Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Well besides myself, at least we know Kerry also reads the NY Times. Or his aides do. In a recent speech, Kerry makes reference to horses and when you should change them...." Oh something to the effect that if your horse is leading you down a creek towards a raging waterfall below then, well...
Kerry has to have read William Saffire's recent op-ed: How Kerry Can Turn It Around. The coincidence is just too great.
Kerry has to have read William Saffire's recent op-ed: How Kerry Can Turn It Around. The coincidence is just too great.
Monday, September 27, 2004
Not to beat a dead horse but the spin that the Bush gang still tries to put on the Iraq war is such an affront to the intellectual senses that it makes you think you're in some kind of retro-politburo matrix movie.
Millions of people around the world demonstrated in order that we might avoid just what has come to pass. Yet the stubborn, arrogant, and horribly misinformed Bush administration plowed ahead anyway. And now look what we've got. Their recklessness is responsible for the killing and maiming of thousands of soldiers and innocent Iraqis. Their recklessness has squandered the little good standing the US had left in the world. Their recklessness will have economic ramifications for generations to come. None good. Meanwhile not a single WMD anywhere. Insurgent uprisings everywhere. A justifiably mistrustful world community. An enraged new generation of wanna-be terrorists. A spiraling deficit. And unfathomable amounts of money burning in the wind as Americans at home struggle to make ends meet and afford health care.
World-wide demonstrations were of no avail in deterring the present disaster. The US press has been more or less the administration's lap dog and pathetically ineffective in educating the American public about what is at stake. What to do, what to do... Wait a minute. I think I've got it. For starters we could vote Bush the hell out of office.... As President Roosevelt once said to Hoover after the crash, "Change horses or drown!"
Millions of people around the world demonstrated in order that we might avoid just what has come to pass. Yet the stubborn, arrogant, and horribly misinformed Bush administration plowed ahead anyway. And now look what we've got. Their recklessness is responsible for the killing and maiming of thousands of soldiers and innocent Iraqis. Their recklessness has squandered the little good standing the US had left in the world. Their recklessness will have economic ramifications for generations to come. None good. Meanwhile not a single WMD anywhere. Insurgent uprisings everywhere. A justifiably mistrustful world community. An enraged new generation of wanna-be terrorists. A spiraling deficit. And unfathomable amounts of money burning in the wind as Americans at home struggle to make ends meet and afford health care.
World-wide demonstrations were of no avail in deterring the present disaster. The US press has been more or less the administration's lap dog and pathetically ineffective in educating the American public about what is at stake. What to do, what to do... Wait a minute. I think I've got it. For starters we could vote Bush the hell out of office.... As President Roosevelt once said to Hoover after the crash, "Change horses or drown!"
Thursday, September 23, 2004
A pleasant and breezy seventy-eight degrees Fahrenheit. A crystal-clear view to the Boston skyline. A reservoir at the foot of the hill to watch the egrets and blue herons. And Anna Bloviation's, the sun worshipper, sitting with a colleague on lounge chairs from ten until four watching most of 140 men make fools of themselves trying to get a ball into a hole on the fourteenth. In addition I made them all pay to do it. For five bucks, they got a chance at half of the the evening raffle kitty if they made it onto the green. Only ten of them did so.
The day was only slightly marred by the wise-cracking 6th hole, whose volunteers thought it would be funny if they promised that the players buying a ticket for that hole's contest could redeem it for a kiss at ours. So along came 140 golfers of Italian or Irish politically-incorrect descent looking for Anna or Lainey. The old timers were fun to tease around with. It was the sleazy lobbyists that took more doing as they seemed to really believe they were entitled to a kiss.
