are you for or against comic sans?
okay. i don't understand this or this. i had no idea there were pro & anti comic sans societies out there. who are these people? and why are fonts that important to them? what is the meaning of this? is it a joke? someone please enlighten me!
terça-feira, julho 29, 2003
no good deed goes unpunished
a week and a half ago i saved a great pyrenees from execution at the town lake animal shelter. okay, i'm probably being dramatic because the great pyrenees rescue woman was going to take her in even though she already has 5 huge dogs at home (and hadn't put her fence up yet, so they were all kept inside!) so really i was helping her out more than saving another dog. but this is a good thing, right? i should get some positive karma points for it.
well, that's assuming that i'm in the positive or just breaking even with the karma and apparently i'm still working off some negative. last thursday i went on a camping trip for work, assisting another program. i was all primed to spend approximately 24 hours with a dozen pre-teen girls who probably didn't have much camping experience. for the record, the camping was great & the girls were terrific. they got along wonderfully & weren't squeamish or whiney (well, not too whiney - it was really hot so they handled it well considering). but my day started out with a developing allergy sinus headache & my prescription allergy meds (zyrtec rocks!) were at home. since i live near the state park, my coworker offered to swing by my place along the way so i wouldn't be miserable the whole time.
as we pulled up, i expected to see a big white dog hanging out in the front yard. as i rushed inside to grab my medicine, i called & whistled, but she didn't come running. deep down i knew she got out, but i allowed myself to entertain the possibility that maybe she was just out back, asleep under the trees & i didn't see her. what was i going to do? i couldn't look for her at that time. i couldn't abandon the trip. and she had tags. i decided to just go on & let andrew deal with it when he got home from work.
several hours later i got a call from the woman that hooked me up with the dog in the first place. she had her. apparently ms. escape artist #2 (katy is still #1) jumped our fence and decided to wander down the median of the highway, where she was discovered by some farmers & taken to a vet. the vet ran her microchip & got in touch with the great pyrenees rescue folks. and that's how she ended up back in austin.
friday after the camping trip was over, i went to pick her up. my coworker was concerned that her internal spay stitches might have come out when she jumped the fence. she also had a nasty cut on her foot & d suspected that she was still wormy. so i agreed to take her to see the vet. however, my vet office didn't open for walk-ins until 2:30pm. it was barely 1pm.
i decide to kill time at my brother & sister's house, check email, watch the toob, whatever. however, i didn’t take into account my brother’s psycho cat.
my brother’s cat, abnormal (aka nermal or big nerm perm or big perm or permal – even though his hair isn’t curly) is about 18-20 pounds of cat. he’s got a small head & skinny tail, but an enormous body. he’s surprising spry & a very loving cat, especially when he wants the food bowl filled (which is all the time). but you don’t mess around with big perm. he’s got extra toes on his front paws that function almost like opposable thumbs and he knows how to use those extra claws to his full advantage. and he seeks his full advantage when dealing with dogs.
when a new dog comes into the house, perm goes on the offensive. he attacks. and when the dog yelps and runs away in fear, he keeps at them. he stands up on his hind legs and puts his full weight behind his punches as he batters his victim with both paws, waiting for an opportunity to sink his teeth in.
someone who isn’t karmically challenged might know not to get in between big perm and his next victim. that someone isn’t me.
i arrived at the sibs’ house & the cat was safely outside, so i took lollie (that’s what we’re calling the pyr for now) into J’s room so i could use the computer. the other dogs were freaked out by the huge beast occupying their space, but they were starting to get used to her, once they realized that she’s basically a big puss. my back was to the door as i sat at the computer, but i heard the clu-clump, ka-thunk of an overweight cat galloping down the hall. i turned and on instinct, i jumped in front of the dog just as nerm crossed the threshold and leaped up, claws and teeth bared. my right arm took the brunt of the attack before i managed to force him out of the room & shut the door. after a minute or two of looking at my bloody arm, i quickly opened the door, grabbed him & threw him out into the front yard. but my forearm was throbbing where his tooth was buried in my flesh and i could see little bits of fatty tissue popping out. the pain was pretty intense, too – much more than on the scratches.
i treated the wound and took the dog to the vet, where is spent 2 hours and $40 just to hear that the spay scar was fine and she didn’t have worms. the whole time my arm was oozing blood.
saturday it stopped oozing blood & starting oozing pus. really nasty pus. the circumference of the bite was also red and swollen. by midday i had a huge red lump with a pus-filled middle growing on my arm, about 2 inches in diameter. everyone kept telling me to go & have it looked at, but i didn’t want to spend saturday – amanda & chris’s last saturday in austin – at the emergency room.
after a dip in barton springs, shannon & i went to chipotle for some tacos. i was inspecting my festering wound & i asked shannon if she really thought it deserved a trip to the emergency room or should i wait until monday when i could see my regular doctor. “i don’t know,” she replied, “ask them.” i turned around to see a couple of EMT’s at the soda fountain.
“excuse me, but would you go to the emergency room for this, or can it wait?”
their looks said it all as they cringed in disgust. “um, how much more infected do you want it to get?”
so, saturday night at st. david’s emergency room. i reluctantly drove myself there, armed with stuff to read & work on for what i figured was the long night of waiting ahead. i soon found that this was completely unnecessary.
i’m addicted to the show ER. and i can’t get enough of the re-runs, especially the george clooney days (yum!) but the show & my past experiences at ER’s has given me a bad view of how things run there. all i have to say is thank goddess i have decent health insurance & didn’t have to go to the public hospital.
county general should take a lesson from st. david’s. i walked in and was immediately taken back to have my vitals checked & put in a curtained-off exam room. unlike county general’s 4 or 5 exam rooms, st. david’s had about 40. they seemed to be pretty busy, but there was no one in the waiting area. in fact, there really wasn’t much of a waiting area! within 5 minutes i was seen by a doctor. i didn’t have to fill out paperwork because they came by with a computer on a cart, asked me questions and that was it. i was only there for about an hour or so, and most of that was spent waiting to make sure i didn’t have a negative reaction to the tetanus shot they gave me.
while i was happy to get done so fast & get back to the party, i was a little let-down by the comparison to the tv show. there really wasn’t much excitement there. i saw one guy with blood running down his shirt, obviously drunk, but that was about it. maybe it was still too early for all the action. it reminded me of my experience in high school as an ambulance ride-along.
my senior year, a friend of mine was in this club where they’d meet to talk about becoming an EMT and then spend nights hanging out at the fire/ambulance station, waiting for a call so they could ride along with the EMT’s and see what they did. he made it sound really exciting, telling me about all the drama, blood & gore he’d gotten to see. i went to a meeting & the EMT leading it made it sound even more intriguing. i had visions of rushing into the ambulance, speeding down the highway with the sirens blaring, performing cpr and other medical procedures on someone who’s about to die.
finally my night to do the ride-along came. my friend dropped me off & then headed to another station across town to do his ride-along. the guys at the station were nice. we sat around, ate a little, watched some tv, shot the shit. but no calls. after about 5 hours, we finally decided to hit the hay. we’d just gotten to sleep when a call came in. FINALLY some action!
i jumped up, ready to go, but the other guys dragged themselves out of bed and slowly lumbered toward the vehicle. i got in the back, ready to speed off, but we pulled out at a normal speed. i don’t even think they put on the lights or the siren. i guess the dispatcher must have relayed that it wasn’t a horrible dire emergency because they didn’t seem very phased. we arrived at our destination to find a woman in her home, obviously upset but otherwise seemed fine. she was slightly hyperventilating and complaining of chest pains. upon questioning her, we learned that her partner had recently left her and apparently she was kinda freaking out about that. it was obvious that her problem wasn’t really physical, but she insisted on her ride to the ER anyway, so we loaded her in & drove her at the same normal, non-emergency pace to the hospital of her choice.
the whole experience was a let-down. though my friend at the other station got to go to a major accident & had all kinds of excitement. so maybe it was just my luck – not that i was wishing harm on anyone just to amuse myself. and who knows, i might have been traumatized by some gruesome ordeal. now i can’t stand the sound of an ambulance siren because it reminds me that someone is hurt or dying. i don’t like to think about that.
but back to my weekend. i was given the tetanus shot and a prescription for antibiotics. i hate taking antibiotics, but this seemed like a time to take them, especially since i knew i was going to schlitterbahn the next day and would spend hours exposing the wound to water used by thousands of people. however, i now have some physical unpleasantries to contend with – i’m a little too yeasty and a little too runny, if ya know what i mean. not fun. and my arm still hurts.
and my best friends left for california yesterday evening & i miss them already. i wish i was going. i’m sick of this town & my long-ass drive to & from work everyday and not having enough money and not knowing what i really want to do with my life. i feel like i’ve lost some joy and i’m becoming jaded and tired.
and on that depressing note, i end this blog entry.
a week and a half ago i saved a great pyrenees from execution at the town lake animal shelter. okay, i'm probably being dramatic because the great pyrenees rescue woman was going to take her in even though she already has 5 huge dogs at home (and hadn't put her fence up yet, so they were all kept inside!) so really i was helping her out more than saving another dog. but this is a good thing, right? i should get some positive karma points for it.
well, that's assuming that i'm in the positive or just breaking even with the karma and apparently i'm still working off some negative. last thursday i went on a camping trip for work, assisting another program. i was all primed to spend approximately 24 hours with a dozen pre-teen girls who probably didn't have much camping experience. for the record, the camping was great & the girls were terrific. they got along wonderfully & weren't squeamish or whiney (well, not too whiney - it was really hot so they handled it well considering). but my day started out with a developing allergy sinus headache & my prescription allergy meds (zyrtec rocks!) were at home. since i live near the state park, my coworker offered to swing by my place along the way so i wouldn't be miserable the whole time.
