My Week in Review

Friday already?

So this is the second of my two days off, and what can I say? I LOVE THIS. I don't love it enough to retire yet, but I love it plenty. I slept nice and late yesterday, although I woke up with the alarm this morning due to a doctor's appointment. (Meds adjusted, no big deal.) But then I took a nap from 11:45 to 2:45!!! YAY!! Go me!

So it's that kind of lazy time off. The biggest project I worked on was getting all my pictures uploaded to Picasa; I'm not sure why or what I'm going to do with them there. Tag them, I guess, so I can find stuff.

My desk is neat, my bills are are ready to go as soon as someone gives me some money. (And it's on its way, I'm happy to say.) I have laundry to do, but not urgently.

K has gone to visit an old roommate in DC for a few days, from yesterday to Sunday, so the house is quiet -- it's always quite, actually; I never once had to tell a kid to turn down music -- but it's neater when she's gone. No dishes in the sink, no jackets on the couch, and so on.

Oh, btw, I apologize to the rest of the country for the moron New Jersey elected as its governor the other day. A big, stupid idiot-oaf, a former prosecutor who, according to his campaign ads, doesn't understand some basic law. Heaven knows what rights he will attempt to take away from us; he's a conservative buffoon, as opposed to the financial genius (former CEO of Goldman Sachs) who was our incumbent. We always elect liberal senators in New Jersey, but every so often, the electorate settles on some fascist for governor. Ah well, time will tell.

I'm much better than I was last week, but the post nasal drip is still kicking my butt. I'm on multiple nasal sprays now, and am guzzling tea like there's no tomorrow.l




watching PROJECT RUNWAY :: ENTRY #2132
READING: Slept Away by Julie Kraut

Socialism? Still?

I cannot believe that people are saying that the president is trying to turn children into socialists by asking that they watch an address he is making to them while they are in school.

First: socialism? How can anybody actually be worried about that in 2009? Kids, socialism became the policy of the Republican party when they took over the banks last year, remember that? And the automobile industries? That's not history, it's current events.

Second: I was looking for information on the speech earlier today, and I came up with lots of hits for mommy-bloggers concerned about their children being forced to watch this in school, and how many of them were keeping their children home. WTF? Who's anti-government now, hmmm? Here's the thing: he's not campaigning anymore. HE IS THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. He has only one agenda at this point, and it's us, all of us. If that's what the anti-Obamans wanted us to believe when Bush was president, why isn't it still good now that the shoe is on the other foot?

Third: Read the text of the speech. It's very sweet, and it's just what you would want someone to say to your kids. Work hard because it's worth it. Your country needs you. It's not political at all. It's lovely.

Fourth: I know that the speech is aimed at all schoolchildren, and I hope that there are those first and second graders who hear it and listen and for whom it becomes the motivation to succeed. I know that in my high school, it will be on everywhere (and I know that many teachers will complain about it taking away from class time, the curmudgeons), but I just don't know how much impact it will have on teenagers. Or should I say, how many teenagers will be impacted by it. I hope they all are. It's a universal message: work hard and have pride in yourself and it will save America.

Not socialist to me.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2117
READING: The Labyrinth by Rick Riordan

The Sun Shone

for five minutes today, long enough to remind us that it exists. And then, poof. This is the weirdest June ever.

I'm going to follow up yesterday, but first, two articles. Here's one. Is this the coolest app ever? If only they would deliver.

Next. We are living in a topsy-turvy world for sure. I'm worried that they won't let me on an airplane because of my middle name, but it's okay for people on the terrorist watch list to buy guns. Can you believe it?

I got some comments about people with name discrepancies who never had a problem, and in fact, I've never had a problem; I just don't know if I will because the rules have changed. Even so, I tried to think about why this is bothering me so much, why I'm obsessing over it. (I'm not anymore. I got over it.) The therapist I used to go to, when we discussed my fears, would ask "And what would happen if ..." for example, I saw a snake in person. (My greatest of all fears.) And I said "I would die." She said, "Would you really? What would cause you to die?" and so on. So the question I asked myself was, what am I afraid of?

I am not afraid of some things that other people are, reasonably, afraid of. I am not generally afraid of or made nervous by having a mammogram, and I'm the only woman I know who can say that. Why not? What will be will be, I guess. Am I afraid to fly? A lot of people are. I don't enjoy it, but I'm not afraid of it. I'm more afraid when my children fly than when I do.

What will happen if I am at an airport and my ID is challenged because of the not-matching middle names? There's the question. I am, apparently, afraid of getting stopped at airport security. I need to make everything as smooth as it can possibly be so I can just breeze through. If there's a hiccup of a doubt about anything about me, and it slows me down, I'm scared. Of? I'm afraid of getting stopped and sent aside for further screening. I'm afraid of being detained illegally. I'm afraid of being questioned closely, and not hearing them. I'm afraid of the whole loss-of-civil rights potentiality that the TSA has at airport security.

(I'm not saying I live in constant fear of this stuff. I'm just saying this is what I came up with when I analyzed the name thing.)

Ultimately, what I'm afraid of is facing a situation where I lose any and all control I might even have seemed to have had. It's the whole loss-of-control issue, which is a big issue for me (and for many others, I would guess.) Airport security has tremendous potential for a loss-of-control experience of the highest caliber. That's it. That's why all I want is to make sure that I breeze right through without a hiccup.

I'm glad we had this little talk.




watching THE GOLDEN GIRLS :: ENTRY #2071
READING: ----- by -----

It's Time

When Biden took his oath of office, everybody applauded. When they said at noon that Obama was now officially president even though he hadn't taken the oath yet, everybody applauded. When Obama took his oath, we all laughed with him at the flubbed word, and then we applauded, cheered a little, and the adults in the room, I think, were a little choked up, but the kids didn't know why. I think Obama's reference to his father not getting served in a restaurant 60 years ago was meaningless to many of them, and you know? Isn't that what we wanted, our children to live in a world where that kind of thing doesn't happen?


WATCHING the parade :: ENTRY #1969
READING: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell by Susanna Clarke

As Inauguration Day Grows Closer

It is difficult not to get caught up in Inauguration excitement. It occurred to someone on Friday that every student, at least in the high school, should see it, and the techs are scurrying like little mice to make it so. It looks like I will have it on in three places in the library: in the computer lab, on the TV, and projected (via computer) onto the big wall screen. I'm having extra chairs brought in, as well as trash bags, because I'll be allowing people for just this day to eat in the library, since the festivities coincide with the lunch periods.

