I just got an e-mail saying my book is in at the library. It better be good. I was number 8 million on the waiting list. (That may be a slight exaggeration.) All I know is that I feel much older than I did when I first reserved it.
The book is The Omnivore's Dilemma by . . . someone. The author was on npr and I got so excited about the book I reserved it that day. Now it's been so long that I can't remember what the book is about or why I was so excited about it. I vaguely remember something about corn being evil, government subsidies being evil and how chickens eating maggots could save the world. But I could be wrong about that.
I'm sure I'll have lots to say about the book once I find out what it's about. I highly recommend it already . . . I think.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Why Can't People Just Be Perfect?
Is is too much to ask?
Laurel left a great comment on the MLK quote and I started to respond but it was becoming a post of its own. She said she was encouraged by Martin Luther King and the fact that he was so flawed and yet accomplished such amazing things. That just shows that we don't have to be perfect to be effective.
I was really struck by this because I have such a hard time balancing MLK's greatness with his weakness. I get swept up in what amazing things he did and just when I'm about to canonize him I remember how he cheated on his wife and I want to punch him. He had an incredible woman who was willing to stand by him even when people were bombing their house and threatening their lives and the lives of their children. I think I'd be a little less noble, a little more cranky and self-preserving. And he KNEW what a great wife he had but he still couldn't keep it in his pants when he was away. What the heck is that about!?!
These are the times I wish some people could be a little more perfect. I wish they'd leave a little less room for critics to pick them apart. Why didn't any of his friends pour some ice water down his pants? Everyone knew this was going on, why couldn't anyone just stand up and really be a friend, put him in his place and show him what an asshole he was being? (I'm sure some tried.) Most pastors would (and should) be removed from authority when they show themselves to be unrepentant adulterers. Maybe that was the problem. No one wanted him to be removed from authority. Maybe everyone just looked the other way because he was who he was. Who could replace him? Who could lead the movement like he could? But it's not fair.
Then I feel like I'm asking too much. I think, Look at what he did! How can you pick on someone who put his life on the line to free people from oppression? How can you pick on someone who wouldn't hate people who deserved to be hated? How can you pick on someone who refused to fight and kill just like Jesus refused? Could I do what he did? I have to be honest and say probably not. So why nit-pick?
Because adultery is a big deal!!! AAAAAARRRRRGGG! Adultery sucks! I think as a wife I know that most wives want a faithful husband. I think as a wife I know that a woman who is cheated on is not truly loved. It's so basic. Love=Faithfulness. It's not a difficult concept. Do people screw up? Yes. Should people be forgiven by their spouse after they've cheated? Yes, as difficult as it is, yes. But when it happens again, and again and again, it means they don't really want to stop. It means they don't want to do what it takes to remain faithful. It means they don't truly love their spouse.
I'm sure Martin Luther King, Jr. loved his wife a lot. And she obviously loved him. But that love wasn't complete on his end. It wasn't true. And that makes me so sad.
That's why Laurel's comment was so helpful. People are complex. People mess up and they mess up bad. No one is all good and very few people are all bad. We can't ignore the failings of great men any more than we can ignore their greatness. It is encouraging that God will use us even in our flawed state. The Bible is full of not so perfect heroes. Maybe that's why Saints are so problematic. We make someone a Saint and, in a way, that takes away their humanity. But when we take them as they were, flawed but great, we have a chance of really emulating them. Their achievements aren't in the special category of the sainted, they're in the category of the human.
Laurel left a great comment on the MLK quote and I started to respond but it was becoming a post of its own. She said she was encouraged by Martin Luther King and the fact that he was so flawed and yet accomplished such amazing things. That just shows that we don't have to be perfect to be effective.
I was really struck by this because I have such a hard time balancing MLK's greatness with his weakness. I get swept up in what amazing things he did and just when I'm about to canonize him I remember how he cheated on his wife and I want to punch him. He had an incredible woman who was willing to stand by him even when people were bombing their house and threatening their lives and the lives of their children. I think I'd be a little less noble, a little more cranky and self-preserving. And he KNEW what a great wife he had but he still couldn't keep it in his pants when he was away. What the heck is that about!?!
These are the times I wish some people could be a little more perfect. I wish they'd leave a little less room for critics to pick them apart. Why didn't any of his friends pour some ice water down his pants? Everyone knew this was going on, why couldn't anyone just stand up and really be a friend, put him in his place and show him what an asshole he was being? (I'm sure some tried.) Most pastors would (and should) be removed from authority when they show themselves to be unrepentant adulterers. Maybe that was the problem. No one wanted him to be removed from authority. Maybe everyone just looked the other way because he was who he was. Who could replace him? Who could lead the movement like he could? But it's not fair.
Then I feel like I'm asking too much. I think, Look at what he did! How can you pick on someone who put his life on the line to free people from oppression? How can you pick on someone who wouldn't hate people who deserved to be hated? How can you pick on someone who refused to fight and kill just like Jesus refused? Could I do what he did? I have to be honest and say probably not. So why nit-pick?
Because adultery is a big deal!!! AAAAAARRRRRGGG! Adultery sucks! I think as a wife I know that most wives want a faithful husband. I think as a wife I know that a woman who is cheated on is not truly loved. It's so basic. Love=Faithfulness. It's not a difficult concept. Do people screw up? Yes. Should people be forgiven by their spouse after they've cheated? Yes, as difficult as it is, yes. But when it happens again, and again and again, it means they don't really want to stop. It means they don't want to do what it takes to remain faithful. It means they don't truly love their spouse.
I'm sure Martin Luther King, Jr. loved his wife a lot. And she obviously loved him. But that love wasn't complete on his end. It wasn't true. And that makes me so sad.
That's why Laurel's comment was so helpful. People are complex. People mess up and they mess up bad. No one is all good and very few people are all bad. We can't ignore the failings of great men any more than we can ignore their greatness. It is encouraging that God will use us even in our flawed state. The Bible is full of not so perfect heroes. Maybe that's why Saints are so problematic. We make someone a Saint and, in a way, that takes away their humanity. But when we take them as they were, flawed but great, we have a chance of really emulating them. Their achievements aren't in the special category of the sainted, they're in the category of the human.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
To The Hispanic Cashier Who Said 'Hola' To My Kids--
I love you! Thank you for not being ashamed of who you are, what language you speak and where you're from despite the numerous idiots in the U.S. who think you should be. (And thank you for carrying the extra tray to our table--that was nice too.)
Asian Fest
It was 88 degrees on Sunday so we decided it would be the perfect day to spend outside with a thousand other people at the annual Asian Fest. We decided to drag along Ben's brother Ben (if you want clarification on that anomaly check out this post) along with Jessica and her husband's brother and sister who happened to be in town.We deafened ourselves with loud Punjabi music, tried unsuccessfully to find my friends doing henna, walked quickly past acupuncture booths, ate yummy Indian food, watched Ben K. eat a dodgy shrimp filled Vietnamese spring roll and saw Jessica race Moira and Evie on her knees. (That was probably the best part of the whole day.)
But what amazed me most (beyond Jessica racing on her knees) was Moira and her hyper-participation. She has no fear of crowds and it seemed like every time we turned around she was up on the stage doing something. There was a lot of audience participation after the different performances and she tried out Korean drumming and two different dance things. She would have gone up on that stage even if she was the only volunteer.
This is something I totally cannot relate to. Where did she get this from? Not from me, that's for sure. I'm an observer. A self-conscious, sidelines hoverer. I never volunteer. When people start calling for volunteers my internal organs start to shrink and cramp with anxiety. I'm sure I become physically smaller. I grit my teeth, dig my fingernails into my palms and wish I had the power to disappear. I'm a wimp.
Not so with Moira. She wants to experience everything and if that means standing up in front of a whole bunch of people, so be it. She raises her hand without a second thought. "Pick Me" should be her middle name. She answers questions and asks questions. Me--I'm completely content to leave without my questions answered. I'm totally okay remaining ignorant as long as I do not stand out. (It's not the most effective way to learn, but coming home and using Google fills in the gaps nicely.)
But even if I can't relate, I'm so glad Moira's like this. I'm trying to learn from her. She's definitely setting out to experience all she can in life, not allowing her mother's neurosis to hold her back. And really, who wants to be shy when it keeps you from playing big crazy drums with a bunch of strangers?
Friday, May 26, 2006
What The World Really Needs...
. . . is shorter pencils.
Think about it. What good is a pencil without an eraser? And yet every pencil is too long for its provided eraser. You can't make the eraser on a pencil too long because then it would bend and break off. SO make the pencils shorter! How many pencils are just tossed because there's no eraser on them? Those erasers that you can buy to put on top of the pencils are crap and the big erasers always get lost. You need an eraser on your pencil!
There needs to be a study to find the necessary pencil to eraser ratio. I realize some children make more mistakes than others and therefore use up erasers more quickly, but we shouldn't let that fact paralyze us. We need to find the answer here! Of course, a pencil couldn't be too short because then it inhibits proper writing and makes for an uncomfortable grip. But do we really need pencils to be as long as they are? How many people use a pencil down to the nub anyway? No one. Pencils get thrown away or lost way before that.
We need to rise up! We need a pencil revolution! For the sake of our children! For the sake of the trees! For the sake of graphite everywhere! We shall overcome!
(Maybe I could get Joan Baez to sit on a pencil. That would get something done.)
Think about it. What good is a pencil without an eraser? And yet every pencil is too long for its provided eraser. You can't make the eraser on a pencil too long because then it would bend and break off. SO make the pencils shorter! How many pencils are just tossed because there's no eraser on them? Those erasers that you can buy to put on top of the pencils are crap and the big erasers always get lost. You need an eraser on your pencil!
There needs to be a study to find the necessary pencil to eraser ratio. I realize some children make more mistakes than others and therefore use up erasers more quickly, but we shouldn't let that fact paralyze us. We need to find the answer here! Of course, a pencil couldn't be too short because then it inhibits proper writing and makes for an uncomfortable grip. But do we really need pencils to be as long as they are? How many people use a pencil down to the nub anyway? No one. Pencils get thrown away or lost way before that.
We need to rise up! We need a pencil revolution! For the sake of our children! For the sake of the trees! For the sake of graphite everywhere! We shall overcome!
(Maybe I could get Joan Baez to sit on a pencil. That would get something done.)
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Is That Joan In That Tree?
