sucks.

I repainted a large portion of the house and the entire garage several years ago. This year I only need to touch up and have enough white and brown paint to suffice for the house. I am low on lavender so my garage may procure white splotches. I am focusing on exposed wood. Water rots wood and carpenter ants like to chew on wet wood. My schedule and the weather did not cooperate until the 4th of July holiday weekend to work on this chore.

Silly me, I thought that it would be a two-day task. Ha-ha-ha. I had to scrape, fill in gaps with wood filler, let the filler dry, sand the filler, and then prime. Paint two coats and then touch up the drips and drabs. Up and down the short ladder. Three full days and a couple hours on the fourth only completed the majority house touch-ups. Later in the summer I will need to focus on a portion of the porch now covered by sweet pea vines and garage. I still have some furniture to paint and I’d like to repaint the inside of the front porch, too.

Perspiration and exhaustion ensued. Ghastly hot and humid weather. I sweated so extensively that I didn’t need to urinate. At one point I felt woozy. I staggered into the house and gulped down two glasses of water and then had a terrible craving for salt. I opened the saltshaker and literally ate about a teaspoon. About fifteen minutes later I finally began to feel better. I knew enough to end for the day so I took a shower and fell asleep on the couch.

I was bright enough to wear cheap latex gloves while painting. I am rather messy and it reduced the adherence of paint to my hands and fingernails. I had slathered myself down with sunscreen and a layer of mosquito repellant. The paint that attached itself to my skin washed off very easily. Somehow, I managed not to get any into my hair. I am too darn afraid of heights to venture to the second floor windows. They will have to wait until I get a job and can hire someone for the task. Fear of falling while uninsured keeps me grounded.

Feet on the ground.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing; All rights reserved.

Monday, July 15, 2013


Translation is a tricky process. Technically, a literal translation should be a word for word substitution but some languages do not match syntactically. The word order may be different, a specific phrase or word may not exist in the translated language that is equivalent the author’s intention. I think that it would be best to have a committee of three convert each book. If two members agree on a sentence, then it can be considered to be accurate. Ideally, the author would participate to explain the nuances.

Unfortunately, I doubt that publishing companies would either spend the funding or time to properly translate their books. Some authors may not really care (deceased persons are excluded, of course). Thus, the original version of these novels may be much better than the English translation that I encountered, a loss for English language readers. I may have harshly judged translated books in previous reviews. I’ll note if the novel is translated from this point onwards with the note [Translated] at the end of the review.

Lifetime by Liza Marklund Three and a Half Worms
Complicated flawed characters and equally complex story. Well written with only a smattering of dry humor. At least bathroom breaks were acknowledged.

The Book of Fate by Parinoush Saniee Three Worms
Memoir-like fictional tale of a woman dealing with an oppressive society and war. Extreme emotions and drama shows her strength. The ending is disappointing, though.

Last Rituals by Yrsa Sigurdardottir Three Worms
Medieval sorcery rears itself in modern day Iceland. Unraveling of the mystery is somewhat interesting but the actual circumstance of the main plot was rather mundane.

Paprika by Yasutaka Tsutsui Two Worms
Odd combination of psychiatry and science fiction. Central character was an intelligent woman but the overall tenor was misogynistic. Excessive violent and sexual images. Repelled that the author thought that anyone would want to be raped. Disappointing ending after a psychedelic episode.

The Retrospective by A.B. Yehoshua Two Worms
Rather bland journalistic approach to an elderly filmmaker’s review. Book would probably appeal to film aficionados. Character’s obsession with a specific painting is disgusting and creepy.

The Fall of Stone City by Ismail Kadare One Worm
Labyrinth story is difficult to follow. Characters aren’t developed enough to care about their fate.

World of Words.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Friday, July 12, 2013


Breathing becomes deep and staggered, the eyes begin to dance beneath their lids, the face muscles relax as the arms and legs tremor, the paws clench, whiskers and tail twitch, and the cat dreams. I wonder what felines dream about when they enter Rapid Eye Movement (REM) deep sleep. Mice, running from danger, eating? Both my cats are virgins so it isn’t about sex, right?

Catnaps are a frequent light sleep. They are still listening and can instantly wake up to run or fight; their survival depends upon this ability. It is only when they feel safe can they slumber. I love watching my cat’s nap turn into REM. Their face softens as their muscles give way. Zozo looks particularly peaceful when she enters the valley of dreams. Sometimes she will jolt and wake herself up from a dream. She blinks her eyes and yawns to adjust the side of her face and whiskers that are askew. Her ears twitter and flatten as she yawns. As an indoor feline, she has the luxury of having time to regain consciousness. If she were outside, she could die if a predator pounced while she was waking up.