It is exciting. It is exciting to feel ... enfranchised, if that's the right word. There is such a sense of hope about this new president; my hope, of course, is that it carries through into real change.

I was just talking to my principal, who's about my age. He says he remembers when his immigrant Italian grandmother took him and his brothers out of school one day because John Kennedy was speaking at Journal Square in Jersey City and she wanted them to have that experience. I was too young to feel the excitement of Kennedy, although I remember watching his inauguration on TV, as well as going into the voting booth with my father on election day that year. This must be similar, but for a new generation. I can't say "our" generation, because the baby boomers, although still strong in numbers, elected as one of their own George Bush, so as a generation, we need to lose some credibility for that. (Although not personally, as you can be sure.) But this is the excitement we see and feel for the generation we have created, for our children, who don't all even understand why it's such a big deal that Obama is black. So what, what's the difference? How cool is that, that today's kids don't even see what the big deal is?

I look at Obama and I don't see a black man either, or a white man, or a Hawaiian, or whatever. I see a man who gives me hope that things can change, a man I want to see as our president. It's time that the other side has a chance, since the side leaving power now didn't do such a hot job. I'm very excited that his background is in Constitutional law, since that makes him more likely to uphold the laws, and the laws and the Constitution are the foundation of what we are.

+++++++++++++++++++

In other news, because my school district feels no compulsion to honor Martin Luther King, Jr., apparently, we had school this morning and an in-service for teachers this afternoon which I did not attend. I came home and went food shopping with K, since we didn't go yesterday, and now I'm preparing my lunches for the rest of the week, which is infinitely more worthwhile.

It's snowing softly outside as if it will never stop snowing this winter, kind of like living in the eternal winter of Narnia. If so, I'll need to relocate to sunnier climes, perhaps at last that little apartment over the candy store on Main Street USA. Anyway, we're in, we have food, it's not snowing hard, and there certainly is a lot to watch on TV.

WATCHING Law'n Order :: ENTRY #1968
READING: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell by Susanna Clarke

Quiet Sunday

I never left the house today, unless I want to count the three times I stepped out the back door to take garbage out. Otherwise, I did some laundry and stuff like that. I worked out for about twenty minutes, but had I realized that I was going to be alone for a couple of hours -- the Hubs out walking, the girls out shopping -- I would have planned differently and worked out for longer, and maybe fit in a CVS run as well, since they have Tide on sale and I'm running low. But it was a very nice day.

Once the girls got back, we watched the concert in Washington, which we all had snarky comments on, but in general, it was nice to see that going on. I was particularly moved by Pete Seeger at the end; I've long thought that "This Land is Your Land" would make a much better national anthem than "The Star Spangled Banner." But that's just me.

I'm wondering if I'm enjoying this inauguration so much because it coincides with me pulling out of a depression, or if the inauguration is part of what's helping me along. There is so much hope in the air, so much a sense of what I believe in not being politically incorrect anymore. Plus, don't you just want to pinch the cheeks on that little girl, Sasha? That one looks like she's just waiting for the chance to be an imp in the White House. I love a kid who looks like the spirit is burning behind her eyes, even at 7.

So tomorrow, a half-day, but really longer than half, and then a couple of hours of workshops which I have no plans to attend. One of them is on Internet safety, and since I wrote the original school district policy on it, I think making me go is just disrespectful. I'll stay through the lunch period and then tell them I have to leave.

Nothing else is new. Looks like a heatwave coming up for the rest of the week, temps in the thirties and high twenties. 22 seemed balmy this morning, considering that yesterday we woke up to 2.


WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1967
READING: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norell by Susanna Clarke

Eco ... zzzzzzz

If you're like me, the mention of the word "economics" can put you right to sleep. I don't know anything about it, and in fact, I already know more than I want to. When the two minute reports on the economy come on the news, it sounds to me like Charlie Brown's mother, you know, a trombone going WAAH WAAH WAAH. When I see Suze Orman on TV, I change the channel immediately, because it makes me nervous to watch her since I can't understand a single word she says.

Yet last night I found myself in a lengthy phone conversation with the Sibs on this very topic. She started by saying how terrible it is, and how we should all be taught something about this in school. In fact, starting next year, the state of New Jersey will have an economics component as part of its standards for Social Studies. How do I know this? Because K nearly went into a panic when she heard about it; she's had to take three economics courses, all of them her lowest grades. The Other Chai, who is a master teacher of incredible quality, has been written up in the New York Times twice and has been teaching politics, government, and history for nearly 40 years, says that when they tell her she has to include economics, she'll say "Well, thank you, it's been a nice career." Economics makes everyone queasy, except the Hubs, of course, who was an economics major at Georgetown. (Actually he double-majored in economics and government. So yeah, he's a smartie.)

Here is what I said to my sister. First of all, the only people who are really going to be hurt by this are the ordinary everyday yous and mes. The CEO of AIG and all those other bigshots are doing just fine. They're still taking their trips and furnishing their mansions and driving their hundred thousand dollar cars. They are not suffering at all, even though the whole thing is their fault. (The best explanation I've seen of how this all happened is here.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VABzL8acwWM

Anyway, we were discussing how ordinary people have "lost" so much money that many are not now able to retire as planned. I do understand that this is how people perceive what's happened to them. However, here's what I said:

People who have lost money in the stock market have not actually lost money at all, because it's money they never had. Let's say that, for example, years ago, you bought $100,000 worth of stock, and you've held onto it and four months ago, your portfolio was "worth" a quarter of a million dollars. Does this mean that four months ago, you had a quarter of a million dollars? No. It means that four months ago, you had something that, if you sold it, you could get a quarter million dollars for it. Until or unless you sold it, it was worth, kind of, nothing. At any given moment, it was only worth anything if you sold it, and then it would be worth whatever you could get for it.

Let's say that now, your same stock portfolio is worth $150,000. Did you lose $100,000? No, because you never had it. What you lost is the potential $100,000 that would have existed if you had sold your stock before. In fact, you're $50,000 ahead of where you were when you bought the stock.

All along, people were thinking that they had a portfolio of x amount of money, and it would always be there at that amount (or more), and when they retired they would have that much "money" (which didn't really exist unless you sold it and actually got money that you could put in a bank or in your wallet) and "live off the interest" or "live off the dividends" or whatever. The fly in the ointment here, again, is that unless they cashed out, the money was never really there. Whatever, now, people who had all this money invested in the stock market in risky stocks are screwed, and what they expected to be there isn't there, and now they have to keep working.

