Like Steve McQueen...

We got rockstars in the Whitehouse
All our popstars look like porn
All my heroes hit the highway
They don't hang out here no more
You can call me anytime
You can page me all night long
But you won't catch this freebird
I'll already be long gone
Like Steve McQueen
All we need's a fast machine
And we're gonna make it all right...

~Sheryl Crow

Manolo What?

I've recently come to the realization that I need to just give up on eternal love and happiness... what I really need to do is marry some rich desperate guy and change the damn locks! Seriously. Then I can be left alone with my cat and spend as much money as I see fit. When I'm bored at work (which is often this time of year), I shop online. I go home at night, look at the distaster area that is my bedroom and think, "No human on earth needs this much clothing." Then, the next morning, I stand in front of my closet and think, "Oh my God, I have NOTHING TO WEAR!!". In the last 24 hours, I have purchased 3 pairs of shoes. Online. And by shoes I mean sandals. None of them were vital or necessary... but very cute. And on SALE!

See? I need help. Thank goodness for the fact that I have to go to class in about 10 minutes... who knows how much money I could theoretically spend in the 6 hours I'll be trapped in a stuffy classroom instead...

Words to Live By

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

~Maya Angelou

QAD 4/13/06

I'm tired.


Most Americans do not yet realize that a war is being waged
- not against Iraq but against each of us. It is not the
Republican Party that is charge in this administration but
a small cadre who seized executive branch power and
converted it to their own uses. Most Republicans are
experiencing a deer-in-the-headlights moment right now.
Their Party has been hijacked, their president has been
hijacked, and they do not know what to do. I remain a
registered Republican working for an effective coalition.
--Melinda Pillsbury-Foster

Appropriate

Appropriately enough...


Happiness cannot come from without. It must come from
within. It is not what we see and touch or that which
others do for us which makes us happy; it is that which
we think and feel and do, first for the other fellow and
then for ourselves.
--Helen Keller

It's Like Fishing

This is how Dictionary.com defines the terms 'happy' and 'happiness':

hap·py
adj. hap·pi·er, hap·pi·est

1. Characterized by good luck; fortunate.
2. Enjoying, showing, or marked by pleasure, satisfaction, or joy.
3. Being especially well-adapted; felicitous: a happy turn of phrase.
4. Cheerful; willing: happy to help.
5. 1. Characterized by a spontaneous or obsessive inclination to use something. Often used in combination: trigger-happy.
   2. Enthusiastic about or involved with to a disproportionate degree. Often used in combination: money-happy; clothes-happy.

It's been the topic of some discussion in my life this weekend. I find this definition to be rather... vague and uninspiring. Ultimately, happiness is something that every human is striving for. We're all constantly looking for that one thing or person or place that will make us 'happy'. Quite frequently, once we find it, we quickly start looking for something else that will make us 'happier'.

My question is what is it exactly, and when you pin the concept down, does 'happiness' really even exist as a tangible something to be obtained? I am more of the mind that happiness is a process, a journey, and an exploration. Would it exist without the search? I tend to feel that it's more of a concept that we as humans have created to help get us through the interminable days and weeks and years of our rather monotonous existence. It's an idea, like God, religion, and the meaning of life. Created by us at the beginning of time to give us a reason to get up in the morning and continue putting one foot in front of the other. When people ask me if I'm 'happy', I say yes. My life is full of wonderful people and things and places that offer me beauty and support every minute of every day. Yet there are those who would argue that I'm not happy - that I'm missing something that would make me 'truly happy'.

My argument is... is anyone ever truly happy? Aren't we all always waiting on the next best thing? In the words of Matchbox 20 - is happiness a mat that sits on our doorway? Or is it more like Our Lady Peace - happiness is not a fish you can catch...?

Have You Seen My Stapler?

Today is inspired by a text-conversation I've been having with an equally bored, mind-numbed friend. Today is officially "Office Space Quote Day"!

Bob Porter: We'll be getting rid of these people here... First, Mr. Samir Naga... Naga... Naga... Not gonna work here anymore, anyway.

Peter Gibbons: Doesn't it bother you that you have to get up in the morning and you have to put on a bunch of pieces of flair?
Joanna: Yeah, but I'm not about to go in and start taking money from the register.
Peter Gibbons: Well, maybe you should. You know, the Nazis had pieces of flair that they made the Jews wear.

Milton Waddams: I was told that I could listen to the radio at a reasonable volume from nine to eleven, I told bill that if Sandra is going to listen to her headphones while she's filing then I should be able to listen to the radio while I'm collating so I don't see why I should have to turn down the radio because I enjoy listening at a reasonable volume from nine to eleven.

Milton Waddams: Mr. Lumbergh told me to talk to payroll and payroll told me to talk to Mr. Lumbergh and I still have not received my paycheck and they moved my desk to storage room B and there was garbage on it.

Bob Porter: Looks like you've been missing a lot of work lately.
Peter Gibbons: Well, I wouldn't exactly say I've been *missing* it, Bob.

Please add your favorites at your leisure...

Top Ten at 2:10

I've decided that I am a big fan of top ten lists. Today, I will be doing this Letterman-Style, counting down to the big #1. Our topic will be "You Have No Chance in Hell of Dating Me Because..."

10. You spend hours waxing and detailing your Ford truck

9. You use the phrase "I seen" in regular conversation and/or have a nickname similar to "Frank The Tank"

8. You are the guy handing me coffee at Dunkin Donuts

7. You are not old enough to buy me a drink

6. You are old enough to own a AARP card

5. You are missing teeth and/or have gold replacements

4. You own a Hummer or Hummer-sized vehicle

3. You previously have dated one of my good friends

2. You previous have dated ME

1. You are a Republican and/or voted for George Bush... EVER

Sounds Like A Bad Joke...

Q: How many grown men does it take to plug in a printer?

A: In my office, apparently 3. 1 to plug and 2 to scratch their balls and grunt.

People Shouldn't Breed Because...

If my kid (or your kid) ever pulls this shit on my watch, I'm totally leaving his ass in there....

Stupid Kid Gets Stuck In Toy Machine

Over My Head (Cable Car)

I'm really feeling this song this week. Not even sure I know where they're going, but I like it....

I never knew
I never knew that everything was falling through
That everyone I knew was waiting on a queue
To turn and run when all I needed was the truth
But that's how it's got to be
It's coming down to nothing more than apathy
I'd rather run the other way than stay and see
The smoke and who's still standing when it clears

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She's on your mind

Let's rearrange
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage
Say that we agree and then never change
Soften a bit until we all just get along
But that's disregard
Find another friend and you discard
As you lose the argument in a cable car
Hanging above as the canyon comes between

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She's on your mind

And suddenly I become a part of your past
I'm becoming the part that don't last
I'm losing you and its effortless
Without a sound we lose sight of the ground
In the throw around
Never thought that you wanted to bring it down
I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She's on your mind

~The Frey

Bleed... Whatever Color GMU Is...

I am officially rooting for the underdog (what else is new??) in the Final Four tournament. Go George Mason University!!!

[Yota, this is mostly because of you. Mostly.]

And One More Thing...