as we pulled up, i expected to see a big white dog hanging out in the front yard. as i rushed inside to grab my medicine, i called & whistled, but she didn't come running. deep down i knew she got out, but i allowed myself to entertain the possibility that maybe she was just out back, asleep under the trees & i didn't see her. what was i going to do? i couldn't look for her at that time. i couldn't abandon the trip. and she had tags. i decided to just go on & let andrew deal with it when he got home from work.
several hours later i got a call from the woman that hooked me up with the dog in the first place. she had her. apparently ms. escape artist #2 (katy is still #1) jumped our fence and decided to wander down the median of the highway, where she was discovered by some farmers & taken to a vet. the vet ran her microchip & got in touch with the great pyrenees rescue folks. and that's how she ended up back in austin.
friday after the camping trip was over, i went to pick her up. my coworker was concerned that her internal spay stitches might have come out when she jumped the fence. she also had a nasty cut on her foot & d suspected that she was still wormy. so i agreed to take her to see the vet. however, my vet office didn't open for walk-ins until 2:30pm. it was barely 1pm.
i decide to kill time at my brother & sister's house, check email, watch the toob, whatever. however, i didn’t take into account my brother’s psycho cat.
my brother’s cat, abnormal (aka nermal or big nerm perm or big perm or permal – even though his hair isn’t curly) is about 18-20 pounds of cat. he’s got a small head & skinny tail, but an enormous body. he’s surprising spry & a very loving cat, especially when he wants the food bowl filled (which is all the time). but you don’t mess around with big perm. he’s got extra toes on his front paws that function almost like opposable thumbs and he knows how to use those extra claws to his full advantage. and he seeks his full advantage when dealing with dogs.
when a new dog comes into the house, perm goes on the offensive. he attacks. and when the dog yelps and runs away in fear, he keeps at them. he stands up on his hind legs and puts his full weight behind his punches as he batters his victim with both paws, waiting for an opportunity to sink his teeth in.
someone who isn’t karmically challenged might know not to get in between big perm and his next victim. that someone isn’t me.
i arrived at the sibs’ house & the cat was safely outside, so i took lollie (that’s what we’re calling the pyr for now) into J’s room so i could use the computer. the other dogs were freaked out by the huge beast occupying their space, but they were starting to get used to her, once they realized that she’s basically a big puss. my back was to the door as i sat at the computer, but i heard the clu-clump, ka-thunk of an overweight cat galloping down the hall. i turned and on instinct, i jumped in front of the dog just as nerm crossed the threshold and leaped up, claws and teeth bared. my right arm took the brunt of the attack before i managed to force him out of the room & shut the door. after a minute or two of looking at my bloody arm, i quickly opened the door, grabbed him & threw him out into the front yard. but my forearm was throbbing where his tooth was buried in my flesh and i could see little bits of fatty tissue popping out. the pain was pretty intense, too – much more than on the scratches.
i treated the wound and took the dog to the vet, where is spent 2 hours and $40 just to hear that the spay scar was fine and she didn’t have worms. the whole time my arm was oozing blood.
saturday it stopped oozing blood & starting oozing pus. really nasty pus. the circumference of the bite was also red and swollen. by midday i had a huge red lump with a pus-filled middle growing on my arm, about 2 inches in diameter. everyone kept telling me to go & have it looked at, but i didn’t want to spend saturday – amanda & chris’s last saturday in austin – at the emergency room.
after a dip in barton springs, shannon & i went to chipotle for some tacos. i was inspecting my festering wound & i asked shannon if she really thought it deserved a trip to the emergency room or should i wait until monday when i could see my regular doctor. “i don’t know,” she replied, “ask them.” i turned around to see a couple of EMT’s at the soda fountain.
“excuse me, but would you go to the emergency room for this, or can it wait?”
their looks said it all as they cringed in disgust. “um, how much more infected do you want it to get?”
so, saturday night at st. david’s emergency room. i reluctantly drove myself there, armed with stuff to read & work on for what i figured was the long night of waiting ahead. i soon found that this was completely unnecessary.
i’m addicted to the show ER. and i can’t get enough of the re-runs, especially the george clooney days (yum!) but the show & my past experiences at ER’s has given me a bad view of how things run there. all i have to say is thank goddess i have decent health insurance & didn’t have to go to the public hospital.
county general should take a lesson from st. david’s. i walked in and was immediately taken back to have my vitals checked & put in a curtained-off exam room. unlike county general’s 4 or 5 exam rooms, st. david’s had about 40. they seemed to be pretty busy, but there was no one in the waiting area. in fact, there really wasn’t much of a waiting area! within 5 minutes i was seen by a doctor. i didn’t have to fill out paperwork because they came by with a computer on a cart, asked me questions and that was it. i was only there for about an hour or so, and most of that was spent waiting to make sure i didn’t have a negative reaction to the tetanus shot they gave me.
while i was happy to get done so fast & get back to the party, i was a little let-down by the comparison to the tv show. there really wasn’t much excitement there. i saw one guy with blood running down his shirt, obviously drunk, but that was about it. maybe it was still too early for all the action. it reminded me of my experience in high school as an ambulance ride-along.
my senior year, a friend of mine was in this club where they’d meet to talk about becoming an EMT and then spend nights hanging out at the fire/ambulance station, waiting for a call so they could ride along with the EMT’s and see what they did. he made it sound really exciting, telling me about all the drama, blood & gore he’d gotten to see. i went to a meeting & the EMT leading it made it sound even more intriguing. i had visions of rushing into the ambulance, speeding down the highway with the sirens blaring, performing cpr and other medical procedures on someone who’s about to die.
finally my night to do the ride-along came. my friend dropped me off & then headed to another station across town to do his ride-along. the guys at the station were nice. we sat around, ate a little, watched some tv, shot the shit. but no calls. after about 5 hours, we finally decided to hit the hay. we’d just gotten to sleep when a call came in. FINALLY some action!
i jumped up, ready to go, but the other guys dragged themselves out of bed and slowly lumbered toward the vehicle. i got in the back, ready to speed off, but we pulled out at a normal speed. i don’t even think they put on the lights or the siren. i guess the dispatcher must have relayed that it wasn’t a horrible dire emergency because they didn’t seem very phased. we arrived at our destination to find a woman in her home, obviously upset but otherwise seemed fine. she was slightly hyperventilating and complaining of chest pains. upon questioning her, we learned that her partner had recently left her and apparently she was kinda freaking out about that. it was obvious that her problem wasn’t really physical, but she insisted on her ride to the ER anyway, so we loaded her in & drove her at the same normal, non-emergency pace to the hospital of her choice.
the whole experience was a let-down. though my friend at the other station got to go to a major accident & had all kinds of excitement. so maybe it was just my luck – not that i was wishing harm on anyone just to amuse myself. and who knows, i might have been traumatized by some gruesome ordeal. now i can’t stand the sound of an ambulance siren because it reminds me that someone is hurt or dying. i don’t like to think about that.
but back to my weekend. i was given the tetanus shot and a prescription for antibiotics. i hate taking antibiotics, but this seemed like a time to take them, especially since i knew i was going to schlitterbahn the next day and would spend hours exposing the wound to water used by thousands of people. however, i now have some physical unpleasantries to contend with – i’m a little too yeasty and a little too runny, if ya know what i mean. not fun. and my arm still hurts.
and my best friends left for california yesterday evening & i miss them already. i wish i was going. i’m sick of this town & my long-ass drive to & from work everyday and not having enough money and not knowing what i really want to do with my life. i feel like i’ve lost some joy and i’m becoming jaded and tired.
and on that depressing note, i end this blog entry.
terça-feira, julho 22, 2003
Get a Life
my passion for online journal entries is quickly waning. i think my repeated posts about dogs has forced a harsh reality to come to light - i have no life. and that depresses me. i have nothing cool or exciting to write about. i work. i run errands. i do lilith stuff. i come home to let the dogs out.
okay, let's get this over with. the new dog. she's wonderful. she's a leggy, adorable, sweet, eager-to-please majestic white beauty. when she runs it's like watching a horse gallop through a field, long white tailing flowing behind her. her walk is slow and graceful. she's huge, yet meek. her intelligent eyes communicate the wisdom of "why hurry? savor it." yet she's also gangly and goofy and gets really excited when i come home & jumps up on me, trying to give me a big hug around my neck. when she decides to lie down, she does it with a sudden "kerplunk!" no easing down or spinning around a few times first. when it's time to go down, she just does it.
we haven't named her. that would signify attachment...or that we haven't found the right name. we're not very good foster parents because evidently we're in love with her & giving this dog up will be the hardest thing i can imagine right now. someone i know PLEASE adopt this dog so i can still have her in my life! i can't keep her. we'd have to get rid of one of our other dogs & i can't bear to do that either. but four dogs is too many - especially when one of those dogs is going to weigh upwards of 100 pounds, comes up to my waist standing on all 4's, and is at least as tall as i am (5'9") when up on her hind legs.
okay, this signifies the end of the dog-related entry. geez, i really need to get a life!
today is my baby sister's birthday! she's 25 today. happy hatch day, shanny ree! oh fuck. my baby sister is 25. that means that...i'm...almost...30...
i'm sick of living in the middle of nowhere. i don't know anyone that lives anywhere close to me. i hate it that i can't just ride my bike to visit a friend. i miss living in hyde park. i miss walking to shipe park or fresh plus or the pronto mart or quack's. i miss having my siblings & my good friends close by. no one calls me when there's something cool going on at the last minute because i'm so far away. i don't see anyone anymore. i really need to get a life.
i told andrew that i was depressed & needed to get a life. but i think it's more than just needing to hang out with my friends more. i feel like i need even more of a change. some new hobby or interest. i need to get involved in something, preferably something social & active, that will cause me to expand my horizons just a little bit. like rollerderby. i want to be on one of those teams. i want to have the clever name & wear the cute little outfit & look cool & sexy & all that. but then again, i don't know if i'd fit in with the roller derby crowd. i'm not really good at that trendy, cool stuff. i'm more at home with the misfits. and whatever cute little outfit i'd get would probably just ride up my butt the whole time. and my back fat would show through the shirt. and my love handles & belly would roll over the top of the cute little shorts. and i'd look out of place. no, not rollerderby.
