April 30, 2005
Cat Tears
I have sad news. It happened a week ago, but I've been putting off saying anything, just wishing it weren't true. My cat Matilda has disappeared. One night, about a week ago, when I was cooking dinner and the kitchen was super hot, I opened the door to let some air in. Matilda got out. Well usually she gets spooked and comes right back in, but not this time. This time she took off and I haven't seen her since. In fact, I've seen her estranged sister Amelia more frequently than I've seen Matilda. I know people say "they're just cats!" but to me Matilda is more than just a cat. She is my sweetheart. My baby. She sleeps next to me and needs my love and attention and she's been gone for a week now and I am absolutely fucking heartbroken. For awhile I thought she was just out enjoying the nice weather with her naughty runaway sister. I kept telling myself she would be back. But today is chilly and rainy and Amelia came to the back door and I fed her. (She's such a scaredy cat, she just eats and retreats). There was no sign of Matilda anywhere. My heart sunk. Someone must have taken her in. She's such a sweet little housecat. Where could she be?
I'm going to make fliers today. Tomorrow is supposed to be a dry day so I will go and hang them around my neighborhood. I miss my kitty so much. Everytime I come home I feel upset that she's not here waiting for me to feed her and pet her. How could she have left and not come home? Did she get lost? Is she just secretly a wildcat like her sister? I'm sad.
Today I took a walk to the store. I passed the florist on my way and noticed that all the flowers had been taken out of the window to make way for an albino bunny rabbit and three strange looking white birds. I stopped to stare through the windowpane at them. The albino bunny was so cute. Its eyes were absolutely blood red, which is a little disconcerting, but it's such an interesting glitch in nature that you can't help but be captivated. The bunny hopped around in the way that you expect any bunny to hop around, bouncing sideways sporadically as if something in the strawlike floor was going to pounce up at her any second. She looked around with alarm, then settled for a few moments, then bounced it off again. Watching her soft, white, furry little body made me miss my soft, black, furry little kitty Matilda. I wanted to go in and ask if I could play with the rabbit, but its bunnicula eyes were a little intimidating so I decided to move along.
I picked up the items I needed at various shops in my neighborhood; the bodega for smokes and a magazine, the Italian butcher for pancetta to go in a pasta dinner, the supermarket for pine nuts...and walked the short distance back to my house in the wind and drizzle. I wondered all along the way where Matilda could be. I've spoken to all my neighbors close by, no one knows where she is but they promise to keep an eye out for a little black shiny cat with delicate features and prim mannerisms. I tell everyone "she's so nice, she never bites or scratches or hisses or makes a big fuss. If you see her, please pick her up and bring her home to me." As I entered the gate to the house and descended the stairs into my apartment, I prayed as always that she would be sitting there at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me to let her in from the rain. No such luck. I opened the door and felt that same pang of emptiness knowing that she's not here and I don't have any idea where she is.
Matilda, come home! :o(
April 28, 2005
You're Gonna Hear It, Mister
Well here I am. My week of slothing and studying has been glorious so far. I really feel like I'm getting better at this SAT stuff, understanding the math enough to get through the sections with some confidence, which is great. I spend every day taking practice tests and trying to learn from my mistakes. I'm not scoring perfect yet, but I am doing really well and I'm determined to score skyhigh on my reading and writing, so even if my math score isn't tops, everything else makes up for it.
Taking this week off is the best thing I possibly could have done for myself right now. I needed a break from work and I really needed to feel like I'm truly in the final stages of preparation for this test. I know it's not life and death, but it will bring me so much satisfaction if I do really well. My biggest fear is that I'm going to get in there on test day and the essay question is going to be some obtuse, one dimensional blurb that I am expected to write two pages about in 25 minutes. I am scared that I will get halfway through writing my essay and then realize that I'm completely off track and that I should have structured it totally differently, and "oh my god how am I going to fix this in time?" The essay is the first section of the test. I am scared I'm going to panic as soon as I read that first question and I'm going to screw it up. I can't think those things. I practice writing at least one essay every day and pray that I will have it down to such a science by the time test day comes that I won't even have to think about it, I'll just turn that bitch out. I really do feel that if I don't get top score on my essay, I'm going to be pissed enough to take the test a second time.
The weather has been cruddy the last couple days, which is kind of good because it keeps me glued to my studying, but it also seems to suck the energy right out of my body when the sky is gray and I can see the wind pushing and pulling on the trees outside. It's weird not to go to work for a week. You romanticize the notion when you're sitting at work wishing you were elsewhere, but when you're home all day you really have to stay busy so that you don't feel like a total sloth when the sun goes down and you realize you haven't done jackshit all day. I've been really good this week though, so I have cause to pat myself on the back, though I did binge out on television until three in the morning last night after studying. You know when you get so zoned out on television that you become totally indiscriminate about what you're watching?
Tivo is bad. After I'm done watching the shows I've recorded, I browse other shows to record. Then I watch shows that I haven't recorded and don't intend to record, which is where things get really out of hand. Like at 2:30 a.m. when you're watching a show about the behind the scenes of the show Desperate Housewives, when you don't even watch Desperate Housewives. Why the fuck am I watching a show about a show that I don't even watch? It's not right.
I watched a couple of Jon Stewart episodes last night. Watching that show is always a mixed bag of emotions. Laughing because it's fucking hilarious, and banging my head against the wall because it reveals things that are, painfully, a part of our reality that I wish did not exist.
Samantha Bee conducted an interview with two women who had been fired from a company called Weyco for being smokers. The company decided to test all of their employees for nicotine in the blood stream and they fired any employee who came up positive. Weyco did it to save money on health insurance. The fired employees were understandably outraged. Samantha then interviewed one of Weyco's executives, who just happened to be one of the biggest assholes alive. Among his littany of discrimatory remarks, he stated that it would be reasonable to fire an older employee and replace them with a younger, "better looking" employee. He went on to state that he might be offended if he saw an albino working at McDonalds because he doesn't want to have to see those people. I never know if these interviewees are for real or not. But if so, that guy should be shot in the kneecaps.