Comment: Creepy Dunkin' Donuts man hit on me again today. Apparently he thinks a cute nickname for me is "Smiley". I don't think it's cute. Hopefully my response of, "I will be, once I have my fucking coffee," was appropriately off-putting (but I doubt it). And yes, I know I should not have gone to that particular DD's, but I really needed some damn caffeine, and the next one was way too far away. Casey is now writing a song about me entitled "Queen of the Totally Inappropriate Suitors". FABULOUS. That is all.

Deep Thoughts

Question: Why does my cat like to chew on cacti? (Not just the cute fuzzy ones, but the scary, mean, pointy ones.)

Look Into My Crystal Ball

Prediction: Tomorrow there's a chance I may do something slightly stupid.

Good Night and Good Luck

Americans are too broadly under-informed to digest nuggets
of information that seem to contradict what they know of
the world... Instead, news channels prefer to feed
Americans a constant stream of simplified information,
all of which fits what they already know. That way they
don't have to devote more air time or newsprint space
to explanations or further investigations.
-- Tom Fenton, former CBS News Foreign Correspondent

QAD 3/16/06

You can always hear the people who are willing to sacrifice
somebody else's life. They're plenty loud and they talk all
the time. You can find them in churches and schools and
newspapers and legislatures and congress. That's their
business. They sound wonderful. Death before dishonor.
This ground sanctified by blood. These men who died so
gloriously. They shall not have died in vain. Our noble
dead.
-- Dalton Trumbo, Johnny Got His Gun

A patriot must always be ready to defend his country
against his government.
--Edward Abbey, author

Fascism - A system of government that exercises a
dictatorship of the extreme right, typically through the
merging of state and business leadership, together with
belligerent nationalism.
--The American Heritage Dictionary, 1983

Do something useful today and visit this website: Sign the Petition

Sight Hound

I'm about to go for a run before getting back to my horrible, soul-sucking midterm paper, but I wanted to rave about how wonderful the book I started reading yesterday is. (One might wonder where I found the time to read a book for pure enjoyment's sake, but if you're ever stuck in the car for 6 hours with my family, you'll understand.) I'm totally in love with all things by Pam Houston right now, and her latest novel Sight Hound is fabulous. If you're a person who has every had a pet, lost a pet, been in love, had your heart broken, struggled to find your way...walks on 2 legs or breathes oxygen regularly, you'll be touched by it too.

Sunshine!

Some of my coworkers have really funny walks. Kind of like this.

Image code by MyNiceSpace.com

Cute, huh? I need a life. Has my blog become stupid? You'd tell me, right?

Notes From All Parts of Becky's Brain

I just need to say that, as a woman, seeing men get hit/punched/kicked in the balls is and will always be funny to me. It's mean, it sucks, and I will laugh every time I see it happen on tv or live-action until the day I die.

[Speaking of men who deserve to get cracked in the nuts, it's my ex's birthday today. Who wants to go throw eggs at his car with me as a "Happy 27th!" gift?]

Another random note:
I had a dream last night that involved all of the following characters/places/things:
- Creepy ex-coworker
- Non-creepy ex-coworker
- Cool current coworker
- A herd of pregnant miniature horses
- Monkeys flinging poo (and various other things)
- A townhouse development (where I was frantically searching for #138)
- Dane Cook
- An SUV
- My cowboy boots
- Sno Caps (yes, the things you eat at the movies)

Anyone care to analyze? Yes, they were all in one singular dream, and yes there was a context, believe it or not. Am I crazy?

To Clarify...

For the sake of clarification about yesterday's post... I wasn't being sad or depressed or anything of that sort. It was just one of those AHA! moments, when you zip outside of your head and see yourself clearly from the ouside looking in. Like one of those neat camera effects in The Matrix when the scene pauses mid-martial arts move and the camera pans out and around to show Neo from the bad guy's point of view.

Cliche!

Today after work I went to the supermarket in my work clothes, black peacoat, trendy scarf and leather gloves. I bought 7 SmartOnes frozen dinners, 2 yogurts, and a bag of oranges. As I was rifling through my tasteful purse (that was super-cheap) to pay for my wares, I came to the realization that I have become a walking, breathing stereotype of the quintessential single, slightly pathetic, 20-something female. I could have walked straight off some tired scriptwriter's set directly into my own little masquerade of a life.

Interesting, huh?

9 to 5... or rather, 10:30 to 7ish..

I have discovered bliss. If I could work from home in my pjs and glasses, my cat asleep next to me on the computer in my sunroom every day, I would be the happiest little employee on the planet.

Of course, to do this today I had to call in sick.

Cut me some slack - it's the first day of spring break, there are no students desperately clamoring for my assistance, the office closes early, and no one really cares except me. I have a 15 page midterm paper due next week and absolutely no time to sit down and do some serious research, so I elected to take today and make some progress. The fun thing is, with everything in the world networked and password-ed, I can basically do everything else I'd be doing at work from home as well. I can check the email and the fax machine, my calendar, and even commuicated with my fellow coworkers via Instant Message (except, of course, my boss - the person who tells me what to do. Oh, and the people at work I can't stand, who don't have my Instant Messanger ID). The only thing I'm leaving out here is answering the phones - the one part of my job I loathe with a passion. So really, it's 80% of the work and 0% of the aggrevation.

Maybe Carrie Bradshaw was onto something, tapping away at her keyboard in her trendy little uptown apartment all on her own. I always thought working at home would be lonely and isolated... but I think I may have been mistaken...

Go Ahead and Kick That Puppy!

Quick addendum to my post the other day about Dunkin Donuts guy -

Why does Barry the Bartender* feel inclined to continue calling me? I gave him my number over a year ago in a fit of lonlines and moment of pure weakness. I have only returned one of his calls since December of '04 (because, appropriately enough, he happens to attend my institution a few nights a week and was confused about his bill) and have only picked up when he called once - because I was driving and didn't see the number on the screen. You would think good ol' Barry would have gotten the message by now. The message being, "LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE". I feel bad because he's a nice enough guy, but part of what turns me off so badly is his sheer patheticness. It just goes to show that men really, really want and love to be treated like crap. The meaner you are, the more they adore you.

*his name isn't really Barry, but I feel bad disclosing the poor guy's identity. Wouldn't want you guys to point and laugh the next time you see him or anything.

Peevy!

Pet Peeve: Incorrect (or inappropriate) use of the "reply to all" button.

Land of Losers

Yesterday morning the Dunking Donuts drive-thru guy hit on me. Fabulous. Time to switch my special-morning-treat routine... the coffee at Muddy Cup is better anyway.

I now get to add to my trophy case the title of Queen of the Totally Inappropriate Suitors in addition to my reigning title, Queen of the Nerds (ask my high school friends about that one).

QOTD 2/27/06

Power always thinks it has a great soul and vast views
beyond the comprehension of the weak; and that it is
doing God's service when it is violating all his laws.
--John Adams, 2nd US president


A woman is handicapped by her sex, and handicaps society,
either by slavishly copying the pattern of man's advance
in the professions, or by refusing to compete with man at
all.
--Betty Friedan, Feminist, author

Violent Thoughts

Today I would like to smash my coworkers in the head with a hammer.

Better Than Chocolate

Quite often I believe that the perfect cup of French Vanilla coffee is better than sex (from what I remember). And chocolate. No contest.

