The king must die

Sadaam Hussein was put to death today.

I wouldn't have given it much thought, but my wife has been a little obsessed about it- checking the news to see when and if it has happened. I've mentioned some of my personal death penalty positions before, but where Sadaam was concerned, I am totally ambivalent. It doesn't matter to me that he was probably clinically insane. He killed a lot of people- and the family's of those victims are calling for blood... I'm self-entitled and arrogant enough that this simply doesn't matter to me or affect me enough for me to even form a strong opinion.

Then there's my wife... my peace-loving, fair-minded wife. I love katy for so many reasons, and this is a perfect example. She is completely unsettled about this execution. This murdering secularist who lived in palaces, but tortured and killed in the name of the Koran. With all the evil and sadness and war in the news today, she is disarmed that an execution is seen as a positive. This man affects her because he is human.

I am ambivalent and sometimes callus and too often feel comfortable falling on the side of the majority. I love that my "other half" is so grounded in non-violence that in my house there will never be a rejoicing in execution. She reminds me to form an opinion. Let not laziness and apathy prevent philosophical debate... consider current events independent of a mob's mentality... Perhaps a "call for blood" does not really belong in the same story as "justice". Perhaps we should not kill people to teach them that killing people is wrong.

Can you see why I can't imagine raising children without this woman?

Good luck and such

My mom and I fairly superstitious. We don't put shoes on tables (in fact it makes me cringe when Tracy does it, to the point where I think she actually thinks twice before doing it now), we harbor a cautious belief that the stars are running our lives (or at least influencing them), and we find meaning in many things are probably totally unrelated. If nothing else, it makes life more interesting.

During a conversation with my mom recently I mentioned that I love the sound of geese flying over our house because it reminds me of when I was a kid and the geese would fly low enough to hear the air moving around their wings. She responded that it was good luck. So I went looking for proof (being a fan of science) (and being convinced that it might be Google and not the stars actually running our lives). I could find nothing that suggested that geese flying over your house was good luck, but I did find that finding a goose feather was good luck (and how do you get geese feathers without them flying overhead?).

All of this reminded me of two other sayings that generally make me chuckle:

1. "It's good luck when it rains on your wedding day." I firmly believe this is merely a consolation for those who have rain on their wedding day (we had rain on our wedding day).

2. "Cold hands warm heart." If this is true then perhaps my heart is singularly responsible for global warming. Sorry everyone!

Hitting the Holiday wall

It has been an amazing couple of weeks.

I've never had the experience of feeling so taken care of (by life and by my family/peeps) and feeling so simultaneously out of control. The month of December has been completely overbooked and I've been jumpy like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. So much to do- decorating, cooking, buying, wrapping, sending, carding, gifting... All of the stress- imagined and real- designed and costumed in my own privately haunted mind. By that I mean, No one that knows and/or loves me has required anything of me, and yet I've felt insecure about my merry-making abilities and have spent way (way, way) too much time WORRIED. Worried about nameless things and expectations that don't exist.

I've felt this anxiety pile up (inside my gut). First attempts at counter-acting the stress meant spending chunks of the last 26 days creating- and when possible, completing holiday check lists. We inscribed the cards and did a lot of wrapping early. Despite my attempts at organization, I needed to start taking tums around the 4th of the month, so in addition to list-creation, I focused energy on mindfulness and staying "present" and allowed myself to turn in hours before the electronically timed Holiday Lights and tree decorations clicked themselves off. We watched less TV and cuddled more and still, my tums intake only increased.

Don't get me wrong, I haven't been taking that great of care of myself. For example, I've been eating enough delicious/fattening food to actually feel my arteries harden. I've been doing my part to wear out the magnetic strip on the back our chase card. And I've had no cardiovascular activity (unless you count carrying packages and that fattening food into and our of our house.)

I've wondered how (even with an earnest desire and effort) I can't seem to make it quieter inside my head (or GI tract) at busy times? Even when I give myself permission to say "no" or to prepare frozen foods, why can't I fully appreciate the extra time I've given myself? Why do I use at least some of the time worrying about who I might be letting down? What's the deal with creatures that have "evolved" so far from the true purpose of the "fight or flight" chemical response, that running out of scotch tape mis-fires an adrenaline reaction complete with heart palpitations, sweaty foreheads, metallic-tasting saliva, and the urge to tear down a wall with one swat of your fist?

Adjusting for the fact that there was no snow, and (since we cannot be in two places at once) we were unable to celebrate life with both of our families at the same time, yesterday, was as wonderful as Christmas could be...

It was loud and crazy and over the top. But that's what happens when you get a couple dozen people together in a room with 1,000,000 consumable calories. When kt and I got home, we were nearly silent in our individual puttering. We avoided looking or thinking about our to do lists. We ignored the fact that we both had to work today. I fell asleep on the couch at 8:30pm with my boo in her suduko book at my feet. She woke me at ten and I was asleep again before my head settled completely into it's Posturepedic foam pillow. When I woke up, 9 hours later, I was actually sore from all of the sleeping. Feeling this safe, taken care of, and loved is something wild creatures never get a shot at... I wouldn't trade it for a month of tums!

Link me up!

Ok, I know I'm a total dork (I revel in my dorkdom), but here are 3 links I think you should click on.

1. (NPR story) Italy decides to fight anorexia by banning underweight models (YAY!!!).

2. (Another NPR story) This one is hilarious and fun at the same time, a review of the use of candles in operas in 17th century France. (no really, try it)

3. The ultimate christmas tale... a perennial favorite and must hear for everyone reading this blog (even if you've heard it every year since you were 10, you should hear it again).

Merry Christmas weekend!

Blog black out period

Lately, we've been spending too much time living life, and not enough time blogging... Wait a minute- hmmmm, I guess that's a very good thing.

Living in this house with kt is like a little dream, right now. Our tree is decorated. We have a "wrapping station" set up in the basement- so the Christmas clutter is fairly well contained. We are excited about the gifts we have given/ are getting ready to give to each other and our peeps. We are quite literally ONE and 1/2 gifts (quick pickups, really) away from being completely done with shopping. We are more than 50% done with wrapping. We are reminding each other to take it slow and do what we can but not stress about what is being missed. We are getting into "cooking mode." We have banned the exasperation: "I have so much to do" from our abode. We are laughing and smiling and turning into bed early. So this is Christmas for me right now, and I think i am feeling and smelling and tasting what people mean when they say, "wishing you a 'peaceful' Christmas season"... Who's luckier than me?!?

Apparently farting is popular

I thought this story was particularly hilarious given the fact that we are flying to "round on the outside high in the middle" tomorrow.

So, some lady farts on a plane. She lights a match (this technique works quite well to be sure). The plane gets grounded. The plane is screened, no "bombs" are found, and it takes off again. Eventually, everyone makes it to Dallas and all is well.

What makes this story hilarious is that 1.) She was probably the most thoughtful person on the plane and 2.) on CNN.com, you have a choice between "Top Stories" and "Most Popular". This particular item is no longer a "top story" but it is, not surprisingly, the most popular.

Oh the irony...

You know the kind of joke that happens when you live with someone for a long time? Well, in our house I frequently implore Tracy not to "wash her eyes" because she always has red eyes when she emerges from the shower and I make it seem like she scrubbed them on purpose. She almost always plays along.

Tracy gets styes frequently. And in a last ditch effort to prevent these from occuring, she now has to actually wash her eyes.

Oh the irony.

Maybe it's the show

I'm home- sickie- today... the sore throat won't go away, and the cough kept me up all night. So, this morning I moved from bed to the couch and avoided the driving/work thing altogether.

The talk shows were annoying me and i remembered that SNL was TiVo'd. I started saving SNL b/c I couldn't stay awake until 1am anymore on a saturday and it made me sad to miss the sketch comedy.

Push play on Steve-o.
Laugh at some opening political skit.
Lie down and get comfy.
Fall asleep.
Wake up briefly during first musical number.
Think, "oh good... just in time, 'weekend update' will be next."
Wake up to see the credits rolling.

