I'm not a real holiday person. Add to the general stress (let's just say the shopping fairy passed me by) of family, food, and guilt, the fact that I have an entirely NEW family and you could guess that I am not really in my element this year.
So with the new kid came the renewal of my long ago relationship with Indy. There are a ton of new relatives (grandma's and uncles and aunts, oh my). The cards will be late (estimated arrival time . . . . May 2009). The gifts were few (we're poor, plus we just went to Florida). (What? We had to go to a wedding. All our money was spent on gas and hotels. It's not like we had fun or anything.) We squeaked by paying rent and the bills (whew). We've been eating ramen and toast for three days now. And to make it a real holiday . . . all three of us are sick. And the cat just sneezed on my leg.
I don't like being sick. Well, who does, I know, I know, but I really don't like it. I want to be lazy on my schedule, not because my weak old fat body decided to shut down. And I have less failure alarms than Chernobyl. I'm coasting along, sorry for Indy and the Nibblet, who had both started being snuffly and grumpy on Thursday, zooming around the house trying to clean up and prep for our meager holiday. I spent our last $40 on stocking stuffers, made the treats to give to all our friends, and even managed to get some work done. Then came Sunday.
Today has been the worst actually. I think I cried in my sleep last night from sinus pain. And why am I such a wuss now? I think the epidural completely spoiled me. Now I can't take any pain without whimpering and looking for the anesthesiologists. Yesterday the entire clan had the smoky deep radio voices, which made for a very Barry White Christmas. Today the Nibblet has no voice and just squeaks like a dolphin. It's cute and heartbreaking at the same time. I'm red-nosed, sniffly, and liable to snap. I did manage to do the laundry, change the bedding, do all the dishes, and work for four hours, but the rest of the day has been an endless "oh-my-head-my-nose-my-throat-waah-wah-waaaah".
Except it sounded like "om-by-heb-by-noths-by-troak-
waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-
waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah"
So, anyway. Being sick (and messing around on Myspace and finding a long lost) reminded me of something a friend said to me that was pretty profound. He said, "Live your life as if you are sick."
Well, I say friend, but he was really more of a coworker. A Buddhist monk. A 19-year-old Buddhist monk. With full sleeves. And dreadlocks. And ginormous holes in his ears. Who drank like a . . . werl, actually like the rest of us. Weird.
But to the point. He meant eat like you do when your sick or getting over being sick. Healthy foods. And to be moderate with alcohol and sweets. Not to smoke or stay up ridiculously late. To get plenty of rest and take care of your body. To spend equal time working and resting.
I'm a huge proponent of moderation (at least in thought, ahem). And living as though I was conscious of my health and well-being is a fantastic idea.
I only bring it up so that . . . werl, so I can be mocked later I suppose. What I really want, being a tv-child and demanding instant gratification from the world, is a pill that increases my determination and focus. Something that will make me exercise, find time to eat right, chill out a bit every day, and maybe even use the new things I learn. While I am one of the great procrastinators, I do get things done. Just not personal things. Or healthy things.
I have to hand it to Indy. He's totally unfazed by my new horrendousness. About every three hours I have been apologizing for leaving him with the Nibblet or yelling at the dishes or grousing about my face, blah blah blah. He laughs it off and goes back to WOW. Just another damned wonderful aspect of his personality I'll never live up to.
Time for more resting. I've discovered the joys of 30 Rock (damn you, Duckie) - so if you need me I'll be prone on the sofa, clutching my box of tissues and laughing hoarsely. But if you persist in bugging me, I'll cough on you.
26 December 2007
09 December 2007
Sunday Morning
The Scene: I'm doing dishes, Indy is putting away mushed up green beans, Nibblet is bouncing and full of green bean mush.
The topic of conversation is cranberry "sauce".
Me: So do you like the canned cranberries?
Indy: I prefer to make attack cranberries.
Me: Do you put the orange shit in them and that?
Indy: No, cause if I wanted an orange, I'd eat a frickin' orange. But we've had this discussion before, when you tried to mix something and orange.
{So long ago I was making candied orange peel to dip in bittersweet expensive chocolate for him. Bastard}
Me: I was really proud of that achievement. This is why I don't make you sweet stuff.
Indy: Just cause I like my flavors separate.
Me: Bigot.
Indy: Those flavors should know their place.
The topic of conversation is cranberry "sauce".
Me: So do you like the canned cranberries?
Indy: I prefer to make attack cranberries.
Me: Do you put the orange shit in them and that?
Indy: No, cause if I wanted an orange, I'd eat a frickin' orange. But we've had this discussion before, when you tried to mix something and orange.
{So long ago I was making candied orange peel to dip in bittersweet expensive chocolate for him. Bastard}
Me: I was really proud of that achievement. This is why I don't make you sweet stuff.
Indy: Just cause I like my flavors separate.
Me: Bigot.
Indy: Those flavors should know their place.
Saturday Night
The scene: Grocery shopping. Canned vegetable aisle. I'm looking at dried beans, Indy is pushing the cart, the Nibblet is making strangers coo because of her Santa hat.
Indy (to Nibblet): We should feed you black-eyed peas.
Me: Why?
Indy (to Nibblet): So you'll be just like your mom.
Me: What? How am I like black-eyed . . . oh, never mind.
Indy: Bwa ha ha
Indy (to Nibblet): We should feed you black-eyed peas.
Me: Why?
Indy (to Nibblet): So you'll be just like your mom.
Me: What? How am I like black-eyed . . . oh, never mind.