Joan Baez is sitting in a tree. You can read about it here. I am SO embarrassed. And, making it even worse, she's sharing her tree sitting duties with that butterfly girl who sat in the redwood for 2 years. (How on earth did she use the bathroom? I don't even want to think about it.)
I am all for activism, I am all for marches and protesting and petitions and raising money--but not tree-sitting. Tree-sitting gives all activists a bad name. It's tacky. It's embarrassing. It's what weirdos do. Weirdos sing folk songs in trees.
Was there no other way, Joan?
I am all for activism, I am all for marches and protesting and petitions and raising money--but not tree-sitting. Tree-sitting gives all activists a bad name. It's tacky. It's embarrassing. It's what weirdos do. Weirdos sing folk songs in trees.
Was there no other way, Joan?
Found This Quote Last Night
Through violence you may murder a murderer, but you can't murder murder.
Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can't establish truth.
Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can't murder hate.
Darkness cannot put out darkness. Only light can do that.
--Martin Luther King, Jr.
Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can't establish truth.
Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can't murder hate.
Darkness cannot put out darkness. Only light can do that.
--Martin Luther King, Jr.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Prevention Or Guarantee?
Perhaps this administration is certifiably insane. I'm really beginning to think so.
Terrorism.
This word is George Bush's rubber stamp. This word gives him permission to set aside human rights. This word gives him permission to set aside our privacy. This word gives him permission to keep tabs on journalists who might leak secret information vital to the war on terror.
Maybe America is certifiably insane. I'm really beginning to think so.
When polls were taken most Americans said they were okay with the government tracking who they called. Fine, go right ahead; I got nothin' to hide and if it stops the terrorists all the more reason to do it. We trust this government like it's trustworthy. We trust this government like it's never lied to us. We trust this government like it's never made a mistake on who is innocent. We trust this government like it will keep us safe.
I think this administration is actually endangering us all the more. Invade Iraq. Good plan, terrorists will love it. Keep many prisoners in Guantanamo Bay even though you can't prove their involvement. Good idea. I'm sure that particular Muslim when finally released will go out and give great PR for the U.S. If they weren't a terrorist going into Guantanamo, I'm sure they're thinking about it now. Cut off funding to the Hamas lead Palestinian Authority. Good idea. Now everyday people are out of work, now hospitals can't provide services, now the area is REALLY going to hell. Way to guarantee even more terrorists. Think about bombing Iran. Oh, THERE's a good idea.
Terrorism is here to stay. Some people will always be filled with enough hate to kill. America will never be popular in the Middle East. (Especially if Arabs equate everyday Americans with our shows they see on their satellite tvs, which is actually very common.) But so many people turn to terrorism out of desperation, out of revenge for wrongs, out of hopelessness. America seems to think pulling the noose tighter can stop this. But the more wrongs, the more terrorists. It's like the hydra--cut off one of its heads and you'll have seven new ones to deal with.
There's not a clear solution. But the phrase "We will not bow to terror" is a dangerous one. I admit, it seems like the only way--if you "give in", then terror is legitimized. But isn't that just another way of allowing terror to force our hand. We HAVE to act in a certain way or the terrorists will think they've won? It's insane. This administration is incapable of thinking outside the box and that could ultimately place us in more danger than ever.
Terrorism.
This word is George Bush's rubber stamp. This word gives him permission to set aside human rights. This word gives him permission to set aside our privacy. This word gives him permission to keep tabs on journalists who might leak secret information vital to the war on terror.
Maybe America is certifiably insane. I'm really beginning to think so.
When polls were taken most Americans said they were okay with the government tracking who they called. Fine, go right ahead; I got nothin' to hide and if it stops the terrorists all the more reason to do it. We trust this government like it's trustworthy. We trust this government like it's never lied to us. We trust this government like it's never made a mistake on who is innocent. We trust this government like it will keep us safe.
I think this administration is actually endangering us all the more. Invade Iraq. Good plan, terrorists will love it. Keep many prisoners in Guantanamo Bay even though you can't prove their involvement. Good idea. I'm sure that particular Muslim when finally released will go out and give great PR for the U.S. If they weren't a terrorist going into Guantanamo, I'm sure they're thinking about it now. Cut off funding to the Hamas lead Palestinian Authority. Good idea. Now everyday people are out of work, now hospitals can't provide services, now the area is REALLY going to hell. Way to guarantee even more terrorists. Think about bombing Iran. Oh, THERE's a good idea.
Terrorism is here to stay. Some people will always be filled with enough hate to kill. America will never be popular in the Middle East. (Especially if Arabs equate everyday Americans with our shows they see on their satellite tvs, which is actually very common.) But so many people turn to terrorism out of desperation, out of revenge for wrongs, out of hopelessness. America seems to think pulling the noose tighter can stop this. But the more wrongs, the more terrorists. It's like the hydra--cut off one of its heads and you'll have seven new ones to deal with.
There's not a clear solution. But the phrase "We will not bow to terror" is a dangerous one. I admit, it seems like the only way--if you "give in", then terror is legitimized. But isn't that just another way of allowing terror to force our hand. We HAVE to act in a certain way or the terrorists will think they've won? It's insane. This administration is incapable of thinking outside the box and that could ultimately place us in more danger than ever.
I Am SUCH A Sucker For Little House On The Prairie
We checked out the first season of Little House on the Prairie for the girls and it's killing me. Almost every episode is a tear-jerker. Friends help an injured Pa in a dramatic last minute chance to keep his team of oxen. The town bands together after a hail storm destroys the wheat crop. Pa makes a special shoe for the crippled girl so she can run and play for the first time. Ma helps the big kid in school who can't read. The tinker and the town children secretly make the bell and unite the divided town, but first the kids have to hand over THEIR toys to be melted. I'm an emotional wreck.Last night we made the mistake of watching an episode right before the girls' bed time so Moira went to bed with a red, tear stained face. It was that darn Mary this time. She almost burned down the barn and Ma punished her by not allowing her to take a special exam that could have won her a dictionary. My kids are getting used to these disasters and they're always on edge. Mary went out to the barn to study late at night and as soon as she lit that lantern Moira was so nervous she couldn't sit still. "What's gonna happen? Is the barn going to burn down? I think I remember this. The barn's going to burn down." I actually said, "Not everything turns into a disaster in this show." Seconds later Mary kicks over the lantern in her sleep and almost burns down the barn.
But disaster is always followed by family togetherness and that's what got Moira crying last night. Mary secretly studied for the forbidden exam, but in the end obeyed Ma and didn't take it. Ma said sorry, Mary said sorry, there was hugging and sniffling. Moira's back was turned to me but I heard some sniffling that wasn't from the speakers.
I didn't cry at that scene just because I was proud of Ma for not wimping out. Part of that episode was Ma struggling with her harsh reaction to Mary starting the fire. She actually talks to the preacher about it. It was so infuriating I had to fast-forward. If your kid almost burns down the barn and almost killed the horse along with herself and the fire might have spread to the house--I think you can be as harsh as you want.
But the other scenes I'm sniffling right along with Moira. Ma and Pa are just so GOOD. And they make so many nice friends and everyone has these wonderful chances to help each other out. Even something as simple as handing a fellow traveler a piece of rawhide to tie up his worn out boots is like the most remarkable act of kindness you've ever witnessed. I am putty in their hands.
(But there's one thing that ruins it all--Carrie. That little kid is the grossest eater in the world and they like to pause the camera so they don't miss any of the chewed up food falling out of her mouth and dribbling down her face. This is cute? And give that girl a haircut! She looks like she's been raised by wolves.)
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Me Gusta My Digital Camera
Recently there's been a discussion amongst Ben's family over what is better-- a "real" camera or digital. I don't care. Any picture is better than no picture and that's what I had when I was using my pricey Canon Rebel. Why you ask? I shall tell you:
1. Most of the time I wouldn't take it with me because it was big and I didn't want to haul it around all day.
2. I never developed the film. This Fall my mother decided she wanted pictures of her grandchildren so she came and ordered me to hand over my film. I had over 25 rolls. At this point Evie was 3 1/2 and I had a total of 3 developed rolls of film with her on it. They were all of her as a newborn.
3. You just can't take pictures of kids with a regular camera and remain financially sound. Kids move. They make weird faces at the last minute. I save all sorts of money now by deleting crummy pictures.
So that's my point of view on the subject. And I thought I'd include some of my supposedly less than quality digital photos (SAM). (My dream is to become a person who takes those desktop background pictures for a living.)
And just because they're cute--
1. Most of the time I wouldn't take it with me because it was big and I didn't want to haul it around all day.
2. I never developed the film. This Fall my mother decided she wanted pictures of her grandchildren so she came and ordered me to hand over my film. I had over 25 rolls. At this point Evie was 3 1/2 and I had a total of 3 developed rolls of film with her on it. They were all of her as a newborn.
3. You just can't take pictures of kids with a regular camera and remain financially sound. Kids move. They make weird faces at the last minute. I save all sorts of money now by deleting crummy pictures.
So that's my point of view on the subject. And I thought I'd include some of my supposedly less than quality digital photos (SAM). (My dream is to become a person who takes those desktop background pictures for a living.)
And just because they're cute--
You Would Give Up What?!?
Blurry eyed and tired, clutching my enormous cup of coffee this morning, a survey caught my eye on aol. If you had to choose, what would you give up--coffee or the internet? ARE YOU KIDDING!!! Who would give up coffee?
That's when I realized I had a problem. I thought about it--What would I be willing to give up if I had to choose between that and a lifetime of coffee. The Internet? My dog? My car? My family? All gave me pause. Okay, not the family thing, but definitely the others.
I drink 6-8 cups of coffee a day. I feel happy when I think about coffee. Coffee makes me think about friends, religion, deep thoughts, dessert. How could I expect to go without coffee? Though functioning without the internet would be like cutting off my right arm, I'm sure I'd eventually cope. But no coffee? What would I do--drink cocoa? Fruit juice? Soda? No, without coffee I'm sure I'd go straight for the booze and never let up. Life without coffee--Impossible.
Thankfully I read the survey and it was only talking about people giving up their recreational internet usage while at work vs. their coffee at work. Most people said they'd give up the internet, but it was close. But who cares. They can just use the internet at home. Stupid survey.
And I'm sure after this post I will be bombarded with people who claim their lives are perfectly fulfilling without coffee. People who think I have a problem and they have the solution. People who say that life is actually better now that they gave up coffee. But you sad, sad people will NOT convince me. You are sick and we coffee drinkers know it even if you don't.