What happened to me at 10 am is exactly what used to happen to me on saturday nights, to the minute... Losing Tina Fey might have been the last straw... Maybe I'm not the one getting old.

Pocket Change

You read about my recent shopping extravaganza at GAP.

Since then, I have felt so much more fashionable, but wonder why it has taken me so long to make this leap... To boy jeans.

First of all, why has this sensible sizing (waist/length) not ever been given over to women's clothes. I've been told: b/c women have different sized hips and butts and thighs. But um, yeah, so do men- We can still have different "cuts" and "styles" of pants and still start with a more logical system of sizing like "waist/length." These boy-jeans, they just fit me better- it's like wrapping up a tiny package in a large box: What's under these boy jeans? Whoa! A pretty girl.

Last boy-jean observation: So much more pocket space! I'm not kidding. The pockets on these things go halfway down my leg. What's that about?!? The other day, there was something on my chair hurting my thigh (very close to the back of my knee) and I realized it was my wallet (which sits high up on my ass, just under my belt in my girl jeans.) Is this really safe? I try to put very little in these pockets, b/c I'm just vain enough not to want to look "bumpy." But I am a SERIOUS pack rat. I could see over time all kinds of shit getting stashed. It would start innocently enough, gum, cell phone, lipgloss, lists, receipts. But then it would advance to maps, ipods, cameras, wrenches, lightbulbs, magazines, paperback novels, and anything I think I might "need later" in these pockets. A slippery slope, my friends... a slippery slope.

sweet poetry...

ECCE HOMO

Every thing that is

our strength

is also our weakness

everything carries within itself

the stigma of its opposite sign

like a number tattooed on a prisoner's arm

like a letter sewn onto a deportee's coat

there's no escaping it

even if we were to walk at a certain pace

head held high

number and letter warn:

here is a victim of those clothed in wolves' skins

here branded by history

ecce homo

---Ryszard Kapuscinski

(translated from the Polish by Diana Kuprel and Marek Kusiba)

originally published in The New Yorker

Thanksmission

I've got a sore throat, but I feel bad that I haven't posted about Thanksgiving...

I went with my fam to Cape May to Aunt Susan and Ray's B & B. We had an amazing time despite the fact that kt was not with us. Brother j decided to jet out of sub-freezing temperatures and rallied their fam home to a warm turkey meal in Ohio.

The Mission Inn that my Aunt and Uncle have created is beyond beautiful. I'm generally not a B & B person because:
a) I like going to hotels where things are kept new and clean-
b) I'm a sheet snob
c) I don't like wicker
d) I want a TV in my room that is not older than what we watch at home
(This is not asking too much if you've seen our family tv.)

Maybe I have been out of touch too long, and maybe (probably) I have been vacationing in too low an income bracket, but the B & B's I've seen do not offer these simple luxuries...

Not so at the Mission Inn. It is warm without being snobby or stuffy. It is rustic and peaceful and removed from the hussle of real-world pressures, without being removed from flat screen, plasma televisions and newly renovated shower and tubs that you can't wait to bath in!

But best of all was the yummy food and the company. The weather was unseasonably warm and we walked on the beach and into town. We played board games and poker. We watched movies. We went out and stayed in for libations and good cheer. First Thanksgiving with the Mac-attack and she soaked everything she came in touch with (drooling machine that she is.) She cut her first tooth by the end of the weekend- so all that drool was not for naught.

We all got a little run-down b/c it was hard to be four generations under one roof and not wake up early and stay up late. It was hard not to try to stay awake so that more time together could be enjoyed. Thanks S and R for your hospitality- it was a wonderful weekend.

PS- West Coast Webers: I will always get in a game of poker on Thanksgiving in honor of you- can't wait until our next adventure!

Go Buckeyes!

First Ohio went blue, then Ohio State beat the blue!

GO BUCKS!

(and the dotting of the i during the spelling of Ohio by the marching band is just so cool!)

Purchasing Power

Today, kt and i flexed our economic muscle.

Some of it was planned: Holiday shopping kickoff.
(Bench press: 3 reps of 10)
Some of it was spur of the moment: "But Katy, I really NEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed some new jeans and shoes..."
(Bicep curl: 3 reps of 10)
Some of it was inadvertent. Like when Subaru whistled over at us, "Show me what you've got..."
(Squats: 2 reps of 15)

What we had were 2 cars due for oil changes both of whose "check engine" alerts decided to light up as if they were the tree in Rockefeller Center. Two oil changes, 4 rotors, 1 set of brakes, 1 inner and outer CV/axle boot, 4 spark plugs and wires, 1 light bulb, and 1 drive belt later we had officially kicked off the season of spending...

While Suburban Subaru assessed the needs of our cars early in the morning, we ventured out on a day of shopping in style- we had a rental car from the dealer. They gave us a 2007 Legacy which they ended up comp'ing after I signed over my last 2 weeks take home pay for the parts and labor on our wagons. Katy damn near fell in love with the Legacy... she's like a fish around shiny, new objects.

Our first stop: Gap. Once again, they have changed all the color schemes in Gap. The new style is just what I've always loved about Gap- earthy, durable, cool.

Another (not-that-new) change is the "fit" rooms are no longer segregated by gender. THANK YOU, LORD! Just briefly let me expound on the several reasons this is a great move:
1. No more waiting in "women's" lines when there is no one in the "men's" line at the dressing rooms.
2. No more waiting for young boys to run out to show their mom's the outfits they are trying on.
3. No more waiting for women/men to run out and show their opposite sex partners the outfits they are trying on.
4. No more having to get sizes and advice from only the female sales reps, when the guys are getting all the great advice and help from all of the seriously talented and interested Gap-gay-boy-employees club.
5. No more seeing trans folk get dirty looks or harassment in the dressing rooms of one of the few places in the mall with a truly androgynous look.

The other really awesome thing about Gap right now, is the shop red campaign which supports fighting AIDS in Africa- They had us at 'hello'... then they gave us all kinds of large, glossy PR photos of hot (and often respectable) celebrities wearing the goods.
Inspi(red), Admi(red), Desi(red)

Since we were at Gap several hours before we were informed about the acuity of disease experienced by our vehicular children, we felt free to really spend ourselves silly at the clothing store. We needed to support the economy, didn't we? And some of it was for charity, after all! And let's face it, my ass looks good in a $50 pair of Gap jeans.

Once we broke the spending seal, we moved on toward our goal- Christmas shopping at "Bag Day" in North Hampton. This is a traditional gimmick to spur the local economy: you get a free shopping bag and you are allowed to take 20% off any item in pretty much every store in hero-township. A lot of the businesses do 20% off store-wide, just to make it easier. It was a perfect day to be in No-Ho: Not too wet, not too warm, not too cold. We dropped a couple bills in town and were eating at Teapot when we got the news our cars would both need surgery. I would highly recommend the setting and the food for any event, but for receiving less than positive news, it was ideal!

Book Club

Most of you will not be surprised that katy and I belong to a book club. Our book club is the charming evolutionary subdivision of our softball team (which I wrote about at the beginning of last season.) Softball in the C. Women's League is not necessarily a hearty workout, but it does get your heart pumping- especially when you are afraid of getting injured and/or you get angry at members of another team (in rare instances, members of your own team.) I started playing softball on this team before I could legally drink. It became clear early on that first season that I could jump around and play if i wanted to, i could smack the ball, run the bases, even score some runs, but I was not entirely useful to the team and would not be a full-fledged member until I could fulfill the cooler-caddy requirement without bringing a "10-9" or police investigation down on the team.

That was several years ago, and my growing fear of injury is nothing compared to the women who welcomed my practically pubescent body to the team when they were my age now (at least that's what i gather from the rounds of: "Oh, shut up" that I get every time I mutter that I'm not as young as I used to be.)

