My most recent anthem. It's a remake of an old Cy Coleman song. Though, of course, the only other version I've heard is the Frank Sinatra version. And while he does it beautifully, of course he does, Fiona Apple's version is so haunting, and her voice is just better suited to the song, in my opinion. Listen, and then listen again, because I don't think the full impact hits on the first run through.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Furry, Floppy Love
This is my sweet boy...Charlie. He makes everything better. He protects me from all the bad things in the world. True story...The other night when the munchkin was off at her dad's, I was watching a special on NatGeo (geez...I'm a nerd) and was surprised by a particularly traumatic scene and started crying and Charlie went nuts...barking and running around trying to figure out what was making me cry because he was going to kill it, dammit!!
Charlie, like me, is a huge drama queen. He is good at pouting and whining and letting the world know just how miserable his life is. As sad as this picture is, it's nothing to look on his face when I gather my things because I'm...leaving the house...There is nothing worse in the world than when I leave the house. And if I'm gone overnight? The moping is ridiculous. He won't eat, and just lays around feeling sorry for himself.
But as far as Charlie is concerned, that's nothing to the horror that is this guy...
This guy has no concept of "personal boundaries." He doesn't seem to know or care that I belong solely to Charlie. This guy thinks it's a good day if there is never a shred of sunlight between us. Charlie tries to keep Ellwood in line, he really does. But Ellwood is stubborn...and stupid...which means that Charlie has to tell him again and again to MOVE!! Or to stop chasing the damn laser light or any number of other things that Ellwood does that Charlie does not approve of.
I think Ellwood's really starting to grow on Charlie, though...either that or he's decided that Ellwood is just too dumb to take care of himself. See, while Charlie is a very verbal dog and lets you know if there is an intruder or just a stray falling leaf that offends him, Ellwood never barks...well, unless he's chasing cats...but that's a whole other subject... Since Ellwood isn't standing up for his rights at the top of his lungs, Charlie's decided that's his job. He's taken to whining at the door if Ellwood wants to be let in or let out or to look at the business section of New York Times...
I love this dog. I really, really do...and he loves me...he really, really does...
Friday, January 15, 2010
Just Because I'd Rather Have My Eyes Poked Out With Sharp Sticks...
...does not give someone else the right to tell me whom I may or may not marry. My queer pals have just as much right to tie themselves up in an outdated social convention as do my straight pals. And given that I'm pretty pro-civil rights for everyone, not just myself, I'm deeply emotionally invested in the fight for marriage equality. As long as our government insists on giving rights, responsibilities and privileges to straight, married couples, it cannot deny those same rights to committed gay couples. It makes no sense and is deeply, intrinsically wrong.
So, needless to say, I'm following pretty closely the Prop 8 trial. I've got my reservations about the timing of this trial, because I think it may end up doing more harm to the movement than good, because whatever the outcome of this trial, it's going to be appealed to the Supreme Court, and the current political make up of the Supreme Court leads me to believe there's a good chance that the Supreme Court will rule against gay marriage...not an insurmountable obstacle, but one that would seriously hinder the movement. It takes a very long time for the Supreme Court to reverse itself and since I think that gay marriage is a no brainer for most people under thirty, I think that we need to wait only a few years, say no later than 2016, before voter legislation legalizes it.
I know, though, that it's easy for me, someone who doesn't want to ever get married, to say wait, because I'm not waiting. Marriage equality is a moot point for me personally, since I will never get married. But, that doesn't make me insensitive to the needs of others. I have family and friends who would dearly love to be able to get married, and it's hard for me to say to them..."Wait." My concern, though, is that by pushing the issue too early, before it's likely to succeed, we'll actually end up increasing the amount of time before marriage equality is gained.
My concerns, of course, are a moot point since the trial is ongoing, so all I can really do is watch, and wait, and hope. Part of that watching and waiting, however, gave me a good laugh today, because I do so love it when the anti-marriage equality folks make themselves look like the morons they truly are.
The Courage Campaign has a blog following the progress of the Prop 8 trial that is using this logo:
which is, of course, a parody of the ProtectMarriage logo. You can go to the blog and read about the response of ProtectMarriage and the hilarious answer from the Trial Tracker blog. Hopefully, it will give you a good laugh at the stupidity of the marriage protection folks...
So, needless to say, I'm following pretty closely the Prop 8 trial. I've got my reservations about the timing of this trial, because I think it may end up doing more harm to the movement than good, because whatever the outcome of this trial, it's going to be appealed to the Supreme Court, and the current political make up of the Supreme Court leads me to believe there's a good chance that the Supreme Court will rule against gay marriage...not an insurmountable obstacle, but one that would seriously hinder the movement. It takes a very long time for the Supreme Court to reverse itself and since I think that gay marriage is a no brainer for most people under thirty, I think that we need to wait only a few years, say no later than 2016, before voter legislation legalizes it.
I know, though, that it's easy for me, someone who doesn't want to ever get married, to say wait, because I'm not waiting. Marriage equality is a moot point for me personally, since I will never get married. But, that doesn't make me insensitive to the needs of others. I have family and friends who would dearly love to be able to get married, and it's hard for me to say to them..."Wait." My concern, though, is that by pushing the issue too early, before it's likely to succeed, we'll actually end up increasing the amount of time before marriage equality is gained.
My concerns, of course, are a moot point since the trial is ongoing, so all I can really do is watch, and wait, and hope. Part of that watching and waiting, however, gave me a good laugh today, because I do so love it when the anti-marriage equality folks make themselves look like the morons they truly are.
The Courage Campaign has a blog following the progress of the Prop 8 trial that is using this logo:
which is, of course, a parody of the ProtectMarriage logo. You can go to the blog and read about the response of ProtectMarriage and the hilarious answer from the Trial Tracker blog. Hopefully, it will give you a good laugh at the stupidity of the marriage protection folks...