That's when I realized I had a problem. I thought about it--What would I be willing to give up if I had to choose between that and a lifetime of coffee. The Internet? My dog? My car? My family? All gave me pause. Okay, not the family thing, but definitely the others.
I drink 6-8 cups of coffee a day. I feel happy when I think about coffee. Coffee makes me think about friends, religion, deep thoughts, dessert. How could I expect to go without coffee? Though functioning without the internet would be like cutting off my right arm, I'm sure I'd eventually cope. But no coffee? What would I do--drink cocoa? Fruit juice? Soda? No, without coffee I'm sure I'd go straight for the booze and never let up. Life without coffee--Impossible.
Thankfully I read the survey and it was only talking about people giving up their recreational internet usage while at work vs. their coffee at work. Most people said they'd give up the internet, but it was close. But who cares. They can just use the internet at home. Stupid survey.
And I'm sure after this post I will be bombarded with people who claim their lives are perfectly fulfilling without coffee. People who think I have a problem and they have the solution. People who say that life is actually better now that they gave up coffee. But you sad, sad people will NOT convince me. You are sick and we coffee drinkers know it even if you don't.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
I'm Sure David Letterman Already Covered This
I keep forgetting to write about Germany's new plans to help cut down on prostitution. It's hilarious and yet absolute genius. The plan is to retrain prostitutes to work as geriatric nurses and has been organized by the Protestant church and paid for by the E.U. You can read or listen to the story here.
I know you could make so many jokes about this, but it is a great plan. I am such a big fan of free job training to help people get out of bad living situations. We'd all be so much better off if our country spent more money on these kinds of programs than on throwing people in prison for drug offenses or funding those ever tempting preemptive wars.
My favorite quotes from the story (and I'm not making these up) are:
A prostitute-- TANYA [translation]: I had some older customers who'd talk to me about their worries and pains and I really want to give these people a good time and make them happy . . . to find out their needs and ways to fulfill them.
A recruiter for the retraining program--JUTTA GEISSLER-HEHLKE: Former prostitutes are very customer-oriented, very friendly, and they have the aim to make these old people happy and satisfied and enjoy the last parts of their life, and they have learned things like that in prostitution before.
As funny as it is, I'm hoping the humor doesn't eventually sink the program. It's a fantastic idea.
I know you could make so many jokes about this, but it is a great plan. I am such a big fan of free job training to help people get out of bad living situations. We'd all be so much better off if our country spent more money on these kinds of programs than on throwing people in prison for drug offenses or funding those ever tempting preemptive wars.
My favorite quotes from the story (and I'm not making these up) are:
A prostitute-- TANYA [translation]: I had some older customers who'd talk to me about their worries and pains and I really want to give these people a good time and make them happy . . . to find out their needs and ways to fulfill them.
A recruiter for the retraining program--JUTTA GEISSLER-HEHLKE: Former prostitutes are very customer-oriented, very friendly, and they have the aim to make these old people happy and satisfied and enjoy the last parts of their life, and they have learned things like that in prostitution before.
As funny as it is, I'm hoping the humor doesn't eventually sink the program. It's a fantastic idea.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
2008 Is In The Bag
I just saw Good Night And Good Luck and I'm completely ready to vote George Clooney into office. I'd like to be the first (that I know of) to propose an Obama/Clooney ticket for 2008. It's too perfect--a complete landslide. Since there's not a woman in America who wouldn't vote for them they'd have 50% of the population's vote before they even started campaigning. Heck, I don't think they'd even have to campaign.Am I right or am I right, America?
Friday, May 19, 2006
Gotta Love The Caste System
I'd like to solicit you for some funds. I need to get to New Delhi right now so I can personally smack some people. Maybe I can find the guy below who's holding the sign that says "Earn your seat based on merit. Give your brains a little credit." This sign is so infuriating and so ridiculous it's laughable.
What makes it so ridiculous is that the young man with the sign is probably of the Brahmin caste. (He's light skinned too so that's even more in his favor.) And he's protesting the government raising the quota for OBCs going to med school. OBC stands for Other Backward Castes/Classes. Many of these upper caste students are going on a hunger strike. It's so nice to see the privileged protest. Poor things. The BBC had a med student on saying that India had equality, the caste system had been outlawed and now everyone needs to be judged by the same standards. What planet is she living on? (I might need extra funds to make sure that I can track her down specifically.) Having Brahmins tell the lower castes to make it on their own merit is like cutting off a person's legs and then telling them life is fair and they need to stand on their own two feet in this world.
(Government and private doctors are also striking which is affecting several hospitals and disrupting normal care and emergency services. Charming.)
I must admit quotas always make me nervous. I hate the idea of admitting people based on anything other than merit. But what are you going to do when you have a society that prohibits people from getting the education and experience they need to get the proper merit in the first place. It seems like you have to start somewhere. And quotas do help those who normally would have been overlooked (even if qualified) get a crack at an education.
We have the same problem in this country. Whether people like it or not, many minority students don't have an equal shot at an education. It's not their fault. You can lay the blame everywhere but on an innocent kid. Is it the kid's fault they live in a bad neighborhood? Is it the kid's fault that our tax system basically guarantees that poorer kids get a less than equal education? Is it the kid's fault that his parents aren't supportive because they're either working 2 jobs to support their family or they're high or they were just never there in the first place? There are so many things stacked against poor kids that an educational quota system seems like the least we can do for the time being. It's too late and it's a band-aid, but it's something.
And back to India. What are the rules once these OBC are in med school? Don't they have to keep up with the same work load the upper castes do? If so--does India really have to fear the hospitals being flooded with doctors who don't know what they're doing. The upper caste would like for you to think that's exactly what will happen. But that just seems like the panic attack of the privileged when faced with what might eventually become the equal playing field they like to boast about.
What makes it so ridiculous is that the young man with the sign is probably of the Brahmin caste. (He's light skinned too so that's even more in his favor.) And he's protesting the government raising the quota for OBCs going to med school. OBC stands for Other Backward Castes/Classes. Many of these upper caste students are going on a hunger strike. It's so nice to see the privileged protest. Poor things. The BBC had a med student on saying that India had equality, the caste system had been outlawed and now everyone needs to be judged by the same standards. What planet is she living on? (I might need extra funds to make sure that I can track her down specifically.) Having Brahmins tell the lower castes to make it on their own merit is like cutting off a person's legs and then telling them life is fair and they need to stand on their own two feet in this world.(Government and private doctors are also striking which is affecting several hospitals and disrupting normal care and emergency services. Charming.)
I must admit quotas always make me nervous. I hate the idea of admitting people based on anything other than merit. But what are you going to do when you have a society that prohibits people from getting the education and experience they need to get the proper merit in the first place. It seems like you have to start somewhere. And quotas do help those who normally would have been overlooked (even if qualified) get a crack at an education.
We have the same problem in this country. Whether people like it or not, many minority students don't have an equal shot at an education. It's not their fault. You can lay the blame everywhere but on an innocent kid. Is it the kid's fault they live in a bad neighborhood? Is it the kid's fault that our tax system basically guarantees that poorer kids get a less than equal education? Is it the kid's fault that his parents aren't supportive because they're either working 2 jobs to support their family or they're high or they were just never there in the first place? There are so many things stacked against poor kids that an educational quota system seems like the least we can do for the time being. It's too late and it's a band-aid, but it's something.
And back to India. What are the rules once these OBC are in med school? Don't they have to keep up with the same work load the upper castes do? If so--does India really have to fear the hospitals being flooded with doctors who don't know what they're doing. The upper caste would like for you to think that's exactly what will happen. But that just seems like the panic attack of the privileged when faced with what might eventually become the equal playing field they like to boast about.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
I Cannot Overestimate The Benefits Of A Well Crafted Eyebrow
I know--as if the last picture I posted wasn't bad enough. But you have no idea how difficult it is to take a self-portrait of your eyebrows in the bathroom mirror while simultaneously holding up your bangs and trying to look serious. It's nearly impossible.
Yes, today I had my eyebrows done. It hurts. But I'm learning to embrace vanity of all sorts so I went ahead and had it done. Actually, I'm proud to say, this is my second professional eyebrow doing. I am so vain.
My friend Neena used to work in a salon in India. She's a professional hair stylist, eyebrow perfecter, henna artist and, I hesitate to include this, leg waxer. She waxes other women's legs. (*shiver*) I've seen it done and I am NOT the same.
Well, let's get off that topic and back to my eyebrows. If you're like me, you never knew you needed your eyebrows done. You looked in the mirror and thought they looked pretty good. I mean, if you don't have Bert eyebrows you don't have much to worry about, right? WRONG! After having it done and seeing other women's before and afters, I am hear to tell you ladies--It makes all the difference in the world. In fact, do everyone a favor and just don't come outside until you get your eyebrows professionally perfected.
I always wondered why Neena kept hinting that I should come over and get my eyebrows done. It ate at me. I eventually cracked and shouted at Anita--"What's wrong with my eyebrows anyway!?! Look at them! Do you see anything wrong? I think I have perfectly nice eyebrows, don't you?" She just looked down at her feet and mumbled something about not knowing and that I should just talk to Neena.
So, doubting my own sanity, I relented. I went with Anita and made the eyebrow commitment. (But I let Anita go first just so I had the chance to chicken out if I needed to.) Neena uses thread. Regular thread from a spool. She has some weird way of using it so it acts like some freaky mega tweezer. It hurts! But then she smoothes lotion on you and you feel all pampered and princessy. And, yes, there is a total difference.
I don't know why I felt I needed to share all this.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
The Things We Do For Friendship
Yesterday my friend Nancy called and left a message on the machine that she and her husband were going to be stinking famous by day's end and if we wanted to be on the inside track of their superstardom we better get to a tv.
Actually, she just said they were interviewed by a local news station doing a story on breast cancer survivors and their struggles to have children after chemotherapy and they would be on the news between 5:15-5:30.
So I called up Anita to see if we could come over and watch her tv. But at the last minute she called and told us Avnish had a really nasty fever and we probably didn't want to come over. So I frantically called Arju and literally ran over to her house with the kids. The news had already started and I wasn't sure if we'd missed Nancy. As we sat through the agonizing hell that is local news, I remembered why we don't have a tv. Alligators attack in Florida! Baby is pulled from car crash that killed her parents! Weather is coming that could kill you! Find out why spray-on suntans can kill you! ALL OF THIS COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!