I'd like to think I was a good mentor to my young single colleague who watched me one by one deflate the would-be hopefuls of their leaching aspirations (while still keeping them in good enough spirits to fork over money for the 50/50 contest we were overseeing). Not that they gave up easily. At least not the lobbyists who all seem to have a very hard time taking no for an answer and which is why I suppose they get the big bucks. One told me he would split the $360 kitty he had just won with me for a kiss. I leaned in towards him and whispered, "There isn't enough money on the planet that I would give you a kiss." Then an upwards gleaming crescent of pearly white to make him wonder if I really meant it or not. This is a key element to the insult given that I do have to work with these people on a daily basis...
The ring leader on the 6th was a bit surprised that we took in more cash than they did at the end of the day. Our rectitudinous behavior prevailed over their lasciviousness! Tee hee. And a very big wink. And thanks Ann Taylor. You provide excellent camouflage....
The day was only slightly marred by the wise-cracking 6th hole, whose volunteers thought it would be funny if they promised that the players buying a ticket for that hole's contest could redeem it for a kiss at ours. So along came 140 golfers of Italian or Irish politically-incorrect descent looking for Anna or Lainey. The old timers were fun to tease around with. It was the sleazy lobbyists that took more doing as they seemed to really believe they were entitled to a kiss.
I'd like to think I was a good mentor to my young single colleague who watched me one by one deflate the would-be hopefuls of their leaching aspirations (while still keeping them in good enough spirits to fork over money for the 50/50 contest we were overseeing). Not that they gave up easily. At least not the lobbyists who all seem to have a very hard time taking no for an answer and which is why I suppose they get the big bucks. One told me he would split the $360 kitty he had just won with me for a kiss. I leaned in towards him and whispered, "There isn't enough money on the planet that I would give you a kiss." Then an upwards gleaming crescent of pearly white to make him wonder if I really meant it or not. This is a key element to the insult given that I do have to work with these people on a daily basis...
The ring leader on the 6th was a bit surprised that we took in more cash than they did at the end of the day. Our rectitudinous behavior prevailed over their lasciviousness! Tee hee. And a very big wink. And thanks Ann Taylor. You provide excellent camouflage....
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Well it had to happen once and I can pretty much guarantee you it will never happen again. It is 7 p.m. and I am still at the State House. Other than my buddy, Fritz the Mouse, I do believe I am absolutely the only mensch here. But before you go thinking your tax dollars were hard at work, let me just say that the only reason I am here is that technology failed me once again. Unable to upload a large Publisher File to Kinko's ftp site, I had to f***** print all 140 two-sided golf tournament program brochures due bright-and-early tomorrow morning for the Rep. You are absolutely right that I am not supposed to be doing such activities here at the State House but these were extenuating circumstances. Heh, it's for a good cause. Thanks tax payers.
Now I just have to figure out where the lone exit is they keep open at this time of night... Good grief, please let me find my way out....
Now I just have to figure out where the lone exit is they keep open at this time of night... Good grief, please let me find my way out....
Monday, September 20, 2004
NORTH CAROLINA ROCKS... Would you pay $25 for five of these North Carolina rocks to put in your garden? They are SPECIAL rocks mind you. MUCH different from the tons of New England rocks already available here for cheap...Geez, just call me a sucker with an upper-case 'S'. Next year I'll have pretty, expensive annuals in that brown mulched area you see. Meanwhile I've just spent $1500 for a summer's worth of cutting and mulching.... Like I said: Supply and Demand = what things are worth. Bye, bye cleaning lady. Bye, bye Clinique lipstick.
Supply and Demand = the worth of things.... No one seems to bat an eyelash anymore at paying $1.25 for nine meager ounces of bottled water. That, my friends, is what happens when a world population of 6,394,000,000 starts competing vigorously for what is becoming a very precious commodity indeed. I envision that just about the time we've sucked up the last dinosaur fossil, the water-rich countries will be decrying the imperialistic intentions of water-thirsty nations who will suddenly begin demonstrating a keen interest in their 'liberation.'