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Happy New Year
I don't do New Year's resolutions. I mean, I'm sure I did once, like, a million years ago, but nowhere in my memory is a New Year's resolution. But even without a specific memory, I can tell you how any such event would have played out. I'd have done really, really well for a few weeks, maybe even a few months, and then, slowly but as surely as the sun will rise within just a handful of hours of my typing this, I would slip, falter and then fail utterly. I'm great at starting...and godawful at finishing. It's been my biggest personality flaw my whole life.
And yet, tonight I am filled with a sense of wanting to begin again, to try my faulty resolve and, for once, find it not wanting. I've been contemplating this last year as we're prone to doing at this time and finding myself ready to turn the page on this trying chapter of my life, but I find myself wondering what comes next. Not like the big mystery of what does the future hold, but the question of what will my life be about. The last ten years that question has been easy to answer. My purpose has been my family, my daughter and my now ex girlfriend. So I knew that whatever else I might do, my life would revolve around them.
To some extent, even with the disappearance of the girlfriend from that picture, my purpose will still by my family...my daughter and, of course, my larger extended family, but the reality is that every day my daughter grows older and the days until she is a woman on her own deciding where her life story will lead her are getting fewer in number every day. And my goal, as is every parent's, is that I will have raised my daughter to be a capable adult who will have her own life, and her own family and while I always intend to be close to her, at some point, living every moment of my life for my daughter will not only be unnecessary, but also wholly unhealthy for the both of us. In the past, of course, the idea was that the girlfriend and I would ride off into the sunset and grow old together and be grandmas and all of that.
I've always defined my life by my relationships. When I was a teenager, my friends were my life, as a young adult, my daughter became my life. So, I've always thought of myself as someone's daughter or sister or friend or lover or mother, and rarely as an entity into myself, and while I will still continue to be all of those things to various people, it's clearly time to be Laura, the woman...who also happens to be a mother and a daughter and a friend and a lover. I know that, for the time being and the foreseeable future, I am not in a position to add partner or wife or girlfriend to that list (okay, so never, ever on the wife thing) and frankly, I really don't want to look for that now. Not until I know where I want to place the focus of my life.
It would be far easier if there was one thing I was more passionately interested in than I was in any other thing. But, as has always been the case, my interests are wide and very little can hold my attention to the exclusion of other things for long enough that I can really make a life out of it. I love so many things: cooking and history and social causes aplenty. There are many things that strike a chord in me, but none so deeply that I really want to devote myself to it. Once upon a time, before chronic illness became my bosom buddy, I thought I had found it...I worked for a time as a Certified Nurse's Aide and wanted to become an RN and devote myself to nursing because it was something I could care about, something that I could feel good about, that would hold my interest due to it's ever changing nature. Now, of course, physically and emotionally, nursing is too much for me.
And chronic illness is going to truly complicate this search, because any work too strenuous, whether physically or emotionally taxing, is out of the question because it will hurt my health and make any part of my life impossible.
I have some plans, some educational plans that will be set into motion in the very near future, but they aren't long term plans and it's not something that I can see myself doing for the rest of my life without wanting to gouge my eyes out with pointy sticks.
So...while I hesitate (out of superstition, lest I jinx myself) to use the term resolution, it appears that I have one. While I go about my short term education goals that are going to give me the financial ability to be independent, I am also going to start exploring my interests, my skills...and finding that thing that's going to give my life meaning when my daughter is grown and happily finding her own path.
And yet, tonight I am filled with a sense of wanting to begin again, to try my faulty resolve and, for once, find it not wanting. I've been contemplating this last year as we're prone to doing at this time and finding myself ready to turn the page on this trying chapter of my life, but I find myself wondering what comes next. Not like the big mystery of what does the future hold, but the question of what will my life be about. The last ten years that question has been easy to answer. My purpose has been my family, my daughter and my now ex girlfriend. So I knew that whatever else I might do, my life would revolve around them.
To some extent, even with the disappearance of the girlfriend from that picture, my purpose will still by my family...my daughter and, of course, my larger extended family, but the reality is that every day my daughter grows older and the days until she is a woman on her own deciding where her life story will lead her are getting fewer in number every day. And my goal, as is every parent's, is that I will have raised my daughter to be a capable adult who will have her own life, and her own family and while I always intend to be close to her, at some point, living every moment of my life for my daughter will not only be unnecessary, but also wholly unhealthy for the both of us. In the past, of course, the idea was that the girlfriend and I would ride off into the sunset and grow old together and be grandmas and all of that.
I've always defined my life by my relationships. When I was a teenager, my friends were my life, as a young adult, my daughter became my life. So, I've always thought of myself as someone's daughter or sister or friend or lover or mother, and rarely as an entity into myself, and while I will still continue to be all of those things to various people, it's clearly time to be Laura, the woman...who also happens to be a mother and a daughter and a friend and a lover. I know that, for the time being and the foreseeable future, I am not in a position to add partner or wife or girlfriend to that list (okay, so never, ever on the wife thing) and frankly, I really don't want to look for that now. Not until I know where I want to place the focus of my life.
It would be far easier if there was one thing I was more passionately interested in than I was in any other thing. But, as has always been the case, my interests are wide and very little can hold my attention to the exclusion of other things for long enough that I can really make a life out of it. I love so many things: cooking and history and social causes aplenty. There are many things that strike a chord in me, but none so deeply that I really want to devote myself to it. Once upon a time, before chronic illness became my bosom buddy, I thought I had found it...I worked for a time as a Certified Nurse's Aide and wanted to become an RN and devote myself to nursing because it was something I could care about, something that I could feel good about, that would hold my interest due to it's ever changing nature. Now, of course, physically and emotionally, nursing is too much for me.
And chronic illness is going to truly complicate this search, because any work too strenuous, whether physically or emotionally taxing, is out of the question because it will hurt my health and make any part of my life impossible.
I have some plans, some educational plans that will be set into motion in the very near future, but they aren't long term plans and it's not something that I can see myself doing for the rest of my life without wanting to gouge my eyes out with pointy sticks.
