Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Happy Halloween 2012~~~~~

Happy Halloween Darklings,

I'm taking a short coffee break here at home,  and finishing putting up the last of the outside decorations.

I'm hoping that it will hold off raining long enough for our young trick or treaters to get lots of treats.

I'm having a few friends over tonight for various munchies and to watch a spooky movie or two, depending on how late they wish to stay.  But I know they will want to stay and watch the first movie  "Poltergeist",  I have two choices for the 2nd movie either the upgraded version of "The Exorcist" or "Amityville Horror"  I think we'll have to cast a vote on the 2nd one.

The one thing I like about my Kitchen and pantry is it's large, and I have two ovens to heat and bake things, as well as a large microwave,  so having done a run to Costco yesterday afternoon and also raiding Nob Hill Foods and Safeway, I have lots of goodies to serve   as well as several bottles of Vampire Wine,  Everyone is coming in costume but I told them to make sure the costumes are something they can be comfortable in.

One of my friends is here now baking "Black Velvet" Cake,  she does a wonderful job, so once the cake is cooled and decorated and safely under it's glass cake dish, she is going home to take care of somethings and then I'll see her later at the party.

Last night Doyle gave me an early Halloween present.   Yes Darklings you can give presents on Halloween if you like.  One was a tiny "hurdy-gurdy" music box and when you crank it it plays "Grim, Grinning, Ghosts" the theme from Disney's Haunted Mansion.  I'm going to take that with me to work on Friday

The other is the Betty Crocker Halloween Cookbook!!!  I love both of his gifts and with the cookbook I can add more Halloween recipes.   Lovely things that I can make all year round.

Doyle, being practical, said that anything that is not heated and eaten we can have for dinner for the next 4 or 5 days, maybe, but my friends can be a very hungry group.

I look forward to Halloween every year, the only thing that can make it a little disappointing is if it rains,  of course back East it must be very sad for a lot of young people because of the Hurricane Sandy,  my friends and I are going to take up a donation to send to one of the agencies that will be assisting those that have been displaced by the storm, we're not sure yet which one but one of my other friends is looking into it.

And you my Darklings can do the same,  if you are going to have a party tonight, set aside a "Cauldron" to take donations to aid those who need help from the storm, look up a legitimate agency, like the Red Cross and see what you can do.   It will be a wonderful Treat for those that received a horrible Trick from the Storm.

Have a Happy and Safe Halloween.

Later Darklings

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Gothic Charm School, Sisters and Pimps~~~~~

Dear Darklings,

I’m sure some of you have come across this book and the attendant web site, but if you haven’t then I certainly recommend it, especially for all you lovely Baby Bats.

Alright for the very few that aren’t aware of this site it’s called “Gothic Charm School” and the Mistress of Ceremonies and well known Lady of Manners is Mistress Jillian Venters.

She wrote the book “Gothic Charm School: An essential guide for Goths and those who love them” I believe you can still purchase it at

For Halloween etiquette check out this page for the rules for Halloween, so very important my Darklings, so very important.

Now if the above link doesn't work I'll post the web site on my links page.

But a book like this can help young Baby Bats to begin to negotiate the Goth life and can help parents understand some of the difficulties that young people are going through and parents cannot say they didn’t go through it, they did but back then there were other stresses, other pressures.

I’d have to say that I was lucky in many respects, having positive support and re-enforcement from my family, but once in a while my Mother or Granny would come up with a “zinger” about something, and their remark would catch me completely off guard but also remind me how really “with it” they were.

Prime example----a number of years ago when my Mother was still alive, we went the City, I think we were hunting for a wedding present and finally decided it would be easier to get a gift certificate for the future couple at a nearby store where they were registered, trust me Darklings, so much easier than trying to guess if they have a toaster or not.

As we sat on a bench to rest in old Union Square park surrounded by so many wonderful stores to give a shopaholic an overload, and come to a final decision, Mother looked up and saw a young man dressed in a dark blue shirt and tan jeans that had a red patch right were the zipper goes, Mother turned to me and asked “Is that a stain or is he advertising?”

I have to admit her remark did catch me off guard but I did take a look and said to her “It’s not a stain,” and she replied very straight faced “Well he doesn’t have much to advertise either”. When she said that I whooped with laughter and did my best to get it under control, but it was hard Darklings, trust me it was hard.

When we got home I had to share this with my younger sister, and we both were rolling around in laughter, sweet but straight laced Mother making a remark like that, of course Dad had to ask why we were laughing so much and we told him, he looked at us and also began to laugh but he got himself under control very quickly and said “You have to be careful with Mother, she can be ‘deadly’”. When our younger brother came home from playing with his friends, he couldn’t understand why we looked so silly and shrugged it off as “girl stuff”, and went into the Kitchen looking for something to eat.

Which brings me to my sister, brief bio on her, I adore her, her verve and nerve, she married soon after she graduated from college and worked part time, had two lovely children now adults, one child is married with one child her own and another on the way, the other is engaged. But my sister did divorce when she found out that her husband of 15 years was cheating on her--- with another man--- so they had a quiet divorce and set things up so the children would not be a financial burden, and surprisingly are still friends at the insistence of her ex-husbands’ boy friend. When the children were grown enough for her to work full time she found a job that is the best of many world, something she enjoys doing and gets paid for it and travels a fair amount.

My sister called me Monday evening, I’m glad and relieved that she is safe from the storm on the East Coast and we had a wonderful talk, she’ll be coming into the area from just before Thanksgiving to just after New Years, usually she looks for a very short term rental or one of those Hotels for business visitors, but she asked me if I didn’t mind putting her up for the 6 weeks or so that she’d be here.

I asked her why was she switching from her usual pattern and she replied that one of the places she’d stay at is undergoing extensive renovation, one other had increased its rates, but she’d heard from colleagues that the service was not up to par, and at one other place that she stayed at she felt unsafe as the neighborhood had changed quiet a bit. There were others but she just didn’t have the time to check them out.

I told her she could stay with me and we’d agreed that she’d pay me the increase difference in the utilities usage and also for any food should she eat at home, this is something that I know she would do anyway, because she’d write it off as a business expense and other arrangements, since she knew that I had a very crazy schedule especially around the holidays. And I felt it would be good to see her when we could between her assignments while she was here.

As a matter of fact I suggested to her that it might be good for her to use my home as her home base of operations from now on, since I had plenty of bed rooms, that way she didn’t have to worry about putting things into storage or finding a short term rental all the time. One of the bedrooms that I have is empty and she can set up her “housekeeping” there.

She liked the idea and said we could work the details out when she arrives; I’ve noticed with her over the last few years that she had become more and more Goth in outlook as well, cultivating the darker side and darker nature of life, perhaps its her work, but I do know that when she learned I had inherited our Great Aunt’s house she was thrilled beyond belief.

During our phone conversation she reminded me of the time we spent over at Grandma’s house when our family home was being fumigated for termites and that motel that was next door to Granny’s.

Oh that was an uproarious adventure.

I had just started college taking a summer class and my sister just completed her 2nd year of high school, our brother was in the 8th grade and looking forward to starting high school the next year. Dad had gone into the basement one day because of a hot water heater problem and noticed sawdust, and not the kind from sawing wood. Upon closer inspection by a professional it was pronounced that we had been invaded by termites, and on one side of the house it was bad.

The only way to get rid of them was to “tent” the house and do a serious fumigation, what a nightmare that was, every spare minute that we had when not doing homework was spent in moving things out and over to grandma’s, as much clothing as possible, towels, bedding, food and personal toiletries, boxes of things. We were glad that my sister and brother just started their Summer break and I was only taking one college course for the Summer.

What could not be moved was going to be washed so we were to be evicted until at such time it was safe to return.

It was for almost a month, so for us children we were camping on the floor of the living room, my doing homework on the dinning room table and Mother keeping peace so our brother would not pester us as younger brothers like to do. There were times he could be such an annoyance. But in a way my sister and I enjoyed it, it was sort of a long term “sleep-over”, we only wished we didn’t have annoying little brother around, how many times he came close to being drowned in Grandma’s ornamental fish pond he’ll never know. My sister and I would think of “fiendish” ways to get rid of him, which we never carried out, but it was fun thinking about it.

It was sort of seeing “Wednesday Addams” with her brother “Pugsley” just before she was going to pull the lever on the electric chair, but never carried out, it was a scene that we both could relate to.

Next door to Grandma’s house was a motel, it had off street parking as well as parking under the building, so instead of it being a 2 story building it pushed it up to being 3 story, the only saving grace was the fact that there was also a parking lot that was wide enough to have a lot of space between the motel and the house, but it could be an annoyance.

During the month we were there a pimp in his fancy convertible pimp-mobile would drop off several of his “girls” then after a few hours would come by, pull into the parking lot and honk the horn of his car so they’d come out either at 11 p.m. or Midnight, it was getting very annoying.