Indy: Bwa ha ha
18 November 2007
Sorry Sophist
I am having a terrible conundrum.
recently, to my general shame, I had to visit a Wal-Mart. I needed new contacts desperately, and their eye exams are, well, cheap. anyway, since having the kid my hips have decided to stop fitting into boy jeans, so I ended up looking at pants too. I had tried the Gap, Target, various thrift stores and a department store that shall remain unnamed (because I can't remember which one it was). none of those stores had anything that wasn't either size 0 or made for grandma's. and no offense, but I'm still under the impression that I'm sorta cool, and I'm a long way from buckling under the pressure to wear pleats. regardless (that's for you Duckie) I ended up buying four pair of pants that are kinda cool, and I don't feel like a mom in them.
normally I would never admit to this. I mean, Wal-Mart is an evil empire kinda store - they destroy local businesses, treat their employees poorly (if ever there was a place that needed a union), and over 70% of their stuff is manufactured in China, so they've drastically reduced employment opportunities in this country.
and then came Friday's Marketplace on NPR. during a special on American business and sustainability they interviewed Wal-Mart's president Lee Scott. and I heard terrible things.
Mr. Scott has some big ideas about sustainability and helping the environment. it goes along with saving money for the company, and of course, in his ideal world people would make one trip to Wal-Mart for all their needs - grocery, household, clothing, medical, etc etc. Wal-Mart just put out an advert talking about compact florescent light bulbs - how they save money and energy. it's what caught my attention, since I work with light geeks. one of these light bulbs can save a person $36 (in a year), but as the advert says, if every Wal-Mart customer bought ONE bulb it would be like taking one million cars off the road. because there are 180 million Wal-Mart shoppers. that's a third of the US population. then they played a clip of Mr. Scott at a company pep rally saying that Wal-Mart would sell 100 million energy efficient compact light bulbs this year. those are some amazing numbers.
add to this the fact that Wal-Mart is the largest private employer in the world, and that 600,000 of its employees have taken a personal sustainability pledge, not only for work but at home, and that they are encouraging their family and friends to also think about waste, energy, and the environment. is the Green party going to get in on this?
in October 2005 Wal-Mart started a sustainability initiative that includes SPENDING $500 million a year to meet some awfully quick goals. for example, within three years (meaning by the end of next year) they plan to have increased the fuel efficiency of their trucks by 25%, reduce store energy use by 30%, and to cut solid waste by 25%. it's better than the fucking Kyoto Protocol, and it's working.
Wal-Mart spent a year with outside consultants working out how they affect the economy and environment. they actual took this information and started doing something about it. they installed motion-detection lighting systems. they're pushing their vendors (all 60,000 of them) to reduce packaging, to meet the goal of a 5% decrease. this small decrease will amount to 213,000 trucks off the roads and save 67 million gallons of diesel fuel . . . a year. they're even investigating the idea of converting trucks to alternative fuels that will run the Detroit to D.C. delivery routes.
so, I'm thinking, huh. look at this evil global company doing something good. encouraging not only their employees but their vendors to get involved. setting goals and achieving them. Wal-Mart is a company that makes money, they REALLY make money, and they don't have to answer to lobbyists or pork-farmers. they don't have to worry about re-election either. so when they set out to do something for the environment it gets done. and they continue to make money. the car companies aren't doing this. the electric companies aren't doing this. I'm not even doing it.
shit. Wal-Mart is turning out to be better for the environment than I am.
I still feel slightly dirty for shopping there.
oh, and three little tidbits to chew on:
1 - Wal-Mart is the biggest seller of organic milk and cotton . . . in the world
2 - remember that a third of the population shops there? well, a 2004 poll of Wal-Mart shoppers showed that 76% were going to vote for Dumbass.
3 - and for you Hillary people - she was on the Board of Directors from 1985-1992.
recently, to my general shame, I had to visit a Wal-Mart. I needed new contacts desperately, and their eye exams are, well, cheap. anyway, since having the kid my hips have decided to stop fitting into boy jeans, so I ended up looking at pants too. I had tried the Gap, Target, various thrift stores and a department store that shall remain unnamed (because I can't remember which one it was). none of those stores had anything that wasn't either size 0 or made for grandma's. and no offense, but I'm still under the impression that I'm sorta cool, and I'm a long way from buckling under the pressure to wear pleats. regardless (that's for you Duckie) I ended up buying four pair of pants that are kinda cool, and I don't feel like a mom in them.
normally I would never admit to this. I mean, Wal-Mart is an evil empire kinda store - they destroy local businesses, treat their employees poorly (if ever there was a place that needed a union), and over 70% of their stuff is manufactured in China, so they've drastically reduced employment opportunities in this country.
and then came Friday's Marketplace on NPR. during a special on American business and sustainability they interviewed Wal-Mart's president Lee Scott. and I heard terrible things.
Mr. Scott has some big ideas about sustainability and helping the environment. it goes along with saving money for the company, and of course, in his ideal world people would make one trip to Wal-Mart for all their needs - grocery, household, clothing, medical, etc etc. Wal-Mart just put out an advert talking about compact florescent light bulbs - how they save money and energy. it's what caught my attention, since I work with light geeks. one of these light bulbs can save a person $36 (in a year), but as the advert says, if every Wal-Mart customer bought ONE bulb it would be like taking one million cars off the road. because there are 180 million Wal-Mart shoppers. that's a third of the US population. then they played a clip of Mr. Scott at a company pep rally saying that Wal-Mart would sell 100 million energy efficient compact light bulbs this year. those are some amazing numbers.
add to this the fact that Wal-Mart is the largest private employer in the world, and that 600,000 of its employees have taken a personal sustainability pledge, not only for work but at home, and that they are encouraging their family and friends to also think about waste, energy, and the environment. is the Green party going to get in on this?
in October 2005 Wal-Mart started a sustainability initiative that includes SPENDING $500 million a year to meet some awfully quick goals. for example, within three years (meaning by the end of next year) they plan to have increased the fuel efficiency of their trucks by 25%, reduce store energy use by 30%, and to cut solid waste by 25%. it's better than the fucking Kyoto Protocol, and it's working.