More disturbing is the stuff that you KNOW is real, like Jon's video footage of a rally at a "Megachurch" in Kentucky in support of a rule change that would make it impossible for democrats to block republican judicial nominations. The scene at the Megachurch looks more like the Republican National Convention than it does a ceremony of worship, especially with Bill Frist and other well known political/religious figures joining in on the action. It was a jubilantly angry affair during which they all went off the meter about how gay marriage, women's rights and the left's insistance on having a secular government is destroying the very fabric of American life and how any opposition to republican judicial nominations is an attempt to interfere with their right to free speech and religion. That's when my brain begins to steadily bang itself against the front of my cranium in frustration. I'm not kidding when I say it hurts. Jon points out the most hardhitting irony in everything. Not that there's any shortage of irony in politics these days...but that show really captures the essence of hypocrisy in politics and laziness in the media. Because it's on television and they are able to show many video clips, the point comes across without much explanation necessary.
The Christian Right is really on a wild crusade. Drunk with all the power they've gained in Washington, they forge ahead for the rest. I feel like I'm looking back at the history books, at the misdeeds and machinations of men long gone. But I'm not. I'm looking at reality. Today. The zealots are on the warpath. And much as I wish I wasn't, I'm worried.
While many other countries are making leaps and bounds in legalizing gay marriage, many Americans stand as ninnies against progress, siding with all this grandstanding about the sanctity of marriage and family values. Nothing makes me angrier than hearing people talk about "traditional family values," as if they themselves are some exemplary beacon of what morality and family values are all about. Half the people in that goddamn Megachurch have probably been divorced. But they don't want same sex couples to marry because it will violate the sanctity of marriage? Where do these people get their self righteousness from?
Meanwhile, some dickhead on CNN sights a report that scientific studies have shown that kids raised by two parents of the same sex turn out fucked up. The anchor does not bother to call it out as the false claim that it is, instead nodding and smiling and dicking off on her journalistic responsibility. I have a study right here that shows how Mormons, Catholics, Christians and Jehovah's Witnesses fuck their kids up. I conducted it all by myself. I found that by teaching their children intolerance, cloaked discrimination and effective tools of self repression, their kids grow up to be: a) just like their parents (not good); b) floozies, prostitutes, sociopaths and drug addicts (a little better, but still not good); or c) the exact opposite of their parents (it's lucky when it happens!)
April 25, 2005
Hell on Wheels
Lifted this from Darcie:
7 Deadly Sins
ANGER
1. Who did you last get angry with? Rob
2. What is your weapon of choice? Drinks.
3. Would you hit a member of the opposite sex? Yes
4. How about of the same sex? Yes
5. Who was the last person who got really angry at you? You can never be a hundred percent positive who is angry at you. But Rob is definitely the last person who has told me he was angry with me.
6. What is your pet peeve? I have many, many pet peeves. Where to start? People who leave messes for others to clean up. I also can't abide debilitating pickiness, extreme cheapness, men who compete with pregnant women and elderly over a seat on the train, arrogance and people who are oblivious to the world around them. Other pet peeves include: being buzzed on the intercom by my boss (most annoying ring pattern EVER), being asked to perform minute tasks, blatant rudeness, people who don't read a complete email before responding to it with a question that's already been answered in the original email, people who take any iota of authority too seriously or who claim authority arbitrarily and teenagers who call eachother "nigga" and "son."
7. Do you keep grudges, or can you let them go easily? It really depends on the situation. If the conflict is between me and a person I love, I don't hold grudges. But if a conflict occurs between me and a person who I didn't care about to begin with, it's likely that I will hold onto the grudge until they give me a reason to let it go. Sometimes a reason never presents itself and so I never think kindly of that person again. I definitely have the capacity to hold a grudge.
SLOTH
1. What is one thing you're supposed to do daily that you haven't done in a long time? Blog
2. What is the latest you've ever woken up? This is a very strange question. In fact, it could be the most ridiculous question ever. It's going on my list of pet peeves.
3. Name a person you've been meaning to contact, but haven't: Too many to count.
4. What is the last lame excuse you made? It's a secret.
5. Have you ever watched an infomercial all the way through (one of the long ones...)? Yes. And I once made a purchase as a result of one such infomercial. They try to sell you everything but your own kitchen sink once they get you on the phone.
6. When was the last time you got a good workout in? Hmmm. What qualifies as a "good workout." Getting to work and back everyday is a workout in itself. I call it Urban Stairmaster/Treadmill. But I don't really "work out."
7. How many times did you hit the snooze button on your alarm clock today? Not once. I'm on vacation!
GLUTTONY
1. What is your overpriced yuppie beverage of choice? Dirty Vodka Martini, extra cold.
2. White meat or dark meat? White meat.
3. What is the greatest amount of alcohol you've had in one sitting/outing/event? It's tough to recall, because I can really put 'em away, but I'm pretty sure I drank more after my friend Tyler's funeral than I've ever drank during one night out. I drank everything from shots of tequila to flaming Dr. Peppers to Irish Car Bombs to Tokyo Teas to Long Island Iced Teas to...jagermeister? Ugh...I don't even know. It was horrible.
4. Have you ever used a professional diet company? No. I have never been on a diet.
5. Do you have an issue with your weight? No.
6. Do you prefer sweets, salty foods, or spicy foods? Salty.
7. Have you ever looked at a small house pet or child and thought, "LUNCH!"? Yes. I used to tease my old roommate, Laura, that her pet chihuahua, Pebbles, looked like a chicken and then I would tell Pebbles that I was gonna eat her. It was a joke!!! Being around Laura made me think morbid, homicidal thoughts all the time.
LUST
1. How many people have you seen naked (not counting movies/family)? More than I care to remember.
2. How many people have seen YOU naked (not counting physicians/family)? More than I care to remember.
3. Have you ever caught yourself staring at the chest/crotch of a member of your gender of choice during a normal conversation? Yes.
4. Do you have a crush? Yes. Aside from Rob? Keifer Sutherland.
5. What is your favorite body part on a person of your gender of choice? Aside from his dead sexy mug? Ass, slope of the back, torso...ummm...I think I should stop there.
