Pants and Pigtails

Jake: dude
Jake: issues
Jake: serious issues
Me: what?
Jake: I just got done looking at all your sick twisted photos of Jonathan
Jake: the "shag me" one is the worst
Me: *swoon*
Jake: alanis wannabe
Me: isn't he dreamy?
Me: you'd switch teams for him, right?
Jake: DUDE
Jake: LOOK AT HIM IN THE COWBOY HAT
Me: I did
Me: repeatedly
Jake: how can you even deny the idea that he is one hell of a jonny torch kinda guy?
Jake: FLAME ON
Me: hey, just because he's pretty, doesn't mean he's gay
Jake: it's not even the prettiness
Jake: it's the posing
Jake: the stares
Me: I know, his eyes penetrate my very soul
Me: just wait until you see the scene from Titus
Me: then you'll want him, too

And here you go! Never has jumping on a pool table looked so good.

Jonathan Rhys Meyers ("Chiron") vibrating around a dungeon

16MB/0:59/Quick Time format

This is the kind of guy for whom I, from the ages of 16 to 21, would have kicked puppies in order to gain his attention. Eaten babies, too.

I ask you – How many men can pull off the wearing of skintight red snakeskin pants? Very few. How many men can get away with wearing their hair in pigtails? Not many.

How many men can look freakishly hot while wearing skintight red snakeskin pants AND wearing their hair in pigtails? Precious few, my friends. Precious few. And when you find one, you should worship at his altar accordingly.

But What About Rodan?

Godzilla Gets Hollywood Walk of Fame Star

LOS ANGELES — Godzilla received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame on Monday, 50 years after he stomped onto movie screens and hours before the premiere of his latest film, "Godzilla: Final Wars."

Producer Shogo Tomiyama appeared at a ceremony outside Grauman's Chinese Theatre, where the 2,271st star is located, and tripped the light fantastic with the big lizard in celebration.

"I'm here representing Godzilla. Unfortunately, he cannot speak English," he said. "We're very excited he is being honored in America."

Godzilla reacted violently to the presence of the paparazzi.

On screen, the fire-breathing sea creature was spawned by nuclear weapons testing. He made his appearance in Japanese theaters in November 1954 while the United States was conducting nuclear tests in the South Pacific.

At the ceremony, Tokyo's finest appeared mostly peaceful. But let's not forget what people the world over know – Godzilla eats children.

Kiss Me, I'm Irish

Happy Thanksgiving, sweetmeats!

I'm Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, nice to meet you. Never heard of me before? I was in the movie Bend It Like Beckham playing Joe, the football coach, and I looked very hot in that film. Then again, I'm right gorgeous almost all of the time.

I've been cast as Schmendrick in the live-action version of The Last Unicorn, which means both HWG and Teem have to love me.

I'm from Ireland originally, and still live there. Some people think I can look a little strung out. I think they're just jealous of my cool hair and my come-hither stare.

Sometimes my top lip can look a little jacked up, but come on - would you kick this out of bed? Not a chance - unless it was to shag me on the floor.

Look at how pretty my eyes are (forgive me for desperately needing a wax in that photo). I look good in a suit, whether at a premiere or splayed out on a poker table. I'm all in, baby - allll in.

Sometimes I bear a striking resemblence to Joaquin Phoenix. When I was young, I used to get trapped on staircases.

I'm probably prettier than you are. But you can still take me home and play with me.

Giant Friction Blast

Liz Phair, "Supernova"

I have looked all over the place
But you have got my favorite face
Your eyelashes sparkle like gilded grass
And your lips are sweet and slippery
Like a cherub's bare wet ass

'Cause you're a human supernova
A solar superman
You're an angel with wings afire
A flying, giant friction blast

You walk in clouds of glitter and the sun reflects your eyes
And everytime the wind blows, I can smell you in the sky
Your kisses are as wicked as an F-16
And you fuck like a volcano, and you're everything to me

'Cause you're a human supernova
A solar superman
You're an angel with wings afire
A flying, giant friction blast
You're a giant, flying friction blast

30 Going On 13 (Part II)

Forgive the lateness of these updates on Roo's Birthday Weekend – Clover is going home for Thanksgiving and leaving on Wednesday, so I've been devoting my evening hours to hanging out with him.

I forgot to mention one of the coolest things at Roo's office - they have a countertop Coke fountain! The kind that mixes the actual Coke syrup with carbonated water. Best Coke I've ever had. Oh, and in other beverage news - the waiter at the Vortex, while cute and sassy, gave me a bit of the stink-eye when I ordered unsweetened iced tea.

The theme song for my visit was the new Kelly Clarkson song, which I don't know the name of, but it's the angry one where she tells someone to "shut up." We heard it approximately 1.5 million times over the course of the weekend.

SATURDAY: Roo's pilot light had gone out the day before, and one of her neighbors relit it for her ... but he apparently didn't turn some knob to ON, which meant that on Saturday morning there was no hot water available for showers. None. So Roo packed up me and Teem and took us over to Wendy's house to use the facilities there.

Wendy's house? Gorgeous. Wendy's daughter? Adorable. ("Bump, bump, bump it up!")

Lara and Roo managed showers in lukewarm water at the apartment (Roo had fiddled with the ON knob before we went over to Wendy's house). So after everyone got ready, we headed out to Lenox Square Mall. First stop was lunch at California Pizza Kitchen, where we were waited on by Enrique Iglesias. The four of us shared two appetizers (hummus and cheese foccacia) and each got a different pizza - Sante Fe Chicken (Roo), Tostada (Teem), Pear and Gorgonzola (Lara), Roasted Garlic Chicken (me). So freaking good, all of it. Teem, Lara and I all swapped pieces, and I think I liked Lara's pizza the best. Mmmm, gorgonzola.

Then we did the Massive Shopping Spree. We went to Urban Outfitters and bought pirate shirts (Teem, of course), scarves (Lara), lip balm (me), and t-shirts for our brother (Roo). Then we headed into Coach to look at the pretty, pretty purses, which made me seriously regret not having Lara order me one with her employee discount (she ordered two for Teem, and they're both gorgeous). We also hit Sephora, which was way too crowded and none of us actually bought anything. Which is shocking.

Damn, were those the only two stores we went to? I can't remember going anywhere else in that mall other than Bloomingdales, where all four of us got makeovers done at the Benefit counter. I didn't buy anything, but everyone else did. Instead of makeup I bought a DKNY Be Delicious ("Be! Delicious! Be Be Delicious!") gift set containing the perfume and a body lotion.

Oh yeah, we stopped at The Body Shop on the way out. Teem was the only purchaser there. In fact, I bought very little during this trip, which was odd (but good).

Originally we were going to go home and change for the Saturday night cookout at Roo's brother's house, but then we decided we didn't need to because we were going to go to Old Navy and buy festive stuff there. So go there we did. Actually we first ran through DSW (Designer Shoe Warehouse), bought nothing, and THEN went to Old Navy. I bought a t-shirt and a pretty scarf - black knit with gold threads woven through it.

And then we drove to Woodstock for the cookout. It was much fun meeting Roo's family – her dad is very sweet, and her sister-in-law is adorable (and very welcoming). Roo's brother is 18 feet tall and also very nice. We ate burgers, brats and birthday cake. We looked at wedding photos and played with the dogs. Roo's brother measured all the girls' heights (I think Teem and I were the tallest). Roo was gifted with Tivo, so now her life will be revolutionized just like everyone else's has been.

The cookout broke up around 1 a.m. and on the way home we stopped at Walgreens to pick up some stuff. Lara waited in the car (she was driving) while the three of us went in. I bought grape soda (Walgreens brand, which was kinda nasty) and body wash. We exited Walgreens walking like Egyptians in order to amuse Lara, but Lara was digging for something in her purse and wasn't looking. Teem Egyptianed all the way into the middle of the parking lot, to no avail.