Not everybody fits into this category of losing money they thought they had (but didn't) because clearly, not everybody invests in the stock market. There are those who do have the money to invest, and they buy land, for example. ("Land, Katie Scarlet O'Hara ... it's the only thing that matters ... the only thing that lasts.") So for those of you who had money and bought land, ten extra points.

But most people don't invest or buy land or gold coins. Most of us are just getting along, day to day. (Years ago, a broker got in touch with the Hubs and offered to help him create a portfolio. "I'm sorry," said the Hubs, "but all of our money is tied up in survival.") We're still going to get screwed because of how this mess affects everything else, from credit cards to the prices of goods to the ability to get car loans and mortgages, and no one is bailing us out. I think it would be totally cool if Congress passed a bill that says I don't have to pay my credit cards anymore, just wipe'em clean.

Anyway, I'm not proposing a solution, certainly, because all I really understand is that someone direct-deposits my paycheck and then within 24 hours I send it all away to other people. The only investments I ever had were what my parents left me, and once my children went to college, that was the end of that. The only other thing I know is that I have a contract with the state of New Jersey that says when I retire, they will pay my pension. Government pensions, folks, that's the way to go, especially when you have no idea what you're doing out there.


WATCHING ELLEN :: ENTRY #1909
READING: The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin

Slight Change of Plans

We left Charlottesville this morning and drove to Skyline Drive in the Shenandoah National Park, which was lovely, but you know? Trees and mountains, mountains and trees. (I'll be posting some pictures.) We got to our hotel in Luray a few hours too early to check in, and by the time it was time, we realized there was absolutely nothing to do there (and nowhere to eat), and we were booked for two nights. Hmm. So we canceled that reservation and drove on.

Tonight we find ourselves in Hagerstown, Maryland, just up the road apiece from the Antietam Battlefield, which we'll tour tomorrow and then head home. What can I say, we are Civil War dorks.

----------------------

Yesterday's picture that wouldn't send from the iPhone sent itself the minute we got away from the hotel network -- no idea what that was about -- and here it is:


This is what we bought from a street vendor Wednesday night, a red one for me and a white one for Hubs. Here's what we've been seeing in our travels:

Despite several large signs proclaiming that "Virginia is McCain country!", we have seen slightly more Obama signs than McCain, which has been interesting. Also after we came down off Skyline Drive and were in the real boonies, we saw virtually no political signs of either kind, but once we hit Maryland, we started seeing them again, again, a pretty fair balance. It's Friday, and they're still up there in the front yards, on fenceposts, and so on. It's a fascinating thing.

Oh, and the other sign I saw today that I never expected to see in my life?


Take me home country roads! We passed through West Virginia for twenty minutes between Virginia and Maryland. Thank god the Hubs has a gifted sense of direction, because if I were here on my own, the only way I'd ever get home would be to call him and have him come and get me.

Our lovely offspring, for whom I have been collecting dork history swag at every stop, is a little irritated that we're coming home early. Aw, poor thing. I realize that she has dull parents who never go anywhere and leave the house to her all alone, but you know, it's our house and we live there. And we're bringing her presents. And I miss my own bathroom. (You know how it is.)

Okay, I'm posting and then diving back into the Supreme Court, as it were; it's the book I'm reading. I hope I sleep even remotely like a human being tonight.


WATCHING L/O :: ENTRY #1903
READING: The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin

And Now We Are So Happy, We Do The Dance of Joy

WATCHING THE CELEBRATIONS! :: ENTRY #1900
READING: The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin

Paging Senator McCarthy

I am sick and tired of self-righteous assholes telling me that I am not a "real" American. I am as real as it gets, as real as you, although we may be different in many ways. Liberals are certainly "real", they just disagree with you, morons. I would like to see one of these people tell me face to face exactly why I am less "real" an American than they think they are. Because I had immigrant grandparents? (Everybody had an immigrant somebody.) Because I live on the East Coast? (Look at the census figures. A lot of people live on the East Coast.) Because I'm a liberal? (Haven't we had liberal presidents in the past, too?) Because I'm ... oh. Right. I know what I am. Sooner or later, that's what it comes down to; it always has and it always does. Did I say paging Senator McCarthy? Maybe we should be paging Heinrich Himmler instead.


WATCHING WIFESWAP :: ENTRY #1887
READING: Don't Know Much About History by Kenneth C. Davis

Do I Look Like a Communist To You?

I have to believe that thoughtful people who happen to prefer McCain know that this socialist and "un-American" talk is crap. But I am reminded of yet another classic family story to share with you.

My Uncle Joe and my Grandpa Sam, as I have said, came to America from Vilnius, Lithuania (which they called then Vilna), which was, among other things, a center of Jewish learning in Europe, and a city in which leatherworking was a big trade. Both Joe and Sam were trained to some degree to work with shoes or leather gloves, and when Joe came to America, he actually came with some friends his own age from Vilna, also leatherworkers; they all ended up in an upstate New York town called Gloversville. You can guess what the chief industry there was.

One of the friends who came over with Joe was a guy who took the American name Morris Miller. Here's the backstory on Morris: when he was a very little baby, he and his mother and father lived in a little village -- a shtetl -- in Belarus, near Minsk. Morris' father was a good looking, dashing, literate fellow named Joseph, who did not, at this point in time, take his marriage vows all that seriously. Joseph became quite taken with a young beauty who was visiting relatives in the shtetl, and before long, he had divorced his wife, married the young beauty, and they had a child. (The exact order of these events is not all that clear.) What is clear is that Morris and his half-sister Becky were less than two years apart in age. Which was irrelevant at that time, because Morris's divorced mother picked him up and moved to Vilna, where she had family, where she remarried a widower with a young daughter, and where Morris ended up growing up alongside Joe, and going with him to America.

Now, Morris was ... oh, how shall I put it ... a cranky man. He was a cranky young man, he was a cranky old man, and he was a pain in the ass to virtually anyone who knew him. He had an opinion about every damn thing, and made it clear. He was a pussycat, actually, to his wife, Helen, who had been his step-sister in the old country, and he was Joe's good buddy. The other odd thing that he did was when his various half-brothers and sisters, whom he had never met, started making their way to America, he took them in, one at a time, and got them a start. Within a few years of his arrival, first Becky showed up, and then two more sisters (Rose and Ida); years later, the youngest two of all of the eleven of them made their way over and were taken in and raised by their older sisters. But Morris got them all started. He even introduced his beautiful younger sister Ida to his friend Joe's brother Sam, and my Grandma Ida was married from her brother Morris' home.