Arju in particular is quite fond of terrible news stories. She always has the tv on and it's either the latest person kidnapped and murdered, dogs attacking or something horrible happening to children. She really perks up at disasters. Even bad traffic reports seem to please her. Her son is constantly humming the Bad Boys song and talking about car chases and horrible crashes and the police chasing bad guys. It's really like the tragedy twilight zone going over there.
So we sat on the couch getting more and more convinced that it's really not safe to do just about anything because IT COULD HAPPEN TO US when Nancy's story came on. When your friend is on tv you kind of want to concentrate and listen to what's being said, but I was at Arju's house so that was a little difficult. Two year old Radiya naturally starts stripping her clothes off (for some reason this kid does the nudity routine as soon as guests come over) and Moira and Evie start yelling at her to stop and Arju just laughs and slaps my knee and Saima's whining like Saima always whines. I'm trying to ignore all of this, but Arju keeps asking questions so I'm curtly saying things like "Yes, that's my friend. Yes, that's her husband. Yes, that's her kid. Yes, she's pregnant. No, that's not a bad haircut, she had chemotherapy." And just when I'm about to scream the segment ends.
That's when Arju turns to me and says my face looks fat.
Actually, she just said they were interviewed by a local news station doing a story on breast cancer survivors and their struggles to have children after chemotherapy and they would be on the news between 5:15-5:30.
So I called up Anita to see if we could come over and watch her tv. But at the last minute she called and told us Avnish had a really nasty fever and we probably didn't want to come over. So I frantically called Arju and literally ran over to her house with the kids. The news had already started and I wasn't sure if we'd missed Nancy. As we sat through the agonizing hell that is local news, I remembered why we don't have a tv. Alligators attack in Florida! Baby is pulled from car crash that killed her parents! Weather is coming that could kill you! Find out why spray-on suntans can kill you! ALL OF THIS COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!
Arju in particular is quite fond of terrible news stories. She always has the tv on and it's either the latest person kidnapped and murdered, dogs attacking or something horrible happening to children. She really perks up at disasters. Even bad traffic reports seem to please her. Her son is constantly humming the Bad Boys song and talking about car chases and horrible crashes and the police chasing bad guys. It's really like the tragedy twilight zone going over there.
So we sat on the couch getting more and more convinced that it's really not safe to do just about anything because IT COULD HAPPEN TO US when Nancy's story came on. When your friend is on tv you kind of want to concentrate and listen to what's being said, but I was at Arju's house so that was a little difficult. Two year old Radiya naturally starts stripping her clothes off (for some reason this kid does the nudity routine as soon as guests come over) and Moira and Evie start yelling at her to stop and Arju just laughs and slaps my knee and Saima's whining like Saima always whines. I'm trying to ignore all of this, but Arju keeps asking questions so I'm curtly saying things like "Yes, that's my friend. Yes, that's her husband. Yes, that's her kid. Yes, she's pregnant. No, that's not a bad haircut, she had chemotherapy." And just when I'm about to scream the segment ends.
That's when Arju turns to me and says my face looks fat.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Never Call Me A Wuss!
Ben said I wasn't woman enough to post this picture. He called me a wuss! Well, I proved him wrong by golly! Ha!
I'm already regretting this.
Happy Birthday, Honey!
It's slowly sinking in--my husband has hit the big 3-0. I will quote him now--"I'm old and decrepit. I'm just going to quit now. What is there to do once you hit thirty?" (That is an actual quote spoken today after breakfast.)
It's so sad to see a man just crumble like this. Life is over, his youth spent, his eye sight shot and he makes old man noises when he sits down and stands up.
People seemed to be really touched by my tribute to Ben in the Mother's Day post. But they don't realize I have a shallow side too, the side of me that wants to say it's time to move on now. Time to look for younger material. Just call me Demi Moore. We've had a good life together, but I'm a mere 28 (for at least a few more months) and it's too much to expect me to be saddled to this elderly gentleman for much longer. I'm no Anna Nicole Smith.
But there's also the side of me that remembers those vows we took. And I think, This is what Sarah did for Abraham. She was HOT and yet she stuck with that old guy even when courted by kings and pharaohs. So I thought that instead of ditching Ben I would try to encourage him, try to tell him that life isn't over, that the best is yet to come. (Ha! Of course I don't believe that, but for his sake and the sake of our children I will lie through my teeth.)
So BEN here are the encouraging life stories I thought I'd share with you--
Leni Riefenstahl
She was the first person who came to mind. 80-some years old and she was still scuba diving and making documentaries. Granted she also made Nazi propaganda movies for Hitler, so she probably sold her soul to the devil to remain as active and youthful as she did BUT still an example of old people like you doing what they love long after they should have given up and died.
Madonna and child. 47 years old, still looking great and procreating at an unnatural age. Granted, she too sold her soul to the devil (around the time her name and the word "cones" became inseparable) but she is a perfect example of old people refusing to give up.
Michael Jackson. Take a lesson from this. . . man. He has realized that plastic NEVER decomposes. Eventually when he has completely traded in flesh for man made materials he will last forever (unless melted). A true pioneering spirit in the realm of geriatrics.
And, finally, Ron Howard. He's old and bald beyond belief, but people still call him Opie. Due to the beauty of syndication he will remain a forever child, eternally youthful, a freckled boy-saint.
Honey, I hope sharing the stories of these real life heroes gives you hope. Never give up!
I love you.
It's so sad to see a man just crumble like this. Life is over, his youth spent, his eye sight shot and he makes old man noises when he sits down and stands up.
People seemed to be really touched by my tribute to Ben in the Mother's Day post. But they don't realize I have a shallow side too, the side of me that wants to say it's time to move on now. Time to look for younger material. Just call me Demi Moore. We've had a good life together, but I'm a mere 28 (for at least a few more months) and it's too much to expect me to be saddled to this elderly gentleman for much longer. I'm no Anna Nicole Smith.
But there's also the side of me that remembers those vows we took. And I think, This is what Sarah did for Abraham. She was HOT and yet she stuck with that old guy even when courted by kings and pharaohs. So I thought that instead of ditching Ben I would try to encourage him, try to tell him that life isn't over, that the best is yet to come. (Ha! Of course I don't believe that, but for his sake and the sake of our children I will lie through my teeth.)
So BEN here are the encouraging life stories I thought I'd share with you--
Leni RiefenstahlShe was the first person who came to mind. 80-some years old and she was still scuba diving and making documentaries. Granted she also made Nazi propaganda movies for Hitler, so she probably sold her soul to the devil to remain as active and youthful as she did BUT still an example of old people like you doing what they love long after they should have given up and died.
Madonna and child. 47 years old, still looking great and procreating at an unnatural age. Granted, she too sold her soul to the devil (around the time her name and the word "cones" became inseparable) but she is a perfect example of old people refusing to give up.Michael Jackson. Take a lesson from this. . . man. He has realized that plastic NEVER decomposes. Eventually when he has completely traded in flesh for man made materials he will last forever (unless melted). A true pioneering spirit in the realm of geriatrics.And, finally, Ron Howard. He's old and bald beyond belief, but people still call him Opie. Due to the beauty of syndication he will remain a forever child, eternally youthful, a freckled boy-saint.Honey, I hope sharing the stories of these real life heroes gives you hope. Never give up!
I love you.
Monday, May 15, 2006
If You Want To Borrow My Pruning Shears That's Fine...
. . . but please let me know that you're planning to use them to clip the broken lock off your bike. That way I can pull them from your grimy twelve year old hands and slap you upside the head.
AVNISH!
But I have to ask myself who is more of an idiot--the kid who tried to cut a lock with pruning shears or the adult who gave a kid like this pruning shears in the first place?
AVNISH!
But I have to ask myself who is more of an idiot--the kid who tried to cut a lock with pruning shears or the adult who gave a kid like this pruning shears in the first place?
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Mother's Day?
I really need to get something other than a dry erase calendar. I'm missing all the pseudo holidays. Until last night at church I had no clue mother's day was approaching. First St. Patrick's Day and now this. Oh well. I don't really do the Hallmark holidays anyway.
Last night was interesting (actually it was rather fabulous)--a mother's day sermon couched in a series on the DaVinci code. Who knew?
The previous pastor of Cypress Wesleyan has returned to be the executive pastor (vs. the regular pastor). I don't know what an executive vs. regular pastor really does but that's okay. Anyway, he did the sermon last night. At first I found him rather stodgy and slick in that old fashioned pastor way. But that was only when he was doing segues and benedictions. He's filled in to do a few sermons since then and now I'm quite fond of him. In fact the man almost got an amen out of me. Me! Who knew?
I can't remember how he got on the topic but he started talking about how he was a fan of separation of church and state because whenever the church gets too cozy with government it's the church that suffers. He just kept going and I was in utter shock. I don't think I'd ever heard a main stream pastor say things like this from the pulpit. I was so tempted to shout out an amen! I knew none of the other ameners were going to do it. It was up to me. It was my moment! But I'm a complete coward so I didn't do it. AAAARRRRGGG.
(Interesting tangent on ameners. Anita came to church with us one night along with Avnish and Diksha. She'd been to Catholic church before in India but never to an American protestant church. There's an amener very close to where I always sit and she was totally confused by this. It must have been a pretty good sermon or something because I remember that guy said amen about 15 times. Eventually Anita just turned around and stared--I had to pinch her. She just had no idea what was going on with this guy. She didn't even know what amen was. Another funny thing that night was the word Holy. It was repeated in the chorus of one of the songs. Holi is a Hindu holiday and when she first heard it sung she was really confused about what was going on. It would be like hearing a Hindu prayer being sung and hearing Christmas being repeated over and over again. A weird-out to be sure.)
ANYWAY, he continued on his mother's day sermon and I couldn't believe it. Here was this man talking about how great women are and how great mothers are and I didn't hate him. Usually when men try to pull this off they end up sounding suspiciously condescending and insincere. It makes my skin crawl. It's like they're just trying to butter us up so we'll be happy being relegated solely to childbearing and cooking. But last night he really was completely sincere. Who knew? (There was another point where he was talking about one of the first feminist meetings being held in a Wesleyan church. I almost shouted "Woooo!")