I think I fell asleep around 3 a.m. You know how you can sometimes get slap happy and silly when you're exhausted? That was me and Teem around 2:30. We started making up new lyrics to that abysmal Nickelback song that we hate (sample lines: "I like your pants around my neck. I like the way you look at me, when you're hanging from that tree.") and singing the other theme song for the weekend - "Fly away, lesbian seeeeeeeagull."

Three Sizes Bigger

Today I received my grandfather's annual Christmastime "update" letter that he sends out to his family and friends in lieu of a card (for his grandchildren and great-grandchildren, he includes a gift check, too). It's a fairly short letter this time, as he makes reference to being in good health but "slowing down some." Aww, Grandpa, you're allowed to slow down - you're almost 96.

The letter itself is typewritten and includes some color photos on the back (my aunt's handiwork, no doubt), but he always includes a hand-written message. This year he wrote:

Very much love to you always. I hope you stay well and happy forever.

Now I'm sitting at my desk at work with tears running down my face. It's such a simple sentiment, but it's so heartfelt, and it makes me feel very special.

30 Going On 13 (Part I)

Hmm. Where to begin describing my Weekend at Roo's? I guess I will break it down by days, but let me first say that I had a FANTASTIC time – it was wonderful to see Roo and Teem again, and meeting Roo's family and friends was great. It was a whirlwind weekend filled with food, fun and frivolity (and very little sleep), and I am very happy that I could share Roo's birthday weekend in such great company.

Oh, and the phrase for the weekend was: "It's not a party until someone says penis."

FRIDAY – I flew to Atlanta at 10 a.m. I was sitting diagonally behind a guy who looked like the twin brother of Glen Phillips (Toad the Wet Sprocket lead singer), so I stared at him for the entire hour of the flight. Which was great, because Glen Phillips is really cute.

I got in at 11:30; Roo arrived shortly thereafter and we did the slow-motion run into each other's arms for hugging and squealing. Teem waltzed into the baggage claim and we did the whole slow-motion running-hugging-squealing thing again.

Roo chauffered us back to her apartment in style (aka her friend Wendy's SUV) and then gave us the grand tour. Her apartment is super cute - outrageously high ceilings, hardwood floors, tons of character. Her living room is shaped kind of like a hexagon, and her bathroom is pink. Love.

And then I met Timber for the first time. Timber is a li'l sausage of an orange striped kitty and she is undeniably adorable and friendly. Teem and I called her "Tim-MAAAY" (ala South Park) all weekend long.

By this time we were starving, so we walked across the street to The Vortex for lunch – into the skull! The Vortex promises the best hamburgers in Atlanta, and they were pretty damn good. I had a bacon cheddar cheeseburger and TATER TOTS. Our waiter was very sassy and cute.

We walked around Little 5 Points for a bit, and stopped in at Cherry Bomb, a little boutique where Wendy works. Then it was off to Roo's office downtown. We walked in and there were two people at the front desk, who gave Roo an "uh oh why are you here?" look. Roo then dragged me and Teem upstairs so we could meet her fabulous boss ... who insisted that she give us a tour of the upstairs, including the conference room. The conference room? Is someone stalling so we won't go downstairs and see Roo's office yet?

Stall, stall, stall.

We go downstairs and there's a trail of streamers and confetti leading into Roo's office. Her coworkers decorated her desk/office with party favors and streamers and birthday signs, and once Roo walked in they jumped up from behind a partition and yelled "Surprise!" Very fun, and they seem like a very nice group of people who obviously care about Roo a lot.

We left the office and headed to Perimeter Mall, getting stuck in the hellacious Atlanta traffic. We first stopped at Nordstrom, where we perused the perfume section before heading to the Stila counter. Roo sat down with Vince to get her makeup done; Teem and I wandered over to look at the sale rack of shoes. Then Teem went back and started having HER makeup done at the counter. I wasn't interested, so I ran upstairs to look at clothes.

I came back down to check in on them and the third makeup artist convinced me to sit down with him (mainly by offering me "a little slap and tickle"). His name was Christopher, and he was gay. I somehow always manage to get the gay male makeup artists. So while he was working on me we chatted about his shoe habit, his partner, his travels to Europe for shopping, where he grew up (Malibu), what we were like as teenagers (weirdly dressed freaks), tattooes, body piercings, Roo's birthday, restaurants, gay strip clubs, and getting your lips around things. Ahem.

Then we wandered the mall a little bit so Roo could find and buy black pants. A mission she accomplished. On the way out Teem and I bought Orange Juliuses. Mmm, Orange Juliuses. Then we drove out to the Choi studio so Roo could show us where she spends an inordinant amount of time, and so we could see the little kiddies taking their martial arts class (that Roo normally teaches). We met Margaret, the owner of the school, and she gave Roo a li'l gift and card.

Then we drove back to the apartment to get fancied up for dinner at a local trattoria called Il Localino.

Il Localino was one of the highlights of the weekend. It's a small place, but packed with people and there's this great familial atmosphere going. We walked in and they were playing "YMCA" on the sound system. We were seated and the owner, Papa Giovanni, came over to make small talk with Roo. He asked it if was a special occasion (we were all dressed up nicely) and as Roo said, "No!" I blurted out "YES! It's her birthday!" Muahahahaha.

Papa Giovanni put a sailor's hat on Roo and then made a big deal in telling our waiter that it was Roo's birthday, much to her chagrin. We ordered wine (reisling for me and Teem, merlot for Roo) and snacked on bread with olive oil dipping sauce, fresh parmesan, and olives. It was wonderful.

Our dinners arrived in less than 10 minutes (I had chicken piccata), making both Teem and I cringe a little bit because we knew we had to keep Roo out at dinner until at least 9 p.m., and it was only 8. Wendy and her crew were setting up for the surprise party over at Roo's apartment, and our job was to keep Roo out long enough to give her time to decorate and for the guests to arrive.

So Teem and I ate verrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrry slowly. This place was so efficient (refilling water, removing cleaned plates) that it was like they were able to anticipate your every need/want before you even had it. It was amazing.

Papa Giovanni put another hat (a tricolor with a feather on it) on Roo, and at some point a waiter came over to give her a hug. She was the woman of the hour at this place; Teem and I got no love. Our waiter brought out a slice of tiramisu with a candle in it, then led the waiters and patrons in a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday" for Roo.

At some point the man in the booth behind us got up and started dancing in the aisle to Barry White's "Can't Get Enough of Your Love" while his wife/girlfriend watched with a look of bemusement on her face. He was dancing and talking to us, and it was really funny. I'm always amazed by people who are so un-selfconscious that they can do things that might make them look silly, and they don't seem to care. This guy was in the moment, feeling the music, and so he danced. I only wish, in retrospect, I had taken him up on his offer to dance with him.

We needed to kill more time, so we ordered dessert. Teem had cannoli; I had chocolate cake with raspberry sauce. All very good. Papa Giovanni had the waiter bring each of us a red rose, which was sweet.

We paid the rilly big check and got up to leave; there were mints at the door, so Teem and Roo both took one. Roo also grabbed the box of Stila lip glaze that was sitting beside the mints, which coincidentally happened to be the lip glaze that she had thought she lost in the car. She must have dropped it between the car and the restaurant, and the person who picked it up brought it in and laid it on the counter. Which she just happened to pass. It was really kind of bizarre.

So then, FINALLY, we were able to return to the apartment. Teem dialed Wendy's cell phone from the back seat of the car (just letting it ring, not talking) so they'd know we were on our way. Roo walked in and was "Surprise!"d for the second time in one day. She claims to have known something was up, but Teem and I are good enough liars that she wasn't exactly sure what might have been planned.

I don't remember a whole lot about the party because I was all liquored up. Roo's friends are all very nice, though, and Wendy did a great job planning everything. I did learn how Wendy convinced her husband to groom his pubic hair, which was neat (the way she convinced him, not his pubes - well, until afterwards). Her husband was so good-natured about the conversation regarding his genitals, too. That's a special guy right there.