Some things have changed: During games, we hear less of "ROBERT! GET YOUR SISTER OUT OF THE PARKING LOT!" And more of, "Well, they broke up last semester, but she still slept over our house with him last night..." There have been a lot of celebrations- marriages, births, promotions, and new homes. And a lot of devastations- divorces, illnesses, and death over the years. We've added some openly gay players. (I came out to the team when katy started coming around to watch, and katy was invited to join when Deb M decided that there was no need to struggle through the game with a plastic cup of wine if she could find a youthful and athletic replacement for her position.)

These are some of the most generous, hilarious, fun-loving, non-judgmental, compassionate folks I will ever know. Nancy, Deb, and Sue's response to my timid assertions of gayness in my mid-twenties truly made it possible to feel like I could come out to my family and my family's friends- at a time when that didn't seem probable. Years later, I was surprised to realize how nervous I still was to invite all of them to our wedding- and then I realized how ridiculous I was to be nervous: Deb M, Barb, Karyn, Sharon, Terry, Erin, Cathy's excitement over our wedding celebration, and the "put-me-in-coach" dance-off they all choreographed at the event are some of our favorite moments when we reminisce. Getting to be one of Jessica's peeps and watching her start a family has been like getting to be an aunt to another adorable little one and has given me the chance to glimpse what all of my team-mates will look like in "grandma mode." (Don't get offended ladies, it's still a while off, but isn' it nice to "play" grandma in your youth?)

Book club began as a way to- well, drink in the off-season... but now i realize these brilliant organizers of life and family were probably orchestrating how we could/would stay a team if (and when) some or all of us ever decided to leave softball. Every year, there are more frequent conversations of "not playing next year" or "maybe there won't even be a league." Every time I hear this talk, I cringe. Not because if that happens, I will feel old and it will be the end of an era, even though it will absolutely be the END OF AN ERA. But because... I'm not sure there is anything as exquisitely satisfying... Any more perfect reminder of the simple pleasures in life- than what I experience a few nights a year: Hanging out at ol' CHS on a warm summer night, drinking miller lite out of a can, possibly BBQing, laughing and enjoying a sunset with these women and our families. Luckily, if the day ever comes when we aren't all playing together... at least we'll have book club!

Thank you for your kinship... and the yummy soup!

Top ten reasons I can't sleep

10) It's too cold.
9) It's too hot.
8) Restless body syndrome.
7) Driving a stick shift while tuning an ipod is not a cardiovascular workout even if you do it 2-3 hrs a day.
6) If you're going to eat 70,000 calories a week, shouldn't some of them be in the form of fruits and vegetables?
5) The 3am (advil) feeding; a.k.a.- This headache is not going to cure itself.
4) Tums. tum-tum-tum, tums- maybe these things have caffeine in them.
3) There must be a rule about only one person getting some shut-eye per bed, per night, right?
2) It's 7am somewhere.

And the number one reason I can't sleep...

Trust me, if I knew the #@%ing answer to this, I wouldn't be here blogging for your entertainment right now.

He calls you what!?

I realize that a good portion of our readers watch ze frank on their own, in which case this post will be redundant. But for those who do not, please please please check out the list of nicknames that our dear president has for friends, family, staff, and dignitaries of foreign countries. The insanity of it is enough to get you an excellent abdominal workout.

Playas play on

Having spent many adolescent summers at Friends Music Camp, I sometimes sing in the car dreaming that I could sing certain songs with a group of musicians from that time. I'll leave the actual names to your imagination, but they include a guitarist (or 3), a pianist, a cellist (or two), and a trumpet player.

We would sit in a circle and just play and sing like we used to before collection.

My first choices are Ghost (Indigo Girls) and Top of the World (Dixie Chicks).

If you're one of the musicians, or just someone who woudl be listening to the songs, feel free to post requests in the comments section.... (or if you're shy you can email them to me and I'll post them anonymously).

Mac is back

oh my osh-kosh...




There's the smile:




What?!? Is it a crime to wash up now?




Halloween duckie- looks a lot like mommy when she was little:




Who's this cat, now?




With Gram'ma Bella to watch G'pa Web at the parade




With Mommy and Daddy

Whew...

"First of all, I'd like to thank God..." is how Rick Santorum began his concession speech.
I couldn't agree more!

I realized last night that election night has somehow become my own personal nightmare- i have PTSD after the 2000, 2002, and especially the 2004 election. I was starting to think that Freepers from deep within the country were in control of the government's destiny. And I was definitely starting to fear that elections in this country would and could be stolen at every opportunity.

It's not that I'm a particularly partisan Democrat. In many ways the worst part of the last few election cycles has been watching the country get carved and spliced up into red and blue states. Everyone knows that the nation is really quite purple. But the minute a political party achieved 51% of the votes, it turned either crimson or cobalt, as if the opinions of the other 49% of the population counted for nothing.

When the 2004 election came about, "the wife" and I were fresh off our blissful wedding and 2- week honeymoon in sunny Cabo. We had recently experienced some of the most loving and joyful moments/hours/days/weeks of our lives. We returned to the states tan, rested, peaceful, full of gratitude, and energized for the next phase(s) of life. I knew it would probably happen, but when 11 states voted that November to amend their constitutions to deny same-sex couples the right to marry, it was surprisingly damaging to my psyche. Amid heavy Democratic losses the media insisted on co-opting the majority party's sound bites, framing the entire electoral contest as a victory for "family values." The post-game wrap up was basically devoted to applauding the successful suppression of gay rights as a triumphant political tactic. There was a lot of "this is the will of the people" talk and a LOT of "God has spoken" talk.

Newscasters and political experts did not question how this story was framed. They allowed the manipulative implication to stand all week unchallenged: If you did not vote against gay marriage, or you did not vote for George W. Bush, than "morals" were not high on your priority list. My wife and i sat stunned in the days after the election watching and listening to our political foes celebrate their "victories." At the beginning of the week, we had slack-jawed expressions. Toward the end of the week, we grew aware of the taste of bile, and snapped our mouths shut. No one said anything about the indecency of these laws: Not one media pundit; not one high-ranking elected official; not one lowly staffer; not one defeated-nothing-to-lose-candidate. We waited in vain for someone to stand up and say the obvious: we had just witnessed the mass legislation of homophobia- plain and simple. When did it become okay to put civil rights of a minority group to a popular vote? When in our history has limiting certain groups' access to government and societal institutions ever turned out to be anything but an embarrassing faux pas of our ancestors? Anxiety and dread subtly spread over our home. Once God's name is used to legislate discrimination, how do you stop an extremist from violently taking the law into his/her own hands?

Over the last several years, I've marveled how proponents of anti-gay constitutional amendments do not explore or encourage forthright debate over the economic, political, or cultural effects that same-sex marriage might have on society. There is little to no research presented, no factual information, no evidence, only opinion and impassioned rhetoric based on myths about the immorality of homosexuals. The arguments against SS marriage are founded primarily on outdated convention, narrow interpretations of religious writings, and the ever elusive "eeeewww, that's disgusting" Yuck factor.

It seems, every election day since Clinton left office, gay men, lesbians, and all who love and support us are thrust center-stage into a political scheme whose participants benefit by saying we are seeking "special rights" and labeling us "immoral." It is dangerous to confuse religion with "morality." It is the rhetoric of Nazi Germany, and the Klu Klux Klan, and Alquadea. Marriage equality is not a homosexual agenda, it is a civil rights battle. No matter how many ministers stand in front of their congregations and rage against this battle, suppressing the rights of a minority of Americans is never moral and has never been successful. It is the same tactic that was used in the 1960's to resist racial integration. The difference of course is that four decades later, black and white churches agree on the targets of their hateful politics.

So called DOMA (Defense of Marriage) legislation is a political wedge designed to turn Americans against each other. The president has said he fights over-seas to "keep the terrorists from fighting us here at home." In the same vein, his party and religious supporters have kept gay marriage at the forefront of conversations so they would not have to discuss the real problems our citizens face. How can SS marriage be more of a threat to the "traditional family" than war, poverty, loss of jobs, low wages, and a lack of affordable healthcare? The truth is, most Americans whether gay or straight, "red state," or "blue state" have more in common with each other than with any politician or media pundit. The experts know though, the easiest way to win is to divide and conqueer.

