And so very sorry at the same time.
But trying to use willpower to overcome the apathetic sort of sadness that accompanies depression is like a person with no arms trying to punch themselves until their hands grow back. A fundamental component of the plan is missing and it isn't going to work.
Friday, October 28, 2011
And that, dear readers, is why I love baseball.
I went to sleep when it was still 7-4 Rangers and I'm excited about what happened last night. Greenie's description made it for me: (paraphrased)"Bottom of the 9th, two on, two out...there were the Rangers, one strike away from a World Series championship, when David "Error in the 4th allowing a run to score" Freese knocks in a triple to tie the game (the Rangers were up by two before that). All the Rangers let go of the railing, deflated, and get ready to play more baseball."
To the 10th, where my favorite player of the series, Josh Hamilton (recovering addict and guy in the wrong place at the most horrible of times who threw a ball in the stands to a kid whose father reached too far over the railing to catch it and died of injuries therefrom) hit a two-run homer to put the Rangers ahead. The Cards get one back, but once more, they are down to their last strike. As the Rangers get ready to rush the field, Berkman bats in the tying run.
Enough excitement for you? There is no clock in this game; no prevent defense; no taking a knee. You have to execute every play to force every out. David Freese, with a walk-off homer in the 11th, bought his team 27 more. There is more baseball tonight, and I don't have to get up for work tomorrow.
To the 10th, where my favorite player of the series, Josh Hamilton (recovering addict and guy in the wrong place at the most horrible of times who threw a ball in the stands to a kid whose father reached too far over the railing to catch it and died of injuries therefrom) hit a two-run homer to put the Rangers ahead. The Cards get one back, but once more, they are down to their last strike. As the Rangers get ready to rush the field, Berkman bats in the tying run.
Enough excitement for you? There is no clock in this game; no prevent defense; no taking a knee. You have to execute every play to force every out. David Freese, with a walk-off homer in the 11th, bought his team 27 more. There is more baseball tonight, and I don't have to get up for work tomorrow.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Just another double entendre in the workplace...
Probably shouldn't post while I can still feel the heat of my embarassment, but it's also part anger, and dammit, I shouldn't have to feel this way in any situation, let alone in a meeting at work.
We have team members in another city, and we have weekly meetings with video enabled so everyone can "be in the same room". Which gives us all the opportunity to see ourselves on TV. Today I was noting how far out my highlights have grown and made the comment that the only person who cared about the top of my head was my boyfriend, who is almost a foot taller than I am.
But a couple of the guys in the room stopped hearing me after "...my boyfriend" because they were laughing hysterically, obviously envisioning a sexual scenario in which my boyfriend would be seeing the top of my head. Their laughter was contagious, and I was horrified.
The thing is, there was a day when I would have had a come-back for that and I wouldn't have cared that we were in a team meeting, or that our boss was there with us. But as I learn more about rape culture and the patriarchy, I'm seeing that "harmless" jokes like that A) aren't appropriate in most situations and B) immediately objectify the woman being joked about.
Or am I just embarassed that I didn't think of a come-back quickly enough to use it - to take the power away from them? We joke around in our team meetings all the time. Is it just because I have a sexual assault involving fellatio in my past, or is it the bigger issue of sexual jokes at the expense of a woman? And would it be okay if I wasn't embarassed by it? Is it okay for our sexuality to be hinted at at work? In the company of only certain people? I don't consider sex "dirty" and am comfortable with the fact that I live in an animal body, but does that mean it's always okay to make jokes about it?
We have team members in another city, and we have weekly meetings with video enabled so everyone can "be in the same room". Which gives us all the opportunity to see ourselves on TV. Today I was noting how far out my highlights have grown and made the comment that the only person who cared about the top of my head was my boyfriend, who is almost a foot taller than I am.
But a couple of the guys in the room stopped hearing me after "...my boyfriend" because they were laughing hysterically, obviously envisioning a sexual scenario in which my boyfriend would be seeing the top of my head. Their laughter was contagious, and I was horrified.
The thing is, there was a day when I would have had a come-back for that and I wouldn't have cared that we were in a team meeting, or that our boss was there with us. But as I learn more about rape culture and the patriarchy, I'm seeing that "harmless" jokes like that A) aren't appropriate in most situations and B) immediately objectify the woman being joked about.
Or am I just embarassed that I didn't think of a come-back quickly enough to use it - to take the power away from them? We joke around in our team meetings all the time. Is it just because I have a sexual assault involving fellatio in my past, or is it the bigger issue of sexual jokes at the expense of a woman? And would it be okay if I wasn't embarassed by it? Is it okay for our sexuality to be hinted at at work? In the company of only certain people? I don't consider sex "dirty" and am comfortable with the fact that I live in an animal body, but does that mean it's always okay to make jokes about it?
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Child abuse/neglect in the US
Over the past 10 years, more than 20,000 American children are believed to have been killed in their own homes by family members. That is nearly four times the number of US soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Every five hours, a child dies from abuse or neglect in the US.
...
I can't find words to follow those statistics. I had no idea it was that bad.
I love reading US news in other countries' media. This article is from the BBC; it asks some tough questions about how children are likely to fare being related to the state in which they're born. Texas and Vermont are contrasted - Texas is a low tax, low service state; Vermont is high tax/high service. According to the BBC, children in Texas are"... four times more likely to be incarcerated, and nearly twice as likely to die from abuse and neglect" as children in Vermont.
Of course, it's impossible to tease apart all of the factors at play in determining the likely fate of each American child. However, this article notes that, unlike the US, "...other rich nations have social policies that provide child care, universal health insurance, pre-school, parental leave and visiting nurses to virtually all in need."