Wal-Mart spent a year with outside consultants working out how they affect the economy and environment. they actual took this information and started doing something about it. they installed motion-detection lighting systems. they're pushing their vendors (all 60,000 of them) to reduce packaging, to meet the goal of a 5% decrease. this small decrease will amount to 213,000 trucks off the roads and save 67 million gallons of diesel fuel . . . a year. they're even investigating the idea of converting trucks to alternative fuels that will run the Detroit to D.C. delivery routes.
so, I'm thinking, huh. look at this evil global company doing something good. encouraging not only their employees but their vendors to get involved. setting goals and achieving them. Wal-Mart is a company that makes money, they REALLY make money, and they don't have to answer to lobbyists or pork-farmers. they don't have to worry about re-election either. so when they set out to do something for the environment it gets done. and they continue to make money. the car companies aren't doing this. the electric companies aren't doing this. I'm not even doing it.
shit. Wal-Mart is turning out to be better for the environment than I am.
I still feel slightly dirty for shopping there.
oh, and three little tidbits to chew on:
1 - Wal-Mart is the biggest seller of organic milk and cotton . . . in the world
2 - remember that a third of the population shops there? well, a 2004 poll of Wal-Mart shoppers showed that 76% were going to vote for Dumbass.
3 - and for you Hillary people - she was on the Board of Directors from 1985-1992.
16 November 2007
I Heart Mike
todays rant: politics, part 1 of . . . many
can we all just admit that the 2008 winner is screwed?
if ever there was a position for scapegoat this is it. it is astonishing that so many people, both Republican and Democrat, are attempting to gain office. I have to wonder what they want it for. because none of them are going to "fix" America in four years. that dumbass in office now has done his best to make the history books, even if only as the most destructive president ever.
The President That Made America A Third World Country.
well, Dumbass may get that title, but it will probably go to the next president. who has to satisfy a grouchy electorate, fix the economy, deal with the stupidest war since, um, well it probably wins that title actually. plus we have all the issues that are distracting the world - health care, the environment, immigration, gay rights. where education, the veterans, and crime went I don't know. not to mention a foreign policy that doesn't include killing off everyone who steps outside in the Middle East.
there is still a year left before the election, there are debates every week, and if you love celebrity trash and People magazine this is your time. revel in it, because as it goes on I bet we'll start missing Britney and Bradjolina and whoever flashed their coochie this week. I think I'd already miss them, if I weren't so busy trying to pay bills, be a decent mother, and stay awake long enough to see the sunset. and if that were my thing, ahem.
honestly, I don't care what Hillary wears to the debate. I don't care if Romney is a switch-hitter (for gays, against gays, whatever, I'M not voting for him). once again the Democrats are attacking each other, instead of issues or Republicans. at least the Republicans attack each other subtly, instead of in debates. which is probably why they'll win again. Republicans seem to see the big pictures, which is winning the White House, as opposed to the Dems, who want to win, but nicely. so naive.
and I don't care who voted for the war, or tax breaks, or the Kyoto Protocol. I want to know what is in the future, not the past. it never bothered me that Kerry changed his mind. the problem with Dumbass is that he flips a coin to make decisions and then sticks to it. win the war in Iraq? can we agree that this is not going to happen? No Child Left Behind? can we agree that it's Most-Children-Left-On-The-Side?
for the sake of the gods, Schwarzenegger is doing a better job in government.
what frightens me the most is that people still think the president is more than a talking head. it seems to me that Congress and Chaney are the ones in charge. granted we have a pussy Congress right now, but you never know. health care is not going to get sorted out because someone has "a plan". social security and medicare/medicaid are not going to be solved by ignoring them. the economy isn't going to change until the middle class is reestablished. the Middle East? there is no solution that America can offer, it has to come from the people who live there.
and while all this is going on we're ignoring a real live genocide happening all across our tv screens and newspapers. Congress seems more concerned about an Armenian genocide that happened 95 years ago. of course, it is much safer to be irate about something in the past (hence the current political debates) than it is to stand up in front of a gun today.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
right now I'm all about Mike Gravel. he's an old curmudgeon who can actually debate without bringing up hairstyles. he's almost as grouchy as I am, has ideas that might actually squeak through Congress, and is pretty clear-eyed about how fucked up American politics are. granted there's the whole Groucho Marx thing - about not wanting to join any club that will have me. it's hard to trust any politician. none of them are all that willing to discuss how useless they really are. but that's beside the point.
I'm not going to sell Gravel. he's an unknown, and can't even get into the debates. which sucks. you can go check him out at www.gravel2008.us - although it's a pretty sad sight (and site). Ralph Nader writes the intro piece to "Meet Mike Gravel". I'm just waiting for Howard Dean to endorse him. The proverbial nail in the coffin, you understand.
still, I like the old dude. he's got more passion for politics than the rest of the Democrats. Gravel is more interested in government than popularity. and, personally, I think this is the way to go with politics. find the fucker that best represents you and vote for him because he thinks like you, not because he kissed your baby or ate your chili.
and, for the love of the gods, vote, ya big babies. it may make it a little bit more difficult to expatriate, but at least you can fall back on the "Hey, I voted for Nader" when they question you about your patriotism.