should i go back to pottery? sure, i liked it. my pottery sucks, but it was fun. though it was also expensive to pay for the classes & the tools & all the clay. and it's not like i really hung out with anyone from pottery class or anything.
another writing class? nah.
so where does that leave me? i don't know. all i know is that i really need to get a life.
my passion for online journal entries is quickly waning. i think my repeated posts about dogs has forced a harsh reality to come to light - i have no life. and that depresses me. i have nothing cool or exciting to write about. i work. i run errands. i do lilith stuff. i come home to let the dogs out.
okay, let's get this over with. the new dog. she's wonderful. she's a leggy, adorable, sweet, eager-to-please majestic white beauty. when she runs it's like watching a horse gallop through a field, long white tailing flowing behind her. her walk is slow and graceful. she's huge, yet meek. her intelligent eyes communicate the wisdom of "why hurry? savor it." yet she's also gangly and goofy and gets really excited when i come home & jumps up on me, trying to give me a big hug around my neck. when she decides to lie down, she does it with a sudden "kerplunk!" no easing down or spinning around a few times first. when it's time to go down, she just does it.
we haven't named her. that would signify attachment...or that we haven't found the right name. we're not very good foster parents because evidently we're in love with her & giving this dog up will be the hardest thing i can imagine right now. someone i know PLEASE adopt this dog so i can still have her in my life! i can't keep her. we'd have to get rid of one of our other dogs & i can't bear to do that either. but four dogs is too many - especially when one of those dogs is going to weigh upwards of 100 pounds, comes up to my waist standing on all 4's, and is at least as tall as i am (5'9") when up on her hind legs.
okay, this signifies the end of the dog-related entry. geez, i really need to get a life!
today is my baby sister's birthday! she's 25 today. happy hatch day, shanny ree! oh fuck. my baby sister is 25. that means that...i'm...almost...30...
i'm sick of living in the middle of nowhere. i don't know anyone that lives anywhere close to me. i hate it that i can't just ride my bike to visit a friend. i miss living in hyde park. i miss walking to shipe park or fresh plus or the pronto mart or quack's. i miss having my siblings & my good friends close by. no one calls me when there's something cool going on at the last minute because i'm so far away. i don't see anyone anymore. i really need to get a life.
i told andrew that i was depressed & needed to get a life. but i think it's more than just needing to hang out with my friends more. i feel like i need even more of a change. some new hobby or interest. i need to get involved in something, preferably something social & active, that will cause me to expand my horizons just a little bit. like rollerderby. i want to be on one of those teams. i want to have the clever name & wear the cute little outfit & look cool & sexy & all that. but then again, i don't know if i'd fit in with the roller derby crowd. i'm not really good at that trendy, cool stuff. i'm more at home with the misfits. and whatever cute little outfit i'd get would probably just ride up my butt the whole time. and my back fat would show through the shirt. and my love handles & belly would roll over the top of the cute little shorts. and i'd look out of place. no, not rollerderby.
should i go back to pottery? sure, i liked it. my pottery sucks, but it was fun. though it was also expensive to pay for the classes & the tools & all the clay. and it's not like i really hung out with anyone from pottery class or anything.
another writing class? nah.
so where does that leave me? i don't know. all i know is that i really need to get a life.
sexta-feira, julho 18, 2003
Just Call Me a Sucker
(or yet another post about dogs)
have you ever seen a great pyrenees? they're those huge white dogs with all the hair and the sweet, gentle, relaxed personalities. i've always been entralled with them when i've seen them at the park and they never seem to mind little kids pulling on their hair or annoying pomeranians yapping at them. they have this calm, zen-like quality. they also remind me of that big white dog that the kid on the neverending story rode on. you know, the flying dog. i always thought that dog was so cool. that kid could never have saved the world from "the nothing" if it wasn't for the flying dog!
well, last week i overheard one of the case managers at the supportive housing office talking about how she does great pyrenees rescue. i almost asked what was involved in fostering a pyr, but stopped myself. after all, we already have 3 dogs & as you know from previous posts, they've been giving me some hell lately, particularly the dog we got from catahoula rescue (do they have a rescue organization for every breed? i've never heard of pomeranian rescue...though who wouldn't want a pom!)
but today she sent out an email asking for help in fostering a great pyr that was going to be put to death this weekend. once again, i couldn't let another dog go to the gas chamber (it's a good thing town lake animal shelter doesn't call me right before they euthanize every dog). i picked up the phone & called her. i got the details & called andrew.
okay, in the back of my mind i'm thinking. another dog? no way. we can't do this. we can barely feed the dogs we've got. we've got this fence problem - or more accurately a katy escapes the fence problem. what if the dog chews? what if the other dogs don't get along with her? what if she takes great pyrenee-sized shits in the living room? andrew was going to be my out. andrew was going to say no.
i really wanted andrew to say yes. it's only temporary until someone can adopt her. yep, that's what i keep telling myself, knowing that it might be longer than a few weeks & might lead to one great pyr after another.
i didn't even have to state my case. i said "foster" and "great pyrenees" and andrew said, "hell yes! let's do it! i love those dogs! i used to have a great pyrenees mix..." are you sure? i ask. another dog. "yes! do it!" i almost wanted to cry. i was so glad he was excited.
so, yep, they're coming out to check out our house tomorrow & if all goes well, we'll have dog #4.
what am i doing??
(or yet another post about dogs)
have you ever seen a great pyrenees? they're those huge white dogs with all the hair and the sweet, gentle, relaxed personalities. i've always been entralled with them when i've seen them at the park and they never seem to mind little kids pulling on their hair or annoying pomeranians yapping at them. they have this calm, zen-like quality. they also remind me of that big white dog that the kid on the neverending story rode on. you know, the flying dog. i always thought that dog was so cool. that kid could never have saved the world from "the nothing" if it wasn't for the flying dog!
well, last week i overheard one of the case managers at the supportive housing office talking about how she does great pyrenees rescue. i almost asked what was involved in fostering a pyr, but stopped myself. after all, we already have 3 dogs & as you know from previous posts, they've been giving me some hell lately, particularly the dog we got from catahoula rescue (do they have a rescue organization for every breed? i've never heard of pomeranian rescue...though who wouldn't want a pom!)
but today she sent out an email asking for help in fostering a great pyr that was going to be put to death this weekend. once again, i couldn't let another dog go to the gas chamber (it's a good thing town lake animal shelter doesn't call me right before they euthanize every dog). i picked up the phone & called her. i got the details & called andrew.
okay, in the back of my mind i'm thinking. another dog? no way. we can't do this. we can barely feed the dogs we've got. we've got this fence problem - or more accurately a katy escapes the fence problem. what if the dog chews? what if the other dogs don't get along with her? what if she takes great pyrenee-sized shits in the living room? andrew was going to be my out. andrew was going to say no.
i really wanted andrew to say yes. it's only temporary until someone can adopt her. yep, that's what i keep telling myself, knowing that it might be longer than a few weeks & might lead to one great pyr after another.
i didn't even have to state my case. i said "foster" and "great pyrenees" and andrew said, "hell yes! let's do it! i love those dogs! i used to have a great pyrenees mix..." are you sure? i ask. another dog. "yes! do it!" i almost wanted to cry. i was so glad he was excited.
so, yep, they're coming out to check out our house tomorrow & if all goes well, we'll have dog #4.
what am i doing??
quinta-feira, julho 17, 2003
wow. it's thursday. i'm totally out of it, having spent the last 2 days at home, suffering from what i'm going to call "explosive liquid booty." you get the picture.
all i have to say is that daytime tv is the worst. i was actually reduced to watching several episodes of vh1's "driven." i saw how the olsen twins are "driven" (i was surprised to find out how fucking wealthy those once freaky-looking/now kinda cute girls are - their own production company, clothing line...who knew?) but as if watching the olsen twins driven wasn't bad enough, i also saw the lisa marie presley episode AND the beyonce knowles "driven." oh. dear. god. it was almost enough to drive me back to watching soaps. almost.
in between naps, toilet visits & bad tv, managed to be productive enough to get some laundry done. i also made a trip out to the home depot yesterday & then to the grocery store. i don't know why i tried to do that - other than i felt a little better & needed to escape the futon - because i ended up wandering around both stores, unsure of what i was there to buy. i finally spent around $80 on some plants, random groceries and the take-out chinese i decided to order when i realized that i wasn't cognizant enough to either select food for preparation or to cook it. i hate it when that happens. i should NEVER go shopping without a strict list. it's always a financial disaster!
also among the tv watching, i caught bravo's new show: queer eye for the straight guy. i wasn't impressed. i really expected more - at least that the queer guys would be funny. i'll give it another shot though. and kudos to bravo for finally breaking the reality tv dating stereotype - straight, buff, bland, dumb white guy and straight, busty, manipulative, dumb white girl - with this show.
now i'm back at work and just really not into it. i feel like i need another 20 hours of sleep, but i don't know if that's just because i've become used to lying down all day or if i'm really still zonked of energy. maybe my body is just rebelling against my obligations & the busy lifestyle that i try to lead. maybe my body is trying to tell me that i should quit filling the hours with one appointment after another & face whatever it is i'm trying to run away from.
or maybe i really just need to go crawl back in bed!
all i have to say is that daytime tv is the worst. i was actually reduced to watching several episodes of vh1's "driven." i saw how the olsen twins are "driven" (i was surprised to find out how fucking wealthy those once freaky-looking/now kinda cute girls are - their own production company, clothing line...who knew?) but as if watching the olsen twins driven wasn't bad enough, i also saw the lisa marie presley episode AND the beyonce knowles "driven." oh. dear. god. it was almost enough to drive me back to watching soaps. almost.