It is still difficult for me to understand all of the irrational fear and hatred towards GLBT folks. But 2 years ago, I got a real taste of what it means to fear and hate people that I have never met- merely because I could not understand them or relate to them. Election day 2004- it felt as if a pack of voters in 11 previously far away states appeared as an angry mob outside our door. Katy and I are two among the millions of gay Americans who are caring, productive members of society. We go to work, pay our taxes, support the economy, and try to be good neighbors. We hope and dream. We celebrate and mourn. Many of us believe in and pray to that same God whose wrath has been hijacked for a political party's divisive agenda. It was (and sometimes still is) surprisingly easy to give in to hate and fear. I have to stop myself from automatically rejecting what i cannot understand. I do not understand how a group in the majority feels so comfortable creating a category of second-class family. I do not understand my fellow citizens who continue to vote (in hysterical concern of their own family's safety and security) to deny my family's existence. I do not understand our leaders who strategize incessantly not to bring us together, but how to pit us against each other: How to reduce each group of people, each district to the most convenient label, the most practiced sound-bite in order to win votes. Surely these are not the "traditional" values we hold sacred.

This year, things were a little different for me. Even though seven more states enacted constitutional bans on SS marriage this week, one- Arizona- rejected the proposal... Also, a lot of the people I voted for got elected. And Holy-Crap-on-High- the dems took over not only the House, but also the Senate... For the first time since George 43 took office, he's acting interested in non-partisan governing... hmmm, how 'bout that?!?

There is no denying that a majority of Americans still do not feel ready to accept the changing definition of marriage. The same way a majority of Americans were not ready to accept the changes made when women were allowed to retain property rights within marriage, and when interracial couples received state recognition of their unions. But the fact is that gays and lesbians are getting married. SS couples do not use that word to incite our political opponents or to cloud the legality of our relationships. It is frequently the most simple, direct way to communicate the state of our couplehood and our intentions. Being married means intending to be responsible to and for each other. Intending to love each other through various stages of health, wealth, passion, and attraction. Intending to grow old struggling, laughing, and taking care of each other. Intending to foster personal growth and stay healthy, active members of our communities and society. When federal and state constitutions are altered to specifically keep us out- to keep us from living up to these noble intentions, it is an act of hatred and vandalism.

Whew... that was a long rant considering how psyched I am about the outcome of the midterms!

Nice post!

A great post from our friend Adam can (and should) be read here.

I voted today!

What the F?! Our local voting locale did not have the I voted stickers! It is truly a shame. They didn't have them for the primary either and that was sort of understandable. But we're voting to change the world here! Everyone should know I voted (and be inspired to do the same)!

I'm fairly certain there are going to be reports of voting problems, especially with so many places now going computerized. And don't get me wrong, I'm as pissed off as the next person about people not getting their vote counted. But, even with all the problems, we went to vote this morning and no one shot at us. They didn't even give us the hairy eye-ball. We were free to be jolly with the Ned Lamont supporter and vote without fear of retribution. It's a special thing to be able to do that.

But I really would have liked an I voted sticker.

A letter to the Senator from CT

Dear Senator Lieberman,

Here's the thing: you lost the primary. You tell us all the time that you're a "life-long Democrat". Except that all of us Democrats here in Connecticut voted. And the majority of us didn't vote for you. You told us that you wouldn't run as an independent. But here you are, spitting in the face of the system that got you elected in the first place. The group that you publicly aligned yourself with (the Democrats) asked you politely but firmly to step aside and let us try something new. Why wouldn't you listen?

I mean, here we are, on the eve of the election, and you're ahead in the polls. That's great for you, and at first glance, it might even seem like it was a good idea for you to run because you are fighting for what you believe in. Except that the reason you're winning is because nearly all of the other party is voting for you. It seems like a vulgar misinterpretation of "bi-partisan" to deliberately court the Republican vote.

We have two parties (well, two and change) for a reason. It's because it's really hard to find a consensus when you have more than 2 or 3 candidates. It's hard enough to understand all the issues with just two major parties - imagine if there were 5 or 6 or 10 and they were all very similar except a few little differences. We would never be able to get anything done. So, a lot of us vote with "our party" in order to gain strength in numbers. When I vote for a Democrat, I'm often doing so to get a few things I want and I'm forced to give up some other things. There is no candidate out there for any office that stands for everything I want them to stand for. That's part of living in a democracy. It's not perfect. But what I believe in is no more "right" than what my neighbors believe in.

So, you running as an Independent kind of sucks. The party you said you were most in agreement with said we didn't agree with you, and for that disagreement we're going to lose our power in numbers. It's kind of cool that you're going to get elected by a mix of Democrats and Republicans. But it's like asking your parents for a piece of candy, being told no, then taking it anyway with the help of your bully friend down the street. They said no, Joe.

I know you have lots of experience, but sometimes experience isn't what we need. I'm not sure that Ned Lamont will get done what he says he'll get done. For all I know he'll get to Washington and act crazy. But maybe crazy is what we need. If there is one thing that's clear in all of this it's that something has to change. Even the President is starting to say it publicly. You weren't willing to change until we didn't elect you. We need an agitator to help us see the possibilities.

I myself will be voting for Ned Lamont. He's not perfect and he doesn't have a lot of experience. But he brings a fresh set of eyes and ears to the job. And he won the primary, fair and square. I want to keep strength in numbers.

Good luck tomorrow. May the best man win.

Sincerely,

KWT

Be all you can be

I'm not a huge fan of the Iraq war. I'm not a huge fan of any war. But I do believe that the military should exist. One of the reasons I believe that is because I think the military has and can do a lot of good, community-service type activities. The particular activity shown here (picking up the droppings of horses participating in an early Veteran's Day parade) had never really occurred to me, but... thanks!

Sick on Halloween

This is the pumpkin Tracy carved as the sun was going down on Halloween. It was a huge hit with our adolescent boy trick or treaters. 

Happy Halloweenie!

XX XX

Big news last week as ultrasound results came in from all over...

Did you know that boy sperm swim faster than girl sperm, but die sooner. Girl sperm on the other hand tend swim slower and live longer. If sperm are introduced into the egg's environment at the time of ovulation, the odds are better that the boys will arrive on the scene first and fertilize the egg. If sperm are introduced into the womb a little before ovulation, the chance is greater that the little soldiers will have exhausted themselves before the egg even shows, and the chicks will arrive at the egg when most of the dudes are dead or dying. I imagine a sea of X-chromosomes in lip gloss and Clara Barton hats making their way through a microscopic Antietam of Y-chromosome carcasses.

Of course, sometimes the egg resists the charms of the Y-guys and only wants to join with an X-babe, and some of those X's are pretty butchy and keep up with the Y's... and some of those Y's live as long as the X's... You get the point, but science tells us then that if you are "trying" to have a baby, that is- timing ovulation to match intercourse and/or insemination, the little dudes have a better chance at prevailing...

So that's how things stood as we waited for news from L & A and F & L. Both couples have been trying for a long time now. We found out that they were pregnant almost immediately after conception and we all quietly held our breath, waiting for the first trimesters to go by. They got pregnant the same weekend, and had their gender-identifying ultrasound appointments at the exact same time, on the same day in prenatal offices about 100 miles apart. Their due dates are within a week of each other (at the same time of Mackenzie's and Ben's births last year.)

It's hard to anticipate or describe the mixture of joy and worry and love that washes over you as you witness your closest friends melt into the next phase: Parenthood. There are very real physical dangers associated with pregnancy, and psychological burdens that are palpable to us, but beyond our real comprehension. There's also a whiff of jealousy and concern that they are going to a place that time, life, and circumstances won't allow us to share. We wouldn't want it any other way, but if these people have been our chosen family, what can we be to them when they create a family of their own?