Another surprise for Roo was that her friend Lara was arriving on Friday night, rather than Saturday as she had said. But poor Lara got stuck in traffic for over four hours and didn't end up getting to the apartment until close to midnight. But Roo was VERY excited to see her, so that was nice. It was funny because several times throughout the night Roo said that she thought Lara was going to be there at the party, but she guessed she really wasn't coming in until Saturday. To which everyone else silently said, "Heh heh heh."

The party broke up ... well, late. I don't remember the time, I just know I was wiped out. Teem took the couch and I slept on the air mattress. Roo and Lara stayed up talking for awhile in the bedroom, but I'm pretty sure I was asleep within about 60 seconds of my head hitting the pillow.

Saturday/Sunday to follow (sometime).

Insert Name Here

This space soon to be filled with spine-tingling tales from my lost weekend in Atlanta.

Tonight We're Gonna Party

I am off to Atlanta to visit Roo and meet up with Teem for a weekend of booze, boys and buying. Oh, and birthdays - because today is Roo's!

Happy Birthday, Proo!!!

I will try to update from Atlanta with tales of adventure, debauchery, and babana shakes.

Midnight Toker

I'm all for the bad, bad, evil, law-breaking, won't-someone-think-of-the-children pot smokers going to jail and everything. Even more so when they're dealing the drug. But doesn't it seem that a 55-year sentence for selling marijuana is just a little bit harsh?

This leads into my problem with these mandatory minimums. You can have situations where someone committing a relatively (in comparison) minor crime can get a vastly longer prison term than someone who committed, say, murder or rape. It's all the letter of the law, true. But mandatory minimums eliminate the need for context when it comes to determining prison sentences.

One crime is worse than another, and we should let the judges, you know, judge.

Mystique's Mistake

Hey, Rebecca Romijn. You're dating Jerry O'Connell, right? Did you really want to trade down like that? Because your ex-husband, John Stamos, is looking rather deluscious. Witness the evidence:

What's up with THAT? I mean, I remember when this guy was Blackie on General Hospital, and he was cute then, but not like this. We'll just ignore the way he looked for much of Full House's run (the hair, THE HAIR!!!). It's like he hit 40 and suddenly because mind-numbingly attractive.

So that's too bad for you, Rebecca. Oh, I know - you think he was emotionally distant and he squeezed the toothpaste tube in the middle and he had the nerve to point out that one night that you laugh like a hyena. It's okay. Sometimes relationships just end and the two people go their separate ways. One goes on to become scorchingly hot, and the other goes on to ... Jerry O'Connell.

Shadkhanit!Rappy

Rappy: omg, my brother is baking something clearly descended from the heavens.
Me: your brother sounds like a catch, yo
Rappy: he totally is!
Rappy: and he thanks you for saying that.
Me: I want a guy who will bake for me, dammit
Rappy: hey, Totem just went down to my cafe, and he likes it! Approval!
Me: you didn't tell him I called him Totem, did you?
Rappy: sure I did
Me: oh lord
Rappy: I've started calling him that myself.
Me: my dorkness reaches across the Atlantic!
Rappy: ok, he just squeezed an orange for me.
Rappy: I mean to drink, not just to cop a feel
Me: can I marry him?
Me: wait, how old is he?
Rappy: he says yes
Me: this will require conversion and a change of address, won't it?
Rappy: he'd like you to know, however, that he doesn't clean under any circumstance.

Me: we'll have to hire someone, in that case, because I refuse to mop floors
Me: I'm not against vacuuming, though
Rappy: he is against vacuuming at particular times, including Friday morning.
Me: I'm laughing, now
Me: arranged marriage! perfect!
Rappy: I think so!
Rappy: And then we'd be sisters in law!
Me: yes, could you stand it?
Rappy: I don't think I could
Me: and you haven't yet confirmed I'd have to move/convert, and oh by the way, is Totem of legal age?
Rappy: 27
Rappy: his response to conversion was "fuck, no"
Me: woo hoo!
Me: I will embrace the shiksa within
Rappy: totem actually giggled about that
Me: I think I'm in love with Zach from Veiled Conceit, though
Rappy: heh
Me: you can understand why I'm in love with Zach
Rappy: you!
Rappy: are cheating on my brother!
Me: no, I'm cheating on Ian with your brother and cheating on ... wait
Me: I'm double cheating on Ian?
Rappy: I think so
Me: But Ian doesn't bake!
Rappy: hussy
Me: Clearly Ian needs to acquire that skill.
Me: Can Totem kill people if necessary?
Rappy: well, given that his basic training consisted of counting forks, I don't know, but he can operate a nuclear sub.
Me: So he can't kill people for me, but he could whisk me away to safety in a nuclear-powered submarine?
Me: that'll do
Rappy: he can FIRE the nuclear weapon
Me: oh, he can't drive?
Me: I guess I'll drive
Me: but he has to ask for directions!
Rappy: He can drive cars AND submarines, and as the submarine navigator, I'm fairly certain he could find his way around
Me: I might need proof
Me: have him draw me a map
Rappy: In Israel everyone on the subs learns all the jobs
Rappy: dude, he scored 4 points under the maximum in his SAT equivalents here. I think he's good
Me: ohhhhhh, he's smart AND good in the kitchen
Me: now I really AM interested

Holiday Grog

This looks like a really bad idea:

"Pepsi Holiday Spice gets its festive flavor from a hint of cinnamon and ginger. It's the perfect drink for sharing at holiday gatherings and celebrations or pairing with your favorite holiday treats and goodies."

I've choked down a lot of vile fluids in my lifetime, but I do believe I will take a pass on Pepsi Holiday Spice. However, someone else should try it and let me know if it's good.

I Am a Material Girl

What to wear, what to wear ...

I went to the mall last night after work, seeking out a fabulous frock for Roo's birthday festivities this weekend. We're going to an "atmospheric" restaurant on Friday night called Dante's Down the Hatch - pirates! fondue! pirates making fondue! - and us Sexy Bitches (that would be me, Roo and Teem) have decided to be good girly-girls and play dress-up.

Parties - every woman's excuse to buy new clothes.

The words of the prophet are written on the subway walls, and they say "Highwaygirl does not look good in wrap blouses." The overly-attentive (but nice) sales girl kept feeding me potentials while I was trying on everything and running each item through the necessary paces – raise arms (to check for midriff baring), sit down (to check for spillage), thrust chest out (to check for gappage). I realized that I don't like sweaters all that much, and that my body type can roughly be described as "Fred Flintstone" - all torso, stumpy little legs.

I didn't like anything (except a pair of grey pinstriped pants on sale for $20, down from $50 - pants should stop making me an offer I can't refuse!) and was about to console myself by buying a leather jacket that I don't need, but then the smell of chemically-treated cow skin started making me hallucinate, and I ran for the exit.

Straight into the arms of Auntie Anne's pretzels! How I love them so, those thin, buttery shanks of salted yeasty goodness.

Then to Dillards. I like Dillards because they always have these great 50% off sales, where you can buy Ralph Lauren shirts for only $74 unstead of $149. Sadly, I still can't rationalize dropping $74 on a shirt. My limit is apparently $49, which is the price I paid for a fcute Emma James blouse with french cuffs - I'm pretty sure I'd buy any shirt that had french cuffs. It's some sort of weird Pavlovian reaction at this point - that is "blush pink" with a black pattern that looks vaguely reminscent of the Chanel logo.

PINK, Rappy. I bought something that is pink.

I shall wear it and be a beacon of consumerism; a klieg light of conspicuous consumption.

Then I ran through the Gap to look at scarfs. I am accessories-poor and feel like all that is standing between me and sartorial greatness (and Christian Bale) is a kickass yarn-leash wrapped haphazardly around my neck – but everything was either too stripey or too fuzzy or just too UGH to warrant buying. So I'm still one step short of being an icon(oclast).

That's my goal for this shopping-weekend. Find the Scarf of Sartorial Splendor. That, and a watch.