I knew Morris when he was old, and he scared the crap out of me, as he had scared my mother all her childhood. He was a dignified, good looking man of about five foot three, with a brushy mustache, and never a kind word for anyone, except Aunt Helen. He lived in the same apartment he had moved to when they all came from Gloversville to New York City around 1916. Joe and his wife Sarah lived on the same block, because he and Morris were buddies, worked together, hung out together. Talked politics together. A lot.

Morris, true to his contrary nature, had started toying with the idea of communism being a good thing. (This was before news of Stalin's atrocities got out to the west.) Joe, who loved, adored, worshipped everything about the U.S. and its way of life and everything it had done for him, was disgusted. Even so, they continued to debate it, until one day, it escalated to the point where Joe asked Morris, Well, if someone gave you your own little store to run, would you still be a communist? Oh no, said Morris, then he would happily embrace capitalism if it meant a personal profit.

Joe was so disgusted at what he saw as an unwillingess to support even his own beliefs -- in essence, someone who had no belief system at all -- that he stopped talking to Morris, and never did again. And vice versa. I remember going into the city to visit family a couple of times as a kid, and everything had to be orchestrated so that we would visit them both -- they lived on the same damn block after all -- but that they wouldn't see each other. You couldn't sit out on Joe's front stoop because Morris might pass by. (And make his sister's life a living hell because we had also visited Joe.)

Anyway. My point, if I have one, is that you need to believe in what you believe in, and you need not to say things that might be hurtful if they're crap and you don't believe in them anyway. Morris never was a communist, he just liked to argue with Joe, but for Joe, America was real and special. Morris liked to see people squirm. He was Not A Nice Man.

According to Kurt Vonnegut, We are what we pretend to be. So we'd better be careful about what we pretend to be.

John McCain, Sarah Palin, Rush Limbaugh: take notice. Be careful. (Although I don't think Limbaugh is pretending.)


WATCHING GOD SAID HA! :: ENTRY #1886
READING: Don't Know Much About History by Kenneth C. Davis

It's a Little Chilly

We had a frost this morning, right on time. It seems that the last few years, we were waiting until after Thanksgiving for the first frost. This is the first year in a long time that the weather seems right to me, that it's all changing and happening according to the right schedule. But I still never know how to dress for work because it could be anything here, so today, I'm cold. I pulled a few of my sweaters down off the storage shelf on Saturday, but not enough of them. I'm wearing today exactly what I would wear on any other day of the year: jeans, t-shirt, button-down shirt open over that. I'm not creative when it comes to clothes.

We had three of the freshman classes in so far -- it's about 11:30 as I type this -- and all went well. I've emailed a bit with R over last night's dinner with the GF, so everyone is happy there. I slept so oddly last night that I can barely keep my head up. I'm having a physical on Friday, and sleeping is something I need to discuss with the doctor, along with a few other details. It always amuses me when I think of my list of ailments, and then conclude that I have to say to the doctor that I'm basically feeling okay. I am. My biggest problem these days is allergies, but I'm hardly alone in that, and I don't know what I can do for them other than what I'm doing. My Crohn's has been pretty quiet, or at least, quietly manageable, for the last six weeks or so. The tylenol I took this morning for the eternal headache is working a little, so I have a bit of a break from that. But in general, I feel okay. It doesn't seem like I should, but I do.

2:45 PM

I just read an article about Rush Limbaugh and who knows who else claiming that Colin Powell's support of Obama is motivated only by race, and that there are no records of him endorsing liberal white candidates with limited experience. An interesting attack. Now what I'd like to see is someone questioning how many of McCain's supporters are motivated by race, as in, how many black candidates have they previously supported? And how many of Obama's other high-profile supporters are white? Sheesh. What a country. (And I don't mean that in the Yaakov Smirnov good way.)

The other thing is what Palin said recently about small towns being ... well, better than other places in this country. First of all, she's a jerk, and second, with a little help from Jon Stewart, I'd like to comment on it, but first, here's what she said:

We believe that the best of America is not all in Washington, D.C. We believe -- We believe that the best of America is in these small towns that we get to visit, and in these wonderful little pockets of what I call the real America, being here with all of you hard working very patriotic, um, very, um, pro-America areas of this great nation. This is where we find the kindness and the goodness and the courage of everyday Americans.

If I recall, we saw the kindness and the goodness and the courage of everyday Americans in New York City following 9/11. She may think that the best of America is in the small towns, but New York City took the big hit, and I don't think they deserve to get trashed for it.This is just mean and unacceptable in a person running to be a potential future president.

My headache is starting to peek in again, and my back is very achy. I just want to get one little errand done after school, but unfortunately it's at the Apple Store, and the Apple Store is at the mall. I could drive a little farther to get to one in a strip mall (easier to park, shorter to walk to), but I'm just too tired. Or I could go home and collapse on the floor and see if that helps my back out some. Then maybe somebody will come by with a feeding tube and I won't even have to get up to eat. Yeah, that's the ticket.


WATCHING FAMILY GUY :: ENTRY #1884
READING: Don't Know Much About History by Kenneth C. Davis

This and That

Even though I've been pretty consistently doing things all day, a lot of it at my desk in the same chair, I'm all over the place. I would say I'm operating in stream of consciousness mode, but it's really more like a series of puddles of consciousness, just hopping from one thing to another. Until about three o'clock, I was doing that thing where you get up and go into another room to do something and when you get there you say out loud "Now why am I here again?" except I wouldn't even remember that I was supposed to be doing something, I'd just see something else in the other room and start doing it. It was very weird.

I had a cup of half-caf after lunch to see if would help my headache -- it did -- but I got all jittery from it and couldn't really do much for about 45 minutes, but I sure was wide awake. I caught up on the week's TV, and when I was better, really got my desk in order, got all my laundry done and put away, that kind of thing. I finished the David Sedaris book last night and haven't decided yet what to read next, but I really am glad I'm back on a good reading track, since I had some kind of attention deficit with that for several years.