Then came the news... Girls! In both cases! We would have released joyful yelps in either case, of course. But somehow, the news of girls: odd-defying, strong-swimming girls made us giggle with knowing smirks. I mean, girls- that's awesome!

XX XX
:)

Bless the little children

Uncle Bob to Ben:

"Some day little Benji, you might be eating a bucket of chicken, and you might think you see a UFO, just like your uncle Bob..."

This post serves to remind the readers that every interaction you have with me (or in front of me) is fair play/fair game. I don't have you sign "release forms" when you say something truly ridiculous or seemingly insane in my presence. Especially, if you say it in front of a small, defenseless, still-mentally-forming child. I will not play the congressional leadership to your Mark Foley.* I believe in exposing the special brand of crazy that i observe in the world (and in the peeps around me.) This post also serves to remind the writer to make fun of other people less... or at least other peoples' friends... know what I mean?!?
t: "Hey, that chick has the craziest friends..."
observer: "Hello Monsieur Kettle, C'est moi- the POT- and you are black!"

*The Gin-Soaked Olive is in no way mocking the seriousness of the allegations against MF, or implying that "Uncle Bob" is in anyway associated with MF, the congressional leadership, or the possibility of dating Baby Benji online. Okay, okay, I guess there is some degree of mocking MF, pedophilial-asshole... And also throwing metaphoric daggers at the leaders of the federal congress who might have known about the inexcusable activities of this congressman, but not stopped them sooner. The Gin-Soaked Olive believes there is a karmic reason that Mark Foley's initials are MF, but you'll notice that Uncle Bob's initials are UB. Just because someone is a "UFO Believer" does not mean they deserve to be even vaguely associated with a "Mother effer." We here at the GSO believe that "Uncle Bob" is a cutie-pie, and we resent the implication that he is a CRAZY conspiracy-theorist. We know he would rather exercise naked in Time's Square than be compared to any type of politician- especially a gay politician who chases young boys... **

**We here at the GSO fear we've said too much.

Philly

I'm in Philly for a Nursing Management conference. Right now, to be more specific, I'm at The Last Drop described by here: Funky decor, friendly employees and first-rate cappuccinos make this a required stop. It's not like I did a wide internet review and put this on my "must see" list... I was set up nicely by Carly who lugged her laptop around all day to hand off to me; and who rigorously researched the location of this free wi-fi spot. The confrence is going well. It is interesting, well-organized and a little invigorating. This seems strange to me, but I am particularly enjoying the fact that I don't know a single other person attending the "Congress". There are supposedly 1200 people signed up for this seminar, and I'm convinced that at every next turn I'll run into someone I know- the world of nursing is rediculously small- but it's kind of cool just to be quiet and pensive and experiencing this professional time without any chit chat, idle banter, running commentary, and/or requirement for social engagement with others. That might sound a little anti-social but, oh well. I've had lovely chats with some of the folks I've run into at the sessions, but I've also spend hours at a time without talking to anyone at all... and that feels remarkably refreshing. A lot life requires me to or encourages me to "communticate" effectively and to the extreme. And maybe, it's just too much yammering for my own good. :)

The best part of Philly by far is getting the chance to spend some time with Tara and her peeps. Last night, I met Carly, Sam, and Monika who (apparently) are faithful Gin-Soaked Olive readers. It gives me (as a wanna-be-writer) a tiny smile to realize that people who've never met us "tune in" to see what we might have to say. (okay, a big grin!)

Real life is better than fiction

1. adjective

2. noun (plural)

3. names of a couple

4. names of a couple

5. type of liquor

6. names of a couple

7. adjective

8. type of a liquor

9. a vegetable

10. food item

11. food item

12. activity

13. noun

14. verb

15. verb

16. noun

17. activity

18. verb

19. noun

20. nickname

21. card game

22. adjective

23. noun

Saturday night, Katy and I had an interesting(1) dinner with a wonderful group of gays(2). Ivette and Rene(3) brought Jaime and Dan(4) and a bottle of vodka(5). Tricia and Tonja(6) brought fancy(7) eggplant dip and red wine(8).

We started with pumkin(9) soup and ate grilled salmon(10) and chicken(11). Later, during an after-dinner smoke(12), Tonja did the Mill-rate(13) dance and Katy hyperventilated(14) until she fell to the ground.

After dancing, we played games. Jaime flicked(15) the wood(16) until it came loose. Eventually, Ivette had to do a shot(17) and suck(18) the Jenga(19). Paw-paw(20) taught the group slap(21). But he was too drunk(22) to win.

A designated(22) driver(23) was had by all!

525,600 moments so dear...

'Deal or No Deal'... WTF.

Seriously, that's 37 minutes of my life I will never get back. Don't ask me how I tore myself away before finding out what deal the buxom yet wholesome, southern blonde negotiated for herself, but i assure you it was not easy.

How did this shit become prime time TV? And more importantly, why am I watching?

Truth: I am the worst kind of couch potato/ television-enthusiast because, I think I am above it all... I think I'm so intellectual and "well-read," but when it comes right down to it: after a long day of battling the elements, toiling the toils, and speeding down the interstate,

I just can't help myself...

The clothes are so bizarre, and the hair is so big, and the accents so um... diverse (?)... The cases containing nothing but placards denoting monetary prizes are so... silver and "official looking" and the chance to win so, so... faint... and completely disassociated with any talent, or logic... It boggles the mind... it couldn't be more entertaining if there were several dozen clowns trying to load a "partridge family" of midgets into a toy car.

And 37 minutes later I find myself screaming to Howie Mandel,

"NO DEAL!!!"

I blink. Wipe the spittle from my face. Look around at the crusted over remnants of tonight's dinner- dishes abandoned on the coffee table... and i tip my hat to the gods of mediocrity as I'm suddenly inspired to transfer the 3 day pile-up of socks that has accumulated to the hamper and wash the dishes.

Speaking of sitting on your ass and winning millions, (well really billions...) Did you know that Google bought Youtube for 1.65 BILLION dollars?!? The site was introduced on the internet in February 2005. Lord knows how much time and energy went into creating and tweaking the program/technology, but this inconceivable amount of money will be pretty much shared by three geeks who played their own real, live version of Deal or No Deal! Well done, gentlemen... Well done.

By the bi-

Yesterday was national coming out day. Happy (belated) free to be you (and me) day!
Peace.

Vegas baby!

Enjoy the photographic evidence of our trip to Vegas by clicking on the hotel.

Viva Las Va-cay

Well, we're back from sin city and the trip was fine. Not fine like, "just so-so", but fine as in Sweet, yummy, flashy, and much of what we were hoping for. We stayed here. The room looked exactly like this, except with two beds... We saw the well-intentioned front-desk staff typing furiously when she realized we were 2 women with the same last name. (Hey lady, she's not my sister...) We didn't say anything b/c "king" or "queen" doesn't really matter to us, and hey, it's nice to have an extra bed in case you meet some homeless folk whose company you enjoy.

The first night we ate here and Kt swears she saw Robin Leach. All I saw was an old, fat guy with a bimbo on his arm, but after seeing this, I'm inclined to agree it was him. His date was so skinny I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have even seen her if she hadn't been wearing a dress with broad HORIZONTAL stripes. We also got to see the Bodies exhibit (Amazing, but a little unsettling), the Titanic exhibit (more entertaining than we expected), An Ansel Adams exhibit (more exciting for katy than for me), and Lewis Black (more exciting for me than for katy.)

A highlight for sure was catching up with 'Gret after seeing her show. She happened to be playing Tina the night we were at the wedding and it was brilliant and fun. I don't think i could ever tire of seeing little 'Gret Menzies playing the part of a trashy bride flippin' both frickin birds in her "Wedding" photos. (We'll see if we can get her to pull that off just once next October!)

Wedding anniversary

So this is what a happy couple looks like...

On September 18, 2004 Britney and Kevin finally said, "I do."