6. Have you ever been propositioned by a prostitute? Not exactly.
7. Have you ever had to get tested for an STD or pregnancy? Yes
GREED
1. How many credit cards do you own? 0
2. What's your guilty pleasure store? Um. Any store. I love the lingerie store by my house, but shoe stores are my biggest weakness.
3. If you had $1 million, what would you do with it? In order:
Give my two weeks notice
Travel in style
Buy a house
Invest
4. Would you rather be rich, or famous? Rich
5. Would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make megabucks? That depends on how boring and how mega the bucks. If it was mega enough that I could soon retire, sure. If it was something I'd be stuck doing for years and years, I don't think so.
6. Have you ever stolen anything? Yes
7. How many MP3s are on your hard drive? You'd have to ask my boyfriend. I don't download MP3s.
PRIDE
1. What one thing have you done that you're most proud of? Moved to New York and made a full adjustment.
2. What one thing have you done that your parents are most proud of? I can't be positive, but I think they're most proud of me for being independent and capable of taking care of myself. They also tell me I'm smart. But I think they're proud of themselves for that ;o)
3. What thing would you like to accomplish in your life? I would like to achieve total independence from authority and I would like to make a positive difference in the lives of others. I'd also like to publish a couple of high quality books before I die.
4. Do you get annoyed by coming in second place? I've never been very competative, so I don't really know. I imagine if I was competing in an area that I felt I exceeded at, it would be disappointing not to place first. I haven't really been in this situation so it's hard to say. Knowing my personality though, I think I might be annoyed.
5. Have you ever entered a contest of skill, knowing you were of much higher skill than all the other competitors? Never an official contest, but I've challenged people to a game of pool, knowing full well that I'm going to whip their ass.
6. Have you ever cheated on something to get a higher score? No. I never cared enough to cheat.
7. What did you do today that you're proud of? Studied diligently for my SAT.
ENVY
1. What item (or person) of your friend's would you most want to have for your own? Can it be something of my mom's? I want my mother's furniture. If it has to be something of a friend's, I'll take Lauren's apartment on Central Park West.
2. Who would you want to go on "Trading Spaces" with? Darcie. She has excellent taste. I would totally trust her to make my house look beautiful.
3. If you could be anyone else in the world, who would you be? Just for a little while: I'd like to be one of those people on the Food Network or the Travel Channel who just travel to beautiful places and eat all the time and sleep in posh hotels and get paid mucho dinero to go on tv and talk about how fabulous it is.
4. Have you ever been cheated on? Yes. Bastard.
5. Have you ever wished you had a physical feature different from your own? At one time or another, I've wished for lots of things to be different, but most of the time I'm relatively satisfied with what I've got. I wouldn't mind having less sensitive skin.
6. What inborn trait do you see in others that you wish you had for yourself? Greater ambition, an inclination to save money.
7. Do you wish you'd come up with this survey? Don't flatter yourself.
8. Finally, what is your favorite deadly sin? Favorite? I am well versed in all. It would be unfair to choose favorites.
Mommy Mayhem
Today was the first day of a whole week of fun-filled studying and lounging around my house. I worked very hard today, if I do say so myself. I also took a lunch break from studying to watch an Oprah show that I had tivo'd. One of the big topics was women who focus so much on their kids and are obsessively entangled in their childrens' lives to the point that they completely neglect to have a relationship with their husband. Interesting show. How can you not love Oprah? So a lot of women place their children above their husband in terms of priorities. Their justification for this is that children need them and their men don't. But I tended to agree with those "controversial figures" on the show who insisted that if you neglect to have a relationship with your spouse you aren't doing your kids any favors.
It really is weird how schmarmie many women have become about their children. "My children! My children! My children NEED me!!! I don't have time for anything else!" to the point that it's obsessive. I think Freud would have an absolute field day with all of this. Maybe he already did. Another thing that was touched on in the show was how some women have replaced the romantic love they once had for their husbands with a romanticized love for their children, misplacing those feelings and leaving the husband as a fifth wheel. Part of this probably has to do with the fact that men aren't always equal partners and sometimes leave all the child rearing and chores to their wives, simultaneously feeling neglected and deprived of intimacy; feelings that could probably be remedied if men would participate more in child rearing and housekeeping. But there are undoubtedly many cases where women are just overextending themselves when it comes to being involved in the lives of their children, feeling like they have to have this constant control over who those children become by being a part of everything they do. I guess they call it the Supermom Syndrome. Someone on the show pointed out that this would also seem to create a generation of kids who think they are the center of the universe, and rather than gaining the skills that are necessary to become independent, as intended, they instead become clingy and feel a dependency on their parents that they might not feel if they had been raised with a little less coddling. Who knows whether this is as significant as they made it out to be or not...you hear a lot of crazy psychobabble on that show. But occasionally there's something to it.
Of course, the whole controversy was started by this woman, who dared to write an article about how deeply she loves her husband and feels that he is the centerpiece of her existence, above her children. This outraged many women and catapulted it into a discussion about the excessive meddling of mothers in their children's lives and the diconnect that often occurs between couples after they have children. This women, Ayelet Waldman is her name, simply feels that her relationship with her husband is the foundation of a healthy life for the entire family. Her logic says, without that strong relationship between the two of them, how will the children have a real stable sense of security in the family around them? How can your kids have that if their parents are completely disconnected? How are they supposed to learn what a marriage should be like, if their parents treat eachother like roommates? And how are they supposed to be independent people, if they are taught to believe that mommy will always be there every step of the way, holding their precious little hand?
While many women on the show were feeling very judgmental towards Ms. Waldman for her statement that she "loves [her] husband more than [her] children," I thought they all seemed a little repressed. I couldn't quite understand why they insisted on accusing Waldman of not loving her children enough. They also insisted that they don't have time to have a life outside of their children. I can see how a person would come to think that way, but it makes me sad. I guess that's part of why I've decided to wait to have children. I've always been afraid to give up my own freedom and priorities to focus on the priorities of a child. As a women in the second half of my twenties and yet to have any children, I thought it was an interesting subject of discussion. I never want to be a smothering mom who can't balance out the love she has for her children with the love she has for the man who helped her create those children, but I also want to be a devoted mom who gives them the nurturing they need without going overboard. I want to continue to have a compelling, intimate relationship with the man I love even after having kids with him. Is that possible? I guess that's what the show was all about. How to strike a balance. If I ever get married again, I'm putting that in the vows "I promise that after we have kids, I'll still find time for you."