Coming Soon: the old cat explains the difference between democracy and republic, and starts throwing things at the electoral college
can we all just admit that the 2008 winner is screwed?
if ever there was a position for scapegoat this is it. it is astonishing that so many people, both Republican and Democrat, are attempting to gain office. I have to wonder what they want it for. because none of them are going to "fix" America in four years. that dumbass in office now has done his best to make the history books, even if only as the most destructive president ever.
The President That Made America A Third World Country.
well, Dumbass may get that title, but it will probably go to the next president. who has to satisfy a grouchy electorate, fix the economy, deal with the stupidest war since, um, well it probably wins that title actually. plus we have all the issues that are distracting the world - health care, the environment, immigration, gay rights. where education, the veterans, and crime went I don't know. not to mention a foreign policy that doesn't include killing off everyone who steps outside in the Middle East.
there is still a year left before the election, there are debates every week, and if you love celebrity trash and People magazine this is your time. revel in it, because as it goes on I bet we'll start missing Britney and Bradjolina and whoever flashed their coochie this week. I think I'd already miss them, if I weren't so busy trying to pay bills, be a decent mother, and stay awake long enough to see the sunset. and if that were my thing, ahem.
honestly, I don't care what Hillary wears to the debate. I don't care if Romney is a switch-hitter (for gays, against gays, whatever, I'M not voting for him). once again the Democrats are attacking each other, instead of issues or Republicans. at least the Republicans attack each other subtly, instead of in debates. which is probably why they'll win again. Republicans seem to see the big pictures, which is winning the White House, as opposed to the Dems, who want to win, but nicely. so naive.
and I don't care who voted for the war, or tax breaks, or the Kyoto Protocol. I want to know what is in the future, not the past. it never bothered me that Kerry changed his mind. the problem with Dumbass is that he flips a coin to make decisions and then sticks to it. win the war in Iraq? can we agree that this is not going to happen? No Child Left Behind? can we agree that it's Most-Children-Left-On-The-Side?
for the sake of the gods, Schwarzenegger is doing a better job in government.
what frightens me the most is that people still think the president is more than a talking head. it seems to me that Congress and Chaney are the ones in charge. granted we have a pussy Congress right now, but you never know. health care is not going to get sorted out because someone has "a plan". social security and medicare/medicaid are not going to be solved by ignoring them. the economy isn't going to change until the middle class is reestablished. the Middle East? there is no solution that America can offer, it has to come from the people who live there.
and while all this is going on we're ignoring a real live genocide happening all across our tv screens and newspapers. Congress seems more concerned about an Armenian genocide that happened 95 years ago. of course, it is much safer to be irate about something in the past (hence the current political debates) than it is to stand up in front of a gun today.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
right now I'm all about Mike Gravel. he's an old curmudgeon who can actually debate without bringing up hairstyles. he's almost as grouchy as I am, has ideas that might actually squeak through Congress, and is pretty clear-eyed about how fucked up American politics are. granted there's the whole Groucho Marx thing - about not wanting to join any club that will have me. it's hard to trust any politician. none of them are all that willing to discuss how useless they really are. but that's beside the point.
I'm not going to sell Gravel. he's an unknown, and can't even get into the debates. which sucks. you can go check him out at www.gravel2008.us - although it's a pretty sad sight (and site). Ralph Nader writes the intro piece to "Meet Mike Gravel". I'm just waiting for Howard Dean to endorse him. The proverbial nail in the coffin, you understand.
still, I like the old dude. he's got more passion for politics than the rest of the Democrats. Gravel is more interested in government than popularity. and, personally, I think this is the way to go with politics. find the fucker that best represents you and vote for him because he thinks like you, not because he kissed your baby or ate your chili.
and, for the love of the gods, vote, ya big babies. it may make it a little bit more difficult to expatriate, but at least you can fall back on the "Hey, I voted for Nader" when they question you about your patriotism.
Coming Soon: the old cat explains the difference between democracy and republic, and starts throwing things at the electoral college
03 November 2007
DC, Day 2
Update: so it appears that showing no emotion is the new way to go.
Today's rant is a simple one:
Why do professional athletes get paid so damned much?
I agree that they do a spectacular job of running and playing with balls, or whatever, but how does that make them worth more than, oh I don't know, teachers? Social workers? Child services employees?
and what exactly does it say about us that we continue to support these big sweaty troublesome men? I say men, because really, how much do figure skaters make? or gymnasts?
anyway, I really love watching football. I'll even support the argument that their careers are short-lived due to heinous wear and tear and injuries. but it's hard to compare a full-back earning $762,000 in a year compared to a high school teachers paltry $40,000. so that means that a high school teacher has to survive not only teenagers but the school system, government, principals politics, and the fuckin' PTA for 19 years to equal what a Carolina Panther can pull in 8 months.
wha???
if we cared about our kids, or future kids, or even the politicians that will handle our social security and medicare, shouldn't we be switching that?
this is an old argument. I heard it long before I even realized that the government was raping me to provide for old people. so why is it still an issue?