Since then, they have created 2 children and become a national symbol for proponents of gay marriage... I mean, if these people can legally marry and procreate(?) even as they publicly endanger their children (quite possibly ALL children) and the very INSTITUTION OF MARRIAGE... Shouldn't we all get a shot at the federal benefits of marriage?!?

Even more than "the gays," Britney and Kevin make everything so confusing... It's got to make even the most devout political-bible-banger throw back a wide gulp of Wild Turkey before he can hold a straight face throughout his "sanctity of marriage" speech...
You know what I mean?

Happy wedding day, Boo. i love you!

Please poke this chopstick through my eye

Kt and I went out for some yum yum and chow fun tonight. Her fortune cookie was intact, but the tiny slip of paper inside was 95% torn. We wondered bemused about the symbolism of a practically shredded forturne while I dismantled my cookie. After I read this:

I smiled, knowing that she would agree my fortune sucked more than hers- For the next round of Chinese fortune-cookie demotivators, will a small weapon be included right inside the dessert for self mutilation purposes?!?

Boozin' Babies

These children are NOT wards of the state!
Seriously cute kids, huh? They have some powerfully attractive genes.
Mac seems a little startled trying to handle her first root beer. But it looks like her older cousin, Mason can help her learn to hold her lemonade! 

Look ma, I'm famous

Apparently, snappy answers are not what certain orlops are looking for... Dave has put me on his list for commenting on his gnocchi post.

I'll take that as a compliment!

I've heard this many many many times: "I know you from somewhere....", followed by a consternating look for a few minutes. Then the person usually yells out "Nancy Kerrigan!", or "Nurse Hathaway!", or "that girl from Much Ado About Nothing!" as if they had just found the solution to world peace and were yelling "Eureka!".

This week at work I got a new version of "Eureka!" and I liked it far better than any of the others. One of my dear sweet geriatric patients said to me (as I was attempting to determine the extent of the cellulitis on his leg), "You know, ever since you came in that first day I was here, I've been trying to figure out who you look like.... And I finally figured it out." Oh god, I thought, who am I today? "SUE BIRD!", he yelled, as I looked up and realized that his T-shirt was from the Connecticut Sun. (The elderly in this state are truly fanatic women's basketball fans)

I think it had more to do with my curly ponytail than actual looks, and I'm pretty sure my patient is unaware of my Sue Bird-esque basketball skills*, but I think I'll take it as my favorite comparison to date. I mean, I have always wanted to be Sue Bird!


*When I say I have "Sue Bird-esque basketball skills", what I mean is, I could probably keep up with her while running down the court. If I didn't have the ball. And neither did she. I guess what I really mean is that when I'm playing basketball I like to pretend that I could be Sue Bird. If Sue Bird were in high school still. Ok, junior high. Or maybe even 4th grade.

Back & Black & Blog

So much time has passed that I feel I have to expend some energy integrating back into the blog. A little blog foreplay... some wine and candle-light so the gin-soaked olive knows that I'm not just a user- landing here for a few minutes of instant gratification after weeks away...

Despite some truly lovely vacation time and visits from family and friends, life has been hectic and irksome. I've been swamped at work (which is kind of good as I like to be challenged) but the headaches -literally, not figuratively- have been brutal. When i was younger, my stress would always be in my gut: nausea, stomach pain, etc. But now, for some reason it has moved all into my head. I can be in the middle of a frustrating conversation and I will get searing pain through my skull. This does a few things to/for me: 1) It officially connects my headaches to mood, aggravation, and stress and therefore eliminates (or decreases) the time i spend thinking, "Maybe i ate something funny, maybe I'm dehydrated, maybe it's allergies," etc. 2) Makes me feel a little pathetic- GET OUT OF YOUR HEAD, M#THER-F#CKER!!! Life is too short!!! G*D-D#MN!!!#%&! Get a grip!!! ***This type of self-disapproval and reproach does little to improve the painful symptoms, by the way... 3) Makes me contemplate the word "Aneurysm" more than i ever did before. The thought "ANEURYSM" blazing in my brain is usually followed by the image of Red Foxx clutching his chest every day and shouting, "This is the big one, Elizabeth, I'm coming to join you." Luckily, the sitcom is part of my lexicon only as reinforcement that no one likes an overly dramatic complainer, i try to keep my concerns related to an ANEURYSM unspoken... Don't want the wife to hurt herself rolling her eyes at me every day. Yesterday, we were watching Gray's Anatomy with the fam and one of the lines of the interns was: "Why do I keep hitting myself in the head with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop." Web was like, "huh?" Kt and I looked at eachother and said, "hmmm... interesting point...i don'tknowwhowouldbehavelikethat, that'ssocrazy ....hmmm"

Gotta chill out.

Which in some ways means, gotta get back to the silly journaling associated with the blog.

To those of you who have let me know you miss my posts, especially those of you on the west coast... thanks for the encouragement, i love you more than you know!

And to the rest of you, there's some great stuff to follow: Vacation recap(s), photos of children who appear to be drinking beer, other random rambings, political rants, and unsolicited opinions... Don't worry, Mike, I've got some great new pics of Mac'adoodle... groan if you want- i know you can't look away :)

And a good time was had by all...

This is what it looks like after the "Orlops" get together. (don't ask about the name - it only proves what kind of dorks we are) We had a great weekend with our dear friends - two of my friends from Smith and their husbands. It's now an annual get-together made easier by our friends at Southwest Airlines.

KFH: you're awesome. You never cease to amaze me, from being a great NICU NP to running a half marathon, you are a kick-ass woman!

AH: thanks for all the help in the kitchen and with the computer this weekend, couldn't have done it without you!

MRL: I'm so impressed with all you know just from one year of nursing school - I think you are going to be a great RN and NP. Thanks, too, for the leadership to get us into the bathrooms at the Smith Art Museum sans entry fee.

DL: Our relationship with sTiVo is in a whole new era thanks to you. I do love google and all the programs it provides us, however, I have to say they would mean nothing to me without you!

Can't wait for the next meeting, hopefully the third time will be the charm with no snow, and no Ernesto. MRL and DL are up next! 

Credit

I love credit card commercials.

I don't love them in the way that I love cotton commercials, or nike commercials (you know, the ones that promote girls in sport, or the virtue of kids sports, or just shoes with sappy music). Those make me tear up pretty much everytime.

Credit card commercials on the other hand are just entertaining. Whoever came up with the mastercard masterpiece should be living a life on a beach with hot men and women with impeccable tans bringing them drinks every half hour, massages every day, etc. I'm almost as impressed with American Express "this is my card" campaign. First they included a gay woman in their ranks (Ellen), then they came up with the Andy Roddick vs. Pong commercial. Since Pong is the hallmark game of an entire generation, I can only sit back, shake my head, and mutter, "Genius".

(as a side note, you know that commercial encouraging people to use debit cards instead of checks? the one where the person has to wait for hours because their writing a check instead of using debit? nearly that exact thing happened to me in the post office the other day - first the woman needed help understanding that her mail wasn't at this p.o., it was at the OTHER one, then she wanted to look at her options for stamps (blankets or vegetables???), then she wanted to know how much delivery confirmation was, and then... she pulled out her check book. *sigh* being able to meditate in public is an important skill.)

The good ol' days

I visited my old haunts this morning - specifically the School of Nursing - to get acquainted with my new classroom. I'm going to be teaching a class this fall at Tracy and I's alma mater (do you still call it that when it's grad school?) and it was more than a little weird to walk the halls 4 years after graduation. It still smells the same, and it still gives me the identical barely perceptiple nausea associated with being enrolled in a school with people far smarter than you.

Moreover, I got relive the city driving that is New Haven. New Haven thinks it's New York. It's not, but the drivers still pretend that it is. It was kind of fun to pass all the old drinking holes, restaurants, etc that I never get to see anymore, all while attempting to get my car out of there without any scratches.

Ah, grad school. *sigh* those were the days....

The white coats are coming!