in between naps, toilet visits & bad tv, managed to be productive enough to get some laundry done. i also made a trip out to the home depot yesterday & then to the grocery store. i don't know why i tried to do that - other than i felt a little better & needed to escape the futon - because i ended up wandering around both stores, unsure of what i was there to buy. i finally spent around $80 on some plants, random groceries and the take-out chinese i decided to order when i realized that i wasn't cognizant enough to either select food for preparation or to cook it. i hate it when that happens. i should NEVER go shopping without a strict list. it's always a financial disaster!
also among the tv watching, i caught bravo's new show: queer eye for the straight guy. i wasn't impressed. i really expected more - at least that the queer guys would be funny. i'll give it another shot though. and kudos to bravo for finally breaking the reality tv dating stereotype - straight, buff, bland, dumb white guy and straight, busty, manipulative, dumb white girl - with this show.
now i'm back at work and just really not into it. i feel like i need another 20 hours of sleep, but i don't know if that's just because i've become used to lying down all day or if i'm really still zonked of energy. maybe my body is just rebelling against my obligations & the busy lifestyle that i try to lead. maybe my body is trying to tell me that i should quit filling the hours with one appointment after another & face whatever it is i'm trying to run away from.
or maybe i really just need to go crawl back in bed!
quinta-feira, julho 10, 2003
i am totally miserable. i'm also under the impression that the dog andrew & i adopted several months ago, katy, is out to make me the most miserable human on the planet (yes, this will be another post involving dog stories. sorry!)
i've written before about the dogs escaping. i won't bore you with it again now. but it's all katy. she's the digger & the instigator. we can leave the gate wide open & the other 2 dogs won't run away. but, she comes out & it's all, "pssst, hey guys! let's make a break for it & go party in the woods! c'mon! their backs are turned." and thus she corrupts my sweeties.
this past saturday was one of those times. it happened twice. for the record, ceci the pomeranian did not run away, even though she was also outside. she only runs away when i'm chasing her in order to really drive me mad. during their little adventure, i guess katy must have found some poison ivy and said, "look, yu-tang! poison ivy! that makes heather totally miserable. let's roll around in it!!" i know katy was the one that gave it to me because i have it on the front of my neck, which was where her head fit when i bent down to give her a hug after their return.
so, i'm suffering. right now the PI is at the point where it not only itches constantly, but it's also weeping and tender. my neck is red & swollen with a nasty, crusty yellowish orange scabby mess. when i put ointments on the PI, it stings. it's painful when i move my head & the skin on my neck moves with it. i can't sleep well because i wake up constantly either from overwhelming itch or pain from scratching the tender mess in my sleep.
but katy has done more than give me poison ivy this week. oh, sure, that's more than enough. but, i'm willing to overlook this & think that maybe it wasn't intentional. she is a dog, after all. a very needy, jealous, slightly psychotic dog.
each day i've returned home to find another mess from katy. tuesday the living room looked like a fluffy white cloud. why? well, because she decided to completely shred a pillow. i can just visualize her going psycho on the pillow, ripping the fabric with her teeth, striking it with her claws, shaking her head from side to side, spewing pillow innards everywhere. thank goddess it wasn't one of the feather pillows!
yesterday i walked in to see shredded shards of the sheet we were using to cover the futon (because it's too much damn work to take off the real cover & wash it. have you ever tried putting one of those things back on? it sucks!) personally, i didn't care too much for the sheet, but andrew was quite upset. apparently it was some kind of ancient japanese fabric used for something or other and then sewn together to make a big sheet.
okay, so you're probably wondering why i can get mad at the dog for ripping stuff up when i leave her cooped up in the house for up to 12 hours at a stretch. that's cruel, right? i deserve the destruction (and the ivy). but, you forget that she's a digger. if i left her to freely go in & out the dog door all day, i'd come home to flattened dog on the highway.
but the electric fence will go up this weekend. not that i really have much time to install a goddamn electric fence, but i'm getting the message. i have to do it (anyone want to help?) and today i woke up at 6:30am, took the dogs for a walk and then went to the store to buy the largest bones i could find (they were called mammoth bones). i also secured all pillows & blankets & put chairs on the futon so she wouldn't get any brilliant ideas about jumping up there & ripping that to shreds (insert visual of grey & black dog with scary glowing orange eyes digging into the blue-and-white striped futon, knashing at the fabric with her shiny white teeth.)
dear god! not only do i not have a life, but i'm resorting to even more posts about the dogs. when did this happen? when did i become such a loser? or was i always a loser??
i need an activity. something social. yoga is fine for exercise & inner peace, but you don't really socialize much in yoga class. and what else do i do? work. go over to my siblings' house a couple times a week & watch their gigantic tv while they're not home. hide out in my muddy little house with andrew. and walk the dogs. oh no. not only am i itching, but now i'm depressed. i am a loser!
i've written before about the dogs escaping. i won't bore you with it again now. but it's all katy. she's the digger & the instigator. we can leave the gate wide open & the other 2 dogs won't run away. but, she comes out & it's all, "pssst, hey guys! let's make a break for it & go party in the woods! c'mon! their backs are turned." and thus she corrupts my sweeties.
this past saturday was one of those times. it happened twice. for the record, ceci the pomeranian did not run away, even though she was also outside. she only runs away when i'm chasing her in order to really drive me mad. during their little adventure, i guess katy must have found some poison ivy and said, "look, yu-tang! poison ivy! that makes heather totally miserable. let's roll around in it!!" i know katy was the one that gave it to me because i have it on the front of my neck, which was where her head fit when i bent down to give her a hug after their return.
so, i'm suffering. right now the PI is at the point where it not only itches constantly, but it's also weeping and tender. my neck is red & swollen with a nasty, crusty yellowish orange scabby mess. when i put ointments on the PI, it stings. it's painful when i move my head & the skin on my neck moves with it. i can't sleep well because i wake up constantly either from overwhelming itch or pain from scratching the tender mess in my sleep.
but katy has done more than give me poison ivy this week. oh, sure, that's more than enough. but, i'm willing to overlook this & think that maybe it wasn't intentional. she is a dog, after all. a very needy, jealous, slightly psychotic dog.
each day i've returned home to find another mess from katy. tuesday the living room looked like a fluffy white cloud. why? well, because she decided to completely shred a pillow. i can just visualize her going psycho on the pillow, ripping the fabric with her teeth, striking it with her claws, shaking her head from side to side, spewing pillow innards everywhere. thank goddess it wasn't one of the feather pillows!
yesterday i walked in to see shredded shards of the sheet we were using to cover the futon (because it's too much damn work to take off the real cover & wash it. have you ever tried putting one of those things back on? it sucks!) personally, i didn't care too much for the sheet, but andrew was quite upset. apparently it was some kind of ancient japanese fabric used for something or other and then sewn together to make a big sheet.
okay, so you're probably wondering why i can get mad at the dog for ripping stuff up when i leave her cooped up in the house for up to 12 hours at a stretch. that's cruel, right? i deserve the destruction (and the ivy). but, you forget that she's a digger. if i left her to freely go in & out the dog door all day, i'd come home to flattened dog on the highway.
but the electric fence will go up this weekend. not that i really have much time to install a goddamn electric fence, but i'm getting the message. i have to do it (anyone want to help?) and today i woke up at 6:30am, took the dogs for a walk and then went to the store to buy the largest bones i could find (they were called mammoth bones). i also secured all pillows & blankets & put chairs on the futon so she wouldn't get any brilliant ideas about jumping up there & ripping that to shreds (insert visual of grey & black dog with scary glowing orange eyes digging into the blue-and-white striped futon, knashing at the fabric with her shiny white teeth.)
dear god! not only do i not have a life, but i'm resorting to even more posts about the dogs. when did this happen? when did i become such a loser? or was i always a loser??
i need an activity. something social. yoga is fine for exercise & inner peace, but you don't really socialize much in yoga class. and what else do i do? work. go over to my siblings' house a couple times a week & watch their gigantic tv while they're not home. hide out in my muddy little house with andrew. and walk the dogs. oh no. not only am i itching, but now i'm depressed. i am a loser!
segunda-feira, julho 07, 2003
okay. i know this is my third post today. but i just read this, which i will not only link to but paste below.
i also recommend we all read this which is almost too much to bear. my brother & sister & i all got to go to college because our sweet daddy works so much overtime. for many working class americans, overtime pay means not just the difference between only making ends meet & actually having a life, but sometimes makes the difference in whether or not those ends get met!
a dog can only be kicked so long before it jumps up to bite you in the ass. bush & co's arrogance will only be tolerated for so long. i have to believe this.
and finally, there is this quick read from common dreamsabout how bush is an egomaniac with a messianic complex who believes he gets his orders directly from god. if nothing else, it’s humorous!
from The Progressive
July 7, 2003
Bush Can Be Beat
Everywhere I go these days, people ask me one question: Can Bush be beat?
I believe the answer is yes.
I doubt the economy will rebound fast enough (if it does at all) to nudge the unemployment figures much below 6 percent.
I doubt wages will rise in real terms, especially with the slashing of state budgets around the country.
And I doubt the occupation of Iraq will get any rosier any time soon. U.S. soldiers are sitting ducks there, and as Iraqi nationalists and Islamic fundamentalists keep taking potshots at them, the patience of the American people will gradually run thin, especially as Bush's pretexts grow more embarrassing by the minute.
Bush dragged the nation into Iraq on a leash of lies, and the American people now have a chronically sore neck.
An interesting poll appeared last month in the Chicago Tribune. While the poll found that 57 percent of Illinois voters approved of the job Bush was doing, only 42 percent were prepared to vote for him again. An equal number did not want to see him reelected.