I suppose it's easier to be a Bears fan, or a Packers fan, or even a shameful Cowboys fan, than to cough up more city taxes for teachers that may or may not affect your actual life. and the gods know, if we started encouraging teachers to accept sponsorships all our kids would come home saying McD's was healthy or that only Adidas cared about our sweat and toil. still, I can't help but feel that something could be done.
a recent conversation with my girls opened up the idea that you can live in a neighborhood that is already good, or you can make an effort and try to fix a neighborhood that is currently bad. and I can honestly say, I'd rather live in the good neighborhood. I'd rather support a school that has smart kids, wealthy contributing parents, and more electives. I don't really want to try and save a school that is underfunded and full of already angry kids, who expect either a hand-out or to be slapped down by the man.
I recognize that I should care about these bad schools. my kid will probably end up in one, and I will be there everyday to make an effort. but I'd rather make the effort at a good school. it seems a lot less like hypocrisy when my own wee one is involved.
so, who wants to join me in hitting up professional football players to kick 90% of their salary to their state schools? come on, it still leaves them with $76,200 . . . and do any of us make that much?
Go Colts!
Today's rant is a simple one:
Why do professional athletes get paid so damned much?
I agree that they do a spectacular job of running and playing with balls, or whatever, but how does that make them worth more than, oh I don't know, teachers? Social workers? Child services employees?
and what exactly does it say about us that we continue to support these big sweaty troublesome men? I say men, because really, how much do figure skaters make? or gymnasts?
anyway, I really love watching football. I'll even support the argument that their careers are short-lived due to heinous wear and tear and injuries. but it's hard to compare a full-back earning $762,000 in a year compared to a high school teachers paltry $40,000. so that means that a high school teacher has to survive not only teenagers but the school system, government, principals politics, and the fuckin' PTA for 19 years to equal what a Carolina Panther can pull in 8 months.
wha???
if we cared about our kids, or future kids, or even the politicians that will handle our social security and medicare, shouldn't we be switching that?
this is an old argument. I heard it long before I even realized that the government was raping me to provide for old people. so why is it still an issue?
I suppose it's easier to be a Bears fan, or a Packers fan, or even a shameful Cowboys fan, than to cough up more city taxes for teachers that may or may not affect your actual life. and the gods know, if we started encouraging teachers to accept sponsorships all our kids would come home saying McD's was healthy or that only Adidas cared about our sweat and toil. still, I can't help but feel that something could be done.
a recent conversation with my girls opened up the idea that you can live in a neighborhood that is already good, or you can make an effort and try to fix a neighborhood that is currently bad. and I can honestly say, I'd rather live in the good neighborhood. I'd rather support a school that has smart kids, wealthy contributing parents, and more electives. I don't really want to try and save a school that is underfunded and full of already angry kids, who expect either a hand-out or to be slapped down by the man.
I recognize that I should care about these bad schools. my kid will probably end up in one, and I will be there everyday to make an effort. but I'd rather make the effort at a good school. it seems a lot less like hypocrisy when my own wee one is involved.
so, who wants to join me in hitting up professional football players to kick 90% of their salary to their state schools? come on, it still leaves them with $76,200 . . . and do any of us make that much?
Go Colts!
02 November 2007
My Dane Cook moment
so, tonight I had the "nothing" fight.
Let me just say at this point that I don't intend to use real names if I can avoid it. unless I'm thanking you for something, you get a fake name. I'm open to suggestions (for those of you who are concerned). My lovely man I will call "Indy", because of several in-jokes, but also because he reminds me of Indiana Jones. Rowl. My sweet baby I'll just call "Nibblet" because that's what we call her. It fits too.
I'm tired, cranky, cold, and have a tendency to let grievances build up, so I'm also full of petty, minor grievances. after passively asking for some help (basically, not saying "help me with this" but instead saying "oh, poor me. I need some help") I got pissed and did the dishes.
that I was told not to do because Indy would do them sometime in the evening.
which has been said before.
but those nights are not this night, and I saw that it was 830pm, we hadn't had dinner, the kid was fussy (and fuzzy) so I just did them. but I snapped at Indy about it. let's just say that his world was all sunny and good, and then he walked into the kitchen where tsunami force aggravation was being used to scour not only the silverware but also his ears.
now his solution was to walk away, let both of us cool off, and get the table set for the awesome pizza we ordered (wha? we're lazy). except I don't cool off during the down time. I use it quite productively to tear into myself, make excuses, find new and better ways of being nasty, and basically fan the flames of anger.
I slam some laundry around (a particular skill of mine) and then come out to eat. I'm aware he took the time to cool down, but I'm eating pizza thinking I'd rather be working or reading or crying in the bathroom.
anyway, he calmly tells me why I'm off base (mostly legitimate, I admit) and I chew furiously, managing not only to bite my own stupid tongue, but also both sides of my cheeks. then I open my mouth to explain my rational reasons for being upset, and instead out comes this vitriolic spew of excrement. and I couldn't stop. it turned into a "nothing" fight. all the sudden no matter what he said I was spitting and cursing.
the worst part is that we didn't go anywhere with it. I even ask him to help find a solution to the housework problem, but it fell like the Hindenburg. and then we didn't talk except to say "excuse me" or "do you want me to feed the Nibblet?" now he's gone to bed and I have to decide what to do. an hour ago I felt that it would be best if I just kept things to myself, just faced life as if I were alone dealing with the baby, the house, work, bills, whatever. that way I'll be grateful for the things he does, I don't have to ask him for help anymore, and when there's a problem, I know who to blame.
because it's me, right?
Let me just say at this point that I don't intend to use real names if I can avoid it. unless I'm thanking you for something, you get a fake name. I'm open to suggestions (for those of you who are concerned). My lovely man I will call "Indy", because of several in-jokes, but also because he reminds me of Indiana Jones. Rowl. My sweet baby I'll just call "Nibblet" because that's what we call her. It fits too.