I wish the election were over already, although I don't want to see the shitstorm that's going to follow it. I'm starting to think that we should have Sweden or someone come and oversee our elections to make sure they're honestly done. All this voter fraud stuff is too much, and if recent history tells us anything, it's that the Republicans will find ways to have large numbers of votes in Democratic areas declared invalid. (I don't have a link for this, but I remember reading last time that a large number of ballots from our service people overseas were also not counted, which is abominable.) If the stories of voter registration fraud on behalf of Democrats are true, well, that's terrible, too. The name calling is also absurd. No one who is running for president or serving in Congress is a communist or a socialist -- okay, that one representative from Vermont, I think his name is Sanders, is a socialist, but he's upfront about it -- and they are especially not un-American. People need to stop saying that crap; it's just stupid. And really, I'm appalled that McCain's campaign is making those robo-calls and is actually using the same company that made the horrible calls about McCain in 2000. There's something not right there. I just want it to be over.

So, this and that and other stuff, now I'm all farblundget and I can't think of any of the other things I wanted to write about. I need me some ice cream, I'm thinking. Yeah, that's the ticket.

WATCHING L/O: SVU :: ENTRY #1883
READING: uh ... uh ...

Andrew Jackson? Party of One?

You know, as presidents go, we've had some real characters out of the 43 individuals who've held that office. (Okay, I think it's actually 42 individuals, since Grover Cleveland counts as 22 and 24.) For example, Richard Nixon notwithstanding, I think that Warren G. Harding still sets the standard for corruption. 2000 notwithstanding, Rutherford B. Hayes stills sets the standard for election stealing. And all the others notwithstanding, Andrew Jackson still sets the standard for crazy.

He demonstrated his brand of crazy in more ways than I can count, but right up there at the top is that he, you know, killed people, and more often, threatened to kill people. (His killing did not take place while he was in office, and although most of it probably took place when he was a general, he didn't restrict himself to killing enemy troops.) But he threatened people all the time, attacked some, and has generally gone down in history as a man you did not want to be on the bad side of. A scary dude.

All I'm saying is that when people at a political rally shout out "Kill him! Kill him!" when the candidate is talking about the opposition, I really think it's kind of the candidate's place to put a stop to it immediately, and decry that sort of thing as despicable and un-American, as opposed to, y'know, smiling and winking.

I'm just saying.

Okay, so yesterday's alternate title, Fucking Salt Mines, works for today as well, and pretty much is going to work for most of the days that the SCM is there. (That's the silver lining in all the days he's taking off, I guess.) I just feel sad when I'm there. I won't go into everything because hey, that's what I pay a therapist to listen to, and I don't want to revisit it now that I'm home and all is peaceful and I have the kitchen odors of whatever the hell the Hubs is cooking -- I'm not looking -- to keep me company. The SCM and I barely speak, and only on business, so to speak, although we're pleasant when we do. Okay, enough of that.

I've finally begun to plan the little trip the Hubs and I are taking next month. I have the Thursday and Friday after Election Day off, so I'm taking Wednesday too, and we're going to Virginia for a few days. I've never seen Thomas Jefferson's home, Monticello, so we're going to spend a couple of days in Charlottesville, where there seems to be a lot to do, and then a couple of days in the Shenandoah National Park, along Skyline Drive, which is said to be one of the most beautiful places in the country, and we should hit the peak of the fall foliage there. I promise pictures.

House cleaning tomorrow, which, you can be sure, I am not doing myself. But I do have to straighten up first to get stuff out of their way, like the laundry basket in the living room -- I never win that battle for long -- and other things that just need to be put away. So I'll be busy all morning with that.

For those that do, I wish you an easy fast.


WATCHING FRIENDS :: ENTRY #1875
READING: My Lobotomy by Howard Dully and Charles Fleming

Explained

It's not so much politics that I was raised on, but ethics. I've said before, I was possibly four years old when I was first told that Franklin Roosevelt was the savior of the United States of America. My father spoke out against McCarthy and his witch hunt, and telegraphed Edward R. Murrow his support when Murrow exposed that most un-American of senators. I was passionately against the Vietnam War, even when my father, a veteran, maintained his stand that it is right to support your country, no matter what, until he saw enough of the war on TV to realize that this is not always the case. He remembered Nixon and his dirty politics going back to his 1948 run for Congress, and I knew about that, too. He liked Gerald Ford, whom he felt was a good man, but he never trusted Ronald Reagan. ("Always remember," Jack cautioned us, "that he is an actor first.") I have recently talked about my parents' feelings about the racial divide in this country, so I won't go into that again.

That was at home. Talking about politics in public can be dangerous, like talking about religion. (Although for some reason, there are plenty of people these days who have no trouble talking about their religion, and putting it into public policy. Huh.) Talking about politics in public can cause hurt feelings, and more, and so was impolite. Nevertheless, it doesn't stop me, although it does hold me back. Sometimes I hold back here in my diary, too, although there's really no reason to do that because, as so many others before me have pointed out, you don't like what you read, that's what the little x in the box is for. (Or the little red circle, if you're on a Mac.)

I also hold back sometimes because I am extremely passionate about these things, and letting myself run free can get me very charged up. Is that good or bad? I don't know. I do feel that I've made my feelings here pretty clear, but earlier today, I wrote an entry with the title Glass Houses, Stones, and Double Standards, and I didn't explain it. So here we go.

First, I am willing to admit that my own candidate is not perfect, although at the moment, I have no specific example of that. He seems like a stand-up guy. I think some of the charges that the other side throws at him are simply absurd. For example, the idea that either Obama or Biden is an "elitist", whatever that's supposed to be. Let us remember that both McCain and Palin were raised in far more affluent circumstances than either Obama or Biden, and Palin's parents were just middle-class school teachers. Is it "elite" to be accepted into a fine university? I don't think so; isn't that what we would want our children to aspire to? And didn't McCain go to a fine university, at government expense, I might add? Who is the wealthy one in the foursome? We all know that answer, so let it go.

Here's what we need to remember: McCain's campaign is using, or trying to use, a tactic that is time-honored in the Republican party, at least going back to 2000. If they raise enough stupid and pointless issues about the other candidate, they hope it will distract voters from the real issues that are important. It's called swift-boating, remember that? Like when you claim a decorated war hero really wasn't a hero, because you don't want people to think about, oh, THE ILLEGAL WAR IN IRAQ. Right. Imagine what Nixon could have done to Kennedy with this strategy?