Getting to the point of this whole post (Point?)--He began to tick off this really dire list of how many mothers feel-- depressed, unappreciated, tired, etc. And right when every mother in the room felt like jumping off a bridge he smiled and said "Welcome to Mother's Day at Cypress!" A portion of the sermon was a lesson to men on how to love a woman based on Jesus' love for the church. He pulled this off quite well too. Finally he finished with an encouragement to mothers. Even if they feel unappreciated and overworked they should know what great value God places on them, how important and elevated a position Jesus gave women.
I kind of tune out on these little pep talks. I always think they're for the wimpy women. But then I thought of some marriages I know and how unappreciated the women are and other marriages where there's nothing but fighting and feelings of insecurity. I realized that I don't struggle with these feelings ONLY because my husband ROCKS! He never lets me forget I'm appreciated. He never makes my role all about cooking and cleaning and child rearing. He truly treats me like an equal. He's not out of it and in his own little world where his wife and family never figure into the equation. He's always trying to nurture me to live up to my potential. He's never competitive or petty or critical. He totally laughs at me when I call myself a feminist though. I don't work and don't want to, I homeschool and I don't let him help with housework. But when he treats me with so much dignity I don't need to be the bitchy, competitive nag that is often associated with the word feminist. And my kids are always saying thank you and I love you and giving me these random hugs. (I know we haven't reached the teenage years so I'm living in a nice dream world I'm sure.) But I'm really ridiculously blessed. My family is really too good to me.
So this feels like a pretty good Mother's Day even though I'm not celebrating it. (I'm still going to be a hypocrite and call my mom though.)
Last night was interesting (actually it was rather fabulous)--a mother's day sermon couched in a series on the DaVinci code. Who knew?
The previous pastor of Cypress Wesleyan has returned to be the executive pastor (vs. the regular pastor). I don't know what an executive vs. regular pastor really does but that's okay. Anyway, he did the sermon last night. At first I found him rather stodgy and slick in that old fashioned pastor way. But that was only when he was doing segues and benedictions. He's filled in to do a few sermons since then and now I'm quite fond of him. In fact the man almost got an amen out of me. Me! Who knew?
I can't remember how he got on the topic but he started talking about how he was a fan of separation of church and state because whenever the church gets too cozy with government it's the church that suffers. He just kept going and I was in utter shock. I don't think I'd ever heard a main stream pastor say things like this from the pulpit. I was so tempted to shout out an amen! I knew none of the other ameners were going to do it. It was up to me. It was my moment! But I'm a complete coward so I didn't do it. AAAARRRRGGG.
(Interesting tangent on ameners. Anita came to church with us one night along with Avnish and Diksha. She'd been to Catholic church before in India but never to an American protestant church. There's an amener very close to where I always sit and she was totally confused by this. It must have been a pretty good sermon or something because I remember that guy said amen about 15 times. Eventually Anita just turned around and stared--I had to pinch her. She just had no idea what was going on with this guy. She didn't even know what amen was. Another funny thing that night was the word Holy. It was repeated in the chorus of one of the songs. Holi is a Hindu holiday and when she first heard it sung she was really confused about what was going on. It would be like hearing a Hindu prayer being sung and hearing Christmas being repeated over and over again. A weird-out to be sure.)
ANYWAY, he continued on his mother's day sermon and I couldn't believe it. Here was this man talking about how great women are and how great mothers are and I didn't hate him. Usually when men try to pull this off they end up sounding suspiciously condescending and insincere. It makes my skin crawl. It's like they're just trying to butter us up so we'll be happy being relegated solely to childbearing and cooking. But last night he really was completely sincere. Who knew? (There was another point where he was talking about one of the first feminist meetings being held in a Wesleyan church. I almost shouted "Woooo!")
Getting to the point of this whole post (Point?)--He began to tick off this really dire list of how many mothers feel-- depressed, unappreciated, tired, etc. And right when every mother in the room felt like jumping off a bridge he smiled and said "Welcome to Mother's Day at Cypress!" A portion of the sermon was a lesson to men on how to love a woman based on Jesus' love for the church. He pulled this off quite well too. Finally he finished with an encouragement to mothers. Even if they feel unappreciated and overworked they should know what great value God places on them, how important and elevated a position Jesus gave women.
I kind of tune out on these little pep talks. I always think they're for the wimpy women. But then I thought of some marriages I know and how unappreciated the women are and other marriages where there's nothing but fighting and feelings of insecurity. I realized that I don't struggle with these feelings ONLY because my husband ROCKS! He never lets me forget I'm appreciated. He never makes my role all about cooking and cleaning and child rearing. He truly treats me like an equal. He's not out of it and in his own little world where his wife and family never figure into the equation. He's always trying to nurture me to live up to my potential. He's never competitive or petty or critical. He totally laughs at me when I call myself a feminist though. I don't work and don't want to, I homeschool and I don't let him help with housework. But when he treats me with so much dignity I don't need to be the bitchy, competitive nag that is often associated with the word feminist. And my kids are always saying thank you and I love you and giving me these random hugs. (I know we haven't reached the teenage years so I'm living in a nice dream world I'm sure.) But I'm really ridiculously blessed. My family is really too good to me.
So this feels like a pretty good Mother's Day even though I'm not celebrating it. (I'm still going to be a hypocrite and call my mom though.)
Saturday, May 13, 2006
Knock, Knock . . .
Moira is really into bad riddles and knock, knock jokes. It all started when my mom was doing some spring cleaning and gave us a bunch of old books that used to belong to me and my sister. Unfortunately-- for me then and now--my sister really liked joke books, and one of those old joke books made it back to our house. Heather made me suffer through horrible jokes as a child and she makes me suffer now through my own child. It's too diabolical really.
Then we went to Wendy's with Ben's grandparents (their favorite place to take people when they're in town) and a set of joke cards came with the kid's meal. WHY!?! Even worse--they're portable. They came in a little case with a clip to attach to your backpack, etc. So tonight Moira took these to church to torture the adults and delight her little friends. (Actually, the adults seemed to be enjoying themselves too. We grown-ups love that clever feeling we get from guessing the all too obvious answers to these jokes. It's sad really.)
Now, usually these riddles and things just make me groan and roll my eyes, but there are a choice few that actually crack me up. I will share my favorites--
(This one is dedicated to Mandy.)
Why is a dragon big, green and scaly?
Because if it was small, white and smooth it'd be a tic-tac.
Now most normal people don't think that's funny, but for some reason I remember laughing my head off with Mandy and (I think) Anne Marie over that one. I think it came in one of Mandy's magazines.
Here's my ultimate favorite knock, knock joke.
Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Netanya.
Netanya-who?
Benjamin Netanyahu--get it? Oh well, maybe you're not a sucker for Israeli prime minister jokes like I am.
Here's one Moira told me tonight that had me rolling.
What did the Zero say to the Eight?
Nice belt.
Ha!
I'm sure there are a few more but I'm going to stop before I start getting hate mail.
Then we went to Wendy's with Ben's grandparents (their favorite place to take people when they're in town) and a set of joke cards came with the kid's meal. WHY!?! Even worse--they're portable. They came in a little case with a clip to attach to your backpack, etc. So tonight Moira took these to church to torture the adults and delight her little friends. (Actually, the adults seemed to be enjoying themselves too. We grown-ups love that clever feeling we get from guessing the all too obvious answers to these jokes. It's sad really.)
Now, usually these riddles and things just make me groan and roll my eyes, but there are a choice few that actually crack me up. I will share my favorites--
(This one is dedicated to Mandy.)
Why is a dragon big, green and scaly?
Because if it was small, white and smooth it'd be a tic-tac.
Now most normal people don't think that's funny, but for some reason I remember laughing my head off with Mandy and (I think) Anne Marie over that one. I think it came in one of Mandy's magazines.
Here's my ultimate favorite knock, knock joke.
Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Netanya.
Netanya-who?
Benjamin Netanyahu--get it? Oh well, maybe you're not a sucker for Israeli prime minister jokes like I am.
Here's one Moira told me tonight that had me rolling.
What did the Zero say to the Eight?
Nice belt.
Ha!
I'm sure there are a few more but I'm going to stop before I start getting hate mail.
There's No Stopping Her!
I made a mistake. Some of you may be shocked by this (or maybe just shocked that I'm admitting it) but it's true. And this is my mistake--I bought Stella a 40 foot tie for the backyardish area.
If you've never seen our dog Stella you might not realize what a mistake this was. She's huge. We frequently hear comments like "That's not a dog, that's a horse" when we take her out. A cross between a German Shepherd and a Collie, she's pretty but she's also pretty enormous and intimidating to a lot of people. She wouldn't hurt a fly, but with a dog this big many individuals don't want to get close enough to find out. She's also extremely hyper when she gets around new people. I thought she would grow out of it, but she's five now and nothing's changed. So just imagine this huge hyper beast running to you at full speed and then give that huge beast a 40 foot range and you can see why the neighborhood has a new name for terror.
40 ft. It didn't seem so big in the store. I wanted to give her a little more room to run when she was outside with us. Most of the ties were 30 feet so I assumed that's the length we had bought 5 years ago. Then I got it home and realized our old one must have been 15 or 20 feet at the max. Oops. Ben had to rub in my ignorance and say, "40 feet! That's enormous! That's like 13 meters! What were you thinking?" For some reason 13 meters sounds a lot longer than 40 feet.
Now she can go around the side of our apartments and disappear to harass people out of sight. Now she can reach the next set of apartments in front of us and go around those poor people's wall and stare at their cats in the window. Now there is no possible way that anyone can cut through the grass when she's out. Before if they hugged the wall they could stay just out of reach. No longer. They must deal with the Stella-meister.
I feel bad, but I'm not about to return it. She is technically restrained so it's not against the law or anything. And would it really hurt people to take some time out of their day to pet my dog? Granted, she really needs a bath and she's annoyingly hyper, but come on--Give the dog some love! I'm hoping people will eventually catch on and start bringing steaks and stuff to throw down and distract her like they do with all those doberman guard dogs in the movies. It would really cut down on our dog food bill.
So, I'm sorry, my neighbor friends! I'll bake you some cookies to make up for it.
(Oh, and I just remembered that saying Stella wouldn't hurt a fly isn't exactly a literal truth. You can check out Ben's post about that one.)