So...while I hesitate (out of superstition, lest I jinx myself) to use the term resolution, it appears that I have one. While I go about my short term education goals that are going to give me the financial ability to be independent, I am also going to start exploring my interests, my skills...and finding that thing that's going to give my life meaning when my daughter is grown and happily finding her own path.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Sex Is Work
I've mentioned my opinion on sex work before. I think it should be legal, and I get really frustrated with the judginess of other women when discussing the choices of fully grown women. Let's be clear here...I'm not talking about women on street corners addicted to crack or little girls at the mercy of their pimps, I'm talking about women who are smart enough and mature enough to decide for themselves that spending a few naked hours with your heels in the air beats the hell out of flipping burgers any damn day of the week.
Supposing I'd had the guts back in the day when the goods had a bit more financial value, I like to think I'd have made a damn good escort. Smart enough to realize that sex work is at best a gig that lasts a few years and crazy enough that the outlandishness of a client's requests wouldn't have caused me a moment's hesitation, but also sane enough to keep a life outside of sex work. I think I could have done it, and I wish like hell I'd tried. These days, let's face it, I'd be lucky to be pulling down a twenty for a back seat blow job. The goods ain't what they used to be, and for that matter, neither is my stamina.
Besides, really, what is sex work? Supposing you have no religion to answer to, and that you could give a rat's ass what society thinks of you, (both of which applies to me, btw) why not? How hard is it to pretend that you're enjoying sex? We've all done it. God, knows I have. (And for the record, no, that's not a dig at my exes...it's simple honesty.) In the confines of even the most loving relationships there are times when your partner wants it and you don't. And, yeah, you could be a cunt and tell them to fuck themselves, or you could be a stand up gal and take one for the team...heh heh. In theory, I suppose, it's a lie...in reality...it's another way of being a loving partner. No one wants to be rejected. Even when you know your partner loves you, even when you know your partner is enormously turned on by you most of the time...that one time they say, "Not tonight, honey..." It can really hurt. Now, admittedly, if your sex life becomes all about the sex for your partner's sake, something's wrong and you need to fix it.
And, frankly, let's face it. A lot of the jobs I've had in my life were about someone paying me to be a body...I didn't make my minimum wage at McDonald's (my after school job in high school) for my brilliant mind, let me tell you. It was hot, sticky, stinky work that hurt my back and my feet and for which I earned a pittance. I think of the hours spent scrubbing the smell of rehydrated onions and french fries out of my hair and realize that for the same amount of ick factor I could have easily made fully 25 times what I got paid to sling burgers. Wasted opportunities....
And for the record, as a mom...no, it wouldn't be my first choice for my little midget's career, but neither would I choose for her to sling burgers. If she decided, as an informed adult, to spend a few years as a sex worker, why would I have any more problem with that than if she were gay or bi or straight or anything else having to do with her sexuality, which is not really any of my fucking business. Now, if she becomes a born again Christian, or (oh, the horror) a Republican, then she'll hear it...
Supposing I'd had the guts back in the day when the goods had a bit more financial value, I like to think I'd have made a damn good escort. Smart enough to realize that sex work is at best a gig that lasts a few years and crazy enough that the outlandishness of a client's requests wouldn't have caused me a moment's hesitation, but also sane enough to keep a life outside of sex work. I think I could have done it, and I wish like hell I'd tried. These days, let's face it, I'd be lucky to be pulling down a twenty for a back seat blow job. The goods ain't what they used to be, and for that matter, neither is my stamina.
Besides, really, what is sex work? Supposing you have no religion to answer to, and that you could give a rat's ass what society thinks of you, (both of which applies to me, btw) why not? How hard is it to pretend that you're enjoying sex? We've all done it. God, knows I have. (And for the record, no, that's not a dig at my exes...it's simple honesty.) In the confines of even the most loving relationships there are times when your partner wants it and you don't. And, yeah, you could be a cunt and tell them to fuck themselves, or you could be a stand up gal and take one for the team...heh heh. In theory, I suppose, it's a lie...in reality...it's another way of being a loving partner. No one wants to be rejected. Even when you know your partner loves you, even when you know your partner is enormously turned on by you most of the time...that one time they say, "Not tonight, honey..." It can really hurt. Now, admittedly, if your sex life becomes all about the sex for your partner's sake, something's wrong and you need to fix it.
And, frankly, let's face it. A lot of the jobs I've had in my life were about someone paying me to be a body...I didn't make my minimum wage at McDonald's (my after school job in high school) for my brilliant mind, let me tell you. It was hot, sticky, stinky work that hurt my back and my feet and for which I earned a pittance. I think of the hours spent scrubbing the smell of rehydrated onions and french fries out of my hair and realize that for the same amount of ick factor I could have easily made fully 25 times what I got paid to sling burgers. Wasted opportunities....
And for the record, as a mom...no, it wouldn't be my first choice for my little midget's career, but neither would I choose for her to sling burgers. If she decided, as an informed adult, to spend a few years as a sex worker, why would I have any more problem with that than if she were gay or bi or straight or anything else having to do with her sexuality, which is not really any of my fucking business. Now, if she becomes a born again Christian, or (oh, the horror) a Republican, then she'll hear it...
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Smile
I have a few blog posts all ready to go on my laptop. Unfortunately, my laptop is back at the shop for repairs...boo... They assure me that this time it won't take 4 weeks to get it back, so hopefully I'll be up and running again here soon.
In the meantime...here's a musical interlude. This is what I have on repeat on my iPod at the moment.
In the meantime...here's a musical interlude. This is what I have on repeat on my iPod at the moment.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Mmm...Fresh Baked Bread
I'm sitting in my living room enjoying our beautifully decorated tree and the smell of the bread I just took out of the oven. It's very cozy on this blustery day. It's been pouring down rain all day, but thankfully we haven't lost power. It's probably because we're prepared and actually could go somewhere if we need to do so.
