Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was born..no, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ pkmorrison.livejournal.com and www.myspace.com/hermajestythelizardqueen)

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

This, That, Whatevuh...

I haven't had much energy for blogging right about now, as I'm still wrestling with the Demon Computer. Or really the Demon Printer, which insists on uninstalling itself every time I try to, you know, PRINT anything.
Causing me to have spent upwards of six hours on three separate occasions with Hewlett-Packard, the bastards, because Windows Vista can't install the printer from the CD and there is as yet no patch. AGAIN: THE BASTARDS!!! Both H-P and Microsoft...

So I had endless frustrating times with outsourced (Indian) online help. They couldn't have been nicer or more helpful, but I just couldn't figure out their accents...it was like talking to Peter Sellers. The last time I actually got a Canadian. Thank you, my northern friend!
Printer seems okay for now, but who knows? I'm sure it's just biding its time...

But I didn't want to not salute my own engagement anniversary (May 5) and receipt of engagement ring. (Art Deco platinum-set solitaire emerald the size of my thumbnail, in case you were wondering. And Jim at his most romantic. Which was pretty darn romantic, him being that handsome dashing Southern gentleman and all.) A lovely memory. I bought lilacs in its honor...makes me happy.

Also, which makes me happy in a whole other way, I see where the "Reverend" Jerry Falwell has gone to join the choir invisible. Now, as you have doubtless observed, I'm far too polite to gloat at the downfall of an enemy...oh, wait, who am I kidding, NOT!
I feel certain that that vile sack of crapweaselry is even now standing before his Maker demanding an explanation. Though more likely his Maker is demanding one of him. Oh well, factory recall for you, Falwell, you pig!

Thunderstorms are coming our way this afternoon, so should probably get offline. But I did want to let you all know I'm still here and still a happy blogger. Cheers!

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