Bubble Girl

Here's my little tidbit for the day -

It's been mentioned recently that I have personal space issues. I guess I never realized that I may have a little bit more of an issue with others invading my "bubble" than most of my fellow Americans, but it's been made clear that I do. Let me make my personal space issues clear and irrefutable right here, right now:

[I am pointedly referencing this to the creepy grad students at work who lean over my desk, one or two specific coworkers from the past and present, disgusting drunk men at bars, the creepy ice patrol guy who totally ended my wonderful re-enactment of my childhood ice skating adventures yesterday, and every shmuck who's ever tried to grab my ass/boob/arm/leg while waitressing... to name a few.]

You are not allowed in my bubble without an explicit invitation. That's it. That's the rule, period. There are no exceptions to this rule. You've either been invited in or you haven't. It's like a vampire entering a mortal's house. If it is unclear as to whether or not you've been invited - maybe it's murky, maybe you're reading signals that you don't recognize, whatever - then you have not been invited in. End of story.

I also have the right to rescind said invitation whenever and however I feel like it. I'm sorry if this seems cruel and unusual to you, but it's just the way it is. You'll have to find someone else to grope if you find my rule so grievously offensive.

So there it is. I hope this helps all of you navigate the waters of your relationship with me (whether real or imaginary) with safety and enjoyment.

Top 10 List of Things That Make Me Want To Quit My Job

In no particular order:

1. Don't ask me if I'm the bursar's office. If I were, in my greeting I would say, "this is the bursar's office" not "this is the student solution center".

2. Don't call to argue with me about your late fee and how you 'plan' to pay your bill. Your bill was due 2 months ago - you DESERVE a late fee.

3. Loud coworkers who say stupid, ignorant things on a regular basis.

4. Snotty, bratty 20 year old undergraduates

5. Snotty, bratty 45 year old graduate students

6. Parents who intterupt and ask me if I'm a work-study student while I am patiently explaining to them how federal student aid regulations work.

7. People who ask "how are you" on the phone. They don't REALLY care, and never wait for a response. Don't bother, just ask your damn question so we can end this conversation.

8. Parents/students who calll and give me a first and last name, expecting me to instantaneously remember her/him out of the 3,500 people who attend the college.

9. Anyone who calls and says, "hi, who is this?" That REALLY pisses me off. Who the fuck are YOU, and what do you want? You're calling me, buddy.

10. Self-involved, bloated college professors who expect me to fill out ALL of their paperwork for them because they're too busy to do 'menial' tasks like inputting the correct grades for their students.

Taking Over One Plush Toy At A Time

To steal a phrase from this guy (whom I found hysterical in college, but now that he's sold out totally sucks ass, so don't ask why I just linked him), here's something I was "ruminating" on today...

I get emails from Victoria's Secret on a relatively regular basis. This is because I frequently purchase underwear from them online. If there's one thing that's easy to shop for via the internet, it's panties. Let's face it - the more you have, the less frequent your trips to the washing machine become. They're a pretty universal garment... I mean, a large is a large is a large. And you always need more. I'm not really worried about how they're going to look ON - if the rhinestone phrase "Rockstar" looks cute in the picture, it'll probably look about the same plastered across my ass. And (usually) I'm wearing pants anyway.

[Full disclosure: I do not own ANY garment with the word "Rockstar" emblazoned across it - rhinestone or otherwise].

Anyway, Victoria's Secret likes to send me email fliers about their latest promotions. This week's promotion states, "Free PINK mini dog with any PINK purchase." And it shows a picture of the 'mini dog'. The 'mini dog' is a pink and white polka-dot stuffed dog... wearing a t-shirt. It's not even soft and fuzzy - it's made out of some burlap-like material. So, basically, what they're telling me is that if I buy a $35 bra, I get a stuffed dog that's about the size of a nerf football, for free. That's great. It's fan-fucking-tastic. What the fuck am I going to do with a stuffed dog? For real. What part of my life is this useless piece of crap going to enhance, and how does this particular promotion inspire me to part with my hard-earned money? I'm buying your stupid underwear anyway. You know what would be a better promotion? I buy the bra, you DON'T send me the dog, and instead donate the $1 it cost to produce the damn thing to a battered women's shelter. I know this is America - land of the free, home of the telemarketer (wait, I'm sorry - we outsourced them all and fired the Americans) - but don't we have ENOUGH USELESS CRAP? Does the marketing company for Victoria's Secret really think that this is the way to increase sales?

[Full disclosure #2: I actually was given a stuffed dog with purchase once before. I gave it to my cat as a chew toy.]

Post-Stealing Again

I'm not going to argue with this.

Adding To The List

You know what I hate? West Virginia.

Death Becomes Her

I'm watching Skating with Celebrities. Somebody kill me.

Stacked

Scrolling through Stacked this morning, I found this post. I love this guy, and I love the fact that he intelligently goes from football to nuclear politics, to salsa recipes to relationships. As loathe as I may be to admit it, Pat is probably right on this one...

Cyberspace

One thing I've learned during my relatively short time as a blogger [an unread blogger, which on occaision, I'm rather happy about]...

There are an awful lot of angry, illiterate creeps out there in cyberspace! They get really good at lurking in random comments screens, posting poorly-composed obscenities and unillicited opinions on blogs from everywhere. It's fascinating to me that everyone has an opinion about everything. It's even more fascinating that the random blog commentators are so convinced that they are right. A third notable factor is that the nastiest ones (and most grammatically incorrect) are usually American.

This revelation brings to mind a song lyric, and I will now take a moment to quote the legendary Salt N' Peppa...

"Opinions are like assholes and everybody's got one."

Mile 1

When I was in grade school, twice a year it was understood that the Gods of Gym required us to Run The Mile. I hated The Mile. Everyone I knew hated The Mile. [Remember, Becky=Nerd. Nerd=Nerdy Friends. The rule here is that nerds suck at sports.] The only people who didn't were the guys and girls on the track/x-country teams, who would show off by crossing the finish line in 6 and a half minutes, then ask if they could run it again. I hated them, too. To me, it seemed like the longest distance in the world. Throughout my adolescence, I rode horses, swam competitively, and took dance classes. None of these athletic endeavors required running, and I found The Mile not only painful, but horrifically embarassing as well. I don't believe I ever finished in anything less than 13 minutes in the 6 or so years I was forced to run it. The end of the run would find me with my head between my legs, ears hurting, lungs hurting, with a stitch in my side that made me want to cry. I didn't WANT to be the last person without a thyroid problem across the finish, it just happened that way.

There was one strange interaction, however, quickly forgotten at the time, that has somehow stayed with me ever since. My memory is a little fuzzy as to whether this happened in middle school or high school, or even what point in the torture it occurred, but I remember the conversation as clear as day. One of the gym coaches - the cross-country coach - approached me and asked me if I'd ever considered being on the team. She told me I had great form for a runner, and that I should really consider it. Knowing full well the extent of my land-speed record (and assuming that she didn't), I tried not to laugh and told her I'd think about it, shook my head, and jogged (I use the term loosely) away. Afterward, I told my other 13-minute friends the story, we had a good laugh, and life went on.