At this point, I'd love to be able to present statistics on abortion rights in each state and proclaim that Texas is only interested in children before they are born. But it's not that simple. A summary of abortion regulations by state shows Texas to have less restrictive policies than most. I could try to use the Republican control of the Texas legislature as proof that the state's ultimate goal is to outlaw abortion altogether.
But, honestly? Who benefits from pointing fingers and assigning blame? Not the kids who are living with the abuse and neglect. The fact remains that we, as a nation, are failing our children, and at an alarming rate. When will we divert the funds necessary to fight that war?
Every five hours, a child dies from abuse or neglect in the US.
...
I can't find words to follow those statistics. I had no idea it was that bad.
I love reading US news in other countries' media. This article is from the BBC; it asks some tough questions about how children are likely to fare being related to the state in which they're born. Texas and Vermont are contrasted - Texas is a low tax, low service state; Vermont is high tax/high service. According to the BBC, children in Texas are"... four times more likely to be incarcerated, and nearly twice as likely to die from abuse and neglect" as children in Vermont.
Of course, it's impossible to tease apart all of the factors at play in determining the likely fate of each American child. However, this article notes that, unlike the US, "...other rich nations have social policies that provide child care, universal health insurance, pre-school, parental leave and visiting nurses to virtually all in need."
At this point, I'd love to be able to present statistics on abortion rights in each state and proclaim that Texas is only interested in children before they are born. But it's not that simple. A summary of abortion regulations by state shows Texas to have less restrictive policies than most. I could try to use the Republican control of the Texas legislature as proof that the state's ultimate goal is to outlaw abortion altogether.
But, honestly? Who benefits from pointing fingers and assigning blame? Not the kids who are living with the abuse and neglect. The fact remains that we, as a nation, are failing our children, and at an alarming rate. When will we divert the funds necessary to fight that war?
Friday, October 07, 2011
Has Steve Jobs changed your life?
I just had a somewhat heated conversation with some coworkers that started with the death of Steve Jobs. I work in IT, so it wasn't completely off the wall when one person admitted she'd teared up when she heard the news, but then she added, "He changed the way we live our lives!"
"He changed the way rich people live their lives, maybe," I responded. She asked, "Do you have an MP3 player?"
"Nope."
Our other coworker chimed in: "Are you saying I'm rich because I have an MP3 player?" Yes, I answered, and offered to show her where her yearly salary falls on the continuum of yearly salaries drawn by the planet's population. Anyone concerned with how to store their music collection is rich, I stated.
"I consider my iPod a mental health device," she laughed.
"Anyone who has the leisure time to worry about their mental health is rich," I countered. Am I being too extreme asking privileged people to recognize their privilege? How can anyone be a citizen of the world - forget the world; just this country, in the middle of this economic free-fall, and not understand just how rich we are? To be sitting on my butt in a climate-controlled building (horrific fluorescent lights and all), working on a computer, looking forward to driving my car to my home where I have food and furniture and clothing...sure, I wish I had more space for more stuff and there are plenty of big-ticket things I hope someday to be able to afford (including an iPad), but I am not confused about how wealthy I already am. I am grateful every day for what I have.
Steve Jobs did make personal computers ubiquitous in our culture, no matter what OS they happen to run, so yes, he did change my life. But I am a rich person. There are billions of people who will never touch a device Steve Jobs helped to create, and their lives are no less valuable than mine.
"He changed the way rich people live their lives, maybe," I responded. She asked, "Do you have an MP3 player?"
"Nope."
Our other coworker chimed in: "Are you saying I'm rich because I have an MP3 player?" Yes, I answered, and offered to show her where her yearly salary falls on the continuum of yearly salaries drawn by the planet's population. Anyone concerned with how to store their music collection is rich, I stated.
"I consider my iPod a mental health device," she laughed.
"Anyone who has the leisure time to worry about their mental health is rich," I countered. Am I being too extreme asking privileged people to recognize their privilege? How can anyone be a citizen of the world - forget the world; just this country, in the middle of this economic free-fall, and not understand just how rich we are? To be sitting on my butt in a climate-controlled building (horrific fluorescent lights and all), working on a computer, looking forward to driving my car to my home where I have food and furniture and clothing...sure, I wish I had more space for more stuff and there are plenty of big-ticket things I hope someday to be able to afford (including an iPad), but I am not confused about how wealthy I already am. I am grateful every day for what I have.
Steve Jobs did make personal computers ubiquitous in our culture, no matter what OS they happen to run, so yes, he did change my life. But I am a rich person. There are billions of people who will never touch a device Steve Jobs helped to create, and their lives are no less valuable than mine.
Thursday, October 06, 2011
Oops...I Did It Again
After swearing I would never refinance, I'm refinancing. The woman was straightforward in answering all the questions that I had (at the what must have been excruciating for her pace of one per day) - Are there upfront costs? Closing costs? Penalty for early payoff? Can I see an amortization of the proposed loan next to my current one? This is a fixed rate, right? Why is my current balance so different from the starting balance on the proposed loan? Ad nauseum.
All of the answers were the right ones - I get a slightly lower monthly bill, I pay less interest over the life of the loan, and my house will be paid off more quickly. Plus equity will accrue more quickly, which makes my renovation dreams slightly more likely to come true.
There's got to be a catch here somewhere. I hope I can afford whatever it turns out to be.
All of the answers were the right ones - I get a slightly lower monthly bill, I pay less interest over the life of the loan, and my house will be paid off more quickly. Plus equity will accrue more quickly, which makes my renovation dreams slightly more likely to come true.
There's got to be a catch here somewhere. I hope I can afford whatever it turns out to be.