I'm a baking queen these days. I even made english muffins last night, but they're kind of a pain to make and I think I'm doing something wrong because they didn't have all the nooks and crannies they were supposed to have. I might try them again, but today was all about the French bread. French bread is a bit more fussy than the challah I made last time. It requires regular kneading during the rising process, so while I was helping the midget decorate the tree, every ten minutes or so, I had to stop and punch down the dough. But it was well worth judging by the heavenly smell wafting through the house. I won't get a chance to sample it until tomorrow night as I baked it for the family dinner at my aunt and uncle's house. It looks as good as it smells though...
While it looks pretty, it doesn't look anywhere near as pretty as the challah.
I used the second loaf of challah to make French toast this morning. It was amazingly yummy stuff. We ate it so fast there was no time to take a picture.
Baking is fun stuff...I just wish I had a maid or an assistant to do all the cleaing up afterwards!!
I'm a baking queen these days. I even made english muffins last night, but they're kind of a pain to make and I think I'm doing something wrong because they didn't have all the nooks and crannies they were supposed to have. I might try them again, but today was all about the French bread. French bread is a bit more fussy than the challah I made last time. It requires regular kneading during the rising process, so while I was helping the midget decorate the tree, every ten minutes or so, I had to stop and punch down the dough. But it was well worth judging by the heavenly smell wafting through the house. I won't get a chance to sample it until tomorrow night as I baked it for the family dinner at my aunt and uncle's house. It looks as good as it smells though...
While it looks pretty, it doesn't look anywhere near as pretty as the challah.
I used the second loaf of challah to make French toast this morning. It was amazingly yummy stuff. We ate it so fast there was no time to take a picture.
Baking is fun stuff...I just wish I had a maid or an assistant to do all the cleaing up afterwards!!
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Snow Days: They're Just More Fun With Power
We got snow early this year. Usually, my neck of the woods doesn't get much snow and when we do get it it's February/Marchish. But Sunday night we got a foot and a half and most of it is still sitting in my yard.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love the snow. I love watching it fall and I love how beautiful it is when I'm looking out my window. And I love, love, love having my four wheel drive (such a dykey thing to admit, right?) when it snows. But, this week I did NOT love the snow. I did not love it because about two hours into what was supposed to be a cozy snow day with my daughter, our power went out.
Everything in my house runs on electricity. Heat, stove...We're on a well so even our water doesn't work when there's no power. But we hunkered down and tried to make the best of it, thinking that we'd have power back shortly. Only, we didn't. And without heat, and no firewood, this house got very cold, very quickly. I had my snake in my shirt, and my kid and I were bundled up with blankets and trying to make the best of what was started to look like a very uncomfortable situation.
As night started to fall, I must admit I started to panic a bit. I'd tried to figure out a way to get the kid somewhere else so that she, at least, would be warm, but my parent's driveway was impassable and her other parents were being less than helpful, and then the temperature dropped very suddenly, and despite the layers of clothes and the layers of blankets we started to get very, very cold.
I had a short break down and threw myself a pity party. And then I made myself snap out of it. You really don't have time to fall apart when you're a mom, regardless of the situation. We gathered up scrap wood, I made a fire in the fire place, broke out the candles and started to try to figure out exactly how we were going to entertain ourselves until bed time. Just as the house started to warm up, and we were getting around to thinking we were going to be okay...we'd made ourselves a nest of blankets in the living room near the fireplace and were cuddled up with the dogs (Ellwood was, and still is, very upset about the snow) when suddenly the power came back on and there was much rejoicing.
It's funny, but during those cold hours, I hated every single flake of snow that fell. I took it somewhat personally, as though this massive storm front that was affecting millions of people was somehow aimed at me and my little one, and our beloved pets. Can you say narcissistic? And then, the power was on, and it was warm and bright and the snow was beautiful again and Ellwood's disgust with the cold wet stuff and Charlie's silly hopping through the snow and my daughter's open wonder was joy distilled.
I've got some pics of Charlie romping through the snow, because, let's face it, there's nothing cuter than a moppy little black dog romping in the snow. I'm going to try and remember how to post them so that interwebs can feast their eyes on the cuteness that is my Charlie-dog...
Now, don't get me wrong. I love the snow. I love watching it fall and I love how beautiful it is when I'm looking out my window. And I love, love, love having my four wheel drive (such a dykey thing to admit, right?) when it snows. But, this week I did NOT love the snow. I did not love it because about two hours into what was supposed to be a cozy snow day with my daughter, our power went out.
Everything in my house runs on electricity. Heat, stove...We're on a well so even our water doesn't work when there's no power. But we hunkered down and tried to make the best of it, thinking that we'd have power back shortly. Only, we didn't. And without heat, and no firewood, this house got very cold, very quickly. I had my snake in my shirt, and my kid and I were bundled up with blankets and trying to make the best of what was started to look like a very uncomfortable situation.
As night started to fall, I must admit I started to panic a bit. I'd tried to figure out a way to get the kid somewhere else so that she, at least, would be warm, but my parent's driveway was impassable and her other parents were being less than helpful, and then the temperature dropped very suddenly, and despite the layers of clothes and the layers of blankets we started to get very, very cold.
I had a short break down and threw myself a pity party. And then I made myself snap out of it. You really don't have time to fall apart when you're a mom, regardless of the situation. We gathered up scrap wood, I made a fire in the fire place, broke out the candles and started to try to figure out exactly how we were going to entertain ourselves until bed time. Just as the house started to warm up, and we were getting around to thinking we were going to be okay...we'd made ourselves a nest of blankets in the living room near the fireplace and were cuddled up with the dogs (Ellwood was, and still is, very upset about the snow) when suddenly the power came back on and there was much rejoicing.
It's funny, but during those cold hours, I hated every single flake of snow that fell. I took it somewhat personally, as though this massive storm front that was affecting millions of people was somehow aimed at me and my little one, and our beloved pets. Can you say narcissistic? And then, the power was on, and it was warm and bright and the snow was beautiful again and Ellwood's disgust with the cold wet stuff and Charlie's silly hopping through the snow and my daughter's open wonder was joy distilled.