Anyway, glass houses. This new attack on Obama, that he hates America because he "pals around" with known terrorists could not be more insane. The known terrorist in this case is a 1960s radical who now is a professor of education in Chicago and who lives in Obama's neighborhood. As Obama has pointed out, when this individual was involved in the acts for which he was criticized, Obama was 8 years old. (And lived in Hawaii, I might add.) What reason could there be for raising such a ridiculous issue if not to distract voters from the mess of the economy -- and McCain's foolish role in it last week -- and the war?

And by the way, glass houses? Stones? What I'd like to know more about is Palin's involvement with the secessionist group in Alaska; that is, the group that wants Alaska to secede from the union. Her husband was a member, and she spoke to the group, "courted" them, said the last article I read. Led by an individual who, to this day, maintains his hatred for the United States and curses the flag. (Not that I don't think "cursing the flag" is an absurd charge against anyone, but you know, if anyone Obama ever knew did it, Palin would be all over him.) So Governor Palin, please, check your own glass walls before you start throwing your stones. You might want to think twice.

Double standard. Or maybe more than double, but this one really gets me, and it's something Bill Maher said on his show Friday night, which I shall paraphrase. Still wondering how much racism has to do with this election? Do you still think Palin is okay, but Obama "doesn't have enough experience" or is "elitist"? Well. First -- this didn't come from Bill Maher -- calling Obama "elitist" is just another way of saying that he is "uppity." It is. If you don't think so, think again.

But this was the eye-opener for me.

You may have seen that video clip of Palin in her church, a minister from Africa praying over her to drive out witches. (I couldn't find a short clip of it on Youtube, but you can find a long one.) Yes. He prayed over her -- she was right there with him -- to make sure she was free of the influence of witches. And people are okay with that. Now, let's imagine for a moment that we had a video clip of the same minister, exact same scene, but he was praying over Barack Obama to cast out witches. Would it look the same to you? (If your answer is Yes, it would have looked incredibly stupid no matter who was in the video, go to the head of the class.) But if you think that it's okay for Palin, but would have looked wrong with Obama, then guess what? That, my friends, is racism. Okay for the nice white lady, a little too jungle fever for the black man? Yes. That's what racism is, the double standard that says okay for white people, not okay for black people.

Please. Do not be distracted by race; be a better American than that. Do not be distracted by lies and half-truths; be smarter than that. If you look at any issue, look at health care. Under McCain's plan, huge numbers of Americans will lose the health care they have now, and if you get your health care from your employer, you will probably be one of them. Read about what his plan is. Look for the explanations from economists as to why it will not work, and will only make insurance companies richer and Americans poorer, or in poorer health, or both. McCain has no interest whatsoever in the average American, and Palin doesn't understand enough about anything to do anything for anybody, unless, of course, you've got a witch problem.

Please. Be thoughtful with your vote. Vote for our future. McCain and Palin are telling you that America is a leader in the world and we can do anything, but our own eyes are telling us that this is no longer true. Obama is the one who wants to restore America to its leadership role, to its true values. Someone needs to put us back on the path that Bush has taken us off of, and McCain is not the man to do it, and neither is Palin. Obama is the man. I see hope in him. Could I be wrong, of course. But I see two choices, and only one of them is a choice I can make. McCain/Palin would only continue this country down its path of disaster. I want a president who believes in the same America I do. And that president is Barack Obama.

(Thanks, Karen. You gave me the strength I needed to write this. XOXO)


WATCHING KING OF THE HILL :: ENTRY #1872
READING: Dear Senator by Essie Mae Washington-Williams

Glass Houses, Stones, and Double Standards

I have really got to stop reading about the campaign because they get me so keyed up. I could write a long entry every single day about the craziness that's going on, which would certainly be annoying to all of you, and although a release for me, not so much fun on this end either. I'm going to let my title stand on its own today and not expand on it, at least for today.

I have a sinus headache that is threatening to work its way out of my face, Alien-style. I don't get migraines, but I do get sinus-triggered migraines, which I expect this to be by tomorrow morning. What gets rid of a really bad sinus headache? In my experience, the key ingredients are a good decongestant, advil, and caffeine. All of which are forbidden to me for one reason or another, but tomorrow, I'll probably start a nasal spray decongestant for a couple of days; I don't think it'll do much, if anything, to my blood pressure. If I'm really in pain, I'll have a cup of real coffee, too; again, one cup won't hurt me that much. Advil, sadly, is all in the past for me, because that would have an immediate and very bad effect. So that's my story.

K is stressing out over the lesson plan she has to write for this week, and I'm being drawn in one way or another. Now, thinking up creative-type lessons is really one of my favorite worky things to do, but trying to meet the requirements of her assignment which wasn't explained well to begin with is not my idea of fun.

It's after six, so I suppose I should eat something or other. I'd like to get my lunch together tonight too, but I think I've done that once since school started, so I probably won't. Not so hard to do in the morning, anyway.

I Love Lucy is on, which is a show I have been watching for literally all of my life. Is this a universal thing? I mean, has everybody born since 1951 been watching I Love Lucy all of their lives? I still think it's funny, that Lucille Ball was a genius (of that sort of thing) and that it was so incredibly well-cast and well-made. I'm just saying. I mean, if there's nothing on, watching I Love Lucy is like putting on a comfortable old robe. I'm just saying.

WATCHING I LOVE LUCY :: ENTRY #1871
READING: Dear Senator by Essie Mae Washington-Williams

Still Here

Yesterday was roughly a thousand hours long. It was a day for me to take R for her colonoscopy (which went very well, found nothing) and to generally drive around, picking her up and later bringing her home, getting food, and a whole lot of waiting around. I did get to finish my Fannie Flagg book, which, btw, you should all read. Her writing is like curling up in a cozy blanket, with cocoa at hand.

Anyway, so in the middle of the R saga, K called from her school that she was having car trouble, but AAA came and sorted that out, so I didn't have to drop R at home at 3:00 to sleep off the rest of her sedation and dash over to pick K up. Which I had been anticipating all day. But it was all okay.

I slept until NINE this morning; can you believe it? Very cool.

Nothing substantial going on here. K is getting very excited about what she's doing, and teaching in general, which is very rewarding for me to see. Not because she's my kid, although I'm certainly happy to see my kid excited about her future career, but that's not what I mean. There are teachers, and there are teachers. There are some people who do it because it's a job with good vacations off, but honestly, I don't know how those people can make themselves do it day after day. Teaching is emotionally demanding, among other things. But there are people who were born to do this, just as there are people who are born to do other things, and it's exciting to recognize that calling, if you will, in the young. It's like watching a brand new baby teacher hatching out of her egg. Not that I haven't seen it in K for years, but now that she's into the meat of it, I can see that it really is what she wants to do. She came home this weekend with papers to grade for her mentor teacher. When my sister and I were little, our Aunt Rose, who taught third grade for what was ultimately 43 years, would let us grade spelling tests and arithmetic quizzes. I guess she saw it in us, too.