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
A post about grief and love and abiding
On August 23rd, one of my dearest friends lost her best friend - her brother - to suicide. Trav was many things - a son, a father, a lacrosse player...and an addict. He struggled with demons from the time he was a teenager and never could completely make his peace with them. I stood close to his family and my friend and just let them ache...because it was the only thing I could do.
Then I started reading about Katie Granju's son who died after a severe beating and a drug overdose. Henry was a son, a brother, an artist, and an addict. I've read Katie's blog documenting her grief and followed it down the rabbit hole to the blogs of other parents who have lost children. And I've tried to comprehend the pain that these parents have to live with for the rest of their lives.
There are many reasons I don't have children and I know that no matter how much I love the children in my life, I can't know the love their parents feel. I can't know what it is to have part of you taken away forever and still have to breathe afterward. The raw emotion is profound and humbling. I am not a parent, but I am someone's baby, even at 42 years old.
This post I linked in the title of this one is about families grieving for their lost members and remembering, and about how to go one living in the world, and about being compassionate with each other. Every single person you meet was a baby once, and that baby was vulnerable. That baby needed care and attention and love.
And still does.
May I learn to be willing to extend it.
Then I started reading about Katie Granju's son who died after a severe beating and a drug overdose. Henry was a son, a brother, an artist, and an addict. I've read Katie's blog documenting her grief and followed it down the rabbit hole to the blogs of other parents who have lost children. And I've tried to comprehend the pain that these parents have to live with for the rest of their lives.
There are many reasons I don't have children and I know that no matter how much I love the children in my life, I can't know the love their parents feel. I can't know what it is to have part of you taken away forever and still have to breathe afterward. The raw emotion is profound and humbling. I am not a parent, but I am someone's baby, even at 42 years old.
This post I linked in the title of this one is about families grieving for their lost members and remembering, and about how to go one living in the world, and about being compassionate with each other. Every single person you meet was a baby once, and that baby was vulnerable. That baby needed care and attention and love.
And still does.
May I learn to be willing to extend it.
Glad Kanelbullens Dag!
Sayeth Wikipedia: In Sweden, the country of its presumed origin, the cinnamon roll takes the name of kanelbulle (literally: "cinnamon bun") and on October 4, "Kanelbullens Dag" (Cinnamon Bun Day) is celebrated in Sweden.
I can't celebrate this holiday enough.
Monday, October 03, 2011
162 games later...
The Nats were only half a game under .500 and the Os didn't lose 100, so all in all, I guess it could have been worse.
Friday, September 16, 2011
I don't get me
I've been reading Mamapundit for a few days now. I found her blog through Babble Voices, which I found through Amalah, who I've been reading since Snarkywood, which I can't link because it doesn't exist anymore.
Anyway.
I've been reading Katie Granju's blogs about her life, including the assault & overdose, hospitalization, and death of her son Henry, and her fight to bring the people responsible for the assault and for providing the drugs that helped kill him to justice. (There are lots of places to read Henry's story; google his name or search his mama's blog.) It's an incredibly wrenching story...not being a parent, I can't even imagine what it must be to have one of your children die. And to have people make unfeeling, ignorant assumptions about the worth of the life of a drug addict...I'm absolutely stymied by Katie's strength.
Yet it's the plight of this poor seal that makes me want to sob. Seriously. Really, me?
Anyway.
I've been reading Katie Granju's blogs about her life, including the assault & overdose, hospitalization, and death of her son Henry, and her fight to bring the people responsible for the assault and for providing the drugs that helped kill him to justice. (There are lots of places to read Henry's story; google his name or search his mama's blog.) It's an incredibly wrenching story...not being a parent, I can't even imagine what it must be to have one of your children die. And to have people make unfeeling, ignorant assumptions about the worth of the life of a drug addict...I'm absolutely stymied by Katie's strength.
Yet it's the plight of this poor seal that makes me want to sob. Seriously. Really, me?
I am NOT ready for this weather
I am no fan of cold weather to begin with, but I figured out yesterday that what I really dislike is changeable weather. I like Maryland summers; they can be relied upon to be hot in the morning, really hot during the day, and still pretty darn warm at night. Despite the fact that we are past Labor Day, I have four technical days of summer left, and am not ready for what greeted me as I left work yesterday.
Cold. Rain. Uck. (Is that the siren of the wahmbulance I hear?) I was goosebumpy walking to my car - I had no idea the temperature was going to drop ten degrees (and why is is that the ten degrees between 70 and 60 seem so much more extreme than the ten between 80 and 90? And let's not even talk about the ten between 60 and 50) or that the wind was picking up or that it was going to rain.
Wow. If this is my biggest problem this week, I am in great shape. This is why I can never work myself up into a really good whiny rant in print. My typing takes so long that I'm able to reflect on what I've written and give myself the "Really? That's what you're so unhappy over?" bit until I shame myself back into gratitude.
Now, Boehner's insistence that we give tax cuts and deregulation a try, since obviously Obama's ideas aren't fixing the economy? Oh, that I can get riled up behind. What do you think screwed the economy so badly to begin with, Einstein? You think those poverty numbers happened in two years? At least I'm pretty sure Boehner knows he's full of **it. Some of those Tea Party members really believe what they say, and that is really scary.
Cold. Rain. Uck. (Is that the siren of the wahmbulance I hear?) I was goosebumpy walking to my car - I had no idea the temperature was going to drop ten degrees (and why is is that the ten degrees between 70 and 60 seem so much more extreme than the ten between 80 and 90? And let's not even talk about the ten between 60 and 50) or that the wind was picking up or that it was going to rain.