If you've never seen our dog Stella you might not realize what a mistake this was. She's huge. We frequently hear comments like "That's not a dog, that's a horse" when we take her out. A cross between a German Shepherd and a Collie, she's pretty but she's also pretty enormous and intimidating to a lot of people. She wouldn't hurt a fly, but with a dog this big many individuals don't want to get close enough to find out. She's also extremely hyper when she gets around new people. I thought she would grow out of it, but she's five now and nothing's changed. So just imagine this huge hyper beast running to you at full speed and then give that huge beast a 40 foot range and you can see why the neighborhood has a new name for terror.
40 ft. It didn't seem so big in the store. I wanted to give her a little more room to run when she was outside with us. Most of the ties were 30 feet so I assumed that's the length we had bought 5 years ago. Then I got it home and realized our old one must have been 15 or 20 feet at the max. Oops. Ben had to rub in my ignorance and say, "40 feet! That's enormous! That's like 13 meters! What were you thinking?" For some reason 13 meters sounds a lot longer than 40 feet.
Now she can go around the side of our apartments and disappear to harass people out of sight. Now she can reach the next set of apartments in front of us and go around those poor people's wall and stare at their cats in the window. Now there is no possible way that anyone can cut through the grass when she's out. Before if they hugged the wall they could stay just out of reach. No longer. They must deal with the Stella-meister.
I feel bad, but I'm not about to return it. She is technically restrained so it's not against the law or anything. And would it really hurt people to take some time out of their day to pet my dog? Granted, she really needs a bath and she's annoyingly hyper, but come on--Give the dog some love! I'm hoping people will eventually catch on and start bringing steaks and stuff to throw down and distract her like they do with all those doberman guard dogs in the movies. It would really cut down on our dog food bill.
So, I'm sorry, my neighbor friends! I'll bake you some cookies to make up for it.
(Oh, and I just remembered that saying Stella wouldn't hurt a fly isn't exactly a literal truth. You can check out Ben's post about that one.)
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Is She Cool Or What?
Lauren brought Joan Baez to mind so I went looking for a particular album (that I listened to once upon a time before Ben had so many anti-Joan hissy fits that I returned it to the library without even copying it illegally) and found this picture.
When I'm old I wanna be cool like Joan. Due to certain rhythmic handicaps I would not be able to actually play a guitar, but I'm gonna carry one around for sure.
I'm in a definite Joan Baez mood now. I can't wait until Ben gets home. I'm going to serenade him with Sweet Sir Galahad and watch him freak out.
Ooo, he's home! Gotta go!
Ewey
Evie has an affinity for Sandra Boynton books. They come home from the library and float around the house, get lost under beds, and rack up inexcusable fines. I just forked over 60 cents to the library for Doggies and it's really not that great of a book.Right now we have Blue Hat, Green Hat. A nice book, funny for the kids, funny for me. I just have a weakness for confused turkeys putting on clothes in all the wrong ways.
But this is a problem. Once you start putting clothes on animals they start to look naked without them. The animals on the cover look just fine in their little hats. I have no problem with that. But after going through the book seeing animals wear more and more clothing on each page and you suddenly see this on page 8--
it's more than a little disturbing.I'm shocked every time. Nothing prepares me for the naked elephant in socks. Couldn't she have put socks in the beginning before the shirts and the pants and the jackets?
I don't like it--not one bit.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Black Hole Citizenship
Reading Kerri's post (or rather Kerri's post about another Kerri's post) this morning got me thinking about citizenship.
In high school I really began to question citizenship. I'd always been taught that the U.S. was a Christian country and Republicans were the Christian party trying to preserve the values of this great nation. The more you learn about U.S. history, however, the more the idea of the U.S. as God's oasis in a sea of immoral, pagan countries becomes absurd.
This realization turned into anti-citizenship. Por ejemplo, there was a required government test in one of our history classes in high school. The top scoring male and female students were to go on to do something-or-other and there was the potential for a scholarship, blah, blah, blah. Well, somehow I got the alpha female position even though I know I guessed on most of the answers. However, there was also an essay portion of the test--"What does the American flag mean to you?" HA! The first thing that popped into my mind was Native-American genocide. My essay wasn't that nice or thorough. I blew it off and in the process royally pissed off my teacher who gave me a hysterical lecture that actually made me cry. I walked off without letting her finish her speech. (Which was my typical response to any discipline from my parents as well. It works. The farther away you get the less you hear. Handy.)
Anyway, this position continued until just a few years ago. I forget the actual issue that brought out my dormant citizenship and made me register to vote. But I still was very down on the U.S. and didn't consider myself patriotic in the least. I hated the U.S., American culture and everything. I really thought that out of all the countries in the world we were the worst.
But lately that's begun to change. I still think the West is like a huge black hole in the center of the world. We just suck everything in--all the products, all the energy, all the wealth--and not much comes back out. We want and we get and we screw the Have-Nots because we've already forgotten they exist. But being the Haves can work to the world's advantage too. I feel like in the last year I've really woken up to the fact that I'm a citizen of the most powerful country in the world. That's gotta count for something. I'm a citizen of one of the richest countries in the world. That's gotta count for something too. As a citizen of the Black Hole I could, if joined with other citizens, turn that around, help to get some of the wealth back out, help to take in less of the world's products and energy. And, like the other Kerri's post, I think that being a patriot is more like wanting to help the U.S. change the world for good rather than being 100% pro-U.S. interests no matter what.
I've also changed my views on culture after having so much contact with folks from the Indian Subcontinent. Sure, I still don't like much of our culture, but I'm learning to embrace a good deal of it. I like being able to call my husband by his first name and tell him exactly what I think and feel. I like that he doesn't think he's so high and mighty that he doesn't have to listen to me. I like that he wants to hear what I say and think and feel. I like pizza! I like the fact that we put cheese on almost everything! I like that women can go to school and vote and speak out and wear what we want (even though that means I can't look at a lot of people). I like that so many religions can coexist within one country without killing each other. I like that in the typical strip-mall you have restaurants from at least 3 different countries.
So I'm going to start saying things like "Proud To Be An American" and "My Blood Runs Red, White and Blue"! Okay, no I won't. But I'm ready to proudly use my U.S. citizenship to be a better global citizen and I'm going to do it while simultaneously eating my pizza with extra cheese and boycotting Starbucks and Nestle. Hallelujah!
In high school I really began to question citizenship. I'd always been taught that the U.S. was a Christian country and Republicans were the Christian party trying to preserve the values of this great nation. The more you learn about U.S. history, however, the more the idea of the U.S. as God's oasis in a sea of immoral, pagan countries becomes absurd.
This realization turned into anti-citizenship. Por ejemplo, there was a required government test in one of our history classes in high school. The top scoring male and female students were to go on to do something-or-other and there was the potential for a scholarship, blah, blah, blah. Well, somehow I got the alpha female position even though I know I guessed on most of the answers. However, there was also an essay portion of the test--"What does the American flag mean to you?" HA! The first thing that popped into my mind was Native-American genocide. My essay wasn't that nice or thorough. I blew it off and in the process royally pissed off my teacher who gave me a hysterical lecture that actually made me cry. I walked off without letting her finish her speech. (Which was my typical response to any discipline from my parents as well. It works. The farther away you get the less you hear. Handy.)
Anyway, this position continued until just a few years ago. I forget the actual issue that brought out my dormant citizenship and made me register to vote. But I still was very down on the U.S. and didn't consider myself patriotic in the least. I hated the U.S., American culture and everything. I really thought that out of all the countries in the world we were the worst.
But lately that's begun to change. I still think the West is like a huge black hole in the center of the world. We just suck everything in--all the products, all the energy, all the wealth--and not much comes back out. We want and we get and we screw the Have-Nots because we've already forgotten they exist. But being the Haves can work to the world's advantage too. I feel like in the last year I've really woken up to the fact that I'm a citizen of the most powerful country in the world. That's gotta count for something. I'm a citizen of one of the richest countries in the world. That's gotta count for something too. As a citizen of the Black Hole I could, if joined with other citizens, turn that around, help to get some of the wealth back out, help to take in less of the world's products and energy. And, like the other Kerri's post, I think that being a patriot is more like wanting to help the U.S. change the world for good rather than being 100% pro-U.S. interests no matter what.
I've also changed my views on culture after having so much contact with folks from the Indian Subcontinent. Sure, I still don't like much of our culture, but I'm learning to embrace a good deal of it. I like being able to call my husband by his first name and tell him exactly what I think and feel. I like that he doesn't think he's so high and mighty that he doesn't have to listen to me. I like that he wants to hear what I say and think and feel. I like pizza! I like the fact that we put cheese on almost everything! I like that women can go to school and vote and speak out and wear what we want (even though that means I can't look at a lot of people). I like that so many religions can coexist within one country without killing each other. I like that in the typical strip-mall you have restaurants from at least 3 different countries.
So I'm going to start saying things like "Proud To Be An American" and "My Blood Runs Red, White and Blue"! Okay, no I won't. But I'm ready to proudly use my U.S. citizenship to be a better global citizen and I'm going to do it while simultaneously eating my pizza with extra cheese and boycotting Starbucks and Nestle. Hallelujah!
Quick Personal Pet Peeve Rant
I was looking in the christianbook.com catalog again. This really needs to stop. It only ends up making me angry. But due to my habit of indulging my sick fascination with mainstream Christian-ish culture, I always come back. Well, after this post I am going to throw the darn thing out. (That will only help until the next one comes in the mail. I think Ben bought a Bible in Hebrew or something from them and now we are blessed until eternity with their catalogs.)
Anyway, this title caught my eye: Yahweh Reigns! 36 Messianic Songs of Praise & Worship
AAAAARRRRGGGGG!
I don't know if anyone in the Christian world cares about this BUT the name of God is never actually spelled out in the Bible. The tetragrammaton as it is known is merely YHWH. The word is a combination of sounds that could really never be pronounced. Hmmm. Wonder why that is? MAYBE it's because it wasn't meant to be spoken! And MAYBE that has a little to do with RESPECT, a concept unknown in mainstream Christianity.
There's a lot of mystery surrounding the name of God in Jewish culture. Some say that the one who knows and speaks it will have incredible power. In much Jewish writing even God isn't written out fully. It appears as G-d. Instead of speaking the name of God, Adonai (Lord) or Hashem (The Name) is put in instead. But Christians just wantonly throw out what they assume to be the filled out version of YHWH like it's no biggie. Just sayin' the name of God 'cause God's my buddy.