It being a Saturday night my Sister, Mother, Granny and I were doing our “beauty routine”, our hair was up in pink sponge rollers so we could sleep on them, our faces covered in beauty masks to tighten up our pores, the masks were made of a blue mud like substance slowly drying on our faces, painting our nails and dressed in our night gowns. I remember I was dressed in a dark blue filmy baby doll night gown with a short filmy matching robe. We were having fun while Dad and my brother stayed out of the way, Friday and Saturday were the two evenings my brother could stay up late and they were watching “Creature Features” that night.

We were upstairs in Granny’s bedroom, her windows overlooked the roof to her laundry room, and we could have an excellent view of her back yard and the parking lot to the motel. As a matter of fact more than once we’d climb out of those windows to pick the fruit off of the apple tree that grew on the other side of her house, but we had to be careful because the roof on the laundry room sloped slightly downward.

And that evening, once again the Pimp in his pimp-mobile showed up and started honking his horn, after dealing with this for several weeks and I knew Granny had been dealing with it for months, I grabbed Grandpa’s old double barrel shot gun that Granny had mounted on a rack on the wall in the hall, the shotgun didn’t work any more as the firing pins were very worn down.

Here was I just mad as hell about this annoyance, in my dark blue baby doll night gown and robe, wearing pink sponge rollers in my hair, a blue mud pack on my face and pink fuzzy-wuzzy slippers on my feet (I had not done my pedicure yet).

I went to the windows climbed out and slowly walked on the roof to the edge that overlooked the parking lot, I could hear Mother saying to me “What are you going to do?” and my sister saying “Be careful.”

I could see very clearly the pimp and his car with the convertible rag top down so you could clearly see them in the car; two of his girls were getting in with the third lagging behind.

I yelled out “Get your Ass and your cheap girl’s asses out of here and don’t come back!! Otherwise I’m gonna put a extra hole in Your Ass!!!”, I shouldered the non-working shot-gun to my shoulder as if I knew how to use it and the Pimp and his girls looked up and they all screamed at what must have been the sight from hell with a shot-gun.

The pimp gunned his car back wards and hit a concrete pole doing some serious back end damage, his third girl was running to the car losing her high heeled platform shoes and yelling at him “Don’ leave me!!!” she jumped in the back seat of the convertible head first and as the pimp spun his car around and hit the front end of his car on the same pole, her legs were waggling in the air and one could see she was not wearing any underwear, the car left rubber tire tread marks on the road as he took off with the girls ducking down fearful that I might shoot at them. (which I couldn’t shoot anyway)

The temporary tenants of the motel and the motel manager came out and saw what was causing the commotion. I heard some laughter as they took in the scene.

After the pimp and his girls took off down the road, I carefully went back to the windows and climbed back in while Dad and my brother came running up the stairs to see what had started the ruckus and saw me calmly putting the old shotgun back on the rack in the hall. Mother and Granny explained to Dad what I had done while my sister was laughing so hard she fell backwards onto Granny’s bed.

Dad looked at me, then at the shot gun, looked at me again, then back to the shot gun, finally he turned to me and said “I think that Pimp was more afraid of what you looked like instead of the shotgun.” And he and my brother who was laughing and saying “wait till I tell my buddies about you!” went back down stairs to finish “Creature Features.”

At first I was puzzled by Dad’s calm remark until I took a look in the mirror and saw what Jeff Foxworthy calls “The Creature From the Cold Cream Lagoon”, and found myself laughing along with everyone else.

That Pimp and his girls never did come back.

There were some other adventures which I’ll tell about another time.

Later Darklings

S.F. Giants and trashing the City~~~~

Well Darklings,

If any of you are baseball fans then you know that the San Francisco Giants won the world series---and I say 'good for them'.   But do the alleged fans have to trash the City?  The aftermath of them tearing a car apart (which is being alluded to a drug called "Bath Salts")  and burning a Muni Bus is to put it bluntly---Stupid!!

I guess for the criminal element any excuse to cause mayhem and destruction. 

While I was watching this activity on the news I was wondering why couldn't the police and fire department get a helicopter to do a massive water pick up and drop all that water on them, it would put out the bonfires and get everyone very, very wet and chilled. 

Nothing like calming people down with a serious dose of very cold sea water.  

Alright Darklings, I'm being mean, but I really like that thought.  And yes it's mean but better than willful destruction.

And it did make it harder for me to get to work on Monday, but fortunately BART was not too seriously affected,  I had to forgo using the Ferry to get to work early...Oh well.

I've been following the "Frankenstorm" on the East Coast and have been in touch with friends there, they are safe, but some damage to their home.   I was worried for my sister who is back East for her job, but she called me and said she's fine, and found the power of the storm thrilling and frightening at the same time.

Well I can understand that we both loved Thunderstorms and would sit out on the back porch to watch for lighting, rare here in our area but not uncommon.  I remember one evening I had to work late and there was a thunderstorm but no rain in our area,  I looked up and was amazed at how the lighting would arc back up into the clouds and how it illuminated the clouds,  so beautiful in its frightening way.

I continuously love flash drives and while I have a short morning break, I'm going to post my next blog.  I've been here at work since 6 a.m. so I can get home early,  I'm taking tomorrow and the next day off but I'll have to put in a long day on Friday and Saturday---Oh well, when one wants fun, one has to pay for it.

Later Darklings

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Returned from the Ghost Confrence~~~

Oh Darklings,

I and Doyle had so much fun at the Conference at Columbia State Park, the weather was beautiful, the speakers were interesting.  Our stay was very comfortable, food was good.  Christopher Allen Poe the great-great Grand nephew of Edgar Allen Poe is a very interesting person and was the dinner guest speaker.

The investigations very fascinating,  I hope I've captured some EVP.   Doyle and I made new friends there, although I'm not big on UFO's or Bigfoot but as they say there are a lot of strange things out there.

And such a perfect way to extend the Halloween season,  as we understand it they are planning to do it again at the same location next year, so I hope all goes well and we can attend again.

We stayed around until a little after noon grabbing a final bite to eat in Sonora before heading home, in many way's I hated leaving the area, but Doyle said we can always plan on taking trips back there,  especially again next October.

Belladonna was a good little girl in her carry all---but we had to keep her crated in our room while we were on the night investigations.   I did ask the managers the next day if there had been any complaints about any sounds coming from her but there wasn't---she was as good as gold.  But glad to be home in familiar surroundings.

Doyle said for us to not bother to make dinner at home, he's going to order our stand by---take out Chinese. 

I've found that several of you have asked for more in depth questions about "What is Goth?"  although I've done a page on that it seems I may need to write a 'part 2' on this question.   Which is very hard as being Goth is hard to define, a Goth just doesn't want to be dissected and analyzed, a Goth simply is...which makes it harder to define.

Doing a follow up will take some time Darklings but I can tell you this, being Goth is an outlook, a way of looking at the world and it encompasses a huge stratum of people who feel that they are on the outside of ordinary conventionality.   But they can see the beauty in darkness and in the extraordinary---I guess I'll have to go at it from a more historical point of view,  because it really can't be pinned down to one point.

So I guess I'll have to do another page on it----please be on the watch for it.

Now Darklings, I must go and take a nap, after all Ghost Hunting can take it out of a person.

Later Darklings

Friday, October 26, 2012

Jury Duty avoided---and traveling again~~~

Well Darklings I’ve escaped from an unbearable situation----JURY DUTY.

Do not mistake my relief about this as a desire to never serve on a Jury; I feel that it is everyone’s duty to endure this interruption in one’s life.

But frankly it could not have come at a worse time, and I won’t go into details.  And it make it worse it was going to be a civil case of someone being rear-ended by a car and claiming psychological pain and suffering.

How can one measure something that is so subjective?? 

I was brought up to “Hope for the Best, Expect the worst and Deal with what comes.”

If the injury is physical, which can be seen in an X-Ray or MRI then I’d feel better about it.  Soft tissue injury of course is something hard to determine, but to say that the trauma about being rear-ended has caused emotional trauma to one’s psyche----Please Darklings, give me a break!!!

I have been rear-ended at least twice, not happy about it, but with the exchange of insurance information at least satisfied.  Another time I was rear-ended and the person who hit me was not the owner, and gave false information.  But I made sure I wrote down the license plate number and tracked down the owner who had allowed his friend to drive the car.  To Small Claims court I took them to and I won.

But did I suffer emotional psychic trauma???  No, I was more mad as Hell than anything.

And I told them that---well of course I was excused, they didn’t want someone with that sort of idea in their head, which I was happy about, because the traffic on the freeway to get to the court house  and home was horrible both days and I knew was going to get worse.  Why it has to be at a court house that’s nearly 20 miles away I’ll never know, I called and asked if I could be assigned to a court house that was closer, I knew of two of them, “Sorry” they say “No change of assignments”.   How RUDE!!!