Speaking of worth. How about walking by a yard sale on my dog walk and picking up two brand new Crate & Barell hammered brass lamps (with a retail value of $215 each) for five bucks a piece? I gave the guy the two dollars I had in my pocket (to buy a bottled water) as a deposit and went by later to pick them up. This phenomenon is called two singles marrying and having only a finite amount of room for so-and-so many Crate & Barell lamps the one or the other has purchased on a whim. I wonder if the lamps were his or hers.... I'm guessing his.
I suppose equally baffling to many would be the idea of spending $25 for five rather-regular-roundish-rocks -- another one of yesterday's expenditures. Why? A previous owner to our house must have decided that only North Carolina rocks would do for the low retaining-border in the garden as opposed to the quarry-full of available (and cheap) rocks located right here in Massachusetts. Absolutely absurd really. But what's a woman with North Carolina rocks in her garden to do? I know, I know. Find the rocks she's lost from her head and use those. Nonetheless I forked over the money:
"Oh come on," I complained. Twenty-five bucks for rocks?"
"I have to pay for my new boat," he smiled.
"I have to pay college expenses," I suggested.
"Nice Rolex," he replied.
Speaking of worth. How about walking by a yard sale on my dog walk and picking up two brand new Crate & Barell hammered brass lamps (with a retail value of $215 each) for five bucks a piece? I gave the guy the two dollars I had in my pocket (to buy a bottled water) as a deposit and went by later to pick them up. This phenomenon is called two singles marrying and having only a finite amount of room for so-and-so many Crate & Barell lamps the one or the other has purchased on a whim. I wonder if the lamps were his or hers.... I'm guessing his.
I suppose equally baffling to many would be the idea of spending $25 for five rather-regular-roundish-rocks -- another one of yesterday's expenditures. Why? A previous owner to our house must have decided that only North Carolina rocks would do for the low retaining-border in the garden as opposed to the quarry-full of available (and cheap) rocks located right here in Massachusetts. Absolutely absurd really. But what's a woman with North Carolina rocks in her garden to do? I know, I know. Find the rocks she's lost from her head and use those. Nonetheless I forked over the money:
"Oh come on," I complained. Twenty-five bucks for rocks?"
"I have to pay for my new boat," he smiled.
"I have to pay college expenses," I suggested.
"Nice Rolex," he replied.
Friday, September 17, 2004
THIS WEEK'S COLLEGE ANECDOTES
Oh the daughter is a delicious one... My morning email from college today:
Daughter: Good morning slut. Call me when you get into work
Love,
(your wonderful daughter)
Jxxxx
Me: I just tried to call you but you weren't there. You were obviously too busy sleeping around campus. Call me. Your adoring Mom.
Daughter: Well excuse me, i just tried you back but you are obviously already on your lunch break. I forgot that it was ALREADY almost eleven o'clock. Call me back when you can squeeze me into your 'hectic' work schedule.
Me: I was on the phone when you tried to call you ditz. I'll call you as soon as I'm done. You could probably get one more blow-job in if you hurry...
Oh don't be so shocked my readers. She is a straight-A kid with a good heart and very level-headed. OK and she has her mother's wicked sense of humor occasionally.
The son called the other night and asked immediately (and rather urgently) to speak to his father. 'Oh shit, now what?' I'm thinking to myself. Usually I am the go-to person for the catastrophe d'etat so I'm thinking this must be REALLY serious if he wants to talk to his dad. Reason for calling? Wanted to know how to prepare a good steak. Oh yes I've done a good job indeed. It wouldn't occur to him in a thousand years to ask his mother for cooking tips. Steaks? There have to be girls involved.
Oh the daughter is a delicious one... My morning email from college today:
Daughter: Good morning slut. Call me when you get into work
Love,
(your wonderful daughter)
Jxxxx
Me: I just tried to call you but you weren't there. You were obviously too busy sleeping around campus. Call me. Your adoring Mom.
Daughter: Well excuse me, i just tried you back but you are obviously already on your lunch break. I forgot that it was ALREADY almost eleven o'clock. Call me back when you can squeeze me into your 'hectic' work schedule.