Oh, the debate, right. Well. First, pre-debate; let me share this article with you, which recounts Sarah Palin's "annoyance" with Katie Couric because she didn't ask the questions that she (Palin) wanted to answer, and didn't give her an opportunity to bash Obama. Oh, I'm sorry. Is that what she would do with the leader of a foreign country who didn't do things the way she wanted, just be inarticulate and be annoyed? Cause so far, you know, that approach doesn't seem to work with terrorists. In fact, they live to annoy us. So what would she do, just not deal with them until they do it her way? You can send your kids to time-out, but Bin Laden not so much.

The debates, then. First, let me say that I would like them to pass a law in this country, or whatever regulation they need, that says this: POLITICAL CANDIDATES CAN NEVER MENTION THEIR OPPONENTS. THEY CAN ONLY TALK ABOUT THEMSELVES AND THEIR POSITIONS ON THE ISSUES. This is true for both parties. Negative campaigning has got to stop; we don't allow it in high school elections and it does nothing for the voter in real elections except provide sound-bytes and confusion. Next. I thought that Sarah Palin was incredibly rude to Gwen Ifill when she said upfront that she wasn't going to answer the questions she was asked, she was just going to say what she had to say and what, I believe the words were, "the American people want to hear." This American person wants to hear her answer a damn question, just for once. At that point, I think Ifill should have said, "Thank you governor, but the idea here is that I ask questions and you answer them. That's how this works." By not answering questions, she's only showing that she can read the scripted words on the podium, not think on her feet.

The scripted words are just as often lies as not, I think. They make things up to suit the point they're trying to make and hope that no one will catch it, or will listen when the lie is reported. They lie about good things they've done, they lie about bad things the other side has done. Do both sides do this? I'm going to have to say Maybe. I think that McCain is extremely guilty of doing this, and that his team is encouraging Palin to do the same. I have heard Biden apologize for his occasional mis-statements, and Obama may be guilty of this as well and I'm just not aware of it.

Next. Yes, Palin did not do anything that was obviously idiotic, so, credit to her there. But she did not come across as knowledgeable or able in any way. I thought her continued winking to the audience was inappropriate, and I hope Tina Fey gets that right on SNL tonight. She may be a wonderful, wonderful person -- I have some questions there, but they're not really relevant -- but she is not qualified to be president of the United States, and since the Vice-President has only two specific jobs and one of them is to become president if the president can't serve, I think that's really important. And did you notice that McCain didn't even bother to tell her that he was suspending his campaign in Michigan? I don't think he thinks much of her either, and we know that he has previously called his wife the c- word and that during an on-air interview, so I can't imagine he thinks much better of Palin. And what won't he tell her if he's in office and she's his VP? How much will she not know if she has to take over suddenly? My answer would guess all of it. She would not know anything she needs to know. She makes Dan Quayle look like Stephen Hawking.

Joe Biden, on the other hand, really is just a regular guy to me, the closest to it of any of these candidates, really. He shows compassion and feeling, not to mention mastery of the information and understanding of the situations. He is a gentleman and he has class. I like him more every day.

There will be a town-hall meeting style debate this Tuesday, or so the paper says. (What was McCain complaining about?) I want real answers to real questions. I would especially like McCain to explain how his health care plan even is a health care plan, and how it is designed to do anything other than make insurance companies richer and give people less access to health care. Seriously, read about his health care plan. We would all be screwed.

Okay, enough. Now I have to go find more Fannie Flagg to read to calm me down.


WATCHING TWO AND A HALF MEN :: ENTRY #1870
READING: Dear Senator by Essie Mae Washington-Williams

Time Keeps On Slippin'

Or in this case, moving backwards. How is it possible that the SCM left for lunch over two hours ago, but according to the clock on my desk, only FIFTEEN minutes have gone by? FIFTEEN MINUTES? Not possible, I think.

Okay, so it was an interesting morning at home today. K must have gotten up at five or so, but I never saw her at all until I was all done and ready, which was maybe 6:30. I called upstairs just to make sure she was awake -- foolish, foolish me -- and I got the exasperated "WHAT?" in response, so, okay. For the ten minutes that she was in the kitchen before I left, she was not fit for human conversation, so I didn't make any. She was so anxious, poor thing, about her first day at the school where she'll be student teaching. And it's not like she hasn't put in full days substituting before, but this is different. I won't see her until after her class tonight, by which time she should be good and worn out, but I hope, conversational, because I really do want to hear all about her day.

You may or may not remember my quest a couple of years ago to gather posters for the library walls. Well, last spring I learned about a grant that nearly anyone in a school could apply for, which I did and got, and today I received nice big laminated posters of American art, along with a book that helps teachers use them in their classes. I am very psyched, but now I need to figure out how to get them all hung up on the cinderblock walls. I'd like to put them up, each with one of the questions from the teacher's guide next to it. A nice big project that takes time and thought and will really make a noticeable change in the library. Cool.

Oh, Art! I couldn't leave a comment at your site for some reason, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Speaking of time, I was thinking the other day, If I had a time machine, where/when would I go? Not that I'm getting a time machine, of course, but this thought has occurred to me one or twelve times over the years. I always thought that I would go back and spend more time with my grandparents. (More on that in a minute.) But when it buzzed through my head the other day, I thought, Hey, go back to like maybe 1972 -- nineteen was a very good year for me -- and tell me to take better care of myself! I would tell me to exercise, or walk every day, or really, do those Kegel things (you know what those are, ladies), and kick junk food out of my diet then because one day I would just break out in fat, and while I'm at it, don't start smoking, and have a glass of wine with dinner from time to time. And use sunscreen, because there's this atmospheric problem looming on the horizon and we're all gonna get skin cancer if we don't watch out.