Now if this was a criminal case, it would have been more interesting, but still being forced to travel to a court house that’s 20 miles away and only being paid .34 cents per mile one way does not match the true cost of gasoline usage.  Of course if I had been picked, I would have figured out a way to get there without using my car, and see if I could “car pool” it home.

Alright My Darklings, my rant is over---but still a Criminal Case would have been far more interesting, but emotionally demanding.

But now I’m free for another year.

Halloween is only 5 days away!!!  And they are predicting Rain!!!  Pooh!!!  I hope not!

Anyway Doyle is putting our luggage and Belladonna’s things into his car (he’s driving), Belladonna is dressed in her doggie sweater and we will be leaving in a few minutes to go to the paranormal conference at Columbia State Park, no special expectations, but it should be interesting and beautiful this time of year.

And for now until Thanksgiving nothing special will be happening, I think, but you never know what might “pop-up”. 

Later Darklings

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Chilly weather is coming~~~

Oh Darklings,

There is a serious winter chill in the air today,  I had to get out my heavier sweater and get my heavier coat out for tomorrow.

Doyle and I made it back to the Library Booksale and we still found some wonderful titles, I even found the latest biography of Lizzie Borden---she of the little jingle "Lizzie Borden took an ax, gave her Mother 40 whacks and when she saw what she had done she gave her Father 41".

Well the number of whacks of an ax could be disputed but the fact that a murder did occur in board daylight while people were around is one of those Gothic mysteries that I just had to add to my Library.

Doyle was having fun looking for James Patterson and found several titles he had not read, so well worth going back.

Of course we had to do the mundane things like grocery shopping, and I found several new tombstones to add to my front display.

While at the store I came across a wine called "Chocolat Rouge" or wine with a chocolate flavor, the price wasn't bad, so I bought a bottle.  Doyle is skeptical about it so we decided that it is a dessert wine,  I had a chance this evening to read a couple of reviews and they seem fairly positive, but our tasting it will tell us but most likely not until later.

I have a policy of never drinking wine on Sunday evenings, because I feel I need a clear head, now during the week a small amount early in the evening is fine, because I can plan on when I'm going to drink it but never on Sunday.

With the chilly weather after we returned from the sale and shopping I had to put on my grubbies and vacuumed out the heater vents with Doyles' help, and put on the filters for the central heating system, I was glad I had them tested a few weeks ago and all are working fine, and venting properly.  Now I'm exhausted but Doyle is taking pity on me and has gone for Chinese, so I'm relaxing a bit and then I'll hop into the shower to get the dust off of me.

Well Elder/Elderly Goths can't look glamorous all the time Darklings.

But as I put that Lizzie Borden book on my Library shelf I was thinking about other books that would cover such topics to add to my library,  it would make perfect sense for an Elder/Elderly Goth to have something like that as part of their cabinet of curiosities.  Oh I cannot think straight this evening, I must be tired.

Later Darklings

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Book finds, more Nail Polish and keeping Belladonna warm~~~

Hello Darklings

So far I have been having fun this weekend! 

One of our local Library’s is having a book sale and a friend of mine who works there was able to get me two passes for their Preview opening.

Of course anyone who is into reading knows you have to go on Preview Night to grab “The Good Stuff” and I and my friends were no slouches.

Of course I’m a serious book buyer at these sales, I take one of those “old ladies” shopping carts that I have with a cloth liner, and right now I’m have so much fun having purchased black material with skull’s imprinted on it and sewed up the liner for my basket, it does prevent small things from slipping out, like one’s pet yorkie, (well that’s what one of my friend’s does.)

Of course such a shopping cart is very handy at flea markets as well.

And talk about luck, fantastic luck, I was able to find the hardcopy bound editions of a number of Anne Rice’s books from “Interview with a Vampire” and the two that followed, “Pandora”, “the Vampire Armand”, “Blood and Gold”, and a number of others, including “Blood Canticle”, as well as a 1940’s edition of the Catholic Douay Bible, still beautifully bound.  The only title missing from my collection is Rice’s “The Mummy”.

I also found several collections of vampire stories (mostly the classic one’s including “Good Lady Ducane”) and Ghost Stories. 

I also hit their audio-visual selection and found a wonderful selection of classic music cd’s in practically brand new condition, and several DVD’s of horror films I have not seen in ages.   My senses were tingling at my treasured finds.

My friends also struck it rich in their hunts, Doyle sadly could not come with us, his job precluded his attending, but he and I are going to the clearance sale, we may find some gleanings to add to our respective libraries.  One just never knows what one will find.

The only problem with going on a preview night is how everyone elbows everyone else, well I’ve learned to “elbow” with the best of them, my Mother didn’t take me to clothing clearance sales when I was little for nothing, I learned how to do body blocking and pretend to be so totally unaware, looking like the sweet little angelic 7 year old I pretended to be at the older women, while Mother swooped in and made a “killing.”  

Wrestling Tag Teams and Roller Derby had nothing on Mother and Me, we checked, blocked and tagged with the best of them;  Mrs. Miller sometimes came along as relief, she could be deadly with a well placed positioning of her cane and smiling sweetly as a helpless little old lady.

As a matter of fact Mrs. Miller was the one who helped me get my first apartment in her Apartment complex and Mother was relieved that there was someone who would “watch over” me.  Although I laugh at the thought of some of the scrapes Mrs. Miller and I would get into.  I miss them, Mother and Mrs. Miller, Dad and Granny and others who helped develop my outlook on life.

The weather is turning cool to cold, clouds and possible rain is coming, I am looking forward to it.  Although it may mean I can’t take Belladonna on her walks as often, but perhaps a little rain coat and hat for her might do, that is if she is inclined to do her walks in the rain.  Considering how I found her I hope that experience has not scared her, but we shall see.

I decided to improve things for Belladonna for the coming winter, I know that her feet get very cold on some of our walks, so I looked for a heating pad that I can put under her doggie bed to warm it up when we return from our evenings walks, and during our searches I just had to go into the cosmetic area at our local drug store and found a bit of a treasure.

Some times Revlon nail polish will surprise a person with something un-expected or not very well advertised, in my case it was a find.   I came across the last bottle of what was their Halloween collection of colors called “Sweetly Sinister”, the remain color was this one was called “Haunted Heart”, a lovely shimmery, sparkly (I know Darklings “sparkly”) orangey coral, in some lights it is intensely orange, in others an intense coral without out much pink, it is a perfect color for Halloween or for the Summer and goes well with my Revlon lipstick “Orange Flip”.  This color is in the “Top Speed” fast drying collection, the other colors were “Spooky Skull” (a sheer shimmer white), “Wicked Star” a green shimmer and “Black Magic” a black Cream. 

Check out the web site “Frazzle and Aniploish” at for a review and Jen of  especially for “Haunted Heart”.

Another way to decorate your nails, is to first put down a clear base coat and then put a layer or two of an orange nail polish over the complete nail, let it dry completely then follow with two coats of black on top, have it cover the bed part of the nails but leave the projected part or nail tips still in orange, simple and uncomplicated for Halloween.

But I have seen using “Black Magic” to put on Pumpkin faces and with a touch of “Wicked Star” as the pumpkin stem, so Darklings you have a lot of choices. 

Myself I’m going to keep it simple and alternate with orange and black, using a clear bottom coat to not have the dark color seep into the pores of my nails (so hard to get out).

Of course Doyle has asked me why do I have so many colors of nail polish and I told him even my nails need a color wardrobe---he looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and said “O.K.”

Now it will take time to do it right Darklings, so I suggest having an entire evening to do this.   Perhaps have a “man slave”  ;-) to feed you  and change the T.V. channels while your nails dry.   Of course I’m joking on the “man slave” part  (or am I?  Hmmmm Doyle where are you???).

Later Darklings

Friday, October 19, 2012

Nguyen Chi Thien~~~RIP

Dear Darklings,

I was sad to read about the death of Vietnamese poet Nguyen Chi Thien.

He died on October 2, 2012 at age 73.

His poems that were translated into the book “Flowers From Hell”, I found so very inspiring, that through all his torment he could write poetry and managed before he was arrested by the Communists, to get them out of the country.

Some of his poetry as translated into English inspired me to write better, in some of his poems I felt as if I were walking down those same streets he talks about, the prison camps he is incarcerated in.

The one about his Mother’s tears, I felt was one for all Mothers who see their children suffer unjustly.

Some of his poems can be found on and is worth reading, along with his biography.

If you can Darklings, see if you can get the bi-lingual translation of his poems.

Later Darklings

Sparkly Vampires need not apply~~~~~


I’ve been busy catching up on my writing, and I’ve been pondering this thought about the “Twilight” series.

I have read the “Twilight” Series books (I made it as part of my ‘required reading’), and I can understand why young pre-teen and teenage Baby Bats and even their mothers in some cases, can be attracted to the characters as presented in these books.