So all those astronomically high approval ratings we've been seeing for twenty months now don't automatically translate into four more years of plutocracy.
I don't counsel despair. I never counsel despair.
And as I travel around the country, I sense an anger and an intensity from people on the progressive side that I've not encountered, even in the depths of the Reagan days. Karl Rove, you've got your work cut out for you.
-- Matthew Rothschild
i also recommend we all read this which is almost too much to bear. my brother & sister & i all got to go to college because our sweet daddy works so much overtime. for many working class americans, overtime pay means not just the difference between only making ends meet & actually having a life, but sometimes makes the difference in whether or not those ends get met!
a dog can only be kicked so long before it jumps up to bite you in the ass. bush & co's arrogance will only be tolerated for so long. i have to believe this.
and finally, there is this quick read from common dreamsabout how bush is an egomaniac with a messianic complex who believes he gets his orders directly from god. if nothing else, it’s humorous!
from The Progressive
July 7, 2003
Bush Can Be Beat
Everywhere I go these days, people ask me one question: Can Bush be beat?
I believe the answer is yes.
I doubt the economy will rebound fast enough (if it does at all) to nudge the unemployment figures much below 6 percent.
I doubt wages will rise in real terms, especially with the slashing of state budgets around the country.
And I doubt the occupation of Iraq will get any rosier any time soon. U.S. soldiers are sitting ducks there, and as Iraqi nationalists and Islamic fundamentalists keep taking potshots at them, the patience of the American people will gradually run thin, especially as Bush's pretexts grow more embarrassing by the minute.
Bush dragged the nation into Iraq on a leash of lies, and the American people now have a chronically sore neck.
An interesting poll appeared last month in the Chicago Tribune. While the poll found that 57 percent of Illinois voters approved of the job Bush was doing, only 42 percent were prepared to vote for him again. An equal number did not want to see him reelected.
So all those astronomically high approval ratings we've been seeing for twenty months now don't automatically translate into four more years of plutocracy.
I don't counsel despair. I never counsel despair.
And as I travel around the country, I sense an anger and an intensity from people on the progressive side that I've not encountered, even in the depths of the Reagan days. Karl Rove, you've got your work cut out for you.
-- Matthew Rothschild
why can i not stop eating the goddamn hershey's nuggets??!! everyday i wake up, get dressed and think, "today i am going to get serious about losing some weight. today i am going to eat better." yet here i am, sitting on my expanding ass at the computer while slurping a carb-and-sugar-loaded dr pepper and knocking off a bag of chocolates. today the pants that were baggy when i bought them 2 months ago are fitting nice & snug. not a good sign. not at all!
but why should it really matter? so what if i'm suffering from rapidly expanding cellulite! beauty is inside or whatever. and really, it's just the icing on the cake to the zits and unruly hair (which is becoming browner and browner with each new quarter inch of root. when did i go from blonde to redhead to light brown?? why can't i just have this one thing work out nicely??) i'm confident in my abilities & my intelligence & i know that's sexier than any outward appearance. i don't have to be completely shallow about it, right? but 29 years of tv & fashion magazines & societal expectations are difficult to shrug off with a little reason, especially when so many of those years were spent fumbling and awkward and mired in incredibly low self-esteem issues.
so this brings me to a subject that i want to address. saturday's fight with andrew. okay, background: i'm tired, stressed, emotionally loaded. we're late, of course, which never fails to stress me out. there's tension due to general crankiness on both our parts before the big going away/bridal shower dinner.
we get to the restaurant & i immediately go to the restroom. i had set my stuff down next to my sister, but hadn't really staked out a seat yet. i get back to the table & andrew's at a side table where there are no extra chairs, so i sit down in the chair next to shannon. so that's weird - we're at a dinner party & i'm sitting with my back to him at a completely different table.
then he & the others at his table tell me there's this waitress that totally looks like me & is my long-lost sister. okay. whatever.
fast forward to the end of dinner. i hear my name called & andrew points out the waitress.
six out of seven days i either loathe my appearance or don't give it much thought. but then there's that day where you barely glance in the mirror, yet know that you look phenomenal. and everytime you see your reflection you think, "who's that hottie? oh yeah, that's me!"
then there are those days where you think you look great, but a glance in the mirror proves otherwise and you feel that sinking feeling: god, why did i even show my face outside the house today?
but saturday was one of those days where i felt like i looked hot. then this waitress gets pointed out to me.
she is not hot. and i'm a pretty good judge of beauty in women. i know when women are attractive. in fact, i think most women know when other women are hot, and not just because we're jealous. we can legitimately be attracted to other women or find other women attractive without wanting to fuck them. this does not make us lesbians, it's just the way it is. in fact, i read somewhere about a study of people's reactions to pictures of other humans and women's brains reacted the same to pictures shown of attractive men & attractive women. most men won't admit when other men are hotties, but women can.
by that same token, i also know 100% when a chick is most certainly not hot. this woman was one of them. no, she wasn't frighteningly ugly. but she was frumpy. not fat, but so far from thin that you wouldn't want to be her. she had no eyebrows. i know my eyebrow hair is faint & this makes me look less attractive so i sometimes color them in, her eyebrows were really, really light & this isn't really attractive at all. people just don't look right without eyebrows. she had zits (so do i, but most of the time i like to deny this fact). her face was wholly unremarkable in that way that lets you totally overlook the person. she wasn't just not attractive, she was non-existant in her unattractiveness. i can't imagine anyone doing a double-take at the sight of this woman. so, no freakishly grotesqueness, but certainly not the hottie i imagined i was.
i don't want to trash someone i've not met. i don't want to be catty & put down someone's appearance. i despise standards of beauty. i'm sure many people think this woman is beautiful in her own way. but keep in mind that i was being compared to this person. and the only similarity i could recognize was that she had red hair & wasn't thin at all. and frankly, i thought her butt was much wider and flatter than mine, but i'm also in denial about my so-not-hot butt.
it hurt. you don't want to know that this is how your boyfriend sees you. he claims that he didn't find her fat or unattactive at all. but it was this slap of reality: i am not pretty. to outsiders i do not appear as attractive as i think i do to myself. maybe this is what andrew finds attractive. i don't know. but i didn't find it attractive & what this says about me, i'm not sure.
none of this should matter. but when i'm already feeling hurt & confused & tired & cranky & emotional, something like this makes me snap.
then i did something truly ugly.
for as long as i can remember, my greatest problem has been constantly having my foot in my mouth. through the years, i've gotten better at thinking before i speak. but not always. not nearly enough.
i turned to andrew & i said, in front of everyone, "that girl is fat and ugly. do you really think i look like that? fuck you." then i went to the restroom, where i couldn't stop scowling. when i came back, he had left the restaurant and gotten a ride home.
i felt horrible. i was still deeply offended at the comparison & completely devastated by the realization that i wasn't some enormous hottie, especially to my boyfriend. but i just felt like a terrible person for what i said & had that all-too-familiar feeling of wanting to just take it back why didn't i just say something else what the fuck is wrong with me.
but we patched things up. it's okay now, i guess. i'm still bothered by the memory of the waitress. but i don't know if that's because of the humiliating comparison or my appalling reaction to it. anyway, this is more psychoanalysis than i want to get into right now.
but why should it really matter? so what if i'm suffering from rapidly expanding cellulite! beauty is inside or whatever. and really, it's just the icing on the cake to the zits and unruly hair (which is becoming browner and browner with each new quarter inch of root. when did i go from blonde to redhead to light brown?? why can't i just have this one thing work out nicely??) i'm confident in my abilities & my intelligence & i know that's sexier than any outward appearance. i don't have to be completely shallow about it, right? but 29 years of tv & fashion magazines & societal expectations are difficult to shrug off with a little reason, especially when so many of those years were spent fumbling and awkward and mired in incredibly low self-esteem issues.
so this brings me to a subject that i want to address. saturday's fight with andrew. okay, background: i'm tired, stressed, emotionally loaded. we're late, of course, which never fails to stress me out. there's tension due to general crankiness on both our parts before the big going away/bridal shower dinner.
we get to the restaurant & i immediately go to the restroom. i had set my stuff down next to my sister, but hadn't really staked out a seat yet. i get back to the table & andrew's at a side table where there are no extra chairs, so i sit down in the chair next to shannon. so that's weird - we're at a dinner party & i'm sitting with my back to him at a completely different table.
then he & the others at his table tell me there's this waitress that totally looks like me & is my long-lost sister. okay. whatever.
fast forward to the end of dinner. i hear my name called & andrew points out the waitress.
six out of seven days i either loathe my appearance or don't give it much thought. but then there's that day where you barely glance in the mirror, yet know that you look phenomenal. and everytime you see your reflection you think, "who's that hottie? oh yeah, that's me!"
then there are those days where you think you look great, but a glance in the mirror proves otherwise and you feel that sinking feeling: god, why did i even show my face outside the house today?
but saturday was one of those days where i felt like i looked hot. then this waitress gets pointed out to me.
she is not hot. and i'm a pretty good judge of beauty in women. i know when women are attractive. in fact, i think most women know when other women are hot, and not just because we're jealous. we can legitimately be attracted to other women or find other women attractive without wanting to fuck them. this does not make us lesbians, it's just the way it is. in fact, i read somewhere about a study of people's reactions to pictures of other humans and women's brains reacted the same to pictures shown of attractive men & attractive women. most men won't admit when other men are hotties, but women can.
by that same token, i also know 100% when a chick is most certainly not hot. this woman was one of them. no, she wasn't frighteningly ugly. but she was frumpy. not fat, but so far from thin that you wouldn't want to be her. she had no eyebrows. i know my eyebrow hair is faint & this makes me look less attractive so i sometimes color them in, her eyebrows were really, really light & this isn't really attractive at all. people just don't look right without eyebrows. she had zits (so do i, but most of the time i like to deny this fact). her face was wholly unremarkable in that way that lets you totally overlook the person. she wasn't just not attractive, she was non-existant in her unattractiveness. i can't imagine anyone doing a double-take at the sight of this woman. so, no freakishly grotesqueness, but certainly not the hottie i imagined i was.