Wow. If this is my biggest problem this week, I am in great shape. This is why I can never work myself up into a really good whiny rant in print. My typing takes so long that I'm able to reflect on what I've written and give myself the "Really? That's what you're so unhappy over?" bit until I shame myself back into gratitude.
Now, Boehner's insistence that we give tax cuts and deregulation a try, since obviously Obama's ideas aren't fixing the economy? Oh, that I can get riled up behind. What do you think screwed the economy so badly to begin with, Einstein? You think those poverty numbers happened in two years? At least I'm pretty sure Boehner knows he's full of **it. Some of those Tea Party members really believe what they say, and that is really scary.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Got the Time
I just realized that, not only are three of the clocks I look at most every day set to the wrong time, they're all set to different wrong times.
My bedside clock is about half an hour fast, my microwave clock (the one I use to know when to get out the door) is two minutes fast, and my car clock is about four minutes fast. It's a wonder I ever know what time it is.
My bedside clock is about half an hour fast, my microwave clock (the one I use to know when to get out the door) is two minutes fast, and my car clock is about four minutes fast. It's a wonder I ever know what time it is.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Let it be known that...
...nothing available for purchase in a retail establishment in my lifetime counts as "vintage".
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Five Movies I Drop Everything To Watch
I forget that when I don't have anything pressing to write about - and even when I do - there are always reliable go-tos. Specifically, other people's blogs. I believe I've already ripped off borrowed from a couple. Today's post idea comes courtesy of The Pioneer Woman, whom I've just started reading, so congratulations, me, on making it to 2008, Internet Time.
What was my point? Oh yeah - five movies I drop everything to watch.
1. The Philadelphia Story
Let's just ignore that whole misogynistic gender-role nonsense and get on with the good stuff, okay? "CK Dexter Haven! OH! CK DEXTER HAAAAAAVEN!" Greatest scene ever featuring both Cary Grant and James Stewart. Did you know the burp and response was ad-libbed? Perfection. And the lines: "The right time to make up your mind about people is never;" "Doggone it CK Dexter Haven! Either I'm gonna sock you or you're gonna sock me;" "We all go haywire at times and if we don't, maybe we ought to." Love.
2. Little Women
I'm cheating a little here, since I'll accept the Katharine Hepburn as Jo version, but prefer the Elizabeth Taylor as Amy one. Sidebar: How did I not know that was Janet Leigh? Oh yeah - I've never actually seen Psycho. Anyway, I re-read the book every few years and will always watch the movie. Mom gave me a copy of the when I was young and didn't understand why a person might wear one glove and carry the other - I'm still working on that one, truthfully. And I still have the book.
3. Gone With the Wind
Carol Burnett was my introduction to the green-velvet-curtains-as-dress scene, but I learned quickly to appreciate the original. (Burnett introduced me to Mildred Pierce, too; I really need to see her version again now that I'm more familiar with the movie.) The length of GWTW is a bonus - no matter where you come in, there's at least another hour to watch. The scene with the horse-drawn wagon under the bridge always gets me, not to mention the idea of eating before one goes to a barbecue. As God is my witness, I'll think about that tomorrow.
4. Moonstruck
"Rich as Roosevelt" has made a home in my regular speech, as has "you have such a head for knowing." I love this movie down to the shade of lipstick Loretta wears to the opera. Olympia Dukakis is brilliant as Rose, and for once, Nicolas Cage's overacting actually works for his character. I just wish more people knew what I was talking about when I yell for Chrissy to bring me the big knife.
5. Casablanca
It took me years to understand why Ilsa leaving with Victor was the right ending and I'm still not sure I completely agree. This movie's got it all - a great cast, great cinematography, great dialogue, and a great story. Even though you've heard the most famous lines thousands of times, they still work, and the expression on Rick's face while he stands on the train, looking for Ilsa and holding the rain-smeared letter, is a heart-wrencher.
On a different day, my top five might include Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, 12 Monkeys (I'm still trying to figure it all out, not to mention my favorite Brad Pitt role), or Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Basically, sit me down in front of Turner Classic Movies and I'm probably content.
What was my point? Oh yeah - five movies I drop everything to watch.
1. The Philadelphia Story
Let's just ignore that whole misogynistic gender-role nonsense and get on with the good stuff, okay? "CK Dexter Haven! OH! CK DEXTER HAAAAAAVEN!" Greatest scene ever featuring both Cary Grant and James Stewart. Did you know the burp and response was ad-libbed? Perfection. And the lines: "The right time to make up your mind about people is never;" "Doggone it CK Dexter Haven! Either I'm gonna sock you or you're gonna sock me;" "We all go haywire at times and if we don't, maybe we ought to." Love.
2. Little Women
I'm cheating a little here, since I'll accept the Katharine Hepburn as Jo version, but prefer the Elizabeth Taylor as Amy one. Sidebar: How did I not know that was Janet Leigh? Oh yeah - I've never actually seen Psycho. Anyway, I re-read the book every few years and will always watch the movie. Mom gave me a copy of the when I was young and didn't understand why a person might wear one glove and carry the other - I'm still working on that one, truthfully. And I still have the book.
3. Gone With the Wind
Carol Burnett was my introduction to the green-velvet-curtains-as-dress scene, but I learned quickly to appreciate the original. (Burnett introduced me to Mildred Pierce, too; I really need to see her version again now that I'm more familiar with the movie.) The length of GWTW is a bonus - no matter where you come in, there's at least another hour to watch. The scene with the horse-drawn wagon under the bridge always gets me, not to mention the idea of eating before one goes to a barbecue. As God is my witness, I'll think about that tomorrow.