Especially Baby Bat Girls---- that being said I understand why Stephanie Meyer is so clever. She certainly understands what makes a young teen age girl’s, and even a homosexual young man’s, heart all drippy with sex hormones which is perhaps the only reason why the saga has such a strong following. Without sexy immortal men what do you have? Nothing but teenage angst and how boring teenage angst is.

But as literature, serious literature it is nothing, just barely a step up from the old “Penny Dreadful’s” that Victorian Parlor maids read and shared amongst themselves as titillating reading.

My first encounter with vampires, at least fictionally, was when I read “Dracula”, far more moody, convoluted and terrifying. And it is terrifying, frightening and confusing to come face to face with one’s own awakening maturing sexuality.

But I, like Anne Rice, many years ago, was also visually affected when I saw “Dracula’s Daughter” with Gloria Holden, it was a sequel to the original Dracula. The sequel was about this beautiful daughter of Dracula who was an artist in London, and she felt drinking blood was a curse. That film mesmerized me with its beautiful, sensitive and mildly seductive scenes; even when the Countess Zaleska was dealing with a bumbling English Bobby it was sensitive.

It made the point to me what vampires were--- elegant, tragic, sensitive people but because of their being different they were public outcasts and they suffered the agony of this fact, this echoed within me, for I was the same way, I was not into the “bobby-sock” life of the teenager, I questioned things that were beyond the limited interests of the upper grade school and high school levels. In my own mildly “Wednesday Addams” way, I was different, not stupid or dumb but different and not into the teenage stuff of that time, I mean Elvis Presley and the Beatles were talented and enjoyable to listen and dance to but I was not into the adoration they generated, Christopher Lee was more my style.

I was becoming nihilistic towards things that interested the “bobby-socker” as to being meaningless, the only thing that saved me completely from nihilism was my parents and grandparents; they showed me that there were certain important things that we need to have an interest in to achieve a livelihood and that even if I felt that life was meaningless there was and is meaning within it, which at the time we cannot see, we needed to look beyond the minutiae, cease to focus on that and look at a much bigger picture and even if I did develop an atheistic outlook on life, there still was meaning.

And that is what irritates me about the comedy “Seinfeld” it focuses on minutiae without focusing on the real issues of life---if that is what makes a comedy then we as a species are in serious trouble.

Fortunately thanks to my family’s intervention, understanding and love, I never did develop an atheistic outlook, for with their help, they showed me that God Laughs with a peculiar sense of humor and the Devil takes his own. With my family’s help I have seen a much bigger picture and learned to enjoy my being an “outcast” especially if I have skills that the “muggles” need, and plead with me to apply.

But sparkly vampires????? Please Darklings…..

“Twilight” is a candy apple walk in the park compared to “Dracula” where without personal strength or protections you could be “devoured” by this fiend, but it also showed the repressed sexuality that Victorians were dealing with, as well as being subjugated to another’s will, against one’s own will.

These vampires that I grew up with were Darkness, dark evil darkness of the kind you do not want to be a part of.

Now a days we would call them abusers, trapping you in a life of sex slavery, drugs and degradation. Even Christopher Lee’s portrayal of Dracula was a warning to young women everywhere, and yes, Darklings, I’ve outgrown that presentation although I still admire Mr. Lee as an actor.

That is why I feel that the vampire’s in the “Twilight” series and others of that ilk are “lies”. It makes them into romantic “fairies” instead of the dangerous creatures they are, young people forget that vampires “feed” on you.

Physically, emotionally, psychologically and psychically.

Perhaps that is the advantage of being an Elder/Elderly Goth, we can say “Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt many times over”.

In time as Baby Bats mature (at least we hope they do mature) they will understand these things, I can understand the romanticism about vampires, one wants something elegant, romantic, even knowledgeable in this 21st century sterile, computerized, Ipod, Ipad world.

I can understand why young girls get tired and turned off on the “gangsta” look with the baggy jeans hanging down to the guys’ knees, with the young male holding up the front of those oversize jeans with one hand on the crotch area as if they have the clap and need to scratch it all the time in perpetual masturbation, and the guys overblown male macho attitude that “you’re my possession, Bi%$#!”

Young Baby Bats are not anyone’s possession, but they are their parents children, and as your parents child, those are the ones you should ask advise from, for if they are wise and loving, they will understand, but be careful of those who allegedly profess their mis-guided “love” for you, especially if their “love” is more like being possessive.

For anyone to read even the literature of “Twilight” tells me that young Baby Bats want something better than what is being offered to them, but you have to work for it, Darklings and don’t settle for 3rd or 4th best.

But “sparkly”??? Please Darklings, no Tinker Belle fairy dust.

To all you Baby Bats, admit that what you want is style, elegance, consideration of your own feelings (very important), compassion, romance, understanding and knowledge to learn from.

Baby Bats want someone that is knowledgeable, is also willing to get out into the real world, be willing to earn a living and make something of themselves, not a couch potato, beer drinking, ex-jock, but also will not manipulate you, that is very important.

But never settle for someone just because you think you can’t get anything better, you can my Darkling Baby Bats you can, but you have to work on yourself, your education, your style and never settle for anything less.

Ignore those persons that think that you are acting like you’re “Too Good” or being a “Stuck Up Bi%#$”. Any one who is trying to improve themselves and their life is not being that way and you, my Baby Bats are not. It is because these others, they don’t even want to try to improve themselves, but you do and they cannot stand that, they would prefer to drag you down to their level, and any Goth worth his or her salt or black nail polish would never, ever do that.

A long time ago I personally set those standards for myself, and along the way I did make some mistakes, fortunately nothing that I could not extricate myself from, because for me the first “hint” of surrendering my personal self, subjugating my goals and ideals to another’s instead of them being a partner or even attempting to understand my work, was enough for me to say “thanks, but no thanks, there’s the door, don’t let it hit your ass on the way out”.

I remember the first time I was seriously developing feelings for one young man, and he intimated that he was interested in a permanent relationship leading to marriage, I thought at that time my happiness would be nearly complete, remember my Darklings I was young at the time, just into my mid-twenties (many life times ago).

But then one evening over dinner at a very nice restaurant, things changed and changed very quickly and drastically the moment he referred to my work as being an “over-glorified file clerk”.

I looked at him, knowing exactly the type of work I was doing was nothing of that sort, so I asked him quiet gently what gave him that opinion of my job and work.

I listened very carefully to what he said, belittling me, belittling the job that I had to do, him saying in a disparaging way, that the pains it took me to do it well and correctly was nothing, and that it didn’t matter to the care and well-being of other people, nor to bring peace and answers to relatives.

He completely ignored me or how quiet I became as he continued talking in his “superior manner”; he was totally wrapped up in proving how superior he was and how inferior I was. That was a dangerous mistake for him to make. For in that instance the minute he started denigrating my work, my life, my choices, and more importantly even my family, he was, in my mind, completely struck off of my list of worth-while male suitors.

Taking care to not reveal my inner anger as it seethed and boiled, (trust me Darklings, it took a lot of strength of will to not want to “slam dunk” that piece of garbage into the nearest dumpster or toss hot coffee into his face), he continued on telling me about the plans he had for me to become a “nice little wifey” and raising 2 plus children, subjugating my wishes and thoughts and molding them to “his” ideals.

I smiled at him and murmured “How interesting” as I listened to him going on and on about “His plans” and “His goals” and “His ideas of marriage” and how he planned on seeing me dress in a way he “approved of” and what I was to do and cutting my work time to hourly and then eventually my giving up working to raise “HIS” children.

He was completely unaware that the more he talked the more I became silent, saying nothing to him, he was completely caught up in his monologue of his plans for “us”.

Eventually he saw me home after I suffered though a very tedious and upsetting evening, which he thought in his mind, was going just perfectly. While I was suffering through his selfish, self-centered snobbish soliloquy, I planned on what I was going to do to let him know My displeasure.

He walked me to the front door of my apartment and as I unlocked and opened the door (I was living in court type apartment complex) he asked if I was going to invite him in as the night was warm, and the water in the courtyard fountain was splashing gaily, I stopped before I entered and looked directly at him and suddenly with a snarl on my lips said “Never more!”

I quickly went in, closed and locked the door. When he recovered from his initial shock from my sudden explosion of anger, he proceed to bang on my front door for a good long while calling my name, pleading with me to open the door so we could talk and “work things out” as the neighbors leaned out their windows telling him to shut up before someone called the police.

While he was banging and yelling at my door, I wrote out a note describing his faults, his selfishness, and why I was breaking up with him, I then dressed in a black filmy nightgown and robe.

He was very persistent, completely intent on not giving up, and continued for a long time assaulting my front door despite the threats from my neighbors to call the police, I was upstairs by this time and from my upper bedroom window that was over the front door I saw that the police had arrived. How perfect I thought.

As the police officers talked to him to try and find out why he was having a case of “Love Labors Lost” I opened my window and sweetly called out to the police officers “Hello Officers” I said, catching their rapt attention.