i don't want to trash someone i've not met. i don't want to be catty & put down someone's appearance. i despise standards of beauty. i'm sure many people think this woman is beautiful in her own way. but keep in mind that i was being compared to this person. and the only similarity i could recognize was that she had red hair & wasn't thin at all. and frankly, i thought her butt was much wider and flatter than mine, but i'm also in denial about my so-not-hot butt.
it hurt. you don't want to know that this is how your boyfriend sees you. he claims that he didn't find her fat or unattactive at all. but it was this slap of reality: i am not pretty. to outsiders i do not appear as attractive as i think i do to myself. maybe this is what andrew finds attractive. i don't know. but i didn't find it attractive & what this says about me, i'm not sure.
none of this should matter. but when i'm already feeling hurt & confused & tired & cranky & emotional, something like this makes me snap.
then i did something truly ugly.
for as long as i can remember, my greatest problem has been constantly having my foot in my mouth. through the years, i've gotten better at thinking before i speak. but not always. not nearly enough.
i turned to andrew & i said, in front of everyone, "that girl is fat and ugly. do you really think i look like that? fuck you." then i went to the restroom, where i couldn't stop scowling. when i came back, he had left the restaurant and gotten a ride home.
i felt horrible. i was still deeply offended at the comparison & completely devastated by the realization that i wasn't some enormous hottie, especially to my boyfriend. but i just felt like a terrible person for what i said & had that all-too-familiar feeling of wanting to just take it back why didn't i just say something else what the fuck is wrong with me.
but we patched things up. it's okay now, i guess. i'm still bothered by the memory of the waitress. but i don't know if that's because of the humiliating comparison or my appalling reaction to it. anyway, this is more psychoanalysis than i want to get into right now.
it's monday. still recovering from a 3-day holiday weekend. sleep was filled with nightmares related to a very stressful & distressing situation that i can't really discuss publicly. i also have goddamn poison ivy AGAIN thanks to my damn dogs escaping AGAIN, romping in the woods & then bringing home some urushiol oil for my scratching displeasure. my alarm clock is running low on batteries, so i woke up later than i'd planned (this is after the itching woke me up at 5:30 & i finally got back to sleep around 7, ostensibly for a half hour nap that turned into almost 2 hours). i arrived in my office about 9:45 and 10 minutes later remembered a 10am meeting & had to rush out the door.
but then i checked out amanda's blog & decided to kick things off with this:
Take the What
animal best portrays your sexual appetite?? Quiz
this weekend was fun, but also kind of rough. i overdid it on the yoga & woke up on friday unable to move my right arm or turn my head because of a terrible crick in my neck. actually, crick sounds little and cute. no, this was more like a vice grip on my muscles, a wrenching pain. the first thing i did this morning was make an appointment with the chiropractor! so, i spent most of the 4th of july on the couch, floating on muscle relaxers.
there was some talk of people coming over to shoot off fireworks & hang out & i was actually excited about that. no one had been to my house - besides my family - and i needed the distraction from my pain. but as the day progressed, it looked like that wasn't going to happen. i felt really let down - another sucky 4th of july. my only consolation was that it rained most of the day, so i didn't feel like i was missing out on some fun lake action or anything. i guess it's okay to spend a holiday alone at home, trying to clean the house, if there really isn't much of a possibility of great things to do outside. but it just reaffirmed my despisal of all things holiday. why do all holidays suck for me?
andrew came home later that evening, bringing will with him. we had dinner - i'd bbq'd a brisket - and the holiday was only slightly improved by sitting around, watching crap on tv with my boyfriend & an 85 year-old retired history professor. then the calls started coming in around 9pm. explosives had been purchased & i live in a place where you can legally set off fireworks to your heart's desire. soon we had a decent party going & more fireworks than we could ignite. no one got their hand/eye/finger blown off & everyone got home safely. i forgot about my pain & even managed to get a burst of cleaning energy & pick up all the exploded firework remnants & beer bottles before going to bed.
saturday was spent running around, preparing for amanda & chris's semi-surprise going away/bridal shower party. that too was a success. we had dinner out at the oasis & an after party at my siblings' house. i wasn't in the best mood, though. i was still in pain, very tired & not really emotionally prepared to deal with the implications of the party. i fought with andrew & ended up leaving before midnight because i was so exhausted.
yesterday was kind of a day of rest, though i got paid for it. for the first time in over a month, i went to work at the convention center. i expected to be outside in the heat, hating life, all day. but instead i was outside in a little, air-conditioned guard shack, kicking back & reading for 7 hours. i only had to get up to tend to official business maybe half a dozen times. i don't even remember when i last spent a day just reading. sure, it would have been better to read in a more comfortable spot like a couch or bed, but getting paid to read all day ain't bad!
speaking of getting paid, i should probably be getting back to my real job now. i just have one more addition to a previous list about good things about living in the country (besides legal fireworks) and that's the fact that we live just a few miles from a semi-secluded boat ramp on the colorado river. last night andrew & i made up from saturday's fight down by the river, underneath the bridge, watching the moonlight reflect off the water. sorry, no make-up sex by the river, though. there were a couple of cars there, complete with tables set up with dominos & a grill! we didn't see the owners of this little camp, but we knew they must be nearby. sure, i have no problem with voyeursism/exhibitionism, but we went home anyway. those are all the details i'm going to give now...
but then i checked out amanda's blog & decided to kick things off with this:
Take the What
animal best portrays your sexual appetite?? Quiz
this weekend was fun, but also kind of rough. i overdid it on the yoga & woke up on friday unable to move my right arm or turn my head because of a terrible crick in my neck. actually, crick sounds little and cute. no, this was more like a vice grip on my muscles, a wrenching pain. the first thing i did this morning was make an appointment with the chiropractor! so, i spent most of the 4th of july on the couch, floating on muscle relaxers.
there was some talk of people coming over to shoot off fireworks & hang out & i was actually excited about that. no one had been to my house - besides my family - and i needed the distraction from my pain. but as the day progressed, it looked like that wasn't going to happen. i felt really let down - another sucky 4th of july. my only consolation was that it rained most of the day, so i didn't feel like i was missing out on some fun lake action or anything. i guess it's okay to spend a holiday alone at home, trying to clean the house, if there really isn't much of a possibility of great things to do outside. but it just reaffirmed my despisal of all things holiday. why do all holidays suck for me?
andrew came home later that evening, bringing will with him. we had dinner - i'd bbq'd a brisket - and the holiday was only slightly improved by sitting around, watching crap on tv with my boyfriend & an 85 year-old retired history professor. then the calls started coming in around 9pm. explosives had been purchased & i live in a place where you can legally set off fireworks to your heart's desire. soon we had a decent party going & more fireworks than we could ignite. no one got their hand/eye/finger blown off & everyone got home safely. i forgot about my pain & even managed to get a burst of cleaning energy & pick up all the exploded firework remnants & beer bottles before going to bed.
saturday was spent running around, preparing for amanda & chris's semi-surprise going away/bridal shower party. that too was a success. we had dinner out at the oasis & an after party at my siblings' house. i wasn't in the best mood, though. i was still in pain, very tired & not really emotionally prepared to deal with the implications of the party. i fought with andrew & ended up leaving before midnight because i was so exhausted.
yesterday was kind of a day of rest, though i got paid for it. for the first time in over a month, i went to work at the convention center. i expected to be outside in the heat, hating life, all day. but instead i was outside in a little, air-conditioned guard shack, kicking back & reading for 7 hours. i only had to get up to tend to official business maybe half a dozen times. i don't even remember when i last spent a day just reading. sure, it would have been better to read in a more comfortable spot like a couch or bed, but getting paid to read all day ain't bad!
speaking of getting paid, i should probably be getting back to my real job now. i just have one more addition to a previous list about good things about living in the country (besides legal fireworks) and that's the fact that we live just a few miles from a semi-secluded boat ramp on the colorado river. last night andrew & i made up from saturday's fight down by the river, underneath the bridge, watching the moonlight reflect off the water. sorry, no make-up sex by the river, though. there were a couple of cars there, complete with tables set up with dominos & a grill! we didn't see the owners of this little camp, but we knew they must be nearby. sure, i have no problem with voyeursism/exhibitionism, but we went home anyway. those are all the details i'm going to give now...
quinta-feira, julho 03, 2003
sorry, i have to post again. i just read this week's savage love and there are more details on "santorum." in fact, this week's column is all about santorum. so, if you can't get enough of it, or just like laughing at the way sen. santorum's name is now being used, give it a read. warning: not for weak stomachs.
yesterday amanda summed me up quite accurately as the sappiest romantic she knows with a callous, cynical exterior.
well, this sappy romantic is once again saying good-bye to her best friends as they go off on the adventure that we've been talking about for what seems like forever. and once again i've chosen to stay behind so i can get domestic. except this time i don't have the same doubts about the man. but i'm so torn. part of me (the cynical, callous part that just wants to be independent) wants to say "screw love!" and head off on new adventures, finding my own way in the world. that's the part of me that takes pride in the notion of being someone's eccentric spinster aunt with all the cats & the spur of the moment trips around the world.
last year i came to grips with this fantasy. if i end up that way, i will be perfectly fine. i have no problem with living that life. but do i? i thought i was fine with this. i thought i wanted to reject the notion of marriage & family.
i don't know if anyone noticed, but last year there seemed to be another resurgence in the media of what i like to call "biological clock panic." everytime i picked up one of those newsrags like newsweek or time, there would be another article about how all these women that thought they could have it all and put off breeding til they'd established themselves in their careers and now - gasp! - they can't get pregnant! oh no. what worth does a woman have if she can't spit out a baby? it's the end of the freakin' overpopulated world, i tell you! if you read those articles, you'd think it was impossible for a woman to find happiness & fullfillment in this world without meeting expectations of domesticity and reproduction. bullshit.