4. Moonstruck
"Rich as Roosevelt" has made a home in my regular speech, as has "you have such a head for knowing." I love this movie down to the shade of lipstick Loretta wears to the opera. Olympia Dukakis is brilliant as Rose, and for once, Nicolas Cage's overacting actually works for his character. I just wish more people knew what I was talking about when I yell for Chrissy to bring me the big knife.
5. Casablanca
It took me years to understand why Ilsa leaving with Victor was the right ending and I'm still not sure I completely agree. This movie's got it all - a great cast, great cinematography, great dialogue, and a great story. Even though you've heard the most famous lines thousands of times, they still work, and the expression on Rick's face while he stands on the train, looking for Ilsa and holding the rain-smeared letter, is a heart-wrencher.
On a different day, my top five might include Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, 12 Monkeys (I'm still trying to figure it all out, not to mention my favorite Brad Pitt role), or Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Basically, sit me down in front of Turner Classic Movies and I'm probably content.
Friday, July 22, 2011
What is feminism?
"Ignoring male rape not only neglects men, it also harms women by reinforcing a viewpoint that equates 'female' with 'victim', thus hampering our ability to see women as strong and empowered. In the same way, silence about male victims reinforces unhealthy expectations about men and their supposed invulnerability."
According to Sars, "feminism" is what it says it is in the dictionary: n (1895) 1 : the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes. I'm sure that includes the knowing that women are deserving of the same respect, as humans, that men are.
What about the knowing that people come in many and varied flavors and those don't fall down easily drawn lines of distinction? The knowing that who you love and how you love are between you and your lovers, because that you love is where God works? Because it isn't true that we're all the same underneath. The point is that we are all different and deserve to be treated with respect anyway. We all come from the same creator, whatever you believe that creator to be. Love makes us all precious.
According to Sars, "feminism" is what it says it is in the dictionary: n (1895) 1 : the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes. I'm sure that includes the knowing that women are deserving of the same respect, as humans, that men are.
What about the knowing that people come in many and varied flavors and those don't fall down easily drawn lines of distinction? The knowing that who you love and how you love are between you and your lovers, because that you love is where God works? Because it isn't true that we're all the same underneath. The point is that we are all different and deserve to be treated with respect anyway. We all come from the same creator, whatever you believe that creator to be. Love makes us all precious.
An illustration of our national debt
Our national debt, in convenient graphic format. That "enough for a great vacation" and "approximately one year of work for the average human on earth" describe the same amount of money is the ultimate WTF.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Flashback: Help Ferndale Early Education!
I got a message from the teacher who proposed this project - it was completed! Yay! Thanks to all who helped - no donation's too small (well, I don't know if they process charges under $1, but you get my point) and every child helped is a victory.
One Cat. Cheap.
It is not a good week over here Treeville. My aging cat, who has both thyroid and kidney issues, has decided that there shall be no sleeping while he is awake. I try to cut him slack, knowing it was me who decided to give him his medicine crushed up in baby food to avoid shoving it down his throat. However, it was never my intention to do it at four in the morning, which is when he's decided he's ready for his treat.
I also have to give him leeway as far as his living conditions go - he is not a cat who likes change, you see, and things have changed dramatically in his house. There's another person living in it. The cat loves this other person, but shows it by making a nuisance of himself ALL. THE. TIME. Especially when we, the humans, are trying to sleep.
I could just close the bedroom door - I'd have to rehang it first - but A) he's already vocal and B) did I mention his kidneys? He pees occasionally in places that are not litterboxes. It doesn't have to happen a lot for the memory to linger, if you know what I mean, and we've already got one room that's off-limits until the carpet is ripped out. I fear his retribution, is what I'm saying.
He's a terrorist, basically. Skilled in chemical warfare. He wins.
And I'm exhausted. I actually took a couple of hours off work yesterday to go home and take a nap before yoga. A nap. Before yoga. Which was a good thing, since we did downward dog into plank into upward dog back to downward dog at least 10 times. I don't think I would have made it without collapsing if not for that nap.
Tonight I'm saving strength for a conversation I'm not only not looking forward to, but have to drive 40 miles each way to have. Then there's the organizing and purging of stuff to allow for the aforementioned carpet removal this weekend - this weekend that I was supposed to be at the beach. That's my second beach trip this summer denied, if you're counting. And it's supposed to be over 100 degrees all weekend. Picture a face with two eyes and a straight line for a mouth right here.
I mean, I was looking forward to being away and being at the beach and spending time with my friend's family, but mostly? Three blessed nights of sleeping without the cat. I may go spend a night at Mom's just to get some rest.
I also have to give him leeway as far as his living conditions go - he is not a cat who likes change, you see, and things have changed dramatically in his house. There's another person living in it. The cat loves this other person, but shows it by making a nuisance of himself ALL. THE. TIME. Especially when we, the humans, are trying to sleep.
I could just close the bedroom door - I'd have to rehang it first - but A) he's already vocal and B) did I mention his kidneys? He pees occasionally in places that are not litterboxes. It doesn't have to happen a lot for the memory to linger, if you know what I mean, and we've already got one room that's off-limits until the carpet is ripped out. I fear his retribution, is what I'm saying.
He's a terrorist, basically. Skilled in chemical warfare. He wins.
And I'm exhausted. I actually took a couple of hours off work yesterday to go home and take a nap before yoga. A nap. Before yoga. Which was a good thing, since we did downward dog into plank into upward dog back to downward dog at least 10 times. I don't think I would have made it without collapsing if not for that nap.
Tonight I'm saving strength for a conversation I'm not only not looking forward to, but have to drive 40 miles each way to have. Then there's the organizing and purging of stuff to allow for the aforementioned carpet removal this weekend - this weekend that I was supposed to be at the beach. That's my second beach trip this summer denied, if you're counting. And it's supposed to be over 100 degrees all weekend. Picture a face with two eyes and a straight line for a mouth right here.