My mother had my brother and me by the time she was 23. She had a third by the time she was 27. I know she sacrificed and suffered a lot for us kids, but I know that I, for one, was never coddled. Perhaps my brother was, a bit, but his health was always in a somewhat precarious state. More than anything she was protective of our physical safety. Beyond that? She was never a PTA mom or a baking-cupcakes mom or a mom who hung out with other moms (not that there's anything wrong with that). She helped us as much as she could with our schoolwork and was heartbroken when all three of her kids turned out to hate school to the point where each of us eventually asserted a complete unwillingness to go. She was a great mom and our dad was a great dad. But you can't plan who your children will grow up to be. I can't say she's a hundred percent glad about the way all of us turned out, but she did her best. No amount of coddling would have made a difference. We also witnessed more than our fair share of love and war between our parents. But their interactions with eachother are what molded us, even more so than the interactions that each of us kids had individually with our parents early on. I know marriage was never easy for my parents and having kids so young didn't make things any easier. But they always talked. Kathleen has said that her favorite thing about staying over at our house was waking up in the morning and hearing my parents talking. They always found time to talk about books or politics or religion or shitty neighbors or whatever interesting things were going on in the world. They were always in love (even when wars broke out), they were never afraid to be a little affectionate in front of us. Dad would grab mom's ass and she would spank him back and we would giggle. More than thirty years later, they're still ticking, and more perfect for eachother than ever.
It made me sad to hear all these women in their late twenties and thirties and even fourties talking about how they have no interest in sex with their spouses and that their children are far more important to them than their husbands. One women even said that she watches Jeapordy while her husband "does his thing." UGH. Many of the women there expressed their disinterest in intimacy, saying that all of their love and energy is for their children. I really think that's a sickness. Please god don't ever let me become one of those women! And please don't ever let the person I have children with turn out to be someone who doesn't want to lend a hand to help out. I definitely think that's a big part of the problem. Men just don't help their wives enough with kids and chores. So women, stop being so fuckin frigid and hyper-involved! And men, stop being so goddamn lazy! And your kids will be a lot better off for the happier relationship that ensues...
I don't blog enough. When I do it's like a freakin avalanche. ;o)
April 21, 2005
$$$$$$$$$$$$
The weather has been incredible. I love spring. It's wonderful, regardless of whether or not it's a good thing that fair temperatures combined with PMS inspire me to spend money on myself-BAD! I keep telling myself I'm cut off and not allowed to buy anything more for at least a month, but I just can't seem to help myself lately. It would probably help if I didn't wander into merchandising establishments during my sunnyday lunch breaks. That's one thing about New York...it's hard not to spend your money when you got it. Luckily, it's also a city that can still be pleasant even when you're suffering a spell of brokeassedness as a result of financial mismanagement. A great ability to hold onto money isn't one of our strongest points in my family. We're excellent at spending it though. Next week I'm going to be extra good to make up for my recent transgressions. I'm taking the whole week off to study for my SAT (two weeks left! Aaaaaah!) and I'm going to live very cheaply while I do it. Commuting to Manhattan and eating lunch in midtown everyday gets pretty costly, so it'll be nice to stay home.
Warning. Even though this post seems to be about my banal spending habits, it will turn into a raving political post any second, so watch out! It sucks that money has to be an issue to all of us, but it's a part of life that we can't exactly ignore, so of course it seems important to learn to manage your money and take care to save some for the future. At my job I get good benefits, I'm happy to have health and dental insurance and paid vacations and sick days and 401k and all that good stuff. But there is still the likelihood for most of us that we will one day turn to our retirement savings and hopefully Social Security to keep us comfortably afloat in our old age. And who knows how long that could be? (If I keep smoking...) But truly, average life expectancy is only increasing. Many elderly in this country live on so very little. It's sad that the neediest individuals in our society are often the most neglected. It doesn't quite make sense. Anyway, I'm really, deeply, bothered by what's going on in our country right now, financially, and on so many other levels. Not that I am the most financially disciplined person in the world, but I'm not the government. If anything, I am one of the many consumers who help to fuel the Federal and State economy and I most definitely pay into Social Security like a mofo. It's a nice little deal, the way things work in the U.S. for those who are in a position to earn and spend. It's not so nice for those who aren't. And the way that I see Bush's policies, they give a hand to those who are already in the position to earn, spend and successfully invest, while crippling those who are already crippled. This is evident in his proposal to gut social security and to pass a bankruptcy bill that further fattens corporate giants and caters to the wealthy, while leaving already destitute Americans at an even greater disadvantage and without recourse. It's evident in his Medicare plan that doesn't help the elderly nearly as much as it helps the drug companies (while drug prices skyrocket to ungodly proportions, beating out the rate of inflation in the manner of a hare speeding easily past a pokey tortoise!)
I can't describe the horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach about everything that is going on right now.
There was an interesting article in the Washington Post recently about accountability in politics. Mostly, the article addressed the fact that politicians are so reluctant to hold their peers accountable for their actions. This trend is only slightly alarming, at the same time that its entirely predictable given what I see as a total decline of integrity in politics. I've noticed that since the political discords of my childhood such as the Iran Contra affair and the S&L scandal (and look who came back to give Bush a hand in 2004! Oliver "lies-through-his-teeth" North!), there hasn't been a great deal of heavy handedness when it comes to addressing a complete lack of ethics, except of course, in the case of Bill Clinton. Remember kids! Democrats are culpable for their mistakes, but Republicans are not! Very important to remember that. This is evidenced in the current situation with DeLay. When the republicans are tearing up democrats over "moral" issues, it's totally justified, but when democrats meekly declare their opposition to the greedy, scumsucking antics of a republican politician, it is suddenly a "smear campaign spawned from the democrat minority's desperation to regain power." If you're a republican, you aren't allowed to stand with the democrats on any issue. Meanwhile, I don't even know what a democrat is anymore, because half the democrats on Capitol Hill are really republicans. Rivalry has sucked the entire concept of rational thinking out of the picture and replaced it with the republicans ripping the ass out of the "democrats" on a daily basis and then crying foul the moment dems decide it's time to take action. There is no justice. Justice is fucking dead.