I'm tired, cranky, cold, and have a tendency to let grievances build up, so I'm also full of petty, minor grievances. after passively asking for some help (basically, not saying "help me with this" but instead saying "oh, poor me. I need some help") I got pissed and did the dishes.
that I was told not to do because Indy would do them sometime in the evening.
which has been said before.
but those nights are not this night, and I saw that it was 830pm, we hadn't had dinner, the kid was fussy (and fuzzy) so I just did them. but I snapped at Indy about it. let's just say that his world was all sunny and good, and then he walked into the kitchen where tsunami force aggravation was being used to scour not only the silverware but also his ears.
now his solution was to walk away, let both of us cool off, and get the table set for the awesome pizza we ordered (wha? we're lazy). except I don't cool off during the down time. I use it quite productively to tear into myself, make excuses, find new and better ways of being nasty, and basically fan the flames of anger.
I slam some laundry around (a particular skill of mine) and then come out to eat. I'm aware he took the time to cool down, but I'm eating pizza thinking I'd rather be working or reading or crying in the bathroom.
anyway, he calmly tells me why I'm off base (mostly legitimate, I admit) and I chew furiously, managing not only to bite my own stupid tongue, but also both sides of my cheeks. then I open my mouth to explain my rational reasons for being upset, and instead out comes this vitriolic spew of excrement. and I couldn't stop. it turned into a "nothing" fight. all the sudden no matter what he said I was spitting and cursing.
the worst part is that we didn't go anywhere with it. I even ask him to help find a solution to the housework problem, but it fell like the Hindenburg. and then we didn't talk except to say "excuse me" or "do you want me to feed the Nibblet?" now he's gone to bed and I have to decide what to do. an hour ago I felt that it would be best if I just kept things to myself, just faced life as if I were alone dealing with the baby, the house, work, bills, whatever. that way I'll be grateful for the things he does, I don't have to ask him for help anymore, and when there's a problem, I know who to blame.
because it's me, right?
27 October 2007
The book of . . .
I'm reading a pretty standard crime novel, but it still provided me with todays fantastic quote and a word that I will mock others with:
"God forbid we should ever achieve some kind of prelapsarian
utopia on earth because then you would have to live your life
instead of just complaining about it."
this is why I read, and why I read voraciously.
if you want to know me, go read Neal Stephenson, Christopher Moore, and every Discworld book by Terry Pratchett. hell, even if you don't want to know me, go and read their stuff. or pick up Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. or Larry Gonick's Cartoon History of the World.
life is too short for bad books and bad beer. in my world reading books equal tax breaks.
"God forbid we should ever achieve some kind of prelapsarian
utopia on earth because then you would have to live your life
instead of just complaining about it."
this is why I read, and why I read voraciously.
if you want to know me, go read Neal Stephenson, Christopher Moore, and every Discworld book by Terry Pratchett. hell, even if you don't want to know me, go and read their stuff. or pick up Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. or Larry Gonick's Cartoon History of the World.
life is too short for bad books and bad beer. in my world reading books equal tax breaks.
Friday Night Lights
here we go, with rant #1.
when do we officially acknowledge that law and order, i.e. the government and criminal courts, are not working? is it the third time a child molester is caught? or the second time a crack dealer is arrested? or the first time someone is accused of stealing? what is the point where common sense steps up to say, "Uh, no more"?
I live in the ghetto. most people would say it's only partially a ghetto, but we have crack dealers, hookers, gunshots, and homeless people. that's either the ghetto or a real sign that it's time to leave America. I am the first to admit that I am not involved in my neighborhood. I don't want to be part of this. I don't even want to believe that it exists, although you'll not catch me living in denial. I don't walk through the neighborhood after dark, I can barely go get something out of my car after 8pm without turning on all the lights in the house and carrying my cell phone in my hand with 9-1 dialed. I don't live in fear, but I do live with several weapons.
personally, I'm tired of having violent fantasies that involve chasing someone down the street after they've committed some atrocity in my home or to my family. I don't believe that the law will help me, or that justice exists. okay, so I'm a vengeful person. if you step on my foot and don't at least say excuse me I will follow you around the grocery store until I can ram you with my cart and get away with it. not that I've ever done that. well, more than twice.
anyway, I don't want to avoid driving down the street because crack dealers are standing in the middle of it. I want to run them down instead of lowering my head and waiting for them to saunter their big ass saggy pants out of the way. I don't want to watch the same girl walk up and down the block with various men while I'm playing with my kid in the yard. I could go in the backyard, but the pit bulls next door tend to attack the fence relentlessly, and I get tired of the barking. I don't want to listen to gunshots at 10pm and wonder if it's the next block over or down. and then spend 15 minutes wondering if the cops will show up, or if I've called so often that they ignore my messages. or that they are overwhelmed and understaffed and unable to attend to calls that are less specific than "FIRE" or "He's bleeding all over the sofa!" I'm listening to some woman right now yelling, "Shut the fuck up! What do you know? Shut the fuck up! I don't need you or your shit. Don't, don't you come near me . . ." I peek out the blinds, but they've moved on.
it sucks. no one should live like this. no one should be forced, by nature or nurture, to live without adequate shelter, food, water, or education. I want to make it better, but holding hands with the neighborhood watch isn't enough. the ghetto needs jobs, vocational training, social engineering, and some fucking bleach to wash out the blood stains. and no, I'm not advocating "whitening" the neighborhood, just adding some elements of civilization.