Smile Like You Mean It

Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark!!

Me: I am so in love with Rhett Miller
Jake: you just like girly men
Jake: I mean... his name... it's RHETT for chrissake
Me: he's ADORABLE
Me: and he name drops Kafka in his lyrics
Me: he am smart
Me: I'm watching an interview with him and I just want to throw him down and lick his face
Jake: hahaha
Jake: loser
Me: if you saw him, you'd want to lick his face, too

Former Van Halen singer David Lee Roth is training to become a paramedic. Which is really cool, I think. Except the idea of Roth performing CPR on me gives me the willies.

Me: how do I add an arrow to an image?
Me: I need a preformed shape tool
Jake: just draw it
Me: yeah thanks, I have no artistic ability
Jake: it doesn't require one
Jake: I shall show you the ways of the warrior
Jake: so simple
Me: fock, I just messed up
Me: HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Jake: you must be doing it the hard way
Jake: come to me
Jake: I'm lazy
Jake: I'm like an old man
Me: no
Me: you come here
Me: because I did something
Me: and now it won't go away
Jake: but I have no legs!

I'm so proud of myself - I had an entire catching-up conversation with Phil and NOT ONCE did I say the Bad Word. I am inordinantly pleased.

Me: I'm going to come right out there and punch you in the chest, Jake

There's a movement afoot to convince me to move to Canada, and to that end certain people who shall remain nameless - and I mean that, this time - are spouting arcane trivia from the website CanadianAlternative.com. Did you know that the United Nations voted Toronto as the most multicultural city in the world? If you care about that sort of thing, you should move there.

Me (standing at Jake's desk discussing the CMS): Your bitterness and cynicism is just a self-defense mechanism.
Jake: I just know that it doesn't matter what I do. Either I will fail, or the world will fail me.
Me: I have to go write that down.

Be Who You Are

Travis, "Walking In The Sun"

I was walking along in the sun
Taking pictures of everyone
And there's something on the tip of my tongue

Well it's easy to see from afar
And it's easy to be on your guard
But it's harder just to be who you are

When all these
People wanna lead you down the back of the track
They're on your back
They will try and tear you apart
But believe and you will see that there's no reason to doubt
Then you will find
You can do much better than that

If you think of all the things that you feel
All the voices in your head that you hear
It's a mystery that we are still holding on

When all these
People wanna lead you down the back of the track
They're on your back
They will try and tear you apart
But believe and you will see that there's no reason to doubt
Then you will find
You can do much better than that

If you see me hit the ground
Don't come near, don't make a sound

I was walking along in the sun
Taking pictures of everyone
And there's something on the tip of my tongue...

Rhett Makes Me Scarlet

Hello, my name is Rhett Miller. I'm the lead singer for the Old 97's and I'm impossibly attractive.

Some people say that I need a haircut. They are wrong. My hair is perfect, and so am I. I have wonderful lips and I am likely the prettiest boy you've ever seen.

I even look good in extreme closeup, and when I've just woken up.

How many men do you know that look hot in striped shirts? Not many, I'm sure. But now, you know at least one.

I'm a sexy boy with a guitar. Feel free to worship me now.

RIP Big Baby Jesus

There's been a flood of honoraria for the dearly, and recently, departed Ol' Dirty Bastard, late of the Wu Tang Clan (and prison). Apparently he was kee-razy. I downloaded a few ODB and Wu Tang Clan songs, in order to post a track in his memory, but ... well ... the lyrics are a little, how should we say? Rough.

So instead I give you the What Is Your Wu Tang Name? generator.

Mine is Ungrateful Ninja. I also did the names for certain other people:

Teem – My Cousin the Wife-Beatah
Roo – Sullen Choirboy
Rappy – Masta Cow
Nancy – Violent Toilet Thing
Mr. Magically Delicious – Fiendish Observational Comedian

I think Blurry's is the best. From henceforth he shall be known as ... Cybernetic Tiger.

(By the way, Teem made me post Nancy's name!)

Global Warming

*waves to the visitors from Sweden, Russia and Western Europe*

I want someone to comment in Russian. Please? Or Swedish, I'm not picky. If the person from The Hague comments, it will make my year.

One other thing...

HAPPY VETERANS' DAY, PHIL! *salute*

Show Me Your Twangers

I can't decide if this clip - ostensibly from a 70s British children's television show - is real or fake. On the one hand ... it has to be fake. Has to be. Balls, twangers, and "The Plucking Song"??

On the other hand, it looks very, very real.

Vicious Viscous

*waves to the visitors from Luxembourg*

Just a couple of interesting sites to tell you about, that I plan to add to the right nav over there *points* later tonight.

Who loves Jessica? If you don't already, you should. Jessica recaps shows for TelevisionWithoutPity.com (aka TWoP) and is the sole reason I ever got into Big Brother. Both her personal website, Ultratart, and her site devoted to the fashion victimhood of both minor and major celebrities, Go Fug Yourself, are hysterical.

Ultratart recently linked to a blog that provides commentary about the people inhabiting the New York Times' weddings pages - Veiled Conceit. I think I am in love with the creator, the lovely-named Zach.

Looking for a way to kill time (at work or elsewhere)? Bust a nut with this game from Flashgames.com. And turn the music up LOUD.

Goodbye To You

Ah, Bands Reunited. How I love you so.

Last night I watched the episode featuring the '80s rock band Scandal, who had such hits as "Goodbye To You" and "The Warrior." The band had a tense breakup and hadn't been in the same room for almost 20 years.

I think that's what makes this show so good. There's conflict inherent in the reunion, but there's also the possibility of redemption. Which is the embodiment of hope. It doesn't always happen; sometimes the band members won't let go of their old grudges (hello, A Flock of Seagulls!). But when it does, it makes my heart grow three sizes bigger.

Could I have loved someone like the one I see in you
I remember the good times baby now, and the bad times too
These last few weeks of holdin' on
The days are dull, the nights are long
Guess it's better to say
Goodbye to you
– "Goodbye To You," Scandal

The show's host, Aameer (*swoon*), got singer Patty Smyth on board first. In her interview they talked about how the reunion could not be complete because one of the band members, bassist Ivan Elias (second from right in the photo on the website), had died. So Smyth is talking about what happened to him - he had always had back problems and finally got them checked out, and it turned out he had lung cancer that had spread to his spine. By the time it was discovered he was "riddled with cancer" despite only being 43 and never having smoked, and he died not long thereafter.

Then Aameer flies to NYC to meet with two other band members, and they quickly agree to the reunion. Benjy the Keyboardist is asked about Elias and his reaction ... it just got to me - he paused, then he tried to set his mouth to keep it from quivering, and then eventually he started pulling on his lip as a distraction. He'd say a few words, and then need to stop. Start, and stop. Start. And stop.

When he was finally able to talk about visiting Elias in the hospital, his voice was wavering, and that's when I burst into tears.

'Cause baby it's over now
No need to talk about it
It's not the same
My love for you's just not the same

Aameer gets the drummer to agree, then gets the band's founder - who was actually kicked out of the band at the end - to agree, and then everyone meets for the reunion and they're all happy and smiling and they talk about the tension and how things ended and they get it all out and work it all out and they reminisce about Ivan Elias and you can see, so easily, how much they all loved him. And how fond they still are of each other, even after 20 years apart.

They have their one-off reunion show in front of their fans, and all of the band members are beaming because the experience has laid to rest all of the bad feelings they had, they're feeling the bond and camaraderie with each other again, and to a person they say that they are so grateful to have been given the chance to make amends with each other.

Redemption received.

None Of That

Reverential

This morning I had a terrific conversation with Roo about Communion, and how it has a different significance for Catholics vs. Protestants. I remember when I was a kid and went to church with my grandmother, we would sometimes be treated to the whole "wafers and grape juice" thing (although sometimes the wafers were replaced with croutons, which was better, because the wafers were basically thin round discs of styrofoam).