I see reports of ethical violations constantly here in New York and surrounding areas. City Council members, judges and politicians of all kinds seem to regularly be called into question for fraud, embezzling, accepting bribes, sexual misconduct...all the good stuff. Why, just today I saw a piece about Council Member Allan Jennings being "punished" for sexually harassing female coworkers (though of course, not fired because he's an elected official). The article said that it's the strongest penalty the City Council has ever placed on "one of its own."
But what about conduct that is less obvious in terms of its illegality, but still ethically wrong, through and through? There are so many examples of this in our current administration that I don't even know where to begin. We could start with Cheney's energy panel and Justice Scalia's loving safeguard over Cheney's right to nondisclosure. Or how about the awarding of defense contracts in Iraq that favored Cheney's former employer Halliburton and the fact that he has lied outright about having any involvement in it? What about the use of fabricated evidence to nudge us into an endless war? What about all of Rumsfeld's lies? Like the one he was caught telling on this video... The leaking of information regarding the identity of an undercover CIA agent? What about the attempts to merge the business of church with the business of state? Does that not violate our constitution? And why is lying okay if you're a politician, but not if you're Martha Stewart?
What about the fact that the Pentagon can't even goddamn well tell us just exactly HOW our BILLIONS of tax dollars have been spent on "general defense" in the past few years? Accountability? What the fuck is accountability? It sure as hell does not exist in Washington. Do you think there's a reason why they can't exactly tell us? Do you think that it's rather convenient that there is no "system in place by which to account for where each dollar was spent..."? Perhaps there would be no greater scandal than an accurate accounting of the dollars spent on the war in Iraq. Perhaps it would reveal the true extent of Halliburton's greed. Perhaps it would reveal how deeply we've been gouged. Perhaps it would expose the massive war profiteering and money mismanagement that has taken place under the rule of this administration, circumstances also known as: "How America has been robbed blind by a bevy of white collared bandits."
No, no. We can't make those accusations. We can't hold the people who are running our country accountable for what happens to it while it lies in their greedy hands! That's not fair! Apparently, in Washington, if you even try to take a stand against misconduct and ethical decay, you are shunned quicker than an Amish girl who's been impregnated by a city boy. But these politicians are fuckin rotten, my friends. Rotten to the core. And I just don't know what to do about it. It all seems so far beyond our control...Our fate is in the hands of very untrustworthy people.
April 15, 2005
A Cat Drama
It's deader 'an a doornail around these parts. It seems really weird to me that I was so intent on blogging for a couple of years and I could barely tear myself away from it in my free time, and lately it just hasn't been happening. Fucking weird I tell you. I think of things to blog about constantly and keep telling myself I'm going to find the time to sit down and spit it all out...but it hasn't been happening much. So I have a lot to say. But here's something that just came to me now.
Amelia is at the back window right now. Amelia is Matilda's sister. They're both Russian Blues. I got them from a catlady, who had like a thousand cats. This was back when they were just little babies, a couple of years ago now. They'd shared a small cage their entire lives up to the point that I took them home (they were a couple months old) and had not received much human contact, so they were beyond skittish. They were psycho schitzo crazy cats. Hated people. Hid all the time. Literally lived in the walls of my apartment when they found a crawl space that would lead them from one end of the house to the other without being seen at all. My friends used to laugh about my cats that lived in the walls and hated humans. Amelia is this pretty fluffy gray thing with a long, plumed tail. Matilda is a tiny, short-haired black cat, very delicate and perfect like a little princess, with long slender legs and tail. I always thought they loved eachother. They're sisters. They would frollick and play and pounce and curl up together on the floor for warmth. They also pissed on everything and made nests out of paper that they would steal and tear to pieces. I could never figure out why they behaved this way. I tried everything to make them stop, but nothing worked. They were a double dose of trouble. Maybe they were fighting over their territory...or something. Or maybe they just fed off of eachother's badness. I know how that is. They were wild when they were together. Like two unruly teenagers.
One day when a friend was visiting from out of town, the door was left open and Amelia unexpectedly took off. Ran out into a dark stormy night - never, ever to return, except as this occasional ghostlike creature. I call her my daughter who ran away and became a drug addict and a prostitute out on the street. She's a shadow of her former self in my eyes. She left us, but she comes back once in awhile, into the backyard, and peers through the window of the back door. When I have tried to coax her in, she either gets scared and runs away or she just stands there and stares at me with that cat-look that humans can't decipher. Does she know me? Does she know that I'm her mama? I think she knows this is her home, but she just doesn't want to live here. I don't know why.
She is still out there now. Matilda was captivated by her for awhile; standing up on her hind legs on a chair to put her nose up to the window. I opened the door to see what would happen if Matilda went out and tried to approach Amelia. She ventured out gingerly, but soon became a little more brazen and got up the steps to where Amelia is crouched, at which point they hissed pointedly at eachother. I called Matilda back in and shut the door. It's cold out there and I don't know if it's the right thing to try and take Amelia back in. When Matilda got back inside she stood up on the chair again to gaze at Amelia awhile longer. Not long after that, she lost interest altogether and has found the activity of laying in a corner in the manner of a furry black pancake more worthy of her time. (Oh, she just switched to her "backside turkey waiting to be stuffed" position on the floor.) Amelia sits at the top of the steps still, looking down at me every so often and otherwise staring off at the world that she's chosen over the warm confines of this home.
At the same time, when Amelia left, Matilda became a much more passive and loving cat. She has also ceased to piss on any floors or household objects. There is some strange psychology here, but I don't know enough about that kind of thing to really figure it out. I just assume that there was a rivalry there and I never really detected it, but that rivalry may have had something to do with Amelia taking off and never returning. It's weird that she continues to live as a stray in our neighborhood, only to come back and haunt us with her presence now and again. Meanwhile, Matilda seems much happier without her sister here and I feel like that's not right. Matilda should be sad and miss Amelia and wish for her return. But she's not a human, so why would she feel those things? She's perfectly happy to be the one that's getting all the food and all the love & attention and a warm spot on the bed. What a schemer.