I know that the cats trust me when they crawl up on me and enter REM while I’m sitting on the couch. It’s great when both cats are dreaming simultaneously. Zozo prefers to sleep on my right side either on top of or under a soft fleece blanket. Tilly will sleep on top or under a blanket (during cold weather) or on a fleece blanket that I place on top of a footrest. She snores when she retires on her right side. I wish that I had a video camera and could post her antics on You Tube. Occasionally, one of them will crawl up on my chest and sleep. I call that “tummy time” because I can rub their soft belly more easily. The only time that it poses a problem is when I am trying to read a book and the cat complains when I turn the page.

Momo, my first cat, would cry in her sleep. Not a moan or groan but a cry of fear. I would go to her and provide reassurance by petting her gently and talking in a comforting voice. I don’t know if it helped but she would usually purr when she woke up from her nightmare. She had been abused and neglected by her previous human servants so I know that she had painful memories. About two years after I got her, her former human provider came by my house. Momo was terrified. She did want him to touch her. I had to assure her that she was safe and she didn’t purr until he had left the house. Thankfully, Zozo and Tilly have never been subjected to that despicable behavior. They only cry about lack of treats and access to the second floor. Poor creatures!

Bliss is sitting on the porch reading with both cats relaxed. Tilly likes to sleep in the open window with her head resting on the sill. Zozo will snooze on the couch. I sip some tea or a glass of wine and enjoy the peace and quiet. During the winter, we snuggle under a blanket on the couch but it is wonderful. I know that they are dependent upon me but they could choose to sleep elsewhere. They want to be with me and that feels great.

Sweet Dreams
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013


One thing always leads to another. Water in the basement begets relocating the cat food upstairs into the bathroom since the dark damp swamp mildews the food. Tilly, the troublemaker, refuses to eat out of a bowl. She must pull the kibble out and push it around before intake. Thus, little bits of consumables are scattered around the area.

Feline food is drenched in oil to reduce the instances of hairball vomit. Good thing. Bad thing when wee brown ants are attracted to the oil and attempt to carry fragments down a small crack in the shower caulk to their colony. The cat food has been in the bathroom before but this is the first time that ants decided to swarm the calories. It’s a horrible sight to see hundreds of ants inside the house.

Swept and mopped up the ants. Washed out the basin of the shower with water to get rid of the food oils and cover up the scent trail of ants for their hive-mates. Located the crack in the tile where the ants emerge and caulked it. Took the food outside in sieve and shook it until all the ants had tumbled into the grass. Crushed the random ant seeking its way back to the now closed tunnel. I had to reseal the entrance and squash ants for two days. Felt a little guilty about annihilating this segment of their population. However, there are hundreds of ant colonies thriving in my flower garden and yard.

It has been a tough year for ants. I’m sure that their underground hives have been continuously flooded. One colony relocated some its eggs onto several milkweed plants. Noticed the first monarch flying around on June 18th. Sadly, I haven’t located any monarch caterpillars. I’ve found a few milkweed leaves with signs of nibbling but no bugs. Last year, I hatched fifty butterflies during June. Another twenty or so died due to an infestation of a fly, which laid its larva inside the caterpillar and the butterfly died in-vetro when the fly would emerge. The flowers are slow to bloom this year. Global warming sucks.

Return to Normal!
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Monday, July 8, 2013


The garden has been abysmal this year. During 2012 I had a bumper crop since everything was planted by the first of May. This year the roots have been rotting and killing the plants or lack of sunlight and warmth has delayed the growth. Several tomato plants died from root rot, which is extremely unusual since tomatoes love water.

My harvest has consisted of chives and rhubarb. Peas are only now starting to produce. The broccoli is growing well but that is about it. I placed potatoes in pots to make them easier to harvest and they are thriving probably since the excess water readily drains. Unfortunately, a lot of the water has been leaking into my basement.

The hostas are huge. A lot of jack-in-the-pulpit seeds germinated so they are blooming throughout the shaded areas of the garden. This is the first year that a variety of deep purple irises are blooming, whereas other flowers aren’t doing well at all. I just hope that the native perennials have the ability to survive the excessive moisture. Last year it was too dry during the late summer and fall and but the pendulum has swung back. Feast or famine.