I think it's some perversely backward attempt at being authentic and getting back to the Hebrew when they say Yahweh. (Even putting it in print is yucky to me so I'll stop from now on.) "Aren't I smart? I can say the name of God! I know Hebrew goshdarnit! I have the right to say the name of God because Jesus came and died for my sins and now God and I are best friends and I don't need to show any respect now."
God is not your buddy. God is King and Creator of the Universe. Show some respect.
Anyway, this title caught my eye: Yahweh Reigns! 36 Messianic Songs of Praise & Worship
AAAAARRRRGGGGG!
I don't know if anyone in the Christian world cares about this BUT the name of God is never actually spelled out in the Bible. The tetragrammaton as it is known is merely YHWH. The word is a combination of sounds that could really never be pronounced. Hmmm. Wonder why that is? MAYBE it's because it wasn't meant to be spoken! And MAYBE that has a little to do with RESPECT, a concept unknown in mainstream Christianity.
There's a lot of mystery surrounding the name of God in Jewish culture. Some say that the one who knows and speaks it will have incredible power. In much Jewish writing even God isn't written out fully. It appears as G-d. Instead of speaking the name of God, Adonai (Lord) or Hashem (The Name) is put in instead. But Christians just wantonly throw out what they assume to be the filled out version of YHWH like it's no biggie. Just sayin' the name of God 'cause God's my buddy.
I think it's some perversely backward attempt at being authentic and getting back to the Hebrew when they say Yahweh. (Even putting it in print is yucky to me so I'll stop from now on.) "Aren't I smart? I can say the name of God! I know Hebrew goshdarnit! I have the right to say the name of God because Jesus came and died for my sins and now God and I are best friends and I don't need to show any respect now."
God is not your buddy. God is King and Creator of the Universe. Show some respect.
Monday, May 08, 2006
Dar Williams Extraordinaire
As I said before, our trip to the library last week yielded a Dar Williams cd, The Beauty of the Rain. Sadly, I haven't kept up with Dar since her brilliant Mortal City album. For some reason I gave my cd to my sister without making a copy of it and Dar Williams fell off my radar screen.My sister being the incredible person that she is also recognized the genius of Dar Williams. That album was so good that it became a litmus test for my sister and her friends. If you didn't "get" that album and think it was absolutely fantastic in every way then you weren't going to "get" her. Anyone who didn't like it was immediately placed under suspicion. It was really a good indicator after all. All her close friends loved it and fringe pseudo friends didn't. Weird.
I was first introduced to Dar Williams by Ben's brother, Sam. A friend had given him a mix with two songs from Mortal City on it and he played it while the family was on vacation in the Outer Banks. As soon as Ben and I got back home we bought that cd. It was money well spent. If you like folk music, you will love Dar Williams. If you have a sense of humor, you will love Dar Williams. If you have any soul at all, you will love Dar Williams. Okay, that was going a bit too far, but, obviously, I think everyone should check out her music--especially Mortal City.
I will bore you once again with written out lyrics. I know lyrics without music are somewhat tedious but some lyrics are just so good they don't need a melody. (But if you just have to have one, you can listen to this clip.)
I give you The Pointless, Yet Poignant, Crisis Of A Co-ed
I'm not a leader, i'm not a left-wing rhetoric mobilizing force of one,
But there was a time way back, many years ago in college, don't laugh,
But I thought I was a radical, I ran the hemp Liberation League with my
boyfriend,
It was true love, with a common cause, and besides that, he was a Sagittarius.
We used to say that our love was like hemp rope, three times as strong as the rope that you buy domestically,
And we would bond in the face of oppression from big business and the deans,
But I knew there was a problem, every time the group would meet everyone would
light up,
That made it difficult to discuss glaucoma and human rights, not to mention
chemotherapy.
Well sometimes, life gives us lessons sent in ridiculous packaging,
And so I found him in the arms of a Student Against the Treacherous Use of Fur,
And he gave no apology, he just turned to me, stoned out to the edge of
oblivion,
He didn't pull up the sheets and I think he even smiled as he said to me,
--Well, I guess our dreams went up in smoke.
--And I said, No, our dreams went up in dreams,
you stupid pothead,
And another thing, what kind of a name is Students Against the Treacherous Use of Fur?
Fur is already dead, and besides, a name like that doesn't make a good acronym.
I am older now, I know the rise and gradual fall of a daily victory.
And I still write to my senators, saying they should legalize cannabis,
And I should know, cause I am a horticulturist, I have a husband and two
children out in Lexington, Mass.
And my ex-boyfriend can't tell me I've sold out,
because he's in a cult
and he's not allowed to talk to me.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Just Because I'm Feeling Cranky And Cynical
I saw these in the Christianbook.com catalog. I am not making these up.
What can a scrawny once-neglected sheep dog teach us as Christians? The nature of trust, obedience and God's healing power for starters! Readers of all ages will love this heartwarming, true-life parable from the author of A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23. A great gift for animal lovers! 73 pages, hardcover from Nelson.
Special agent Will Coburn and his NCIS team are investigating the death of a serviceman near the Korean DMZ. When Will discovers that the body doesn't match the identity of the murdered soldier---and that one of his own colleagues is wearing a wire---he wonders whom he can trust. Will he turn to God for the answers? 350 pages, softcover from Tyndale.
Dazzling fireworks turn deadly when infected fleas intermingle with the ashes and rain down on unsuspecting New Yorkers. Millions will die unless FBI agent Nathan Baldwin, terrorism expert Macy Armistead, and elderly Li Ming can stop a Japanese biological-weapons specialist and his Syrian terrorist cohorts. The clock's ticking---will disease, death, and devastation be averted? 368 pages, hardcover from WestBow.
What can a scrawny once-neglected sheep dog teach us as Christians? The nature of trust, obedience and God's healing power for starters! Readers of all ages will love this heartwarming, true-life parable from the author of A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23. A great gift for animal lovers! 73 pages, hardcover from Nelson.
Special agent Will Coburn and his NCIS team are investigating the death of a serviceman near the Korean DMZ. When Will discovers that the body doesn't match the identity of the murdered soldier---and that one of his own colleagues is wearing a wire---he wonders whom he can trust. Will he turn to God for the answers? 350 pages, softcover from Tyndale.
Dazzling fireworks turn deadly when infected fleas intermingle with the ashes and rain down on unsuspecting New Yorkers. Millions will die unless FBI agent Nathan Baldwin, terrorism expert Macy Armistead, and elderly Li Ming can stop a Japanese biological-weapons specialist and his Syrian terrorist cohorts. The clock's ticking---will disease, death, and devastation be averted? 368 pages, hardcover from WestBow.
Lisa Loeb, I Am Through With You!
We went to the library again last night and loaded up on lift-the-flap board books for Evie, interesting art work books for Moira and dvds and cds for us. While I was reading to Evie, Ben was off looking through the cds.
(This is off the point, but there was this really loud woman there with her kid and I kept thinking, HELLO, you are in a library! I don't even talk that loud in a grocery store. Then her daughter starts talking to her and, surprise, she was really loud too. Her mom told her to use her library voice and then continued to speak really loudly herself. It was annoying and yet so funny it was worth it.)
Anyway, Ben came back with some cds for me. 1. The Very Best of Lisa Loeb 2. The Beauty of the Rain by Dar Williams.
Hmm, Lisa Loeb. I've been a ridiculous optimist when it comes to Lisa Loeb. She had one good song--Stay. I liked Reality Bites, I liked Stay, I thought I would like Lisa Loeb. But her album that came out after her Stay fame was, shall we say, bad. A local radio station had a give-away contest for her album. Usually you had to be caller # whatever and answer a challenging bit of trivia to get a cd from them. But when it came to the Lisa Loeb cd--well, the first person who called in and told them what number came after 8 could have it. Sad.
But I remained an optimist. She was just starting out, everybody, well, a lot of people have bad albums. So when Ben saw The Very Best Of Lisa Loeb he thought maybe there will be a few songs I liked. And he loves me so he grabbed it.
Well, it sucked. If this is the very best Lisa Loeb has to offer, I am moving on for good. No more optimism, no more hope, no more!
I think I will save my Dar Williams cd post for another time, but I'll let you in on a little secret--it was better than Lisa Loeb's. Listening to paint dry which I'm not sure is possible but even if it wasn't it would be better than listening to Lisa Loeb. You strung me along, Lisa! I thought you had talent, but you tricked me. I will not forget this.
(This is off the point, but there was this really loud woman there with her kid and I kept thinking, HELLO, you are in a library! I don't even talk that loud in a grocery store. Then her daughter starts talking to her and, surprise, she was really loud too. Her mom told her to use her library voice and then continued to speak really loudly herself. It was annoying and yet so funny it was worth it.)
Anyway, Ben came back with some cds for me. 1. The Very Best of Lisa Loeb 2. The Beauty of the Rain by Dar Williams.
Hmm, Lisa Loeb. I've been a ridiculous optimist when it comes to Lisa Loeb. She had one good song--Stay. I liked Reality Bites, I liked Stay, I thought I would like Lisa Loeb. But her album that came out after her Stay fame was, shall we say, bad. A local radio station had a give-away contest for her album. Usually you had to be caller # whatever and answer a challenging bit of trivia to get a cd from them. But when it came to the Lisa Loeb cd--well, the first person who called in and told them what number came after 8 could have it. Sad.
But I remained an optimist. She was just starting out, everybody, well, a lot of people have bad albums. So when Ben saw The Very Best Of Lisa Loeb he thought maybe there will be a few songs I liked. And he loves me so he grabbed it.
Well, it sucked. If this is the very best Lisa Loeb has to offer, I am moving on for good. No more optimism, no more hope, no more!
I think I will save my Dar Williams cd post for another time, but I'll let you in on a little secret--it was better than Lisa Loeb's. Listening to paint dry which I'm not sure is possible but even if it wasn't it would be better than listening to Lisa Loeb. You strung me along, Lisa! I thought you had talent, but you tricked me. I will not forget this.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
What Would Freud Say?
Another night of bizarre dreams. Don't you hate it when people go on and on about their dreams. I want to smack them and say, "Why are you wasting my time? None of this really happened!"
But, of course, I was talking about other people's dreams, not my own. So I'm going to go on and on and annoy you now.