Me: I was on the phone when you tried to call you ditz. I'll call you as soon as I'm done. You could probably get one more blow-job in if you hurry...
Oh don't be so shocked my readers. She is a straight-A kid with a good heart and very level-headed. OK and she has her mother's wicked sense of humor occasionally.
The son called the other night and asked immediately (and rather urgently) to speak to his father. 'Oh shit, now what?' I'm thinking to myself. Usually I am the go-to person for the catastrophe d'etat so I'm thinking this must be REALLY serious if he wants to talk to his dad. Reason for calling? Wanted to know how to prepare a good steak. Oh yes I've done a good job indeed. It wouldn't occur to him in a thousand years to ask his mother for cooking tips. Steaks? There have to be girls involved.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
PRIMARY WRAP: Most incumbents got a free ride around the State of Massachusetts yesterday. Three House Democrats were defeated during Tuesday's primary contests, which were notable for the lack of competition and low voter turnout. How else to account for the fact that Rep. Paul Kujawski took more than 73 percent of the vote even so he is facing criminal charges for drunken driving and lewd behavior? At least they were awake in Springfield where Rep. Christopher Asselin got trounced in his primary. He is, after all, under indictment with other family members in an alleged housing authority scandal. Nonetheless, he got 15 percent of the vote.
I voted. Did I not work here, I probably would have voted for the incumbent Representative where I live. But I didn't. Nice enough guy but he doesn't do a damn thing around here. He won handedly however. When I told my boss I hadn't voted for this Rep he was astonished. "But you work with him all the time. How could you not vote for him?" "Easy," I replied. "I work with him." The question I knew my boss's politician ego couldn't help but ask came, "So if I were your Representative would you vote for me?" "Probably not Rep. Sorry."
I voted. Did I not work here, I probably would have voted for the incumbent Representative where I live. But I didn't. Nice enough guy but he doesn't do a damn thing around here. He won handedly however. When I told my boss I hadn't voted for this Rep he was astonished. "But you work with him all the time. How could you not vote for him?" "Easy," I replied. "I work with him." The question I knew my boss's politician ego couldn't help but ask came, "So if I were your Representative would you vote for me?" "Probably not Rep. Sorry."
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Here is Anna Bloviation's office in the 'California' house she found in New England. Is it any wonder she doesn't want to come into her State House basement office anymore?
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
The Oh-so-Strange Sensitivity Factor. Living on a main street for fifteen years, one adapts in one's own way to the incessant sound of cars driving by at 30-mph-plus speeds 24/7, 365 days a year. There are all kinds of tricks people on main roads try. They plant evergreen hedges, erect fences, install triple-pane glass windows, and insulate their walls; but at the end of the day nothing really helps. If you go out to your garden to entertain, you have a main street's worth of traffic and all of the deafening noise that goes with it on your dinner plate. And sadly all the Martha Stewart ambiance you might want to conjure up for the evening can't make the bad noise go away....
The exception to all of this is of course children who have grown up on a main street e.g. our kids. They simply never heard the noise we complained about for years.
Now that we live on a quiet street, sound takes on new meaning. And how quickly doth the body change its sensibilities! Take the computer fan, for instance. In our old house it served as 'white noise.' To some extent it drowned out the un-rhythmic whoosh of a car or truck going by every few seconds or minutes. But now I hear the fan and it is a noise that absolutely has to be turned off before I go to bed. Now the occasional car that drives up our road is an event that makes you look up from your work. The soon-to-be replaced refrigerator is noisy but never a noise I noticed in the old house.
And now the quantum leap to politics... 1,000 soldiers-plus dead in Iraq and a constant onslaught of media spin and I find myself feeling a bit like the person who grew up in the house next to the train station....
The exception to all of this is of course children who have grown up on a main street e.g. our kids. They simply never heard the noise we complained about for years.