Gramma was/is a Methodist, and I never fully understood the significance of the "thing," just that it was kind of cool to waltz up to the altar and open your mouth, stick out your tongue, and have the wafer placed upon it. Then you furled (the opposite of "unfurled") your tongue back in and savored the Spongy Disc of Tastelessness, albeit only briefly, before shotgunning the little plastic glass of grape juice. Good times, good times.

Anyway, Roo explained it all and cleared up my heathen-based beliefs, which included the notion that if I attempted to take Communion at a Catholic church that the priest would scream at me the way the pod people scream at humans in Invasion of the Body Snatchers, since he would be able to tell on sight that I'm not a Catholic and was trying to take Communion illegally (as it were). But Roo assured me that would never be the case, because the priest would at least offer me a blessing instead. Good to know!

Then I asked her a bunch of lame stuff and she got sick of my constant, unending questioning - I believe the phrase "Would you just SHUT UP already?!?" was thrown around - and she directed me to a website where I learned the difference between "Cafeteria Catholics" and "Lukewarm Catholics," and that I should "Beware the Freemasons!" And then I decided to test my new-found knowledge:

Roo: are you sitting there reading that whole thing? Hee
Me: the concernedcatholics.org site?
Roo: yeah
Me: I'm taking the Catholic IQ Test
Me: this should be amusing
Me: I got the first one right!
Me: *struts*
Roo: yay for you! I should take it and see how I do
Me: http://www.concernedcatholics.org/iq-test.htm
Roo: heh. I missed 2
Roo: I mean two questions
Me: heh, I got the question "What is Purgatory?" right
Me: good for me
Roo: good job!
Me: "YES!! You are so smart!"
Roo: is that what it says?
Me: on the rare occasion I answer correctly, yes
Roo: hahaha
Me: I got BOTH questions about the Holy Spirit correct
Me: and I know what Original Sin is
Me: wow, God waited until the fifth commandment to tell people not to kill?
Me:
Your Catholic IQ score is: 64%.
Questions answered correctly first time: 14/30
Me: that was draining
Roo: that's not bad!

Incidentally, I was lying - which is not a mortal sin! See, I learned something! - about Roo shutting me down when I asked questions. She was extremely gracious and patient in explaining different concepts to me, which is why I really enjoy talking to her about these things.

I'm Edumacated

The Cobb County (Ga.) School Board is being sued over the use of stickers in biology textbooks that refute the idea that evolution is a fact (calling it, instead, a "theory"). This is the part that stands out for me:

I'm just not sure that the place for this is a biology textbook. Biology is a science, not a religion, and therefore it's not surprising that the text would speak about scientific principles rather than religious ones. I also don't think that protecting feelings is a good enough reason to alter a textbook.

But maybe the school board should leave those stickers in the textbooks, seeing as how the recent discovery of miniature humans is apparently bursting the bubble of evolutionary thought (at least as it currently stands).

I'm starting to think that, in addition to English, math, science and history, high school students should be required to take a class on world religions. No emphasis on Christianity, but rather a balanced course that outlines the major world religions, their origins/histories, basic beliefs, etc. I know that understanding religious doctrines isn't really necessary, but isn't the point of education to prepare young people to be successful in the world? To be of the world, and in the world, it helps to understand the world around you ... and I don't think anyone can deny that religious beliefs play a huge role in various global issues.

In other words, how much math does a person really need to know in order to get by? Addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, for the most part. Your average high school freshman already knows all of those concepts (hopefully), but we still require those students to take an additional 3+ years of math. Why? Because we believe that further knowledge of things like geometry and trigonometry and calculus (if you're a masochist) - even if they're not used on a daily basis - will give people additional skills with which to succeed.

How much history do you need to know? Is it really important to know what happened before the Industrial Revolution? We memorize historical facts, but can they be applied to modern life? I know that Christopher Columbus discovered America - but so what? What does knowing that do for me, other than elevate me (in a horribly classist way) above people who haven't memorized that fact?

Maybe another value of education - beyond basic living skills - is in giving people the means to place themselves, and the world, in context. It's for that reason that I think high school students would benefit from being required to learn about different religious beliefs.

To Hell They Will Go

I've been reading various news reports over the last two days regarding the new assault on Falluja, and there was one exchange reported by various media outlets that has really stuck with me.

Or maybe we'll see "Grand Theft Auto: To Hell They Will Go" in Target next Christmas.

I keep trying to picture the exchange, with the soldiers shouting and Allawi - who takes on a very John Wayne persona - responding, and it seems almost ... life-affirming, in a weird way. There's something inherently attractive (not physically, but mentally) about people who are that passionate about something. Within limits, of course. Maybe it's because I'm not personally religious that I find other people's beliefs - and how they're manifested - so interesting.

Spitting Games

Me: *sigh*
Roo: what?
Me: this song makes me feel melancholy
Me: *skips it*
Me: because this is a melancholy-free day!
Roo: oh boy
Roo: did you have morning sex?
Me: *shocked face*
Me: why would you ask such a thing?
Roo: because you are in an EXTRAORDINARILY good mood
Me: can't one just be in a really good mood?
Me: *halo smiley*
Roo: hee
Me: I did have a good morning, yes
Me: I feel like ... a pinball
Roo: eww!
Me: huh?
Me: bouncing off everything, not staying still
Roo: Oh. sorry...I thought that was a sex euphemism
Me: eww!
Me: no!
Roo: I was imagining that little thing that pulls back and hits the ball!
Me: EWW!
Me: STOP!
Roo: well!

And then later on, just when you think it's safe to go back into the water...

Roo: don't you love it when you go to drink something and instead just pour it down your face? yeah.
Me: I do love that, actually
Me: It reminds me that I am, in essence, a colossal dork
Me: But a loveable, well-meaning one
Roo: ah...well I never need reminding of my own dorkiness
Me: embrace the dork within, that's my motto
Me: (and not the "fork" within, as I first typed)
Roo: sadly, though...my dork is not within, but definitely out
Me: hahahaha
Me: embrace the dork without!

It wouldn't be a Friends entry without some mention of Teem!

Me: I'm going to kill myself or someone like me if Hollywood Video doesn't get "Dawn of the Dead" in stock soon
Rappy: is there no other video store?
Me: no other I have a membership with
Me: HAHAHAHA
Me: Teem rocks
Me: she commented on my site
Rappy: HA!
Rappy: she's insane.
Me: HA!
Me: She's my idol
Rappy: *pouts*
Rappy: I wanna be your idol *WHINE*
Me: You're my idol too
Me: I have a tripartite system of idolatry
Me: You, Teem and Roo
Me: Kinda like ...
Me: Father, Son, Holy Ghost
Me: only not literally
Me: not even figuratively
Me: Since you're, you know, Jewish and stuff

I freely admit that I actually stealered this idea from someone else. So the first one to market wins.

Me: Jake-y Jake-y Jake-yyyyyyyyyyyy
Me: I made you out of clay!
Jake: I'm thinking big posters with that on it... followed by my cell number... plastered all over the city
Me: I can't get behind violence against squirrels, sorry
Jake: hahaha
Me: I already know what my big money-making enterprise will be
Jake: assassin?
Me: Christian strip clubs
Me: Strippin' for Jesus
Jake: ahahahahahahahahahaha
Me: I'm totally serious
Jake: pure genius
Me: I could become a billionaire, easily
Me: Strippers gyrating 'round poles with hymns playing in the background
Me: Or stripping to audio of sermons by Jerry Falwell
Jake: hahhhaahahhaah
Me: Every table has a Bible
Me: and a collection plate
Jake: hahahaha brilliance
Me: Instead of "lap dances" we have "communion cuddles"
Jake: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Me: Where the stripper feeds the guy a wafer (the body of christ) and a small thimble full of wine (the blood)
Me: I've thought about this, and I think it can work
Jake: hahahahaha billionaire
Me: of course, I will likely be killed by right wing zealots
Me: It's all for the man upstairs
Me: and therefore, pure
Me: Jesus wants you to love your body
Me: or hers
Me: just from afar

A blank canvas, an unmolded lump of clay, and an empty vessel.