They all looked up at me in my romantic and sexy filmy black night gown and robe, and their mouths hung open at seeing me dressed so, I could tell they did admire my assets, as a matter of fact old Mr. Miller from next door, could see me quiet well and gave a “wolf whistle,” Mr. Miller might have been old, very old but he wasn’t dead yet.

I apologized to them about having to come out to deal with my rejected suitor at such a late hour and appreciated their assistance, as my neighbors also leaned out their windows enjoying the spectacle and watching how things were playing out,

Then I called out to my erstwhile suitor and with two pennies in the envelope to weigh it down I tossed the note to him and said again quiet loudly “Never More!” closed the window, closed my drapes, turned off my bedroom lights and went to bed with a smile on my lips, a contented sigh and a slight chuckle emanating from my throat as I heard the police officers saying to him “Let it go Buddy, she told you to leave. Are we going have to march you down to the station?” as he was sputtering “She can’t do that to me! I have plans for us!” but I heard Mrs. Byrd, my other neighbor, call out to him, “Well Sonny she certainly didn’t have any plans for you!” and old Mr. Miller laughing and saying “Good for her!” as peace returned to our small apartment complex.

For weeks he sent me flowers, candy, and small gifts. I returned the gifts, as that was only right, I sent the flowers to my neighbors, to hospitals and convalescent homes and took the candy to work to share among my co-workers or gave them to my neighbors as peace offerings. Especially to Mrs. Miller, who laughed when she found out the reason for Mr. Miller’s verbally descriptive admiration for my form.

Several of my co-workers said they would be sorry when the candy would stop arriving.

He contacted my friends and family pleading his case, in the hopes that they would persuade me to “see reason” but I had told them why I refused to see him again, they understood my side of it and relayed the information back to him that I refused to be in touch with him ever again.

Eventually he sent me a letter saying I didn’t understand him and again saying he could make a good living for both of us that we’d be happy with. I made a copy of that letter that I cut into sections and with each of his arguments I had written rebuttals underneath for each section and told him that he did not understand or appreciate a strong independent woman who has her own goals and ideas in mind nor did he show any willingness to compromise or work in harmony.

A person like that, I told him, is only an Egotist, full of his own self-importance and over-inflated sense of entitlement which he did not deserve nor earn.

I saw him some 18 years later, he had grown fat, hair had thinned, his wife meek and mild, his children were selfish money grubbing teen age brats, and altogether neither of them happy, the shocked look on his face when we ran into each other was enough of a reward, as he remarked that I had not changed a bit, and I saw in his face a wish that he had not “blown his chances”.

There have been other men, and although nice enough, they had faults and still had that attitude that women were women to ‘wait’ on men. Although not to the degree that my erstwhile suitor had, and all were let down gently.

It’s been years my Darklings, I am my own woman, and Doyle is a perfect companion, he knows I need my space but I also enjoy his companionship, we see things the same, but in some areas we have differences, small but there to make things interesting. As the song goes “I’m a little bit country, he’s a little bit rock and roll.”

But I still prefer my heroines to be strong and take charge, not Bella’s weak willingness to become Edwards’ helpmate. Bella’s overriding passivity is in distinct contrast to other fairytales for teen girls that have been popular in recent decades—in which the heroine’s encounters with magic open up much wider fields of possibilities.

If I had read the “Twilight” series as a young girl I would have said “Yuck!” yes Darklings, “Yuck!” and I would have seen it for the fairy tale it really is, my Mother told me that fairy tales are just that, “fairy tales”, in real life there is no “happily ever after” but with the right person there can be a measure of happiness and contentment but to be prepared for life’s ups and downs.

She directed my interest to the Brother’s Grimm and their fairy tales told in all its grim reality. We’d read them and I’d ask her why did the step sisters do this or why did Blue Beard do that and she’d tell me why. For those fairy tales were tales of survival and code of conduct and how to be pro-active.

So my Darklings, sparkly vampires need not apply.

As a matter of fact the Brother’s Grimm stories were more to my Goth style and perceptions of society.

I mean what a delicious name----Grimm.

Later Darklings

Do you talk to the Dead?? and Smithsonian Vampires~~~

Hello again Darklings,

I’m finally catching up on things, so much at work to clear away, but finally done.

Doyle and I had so much fun this last weekend, not only were they offering a “Ghost Walk” but there was also a Harvest Fair Festival going on as well, with a unique way of “kicking it off” by dropping pumpkins from the top of the Ghost Towns’ Tallest Building.

The “Ghost Walk” was a perfect precursor to the next event in two weeks, a Paranormal Ghost Hunting convention at Columbia State Park, just perfect timing and Doyle has already made arrangements for us to attend---I am so looking forward to it.

The “Ghost Walk’ was very entertaining, the “actor’s” put a lot of thought into the various stories of the different residents in the Cemetery, but it helps to have good walking shoes and to dress warmly, although the day was mild, the nights do get very coolish.

The Harvest Festival was complete fun, food, and frolic, there were several items I simply could not resist, as well as a painting that I though would be perfect for the entrance Hall in my home. And if you are Elder Goth “lite” it is a perfect event to attend to find all those little things that can “tweak” your little gothic castle.

What I liked is for a period of time you felt that you are taken back in time, I felt that I would have been very comfortable wearing Victorian clothing---although tight corseting would have not been on my list of things to wear, but there was something about the atmosphere of the area that felt so relaxing. I’m going to have to plan to come here from time to time just to get away from the business of the City, sort of a mental retreat, although it is about 2 ½ hours from the Bay Area, but still such a wonderful cool Fall feeling.

Doyle said we should plan to come here again next year, I hope so, other wise I’ll come by myself. It seems that starting in September kicks off all these wonderful Harvest/Halloween/Holiday treats, and I certain enjoy them with relish. I am reminded of some things that I use to do with my family, which I’ll talk about at a later time.

There are places to stay both in Columbia and within a short walking distance from the State Park as well as lovely places to stay in Jamestown and Sonora especially along Highway 108 the gateway to Yosemite; I’ve saved the listings for the next event for future reference. Not all take pets, so that will be a serious consideration.

I enjoy going to cemeteries and columbarium’s, the older the better, they have so much to “say”, yes Darklings, “to say.”

When Doyle and I were on our Ghost Walk at Columbia State Park, we enjoyed all the stories and “thrills” that were delivered by those hard working docents dressed up as the spirits of those deceased persons.

But the next day that we were going to leave, we stopped again at the Cemetery in Columbia and walked in the daylight among the graves to see them a little better.

There was one that arrested me, it gave the name and date of a man who died, at a relatively young age, but the cause of his death was simple and blunt, his epitaph read “Fell Down A Mine Shaft”, this caused us to stop and surmise and “talk” to the dead.

How and why, Dear Sir, did it come to be that you fell down a mine shaft?

An accident? Foolishness? Being unaware? Unsafe conditions? Did someone push you?

It seems that in our “talking” to him we attracted 2 other couples and they joined in on the “conversation” and for nearly an hour we spent time with this unfortunate person in “discussing” the predicament that led to his untimely end.

Granted the person in question was not with us in real time, his bones were interred 6 feet under us, but for some reason we felt that his spirit enjoyed our visit with him.

Which led our conversation as to what we would want on our tombstones, usually it was something benign “beloved something or other” or in the case of one of the gentlemen who said “Gone Fishing”.

Doyle asked me what I wanted on mine and I said “I’ll-Be-Back” Doyle thought this over for a few seconds and replied “Darling, you are one sick puppy.” I smiled in reply.

Indeed there are tombstones with unusual comments; two of the most famous is “I told ya I was sick” which does indeed exist and this other one “Here lies Lester Moore, 4 shots from a 44, no less, no more” Lester Moore was a Wells Fargo agent who was killed during a robbery, and some wag decided to emblaze how Mr. Moore died.

Doyle thought that perhaps as part of our travels we should take in historical cemeteries, which I could only agree, the Columbarium in San Francisco is one that I’d like to visit again and in Oakland the Chapel of the Chimes, Mountain View Cemetery, and St. Mary’s, they go back to when the city was founded, which should make for interesting “reading”.

So Darklings, when you go to a cemetery go “armed” with information as to all the meanings behind the symbols on those monuments, even the littlest engraved thing can speak a volume of meanings, sometimes if the grave has a metal fencing around it the designs on the fencing also has meaning.

There is a gravesite society called The Graveyard Rabbit

If you are interested in the symbolism on Gravestones these are a few web sites to check out:

Of course if you either Google or Bing in the word Taphophile you will come across a number of websites that will give you information on grave symbols.

Now most symbols apply mostly to American or English Grave sites, but one can find much of the same thing for any European Cemetery, although there will be variances for each local culture, which if you become a Cemetery/Graveyard enthusiast you can add to your personal encyclopedia of gravesite symbols, who knows it may make you a Taphophile.

Frankly I think being a Taphophile is a wonderful hobby for an Elder/Elderly Goth or even just perfect for the Darkly inclined.