Cut to 10 (or maybe more) years later. I think about this conversation every single time I run through my neighborhood, pounding the pavement and huffing away for a half mile, one, two, and sometimes three. I think about it every time I start to get tired during my run, and every time I feel a surge of energy to go a few more steps. I think about it when my knee starts to cramp, when I know I'll be home icing my injury for the next week. I remember it every time I start to plan for the 9-mile Boilermaker in July.

I don't think I ever had another conversation with that particular gym coach. She didn't know me, I didn't know her, and we were destined to remain strangers. Yet she saw something in me that it took me over 10 years to figure out about myself. It's poignant to think that there are complete strangers out there who can see things about you that you never even knew existed. That sometimes the mirror we hold up to ourselves is so very cloudy in comparison to the window we keep clean for others.

My miles aren't a whole lot faster than they were back then, but I run every single step of every one. I don't get stiches in my side, and that first mile always goes too fast. I love it even when it hurts, and I feel nothing but pride in something that once caused me only shame. I'll never be a true athlete, but that stranger turned out to be completely right; I have the form for running.

Have Another

Felicity gets drunk and rambles on Ben's voicemail about how she doesn't "need" him. Great moment. Too bad she's full of shit...

Just Shoot the Damn Thing

So far, everything about turning 25 has completely and utterly sucked. Except the food. The food's been okay.

Caseyism

"Handing out fliers is tangible. It's like saying, 'here, you throw this out'."

~My Best Friend

Blognote

This Guy rocks. Not only did his post make me laugh when I wanted to cry yesterday, but he then came on over and checked out my blog. Which, in the world of Blog, is really nice. [Plus, he has one of those cute little cyberpets. I have pet fish stories as well, btw.] Thanks dude!

The Captain and Religion

Can I just say that there is nothing I'd rather do when buzzed on Captain & ginger after a crappy week than debate the merits of religion in a bar full of people I went to high school with, whose names I can't remember? One of my old friends was home from San Francisco for the holidays, and we went out last night for a few hours with her brother. Her brother has just ended an on again/off again relationship with a girl who is extremely religious. Usually a pretty quiet guy, but wow, did I get him going. It was great. And why, I wonder, are people who would never have spoken to me 10 years ago suddenly so freaking happy to see me? You'd think they'd won the fucking lottery or something. I can't even remember half their names, but they all remember mine, apparently. Not bad for the girl who was labeled "The Really Nice Nerdy Girl" by the cool kids in high school. My boobs must have been looking fabulous last night.

[Note to you 17-year-olds: Be nice to the nerdy kids. Not only will they grow up to be filthy rich, they will also have become so insecure that they will end up growing proportionately more attractive as the hot ones become less so. Whether this is because they become more socially adept or just have enough money for cosmetic surgery is irrelevant. Also, they tend to hold grudges against those who stuffed them in lockers or spread rumors about their gym clothes. That kind of shit stays with you, man.]

Ha

I'm having a horrid little wonder of a 3-day week at work, but this made me laugh out loud today. And after that awful 400lb freshman boy tried to eat me earlier, it's taking quite a lot to make me laugh...

Quote Stealer

I stole this one from The Waiter today:

“With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion.” – Steven Weinberg

I'm Jack Handley

Deep thought for the day:

Is there a difference between "The Meaning of Life" and "The Meaning of My Life"? And is the answer always 42?

Bring Yourself Back

I am drinking quite possibly the best cup of Dunkin Donuts french vanilla coffee I have ever had right now. Mmmmmmm. AND I hit every light on Washington Avenue Extention at green this morning. For many of you that will mean nothing, but for you Albanites - you're impressed, right? Don't lie. You know you are.

Break Stuff

Note to self:

Next time I get broken up with out of the blue, I need to trash the fucker's apartment the way Kelly Clarkson does in the video for Since U Been Gone. It looks like fun and therapy all rolled into one...



[Yeah, after Ghostbusters I watched Dodgeball, but that's over so I've moved on the VH1. There's really, really, really nothing on tv today.]

Non-Holiday

I'm blogging on Christmas Day. I may be the only person blogging on Christmas Day (though I doubt it). That's the thing about growing up the lone Jewish kid on the block... Christmas Day becomes the big, boring, nothing holiday. It's a non-holiday. For you gentiles (I feel that if someone else is allowed to refer to me as a "heathen", I'm allowed to refer to all of you goyim as gentiles) it's all hyped about church and presents and dinner and family. For us Jews, it's enforced imprisonment. Due to the sheer absence of things to do and places to go, we are driven to spend the day doing absolutely nothing with each other. Your holiday effectively becomes my day of torture. You may be enduring family-hell as well, but at least your hell is encased by an allegedly joyful, spiritual and religious event (although it's to be noted that the commercialization of Christmas is so extreme that the meaning may have been lost long ago). There is food and candlelight and sparkly trees and wrapping paper. I've got Ghostbusters and a box of Kung Pow Chicken. And my mother, who will not go away, crabby because she ate too much at the holiday party last night and now feels that she's obese. Because there's no other distraction, I get to hear about it. All day.

Hopefully this puts things in perspective for all of you having doubts and frustrations this holiday season. If my gut-wrenching boredom and misery has made at least one person feel better about his/her life (whether "heathen" or "gentile"), my day will have not been an entire waste of oxygen. So Happy Holidays to all. May your feast, whether Kung-Pow or Rack of Lamb be warm and filling.


[It should be noted that when I refer to myself as a Jew, these days I consider it more of a cultural self-identification than a religious one. I am not a religious person. If you want to get technical, I'm probably more Agnostic than anything else. I've found, however, (as most people do) that it is very hard to separate one's self entirely from her childhood environment and family ties.Besides... I'm partial to lighting lots of candles.]

RIP Ipod (you piece of overpriced shit)

I just got back from the gym. My Ipod has died! I don't know what I'm going to do! And good grief, could it have happened at a worse time? Like the Apple store won't be a complete and utter zoo in the next two days when I try to get there and have their sad little IT guys poke and prod at it, only to confirm that, 'yep, it sure is dead, miss'. Because I know that's what is going to happen. Oh, the AGONY!!!!

Tis The Season

I love my job.

Really - I do. Or rather, I love where my job is headed. It's hard to truly "love" being at the bottom of the food chain, but knowing you're probably on the right track is a pretty good feeling. A relatively new feeling for me, in fact.

But there are days - days like today - that make me feel like I'm living in Office Space and want nothing more than to gut a fish on my desk while playing Atari and stealing all of the holiday food from the back room, followed by a good solid pen-in-the-eye. Maybe throw a stapler or two. As I've mentioned before, I work at a private 4-year college, and all of the students are officially on break between semesters. Yet the staff and administration (not faculty, it should be noted) are here on campus... with nothing to do. The pointlessness of my meaningless existence becomes glaringly obvious on days like today. I feel like a typewriter. Typewriters are completely and utterly obsolete, yet they're still sitting around there somewhere. Doing nothing.