I've got some pics of Charlie romping through the snow, because, let's face it, there's nothing cuter than a moppy little black dog romping in the snow. I'm going to try and remember how to post them so that interwebs can feast their eyes on the cuteness that is my Charlie-dog...
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
Control Freak
Okay, guys....hold onto the edge of your seats, it's confession time. I am a huge control freak. I like things my way and feel that it would be best for everyone if they just did what I told them to do. My therapist says this stems from my inability to control my crazy life as a child. My exes say it's annoying. I say it's just part of my charm.
Anyway, the point of that startling revelation is that I have found a way to channel my need for control in a way that is neither self destructive or a nuisance to those around me. I'm baking. I've immersed myself in all kinds of baking projects. I'm waiting for challah dough to rise as I type this and yesterday I made my own bread sticks and a few days before that I made dinner rolls.
Previously, I avoided any recipe that required yeast, because it seemed like a job that is much too fussy for me. But what I've discovered is that there is no reason to be afraid of yeast. It as actually quite easy to work with and I've had fabulous results. And while my aching hands occasionally protest and I think longingly of the beautiful stand mixer in my mom's kitchen, I really enjoy getting my hands in the dough and taking out of my anger and aggression in a harmless and productive way. I tell you, it's saved me years in prison, because I hear that's where you go when you throw bricks through windows.
Anyway, the point of that startling revelation is that I have found a way to channel my need for control in a way that is neither self destructive or a nuisance to those around me. I'm baking. I've immersed myself in all kinds of baking projects. I'm waiting for challah dough to rise as I type this and yesterday I made my own bread sticks and a few days before that I made dinner rolls.
Previously, I avoided any recipe that required yeast, because it seemed like a job that is much too fussy for me. But what I've discovered is that there is no reason to be afraid of yeast. It as actually quite easy to work with and I've had fabulous results. And while my aching hands occasionally protest and I think longingly of the beautiful stand mixer in my mom's kitchen, I really enjoy getting my hands in the dough and taking out of my anger and aggression in a harmless and productive way. I tell you, it's saved me years in prison, because I hear that's where you go when you throw bricks through windows.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Stabbing...
Did you ever have one of those days where stupid people keeping giving you reasons to stab them? That's the kind of day I've had. And the people who keep giving me reasons to stab them know that I'll totally do it. Okay, I probably won't, but the stress of not stabbing them makes me want to stab myself which is totally lame because I'm not the one doing stabworthy things.
Queen-Sized?
I have a queen size bed. I bought it about seven years ago. The exgirlfriend and I had been sleeping on a futon. A horrible, tiny lumpy futon. That first night in the queen bed...it was such a luxury. I could turn over and not get an elbow in the eye.
The ex has moved on, but I've still got the bed. You'd think I'd be feeling lonely in this big bed all by myself. But...uh...I'm not sleeping by myself. I've got about 30 pounds of canine cuteness sprawled out beside me. These two are small dogs. I keep telling them..."You're little dogs, you don't need that much space." They're not buying it.
Before Ellwoood, Charlie was not a cuddler. But Charlie's such jealous lump that he has to be closer than Ellwood, and since Charlie has a tendency to snap at Ellwood if Ellwood dares to touch him while he's sleeping, I end up with one on each side of me. I think I need a bigger bed...
The ex has moved on, but I've still got the bed. You'd think I'd be feeling lonely in this big bed all by myself. But...uh...I'm not sleeping by myself. I've got about 30 pounds of canine cuteness sprawled out beside me. These two are small dogs. I keep telling them..."You're little dogs, you don't need that much space." They're not buying it.
Before Ellwoood, Charlie was not a cuddler. But Charlie's such jealous lump that he has to be closer than Ellwood, and since Charlie has a tendency to snap at Ellwood if Ellwood dares to touch him while he's sleeping, I end up with one on each side of me. I think I need a bigger bed...
Monday, November 30, 2009
A Game I Can Really Get Into...
I think I've mentioned a time or two my feelings on marriage. It's fine for other people, but I'd rather just stand here while you beat me with a stick. Basically, it's not for me.
It seems the folks at Adult Swim can empathize, and they have created the most fantastic game...Five Minutes To Kill Yourself: Wedding Day. You can personalize the wedding to represent you and your potential mate. It even allows for same sex couples....or you can just let it pick for you, which is what I do. It's great fun and a good way to kill (get it..ha...I'm so damn funny) five minutes.
Go here and check it out. Poke around the site for other fun games. (I like Zombie Hooker Nightmare, too.)
It seems the folks at Adult Swim can empathize, and they have created the most fantastic game...Five Minutes To Kill Yourself: Wedding Day. You can personalize the wedding to represent you and your potential mate. It even allows for same sex couples....or you can just let it pick for you, which is what I do. It's great fun and a good way to kill (get it..ha...I'm so damn funny) five minutes.
Go here and check it out. Poke around the site for other fun games. (I like Zombie Hooker Nightmare, too.)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Thankful
I've spent my day doing what I love most...cooking. And cooking my favorite meal of the year, at that. There is something about traditional Thanksgiving fare that just lightens my soul. I love the simple flavors, the savoriness of it all. Not to mention that while it takes quite awhile, it is the simplest, most straightforward of cooking. And I'm damn good at it.
While I dislike the racial history behind Thanksgiving, it is my favorite holiday. I am hardly religious or even "spiritual," but the gathering together of the people I love so that we may feast and enjoy and simply be together, without all the consumerism that mars Christmas is lovely.
As I went about my tasks...boiling the yams and making stuffing, I realized how very different this Thanksgiving is from the last one. Last year seems so far away, perhaps because so very much has happened this year, and I am miles away from the life I was living last year at this time. All the joy had gone from my life and I was so numb, so anesthetized by my depression that I didn't even see it. I went through the motions, but took no joy in what has always been a joyful task for me.