From there comes understanding burial customs, funerals styles, how to mourn, the history and symbolism of mourning which is a little different from Cemetery symbols.

If you go back on my blog to “My First funeral” Mar. 31, 2010 you will come across how a funeral was held in the 1950’s.

But there were things done that I didn’t mention in that post. Which I will do in another post.

Now about Smithsonian Vampires~~~

Darklings if you can get a copy of the October 2012 issue of Smithsonian magazine, they have a whole article about American vampires---yes Darklings, American vampires---it all started in 1990 in Griswold, Connecticut when some children playing near a hillside gravel mine found some graves and the story takes off from there.

I’m not going to spoil the information in the story so I suggest Darklings that you buy this copy of Smithsonian and add it to your collection of dark things, I know I am.

In the mean time I’m going to ask Doyle why he was trying to pulverize with a hammer, a couple of very old broken red bricks that he got from a demolition site the other evening. As a matter of fact he has about a half dozen of these old bricks pieces that were not salvaged for re-use and were tossed aside and is keeping them in an old bucket; knowing Doyle he has a perfectly good reason that is not readily apparent. But I’ll give him time, eventually he’ll tell me, no matter how strange his reasoning is.

Later Darklings

I'm back and Meteors~~~~

Hello Darklings,

I have returned from my weekend trip and feeling much, much better, Thank you Sage for your concern, and yes Wor Won Ton soup has a wonderful therapeutic effect----that and Hot Tea with honey and lemon and a stiff shot of Jack Daniels---Doyle’s idea.

I want to ask any of you who live in the S.F. Bay Area---Did you see the meteor the other night and hear the sonic boom??!!

I mean Darklings, how wonderfully frightening, exciting and just out-of-this-world!!!!

I and a couple of my friends had a chance to see it ---simply spectacular!!!!! And that is an inadequate word to describe it.

I’m including an article from our San Francisco Chronicle here ----“Start Praying” said one young man----I’m laughing at the thought.


Thursday Oct 18, 2012 2:14 PM PT

A streak, a boom, and now meteor debris?

by Ellen Huet

Updated 1:17 p.m., Thursday, October 18, 2012

(10-18) 13:15 PDT MARTINEZ -- A bright flash across the sky and a shaking boom awed Bay Area onlookers Wednesday evening, and one scientist says souvenirs of the phenomenon might be strewn in the hills around Martinez.

A meteor, perhaps the size of a small car when it hit the Earth's atmosphere, put on a spectacular lightshow at 7:45 p.m. that was visible throughout the Bay Area and elsewhere in Northern and Central California.

The accompanying noise was the meteor's sonic boom as it traveled faster than the speed of sound, said Jonathan Braidman, an astronomy instructor at Oakland's Chabot Space and Science Center.

"These meteors travel 25,000 miles per hour or more," Braidman said. "When they hit the atmosphere they slow down considerably and break up into tiny, glittering fragments."

And those meteorite fragments, Braidman said, could well be scattered throughout the East Bay hills near Martinez, ready to be picked up by anyone willing to put in the effort to track them down.

It won't be easy. Braidman said the pieces could be anywhere over hundreds of square miles, with the Martinez hills estimate based mostly on eyewitness accounts and a northward trajectory of the meteor.

Meteors burn through the Earth's atmosphere "all the time," Braidman said. But most of them shine in obscurity, streaking over the ocean or land where no one lives.

"For it to flash across a populated area like the Bay Area, it's pretty rare," he said. "What's special now is we have so many people collecting data, taking pictures, that it's possible to see it streaking over the sky and maybe find out where it landed. Before, we were never able to do that."

Some people who spotted the meteor had no idea what they were looking at, but they knew it was something unusual.

"It was a big, huge fireball," said Tyler Clark, 19, who spotted it near his home in Manteca. "It was huge - bigger than the moon. All I saw was tons of flames coming off of it, and the next thing I knew, it vanished."

Clark said the meteor was visible for several seconds and burned mostly white, with red and yellow flame-like tinges.

"I was scared, not gonna lie - I thought it hit us," he said. "I was waiting for something to happen. I told my friends, 'Better start praying.' "

Clark can rest easy. Meteorite fragments that reach land are usually small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, Braidman said.

Their value depends on whether they're made of metal or of a stonier material.

Anyone who finds something they think might be part of a meteorite can bring it to the Chabot center or to one of a number of universities to be tested.

Braidman said the meteor was unrelated to the upcoming Orionid meteor shower, which will peak this weekend as the Earth passes through the tail of Halley's comet.

The shooting stars that people spot during meteor showers are much smaller pieces of comet-tail dust burning up in the atmosphere, not large meteors like this one, Braidman said.

# # # # # # # # # # #

Can you imagine Darklings having as a piece of jewelry a bit of meteor hanging around your neck, to remind you of how infinite and finite life can be??? I know I would like a piece.

So something else to add to my List of ‘things to do’ 1st. Go to a Library book sale this weekend and 2nd watch the Orionid meteor shower.

Later Darklings.

Pumpkin Spice Latte and Perfection~~~

Oh Darklings,

I do love Flash Drives to write down and save my thoughts so I can upload them at a later time.

And I’ve been here at work since 6:30 a.m. so I can leave early today, I’m taking a break to upload a number of my thoughts and sip my wonderfully perfect Fall cup of coffee.

Sometimes something comes along and you see it, read it or taste it and you know there is something about it that’s so right.


I was taking a small break yesterday I happened to flip a magazine over and saw a print ad for Patron Tequila, specifically for Patron XO Café Tequila and the ad said:

“Perfection has a Darker Side”---I thought what a perfect sentiment for an Elder/Elderly Goth.


Right now I don’t care if it’s Starbucks and I know how some people feel about Starbucks

BUT----It’s Pumpkin Spice Latte!!!!

Now I KNOW Fall is here, I’ve had my first Pumpkin Spice Latte for the season!!!
Oh so goooooood!!! And Simply Perfect.

Later Darklings

Friday, October 12, 2012

Going to a Ghost Walk~~~

Just a short post My Darklings,

Doyle and I are leaving in a few minutes with Belladonna in tow we are going to the historic Ghost Town of Columbia---they (the docents) are doing a Ghost Walk this weekend and we have made plans to attend.

Such a lovely way to help "kick off" the Halloween season.

We are hoping it won't rain this weekend but we are prepared for it---either way it will be a lovely, gothicly, drive there to the "Gold Rush Country" so many ghosts, so many old, old buildings with dark histories.

I'm already enjoying the idea.

Until a few days from now, take care my Darklings and have Gothic Fun.

Later, Darklings

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Flu Shots and other miseries~~~~

Oh Darklings

yesterday after Fleet Week I was just miserable, miserable, achy miserable.

My doctor being pro-active insisted that I get a series of tests and shots, the tests were nothing, bone density, more blood and urine.

But what was making me miserable is that last week and this week---this week especially, my doctor insisted that I have shots,---Flu of course, but she also wanted me to have the Shingles vaccine and later the Tdap (Diphtheria, whooping cough, tetanus).

I had the Shingles vaccine shoot last week, which made my arm a bit sore and bruisy but it passed after 3 days.

But the day before yesterday--- and yesterday I went in to have the Tdap and I wanted to have the flu shot next week, but the technician said that the Doctor didn’t want to waste any time or take a chance with my health.

So---POW!! First left shoulder, then right shoulder!!! I felt miserable Monday even had a headache which I could not shake, so I went home and slept it off. And I didn’t even get a lollypop---Pooh!!! I felt like pouting.

But Tuesday, TUESDAY both my shoulders were aching, it was painful to move them beyond doing just typing. And my joints were aching as well. The left shoulder especially. I’ve taken a pain pill for it but it didn’t seem to be working.

So I did what had to be done, but making dinner out of the question, Doyle was in the City and came by planning that we go home to my place together, I told him how I was feeling, since I wasn’t going to get off for 90 minutes he told me to wait until he got back and when he did he had a reusable tote bag containing Wor wonton soup and other delicacies from a good nearby Chinese take out. Easy to re-heat in the microwave he said.

And being the gallant Night Hawk that he is, he called a taxi that took us to the Ferry to the other side of the bay and from there another Taxi to my home, last night I was to be pampered---so much better than a Lollypop.

No glamour tonight he said and he bundled me into flannel pajama’s (they’re black with red trim) warm slippers (pink) and warm flannel blankets that are black with a white spider web pattern and curled up holding my mug of soup I drank it in my overstuffed chair in the warm, comfortable parlor with the red velvet patterned wall paper and the dark wood wainscoting, pictures of old family members looking down upon us without a thought to any impropriety of our situation.

Belladonna was curled up with me snuggled and warm, Doyle sitting at another chair with a wooden T.V. tray in front of him to hold his dinner and other wooden T.V. trays holding our dinner selections, him telling me about the progress of some cases without divulging any personal information about the clients, sounding like a radio mystery program, then he retrieved for me my laptop to post this to my blog.