The only reason I mention them is that they are so vivid and busy. Most dreams have bizarre things juxtaposed, but these are so clear and detailed and epic. There's no main theme per se, but it's definitely one day with the scenes connected--not like most dreams that jump all over the place with no thread to tie them together. I don't usually have dreams like this and now with a second night of them I'm wondering if they mean something. So I invite you to help me sort out my subconscious.
In a single dream all these things happened--
1. Ben was pregnant. REALLY pregnant. He was having labor pains and we were counting contractions and the intervals between them.
2. We were also helping Ben's dad check in at the airport. He had packed a huge kettle and some other things in plastic wrap and some pieces of pie had accidentally been wrapped inside along with the luggage. (I think it was a gooey kind of pecan pie, if that matters) It ultimately didn't fit through the airport luggage processor thing and the plastic wrap tore leaving pots and pans and pie all over the floor. Ben's dad was also embarrassed because there were barcodes on everyone's luggage boxes with their destination printed on them. His said Bob Jones--that's why he was embarrassed.
3. I met a woman at the airport/space program building. At first we were arguing and then we became friends. She looked a little like Annie Lennox. I helped her out and told her her nose ring was all bent. It looked like a paper clip she just stuck in her nose. She thanked me and went off to fix it grumbling about how it wasn't the right size blah, blah, blah.
4. Later back at our huge house that we shared with a ton of other people an undercover drug bust was going on outside. I was lying in bed with the window open and saw what was going on. But the bust went bad and someone was shot. I was still in bed wondering if I should just pretend to be asleep so they wouldn't think I saw anything. Then I saw the red scope light from a gun going around my room and decided we should all get out of there. The rest of the dream that red scope light would appear out of no where and people would start discussing how the house was brick and we had nothing to worry about.
5. My sister's boyfriend was an actor starring in a big budget movie. (Totally not like him--he's a chemical engineer in real life.) They were filming and he was outside in a toll booth acting out a scene. He did fine (better than most ex-chemical engineers I'm sure) but he wasn't great or anything. I was wondering how people like that make it into movies in the first place.
6. Then a friend from the past showed up wearing very odd goggles saying he'd just been to the eye doctor. He came because his wife was having a baby too. (Wife! How boring--my HUSBAND was having a baby!) I said something cheesy like, "Well, those things will just help you see your new baby better. Congratulations!"
There were a lot of other odd ball things thrown in there but I've already bored you enough. What could all this possibly mean?
But, of course, I was talking about other people's dreams, not my own. So I'm going to go on and on and annoy you now.
The only reason I mention them is that they are so vivid and busy. Most dreams have bizarre things juxtaposed, but these are so clear and detailed and epic. There's no main theme per se, but it's definitely one day with the scenes connected--not like most dreams that jump all over the place with no thread to tie them together. I don't usually have dreams like this and now with a second night of them I'm wondering if they mean something. So I invite you to help me sort out my subconscious.
In a single dream all these things happened--
1. Ben was pregnant. REALLY pregnant. He was having labor pains and we were counting contractions and the intervals between them.
2. We were also helping Ben's dad check in at the airport. He had packed a huge kettle and some other things in plastic wrap and some pieces of pie had accidentally been wrapped inside along with the luggage. (I think it was a gooey kind of pecan pie, if that matters) It ultimately didn't fit through the airport luggage processor thing and the plastic wrap tore leaving pots and pans and pie all over the floor. Ben's dad was also embarrassed because there were barcodes on everyone's luggage boxes with their destination printed on them. His said Bob Jones--that's why he was embarrassed.
3. I met a woman at the airport/space program building. At first we were arguing and then we became friends. She looked a little like Annie Lennox. I helped her out and told her her nose ring was all bent. It looked like a paper clip she just stuck in her nose. She thanked me and went off to fix it grumbling about how it wasn't the right size blah, blah, blah.
4. Later back at our huge house that we shared with a ton of other people an undercover drug bust was going on outside. I was lying in bed with the window open and saw what was going on. But the bust went bad and someone was shot. I was still in bed wondering if I should just pretend to be asleep so they wouldn't think I saw anything. Then I saw the red scope light from a gun going around my room and decided we should all get out of there. The rest of the dream that red scope light would appear out of no where and people would start discussing how the house was brick and we had nothing to worry about.
5. My sister's boyfriend was an actor starring in a big budget movie. (Totally not like him--he's a chemical engineer in real life.) They were filming and he was outside in a toll booth acting out a scene. He did fine (better than most ex-chemical engineers I'm sure) but he wasn't great or anything. I was wondering how people like that make it into movies in the first place.
6. Then a friend from the past showed up wearing very odd goggles saying he'd just been to the eye doctor. He came because his wife was having a baby too. (Wife! How boring--my HUSBAND was having a baby!) I said something cheesy like, "Well, those things will just help you see your new baby better. Congratulations!"
There were a lot of other odd ball things thrown in there but I've already bored you enough. What could all this possibly mean?
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
It Was Just Too Tempting
I took Kerri's, I took Brad's and I just couldn't help myself. So here it is. I realized too late that many of the questions aren't in my blog so if you don't score well, don't feel bad. I'm just SO mysterious. And don't accuse me of being shallow, I already wrote the president once today (and it wasn't a love letter--JESSICA I know what you're thinking--it was about important stuff, okay)and I'm just taking a break from my new life as an activist. And that's okay. It is. I don't feel guilty about this. I don't. And you can't make me feel guilty about this. Nope, it's not going to work. I'm COMPLETELY at ease about the whole thing. Really.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
This Is Probably Really Disrespectful, But The Pope Should Not Be Scary
I'm sure he's a really nice guy and this is obviously causing him a great deal of embarrassment.
Please?Stupid Revelation
We threw out some leftover popcorn and bread today for the birds to eat. We immediately had hordes of sparrows and starlings all over our porch. That'’s when I had the following profound thoughts.
Isn'’t it interesting that birds don'’t question the food they'’re given? If birds thought like people do they'’d all be standing around staring suspiciously at that popcorn and having the following conversation.
Starling 1: "“Why'’d they throw it out here?"”
Sparrow: "“I dunno, you think somethin'’s wrong with it?"
Starling 2: "“Yeah, guys, it'’s probably poisoned."”
Starling 1: "“I mean, what'’s a person'’s motivation for throwing stuff like this out here? What do they get out of it?"
Starling 2: "“I have this feeling we'’re being watched."
Sparrow: "“Yeah, let'’s get out of here!"
Of course, if they treated every food item like that, they would starve to death. Which, come to think of it, is probably why birds don'’t think like that.
. . . Yep.
Isn'’t it interesting that birds don'’t question the food they'’re given? If birds thought like people do they'’d all be standing around staring suspiciously at that popcorn and having the following conversation.
Starling 1: "“Why'’d they throw it out here?"”
Sparrow: "“I dunno, you think somethin'’s wrong with it?"
Starling 2: "“Yeah, guys, it'’s probably poisoned."”
Starling 1: "“I mean, what'’s a person'’s motivation for throwing stuff like this out here? What do they get out of it?"
Starling 2: "“I have this feeling we'’re being watched."
Sparrow: "“Yeah, let'’s get out of here!"
Of course, if they treated every food item like that, they would starve to death. Which, come to think of it, is probably why birds don'’t think like that.
. . . Yep.
Something To Get Us Beyond The Unmentionable
I have nothing to say, but I really need to put a little distance between those last two posts and the here and now SO--
I thought I'd share about Moira's little wall of fame. Actually, I don't know what to call it. Yesterday she just pinned some pictures of people she admires on her wall next to her big map and her Burrowing Owls poster. And this is who made the first cut--
I thought I'd share about Moira's little wall of fame. Actually, I don't know what to call it. Yesterday she just pinned some pictures of people she admires on her wall next to her big map and her Burrowing Owls poster. And this is who made the first cut--
When I was a kid I thought Cyndi Lauper was cool.
Monday, May 01, 2006
Deathly
Being obsessed with the Magnolia soundtrack right now, I've been listening to this song a lot. I thought it really summed up the night I had with George and I went to get the lyrics. Oddly enough, there was not one but two ads about G.W. on the page. It was a sign. So here's Deathly by Aimee Mann and I promise never to mention this whole horrible episode again.
Now that I've met you
would you object to
never seeing each other again
cause I can't afford to
climb aboard you
no one's got that much ego to spend
So don't work your stuff
because I've got troubles enough
no, don't pick on me
when one act of kindness could be
deathly
deathly
deathly
definitely
Cause I'm just a problem
for you to solve and
watch dissolve in the heat of your charm
but what will you do when
you run it through and
you can't get me back on the farm
So don't work your stuff
because I've got troubles enough
no, don't pick on me
when one act of kindness could be
deathly
deathly
deathly
definitely
You're on your honor
cause I'm a goner
and you haven't even begun
so do me a favor
if I should waver
be my savior
and get out the gun
Just don't work your stuff
because I've got troubles enough
no, don't pick on me
when one act of kindness could be
deathly
deathly
deathly
definitely
Now that I've met you
would you object to
never seeing each other again
cause I can't afford to
climb aboard you
no one's got that much ego to spend
So don't work your stuff
because I've got troubles enough
no, don't pick on me
when one act of kindness could be
deathly
deathly
deathly
definitely
Cause I'm just a problem
for you to solve and
watch dissolve in the heat of your charm
but what will you do when
you run it through and
you can't get me back on the farm
So don't work your stuff
because I've got troubles enough
no, don't pick on me
when one act of kindness could be
deathly
deathly
deathly
definitely
You're on your honor
cause I'm a goner
and you haven't even begun
so do me a favor
if I should waver
be my savior
and get out the gun
Just don't work your stuff
because I've got troubles enough
no, don't pick on me
when one act of kindness could be
deathly
deathly
deathly
definitely
Too Horrible To Speak Of
Last night was a heck of a night. I had the weirdest dreams. They involved bad guys and sports cars that squirted fake blood to scare people and ice and sea lions and scientists dragging around copious amounts of blubber and a multiracial group of interns that I suspected really didn't like each other and me chewing a huge wad of gum that suddenly became tasteless and having to find a trash can in a room full of TVs where Don Knotts was the salesman.
But the real kicker in this horrible series of weird-outs was when I cheated on Ben (nay, the entire civilized world) and had an affair with President Bush.
I need a psychiatrist.
But the real kicker in this horrible series of weird-outs was when I cheated on Ben (nay, the entire civilized world) and had an affair with President Bush.
I need a psychiatrist.
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