but that's another blog . . .
so, the ghetto. what can I do? I could join the neighborhood association, go to the church pancake breakfasts, argue with city planners, but what I really want to do is get a baseball bat and clean out the crack corner. I want to introduce jobs that offer enough money to keep the dealers from selling, that give some honor to the hookers (or at least safety), and that provides positive role-models for the kids. there's a serious lack of smart people with bling. you can like rap all you want, but money, ho's, diamonds, and flashy cars seem to be all that it's about. accounting or the civil service don't offer that excitement, danger, or tabloid fodder. it's a shame really. can't you just see Alan Greenspan with a diamond grill? or Sandra Day O'Connor speeding down the interstate with buff boys flexing and preening?
now, I said it before, I have all the answers. they're hard solutions. and it does come down to, "you want this to be a good neighborhood? then go make it one". there's no pussy-footing around. do it, or suck it up, nancy. I'm a nancy. I love my man and my kid, and I don't want to lose them. so I hide in my house, with all the lights on, hoping that someone else will do something. anything. because if one person takes it personally, takes it to the level of real interaction, and gets away with it? I'm right behind you. probably with the machete (thanks Sparky!). the courts don't work. the law isn't enough. I'm open to the arguments, but until I see a neighborhood that's actually been turned around by people singing and buying each other a soda I only foresee violence.
if there were an easier way, I can only think that it would have been done. if kindness, forgiveness, second chances and mothering could turn things around, I don't think I'd be living in the ghetto. sometimes good people fail, and sometimes people are just bad. I'm of the rip-the-bandaid-off-quick mindset. so, in the same vein, I'm of the kill-em-before-they-do-more-damage mindset.
is it fair? no, but it's reality. is it nice? hell no. but we all make decisions, and if your decision is to make my neighborhood dangerous . . . well, that's a wound I'm willing to expose to the air. in words, at least. I'll get back to you when I've actually put words to action. they've got great computer stations at the prison here. I recognize my hypocrisy. I want to change the ghetto. but mostly, I want OUT of the ghetto. and I'm not ashamed to take donations.
when do we officially acknowledge that law and order, i.e. the government and criminal courts, are not working? is it the third time a child molester is caught? or the second time a crack dealer is arrested? or the first time someone is accused of stealing? what is the point where common sense steps up to say, "Uh, no more"?
I live in the ghetto. most people would say it's only partially a ghetto, but we have crack dealers, hookers, gunshots, and homeless people. that's either the ghetto or a real sign that it's time to leave America. I am the first to admit that I am not involved in my neighborhood. I don't want to be part of this. I don't even want to believe that it exists, although you'll not catch me living in denial. I don't walk through the neighborhood after dark, I can barely go get something out of my car after 8pm without turning on all the lights in the house and carrying my cell phone in my hand with 9-1 dialed. I don't live in fear, but I do live with several weapons.
personally, I'm tired of having violent fantasies that involve chasing someone down the street after they've committed some atrocity in my home or to my family. I don't believe that the law will help me, or that justice exists. okay, so I'm a vengeful person. if you step on my foot and don't at least say excuse me I will follow you around the grocery store until I can ram you with my cart and get away with it. not that I've ever done that. well, more than twice.
anyway, I don't want to avoid driving down the street because crack dealers are standing in the middle of it. I want to run them down instead of lowering my head and waiting for them to saunter their big ass saggy pants out of the way. I don't want to watch the same girl walk up and down the block with various men while I'm playing with my kid in the yard. I could go in the backyard, but the pit bulls next door tend to attack the fence relentlessly, and I get tired of the barking. I don't want to listen to gunshots at 10pm and wonder if it's the next block over or down. and then spend 15 minutes wondering if the cops will show up, or if I've called so often that they ignore my messages. or that they are overwhelmed and understaffed and unable to attend to calls that are less specific than "FIRE" or "He's bleeding all over the sofa!" I'm listening to some woman right now yelling, "Shut the fuck up! What do you know? Shut the fuck up! I don't need you or your shit. Don't, don't you come near me . . ." I peek out the blinds, but they've moved on.
it sucks. no one should live like this. no one should be forced, by nature or nurture, to live without adequate shelter, food, water, or education. I want to make it better, but holding hands with the neighborhood watch isn't enough. the ghetto needs jobs, vocational training, social engineering, and some fucking bleach to wash out the blood stains. and no, I'm not advocating "whitening" the neighborhood, just adding some elements of civilization.
but that's another blog . . .
so, the ghetto. what can I do? I could join the neighborhood association, go to the church pancake breakfasts, argue with city planners, but what I really want to do is get a baseball bat and clean out the crack corner. I want to introduce jobs that offer enough money to keep the dealers from selling, that give some honor to the hookers (or at least safety), and that provides positive role-models for the kids. there's a serious lack of smart people with bling. you can like rap all you want, but money, ho's, diamonds, and flashy cars seem to be all that it's about. accounting or the civil service don't offer that excitement, danger, or tabloid fodder. it's a shame really. can't you just see Alan Greenspan with a diamond grill? or Sandra Day O'Connor speeding down the interstate with buff boys flexing and preening?
now, I said it before, I have all the answers. they're hard solutions. and it does come down to, "you want this to be a good neighborhood? then go make it one". there's no pussy-footing around. do it, or suck it up, nancy. I'm a nancy. I love my man and my kid, and I don't want to lose them. so I hide in my house, with all the lights on, hoping that someone else will do something. anything. because if one person takes it personally, takes it to the level of real interaction, and gets away with it? I'm right behind you. probably with the machete (thanks Sparky!). the courts don't work. the law isn't enough. I'm open to the arguments, but until I see a neighborhood that's actually been turned around by people singing and buying each other a soda I only foresee violence.