Things were feeling so much better, in a few minutes I will have saved this to my flash drive and shut down the laptop and he will be Tivoing NCIS for us to watch later, for last night he read to me a short story or two of Sherlock Holmes---another gothic night hawk and I slowly became drowsy with the comfortable warmth that was spreading over me.

Addendum---Flash Drives and laptops are a plus~~~~

This morning I woke up to a gray and coolish morning, my right shoulder feeling better but the left still sore but this time the pain pill worked. Doyle had to stay on this side of the Bay today, so dropping off Belladonna at her sitter’s he whisked me in his car to the Ferry, to see me off. Now as the Ferry draws closer and closer to the city I type this on my laptop to down load the first chance I get.

Today will be much better, even though it is gray with a tentative promise of rain, which I welcome. I’ll be able to have everything taken care of before Friday as Doyle and I will go to the “Ghost Hunting” event in Columbia. I have no idea what the promise of the weekend will bring, but in any case I’m looking forward to it. One never knows what the next day will bring, and for any Elder/Elderly Goth the excitement of a new day makes life worth living.

Later Darklings

Fleet Week, Doyle and strange fun things

Well Darklings,

Here in my area we just had “Fleet Week”, this is where the Navy shows off all it’s Toys, but also to give an understand of what is involved in running a ship as well as historical interest.

The Blue Angels, that death defying Navy squadron shows aerial maneuvers where if any one of them was a millisecond off, would mean instant fiery death. And some people go bunging jumping, it’s nothing compared to what these fly boys do.

There were ships galore all around and people just in awe of what was demonstrated, and there were protestors as well, waving their banners---Sorry Darklings, I still am with the Theodore Roosevelt philosophy “Speak Softly but carry a DAMN BIG STICK”.

Of course any one is entitled to disagree with me and that is perfectly all right, but Darklings, I know how to shoot, only once did I ever have to use my Berretta, the Perp survived and is serving 20 to life.

Many years ago my Father insisted that I learn to shoot, and that one time, that very one time I was so glad I did learn. Otherwise Moi would not be posting this post.

Going to San Francisco in a car was out of the question; what with the America’s Cup practice races, Fleet Week, the Blue Grass event, and the Ball game, driving one’s own car would have been insane.

But I have a friend in the City that has the most wonderful view and we had ring side seats, enough to have our breaths taken away. And that was just Saturday.

Sunday I felt was important to relax and take care of things; I was restless and got up early, it’s easy to do grocery shopping early. Doyle had to go to the office to do some inquiries on a case which he is handing over to an operative out of state, so I just had to make a few purchases at our local Safeway grocery store.

I love shopping on a Sunday morning, hardly any crowds and I can dawdle a bit, but with Halloween coming up I had a pleasant surprise.

I saw two bottles of wine that had strange names, one was called “Stark Raving” and it was a Red, the other was called “Curious Beasts” also a red wine. But the price was cheap, $10 on one and $13 on the other. I called Doyle on my cell and told him what I found, he thought it was a “Hoot” and said that if it was really bad we could use it for cooking and save the bottles and pour a better vintage into them for Halloween.

It was passable but nothing great, but Darklings can you imagine the look on peoples faces when you ask “Would you like Stark Raving Red?” They’d think you’ve gone mad, or better yet, insane.

But there was other little treats, I found heavy duty plastic or melmac type plates with a vampire on it and the words “Just a nibble” I found it so exquisitely delicious, they are fine for dishwashers but not for microwaving, as well has heavy duty plastic glasses that say “Pick your Poison”. So perfect for Halloween.

Of course some people would say where do you have the space for all of that? I’m lucky in that my Great-Aunt’s house has what is called a Butler’s pantry---this is different from a “Food pantry”. Here all the serving pieces and better china and silverware is kept. But it also has storage for day to day dish wear as well as well as Seasonal things. So that is where it will be kept, but Doyle is suggesting that we may want to have it for daily common use, given our darkly inclined natures.

Some of you have asked me “Who is Doyle and how does he factor into your life?”

I met Doyle many, many years ago while I was in my 2nd year of college, I mentioned him but not by name in a much earlier post, where he met my Granny and learned from us what real evil and Satanists are, not that Granny or I were or are evil or even Satanists, but he, at the time was being a poser and Granny set him straight by meeting with a real Satanist (I know my family was and is a strange group of people).

This fortunate meeting set him on his course to become a police officer, where he eventually dealt with very strange cases dealing with drugs and homicide and bizarre things. I introduced him to his future wife and was Maid of Honor at their wedding, they were my friends for many years, having helped at times with emergency baby sitting duties and then helping through the trauma and grief of his wife’s final illness.

His children are grown and are involved in either police or forensic work and they have children of their own, and I am their unofficial “Auntie”.

Doyle does not live with me, he has his own apartment, several years after his wife’s death he was thinking of selling the family home but I suggested to him to consult with his children about this possible decision. End result is one of the children bought the house and many major family dinners and events are still being held there with the house bustling with the sound of children and young teen’s energy.

Doyle flits between my home and his apartment, depending if he needs either to serious concentrate on a case he’s working on or needs his space from time to time or when he wishes or wants to be around me if I so choose. He keeps several changes of clothing and some of his toiletries as needed are here.

But he is his own person as am I, however there have been times when we were so glad to have each other in our respective lives. One time at my old apartment some demented person had cut my phone lines, fortunately I had my cell phone, I called Doyle who advised I call the police, I could only surmise who would have done the deed but without any visual evidence it could not go any further, since my apartment was one of a half dozen in an old court, Doyle set up a surveillance camera that was carefully hidden but pointed at the phone lines, and we caught the person.

As I said he was demented, kept claiming that I was sending ultrasound waves to his apartment to scramble his brain, it was determined he was a danger to himself and others and was place in an institution for a period of time.

Fortunately I moved to my current home before he was recently released, the sad thing is his parents kept paying the rent on his studio apartment, so he had a place to go back to, and from what I’ve heard he’s targeted another person who has moved into my old place. I feel sorry for them.

Doyle helped me move and we keep tabs on each other. A sort of comfortable relationship, as one friend of ours has said I’m a little bit Goth and he’s a little bit Night Hawk.

Of course he can’t be with me all the time as he is now a private investigator, since he retired from the police department after 30 years, so I remain independent and very much my own person, which is what I prefer. But as my Father use to say, “its always nice to have someone watch your back.”

Later Darklings

Sunday, October 7, 2012

The Blue Hour ~~~~l'heure bleue----Evening

Dear Darklings,

Some people consider this time to refer to both morning and evening but for me it has always been evening---that special quiet time for contemplation before taking on the full cloak of night.

I do not have many moments to enjoy the blue hour these last few years, but if Doyle is going to cook dinner he chases me out to enjoy a moment to myself at every opportunity.

I find my thoughts drifting back years ago when the Blue Hour would signal a different set of events for me, where I had to take notice of my surroundings for self-preservation, back when I worked nights, how I would watch the night come stealing on, covering the imperfections of the cityscape and under either starlight or moonlight render it enchanting as a night fairy land or as sinister as a noir film, as my public transportation took me further and further away from the safety of my home and into the darkness, and bit by bit I would see the denizens of the night slowly emerge out of their personal caves.

Drunks clinging to their bag hidden bottles, laughing, crying or fighting over the last drop of liquid warmth that will bring about some sort of oblivion to their inner torment, hanging around a liquor store in the hopes someone will buy them a large can of beer or better yet, cheap gut-burning whisky.

The homeless ones dragging their pitiful possessions in captured shopping carts, some talking to invisible companions or demons, circling those same carts like old west wagons against the elements, trying to be invisible to the cops or something worse, some perhaps fortunate enough to have a real companion or two for protection against those who would seek to harm them out of a perversely evil sense of “fun”.

Druggies and the drug dealers furtively making deals, debating the quality of goods or the price, the dealers their hands on hidden guns or knives if the mark doesn’t come up with the money, their partners in crime on the watch for “5-O” (cops), being prepared to scatter if “5-O” is spotted, not realizing that “5-O” is undercover making the buy and preparing to do the sting. If they are lucky to not be arrested that night to furtively duck into an abandoned building sitting among the debris of old chairs and urine soaked mattresses to drift off into their drugged filled Nirvana of dreams they will never achieve.

Streetwalkers wearing shorts and skimpy tops that show too much of their dubious wares, walking on impossibly high platform shoes that painfully cramp their feet, their eyes darting here and there looking for a prospective John, the pimps in their “flash cars”, dressed in their “flash clothes” watching their “goods”, the Johns’ slowly driving by looking for a prospective but cheap “date”.