There is a time-honored ritual during which new medical students receive their first white coat. My brother got his this week. I'm simaltaneously exceedingly proud, and exceedingly hopeful his career will lead him to a place where he won't need a white coat to be a doctor.

You are amazing JZ! (not to be confused with JC, whom he resembled at one point in his young life)

humming along

As some of you may remember, I spent a post earlier this summer encouraging everyone to hang a hummingbird feeder immediately. I had done so, and couldn't wait to spend hours watching the hummingbirds in their infinite beauty. I didn't get any humming birds all summer.

Until Friday, when I looked outside and simaltaneously noticed that the water level was down in the feeder, and there was a hummingbird!! It's hard to express the sheer joy that I experienced when I saw it there on the feeder. Presumably now the webster hill hummingbird posse knows where there's free food and many more will come!

Pearl

I guess it's better to turn 29 than 30, or at least how it seems from the 29 side. My mom and Anna very generously got me a piano for my birthday. And she is simply beautiful.

I've nicknamed her Pearl. (The name is totally unoriginal - the manufacturer is Pearl River)

Part meditation-assistant, part computer game stand-in, part musical addiction, I am so excited to have a piano! Needless to say I haven't played in a long time and lessons will be needed to achieve previously attained skill.

First up: Moonlight Sonata, my favorite piece of all time.

Wimpy, disloyal, whiny, punk-a$$

Sometimes when I hear Joe Lieberman talk, all I can picture is a kid with asthma on the grammar school playground. He goes out to recess everyday but doesn’t play with his classmates because he is afraid he might have an attack. Instead of going out to the see-saw, or reading quietly up against the brick building, he wants to sit and ponder his Highlights Magazine right near the kickball field. Then he cries and whines to the “authorities” every time a kickball is in play because, “They are kicking and throwing it too close to me!!!”

The teachers monitoring recess spend 12-20 minutes every day cajoling and bribing him to “Come read near me,” to try and get Joe out of the way. Sometimes he pitches a fit and refuses to leave his reading perch on the first base line. Other times he finally agrees to come away when one of the staff produces a peanut-free granola treat. He has no diagnosed allergy to nuts, but it doesn’t stop him from barking at the authorities, “ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!?” when their first offer is a fun-size package of Peanut M&Ms.

There are several shaded areas on the school side of the playground and Joe approaches the only occupied one, where an epileptic kid in Coke-bottle thick glasses is quietly playing with 12-sided dice. “This is my spot,” Joe is overheard whimpering, “I like to sit here when I am not over there.” He points to the kickball field. The recess monitors are about to intervene on behalf of the skinny kid that the other kids call, Spaz. But before they have the chance, to stop Joe’s bullying, the other boy rolls his eyes, grabs his dice, and heads for a quieter space.

Once he’s settled into his protected spot near the building, Joe removes a clean tissue from the Ziploc in his right pocket, dries his tears, and blows his nose with an air of indignant self-righteousness. The bell rings, and as kids crowd around the door attempting to get back to class, Joe stalls the line because he is in the middle of stashing his used snot rag in the ½ full Ziploc out of his left pocket labeled “dirty tissues.” Joe won’t move out of the way, won’t hold a soiled tissue in his bare hand, and he can’t walk and zip simultaneously. As he gets nervous, the bag-sealing process is further delayed. He blames the trouble he is having on the fact that there are “too many people- too close” to him and “They are not paying attention to what they are doing!” Finally, when a little girl in dreads reaches over in empathy and quickly seals the bag, Joe- lacking any gratitude or humility- loudly proclaims, “I could have done that all by myself!”

End of an Era...

Holy Cow...
Now I can go to bed...

Could the pendulum be swinging?

This is pretty remarkable... the Democratic Senate primary race in Connecticut has been (surprisingly) hotly contested and (recently) highly touted as the earliest indicator of how far from the status quo SNAFU that the voters of our great nation are leaning/fleeing.

It looks (dare I say it) that Ned Lamont might actually be about to pull this off... With 83% of votes reported, Lamont leads the incumbent 52% to 48%. I have to admit, that I was undecided in this race until last evening. I am not a Democratic party loyalist... I have several complaints about "politics as usual" within and among the DNC. But last night, I decided that I wanted to be sure above all else that i cast a vote FOR someone and not AGAINST someone. So I picked up the phone when a representative from Lamont's headquarters called and started asking questions... NL is against the sacrifice of civil liberties in the name of the war on terror. He believes that health care is a right not a privilege. He is committed to education:

What our country spends in one year in Iraq could provide a year's free tuition at the University of Connecticut for every college freshman-aged American and Head Start for every four-year-old. We need to refocus our resources and our attention on the children and young people here.

Lamont is for full marriage equality:

I am proud that Connecticut was one of the first states to legalize civil unions and remain hopeful that we will be one of the first to enact full marriage equality. Unlike Senator Lieberman, I would have opposed the Federal Defense of Marriage Act.

And perhaps most importantly, Lamont opposes allowing George Bush to continue to go unchecked in waging a war started under false pretenses. This war has not made us safer and done little to positively impact anyone except for the few Americans who have significant financial stakes in the low or no-bid contracts offered by the current executive branch of the US government.

I thought i was undecided, until I started to consider Joe Lieberman. Joe has 1) left my people high and dry and 2) snuggled up nice and close to King George whenever the Snickerer in Chief needed to point across the aisle and say, "We all stand together."

But seriously, in my final evaluation of the situation, I realized that the deal-breaker for me was the emotional blackmail offered up by the Big Man on Campus. Back in July, the man who ran as the Democratic candidate for Vice President of the United States a mere 6 years ago announced he would NOT honor the collective voice of the democratic voters of CT. If he lost the primary, he would run as an independent... Because I guess Joe Loserman feels that it is not the Democratic party or voters that he owes anything to... It must be his winning personality that has kept him in the Senate since I was a high school softball star!

Lieberman is so committed (to HIMSELF) that at the first opportunity, he will become an independent and leave open the chance for the party that created him to lose the seat entirely. Rather than wait to see the outcome of the primary, Lieberman started crying foul the minute it looked like someone might have a shot at his job. Upon (potentially) losing, he could have conceded that he made mistakes, that he played this last set poorly, and then regroup for the next challenge. Instead, his first instinct was to make a play to split the party to save his own A$$. Why allow the Dems of CT to make the call of who represents them just because it happens to be the very purpose of a primary??? I really am all for a multi-party system, but this guy is a piece of work...

May the best man win!!!

I never cared much for Sponge Bob...

Until I saw this...





Ring-ring, Ring-ring...





Heel-o *



I'd like to make a toe-call...



Wrong number:


Who's this dude, now?





We've been set up... on a baby date (YUCK!)

Presidential Humor

I have to say, I'm pretty depressed about the state of things in the US and internationally. Making fun of the president is not something that I think is helpful, and it is just kind of sad that there are so many clips that make this guy seems so dangerous and unintelligent. That having been said, I stumbled upon this and laughed for about 10 minutes.

I love YouTube.

"Time Bandits"

I'm sure many friends and family members are tired of hearing me start a sentence with "I read this article in the New Yorker..." or "I heard this really interesting piece on NPR..." but I really did just read a very interesting article in the New Yorker. Granted, it was published in February 2005 and I just got around to reading it, but.... I digress.

I'm always interested in physics even though I can't understand it. I had the most perfect notes in physics class in college, but I could not pass the exams to save my life. This article, called "Time Bandits" by Jim Holt, was mostly about the relationship that Einstein had with Gödel (who proved two incompleteness theorems, neither of which I can comprehend). But the real genius of the article is that it simplifies what Einstein did when he came up with the theory of relativity (E=mc2 was nearly an afterthought of 3 other papers published in the months before September 1905).

He decided that absolute time didn't exist:

"Einstein, however, realized that our idea of time is something we abstract from out experience with rhythmic phenomena: heartbeats, planetary rotations, the ticking of clocks. Time judgments always come down to judgments of simultaneity... Working from his two basic principles, Einstein proved that whether an observer deems two events to be happening 'at the same time' depends on his state of motion. In other words, there is no universal now."