Me: to quote Gertrude Stein - "there's no THERE, there"
Roo: exactly

On My Knees I Think Clearer

I am so haaaaaaaaaaappy, so HAAAAAAAAAAPPYYYYYYYYY todaaaaaaaaaaaaay. I was a little late for work this morning but it was TOTALLY WORTH IT.

*skips around the office, handing out daisies*

The title of this entry is a line from a song by Snow Patrol (today's official sponsor), so stop thinking what you're thinking.

But after that the floodgates opened up
And I fell in love with everyone I saw
Please take your time I'm not in any rush
And it's in everything I ever write
– "Spitting Games," Snow Patrol

The people who like to read hidden messages into my selection of song lyrics, well, you've got your work cut out for you today. Because they all mean multiple things! They could be referencing multiple individuals! Or multiple situations! They might be about people, but they might be about inanimate objects (although with some people I know, you could argue it's the same thing).

Or hey! Maybe they mean nothing of significance - I just like the way they sound.

On Sunday - was it Sunday? - I bought the new CD from Travis, Singles, which is exactly that, a collection of all the band's singles. Did I need this? No. Do I already have all these songs? Yes. But now I have most of the band's really good songs on one disk. Because I am willing to pay for convenience.

Plus, it has the new single, "Walking In the Sun". Which I'll post here at some point. But now I need to go back to listening to Snow Patrol.

This is the straw, final straw in the
Roof of my mouth as I lie to you
Just because I'm sorry doesn't mean
I didn't enjoy it at the time
– "Chocolate," Snow Patrol

There's no reason for this song to be called "Chocolate." Nowhere in the song is the word used, and I feel safe in saying the song isn't about chocolate, or a metaphor for chocolate. It's an excellent song whose title has no significance. Many of the songs on this CD are like that, and that makes me happy, because it shows me that Gary Lightbody (the singer) is non-linear. Or maybe just a git. But I feel a certain sense of sympatico with him, on account of my refusal to ever buy greeting cards that contain verses that rhyme. I hate that. HATE. You're trying to say something meaningful and special and you limit yourself to words that rhyme with each other? Say no!

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear
– "Run," Snow Patrol

I'm going to go back and add links to all these songs later. I love listening to this song over and over because of the way Gary Lightbody sings "go" and "done" and "barely look" and "you" and "do" and "where" and "here" and "hear" and "dear" and "louder" and "those eyes" and "goodbye" and "nearly" and "slower" and "have" and "for" and "easier way" and "little heads" and "have heart, my dear."

Okay, I think that covers it. I really need to go to Ireland and find myself a good Irish boy to take up with, and then make him talk to me all day and all night.

Maybe you thought of it first
Maybe I get all the praise
Is there a place I can go?
Is there a light to get me there?
– "Tiny Little Fractures," Snow Patrol

Come to think of it, this song's title isn't included in the lyrics, either. Same goes for "Run" and "Spitting Games." Hmm. Now I'm finding this a little annoying. Because I'm referring to songs by their track number rather than their name ... because I can never remember their names, because they're not referred to in the lyrics.

Wow. I turned around quickly on that.

Mr. Bluebird On My Shoulder

I think someone broke the time-space continuum. Because this weekend has seemed twice as long as it really has been. Which you'd think would be good, because weekends are never long enough, right? Nuh uh. It's really thrown me off.

It started Friday night. I had big plans for Friday night. But I felt so horribly sick right before leaving work - greeeat way to start the weekend - that I scrapped them all in favor of taking an extra long, extra hot shower and curling up on the couch with a heating pad, a boy, a cat named Caygeon, and TiVo. I think I went to bed before 10 p.m.

Saturday morning I got up early, got ready, went to the post office (mailing a Sephora return and a package for D_A - yes, finally! Be on the lookout for it, it's a medium-sized box), went to CVS (girl stuff and Welch's grape soda), and finally ended up at Old Navy. I wanted to look for dark brown cords for me (since I broke my original pair on Thursday) and that cool sweater for Clover.

I couldn't find the sweater at all, and I couldn't find the cords in my size. Bastards. I found a different style of cords in a pretty caramel color, but in wearing them for 20 minutes at home they've already become too loose. So I'll take them back today and see if they have a smaller size available (they were on clearance, so pickings were already slim). I also picked up two turtleneck sweaters from the men's section, in black and heather olive (mine don't have those silly labels, though).

Surprisingly, I think I love them. They look great on me - they're long in the torso (most women's styles look too short on me), a bit long in the sleeves (which is good, because I like to pull them down over my hands a little), and they grab nicely in the chestal region. Plus, I can wear my hair up with them because the sweater covers the scar on the back of my neck.

I think I'm going back for the heather charcoal, too.

I came home and took a nap from 3-4:30, and that really screwed me up because the rest of the night I kept thinking it was about two hours later than it really was. I thought the night would never, ever end. But that was pretty much fine, considering the company. We watched two episodes of Without a Trace, three of Futurama (with commentary on), then made popcorn and settled in to watch Army of Darkness.

We've just woken up, and now Clover is about to go running. I am about to go get pancakes. But first I will feed the cats, because I think Caygeon has designs on gouging my eyes out if I don't feed her within the next 60 seconds.

Sparkle Motion

Me: CAN YOU SEE ME NOW?
Jake: can you KILL me now?
Me: hahaha
Jake: I'm blasting PF's Comfortably Numb right now
Jake: Trying to zone out
Me: it's only 8:17 am, Jake
Me: it's a little early to ask me to kill you
Jake: Man, I really need to become a drug addict

More political fire and brimstone - how's THAT for separation of church and state? - from columnists at the New York Times. Bob Herbert says that Bush campaigned on fear:

Roo: ooooh! look at your journal today!
Roo: *bounces*
Me: what's wrong with it?
Me: did it explode?
Roo: hee
Roo: Friday I'm in LOOOOOVE
Me: *twirls*
Me: http://www.oldnavy.com/asp/Product.asp?wdid=10065&wpid=265095
Me: that's so classic looking
Me: I might buy that for Ian
Me: or me
Roo: hee. or both!
Roo: I love shopping for boys
Me: probably myself
Me: brb
Me: sweet jesus
Me: it is days like this when I wish the chemo HAD made me sterile
Roo: aww...I'm so sorry
Me: we will go out trolling for boys two weeks from tonight!
Me: I will be your Wingman

Texas is wasting no time changing their textbooks in order to eliminate ambiguous, asexual language. Because god forbid we let people make their own decisions about things; we must specifically tell them what to believe. Plus, starting to teach intolerance early - say, in middle school - gives you that much more opportunity to really make your biases take hold in those impressionable minds.

Speaking of Texas ...

Me: I see your AIM icon
Me: I want to play poker too!
Coworker: Oh really!!!
Me: texas hold 'em!
Me: *throws down*
Coworker: outstanding
Coworker: you will play
Coworker: oh yes
Coworker: you will play
Me: I've learned everything I know from Phil on Celebrity Poker Championship
Me: and from the World Poker Tournament
Coworker: are you entry level?
Me: I can't kick your ass, no
Me: but I understand the game
Coworker: outstanding
Me: but I start to bet emotionally and then I need you to punch me in the face
Coworker: Can I count on you for the big money games?
Me: please, we work at the same place
Me: you know I must be poor
Coworker: all those hours??
Coworker: don't be shy
Coworker: you're too humble
Me: yes, but I have those other addictions to feed
Coworker: I won't ask
Me: Well I'm totally in, but I'm not going to be throwing down big money
Me: I just want to say "I'm ALL IN"

And after work, Clover and I are going shopping! *screams*

Friday Never Hesitate

The Cure, "Friday I'm In Love"

I don't care if Monday's blue
Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too
Thursday I don't care about you
It's Friday I'm in love

Monday you can fall apart
Tuesday, Wednesday break my heart
Oh Thursday doesn't even start
It's Friday I'm in love

Saturday wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate

I don't care if Monday's black
Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack
Thursday never looking back
It's Friday I'm in love

Monday you can hold your head
Tuesday, Wednesday stay in bed
Or Thursday watch the walls instead
It's Friday I'm in love

Saturday wait
And Sunday always comes too late
But Friday never hesitate

Dressed up to the eyes
It's a wonderful surprise
To see your shoes and your spirits rise
Throwing out your frown
And just smiling at the sound
Sleek as a shriek
Spinning round and round
Always take a big bite
It's such a gorgeous sight
To see you eat in the middle of the night
You can never get enough
Enough of this stuff
It's Friday I'm in love

In the Closet

As in, that's where I'll be hiding for the next four years. With Colin Powell.