I have so very much to be thankful for this year. I am thankful, as always, as I will forever be, for my beautiful, healthy, brilliant daughter. I am thankful for the task of being her mother, though it isn't easy and some days it is harder to see the joy, she, more than anything else in my life, gives me a reason every morning to be. If I accomplish nothing else in the world, being her mother will be enough. Though, to be brutally honest, I haven't always felt that way. I was not one of those mothers who looked at their infants the moment they were born and felt that indescribable feeling of coming home to oneself. I spent years struggling with the occasional resentment I felt that I was not living the life I had wanted, the fear of being "just a mother." I wish it had been easier, that I had felt the rightness of being her mother from the moment she was born, but then, those things that are the most important rarely come easily to me.
And while this has, in many ways, been the hardest year of my life, I am thankful for the things that got me here. I am thankful to be feeling again. And, yeah, the pain has sucked. But, I've also found the capacity for joy again. I'm still a little rusty at all of this, and parts of my heart are so broken I wonder if it will ever again be whole. But, even if it isn't, at least I am present in my life once more, present as a mother and a sister and friend, and that is beautiful to me.
I am thankful for my family, without whom this year could have been the death of me. I never cease to be amazed at the good fortune that gave me a second family to give me what my first could not. I am thankful for all the people who love me despite my craziness, despite my irrationality. I'm not the easiest person to love, and my family and my best friend (who is half a world away from me tonight, but still the one of the biggest pieces of what makes my life beautiful) make it look simple. I thank you and I love you with all of my all too imperfect heart.
While I dislike the racial history behind Thanksgiving, it is my favorite holiday. I am hardly religious or even "spiritual," but the gathering together of the people I love so that we may feast and enjoy and simply be together, without all the consumerism that mars Christmas is lovely.
As I went about my tasks...boiling the yams and making stuffing, I realized how very different this Thanksgiving is from the last one. Last year seems so far away, perhaps because so very much has happened this year, and I am miles away from the life I was living last year at this time. All the joy had gone from my life and I was so numb, so anesthetized by my depression that I didn't even see it. I went through the motions, but took no joy in what has always been a joyful task for me.
I have so very much to be thankful for this year. I am thankful, as always, as I will forever be, for my beautiful, healthy, brilliant daughter. I am thankful for the task of being her mother, though it isn't easy and some days it is harder to see the joy, she, more than anything else in my life, gives me a reason every morning to be. If I accomplish nothing else in the world, being her mother will be enough. Though, to be brutally honest, I haven't always felt that way. I was not one of those mothers who looked at their infants the moment they were born and felt that indescribable feeling of coming home to oneself. I spent years struggling with the occasional resentment I felt that I was not living the life I had wanted, the fear of being "just a mother." I wish it had been easier, that I had felt the rightness of being her mother from the moment she was born, but then, those things that are the most important rarely come easily to me.
And while this has, in many ways, been the hardest year of my life, I am thankful for the things that got me here. I am thankful to be feeling again. And, yeah, the pain has sucked. But, I've also found the capacity for joy again. I'm still a little rusty at all of this, and parts of my heart are so broken I wonder if it will ever again be whole. But, even if it isn't, at least I am present in my life once more, present as a mother and a sister and friend, and that is beautiful to me.
I am thankful for my family, without whom this year could have been the death of me. I never cease to be amazed at the good fortune that gave me a second family to give me what my first could not. I am thankful for all the people who love me despite my craziness, despite my irrationality. I'm not the easiest person to love, and my family and my best friend (who is half a world away from me tonight, but still the one of the biggest pieces of what makes my life beautiful) make it look simple. I thank you and I love you with all of my all too imperfect heart.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Junk Science
At the risk of sounding really conceited, I'm a really intelligent girl. There's quite a bit going on my noggin...no common sense 99% of the time, but that's a whole other ball of wax.
As an intelligent girl, it never ceases to amaze just how uneducated (or just plain stupid) other people can be. There's so much information available in the world, it seems a waste to not take advantage of it. But, that's not the worst of it, really. The worst thing (as far as I'm concerned, anyway) is that some people will believe anything they read or see or hear someone else say. The idea of finding legitimate sources, or cross-checking facts simply doesn't occur to them. They read it on the internet or in some new-age dimestore novel and so, of course, it must be true.
This sort of thing, the "I saw it on the internet, so it must be true" ridiculousness is my single largest pet peeve. When I run into it, it makes my head explode. Okay, not really...but it does set me off on a three hour lecture about fact checking and peer reviews and reliable sources, and no, goddammit, Wikipedia is NOT a fucking reliable source.
The Archaeogoddess runs into this far more often than I do, what with her being a an archaeologist and all. I once listened as this utter moron I know talked about The DaVinci Code conspiracy crap with the Archaeogoddess as though it was fact and not ridiculous fiction. The Archaeogoddess kept a polite smile on her face the entire time, and then politely changed the subject. If it had been me, I'd have berated the woman up one side and down the other...but that's just part of my charm.
Here's a hint, folks...if it's been "kept hidden" or if it's a "secret they don't want you to know" move on. It's likely utter nonsense.
And just because there was a "new study" that showed that the cure for cancer is rubbing bacon grease in your butt crack, that doesn't mean every cancer patient should be slathering on the lard. A study is just that...a single study. It could have been an anomaly, a chance occurrence, a mistake made by the researchers. In order for something to be true, you must be able to prove it. You must show me proof. I want to see first sources, and repeatable results. Your cousin's friend who drank pomegranate juice and suddenly cured her fibromyalgia isn't going to impress me.
As an intelligent girl, it never ceases to amaze just how uneducated (or just plain stupid) other people can be. There's so much information available in the world, it seems a waste to not take advantage of it. But, that's not the worst of it, really. The worst thing (as far as I'm concerned, anyway) is that some people will believe anything they read or see or hear someone else say. The idea of finding legitimate sources, or cross-checking facts simply doesn't occur to them. They read it on the internet or in some new-age dimestore novel and so, of course, it must be true.
This sort of thing, the "I saw it on the internet, so it must be true" ridiculousness is my single largest pet peeve. When I run into it, it makes my head explode. Okay, not really...but it does set me off on a three hour lecture about fact checking and peer reviews and reliable sources, and no, goddammit, Wikipedia is NOT a fucking reliable source.