I mean, I was looking forward to being away and being at the beach and spending time with my friend's family, but mostly? Three blessed nights of sleeping without the cat. I may go spend a night at Mom's just to get some rest.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
We drink their milkshake
Later, when the America wanted to snake the UNOCAL pipeline out of Turkmenistan, through Afghanistan to Pakistan, millions of dollars were given to the Taliban to let the America build the biggest sipping straw ever.
Henry Rollins might just be the sexiest, scariest man on Earth.
Henry Rollins: I am angry and curious. These two things propel me forward. I come from the minimum-wage working world. I have no illusions as to where I should have ended up. I have really nothing to lose, and so I go.
Yep.
Henry Rollins might just be the sexiest, scariest man on Earth.
Henry Rollins: I am angry and curious. These two things propel me forward. I come from the minimum-wage working world. I have no illusions as to where I should have ended up. I have really nothing to lose, and so I go.
Yep.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
From The AV Club
I’ve always thought that cynicism is a disease of the young, contrary to what other people seem to think. I think when you’re young, it seems clever to be cynical, but once you get to about 40 or something, you start to realize that actually, things are even worse than you ever expected, so if you’re going to make it through this life, you actually have to be more positive.
Set List: Joe Jackson
Monday, July 11, 2011
I should have been there!
I come from the same generation as Heavy Metal Parking Lot, the much-bootlegged documentary on drunk and stoned metal fans tailgating before a 1986 Judas Priest/Dokken show in Maryland.
I was on my way there. The guy that drove us didn't know where he was going and I wasn't paying attention 'til I saw the Woodrow Wilson Memorial Bridge. We got there in the middle of Dokken's set.
I am still bitter.
But. One of the best pictures of me ever taken was taken that night, before we left. (I don't have it on this 'puter, but will post it when I can get to it.)
I was on my way there. The guy that drove us didn't know where he was going and I wasn't paying attention 'til I saw the Woodrow Wilson Memorial Bridge. We got there in the middle of Dokken's set.
I am still bitter.
But. One of the best pictures of me ever taken was taken that night, before we left. (I don't have it on this 'puter, but will post it when I can get to it.)
The warm-up post before the wedding post (No, not MY wedding)
Prince Wills looks way too much like my friend B. I'm going to be surprised one day when I see B with his actual wife, as I sort of imagine B as next to next in line for the British throne and vacationing on the left side of the pond.
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Oh, Orrin...
"I hear how they're so caring for the poor and so forth," Hatch said in remarks on the Senate floor Wednesday, in reference to Democrats. "The poor need jobs! And they also need to share some of the responsibility."
Really, Senator Hatch? Really? Does the phrase "you can't get blood from a stone" mean anything to you?
You know what, Senator? I understand your position. You were the first in your family to go to college and you worked your way up the occupational ladder until you got to the Senate. You've worked hard for what you have; why should you be asked to give more back?
And these poor people who won't get jobs - such laziness! I mean, everyone should be willing to work for less than a living wage, no matter how many children they have. Work two jobs if you have to!
I'm sure the fact that you are white and male didn't hurt you as you applied to college and for each job you've held. Not to mention that you were smart enough to avoid criminal charges in your youth. To avoid being diagnosed - or worse, actually afflicted - with a disease or disability.
You weren't born to old money, sir? So you were born on second base, then, and got batted in? Because make no mistake, Senator Hatch. Not everyone is born with the privilege from which you've benefited. What privilege? The privilege of being white and male.
Maybe poker is more your game. It was this analogy that really made me understand privilege, so perhaps it will work for you. Jack and John are playing poker. Jack doesn't know it, but the rules for John are different than the rules for Jack. It's very subtle and very hard to pick out, but over time, Jack has amassed a pile of money while John has much less. It's not that John is a bad player. The rules are different for John, and it's much harder for John to keep up. So hard, in fact, that John starts to wonder if the rules are holding him back.
After hours of playing this way, the dealer finally says "Hey! This isn't fair! You guys can't really compete with each other unless you're playing by the same rules." Jack, being a fair-minded man, says fine. Let's play by the same rules. Now we have a level playing field." John, also fair-minded, says "No, we don't. If you agree that the rules robbed me of the chance to keep pace with you, you must also agree that it's only fair to share what you've won so far with me."
Jack leans back in his chair. "But this is mine! I won it. We'll start playing by fair rules now, but it's not my fault the rules worked in my favor before. Why should I be penalized?"
You aren't being penalized, Mr. Hatch. You have more than you could ever possibly need. Neither you nor your children nor their children will ever have to worry about being one paycheck away from homelessness. They will never have to wear used clothing. They will never have to take showers at the Y. They will never know what it means to literally not know where their next meal is coming from.
But that's what happens to people who don't have your privilege. Whether it's the color of their skin, their gender, their background, or their physical ability, many people can't just get jobs. (I don't know whether you've noticed, but there aren't a hell of a lot of jobs out there. Trickle-down economics hasn't.) They can't keep up.
But you can, can't you? And it isn't your fault that the rules favored you. You just happened to be born in the right skin. Congratulations.
Wouldn't it be nice if you shared some of your good fortune?
There be Dragons here!
Finally! A Dance with Dragons is here! Now all I have to do is wait for it to come out in paperback.
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Help Ferndale Early Education!
This is a project to which I donated back in April...there are three days and $123 left before the project expires. Every dollar helps!