Now that we live on a quiet street, sound takes on new meaning. And how quickly doth the body change its sensibilities! Take the computer fan, for instance. In our old house it served as 'white noise.' To some extent it drowned out the un-rhythmic whoosh of a car or truck going by every few seconds or minutes. But now I hear the fan and it is a noise that absolutely has to be turned off before I go to bed. Now the occasional car that drives up our road is an event that makes you look up from your work. The soon-to-be replaced refrigerator is noisy but never a noise I noticed in the old house.
And now the quantum leap to politics... 1,000 soldiers-plus dead in Iraq and a constant onslaught of media spin and I find myself feeling a bit like the person who grew up in the house next to the train station....
Monday, September 13, 2004
Controversial Pictures -- for me anyway... I sent out a mass email of our new California-esque house. Which mind you friends and family had requested. But it's kind of an odd thing to do if you think about it. Does anyone really want to see pictures of your house? So I tried to make it a bit funny i.e. Anna Bloviation's-from-California-finds-a-sliver-of-California in New England kind of thing. She shows examples of the truly Californian house she found in the midst of Colonials. And the California-style garden that goes with it (at least in spring and summer before everything goes barren). She shows the California-esque beach that exists up in Ipswich, MA. Here is perhaps where the (internal) controversy begins... The picture of the beach had a picture of me walking on the beach in short-shorts and a tank-top. So what. Right? But when you are doing a mass mailing....It's again a bit odd once you start checking off the addresses to which you will be sending the picture. Mom won't care. Nor will so-and-so friend. Hmmm.... But what about former co-worker so-and-so. Or hubby's co-worker? Or your strange brother-in-law. Oh, what-the-f***. Deal with it. I'm sending you what I think is a funny story. The story of a mad Californian trying to re-create California in frigid New England. She finds a beach that reminds her of California and I'm on it with ass-hugging shorts. And she shows the picture of just how delusional she is i.e. the car-high snowstorm of last year with distraught daughter trying to find the door handle beneath all the snow. And she knows that some will look at the picture and wonder why she is sending a picture of her ass.
Friday, September 10, 2004
On second thought... What other job except this one would allow me to say to my boss, "I'm going to work from home today. I've decided we should send out a reminder postcard for the upcoming golf tournament. I'll design it on Publisher at home and see you on Monday. Maybe." Or, "Oh by the way, I'm going to Ireland the first week of October. You'll need to plan on coming in to help hold down the fort with Tom."
If I could finnagle it so that I can work from my new beautiful home and/or be out in the district 75% of the time I think I could wing this thing for a while longer. Just maybe go into Boston now and again so that I can dress up in pointy sexy shoes, check the mail, and meet a friend for lunch. That's the ticket I think. Oh yes, and meanwhile stop making excuses why I can't write my book.
If I could finnagle it so that I can work from my new beautiful home and/or be out in the district 75% of the time I think I could wing this thing for a while longer. Just maybe go into Boston now and again so that I can dress up in pointy sexy shoes, check the mail, and meet a friend for lunch. That's the ticket I think. Oh yes, and meanwhile stop making excuses why I can't write my book.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Didn't getting named a Boston civil servant by Hominy Grits make me strap on one of two pairs of pointy sexy shoes I own this morning. And my Matrix black raincoat for good measure. You see I'm just not liking the adjectives swirling around me of late... empty nester bitching Boston civil servant. Ouch. That has pasty stupid hag written all over it. Who hasn't been to the gym in about two months either. I would like to think I am none of these things nor do I particularly want to become any of them. Two years ago at least I had the title of VP of Fun (really), a couple of admirers, and change-the-world idealism. Time to get back on my game. Don't need the admirers per se but the rest, yes.
Not that helping constituents isn't very fulfilling, and there is a LOT of flexibility to this job I wouldn't have somewhere else. However at what cost? I'm sitting in a quasi-basement surrounded by people who have made careers getting good at nothing. And little Fritz the Mouse, while more intellectually stimulating than my colleague, really gets tiresome after a while. At the end of the day, it's all about crumbs, crumbs, crumbs.