The Archaeogoddess runs into this far more often than I do, what with her being a an archaeologist and all. I once listened as this utter moron I know talked about The DaVinci Code conspiracy crap with the Archaeogoddess as though it was fact and not ridiculous fiction. The Archaeogoddess kept a polite smile on her face the entire time, and then politely changed the subject. If it had been me, I'd have berated the woman up one side and down the other...but that's just part of my charm.
Here's a hint, folks...if it's been "kept hidden" or if it's a "secret they don't want you to know" move on. It's likely utter nonsense.
And just because there was a "new study" that showed that the cure for cancer is rubbing bacon grease in your butt crack, that doesn't mean every cancer patient should be slathering on the lard. A study is just that...a single study. It could have been an anomaly, a chance occurrence, a mistake made by the researchers. In order for something to be true, you must be able to prove it. You must show me proof. I want to see first sources, and repeatable results. Your cousin's friend who drank pomegranate juice and suddenly cured her fibromyalgia isn't going to impress me.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Archaeogoddess Rocks!!
Ha..I love it...Archaeogoddess...rocks...get it? I kill me!!
Anyway, my best friend is on a dig in Qatar as a paid archaeologist. You can read about her adventures here. I am so proud and amazed and thrilled...despite the fact that she's even less accessible than normal due to lack of regular internet access.
On a completely unrelated note...I have been reunited with my beloved laptop and should, therefore, be back to posting quasi-regularly. I broke my ankle the day before Halloween so my life has been that much more lacking in adventure, but I'm sure I'll find something to blog about, given enough time I always find something about which to complain.
Anyway, my best friend is on a dig in Qatar as a paid archaeologist. You can read about her adventures here. I am so proud and amazed and thrilled...despite the fact that she's even less accessible than normal due to lack of regular internet access.
On a completely unrelated note...I have been reunited with my beloved laptop and should, therefore, be back to posting quasi-regularly. I broke my ankle the day before Halloween so my life has been that much more lacking in adventure, but I'm sure I'll find something to blog about, given enough time I always find something about which to complain.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Reunited....
...And it feels so good...
My trusty laptop is back where it belongs...sure, it only took a month for them to replace the motherboard...the motherboard of a computer only 9 months old, but it's not like I'm complaining or anything...Fuckers...
So, the loss of my laptop for the last month has meant more time on my hands. Even on the days when I was able to use my sister's computer while she was at work, that atill left hours of no computer access of everyday. And then I up and broke my ankle...because I am a dork like that...and I had even more time on my hands. So, rather than use my time productively, I spent a lot of time thinking, obsessing really. Because Facebook keeps me from thinking...it's true. The last day and a half have been filled with mindless Facebooking. Good times...
My trusty laptop is back where it belongs...sure, it only took a month for them to replace the motherboard...the motherboard of a computer only 9 months old, but it's not like I'm complaining or anything...Fuckers...
So, the loss of my laptop for the last month has meant more time on my hands. Even on the days when I was able to use my sister's computer while she was at work, that atill left hours of no computer access of everyday. And then I up and broke my ankle...because I am a dork like that...and I had even more time on my hands. So, rather than use my time productively, I spent a lot of time thinking, obsessing really. Because Facebook keeps me from thinking...it's true. The last day and a half have been filled with mindless Facebooking. Good times...
Thursday, October 29, 2009
My Laptop is Broken...
Seriously broken...as in the power comes on, but it won't boot up. I'm hoping it's an easy fix and that it doesn't damage any of my data, but the repair people at Best Buy have had it for over a week now and I have no idea what's going on with it. In fact, the bastards won't even answer the phone today. Don't they understand I NEED my laptop? How can I stay on top of shit without my laptop? (Okay, who the hell am I kidding, I can't even stay on top of shit with my laptop...sigh...)
Anyway, internet action is spotty at best and only available when I can steal my sister's laptop...so that's why there have been no recent posts...not because I'm a lazy bitch...
Anyway, internet action is spotty at best and only available when I can steal my sister's laptop...so that's why there have been no recent posts...not because I'm a lazy bitch...
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Winter Soon...
I live in California, so my next sentence makes no sense. I hate summer. I live for winter. The rain, the sweaters and extra blankets and stews and soups and even the quality of the light. California sunshine, especially by summer's end, is painfully brilliant. It washes out the sky, leeching it a pale baby blue that lacks depth or beauty.
As winter approaches and the leaves fall and the sun sinks lower in the sky, I want to curl up on the sofa with a good book and the beautiful quilt my mother made me. I start breaking out my winter recipes, soups and beans and biscuits and cornbread.
My kitchen is a disaster area. I made potato soup and biscuits and bread pudding yesterday. I know that other people can cook without using every dish and destroying every cooking surface. I'm not one of those people. I can't cook without the end resulting looking like the morning after a frat party.
Oh, but it was heavenly stuff. Lots of garlic and goodness. And months and months of my favorite season yet to come...I'm a happy, happy girl tonight...
As winter approaches and the leaves fall and the sun sinks lower in the sky, I want to curl up on the sofa with a good book and the beautiful quilt my mother made me. I start breaking out my winter recipes, soups and beans and biscuits and cornbread.
My kitchen is a disaster area. I made potato soup and biscuits and bread pudding yesterday. I know that other people can cook without using every dish and destroying every cooking surface. I'm not one of those people. I can't cook without the end resulting looking like the morning after a frat party.
Oh, but it was heavenly stuff. Lots of garlic and goodness. And months and months of my favorite season yet to come...I'm a happy, happy girl tonight...
Sunday, September 20, 2009
I Guess You Just Never Get Over Your First...
In the 1996 presidential election, I was voting for the first time and I had a kick ass government teacher who made the process interesting. Needless to say, I voted for Clinton. I was madly in love with that president. He was my dream president and to have voted for him in my first election...well, it was the beginning of my love/hate affair with politics.
In the dark ages of the Bush administration, I missed Clinton fiercely. I idealized that man, that presidency. For a president like Bush to follow Clinton seemed the worst sort of irony.