I also spend the majority of my time at work answering phones. Students ask a lot of questions. Parents ask even more. We all know that all people seem to come down with a case of the crazies (and crankies) around the holidays, which seems to make them significantly less pleasant to speak with than your average unpleasant phone-encounter. [Especially considering the fact that we're politely reminding them about their 13k tuition payments that will be due immediately after the New Year.] Another interesting phenomena I've noticed is that, when faced with the prospect of a weekend, vacation or holiday, the phone rings exponentially more immediately preceeding said time off. The mere concept that we will be unreachable for the better part of the next 48 (or, god forbid, 96) hours instill fear and loathing in the hearts of anxious college students and their parents, which leads to pure panic. As a result, the day before my paltry 2 days of vacation is never pleasant.

Scratch that. I have zero intention or desire to gut a fish on my desk. I don't gut things. It's not in my nature. I'm much more of a "cut the line and hope the hook works itself free" kind of girl.

Happy Is A Yuppy Word

Right now I am completely obsessed with my new Switchfoot album, Nothing Is Sound.

For Casey

We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow some-
times in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We
grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm,
childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle
and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We
are made up of layers, cells, constellations.
--Anaia Ninn

But Honey, It's Cold Outside

Just for the record, I am 100% on board with Opinionista's sentiment today about the NYC Transit Strike. I was once a miserable, rat-caged Manhattanite, and I am in total agreement.

Triple X

Why does everyone with a profile on MySpace think s/he is a porn star? Come on now, give me a break. You live in Albany. Working at DeCarlo's (one of maybe 3 strip clubs in the area) does not qualify you as the next Jenna Jameson (or Ron Jeremy).

For example, "Dreamy" who is 26, from Albany. Her posted picture is of her skinny, coked-out butt sticking out of a pink miniskirt (no underwear) with a white bra. Oh, and knee socks - to make her look wholesome. Her interests include (in this order): her son, music, dancing, tattoos, sex, parties, friends, drinking, Yankees & Giants, reading & traveling (I'd be curious as to what she reads - I'm doubting it's Vonnegut or Nietzsche), Vermont, poker, the beach and the city.

Or take "P", 25, from Schenectady. He is flexing with his shirt off (alternating between the stylish bowtie and no-bowtie) in every picture he's posted. There are 6. Who takes 6 pictures of himself shirtless? Accordingly, every one of his "friends" seem to have much in common with "Dreamy". He has no male friends. He also, apparently, has no interests. "P" is single and, shockingly, Catholic.

During my relatively short time on MySpace in support of Casey, I have seen more unfortunate nakedness than I care to relive. I guess this just goes to reaffirm that the Internet is one weird, wild, strange cyberplace...

Back In Rare Form

Why, hello there. My, how I've missed you, my anonymous blog-friends.

Ahh, the holidays. 'Tis the season for temper tantrums, screaming babies, crazy drivers, holiday cards, fat-laden food, heartburn, blackout punch, Christmas tree fires, sappy tv, and my favorite: New Year's Eve dress shopping... remind me again why people love it so much? No, I'm serious. Help me out here. Last year was so bad that I literally have The Holiday Season of 2004 blocked out in my memory, like it was some kind of awful traumatic event. Someone please give me one (or more) good reason why I should deck the halls and be cheerful?

And if one more person wishes me a Merry Christmas, I may punch him or her in the face.

MIA

Sorry guys, I've been way too busy doing homework and trying to survive my first semester of grad school to to post. Give me a few days, I'll be back. Amuse yourselves until then.

A Little Quote Action

The only index by which to judge a government or a way of
life is by the quality of the people it acts upon. No matter
how noble the objectives of a government, if it blurs
decency and kindness, cheapens human life, and breeds ill
will and suspicion - it is an evil government.
-Eric Hoffer

Eliminate physical clutter. More importantly, eliminate
spiritual clutter.
--D.H. Mondfleur

Vocabulary enables us to interpret and to express. If you
have a limited vocabulary, you will also have a limited
vision and a limited future.
-Jim Rohn

In Case You're Ready to Go...

How to Leave the Planet

1. Phone NASA. Their phone number is (713) 483-3111. Explain that it's very important that you get away as soon as possible.
2. If they do not cooperate, phone any friend you may have in the White House - (202) 456-1414 - to have a word on your behalf with the guy at NASA.
3. If you don't have any friends in the White House, phone the Kremlin (ask the oversease operator for 0107-095-295-9051). They don't have any friends there either (at least none to speak of), but they do seem to have a little influence, so you may as well try.
4. If that also fails, phone the Pope for guidance. His telephone number is 011-39-6-6982, and I gather his switchboard is infallible.
5. If all these attempts fail, flag down a passing flying saucer and explain that it's vitally important you get away before your phone bill arrives.

~Douglas Adams, Intro to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Of A Revolution

..and I said 'Johnny whatcha doing tonight?'
he looked at me with a face full of fright
and I said 'how about a revolution?'
and he said 'right'...

Don't mind me, I went to an OAR show last night. Definitely felt old - don't these college kids today know that OAR is my generation, not theirs? Casey and I agreed that OAR beats Phish and Trey Anastasio, hands down, any day. I'll take 17 year olds acting stupid over cokeheads asking to borrow my car keys to bump lines any day of the week...

A Healthy Dose of Feminism

If you have knowledge, let others light their candles in it.
--Margaret Fuller, Feminist and poet

Cautious, careful people always casting about to preserve
their reputation or social standards never can bring about
reform. Those who are really in earnest are willing to be
anything or nothing in the world's estimation, and publicly
and privately, in season and out, avow their sympathies
with despised ideas and their advocates, and bear the
consequences.
--Susan B. Anthony, Abolitionist, Suffragist

Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations.
I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their
beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.
--Louisa May Alcott, Author of "Little Women"

Pre-Coffee Musings

1 - Why is there so much more traffifc on Thursday mornings than the rest of the week?

2 - Why is Matthew McConaughey the sexiest man alive? I'm sorry, but I do not agree. I can pick 5 right of the top of my head that beat him out, hands down. 5 non-Texan, non-Republican sexier men...

Link Myself

Is it obnoxious to link to my own posts? Because there's this one and this one that I just found today while reading (yes, I am so bored that I'm reading my own blog) that are really kind of funny...

Sidebar: Could it please stop raining for 10 minutes so that I can get to my car without getting DRENCHED?

Milestones...

Today is my 1-year anniversary of freedom. Singlehood. Dumped-ness. Whatever you want to call it. The point is, a year ago today was the day I thought my life is over. [Drama queen, I know.] I don't really feel like re-living the humiliation while providing a play-by-play (and considering my penchant for self-flaggelation, I'm going to take this as a positive improvement over my previous state) but suffice it to say that it was bad. The good news is, it's finally starting to feel like that night was a really bad dream... one of those dreams that just takes a while to shake off. In my case, it apparently took the better part of a year... but hey, who's counting?

We'll All Float On...

For the record, I know I haven't been doing much actual writing lately... it's been a lot of quotes and whatnot. Rest assured that my brain hasn't shut off - I've still got lots and lots of ideas swimming around in my head (especially right now, fresh from an almost-3-mile run) that I'd like to talk about, I'm just having trouble capturing and tacking them down on paper when I actually have the time to do so.

I will stop a moment and say this (but bear with me, because I don't know if I'll articulate it in a way that makes much sense): Lately I've been feeling... alive again. In the last few months, the parts of me that felt alternately crushed, sad, dead, and numb seem to have come back with that feeling of pins and needles, like when your foot falls asleep and then wakes back up. I feel like this huge weight that I've been lugging around that I didn't know how to get rid of seems to have evaporated, and I'm feeling much lighter. The only phrase that comes to mind when I try to describe what I've been experiencing is the name of a book by Milan Kundera - The Unbearable Lightness of Being...