Odd thoughts drift through my head as I'm trying to fall asleep, which I suppose is common, but yesterday when I was off, I put my head down to take a nap in the afternoon and all of a sudden, playing through my head as if I had just put the record on, I heard Mary Martin as Peter Pan singing to Wendy, Michael, and Jane: Think. Lovely. Thoughts! Which is what she said after she sprinkled the fairy dust on them and they had to think lovely thoughts to fly, and they said things like candy! and other inconsequential things and then Mary/Peter says "Lovelier thoughts, Michael!" and he beams "Christmas!" and he goes up in the air. So I heard Think. Lovely. Thoughts! and Lovelier thoughts! and I heard my own answers:

Grampa
Parvin
Main Street
Epcot

My first lovely thought is always Grampa Sam, whose mother I wrote about the other day, so I guess he's very fresh in my mind. If there is indeed a heaven, his will be the first face I see when I get there. I could go on and on, but, you know.

Parvin is Parvin State Park in South Jersey, near Vineland. When the kids were small, we went there for vacation, rented a little cabin and otherwise were out in the woods. I think we went four times. It was very peaceful and pleasant there, in many ways. One afternoon there, I was lying on a lounge chair while the Hubs was someplace off with the girls, who were quite little then, and I thought "This is my happy place." It was pre-brain surgery. The year I had the surgery was the year we stopped going.

Main Street, of course, is in the Magic Kingdom at DisneyWorld. When I go through the gates and then I'm on Main Street, it's like I'm filled up with happy.

Epcot. I've probably told this before, but there's a nondescript place just outside the Epcot turnstiles that is special to the Sibs and me. When we went there after my brain surgery, which was also after she'd been through all kinds of stuff, we went to Epcot first, and at this particular spot we both looked at each other and realized that we were thinking the same thing: we made it, we're okay, we're alive, we're really here. I've told my kids that it's where I want them to scatter my ashes, although that probably breaks a million laws.

It's 1:25 now, so time did move some. I'm back from lunch, and about to start going through all my neat art posters.

Later. I went to a site to see what my Palin family name would be. It's Claw. I'm just saying.

I am looking forward to the debate tonight, but really, anything could happen. I keep seeing more bits and pieces of Palin's interview with Katie Couric, and they are nothing if not intriguing. Well, let's save comment on this until tomorrow, eh?

Oh, I miscounted yesterday; I've voted in 10 presidential elections. Which makes my winning percentage worse. Help a pal out, wouldja?

WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1869
READING: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl! by Fannie Flagg

Randomly

Thank you for all the kind words about yesterday's entry. In fact, I have written my family stories in a book (although it didn't occur to me to copy yesterday's story from it; I just wrote it again) which I'm still in the process of re-formatting so I can get it published by one of the online publishers. When I originally wrote it, I actually just printed a copy for each family member I wanted to give one to and had them bound at Kinko's. It's not that long, and is just me telling about each person who has a story. I've mentioned it before. I'm still working on it, although not very diligently.

I just did some thinking, and I thought I'd tell you all that you really really need to vote for Barack Obama because listen: I have voted in nine presidential elections and I've only voted for the winner three times! So, I'm due to vote for a winner again, so please, think of me and cast your vote for Obama. Thank you. (Not to mention all those other reasons, like he's the best candidate and McCain/Palin scares the crap out of me. Thank you.)

Another day off today, and I slept later, but I was very tired all day. Still, I did some straightening up here and there -- no actual cleaning, don't worry, I haven't broken my streak -- and had the guy here to take care of the furnace before heating season starts. Didn't do much else.

K is starting to stress out over tomorrow, which is her first full day in the school she'll be student teaching in come spring. (This semester she has to observe for 60 hours.) She's making her lunch now, and I know will be laying out a half dozen outfits tonight and will end up wearing none of them. And is going in on Friday as well, but let's hope she's calmer after she's gotten one day under her belt. For now, I don't want to go anywhere near the kitchen until she's done, even though my dinner is all made, a nice chicken parmagiana that the kid herself made for dinner last night, so all I have to do is heat it up. But not while she's still in there. But I am starving, man.

Okay, so I'm going to eat a Viactiv calcium chew and hope that holds me over until I can get me some real food. Julia Child wouldn't take this long to make her lunch.



WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1868
READING: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl! by Fannie Flagg

I Want to Go To Sleeeeep NOOOOOOOWW

I'm not, of course; I'm staying up to watch the debate, or at least make sure I record it, because I can't imagine I'll be awake through the whole thing. I keep remembering the presidential debate in 1976. (Yes, I'm old.) Let me recap for you.

It was a debate between Jimmy Carter, who no one had pretty much ever heard of, and Gerald Ford, the incumbent president who had never been elected, but was considered a really nice guy by just about everyone. I was watching the debate alone in my room at th3e graduate students' dorm at Rutgers University. So it's rolling along, and there was some kind of question about Poland, and Soviet influence there, and Ford -- the president -- said something along the lines of "Poland is not under Soviet influence. It never has been. I don't think the people of Poland think they're living under Soviet influence."

It was a huge giant DUH. Jimmy Carter's jaw dropped; it took him a minute to come up with a response. I don't remember who was moderating, but he was speechless, too, and everyone in the audience just watched like it was a car wreck. I yanked open the door of my room and ran into the hallway, where every door was opening and suddenly people who never spoke to each other were all asking "Did you see that? Did you SEE that? Did you see THAT?"

It was a moment. Perhaps there will be such a one tonight. It was considered a significant event in Ford's loss to Carter in the election.

Anyway, moving on. I am just too tired; I hope I sleep tonight. Once Bill Maher's show is on, I should be good. I love that show, but it always puts me to sleep, and I record it, so after it's been on, if I wake up again I just start it over, and it runs in a loop all night, which is good for me. I'll actually watch the show tomorrow when I'm sitting up at my desk. Tonight should be a good one, too, right after the debate.

I just ate some baked fish that I had in the freezer, and I am still starving. I've got another piece in there, but I don't know. I really do need some gourmet chef from somewhere to get into the habit of stopping by my house every day around five with leftovers from all the classes he's taught that day. Yeah, that's the ticket. That would work.

My cousin sent me some more pictures from the wedding, so now I actually have a few of the bride and groom. Nice, since I didn't actually take any of them myself. There were other pictures, too, and my daughters, of course, look beautiful. I look, in a word, fat. In another word, old. Although now that I look at them again, I can't say I look especially disfigured in them, which is how I see myself in most pictures, so I guess that's good. And I don't think I actually was fat, I think that I turn my head a certain way when I'm being photographed to avoid the whole disfigured thing, and it makes my face look wider, somehow. Of course, the double chin doesn't enhance anything, but that's not fat, that's genetics; my mother had a double chin when she weighted 110 pounds. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.


WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS :: ENTRY #1864
READING: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl! by Fannie Flagg