But then, a few years ago, I started to read more than the standard press reports, delved a bit deeper than the pretty little sound bites you get on the evening news. I realized that Clinton wasn't quite the dream man I thought he was. I learned about Rwanda, learned what a publicity whore the Clinton machinery really was. It took a bit of the shine off the memory, and the man.
And yet, every now and then I see him on tv...doing an interview and he says something that makes me forget my disappointment and takes me back to the first heady days of my political awakening.
This being Sunday, there is nothing on tv, so I was going through my dvr recordings and getting caught up on The Daily Show. And there he was...in all his eloquent glory talking about healthcare. And he said what I always want to say to my conservative family about healthcare. And yeah...being on The Daily Show is a bit like preaching to the choir, but I still have to share it because...well, because it's just damn good...
Oh, Bill...you know just how to sweet talk me...
In the dark ages of the Bush administration, I missed Clinton fiercely. I idealized that man, that presidency. For a president like Bush to follow Clinton seemed the worst sort of irony.
But then, a few years ago, I started to read more than the standard press reports, delved a bit deeper than the pretty little sound bites you get on the evening news. I realized that Clinton wasn't quite the dream man I thought he was. I learned about Rwanda, learned what a publicity whore the Clinton machinery really was. It took a bit of the shine off the memory, and the man.
And yet, every now and then I see him on tv...doing an interview and he says something that makes me forget my disappointment and takes me back to the first heady days of my political awakening.
This being Sunday, there is nothing on tv, so I was going through my dvr recordings and getting caught up on The Daily Show. And there he was...in all his eloquent glory talking about healthcare. And he said what I always want to say to my conservative family about healthcare. And yeah...being on The Daily Show is a bit like preaching to the choir, but I still have to share it because...well, because it's just damn good...
| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c | |||
| Exclusive - Bill Clinton Extended Interview Pt. 3 | ||||
| ||||
Oh, Bill...you know just how to sweet talk me...
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
The Gosselins
I admit it. I'm one of those people who watched Jon & Kate Plus Eight. I enjoyed the show, enjoyed the kids...thought it was cute. I even sort of enjoyed the not so friendly byplay between the two of them. Yes, I winced from time to time when she was particularly harsh or he was particularly checked out of their relationship, but I thought it was nice to see that other couples were effected by stress. Too often, we expect that people will be perfect even during extremely stressful times. And no, I don't understand the stress of that many children...but I do know the stress of a chronic illness and too little money.
Their divorce has been tough for me to watch, probably because I'm going through a similar thing. No, there is no divorce, but I don't think the demise of a ten year relationship is that much different.
I always kind of felt sorry for Kate. Which I know puts me in the extreme minority. Everyone felt sorry for Jon because Kate was a complete shrew, which she admittedly is...but Jon was such a non connected lump that I kinda understood her shrewiness. I mean, having one child and being alone in that endeavor, as I have been for the last six months, sometimes drives me to the brink of insanity, I can't even begin to imagine what having eight kids and an emotionally bankrupt partner would be like. I'd be locked up in a loony bin somewhere mumbling lines from Monty Python to myself.
So, yeah...can't say I was terribly surprised when they announced the divorce. But, what they're saying about each other in the press...? It's unbelievable. I mean...I know that when your heart is broken and you have all this hurt and anger you say horrible things, things you mean and things you don't mean. And realistically, while you're trying your damnedest to keep your kids out of the crossfire, sometimes they hear what you've said. And this is both a good and bad thing because while you hate for your kids to hear that sort of thing, it gives you a chance to talk to your kid and explain that you're human and that you make mistakes and that sometimes anger and sadness make you say things you regret. It can be a good moment for you to teach your kid a lesson about life.
But when you go on Larry King and declare that you despise someone...that's not done in the heat of the moment. That's cold calculation. When you give an interview to People magazine saying that the child's other parent doesn't care about them that's calculated as well. And these kids aren't going to have a good teaching moment, because what you say in the heat of the moment you can explain...but what you say in a cold and calculating attempt to hurt someone...you can't explain and you can't expect to be forgiven for. For the rest of their lives, those kids are going to be able to read and hear what their parents did to hurt each other, and that's the kind of pain you can't outgrow...
Their divorce has been tough for me to watch, probably because I'm going through a similar thing. No, there is no divorce, but I don't think the demise of a ten year relationship is that much different.
I always kind of felt sorry for Kate. Which I know puts me in the extreme minority. Everyone felt sorry for Jon because Kate was a complete shrew, which she admittedly is...but Jon was such a non connected lump that I kinda understood her shrewiness. I mean, having one child and being alone in that endeavor, as I have been for the last six months, sometimes drives me to the brink of insanity, I can't even begin to imagine what having eight kids and an emotionally bankrupt partner would be like. I'd be locked up in a loony bin somewhere mumbling lines from Monty Python to myself.
So, yeah...can't say I was terribly surprised when they announced the divorce. But, what they're saying about each other in the press...? It's unbelievable. I mean...I know that when your heart is broken and you have all this hurt and anger you say horrible things, things you mean and things you don't mean. And realistically, while you're trying your damnedest to keep your kids out of the crossfire, sometimes they hear what you've said. And this is both a good and bad thing because while you hate for your kids to hear that sort of thing, it gives you a chance to talk to your kid and explain that you're human and that you make mistakes and that sometimes anger and sadness make you say things you regret. It can be a good moment for you to teach your kid a lesson about life.
But when you go on Larry King and declare that you despise someone...that's not done in the heat of the moment. That's cold calculation. When you give an interview to People magazine saying that the child's other parent doesn't care about them that's calculated as well. And these kids aren't going to have a good teaching moment, because what you say in the heat of the moment you can explain...but what you say in a cold and calculating attempt to hurt someone...you can't explain and you can't expect to be forgiven for. For the rest of their lives, those kids are going to be able to read and hear what their parents did to hurt each other, and that's the kind of pain you can't outgrow...
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