Another Song to Live By

Maybe I've been the problem,
maybe I'm the one to blame
But even when I turn it off and play myself,
the outcome feels the same
I've been thinkin maybe I've been partly cloudy,
maybe I'm the chance of rain
Maybe I'm overcast,
and maybe all my luck's washed down the drain

I've been thinking 'bout everyone,
everyone you look so lonely

But when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars I see someone else

When I look at the stars,
the stars, I feel like myself

Stars lookin' at our planet watching entropy and pain
And maybe start to wonder
how the chaos in our lives could pass as sane
I've been thinking bout the meaning of resistance,
of a hope beyond my own
And suddenly the infinite and penitent
begin to look like home.

I've been thinking bout everyone,
everyone you look so empty

But when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars I see someone else

When I look at the stars,
the stars, I feel like myself

everyone, everyone you feel so lonely
everyone, yeah everyone you feel so empty

When I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars,
when I look at the stars I feel like myself

When I look at the stars, the stars
I see someone...

~ Switchfoot, Stars

What Is It Good For?

Of all the enemies to public liberty war is, perhaps, the
most to be dreaded because it comprises and develops the
germ of every other. War is the parent of armies; from these
proceed debts and taxes...known instruments for bringing
the many under the domination of the few. . . No nation
could preserve its freedom in the midst of continual
warfare.
--James Madison, Political Observations, 1795

It's Quote Time!

One needs something to believe in, something for which one
can have whole-hearted enthusiasm. One needs to feel that
one's life has meaning, that one is needed in this world.
--Hannah Senesh


If you were all alone in the universe with no one to talk
to, no one with which to share the beauty of the stars, to
laugh with, to touch, what would be your purpose in life?
It is other life, it is love, which gives your life meaning.
This is harmony. We must discover the joy of each other,
the joy of challenge, the joy of growth.
--Mitsugi Saotome

Hampster Wheel

I have a serious gym-related pet peeve.

If you are going to be on a machine at the gym, shut your fucking cell phone off. I'm serious. There may be nothing more annoying on the PLANET than a gym cell-phone talker. I'm on a treadmill running my ass off. My feet hurt, my legs hurt, my chest is burning and I'm hauling my ass, sweating like a pig and breathing like I'm... well, running my ass off. Sometimes I'm concerned that I'm even personally irritating others around me by BREATHING TOO LOUD. There are 20 other equally miserable - and equally SILENT - people surrounding me. None of us want to hear the tall, pretty, skinny blonde with her little beer gut strolling on the elliptical machine in her Tiffany jewelry not even breaking a sweat chit-chat with her BFF about their bar-hopping plans for the evening, and how Orlando Bloom is "oh my God, SOOO cute" and her vintage blazer is "oh my God, SOOO last spring". The endorphins and adrenaline coursing through my veins could, in fact, potentially cause me to think that strangling her with my own bare hands and drowning her in a pool of sweat might actually be fun. Never mind that I'm doing all of this running and am completely unsuccessful in getting away from the source of my agitation. This only manages to ADD to my annoyance.

So just shut it the hell off for your 20 minute "workout", okay? Thanks.

Silence

"A lot of things happen when you shut up."

~Mike Bologna

QOTD 10/21/05

If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child
may have peace.
--Thomas Paine

Pounding the Pavement

I decided yesterday that I wish there were a direct line from my brain to my blog while running. There's just so much... stuff... that goes on in there while I'm pounding through my neighborhood with Audioslave pulsing through my headphones. I go everywhere in my head while I'm out running, but when I come home to trap it all down into solid word form, it seems to disappear. Running has become such a catharsis... so much so that I wish that I could save just a little bit of what I get out of me. It would make for some good blogging, I think.



Time hasn't stopped for any troubles, heartaches, or any
other malfunctions of this world, so please don't tell me
it will stop for you.
--C.S. Lewis

A Modern Fairy Tale

Once Upon A Time...

In a land far away,
a beautiful, independent,
self-assured princess happened upon a frog as she sat,
contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond
in a verdant meadow near her castle.
The frog hopped into the princess' lap and said: Elegant Lady,
I was once a handsome prince,
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.
One kiss from you, however,
and I will turn back into the dapper, young prince that I am and then, my sweet,
we can marry and set up housekeeping in your castle with my mother,
where you can prepare my meals,
clean my clothes, bear my children,
and forever feel grateful and happy doing so.
That night,
as the princess dined sumptuously on lightly sautéed frog legs
seasoned in a white wine
and onion cream sauce,
she chuckled and thought to herself:
I don't frick'n think so.

Discover...Nitrous Oxide

I have decided that there must be something in the water that Discover Card feeds its employees. Every single person I've ever spoken to that was affiliated with Discover has been frighteningly perky and chipper. Either they drug the crap out of the peons, or it's just a really really REALLY great place to work!

I'm putting money on the drugs.

In Honor of Yom Kippur

Power always thinks it has a great soul and vast views
beyond the comprehension of the weak; and that it is doing
God's service when it is violating all his laws.
--John Adams

Just One More Mile...

What's the difference between running and running away?

Late Shift Blues

I work the 'late shift' on Wednesdays. This means that I come in at 9:30 instead of 8 and stay until 6 instead of 4:30. I don't mind the late shift. In fact, I kind of like it. Traffic isn't as bad (both ways), the morning goes by fast, and usually it gets very quiet after 4, which means I can be productive. The problem with the late shift is parking. As in, there never is any (especially when the weather sucks). Students and faculty snap up every available inch of space by 8:15. The lots are full, the streets are full, even the handicapped spots are full... today I spent 25 minutes driving around in circles to find a spot, each circle bringing me a block further from where I need to be.

When we were together, The Ex moved into a 1-bedroom apartment 3 blocks away from the office I work in now. Correction: I moved Ex into that apartment. This morning, I found myself on that street, in the rain, in front of that building, desperately hoping for a parking spot. What I saw instead was that the porch was empty of sports equipment, trash bags, lawn chairs, and there was a giant American flag fluttering from the front window. Ex clearly doesn't live there anymore.

This didn't make me sad or make me cry... but it did give me a very weird feeling. One day he's just no longer there. He no longer lives in an apartment that holds memories of us... in fact, he probably now lives with his new girlfriend [whom I fondly refer to as The Bride of Frankenstein] somewhere else. A year ago, I thought it would be me he'd move in with after the apartment on Ridgefield. It's like he's started a brand new life and been wiped off my radar... but I know he's still floating around the area. Who knows how long he's been gone from that place. Now, strangers live in an apartment that was practically my second home.

The way people's lives and paths cross and continue forward is so interesting... and in some ways, sad. It's been almost a year, and I think I can say that I know I'm going to be alright. I can't remember the last time I cried myself to sleep over him, or over a song that reminded me of him. I still get sad and miss the relationship, but I'm okay with it being over. I just wish sometimes that there could be a way to avoid amputating people from your life so unceremoniously. Or if so, they could be amputated from your heart as easily. Sitting in my car, in front of a stranger's apartment was a warped reminder of how nice it would be if things were that easy.