Friday, July 01, 2011
Speaking of Clarence Clemons
There's a reason that whenever I'm asked to fill in my location for an online profile, I enter "Baltimore, Jack". (Apparently I didn't do it on my profile here, which is obviously the exception that proves the rule [where's the eye-rolling smilie when you need it?].)
(It's been a weird week. Unanticipated explosions of temper and a shake-up amongst some of the people I treasure most in the world have left me a little post-stressy. We're all better without whatever ramblings I may have forced out of myself this week.)
(It's been a weird week. Unanticipated explosions of temper and a shake-up amongst some of the people I treasure most in the world have left me a little post-stressy. We're all better without whatever ramblings I may have forced out of myself this week.)
Friday, June 24, 2011
Can anyone explain why...
...when Bruce Springsteen sings "You ain't a beauty but hey, you're alright, and that's alright with me", I swoon, but when Sinatra sings "Your looks are laughable, unphotographable", I roll my eyes and skip to the next song?
(Yes, I'm doing my posthumous-Big Man review of my Springsteen catalogue. I can't imagine how Springsteen is going to handle the sax parts when he tours again. I don't see him going all-acoustic forever.)
(Yes, I'm doing my posthumous-Big Man review of my Springsteen catalogue. I can't imagine how Springsteen is going to handle the sax parts when he tours again. I don't see him going all-acoustic forever.)
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Fuck you very much, Gretchen Rossi
I do it to myself, I know. No one comes to my house and turns on The Real Housewives of Anywhere - I'm the one who was looking for something to have playing as noise to fall asleep by. And it was Lost Footage! Wherein Gretchen confesses to having had a bulemia problem in high school/college. Cut to the reunion show couches and Andy asking follow-ups, including the $64 Billion question: What was your highest weight?
Gretchen "ummm"s for a second and then tries to buffer the blow with "I know this may not be high to a lot of people" and I'm expecting to hear 170 maybe, which is five pounds under what I weighed in January when I started my South Beach/calorie-counting campaign. No, not a lot for some people. Then she says "140", and my eyeballs start to bleed. 140 is ten pounds fewer than I weigh now after carrying on said campaign for five fucking months.
Alexis jumps to her defense - "And you're how tall? Five three?" and I don't even remember what the answer was. I just remember it not being sufficiently different from my height to justify thinking that 140 would look significantly larger on her frame.
It's not Gretchen's fault, really, that she thinks 140 is so disgustingly huge that she had to force herself to purge whatever she'd just eaten. Little girls and grown women are bombarded by messages telling us how we're supposed to look and what we need to change to achieve that look hundreds of times every day. It's my fault for expecting any kind of sane message from that source.
And if I choose to believe Andy Cohen asked that question to underscore how incredibly out-of-touch these people are, that's between me and me.
Gretchen "ummm"s for a second and then tries to buffer the blow with "I know this may not be high to a lot of people" and I'm expecting to hear 170 maybe, which is five pounds under what I weighed in January when I started my South Beach/calorie-counting campaign. No, not a lot for some people. Then she says "140", and my eyeballs start to bleed. 140 is ten pounds fewer than I weigh now after carrying on said campaign for five fucking months.
Alexis jumps to her defense - "And you're how tall? Five three?" and I don't even remember what the answer was. I just remember it not being sufficiently different from my height to justify thinking that 140 would look significantly larger on her frame.
It's not Gretchen's fault, really, that she thinks 140 is so disgustingly huge that she had to force herself to purge whatever she'd just eaten. Little girls and grown women are bombarded by messages telling us how we're supposed to look and what we need to change to achieve that look hundreds of times every day. It's my fault for expecting any kind of sane message from that source.
And if I choose to believe Andy Cohen asked that question to underscore how incredibly out-of-touch these people are, that's between me and me.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Brave Girls' Club
I don't want to come across as superior or dismissive, but...(and we all know what everything after that is) after reading things like A Thousand Splendid Suns and A Thousand Sisters (I didn't notice the "thousand" theme until just this minute), it's hard to think of deleting Facebook from one's smartphone as brave.
And yet, we all have our own stories, and no one deserves to suffer in any degree. My strapping a band of sharpened wire to my thigh doesn't help any women who are risking rape when they collect water for their children; at the same time, I can live without a phone with a data plan and sponsor one of those same Congolese women.
It's impossible to compare pain; we all only have the frame of reference we've achieved. I guess I just wish there was a little more perspective, maybe? Awareness of one's privilege? Let's be real - any problem that can be solved with collages and affirmations is still a "first world" problem. It would be nice if Afghan women could "Secret" themselves into empowerment.
I understand being the change I want to see...the trick is finding out what that change looks like. Yes, be compassionate. Yes, be kind. But when it comes to the disparity of opportunity between my world and the worlds of the developing nations...don't Western people have a right to their feelings? Trapped is trapped, no matter what materials the prison walls are built from. Am I except from pain because I have indoor running water and electricity?
Maybe some acknowledgement of the privilege is what I want to see. The wannabe brave girls have enough money for the course and the materials...that right there would feed a lot of hungry kids.
Maybe it's just the excessive navel-gazing. They keep telling me that the way to stop feeling sorry for myself is to help someone else. Maybe that's what's missing - giving it back. Yes, feel joyful and fulfilled in your skin, but then help someone else feel good in theirs. The hero's quest isn't just about the destination, but about coming home to show others how to survive their own quests. At least, that's what I remember. Time to reread Joseph Campbell.
Thank the Maker for the Internets.
- Maricopa Center for Learning and Instruction
Their summary of the hero's quest has 17 steps, the 15th of which is "The Crossing of the Return Threshold: The trick in returning is to retain the wisdom gained on the quest, to integrate that wisdom into a human life, and then maybe figure out how to share the wisdom with the rest of the world. This is usually extremely difficult."