Vice President Dick Cheney said that the president had run his campaign "forthrightly on a clear agenda for this nation's future, and the nation responded by giving him a mandate." Not in 11 states we didn't! At least not legally.

Here's the next thing to fear - Supreme Court nominations. The possibilities of who Bush might nominate almost make me hope that Rehnquist sticks around for awhile longer. Almost. The devil you know, and all that stuff.

Interesting reading on NYTimes.com today, including an op-ed contribution by Garry Willis called, "The Day the Enlightenment Went Out". Willis asserts that the U.S. is getting away from the values under which it was formed, and becoming more and more like its stated enemies:

Maureen O'Dowd's column is scathingly funny, but only in an "oh dear lrod what have we gotten ourselves into?" sort of way. She points out that no matter how right-wing one might find Bush, some of the newest senators are even worse:

I still think Bill Frist is the real enemy. He is pure, unadulterated EVIL. Evil with a cherry on top.

Thomas Friedman's column does a nice job of explaining how I feel about "evangelical Christians" determining our form of government (emphasis mine):

Crash Into Me

Okay, this is an anti-Bush advertisement (you need QuickTime to view it, but it's worth it), and the ending has some profanity (bleeped out), but it made me snort when I heard it. The actress, whomever she is, really sells it. And I love the squirrel running through the background midway through the shot.

I got rear-ended three times yesterday afternoon - by the same man. I was first in line at a stoplight, minding my own business, listening to Snow Patrol and rocking out, when the Oldsmobuick behind me tapped my bumper. Very lightly, though; he must have just rolled into me.

So I check out the situation in my rearview mirror, and see that the very old man has put his car in reverse and is backing up. I wasn't going to even bother getting out of my car to check the bumper, since he was probably only going about 5 mph when he hit me.

I resumed rocking out, and then ...

*BUMP*

The old man hit me AGAIN! Very lightly, but still!! So now I'm watching his every move in my rearview mirror. He backs up again - I can see his wife, who is in the passenger seat, gesticulating wildly - and then he puts the car in drive and then he gives it some gas to go forward and I'm watching watching watching and then ...

HE HITS ME AGAIN.

Which is when I decided I was going to have to get out of my car and somehow dissuade this guy from his apparent desire to be a battering ram. I put my car in park and turn off the ignition, then I get out and go to the man's window. He's dazed. His wife is screaming at him. He's fumbling with the shifter and looking around. His wife screams more and tells him to take the keys out. I'm standing on the curb, at a safe distance, hoping he doesn't jam on the gas instead and send my car hurtling out into a busy intersection.

The wife gets the keys out of the ignition, steps out of the car, then leans in to tell the man to GET OUT RIGHT NOW. He steps out and I ask him if he's okay, and he starts crying. The wife goes to check my bumper, so I joined her - there's not even a scratch on it. I tell her the bumper doesn't matter; I'm more concerned about the man. She tells me he's on medication.

Me: "So why aren't you driving?"
Woman: "Because I don't know how."
Me: *stares*

So I help get the man into the back seat of his car, get my car out of the intersection, go BACK and drive their car out of the turn lane and into a gas station, and then wish them luck - the wife was on the pay phone calling someone - and go on my way.

It was just sad. The wife screaming at the poor man, the man being so out of it on meds, both of them thinking he was in any condition to drive ... I understand wanting to maintain your independence in your old age, but not at the expense of your and others' safety.

Anyway, I consoled myself by buying a sage green suede jacket that night at the Nordstrom Half Yearly sale.

With This Ring

This is so unpleasant and distressing (yet not at all surprising):

Voters in 11 States Reject Gay Marriage

This almost upsets me more than the result of the presidential election. Almost 90% of voters in Mississippi voted for an amendment banning gays from legally marrying? I just don't understand why your average person really cares. Unless a gay person gaining the right to marry meant that heterosexuals would lose the same right, so what?

Give 'em the right to have big expensive (yet boring) parties. Give 'em the right to be equally accountable for each other's debts. Give 'em the right to visit each other in the hospital.

Is that really asking so much?

I'm sure this issue will get onto a ballot in Florida at some point, and when it does I am sadly sure that it will pass. The only thing that I'm "happy" about with this is that these are amendments to STATE constitutions. Don't get me wrong, that's bad enough. I just live in trepidation of the time when a president (and I'm looking at you, Georgie) tries to amend the U.S. Constitution with this nonsense. That's when the real psychological dischord will begin.

I don't understand how anyone who believes in democracy - as you'd suspect a president would - could argue that amending the U.S. CONSTITUTION for the specific purpose of denying rights to a group of citizens is reflective of this country's traditions and values. Not even close. The Constitution should never be used to exclude people, especially when it's being done so solely to reflect one group's Judeo-Christian morality.

The Sky's Gone Out

When the official announcement of Bush's reelection comes, I plan to:

a.) Accept defeat graciously
b.) Rage against the machine
c.) Relocate to Cuba
d.) Spend the next 48 consecutive hours covering the walls and ceiling of my bedroom with a giant collage using images of Bush administration officials, war atrocities, industrial accidents and meat packing plants, then lay naked on the floor in the fetal position until an angel of the Lord comes to give me my mission.

Touch Me, I'm Sick

I don't know why that song title just popped into my head. Was that a Green River song, or was it Mudhoney? I don't care enough to look it up. Seattle grunge, at any rate.

11:52 p.m. – Well, it has happened; I want sleep more than I want to find out who won the election. Sleep always wins with me.

11:34 p.m. – My NBC network has been on local coverage for the last 20 minutes and I don't care. I'm giving this horrible, horrible thing until midnight to resolve itself, and then I'm going to bed and denying the existence of this apparent reality.

11:02 p.m. – Bush leads 197-188 with CNN calling California for Kerry and Idaho for Un Petite Tyrant.

10:58 p.m. – Hope springs eternal, as Kerry pulls within 193-133 by winning Pennsylvania. California, which is solidly Democrat, carries 55 electoral votes, so ... I guess it's not over yet. But Florida is going Bush, I can just feel it. *crosses fingers for Ohio pulling through for Kerry*

10:47 p.m. – God, whatever. I'm going to wake up tomorrow morning and the sky will be black and the air will be filled with ash and brimstone and the sun will be in eclipse and birds will be speaking in tongues and time will move in reverse and and and ... *cries*

10:07 p.m. – Even Jon Stewart isn't making this better. A guy whom I haven't talked to in a few years, Eric, messaged me and now we're talking about how many gay guys he knows support Bush. That defies logic. But he does live in Texas, so maybe that explains everything.

9:44 p.m. – Kerry comes back a bit in Florida; the popular vote is now 52-47% for Bush. Pennsylvania is tracking heavily for Kerry; Ohio might be our last great hope for regime change. Nausea Level is at DEFCON 3.

9:27 p.m. – I've just opened my fourth Diet Sunkist of the night and have resigned myself to feeling like hell, stomach-wise, tomorrow.