Life... Or Something Like It

It's a dreary Monday morning - dark and gray. What's worse is that it's Columbus Day, and everyone in the world is sleeping in... except me. Granted, I don't really want to celebrate the takeover and eventual exploitation of an entire race of people, skewed by American history to appear noble instead of barbaric ... but it's still depressing to be one of the few at work. I even got a spot in the "good" parking lot this morning.

Wow, is this what my life has become? Ecstasy over a new work computer and switching desks, angling for a spot in the "good" parking lot, looking for conveniently sized photos of my loved ones to stare at while I get verbally abused for my $10 an hour every day? Making sure I have "sensible" shoes and my shirts are "work appropriate"? Looking forward to Friday Jean Day? It's like Office Space, only more pathetic.

Then again... was my life any more meaningful before? Getting drunk and having empty interaction with other college students, searching for the latest trend and hottest shoes, seeing amazing women create endless drama with boys who never really cared about them, watching The Bachelor every week? Practicing quadratic equations that I would never again use after the open-notebook open-textbook exam? Pretending to read deep and meaningful literature, fibbing my way out of late grades on assignments?

It's funny... my generation complains about feeling stifled when thrown into the workplace to work the 9-5 grind, as if our worths have been compromised and our intellects marginalized. As if that hadn't happened ALREADY... we blame"growing up" as the cause. I wonder, however, if the growing up is instead the force that peels the veil of self-illusion back, forcing us to come to the realization of our own lack of meaning.

Maybe I'll just go for a run.

Pee Party

Why do female college students feel compelled to pee on every seat in every bathroom in the building I work in? Don't they know they're GIRLS??? Who DOES that?

The Quote Nerd

More than one good quote today:

The dissenter is every human being at those moments of his
life when he resigns momentarily from the herd and thinks
for himself.
--Archibald Macleish


There are men - now in power in this country - who do not
respect dissent, who cannot cope with turmoil, and who be-
lieve that the people of America are ready to support
repression as long as it is done with a quiet voice and a
business suit.
--John Lindsay, former Mayor of New York City



The difference between what we do and what we are
capable of doing would suffice to solve most of the
world's problems.
-- Mahatma Gandhi

Revelations

It hit me like a sack of bricks tonight -- the reason I adore Aiden on Sex and the City? He's an emotionally available copy of my ex-boyfriend.

Somebody kill me.

Casey's Letter to the Nut People

Hi, I recently purchased your "Fancy Pistachios" and found some bug larvae inside of them and almost threw up. That's absolutely disgusting and unacceptable to have bugs inside of your nuts and I have never come across bugs in any other nuts I have eaten. I will happily send you the container plus the bug larvae I saved, in its shell, but I want my money back.

~CD

11/15/05

I've been really, really bad about running lately. That is to say, I haven't been running at all. Finally fed up with myself today, I got my butt back outside and went for a run on this beautiful fall day. (Okay, mostly walk, but after 2 months of zero exercise, what do you expect?). Anyway, I "ran" today, and I felt great afterwards, despite my fat lard status. I set myself a goal: I want to back in shape - in fact in even better shape - and able to run 3 miles by November. November 15th, 2005 is going to be the day I can run at least 3 miles without it being a stretch.

November 15th. That's the day I need something really good to happen.

Let's Play Chicken!

New thing I learned today:

Apparently, you do not have to be a certified (or licensed, or whatever it is they do) traffic guard to stand in an intersection during rush hour and direct traffic. You just have to have the colossal balls of steel to stand there, wave your arms around, and - surprise, surprise - the people in the cars will obey. Even when there's no apparent REASON for you to be doing so.

Hmm. I think this is something that warrants further study. I may need a volunteer to play in traffic for me while I... observe...

More Than Occaisionally

Someday I hope the day will come

When I won't think of you

Before my coffee's done...

~Long Story Short

(check them out on MySpace)

"Growing Up" Sucks

You know what stunk? Graduation.

Syracuse class of 2003 - I miss you guys. A lot.



[stupid back-to-back episodes of Felicity]

Silver Bells...

It's 8:05am and there's showtunes coming out of one of the offices behind me. It just flashed me back to the winter of 2003, when I was working at Lifetime TV. There was this woman in the cubicle next to mine who turned on her Christmas music station the day after Thanksgiving and played it every day until December 25th. By the end of the month, I was ready to stick my head in an oven.

Just a reminder of how much I'm NOT looking forward to the holidays...

Who Am I? (you get 3 guesses)

The less justified a man is in claiming excellence for his
own self, the more ready he is to claim all excellence for
his nation, his religion, his race or his holy cause. A man
is likely to mind his own business when it is worth minding.
When it is not, he takes his mind off his own meaningless
affairs by minding other people's business.
--Eric Hoffer, philosopher and author (1902-1983)

Test of the Emergency Broadcast System

While Bush is doing his Address to the Nation, I think I'll write my Address to W.

Hey, Mr. "President" guy - could you do me a favor? If you're going to continue killing everyone, fucking up the world, the environment, the nation, the economy, the lives of my friends and my own life, could you do me a favor? Could you NOT fuck up my tv-watching schedule? Just go back to doing what you do best (otherwise known as 'vacationing') and please get your illiterate face off of my television screen. You're interrupting my regularly-scheduled programming, and I was really looking forward to tonight's episode of Reunion.

It's a relief that the man isn't articulate or intelligent enough to speak on live television for more than a half hour. Karl Rove's butt probably gets tired with the dummy on his lap and his hand up its ass for over 25 minutes. Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll catch something worth watching at 9:30.

Cosmetic Surgery

Daze End got a facelift today!


I've been trying to change the 'comment' link to say something amusing, but I'm giving up. Who am I kidding? I don't know shit about html coding. I give up!

PS - check out the links - I may have added some new ones.

So Much To Do...

Some of my coworkers make me want to stick a pen in my eye. Or theirs. Or make me wish I were deaf as a doornail. And blind.

I have 5 chapters to read for my class tomorrow night. Guess how many chapters are in the book? 7. Guess how many chapters I've already read? Getting back into this school thing is harder than I thought it would be.

THIS is where I'll be tonight... instead of reading my 5 chapters. Sometimes, you just have to weigh your priorities.

To All The Wanderers

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what
makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what
the world needs is people who have come alive.
--Harold Whitman

Notes

I'm pretty sure THIS is the guy we elected president...

Ladies, Ladies, Ladies...

I am continually astounded by my fellow women... and men.

[This isn't going where you think it is - I'm taking a break from my political ranting.]

The number of interesting, brilliant, talent women who get hung up on men who are total wastes of oxygen is simply DUMBFOUNDING to me. It's horrifying - what cool women allow men to say and do to them under the heading of 'being in love'. Absolutely repulsive. Granted, I am no exception to this rule; you're reading the blog of a girl whose boyfriend cheated on her, then proceeded to tell her he wasn't in love with her, yet she continued to stay with him for another 6 months.