those articles pissed me off. those articles fueled my desire to reject all notions of traditional domestic roles. yes, i was envisioning myself as the cool old lady with the cats, the wrinkles, the long grey hair, the fuzzy armpits and quite possibly lots of tinkling, jangling bracelets. oh, and probably a few more tattoos.
then one day i'm driving down the freeway, listening to an npr segment that went against all those other articles. they were highlighting women who had chosen another route - women who'd found fulfillment in their careers & their friends & didn't feel the need to settle down & get married. childless by choice. happy. imagine that! here, finally, was the news that i wanted to hear! here was one small media voice counteracting all the years of poison by vogue and cosmo and soap operas and talk shows and usa today. this was what i'd been waiting for!
so, why did i burst into tears in the middle of I-35? i'd been trying to convince myself that the whole domestic thing was hooey and i didn't need or want it. but the truth is that i am a sappy romantic (why else would i keep falling in love with these idiots who don't deserve me in the first place??) and i maybe, possibly, just a little bit might want to maybe have a kid someday (insert shock & awe).
which brings me to a slight aside & then i'll wrap this up. i do have a point here, i think. as uncomfortable & kinda disgusting as it seems, i sorta feel like i'd like to experience pregnancy & childbirth maybe once. i'm fine with never doing that, but i'm also fine with giving it a shot. that part doesn't freak me out. babies totally freak me out & the sound of a screaming child is quite possibly the most stressful thing in the world to me. yesterday morning i went to a meeting at the WIC/Shots for Tots office & there were about 100 children in that waiting room, all screaming at various octaves. i had to go outside til my coworkers arrived because i thought i was going to lose my mind. i'm freaked out by helpless babies and breast feeding (though i think breast feeding is wonderful & natural & every mother should do it). i really like little kids & teens are okay, too. i like the idea of raising a child & maybe doing it right. so, i think maybe the best option would be to adopt a toddler or something.
anyway, back to crying in the car. i think i was mourning the death of the illusion that i was 100% one of those women that choose to stay single & childless. i'm never happy in relationships. my pattern is to fall in love & be blissfully happy for a few weeks or months, then realize that i'm in a monogamous relationship & promptly fall into a deep depression, then spend the next year or so finding ways to fuck it up and reasons to get out of the relationship while simulataneously clinging to the last shreds of "making it work" instead of letting go & in the process driving my friends mad with all my whining, bitching & crying. (yes, i seem to be gaining a fondess for run-on sentences!)
but deep down i actually want to have a meaningful, equal, loving partnership with someone & have it last. i just have to learn how to curb my flight response. i'm doing a pretty good job right now, but it's still a bit too soon to tell. i have my good days & my bad days. i could say that part of my problem is an innate distrust of love due to a very damaging emotionally abusive relationship at a young age, but maybe it's time i get over that and grow up a little.
and today is one of those days where i think about my best friend moving away & blam! instant tears. today i want to go, too. today i want to be free to go. but i won't because i want to give this other thing a shot. when i first met andrew, i had that cheesy, stereotypical (and fictional?) response - response i'd never really had before - of thinking, "this is the person i'm going to spend the rest of my life with." i don't know why or how i had that thought. too many meg ryan movies? was i drunk? but i'm still feeling that most of the time, save for those moments where i think, "what am i doing with this person? what am i doing with my life?? why am i not moving to san francisco right now?!" but those freak-out moments are few and certainly not the nagging voice in my head (that nagging voice was more like a screaming voice in my head when i was married - i have no idea what i was thinking, or not thinking, then!)
and if it doesn't work, i'm comforted to know that i can always pick myself up and do whatever i set my mind to. i could be that eccentric aunt with the exciting, adventurous life. i could do that.
but what i think i really want is to find out how to be the woman who has that life, but also has a life partner and maybe even a little genetic replication to go along with it. i just have to convince andrew to abandon his packrat ways and go on an unplanned, underfinanced backpacking trip around the world with me...
well, this sappy romantic is once again saying good-bye to her best friends as they go off on the adventure that we've been talking about for what seems like forever. and once again i've chosen to stay behind so i can get domestic. except this time i don't have the same doubts about the man. but i'm so torn. part of me (the cynical, callous part that just wants to be independent) wants to say "screw love!" and head off on new adventures, finding my own way in the world. that's the part of me that takes pride in the notion of being someone's eccentric spinster aunt with all the cats & the spur of the moment trips around the world.
last year i came to grips with this fantasy. if i end up that way, i will be perfectly fine. i have no problem with living that life. but do i? i thought i was fine with this. i thought i wanted to reject the notion of marriage & family.
i don't know if anyone noticed, but last year there seemed to be another resurgence in the media of what i like to call "biological clock panic." everytime i picked up one of those newsrags like newsweek or time, there would be another article about how all these women that thought they could have it all and put off breeding til they'd established themselves in their careers and now - gasp! - they can't get pregnant! oh no. what worth does a woman have if she can't spit out a baby? it's the end of the freakin' overpopulated world, i tell you! if you read those articles, you'd think it was impossible for a woman to find happiness & fullfillment in this world without meeting expectations of domesticity and reproduction. bullshit.
those articles pissed me off. those articles fueled my desire to reject all notions of traditional domestic roles. yes, i was envisioning myself as the cool old lady with the cats, the wrinkles, the long grey hair, the fuzzy armpits and quite possibly lots of tinkling, jangling bracelets. oh, and probably a few more tattoos.
then one day i'm driving down the freeway, listening to an npr segment that went against all those other articles. they were highlighting women who had chosen another route - women who'd found fulfillment in their careers & their friends & didn't feel the need to settle down & get married. childless by choice. happy. imagine that! here, finally, was the news that i wanted to hear! here was one small media voice counteracting all the years of poison by vogue and cosmo and soap operas and talk shows and usa today. this was what i'd been waiting for!
so, why did i burst into tears in the middle of I-35? i'd been trying to convince myself that the whole domestic thing was hooey and i didn't need or want it. but the truth is that i am a sappy romantic (why else would i keep falling in love with these idiots who don't deserve me in the first place??) and i maybe, possibly, just a little bit might want to maybe have a kid someday (insert shock & awe).
which brings me to a slight aside & then i'll wrap this up. i do have a point here, i think. as uncomfortable & kinda disgusting as it seems, i sorta feel like i'd like to experience pregnancy & childbirth maybe once. i'm fine with never doing that, but i'm also fine with giving it a shot. that part doesn't freak me out. babies totally freak me out & the sound of a screaming child is quite possibly the most stressful thing in the world to me. yesterday morning i went to a meeting at the WIC/Shots for Tots office & there were about 100 children in that waiting room, all screaming at various octaves. i had to go outside til my coworkers arrived because i thought i was going to lose my mind. i'm freaked out by helpless babies and breast feeding (though i think breast feeding is wonderful & natural & every mother should do it). i really like little kids & teens are okay, too. i like the idea of raising a child & maybe doing it right. so, i think maybe the best option would be to adopt a toddler or something.
anyway, back to crying in the car. i think i was mourning the death of the illusion that i was 100% one of those women that choose to stay single & childless. i'm never happy in relationships. my pattern is to fall in love & be blissfully happy for a few weeks or months, then realize that i'm in a monogamous relationship & promptly fall into a deep depression, then spend the next year or so finding ways to fuck it up and reasons to get out of the relationship while simulataneously clinging to the last shreds of "making it work" instead of letting go & in the process driving my friends mad with all my whining, bitching & crying. (yes, i seem to be gaining a fondess for run-on sentences!)
but deep down i actually want to have a meaningful, equal, loving partnership with someone & have it last. i just have to learn how to curb my flight response. i'm doing a pretty good job right now, but it's still a bit too soon to tell. i have my good days & my bad days. i could say that part of my problem is an innate distrust of love due to a very damaging emotionally abusive relationship at a young age, but maybe it's time i get over that and grow up a little.
and today is one of those days where i think about my best friend moving away & blam! instant tears. today i want to go, too. today i want to be free to go. but i won't because i want to give this other thing a shot. when i first met andrew, i had that cheesy, stereotypical (and fictional?) response - response i'd never really had before - of thinking, "this is the person i'm going to spend the rest of my life with." i don't know why or how i had that thought. too many meg ryan movies? was i drunk? but i'm still feeling that most of the time, save for those moments where i think, "what am i doing with this person? what am i doing with my life?? why am i not moving to san francisco right now?!" but those freak-out moments are few and certainly not the nagging voice in my head (that nagging voice was more like a screaming voice in my head when i was married - i have no idea what i was thinking, or not thinking, then!)
and if it doesn't work, i'm comforted to know that i can always pick myself up and do whatever i set my mind to. i could be that eccentric aunt with the exciting, adventurous life. i could do that.
but what i think i really want is to find out how to be the woman who has that life, but also has a life partner and maybe even a little genetic replication to go along with it. i just have to convince andrew to abandon his packrat ways and go on an unplanned, underfinanced backpacking trip around the world with me...
god this has been a long week. it's thursday, which is like friday because i'm working a short day & have friday off, but it feels like thursday should have happened 2 days ago.
yeah, i've worked a couple of long days & i haven't been getting to bed til about midnight every night. i've had other obligations to attend to and i've been squeezing in yoga when i can - usually at 7:30am. but i feel like this week i've been more tired than usual. maybe it's time to do a little cleansing; maybe a fast. my steady diet of crappy food & american spirits is just not sustaining me!
anyway, today i was skimming the salon table talk discussion on howard dean and the following post summed up much of what i've been feeling about dean. so here it is, for your reading pleasure:
Forgive me for being a board hog...(or not..)but ever since I jumped in for Dean I have been trying to analyze what is about my gut which makes me so convinced he is the one.