Sometimes I think I forget that there isn't a universal now.
Everything really is relative. And to try to live as if there is absolute
time is just begging for more hardship than is really necessary for one
person.

As a side bar, this is the part of the article that reminds me why I couldn't handle philosophy or mathematics:

"But Gödel's self-referential formula comments on its provability, not on its
truthfulness. Could it by lying? No, because if it were, that would
mean it could be proved, which would make it true. So, in asserting that
it cannot be proved, it has to be telling the truth."

Wait, what? What time is it? Right, it's absolutely past my bedtime....

What can Brown do for you?

Today, as I left work (my gym bag packed for the cardio workout my body has been craving) I noticed the ominous sky and decided to race home to mow the lawn instead. Thursday night should (if at all possible) be “lawn-mowing night.” This is a way to ensure you can look out onto your well-manicured property on Saturday and Sunday and sigh in proud, satisfied relief that you do not have to spend 2 hours on the weekend sweating the grass down to a height the neighbors won’t scoff at.

I almost always mow my lawn in my dad’s old “UPS- Buster Brown Doubles” shirt. I have cut the sleeves off and widened the neck and I’m not going to lie to you, I look good in it… When I do yard work in this t-shirt while wearing my practically threadbare, men’s, cargo shorts…it’s hot! I look like the main attraction on Commercial Street. It’s enough to make the 11-year old tom-boy that lives 4 houses away fall off her skateboard and stand there staring while her skinned knee bleeds (for a few too many minutes) before she grows sheepish and sprints away… But I digress-

I wear the shirt (not to stir up the ladies in the neighborhood but) mostly because it is comfortable. Also I’ve realized, I wear it to share some sort of communion with my dad. So many nights, that guy was out there mowing the lawn as it grew dark and even guided by a flood light in the pitch blackness of a summer night. I don’t know what he used to think about when he was out there alone, but I imagine that I probably run through the same rotation of unexpressed thoughts: Random to-do lists, concerns about home ownership, and many things related to the desire to provide for and ensure the stability and/or future of my family. Yard work can be contemplative meditation if the mower is mechanically sound, if the beads of sweat aren’t stinging your eyes, and the mosquitoes are leaving you alone…

In our family, we mock the slogan, “What can brown do for you?” We utter it in a kind of sarcastic, ironic way that former Enron employees must reserve for the “Ask Why,” motto. (Yes! That really was Enron’s company slogan.) The truth of course is that “Brown” has done a lot for us- beautiful homes, solid educations… A lot of amazing food (and drink) has been purchased, shared, and consumed over the years. But for all that was earned, there were some things taken too. Dad sacrificed a lot of time and sweat, blood and cartilage (in his knees and hands and wrists) over the years. Less easy to lament: the houses he might have built, the degrees he might have earned, the patients he might have cared for, the students he might have taught. The union wages and benefits were too steady and too immediate to compare or trade for construction work or continued education. I never heard the dude complain- not even once… I mean he led a dissertation-worthy lecture series every other night of the week railing against big business; and he told countless stories that taught us how to stand toe-to-toe with supervisors that might be taking unfair advantage… but I never heard him complain about his “lot in life” or his un-realized dreams. It was pretty much implied if not explicitly stated that we- three ladies in his life- were his dream. He didn’t drink himself silly or spend much time yapping about whether or not his job was satisfying…

Tonight, as has happened several times since I moved into this home, it grew dark as I finished the lawn. I tried to push the Lawnboy a little faster, and I enjoyed the breeze while spending some time with my dad… Big B and I are so much alike: Both sensitive souls who can also play the role of "life of the party" if it is required. Both trying to be more organized, more efficient, more productive… but we can’t help but get completely sidetracked or distracted (for hours or days.) We might be waylaid by a conversation with friends or even strangers; or happen upon a book or magazine to read. Fixing something might turn into a marathon garage-cleaning mission (that we’re likely to abandon halfway though); or we might just be staring out the window, contemplating the rain, snuggling a baby, or playing our new favorite song over and over (and over) again. Both of us lean a little towards melancholy when everyone is gone except those who really know us. Both of us rarely talk of the deaths we have witnessed, and the grief we carry, but we try hard to live better because we are grateful even for that, sad part of life.

I am the spitting image of my father; a real chip off the old block. I have practically all his mannerisms- the shrug, wink, nod, eyebrow raise… the tight jaw and the stubborn, “It’s not me, it’s YOU,” expression when I get frustrated (or accused of acting surly by the people who really know me.) I’ve learned from him things that he learned from his father: How to be truthful and straightforward; how to be brave and do what you know is right, even when it’s hard or not popular; how to be generous; how to feel good about an honest day’s work… I’ve learned things from my dad that his father could never have taught either one of us: How to be sensitive; how to be sincere; how to be strong-hearted and not just strong-headed; how to use humor to put people at ease and not to make them uncomfortable; how to give great hugs.

I rarely think of myself as “Daddy’s little girl.” Over the years, and presently, I have been “Daddy’s little side kick,” “Daddy’s little, can I barrow your truck/chainsaw/ladder this weekend…” “Daddy’s little sparring partner.” (Sometimes, it’s hard to be so much like someone and not feel as if he is trying earn some unnecessary redemption by cleaning up MY act…)

One time, a while back- when we didn’t seem to be getting along, and I worried we might not ever get along that well again, my dad sat down next to me and said, “You know, if I was a girl, I think I’d like girls too...” (eyebrow raise… shrug… wink) And I was reminded that there’s not much of anything in this world that makes as much sense to me as he does…

My poor Pa never got a “father’s day shout out” like Nance did on Ma’s day- I just wasn’t feeling it then… But tonight, I couldn’t wait to wash the sweat and grass off myself to come write him a love note. I love you, Daddio! Thank you for everything.

Summer in full swing

Last night, we turned our central air off after a week of having it on non-stop. The northeastern heat-wave seems to have been broken. Blogging has been kept to a minimum- not intentionally, but because we've been hot and lazy and also too busy for this kind of weather/season.

Some updates:
1) Softball is almost over- the last games will be this week and next week. This is a little sad, but getting home before 9 pm 2 nights a week will be a welcome change.

2) The refrigerator- Installed, humming and keeping all goods chill.

3) Kt's car- Brand new brakes and rotors -good to know what these are... (Game show voice: Tell them what they've won: $700 in un-anticipated expenses) Knowing that she can stop on a dime... priceless!

4) Our yard and the house... Except for the mass slaughter of beetles, and the weekly (okay- every OTHER week) mowing of the lawn, we have not been doing any projects or additional chores around the house. There is still wood to be chopped and stacked. There are piles of refuse (bagged, unbagged, and some that was bagged but is starting to unbag itself due to long term exporsure to the elements) to be hauled off. There is a HUGE stump that needs to be ground up (or ground down, depending how you look at it.) There is mildew that needs to be washed off of the siding of North-West face of the house. The garage and attic need to be cleaned out... oh, who am i kidding, the place needs to be vaccuumed and dusted too!!! The important thing to remember is to live each day to the fullest!!! right?!?

5) Weber grill- She's assembled and she's beautiful! (See above) We popped her cherry christened her last night by grilling chicken, swordfish, tuna, asparagus, and zucchini (that was picked our of our garden...) THE BOMB!

6) Golf- finally played yesterday afternoon with L and C. It was awesome and I hit a 49 (par 31) which is my best score ever. Tiger was 14 under yesterday and I was 18 over - that's gotta mean something, right?

7) Beach Vacations are finally on the horizon. (Thanks be to God.)

8) Last, but certainly not least (drum-roll) Mac rolled over for the first time, and she's getting quite good at it. Once she gets to her tummy though, she's always a little disappointed at how little there is to see there. (She's so advanced) that she bores easily... but worry not, I'll have her doing one-handed pushups by the summer's end.

:)