I fear that Global Warming is irrevocable. We stupid humans have caused the Earth to speed up its normal pondering warming cycle and the results will be catastrophic. The changes have already begun and will only become more extreme. I am fortunate to reside in the middle of the country with access to an aquifer. No wonder wealthy people have been buying large estates in Minnesota and Wisconsin. They are establishing their homesteads to be “off the grid” with solar & wind power, and thermal heating/cooling. The climate change could be sudden and then begin the process of cooling with volcanoes. The spewing of volcanic ash into the atmosphere is the fastest method to cool the planet and start another ice age. I’ll be long dead but it will be horrible for the surviving humans and the unfortunate flora and fauna impacted by our idiotic greedy behavior. We may make ourselves extinct. It would be our own damn fault.

Cool me down.
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Saturday, July 6, 2013


Impaled by choice. Skewered. The sharp pain went through my vaginal opening, echoed up my stomach and crashed into my spine. I wanted to scream, instead I did the huffing breaths to ensure that I didn’t faint and began talking about the silly cats. The attempt at distraction didn’t help reduce the incredible pain and discomfort of a colposcopy procedure. The gynecological doctor kept apologizing for hurting me. At least she admitted to having a similar exam so she knew what it felt like, which is why I will only see female medical practitioners. Agony.

My menstruation cycle has become erratic during the past two years. I thought it was because of the starting of Peri-menopause. I qualified for the Sage Program due to lack of health insurance and being over the age of 40. I received a no cost pap and pelvic exam and breast x-ray. I’ve had to endure P & Ps since I was in my 20s. The first encounter was to procure birth control pills from Boyton Health Service at the University of Minnesota while I was an undergrad. Uncomfortable, embarrassing, and painful. That was back in the day when the doctor would stick their finger up you bum and press on the ovaries. Humiliating and disgusting. I have diligently subjected myself to the procedure every other year. However, I haven’t had health insurance for several years it has been a while since I have had to endure that experience.

When I turned thirty the doctors added a breast exam. I’d always had the palpitations during the P & P but getting an x-ray is a different modus operandi. Each boob is compressed several times between two pieces of plexiglas. If the technician isn’t careful, you will get a bruise. Not enjoyable. This year I went to the Piper Breast Center at Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis. Parking is deplorable but the Piper Institute is wonderful. The receptionists were a bit cool but the volunteers and staff was terrific. The suite looks like a spa and I got to wear a soft bathrobe and sip tea while I waited for an exam room to become available. It was degrading when the technician announced out loud that I was a part of the Sage Program. Otherwise, it was a lovely place to be. All they need is harp music, wine, fruit and cheese and it would be perfection.

I’ve had abnormal Pap Smears and had to get them redone on at least three occasions, yuck. The second smear was always normal. This year the Gyn RN Nurse Practitioner was concerned about my unpredictable period. Per example, during May I trickled for three weeks, three bloody weeks, ugh! I had a normal four-day period in early June and then two weeks later I spotted for five days. She recommended a biopsy. Thus, the horrible colposcopy. I had to pay for it because my P & P was normal, which sucks.

The OB-GYN (obbs and gobs doctor) started by inserting a cold speculum into my vaginal opening. I requested the smallest version since it has been years, too damn long, since I have had sexual intercourse. The speculum was too short so she had to get a longer one and that was also cold from the air conditioning in the clinic. She then inserted a device to force my cervix open (tenaculum). My cervix is “shy” since it is curved away from the vagina, which is why it would be virtually impossible for me to carry a child full-term. I had to clutch my hands into fists and place them under my pelvis to tilt the cervix a bit. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

“This will pinch,” she cautioned. Ha! The impalement occurred when the doctor threaded in a long plastic tube used to scrape endometrial tissue off the wall of my cervix (endocervical curette). It was horrific. My body reacted with violent cramps. Under the advice of the Gyn RN I had already consumed a couple aspirin but it did nothing to dull the pain. The first tube didn’t collect enough and she had to do it again. It took all my powers of concentration to not scream. I had to wait for her to push the samples into a formaldehyde bath before she began to remove the instruments of torture. The whole procedure was less than an hour.

The intense cramps continued for about twelve hours. It was extremely uncomfortable to sit at a desk for work. I ate a lot of aspirin and tried to focus my thoughts elsewhere. My vaginal opening was tender. It felt like I had had sex. Internally it was sore, I felt bruised. It took more than a day for the cramps to finally cease and I was physically uncomfortable for several days.