Anybody out there a cat psychologist?
April 09, 2005
Hotblooded
Stole this meme from Devilish Belle (my results were hardly surprising):
| Your Inner European is Spanish! |
You bring the party with you! |
Chugging Right Along-long
Christ, the lagtime between entries here is pretty shameful. *Head hangs low in semi-defeat*
I haven't written about current events at all! And so much has been happening. The Pope died. That was newsworthy, but I think we all got our fair share of coverage. Think I could have found the time to mention that though. Sorry Pope. We all gotta go sometime. Johnnie Cochran died. That was way newsworthy. He'll go down in the history books. If some crazy crackers don't find a way to keep him out.
The WMD Commission issued a report faulting the CIA for [fabricated] prewar intelligence indicating that Saddam posed an imminent threat to the U.S., while the administration that relied on that bullshit evidence is still left virtually untouched by culpability. Bush embraces report. HAHAHAA! That's surprising. Anything that can deflect even a spitdroplet of blame from him and his sheisty administration... It's so unprofessional to blame the help. I find it funny how every commission that Bush has tried to inhibit "endorsed" seems to produce a final report that is favorable to the objective of laying accusations of failure everywhere except where it belongs: squarely on those who solicited that false evidence, orchestrated this war and have allowed it to become an unspeakable morass...yeah, so I haven't really written about that...or any of the other things that concern me about our downhill departure from democracy and justice. I look forward to a day when it all falls down. Nefarious conservative rule, that is.
I have been reading some trashy tabloid-esque magazines lately when I'm not studying or working or sleeping. I need to be doing two out of four of those things a lot more. I think you can probably guess which ones. For some reason, I like reading magazines like In Touch and Life&Style, even though they are complete crap. I like seeing what people are wearing and who they're dating and what kind of scandals are taking place...I know it's terrible, but it's an escape sometimes to just get engrossed in the affairs of other people. I have a huge guilt complex about reading those magazines. I know there are so much better things to read and I shouldn't even be wasting two minutes of my precious time looking at paparazzi photos and getting familiar with the dirt on celebrities, but all the same, those magazines are designed to lure people in and they work. I love checking out gossip and the latest fashions. I know it's like one of the seven deadly sins or something and I should be reading the most mindbending literature right now to prepare for my test, but that bad shit is still irresistable. I also indulge myself in thinking that I realize how truly empty it all is. I can't help it that there is a side to me that is a little frivolous and materialistic. I love to shop. I love fashion. I love makeup. I also contribute my fair share of cash to the music and entertainment industry for all the cds and dvds I buy and the cable television that I pay dearly for. I've tried throughout my life to balance my tendency towards frivolity with a down to earth attitude and an awareness that there is so much more to life than possessions. But everyone has to have a vice right? Just so happens I have a few of them, though I've managed to eliminate at least a couple of the really harmful ones (got a few to go).
For some reason, as my studying has increased, so has my tendency to want to read these vapid magazines on the train or during breaks. Robert asks me if I want to play chess and I can't stand the thought of doing anything that is going to require thinking and strategy beyond my study requirements. Is that weird? Maybe that's why I haven't felt like blogging so much lately. It requires me to think about what I am going to write about and if there are interesting articles to link or things going on in the world that I would be compelled to address. I think my brain feels a little overwhelmed. I haven't tried to commit this much new knowledge to memory in a long time. Maybe ever. I've never tried this hard and yet I still feel like I'm not trying hard enough. And I'm not.
I went to my SAT class today. It was a good session. Got our tests scores back from last week. A little disappointing that I'm not where I want to be. I just have to work harder. My math scores went up noticeably from the first couple tests. That was encouraging. But my other scores have stayed pretty stationary. I have less than a month left. Time seems to be ticking by at a startlingly rapid speed. It's kind of symbolic of the feeling that the test itself is like speed test taking. With just 25 minutes for each section, timing is so imperative. A lack of critical knowledge and reasoning is also an issue, but I have to hone my time management skills.
I spoke on the phone with my dad for hours last night. I can always get talking to my parents forever. There's always something more to say. Last night my dad and I talked about everything from my education to my car accident to our cats to destitute souls to politics to books...I love listening to my dad talk. His voice is thoughtful, his words are often wise, often hysterically funny and sometimes meandering through the lucid corridors of his own mind, expressing thoughts in a stream of consciousness while I sit there, rapt, wondering where it all comes from. Sometimes I feel a little dense when I'm talking to my dad. Like I am not sharp enough to catch things or I catch them late. Other times it is like we are perfectly in sync and the communication could not be clearer. He's really, really smart. I'm talking about genius, not just book smart. When we got talking about the budget deficit and natural resource crisis that the United States faces, I had to focus very astutely to get his analogy. But I've always been able to learn from him. And more than that, so inspired by him. No one in my life has influenced me more than my father has. That is the truth. No one has given me more faith in myself than my parents have. His encouragement of my developing pursuit for higher education gives me a huge and much-needed boost of self confidence.
So that's what's going on. I haven't been writing on current events, because I'm engrossed in trashy magazines, studying more occasionally than I should be, and talking on the tele, while saving my opinions for the practice essays I've been writing. But don't worry, there's always more where those came from. ;o)
April 04, 2005
Happy Home
When I was nine years old, my parents moved us all into our new (old) house on Fifth and Idaho in sunny Santa Monica, California. Great house, amazing lot, needed a lot of work. Yard was a downright catastrophe. Crazy brambles everywhere and so many leaves and branches and crrrrap lying around that you couldn't even see all the rats that were living out there. With the help of their friend Sieji, my parents cleaned every last twig out of that back yard. It took at least three trips for the dumptruck, filled bottom to the brim.