A lot of people are distrustful of things which can't be put down to pure reason, but my gut sez otherwise.
And by this I mean the signals you get when you presented with choices which you have to make quickly.
And everything I sense and reason and believe and feel is telling me that in order to beat George Bush, the majority of Democrats is going to have to come to consenus who our candidate is way before Iowa.
We simply don't have the time or money or energy to fight what is going to amount to war if we actually are interesting in winning.
And the past two weeks have done nothing to make me believe otherwise.
This isn't a matter of right or left...mainstream or any other conventional term you want to apply to something which can't be described in conventional terms.
This is a matter of finding a good enough guy to be the figurehead for a movement which has as it underlying message....
"We are not Nuts. George Bush is a lying evil moron." and we are sick being gaslighted by people who are pretending that he's not."
yeah, i've worked a couple of long days & i haven't been getting to bed til about midnight every night. i've had other obligations to attend to and i've been squeezing in yoga when i can - usually at 7:30am. but i feel like this week i've been more tired than usual. maybe it's time to do a little cleansing; maybe a fast. my steady diet of crappy food & american spirits is just not sustaining me!
anyway, today i was skimming the salon table talk discussion on howard dean and the following post summed up much of what i've been feeling about dean. so here it is, for your reading pleasure:
Forgive me for being a board hog...(or not..)but ever since I jumped in for Dean I have been trying to analyze what is about my gut which makes me so convinced he is the one.
A lot of people are distrustful of things which can't be put down to pure reason, but my gut sez otherwise.
And by this I mean the signals you get when you presented with choices which you have to make quickly.
And everything I sense and reason and believe and feel is telling me that in order to beat George Bush, the majority of Democrats is going to have to come to consenus who our candidate is way before Iowa.
We simply don't have the time or money or energy to fight what is going to amount to war if we actually are interesting in winning.
And the past two weeks have done nothing to make me believe otherwise.
This isn't a matter of right or left...mainstream or any other conventional term you want to apply to something which can't be described in conventional terms.
This is a matter of finding a good enough guy to be the figurehead for a movement which has as it underlying message....
"We are not Nuts. George Bush is a lying evil moron." and we are sick being gaslighted by people who are pretending that he's not."
quarta-feira, julho 02, 2003
reading amanda's blog today reminded me of a blog i started last week. i was irked at an article a friend had forwarded me about howard dean's appearance on meet the press and how he appeared to waffle on some issues. i can't really put my finger on it, but it really bugged me. i guess i didn't feel like i was being engaged in any kind of discourse about the democratic presidential hopefuls. i felt almost like i was being sent smugness via email: see, the candidate you like isn't perfect. so there!
no, he's not perfect. there are certainly issues on which i disagree with gov. dean. but i like him. and as amanda put it so eloquently, he's giving some very disenchanted liberals a shred of hope that all is not lost in this country. there might actually be a democrat with enough of a spine to stand up to bush. i think he might have a shot at winning if he gets the democratic nomination. of course, this would depend on the majority of democrats distinguishing themselves from their spineless leaders.
i think it's okay to support a candidate that differs from you on some issues. dean is more unapologetically pro-choice than any of the other candidates. yes, i like the civil unions thing. he's attacking bush on the economy, which needs to be done and done and done because i'm sick of feeling hopeless about my financial future! he spoke out against the iraq war. he's all about universal health care. okay, so we've got to work on this death penalty thing. if i learned a little more, there would probably be many other issues i wasn't so fond of, but i'm willing to forgive that.
i'm willing to forgive that because i recognize that the world is not all about me and my beliefs. i recognize that in representing the views of a varied, diverse population, you have to be a little more centrist. i fear a candidate that's completely black & white, party line no matter what. someone like that doesn't have a brain in my book; they're just doing what they're told to do, what the money says they should do.
right now we're seeing the results of what happens when someone who disagrees with me 100% is in office. bush is destroying our economy. he's set us up to be the big bullies in the world - not to be trusted. he's absolutely wrecked diplomacy and decades of hard-won treaties, civil rights and human rights. he's done his best to send women back into the hot kitchens, one baby strapped to the tit, another bun in the oven, 6 or 7 more screaming at her feet. the environment? we don't need no stinkin' trees! and who needs clean water when bush's buddies can make millions by forcing us to buy it from them? hell, he's probably got stock in an oil company with secret plans to sell air for breathing! who the fuck cares what kind of world we leave to future generations? all that really matters is that republicans get richer now.
i'm devastated by the current state of affairs. but just as i can't stand the bush administration, i understand how someone with a viewpoint different from mine might cringe at the thought of my perfect candidate ruling the world.
sure, that perfect candidate would naturally be the best in the bunch. the world would be a better place. i am right on almost everything, after all! but, yeah, i can concede that my perfect progressive candidate might not be the perfect leader for a nation full of very different people with very different viewpoints.
but it is exactly these different viewpoints that scare me now. i'm beginning to fear that though i may be right, maybe i really am in the minority. what if the majority of americans really do support bush's policies? what if the majority of americans really don't want what i want? first of all, this is scary. and sad. second of all, i CANNOT believe that this could possibly be the case. and that's not just because almost all of the people i surround myself with agree with me on many important issues. i just can't fathom how intelligent, rational people could think that destroying the environment, taking away civil liberties, discriminating against everyone who's different from you and stripping women of their rights is the way to go. people who believe that must be nuts, right?
are the majority of americans nuts in my book? could they possibly be unintelligent and irrational? the u.s. does have some of the worst education in the developed world, after all. we are constantly being "dumbed down" by the media. this could be far worse than i originally thought at the beginning of this post!
okay, now i've forgotten where i was going with all this. it's the end of the day. i didn't get much sleep last night. i feel like i'm getting sick. maybe i should wrap this up.
so in closing, i'd like to say that if this article is true, then the women in this country just don't get it. i cannot believe that less than 50% of women in the u.s. are not pro-choice. i have to be reading this wrong. or i'm still asleep and this is a nightmare.
how could all these women be against legalized abortion when about 1/2 the women in this country will have an abortion at some point in their lives? and if 1/2 the women in this country are getting abortions, think of all the friends, relatives, partners, etc. that are also affected by abortion (and probably positively most of the time). i just don't get it. someone please tell me how this could be!!
no, he's not perfect. there are certainly issues on which i disagree with gov. dean. but i like him. and as amanda put it so eloquently, he's giving some very disenchanted liberals a shred of hope that all is not lost in this country. there might actually be a democrat with enough of a spine to stand up to bush. i think he might have a shot at winning if he gets the democratic nomination. of course, this would depend on the majority of democrats distinguishing themselves from their spineless leaders.
i think it's okay to support a candidate that differs from you on some issues. dean is more unapologetically pro-choice than any of the other candidates. yes, i like the civil unions thing. he's attacking bush on the economy, which needs to be done and done and done because i'm sick of feeling hopeless about my financial future! he spoke out against the iraq war. he's all about universal health care. okay, so we've got to work on this death penalty thing. if i learned a little more, there would probably be many other issues i wasn't so fond of, but i'm willing to forgive that.
i'm willing to forgive that because i recognize that the world is not all about me and my beliefs. i recognize that in representing the views of a varied, diverse population, you have to be a little more centrist. i fear a candidate that's completely black & white, party line no matter what. someone like that doesn't have a brain in my book; they're just doing what they're told to do, what the money says they should do.
right now we're seeing the results of what happens when someone who disagrees with me 100% is in office. bush is destroying our economy. he's set us up to be the big bullies in the world - not to be trusted. he's absolutely wrecked diplomacy and decades of hard-won treaties, civil rights and human rights. he's done his best to send women back into the hot kitchens, one baby strapped to the tit, another bun in the oven, 6 or 7 more screaming at her feet. the environment? we don't need no stinkin' trees! and who needs clean water when bush's buddies can make millions by forcing us to buy it from them? hell, he's probably got stock in an oil company with secret plans to sell air for breathing! who the fuck cares what kind of world we leave to future generations? all that really matters is that republicans get richer now.
i'm devastated by the current state of affairs. but just as i can't stand the bush administration, i understand how someone with a viewpoint different from mine might cringe at the thought of my perfect candidate ruling the world.
sure, that perfect candidate would naturally be the best in the bunch. the world would be a better place. i am right on almost everything, after all! but, yeah, i can concede that my perfect progressive candidate might not be the perfect leader for a nation full of very different people with very different viewpoints.
but it is exactly these different viewpoints that scare me now. i'm beginning to fear that though i may be right, maybe i really am in the minority. what if the majority of americans really do support bush's policies? what if the majority of americans really don't want what i want? first of all, this is scary. and sad. second of all, i CANNOT believe that this could possibly be the case. and that's not just because almost all of the people i surround myself with agree with me on many important issues. i just can't fathom how intelligent, rational people could think that destroying the environment, taking away civil liberties, discriminating against everyone who's different from you and stripping women of their rights is the way to go. people who believe that must be nuts, right?
are the majority of americans nuts in my book? could they possibly be unintelligent and irrational? the u.s. does have some of the worst education in the developed world, after all. we are constantly being "dumbed down" by the media. this could be far worse than i originally thought at the beginning of this post!
okay, now i've forgotten where i was going with all this. it's the end of the day. i didn't get much sleep last night. i feel like i'm getting sick. maybe i should wrap this up.
so in closing, i'd like to say that if this article is true, then the women in this country just don't get it. i cannot believe that less than 50% of women in the u.s. are not pro-choice. i have to be reading this wrong. or i'm still asleep and this is a nightmare.
how could all these women be against legalized abortion when about 1/2 the women in this country will have an abortion at some point in their lives? and if 1/2 the women in this country are getting abortions, think of all the friends, relatives, partners, etc. that are also affected by abortion (and probably positively most of the time). i just don't get it. someone please tell me how this could be!!
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