if there were an easier way, I can only think that it would have been done. if kindness, forgiveness, second chances and mothering could turn things around, I don't think I'd be living in the ghetto. sometimes good people fail, and sometimes people are just bad. I'm of the rip-the-bandaid-off-quick mindset. so, in the same vein, I'm of the kill-em-before-they-do-more-damage mindset.
is it fair? no, but it's reality. is it nice? hell no. but we all make decisions, and if your decision is to make my neighborhood dangerous . . . well, that's a wound I'm willing to expose to the air. in words, at least. I'll get back to you when I've actually put words to action. they've got great computer stations at the prison here. I recognize my hypocrisy. I want to change the ghetto. but mostly, I want OUT of the ghetto. and I'm not ashamed to take donations.
25 October 2007
What's the Story, Morning Glory?
I suppose this should be an introduction. of sorts.
this is my post, so what? why does anyone do this blog thing? it's a public diary, a place where anyone can say what they want. and it's fairly anonymous, which is fantastic. of course, if you know me then it's less anonymous, but we can't have everything, can we?
not that I tend to use the royal "we" very much. maybe I'll start. it's better than using the third person, which, personally, I find incredibly annoying. plus, I can use as many commas as I want and old English-teachers-turned-friends can't mark me off for it. bwa ha ha.
I'm here because I have so many things I want to talk about and a serious lack of time to spend annoying my friends with one-sided debates and drunken aggression. also because I'm far too lazy to put something together professionally and submit it to a magazine or newspaper. the gods know that I'd love to see my words in print, blasting the foolish and haranguing the narrow-minded. and regardless, or irregardless as I prefer, of what my beloved Ann says, there isn't a place for me in literature. I'm too scattered to really pull my stories together anyway.
as you might have noticed.
so, in brief, yes, I'm female, yes, I'm over 30, yes, I'm a frustrated artist, yes, I'm a new mother (and significant other), and, yes, I do love run-on sentences and commas. I'm also fairly abrasive, rude, stubborn, offensive, and possibly quite quite mad.
I have many things I want to do in this life, many accomplishments and goals that float through my brain and desires, but the ultimate goal is to rule the world. as I keep telling people, I have all the answers. they may not like them, but I have them. believe me, I tell them all the time what they should do. I can solve everything but humanity, and then I tend to follow the idea of survival of the fittest, and/or survival of those I like. when I rule the world, and I'm not that greedy, I don't want the universe or anything, just this planet, it will be a nicer, cleaner, happier place. I'm a parent now, and the American culture dictates that I turn more conservative. but I'm also poor, undereducated, bitter and sarcastic. so I can straddle the fence with the best of the Repulicrats and Democans (thank you Ani).
so voila. this is what you get for the first blog. a nothing, going nowhere and achieving no clarity or definition. mostly I just wanted to say, yeah, I gave this blog space an obscene name because it doesn't scare me. I don't intend to mince my words because of what readers might think. I hope to use this space for honest essays on the world and it's problems, on my life and it's problems, and on stupidity and the need to slap people every moment. I don't want to have to tell you again, but I have all the answers. try me . . .
this is my post, so what? why does anyone do this blog thing? it's a public diary, a place where anyone can say what they want. and it's fairly anonymous, which is fantastic. of course, if you know me then it's less anonymous, but we can't have everything, can we?
not that I tend to use the royal "we" very much. maybe I'll start. it's better than using the third person, which, personally, I find incredibly annoying. plus, I can use as many commas as I want and old English-teachers-turned-friends can't mark me off for it. bwa ha ha.
I'm here because I have so many things I want to talk about and a serious lack of time to spend annoying my friends with one-sided debates and drunken aggression. also because I'm far too lazy to put something together professionally and submit it to a magazine or newspaper. the gods know that I'd love to see my words in print, blasting the foolish and haranguing the narrow-minded. and regardless, or irregardless as I prefer, of what my beloved Ann says, there isn't a place for me in literature. I'm too scattered to really pull my stories together anyway.
as you might have noticed.
so, in brief, yes, I'm female, yes, I'm over 30, yes, I'm a frustrated artist, yes, I'm a new mother (and significant other), and, yes, I do love run-on sentences and commas. I'm also fairly abrasive, rude, stubborn, offensive, and possibly quite quite mad.
I have many things I want to do in this life, many accomplishments and goals that float through my brain and desires, but the ultimate goal is to rule the world. as I keep telling people, I have all the answers. they may not like them, but I have them. believe me, I tell them all the time what they should do. I can solve everything but humanity, and then I tend to follow the idea of survival of the fittest, and/or survival of those I like. when I rule the world, and I'm not that greedy, I don't want the universe or anything, just this planet, it will be a nicer, cleaner, happier place. I'm a parent now, and the American culture dictates that I turn more conservative. but I'm also poor, undereducated, bitter and sarcastic. so I can straddle the fence with the best of the Repulicrats and Democans (thank you Ani).
so voila. this is what you get for the first blog. a nothing, going nowhere and achieving no clarity or definition. mostly I just wanted to say, yeah, I gave this blog space an obscene name because it doesn't scare me. I don't intend to mince my words because of what readers might think. I hope to use this space for honest essays on the world and it's problems, on my life and it's problems, and on stupidity and the need to slap people every moment. I don't want to have to tell you again, but I have all the answers. try me . . .
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