Then came the vegetable garden, and the flower garden, and the grass, and the above ground swimming pool. That was one of the greatest times of my life. I loved watching that yard be transformed from something hideous and sad - a nasty little hell realm of its own - into what was to me a beautiful, sparkling oasis encompassed by a heavenly garden. I loved swimming in that pool with my little sister. We did somersaults and handstands and played tea-party and bumper-butts beneath the four foot deep waters of our swimming pool. We tossed handfuls of water up in the air and cheered as the droplets rained back down upon us, pretending they were diamonds, because they sparkled just like diamonds in the sun.
On sunny, lazy weekends, my mom would garden or lay on a blanket with a book and my dad would do the same, or he might get his flute and walk around in little circles while filling the air with glorious, crystal clear notes that sounded just like the smooth, shiny silver from which they came. I associate a lot of music with that house. So many weekend mornings being awakened from a peaceful sleep by the Ramones or the Circle Jerks or Cat Stevens or Icehouse or Red Lorry Yellow Lorry or Tex & the Horseheads or Trio...blasting from my dad's record player...feeling energized and hopping out of bed to go and see what dad was up to, what we were going to do with our day...I loved being woken up by that music. I loved the weekends. To this day, nothing compares with getting up on the weekend and putting on a favorite cd nice and loud to get you moving. It seemed like our house on Fifth St. was always filled with music. I learned to play guitar while living in that house. And if it wasn't my dad's flute, or his records, or my clumsy strumming, it was the beating of Tibetan drums and the ringing of bells, the sounding of horns and the humming that accompanied the twist of a dorje. My parents provided the setting for many a vibrant dharma event.
There was a huge tree the size of two houses in the lot right next to ours. A big old pine, I guess. The branches at the bottom were as big around as a crocodile's torso, rough and dark and older than anything. We were always warned not to go inside that tree, but we couldn't resist. Racoons and possums galore lived in there, but we never saw any during the daylight, so we would venture between the curtain of branches that fanned out all around (taking up the whole lot) and we would roost in the huge fort that lay completely hidden at the foot of the tree. The same woman who owned our house owned that tree, and another house which sat behind the tree. She was offered millions for that property and obstinately refused to give it up. Her father had built those houses and she'd lived in ours most of her life, so there was no way she was letting any of it go. I still admire that about her. It aggravated investors to no end that this old spinster wouldn't give up that massive lot and allow that ancient tree to be cut down so they could build their condos there. (This was two blocks from Montana Ave. and five blocks walking distance from the beach in Santa Monica, so it was prime real estate). Last time I went back to visit, a few years ago, the houses and that magnificent tree were still there. I can't imagine that old woman is still alive, but you never know, and she may have left it to a historical society or in some kind of trust...
It was a sad day when we moved from that house. We lived there for five years. Longer than any other house or apartment we'd occupied in Los Angeles. Finding out we were moving to Ashland, Oregon came as a huge shock to me when I was fourteen years old. My brother and I were both teenagers, so it was tough to move to a new town and start over. I'm glad it all happened that way though. If I'd never moved to Ashland, I wouldn't have the amazing friends that I have and the great memories of teenage years full of the freedom that only expansive outdoors can provide. I never could have had that life in Los Angeles. Sad as it was to leave our house on Fifth Street behind, I guess it was one of the best things our parents ever did for us.
This entry was inspired by this picture of Darcie's yard at her brand new house that she just purchased. I'm so happy for her that she has a beautiful yard where she can invest her energy cultivating her surroundings, as she's so fond of doing. I still can't believe she owns a house. I gotta get back to Oregon for a visit...
April 02, 2005
What Was It Like For You?
My friend Frannie Banannie posted this in a bulletin on myspace and I had to steal it:
1. What High School did you attend?
Santa Monica High School; Ashland High School
2. What year was it? Ummm. I dunno. 92 to 95? I think.
3. What were your favorite band(s) or artist(s)?
I listened to an inordinate amount of David Bowie, Pink Floyd, Bootsy Collins, Ween and Sublime during my teen years. And I was completely addicted to the Natural Born Killers soundtrack.
4. What was your favorite outfit?
I wore a lot of stupid shit. I had lots of favorite outfits. Most of them would probably not be remotely appropriate now.
5. What was up with your hair?
Oh god. Don't even ask. Until the age of 14 I had beautiful long hair. Then my hair got chopped off by some overzealous stylist. My dad referred to it intermittently as both "Rod Stewart" and "Trailer Trash." Thank god I recovered. It was black for a couple years, and has been pretty natural since then.
6. Who was your best friend(s)?
When I went to SaMo High my best friend was Laura. Crazy bitch. In Ashland my closest friends were Kathleen Culla, Emily Fraser, Darcie Pelsor, Jenni Dotson, Caitlin Curtis, Dawn Long, Ahdi Lieberman, Christy Hugo, Celeste Huetter, Jess Young, Chelsea Lord... There were a lot of awesome girls in Ashland. Most of the dudes didn't quite measure up.
7. What did you do after school?
The real question is what was I doing DURING school. What wasn't I doing, before, during and after?
8. Where did you work?
A bed & breakfast, Soopkich'n, and at my dad's law office.
9. Did you take the bus?
No. The only time I've ever been in a school bus is at a Greatful Dead concert, or in Ashland, where they were being lived in and they were permeated by the smells of ganja (yay!) and patchouli (nay :o(.
10. Who did you have a crush on?
Aiaiai. Everybody. I won't mention any names for their sake.
11. Did you have a girlfriend/boyfriend and who?
I had lots of boyfriends. But the most serious one was Patrick, who I dated from 13 to 16.
12. Did you fight with your parents?
Drama for your mama. I was out of control.
13. Did you ever get detention?
I had detention EVERY SINGLE DAY in L.A. and was often summoned to Saturday School as well, but when I moved to Oregon they didn't have any such thing and I was free to be a delinquent with sheer abandon.
14. Favorite Subject?
Art and English. I had SUCH a crush on my Art teacher. (!!!)
16. Who did you have a CELEBRITY crush on?
Tom Cruise, Keifer Sutherland, Johnny Depp, Matthew Broderick, Lou Diamond Phillips, David Bowie...man there were so many hotties out there.