Well, this has wandered away from what I thought was my point, and maybe for the good. If figuring it all out was easy, somebody would've done it by now.
And yet, we all have our own stories, and no one deserves to suffer in any degree. My strapping a band of sharpened wire to my thigh doesn't help any women who are risking rape when they collect water for their children; at the same time, I can live without a phone with a data plan and sponsor one of those same Congolese women.
It's impossible to compare pain; we all only have the frame of reference we've achieved. I guess I just wish there was a little more perspective, maybe? Awareness of one's privilege? Let's be real - any problem that can be solved with collages and affirmations is still a "first world" problem. It would be nice if Afghan women could "Secret" themselves into empowerment.
I understand being the change I want to see...the trick is finding out what that change looks like. Yes, be compassionate. Yes, be kind. But when it comes to the disparity of opportunity between my world and the worlds of the developing nations...don't Western people have a right to their feelings? Trapped is trapped, no matter what materials the prison walls are built from. Am I except from pain because I have indoor running water and electricity?
Maybe some acknowledgement of the privilege is what I want to see. The wannabe brave girls have enough money for the course and the materials...that right there would feed a lot of hungry kids.
Maybe it's just the excessive navel-gazing. They keep telling me that the way to stop feeling sorry for myself is to help someone else. Maybe that's what's missing - giving it back. Yes, feel joyful and fulfilled in your skin, but then help someone else feel good in theirs. The hero's quest isn't just about the destination, but about coming home to show others how to survive their own quests. At least, that's what I remember. Time to reread Joseph Campbell.
Thank the Maker for the Internets.
In his book The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell writes about "The Adventure of the Hero:"
"The whole sense of the ubiquitous myth of the hero's passage is that it shall serve as a general pattern for men and women, wherever they may stand along the scale. Therefore it is formulated in the broadest terms. The individual has only to discover his own position with reference to this general human formula, and let it then assist him past his restricting walls. Who and where are his ogres? Those are the reflections of the unsolved enigmas of his own humanity. What are his ideals? Those are the symptoms of his grasp of life." -- (Campbell, 121)
- Maricopa Center for Learning and Instruction
Their summary of the hero's quest has 17 steps, the 15th of which is "The Crossing of the Return Threshold: The trick in returning is to retain the wisdom gained on the quest, to integrate that wisdom into a human life, and then maybe figure out how to share the wisdom with the rest of the world. This is usually extremely difficult."
Well, this has wandered away from what I thought was my point, and maybe for the good. If figuring it all out was easy, somebody would've done it by now.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The world according to Charles Barkley
“There are only five real jobs in the world: teacher, fireman, policeman, doctor, and someone working in the service. Everybody else should just chill out and enjoy life.”
So it is written.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I've let this lay unattended for far too long.
I had a great idea for a post a few days ago but completely failed to log in and post it, so I'm stuck with a question I stole from The AV Club: What is (are) your most re-read book(s)?
My first thougth is to be all, "Well, I've read Anna Karenina twice," which is true, but my memory is so bad that I doubt I could give you an outline of the important plot points. But I know I love reading it, and I wrote a paper on it in grad school that got a good grade, so.
My second thought is that it has to be Little Women, although I may be getting confused between how many times I've read it and how many times I've watched different versions of the movie. Despite never completely buying the way Laurie could just "Psych! I really love your little sister" like that; despite not understanding why a person would wear one glove and carry the other...time with the Marches is always warm and well spent.
Once I'd scanned the whole AV article (there were far too many words to read each one), yeah, that's pretty much gotta be it. The olde Hitchhiker's Guide. It never fails to make me laugh out loud, especially when I read the quotes I still use on a regular basis ("To summarize the summary of the summary, people are a problem").
I don't even remember why I first read THGTTG - I was never a science fiction kid despite a mom who watched Star Trek (TOS) compulsively. (Star Trek just got on my nerves: they left paradise three times? Whatever with them.) I know I was familiar with it when I was a freshman in high school (because of things that were happening in my life at the same time) but have no idea how it originally introduced itself to my consciousness. I only know that I'm SO grateful it did: not only did it give me credibility with my geekish techy friends, it gave me a witty comeback when people ask why I don't drink. "What's so horrible about being drunk? Have you ever asked a glass of water?"
My first thougth is to be all, "Well, I've read Anna Karenina twice," which is true, but my memory is so bad that I doubt I could give you an outline of the important plot points. But I know I love reading it, and I wrote a paper on it in grad school that got a good grade, so.
My second thought is that it has to be Little Women, although I may be getting confused between how many times I've read it and how many times I've watched different versions of the movie. Despite never completely buying the way Laurie could just "Psych! I really love your little sister" like that; despite not understanding why a person would wear one glove and carry the other...time with the Marches is always warm and well spent.
Once I'd scanned the whole AV article (there were far too many words to read each one), yeah, that's pretty much gotta be it. The olde Hitchhiker's Guide. It never fails to make me laugh out loud, especially when I read the quotes I still use on a regular basis ("To summarize the summary of the summary, people are a problem").
I don't even remember why I first read THGTTG - I was never a science fiction kid despite a mom who watched Star Trek (TOS) compulsively. (Star Trek just got on my nerves: they left paradise three times? Whatever with them.) I know I was familiar with it when I was a freshman in high school (because of things that were happening in my life at the same time) but have no idea how it originally introduced itself to my consciousness. I only know that I'm SO grateful it did: not only did it give me credibility with my geekish techy friends, it gave me a witty comeback when people ask why I don't drink. "What's so horrible about being drunk? Have you ever asked a glass of water?"
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