I hope the test results are “normal.” I don’t know what I would do if they diagnosed cancer. I have no health insurance and few financial assets. I don’t have any dependents besides the cats and no strong relationship bonds with humans. I have friends but would not want to burden them with my suffering. If I was diagnosed with cancer, I would get rid of my material possessions, sell the house and move into an efficiency apartment. I would procure a lot of pain medication. I would not tell anyone, except you, dear readers. As I near the point of inability to take care of myself, I would commit suicide. Sad, but true. I’d rather die than suffer.

Informational resource at,P07767/

Men all pause.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Thursday, July 4, 2013


DOMA is dead, DOMA is dead, Ding – Dong, the wicked DOMA is dead! (sung to the tune of “Wicked Witch is Dead” from the Wizard of Oz). Thank you to the courageous Plaintiffs, their legal team, and the Supreme Court of the United States of America (SCOTUS) for ending this idiotic legislation and overturning Proposition 8. SCOTUS also reinstated same-sex marriage in California and it will become legal in Minnesota as of August 1st, 2013.

PRIDE Festival 2013 was a joyous occasion. I volunteered at a booth on Sunday, June 30th and then walked around afterwards. I was fortunate to locate parking within a few blocks of Loring Park in downtown Minneapolis. I arrived early and opened the booth. It was a pleasant morning and people were very happy.

PRIDE has evolved a lot from when I began attending during the 1980s. Back then; there were a couple dozen booths and a few people playing guitars on the one and only stage. The parade was brief and we had a lot of police around because “gay bashers” would target attendees to beat up. I remember being heckled by a young man saying that all I needed was a good “fuck” to be straight. My friends were concerned but I laughed and said loudly, “I am straight but you aren’t good enough for me.” The heckler looked stunned and walked away.

The Festival now has hundreds of booths and several performance areas. The parade is huge and parking is horrendous. The organizers need to move to a better location, perhaps the Minnesota State Fairgrounds. It has become very “corporate” and lost its folksy charm. There are still the “on the edge” booths featuring nudists, fetish clubs, penis and vagina artwork. Some of the attendees are outrageous in a benign manner but some were rather lewd. Parents would need to talk with their kids about appropriate behavior and good boundaries both before and after the event.

Crowds swarmed the park after the conclusion of the PRIDE Parade. I was invited to march with several units but I don’t really like parades too much. Noise and visual stimulation can be overwhelming at times. I enjoyed walking around and bumping into people that I know. Nice to see so many wedding-related booths. I listened to the profoundly talented Mayda perform. She did not appear well. I hope she feels better soon and gains some weight. Her talent is too huge to lose.

Every Fourth of July, we Americans celebrate our Independence Day. Our ancestors chose to break away from another country to operate as an elected democracy. Democracy is a challenging process but moves us closer to true equity for all. Thus, it is imperative that the members of our community who are homosexual, bisexual, and transgendered receive the same rights, and subsequently, responsibilities. Same-sex marriage is a positive evolution for democracy. If you don’t agree with same-sex marriage, then don’t marry someone of the same gender. More weddings will bring about more divorces and custody battles, a win-win situation for the legal community. However, its about recognizing love and the stability of marriage. Hip-hip-hooray!

Equity for All: All for Equity.
Copyright © 2013 by Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013


Cinnamon and Gunpowder by Eli Brown Four Worms
Pirates, plunder, and adventure. Charmed by the voice of the main character as he transforms upon the high seas. Intelligent novel despite the despoiling sentence under each new chapter heading. It ruined the surprise.

Josh Whoever by Michael Guillebeau Three and a Half Worms
Witty mystery with action and murder. Careful stitching of plot-lines. Irritating that one of the second-line characters was never given a name.

Decadence by Eric Jerome Dickey Two and Half Worms
Erotica is a story tied up with sex. Well, this book is blatantly descriptive of sexual encounters with a wisp of story intertwined. Described every combination except male + male. Story needed further expansion and the diatribes were self-righteous and exhausting. Thirty Shades of Grey genre...

People of the Black Sun by Kathleen O’Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear Two and Half Worms
Final book in series shorthands the multitude of characters, which is confusing for a first-time reader. Genealogical chart and glossary needed in the beginning of the book since myriad people change names or use nicknames. Historically based Native American narrative but it requires more development to be truly interesting. Impressive bibliography.

Studio Saint-Ex by Ania Szado Two Worms
Fake memoir sways from beautiful descriptions of creating clothing to convoluted interactions. Mignonne’s character isn’t fully explored and it is difficult to develop empathy for her plight.

Looking for five worms…..
© Copyright 2013 Ima B. Musing: all rights reserved.