17. Did you smoke cigarettes?
Unfortunately, yes. The biggest mistake I made in high school was taking up smoking.
18. Did you lug all of your books around in your backpack all day?
Haha! What books? Oh, you mean those dusty old things that sat in my locker with titles like "The People's History of the United States"? Yeah...fuck that shitass propaganda.
19. Best event ever?
It's hard to say. For the most part, it was all good times back in those days.
Viva La Blog, Homegirl
Check Cupie's shit out (the good kind of shit, of course)! No comments though? Sadness, but you know what? It's still just as enjoyable to read. Damn it feels good to take a few hours to browse blogs. It's been awhile. I haven't been getting my dose of Cupie Spew and many other faves, and it just ain't right. So I stopped in for a visit today and was floored by all of her great posts. This girl is one bloggin motherfucker. I could stay here for hours reading blogs. Oh wait, I already have! Scroll down to "This Blog Has Tits" on March 14 on Cupie. She's rockin that talk.
Who Comes Up With These Things?
Pete Beck made me laugh with this list of remembrances and awarenesses that we are supposed to be observing this month. I had to steal it (though you must read his whole post, as he always brings his own sense of humor to things). I don't understand what we're all supposed to do with this:
April is...
Alcohol Awareness Month
Child Abuse Prevention Month (National)
Foot Health Awareness Month
Keep America Beautiful Month
Garden Month (National)
Holocaust Remembrance Month
Humor Month (National)
Mathematics Education Month (National)
Stress Awareness Month
Poetry Month (National)
Now get to work Americans! Crack a bottle of wine, refrain from hitting your kids for a day (a whole month, you say?! Impossible. Just kidding! Remember, it's Humor Month too), scrub those stinky hooves, lose some weight, plant a flower in your yard, kick back with a copy of the Diary of Anne Frank followed by a few episodes of Mad TV. But don't forget to study your math (shake off that booze buzz). The math exercises will immediately heighten your stress level which you will have to relieve by smoking a joint and jotting down a few groovy thoughts. I guess you have a whole month though, so take it easy.
In Case You Ever Wondered What It Would Be Like To Go Back to High School
Another Saturday, another SAT practice test. God I hate some of the kids in my Kaplan class. I know I mentioned it in a post a couple weeks ago, how annoying some of these teenagers are. While some of them are perfectly fine, normal people of course; minding their business, listening to the teacher, genuinely exhibiting a desire to do well on the test, others are downright intolerable. For instance, the pack of boys who always sit in the same corner of the room and make a juvenile spectacle during every class. When it's during class, while a discussion is going on or the teacher is instructing on the chalkboard, it's irritating, yes, but nothing like when you're sitting there for a four-hour practice test, hunkered down reading a complex passage, about which many difficult questions are to follow, and having the silent concentration in your head disrupted by the uncontrollable laughter and out-of-control antics of several teenage boys sitting directly behind you.
They usually maintain a steady, low level of whispering, suppressed laughter and jerky movements even while the teacher is in the room. But she usually leaves the class at least once during the test to consult with the teacher who is conducting another class right next door. This is when all hell breaks loose. A stack of flashcards is thrown, creating a visual distraction as they scatter and smack down to the floor; a desk is jerked loudly; one foot kicks another; this is all accompanied by merciless laughter and the trading of infantile accusations of guilt. I turn my head slightly toward them and say the words that I know will only cause them to laugh harder, but will set the stage for me to give them a piece of my mind: "please, shut the fuck up." Today, I could take it no longer.
The laughter continues and now two girls join in who obviously know the boys from school, and apparently think they're pretty cute. These girls rub me the wrong way on every level. They are exactly the type of girls I never got along with in school, so it makes perfect sense that I don't feel any affinity for them now. Difference is that now I don't feel even remotely inferior to them on any level and am much more equipt to make them wither under my glare. I am not their fucking peer and I will not be passive as their peers are. I think I let them know that today, when the laughing didn't cease and I still couldn't concentrate, causing me to turn around in my chair, look each of them in the face and explain to them that if they were not interested in taking the test, they could take a hike instead, but that they were being really rude and others were unable to focus over their disruptions.
One of the boys attempted to talk back, saying, "take the test then. Go ahead." I gave him my best "don't you dare get smart with me because I'm liable to fuck you up" look and said "I can't take the test with you laughing." This was relatively effective, as they hushed quite a bit after that and I tried desperately to find my sense of calm and focus that was completely lost during the course of the teacher's absence. I didn't regain it in time to do as well as I would have otherwise on that portion of the test. I was fuckin pissed. I'm still pissed. It was one of the hardest reading comprehension passages, and it had to be disrupted by these assholes. Fuck that, I'm 26 years old and I actually care about doing well, so I felt totally justified in telling them to put a lid on it, even when no one else in the class would dare. Well no one else in that class has been living in the real world for the past ten years, paying their own way in life. Very few of them have a concept of what a privilege it is to have the opportunity to go to college in the near future. You can't blame them for being young and stupid, they're just kids, but you can blame them for being assholes.
After class I waited to talk to the teacher to seek advice about a few sections of the test that I'm not doing as well on during the last couple practice runs. After she finished telling me that I have great writing skills - but unfortunately the SAT does not reward my talent for writing, only rewards the technical aspects of my essay as far as form goes - I told her that she can't leave those boys alone in the room without her supervision because they go haywire. She agreed and said that she is not going to allow them to sit together in the future. She and I are probably about the same age, so I think she understood where I was coming from. Ugh. They're at least sixteen years old, these kids, and they have to be treated like they're in kindergarten. It's pathetic.
So that was my Saturday morning/afternoon. I am sweating about this test. I only have five weeks left to study and a long way to go. Meanwhile, I am ready to rumble with the jackass-brigade if they decide to push me. I am not one to endure torture and I care too much about getting a decent score on this damn test to let them ruin it for me. I would just transfer into the class next door, but I don't like that teacher! Ah well. I'll cry no more about it. I'll kill them with my merciless...uh...beauty. ;o) Haha. Try a knuckle sandwich.
The weather is terrible so I'll be staying in for the rest of the day. I am so excited for spring to kick in.