9:07 p.m.
HWG: *sigh*
HWG: 156-112, Bush
Teem: nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
HWG: the key states still not reporting
Teem: AAAAAAAARGH
Teem: *sits on pins and needles*
Teem: ow.
HWG: I'm not sure whether or not I'd like to have Bush just barely beat Kerry, or kick his ass
Teem: barely beat him
Teem: noooooooooooo, Ohio is leaning to Bush!
HWG: I hate Florida
HWG: I hate Ohio, too
Teem: you die, Ohio! You die and you go to HELL!

9:00 p.m. – Teem is online, so we're commiserating. Florida is still too close to call, but exit polls (bad for Bush) don't appear to match actual vote tallies (good for Bush). Which is BAD. Very bad. And I'm eating hummus again.

8:44 p.m. – South Carolina and Virginia go to Bush. *glares*

8:22 p.m. – Bush takes the lead, 81-77, after taking North Carolina. Russert chants "OhioOhioOhio" and "FloridaFloridaFlorida" because, apparently, NO OTHER STATE MATTERS!! Woo!! Doesn't that mean my vote for Kerry should count, say, 25 times? And Brokaw just said he didn't want to leave other states out. Oh Tom, quit trying to be so inclusionary.

8:15 p.m. – Bush leads Kerry in Florida in the popular vote, 55-45%. C'mon you Wangers! Don't vote for your spiritual leader! Only one-fifth of the precincts are reporting, so there's still plenty of room for Floridians, as a whole, to wise up. Ooh! Tom Brokaw is now going to Tampa - ewww, he's throwing it over to Ralph Reed, who is blessedly having mic issues and so I have avoided Satan, Jr. for the moment. Brokaw starts talking to my crush, Tim Russert, and I celebrate by consuming Edy's Whole Fruit Strawberry Banana sorbet.

8:00 p.m. – John Kerry leads in the electoral votes, 77-66. For the moment. I'm trying not to eat more roasted garlic hummus, but I feel stressed right now, and it makes me feel all warm and happy inside. Much in the same way drinking napalm might.

Waiting To Exhale

It's only 7:55 p.m. and I already feel nauseated. I should probably just go to bed, but I can't stop watching.

A couple of random things before I post this: I ran across the animated short "I Am a Desexed Pussy Cat" today, and it's hysterical (avoid if you don't like explicit humor). And Guster gave me Reason #589 to love them by sending me an e-mail today with the subject line, "Don't blame me, I voted for Kodos." It opened by saying:

Full Of Sound and Fury

*struts around proudly showing off I VOTED sticker*

My sticker actually says I MADE FREEDOM COUNT - I VOTED. Damn skippy. I waited in the line for precinct 617 (which is what is listed on my voter registration card) for 45 minutes, which I didn't think was too bad for 11 a.m. I got up to the line for E-H last names and handed over my driver's license and then was told that I'm "not in this precinct."

I just KNEW those people were going to try and suppress my vote!

Me: I wonder if he missed it, or decided not to go
Jake: I wonder if I should kill myself or not
Me: not yet, but soon
Jake: soon, very soon

So I whip out my actual voter registration card and show it. Which is when I'm told that it's an old card, and they've had lots of people from my street come in with old cards. We're really supposed to be in precinct 654. Fortunately, that precinct was 10 feet away on the other side of the church auditorium.

In conclusion, my vote has been cast and my civic duty performed. Now I feel qualified to bitch and moan about the results of this election for all eternity.

Me: god dammit, why couldn't Al-Jazeera release this yesterday???
Me: Link to He's an Evil (But Smart) Bastard That Bin Laden story
Jake: yeah read that.... I think it makes a lot of sense
Jake: he's a smart evil bastard
Jake: just like bush
Jake: well
Jake: bush is a stupid evil bastard
Me: well that's the thing - he's always been smart, and that's the biggest problem
Me: these people aren't stupid, unfortunately
Jake: As for President Bush's Iraq policy, Bin Laden said, "the darkness of black gold blurred his vision and insight, and he gave priority to private interests over the public interests of America.

"So the war went ahead, the death toll rose, the American economy bled, and Bush became embroiled in the swamps of Iraq that threaten his future," bin Laden said.

Jake: he's absolutely correct
Jake: he had a master plan all along
Jake: he knew bush would be stupid enough to do it
Me: yep, and this part too
Me: "All that we have to do is to send two mujahedeen to the furthest point east to raise a piece of cloth on which is written al Qaeda, in order to make generals race there to cause America to suffer human, economic and political losses without their achieving anything of note other than some benefits for their private corporations," bin Laden said.
Jake: yep
Jake: we are a joke
Me: we are puppets
Jake: oh yeah, and I heard on the radio this morning that bush and kerry spent a combined total of 600 MILLION DOLLARS on campaigns
Me: marionettes
Jake: what a bloody waste
Me: dancing for bin Laden
Jake: I think I'm gonna move to Canada
Me: I'm moving to New Zealand
Jake: ha
Me: Thousands of sheep ... another four years of Bush ...
Me: Thousands of sheep ... another four years of Bush ...
Me: it's not a difficult choice
Jake: sheep in single file
Me: amen, brother

Raise Your Voice

Happy Election Day!

You say you want a revolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world

Finally, it is Time. Hopefully a new day is dawning. A day when I can turn on my television and not see a political advertisement. A day when I can come home from work and not have messages on my answering machine from celebrities encouraging me to vote.

A day that, I fear, will live in infamy.

I was living in North Carolina for the 2000 election, working at Total Sports. I voted for Gore, dammit. I remember that I was working the night shift (6 p.m. to whenever) on Election Night, and it was quite the exciting time watching the returns come in on the networks.

Of course, that led to both confusion and abject depression. But still exciting!

You tell me that it's evolution
Well you know
We all want to change the world

I forgot my Who To Vote For cheat sheet at the office (I've got all the major players covered, but when it comes to referendums and amendments and school board openings, I can't keep it all straight), so I won't be able to vote before work this morning. Which means I'll be queueing up to vote after work.

I know my rights, though - if I'm in line before 7 p.m., you have to let me vote no matter how long it takes. So I will not be denied! Wraugh!

Anyway, I hope you all get out there and vote, no matter which candidate you support. As nasty as this election has become in some ways, I think it's wonderful that so many people plan to be involved in the process.

Don't you know it's gonna be alright...

Nothing Or No One

Siouxie and the Banshees, "Kiss Them For Me"

It glittered and it gleamed
For the arriving beauty queen
A ring and a car
Now you're the prettiest by far

No party she'd not attend
No invitation she wouldn't send
Transfixed by the inner sound
Of your promise to be found

"Nothing or no one
Will ever make me let you down"

Kiss them for me, I may be delayed
Kiss them for me, if I am delayed

It's divine, oh it's serene
In the fountains pink champagne
Someone carving their devotion
In the heart shaped pool of fame

"Nothing or no one
Will ever make me let you down"

Kiss them for me, I may be delayed
Kiss them for me, I may find myself delayed

On the road to New Orleans
A spray of stars hit the screen
As the 10th impact shimmered
The forbidden candles beamed

Kiss them for me, I may be delayed
Kiss them for me, I may find myself delayed

99.44% Pure

Full Disclosure: I stole this from Steph's website.

You Are Not Scary

Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet?

My Tra La La

(I meant to post this Friday after work, but then I got ... distracted.)

George Carlin speaks the truth, including this luscious little offering:

Me: why did I get here early?
Me: WHY?!?
Jake: it's simple
Jake: you're stupid
Jake: like me
Jake: and the rest of us
Jake: JOY
Me: you have to cheer me up today by being even more bitter and cynical than usual
Me: my fish died yesterday
Me: and I am very sad
Jake: damn, that sucks
Me: I had him for 2.5 years
Jake: That sounds like a long lifespan for a fish
Jake: What happened?
Me: he was just really old, and he had a tumor for the last six months
Me: he lived about a year longer than expected
Jake: I take it it wasn't a goldfish then
Me: a betta fish. Otis Redding.
Jake: hahaha
Me: honor his memory, dammit!

Jake: it's more than that
Jake: it's fucking retarded
Jake: with a cherry on top