Cops appearing out of no-where in pairs to apprehend or lending assistance or to tell drunks, druggies, street walkers and their pimps to move on, seeing them spinning a “perp” against their vehicle or wall while they put the ‘cuffs’ on them prior to taking them down to jail, the “perp” crying out police brutality while denying they’ve committed a crime that they were caught in the middle of committing. Sometimes two or more patrol vehicles stopping at the same coffee shop to grab a cup of coffee to stay awake, exchanging information on what they’ve seen and what to watch for.

Underage teenagers breaking curfew, looking to get into mischief thinking they’ll never die, stealing a car to go on a high speed joy ride, do drugs, get drunk, spray painting graffiti on property that is not their own, members of a gang seeking revenge, runaways hoping for a better life from a home that had none or running from parents they though were too strict only to discover that life on their own was a dangerous existence but too proud to call their parents for help, but going further and further into dangerous waters.

Pimps watching for the next new batch of “young meat” getting off of out of town buses at the bus station, to add to their “stable”.

Old men either going home or going to work, sitting at bus stops holding their metal lunch pails, their shoulders bent with the weight of their years of trying to make a living, staring with eyes that no longer see anything except the hopelessness of their lives, and at the ground that is covered with litter and debris that the street cleaners had overlooked, occasionally looking up to see if their bus is coming.

Old women sitting on their chairs next to their windows looking out at the narrow existence of their world, their arms resting on the window sills, trying to capture a bit of coolness or fresh air from their stifling, old cooked food smelling apartments, wondering where did their youth go.

Firemen fully rigged out riding the engines to a call for help to beat down the flaming red monsters that threatens to devour a home or a life, some of the men holding on to the back of the engine like cowboys on a dangerously tamed horse, EMT’s and their vehicles “flying” through the night with a precious life inside trying to sustain it and hopefully succeeding.

Musicians unloading their gear in preparation for their nightly gig and always keeping one man on watch to make sure nothing is stolen in a “5 finger discount” attempt, while people are lining up to get into an illegal dance club to dance their troubles away, unaware that where they are dancing may become a fiery death trap.

Lovers fighting; she swinging her purse at him or something heavier that will let him know she is serious, yelling at him words that can not be repeated in polite company, exposing his perfidy and crying in her heart-broken hysteria and him, trying to get away, calling her “unreasonable” and a few other choice words, because he went to bed with her best friend because her best friend was willing.

And other night people who shared the night shift as I did, doing good or evil or just trying to survive. I’d see them all as the Blue Hour turned into night becoming darker and my bus would take me further into this world.

I learned quickly how to become one with the night, how to protect myself, to find safe havens if needed, to avoid being accosted, I learned how to not give the appearance of becoming a victim, to project an energy that I was not to be tampered with.

Eventually I recognized the regulars, they would leave me alone, or in some cases protect me from those who didn’t know I had a legitimate job to go to. I learned to spot possible trouble makers, I discovered that by looking directly at them they realized their advantage of surprise was gone, I would frequently turn around to check the way I came, I never carried a purse, too much of a temptation, the only thing was a plastic bag with my night meal, eventually my brother created a cloth dispatch bag that had the symbol for dangerous bio waste for me to carry my food, and I was never tampered with.

I considered the rain at night an additional protection in the dark, and blessed it as it washed away the garbage, the smell of urine or of rotting things that one did not want to know.

In time it became a way of life for me, a night creature; that’s when I started wearing things like spider and scorpion pins, skulls and bats, the night became second nature to me, and I welcomed the blue hour to give me a brief bit of beauty even though it was a signal to the dangerous on-coming darkness.

These many years later with changes in my life, I still find that I am that night creature, but my surroundings have changed both from where I lived before as I started out in my adult life and metamorphosing in the changes in my work through various jobs, although I still take on protections, but the Blue Hour of my mature years is different now compared to then.

I see it in all its beauty discovering in my mature years, that it is like sunrise but in reverse. It is first herald by the honking of the Farallon Geese as they fly in ragged formation to their night nesting grounds, then I see the light slowly retreating back, back, growing darker and darker, the fingers of light shrink, diminish and curl away from the landscape, I watch the sky as it turns from its pale sky blue and slowly as if Night draws her cloak across the heavens, turns a darker and darker blue until it reaches a moment of perfection where time seems to be suspended.

It is then I see that deep dark “Maxfield Parrish blue” so hard to achieve in the mundane world, but nature shows it in all its magnificence. Down at the horizon, banded shades of gold, pinks and purples bleeding into that blue, it seems as if night is beginning to swallow me into its protective darkness.

I hear the final peepings of the birds, the occasional cawing of the crows marking territory and watch as they wing their way back to their nests to settle into sleep, as the stars come out opening their twinkling lights, revealing the constellations and the hidden stories they tell.

I hear various neighbors’ cars returning home, a voice calling out to someone waiting for them, the occasional squeal of happiness from a small child, a few pots and pans’ clanging as someone is preparing dinner.

If it’s warm enough I’ll hear the sounds of the night insects’ cicada and crickets, there is a pond or ditch somewhere nearby that tiny frogs would hide and croak their amphibian song and for a moment I forget I’m in the city but someplace else.

The cat that I will not claim shows up and meows tentatively for a bit of dinner which I give him, then he goes off in search of an unwary mouse, giving in to his primitive urges before settling into his hidden spot under the porch to sleep, Belladonna watches from a careful distance, but she gets her evening meal as well and wolfs it down quickly to make sure the cat will not steal any of it, then contentedly lays at my feet with eyes drowsily closed allowing her nose to capture the floating scents to send to her silent messages to her brain of the immediate world around her.

The Koi fish for my eventual pond in their temporary pool flip and splash catching an insect that flew too close to the water, an evening meal for their greedy little maws.

If the wind is just right I can hear the ships’ horns that are docked in deep water off the Bay, or in the estuary echoing a warning to all and sundry “I’m here, I’m here, beware, beware”, a cool breeze begins to lift and swirls around me as the Earth cools down.

That same wind also sends to me the sounds of the night train as it’s diesel horn blows warnings at the crossings, to let the unwary know of the behemoth bearing down on the metal rails, yet the train horn sounds like a lost and lonely voice, beckoning those lonely travelers to join its travels to places far away.

A neighbor’s night blooming jasmine sends its scent out into the night air to entice night flying insects to pollinate its blooms and gives forth a heady aroma that causes my head to loll back in repose in my chair.

Briefly my thoughts go back to my day, encased in a bubble and whatever troubled me I release it into the dark blueness of the oncoming night, it is done and what is done is done and cannot be undone, unless I’m seeking a remedy and it is at this time solutions are found in contemplating the oncoming stillness and silence that the Blue Hour brings. Once completed, I find my soul at peace, or it simply is at peace knowing that I am wrapped by the oncoming darkness and I take it on as a protective cloak.

Now I welcome the Blue Hour to contemplate, reflect, to blend in and be absorbed by it, clean now from all the despair I had to work with from before, now to unwind from the busyness of the day and to be truly me, to spread myself on the night wind and allow it to carry me to lands undreamed of.

Later Darklings

Vampires, Vampires, Vampires~~~

Vampires, vampires.

Yes Darklings I’m back on vampires again.


Well I read a very interesting news story from a few Sundays ago in my newspaper. It seems that the drummer for Metalica is a Horror film buff. He collects many interesting things from the horror films.

In one of the pictures taken of him with a portion of his collection, I was ‘startled’ to see that he had an oil portrait of Bela Lugosi painted around 1932 or 1933 after he filmed “Dracula”. I know that portrait to be genuine, because in an edition of Architural Digest some years ago, they showed the interiors of a number of film stars including Lugosi and it was in a room that had that portrait.

I discovered that in 2004 or 05 that it sold at auction for $80,000 dollars, I knew then it had to be the Metalica dummer that purchased it.

But why was it sold at auction unless many years before to settle the Lugosi estate it had to be sold and eventually that owner re-sold it.

Even Lugosi had several capes, of which one of them sold at auction, but it was many fans understanding that he was buried in his Dracula cape, unless it was the one from on of his revivals that he did.

Because the original Dracula cape was given to his son Bela G. Lugosi (aka Bela junior), and it was that one which sold at auction, however Lugosi was buried in the tux that he wore in the film.

At Lugosi’s funeral Vincent Price said that Peter Lorre suggested that they put a steak in Lugosi chest to make sure he was dead, so pervasive was the vampire character associated with the man.

In 2011 in April or May Lugosi’s mansion that he lived in, in the 1940’s, called “La Paloma” went up for sale, in decent shape although it needed some fixing up but from the photos in decent shape with fantastic views. It sold for $2. 25 million.

If Lugosi had lived just a few more years he would have hit a revival but fate was not quiet so kind. But his son as a lawyer found his niche in dealing with image copyright.

For some reason I find that very interesting and so appropriate.

And briefly touching on gardening again I also discovered a Day Lily to add to my garden called “Bela Lugosi” a deep purple with a yellow center, just perfect for the Goth decorations I’ve found ---more on that later.

Later Darklings