What we let them get away with - and what they think is acceptable behavior - is absolutely amazing. I was channel hopping last night... and I happened upon a really, really stupid reality show with C-list celebrities. It was this show on VH-1 called 'My Fair Brady', following around Christopher Knight from the Brady Bunch(who is so C-list I had to look his name up, and was surprised he's still alive) and Adrienne, "America's Next Top Model" in relationship-land. She's like, 22, and he's like, 47. He was the biggest gigantic asshole to her, and she just followed him around. The man doesn't seem to have all that much going for him - aside from being rich. Average looking, not particularly smart, acts like a 15-year old. He talked to her like she was a child - which, at 22 to his 47, she IS - and basically just continued to treat her like she was worthless. And she was just like, "but I love you so much, wah wah wah." UNBELIEVABLE. And that girl is kind of a tough chick.

While celebrities don't always 'count', I've seen the same thing over and over. I saw it with my college roommates, I've seen it happen to my best friends, I've listened to the way my male friends treat THIER girlfriends, and I've been guilty of it myself. What is it about our society that has conditioned women to let men treat us this way, and why is it socially acceptable for them to do so? Are we so desperate to be loved, or to believe that we're loved, that we are okay with continually abasing and degrading ourselves? Are women that paralyzed with fear over being alone that being in a crappy relationship that is better than being single?

This is my message: Ladies, knock it off. Stop being stupid. You're WOMEN, for God's sake! Studies show we're smarter, stronger, and tougher than them. We live longer, we go through childbirth. We multi-task better, we're better commuicators, we know how to dress ourselves, and we're more compassionate human beings. We are now the majority on most college campuses in the United States. New research shows that our brains are more densly packed with neurons. We need to stop letting these useless men treat us like crap. Maybe if we strengthen our backbones, men will learn that their abasement of women is NOT acceptable.

Until that happens... find a hobby. Men are fun, but having one doesn't necessarily fix your problems. Trust me on that one. You're much better off taking a painting class.

Calling A Spade A Spade

The day after the Presidential election last year, The Ex called me from work. I was crying and inconsolable after he informed me that Kerry had conceeded and that W. had, at least by actual votes this second time (rigged voting booths in Ohio notwithstanding) won the race. In my head, I wasn't surprised, but in my heart I'd kept hope alive that if we tried hard enough, we could beat the Republican Machine. Anyway, Ex called, and I was a mess. Just the idea of the disasters that would befall us in the next 4 years was horrific. This administration had already run us into the ground in the last 4 years - what was to happen next? I distinctly remember his response. He kept saying, "Look, Beck, it'll be okay. Everything is going to be okay." I got really angry at this - the entire reason for my distress was that it WASN'T going to be okay, and I told him exactly that. Naturally, he poo-poohed me off as an over-emotional, irrational female.

This weekend - and after the passing of Chief Justice Rhenquist Saturday, leaving yet another Supreme Court seat for W. to fill with his incompetent cronies - I've had an almost irrepresible urge to send him an email saying simply, "I told you so".

Clarification

Let me rephrase.

Hurricane Katrina was NOT W.'s fault. A natural disaster is no one's fault... unless, of course, you consider the fact that global warming is NOT a load of crap; it's a scientific reality and is in fact a direct result of the poor environmentalism us humans have shown throughout our existence - politics notwithstanding. [If you 'don't believe in' the greenhouse effect, then you're also probably one of my favorite people who doesn't 'believe in' the science of evolution and is in support of teaching creationism. You also probably drive an SUV or Hummer that gets 9 miles to the gallon and burps toxic waste into the air.] The state government of Louisiana (and Mississippi) AS WELL AS the Federal Government have all completely failed the hurricane victims. W. himself just happens to be spectacularly ineffective at making any sort of effective decision to galvanize the rescue mission. Of course, maybe if he'd bothered to cut his vacation short BEFORE the hurricane hit instead of 3 days afterward, there would have been more for him to do...

Bullshit

Sidebar -

As I was republishing my post, I heard the non-descript sound of the tv chattering away from the other room, and then I heard a very clear and distinct "Bullshit. Bullshit! Bull SHIT!" in my mother's voice. From this, I can decisively conclude that she's watching the news, and that W. is (once again) attempting and failing at effectively using the English language in front of a microphone to spin our latest catastrophe into something that isn't his fault.

Spitting Venom

It's so nice to know that the spam world has been reduced to posting advertisements in the comments section of blog sites. At least here, I have the small satisfaction of knowing that only about 10 people even bother reading my blog, and of the 10 of you, hopefully only about 2 or 3 are bored or gullible enough to bother clicking through to the website.

If you haven't read Maureen Dowd's syndicated column today, copy and paste this link and get to it.

http://www.timesunion.com/AspStories/story.asp?storyID=395115&category=OPINION&newsdate=9/3/2005

Kill Your TV

I've been attached to the news since I got home tonight. Here are a few places I've been to tonight that you should consider it your responsibility to visit as well.

www.cnn.com

www.redcross.org

www.newsweek.com

http://www.livejournal.com/users/interdictor/
(this is a live blog being posted from the heart of New Orleans)

www.workingforchange.com

and one more slightly-unrelated by also useful link...

http://www.venganza.org/

Left My Heart at the Big Easy...

Early September is one of my favorite times of year in upstate NY. The weather is calm; warm, but not too warm... everything is green... the sun still lingers until 7pm, the sunsets are full of color. It's beautiful.

Today I came home from work and walked out to the mailbox as the sun began to drop behind the top of the hill. The birds continued their mellow chirping, and I could hear the sound of a sprinkler from the neighbor's yard. There was a little bit of a breeze, and the smell of someone's backyard grill floated along on it. I looked around at my gentle, serene neighborhood, my home for over 20 years. Then I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it under 15 feet of water, the roofs of our homes caved in, bodies floating down the street, people looting and dying of hunger at every turn. Then I came inside and cried for the poor, poor people suffering in New Orleans. What could that possibly be like?

To see a city of such heritage and history - a blindingly proud city despite its rather ignoble reputation - brought to its knees so thoroughly and humiliatingly is painful to watch. My heart bleeds as I watch the people of Louisiana tear each other apart in a desperate attempt to survive. Just as painful to watch is the overwhelming homogeneity of the people who are suffering. Americans have become accostomed to pretending that racism 'no longer exists' in America, that we're 'above' all of that... but take a look at CNN. The people who did not make it out of Katrina's path were the poor and the infirmed - they HAD no way out. Almost every single hurricane 'refugee' you see on the news today is black. What does that say about America? New Orleans is the 9th poorest city in our country, and 2/3 of its population is African American. Are we really doing anything more than preaching equality in this country, while at the same time funneling our 'undesireables' somewhere we consider to be out of sight and out of mind?

And please do NOT get me started on the appaling way that the residents of the city have reacted to this tragedy. When the World Trade Centers were demolished, not one New Yorker looted. Not one New Yorker attacked or killed another in an attempt to get to safety or shelter. They helped each other, died to SAVE each other. As the cameras roll, people being housed in the Superdome are raping and murdering each other over blankets. I watch the news and I feel like I'm watching a scene from the movie version of Lord of the Flies (a book that made me throw up, incidentally).

This awful tragedy and the nation's reprehensible reaction to it refreshes and strengthens my fear of the future. I really wonder sometimes if the apocolypse isn't pending... if it's already arrived and is just taking it's time finishing what's been started.