Not that helping constituents isn't very fulfilling, and there is a LOT of flexibility to this job I wouldn't have somewhere else. However at what cost? I'm sitting in a quasi-basement surrounded by people who have made careers getting good at nothing. And little Fritz the Mouse, while more intellectually stimulating than my colleague, really gets tiresome after a while. At the end of the day, it's all about crumbs, crumbs, crumbs.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Critiqued blogger Hominy Grits: "Anna Bloviation's is more of your traditional personal web journal sort of thing. No pretensions here, just a civil servant in Boston bitching about stuff. Nice change of pace."
Jesus fookin' Mary, as my beloved Irish folk would say. A civil servant in Boston bitching about stuff.... Yes, that's JUST want I wanted to be renowned for. Thanks Hominy. You've motivated me to start looking for a new job as of today. I'll be damned if my Urn-of-Ashes is one day inscribed 'bitching Boston civil servant.' If that happened it would mean that I had hid out for eons of years here at the State House amongst the pasty solitaire players and Fritz the Mouse until attaining my meager state pension. It would mean that I had whiled away the dead State House summers surfing the Internet all day long. God, it horrifies me to think what everyone did around here before there was Internet. Like how has my colleague stood it for all of these years?As far as the bitching about stuff goes, I'd frankly rather be known as an Outright Bitch than someone who bitches. The latter sounds so whinny.
This morning, for instance, I was an Outright Bitch. As I was trying to cross the pedestrian crosswalk to work, a blonde sun-glassed female in a black SUV sped up towards me i.e. You're going to wait while I ride up the road because it would be too bothersome if I had to brake. I stopped square in the middle of the crosswalk and glared at her. The hell I f***** am, I thought and dramatically gestured to the zebra stripes beneath my feet. When I was good and ready, I continued on my way whereby she rolled down her window and yelled that it was up to me to watch the traffic. Said I, "Take your gas guzzling wrong ass back up to the suburbs and start studying your driving manual, [you expletive]." I shouted this into her ear because I was so mad I actually approached her vehicle that she had momentarily stopped behind a car. You just can't escape your genes -- even at forty-four. In this case I can't escape my father who had a penchant for occasional bar brawls.... She drove on which was a good thing for I can see the headlines now:
AIDE TO REP. X AND SUV DRIVER HAVE KNOCK-OUT FISTFIGHT ON CROSSWALK TO STATE HOUSE OVER RIGHT-OF-WAY
or
AIDE TO REP. X GOES BALLISTIC -- PULLS SUV DRIVER'S FAKE BLONDE HAIR AND DEFLATES SUV TIRES WITH NAIL CLIPPERS
you get the picture...
Jesus fookin' Mary, as my beloved Irish folk would say. A civil servant in Boston bitching about stuff.... Yes, that's JUST want I wanted to be renowned for. Thanks Hominy. You've motivated me to start looking for a new job as of today. I'll be damned if my Urn-of-Ashes is one day inscribed 'bitching Boston civil servant.' If that happened it would mean that I had hid out for eons of years here at the State House amongst the pasty solitaire players and Fritz the Mouse until attaining my meager state pension. It would mean that I had whiled away the dead State House summers surfing the Internet all day long. God, it horrifies me to think what everyone did around here before there was Internet. Like how has my colleague stood it for all of these years?As far as the bitching about stuff goes, I'd frankly rather be known as an Outright Bitch than someone who bitches. The latter sounds so whinny.
This morning, for instance, I was an Outright Bitch. As I was trying to cross the pedestrian crosswalk to work, a blonde sun-glassed female in a black SUV sped up towards me i.e. You're going to wait while I ride up the road because it would be too bothersome if I had to brake. I stopped square in the middle of the crosswalk and glared at her. The hell I f***** am, I thought and dramatically gestured to the zebra stripes beneath my feet. When I was good and ready, I continued on my way whereby she rolled down her window and yelled that it was up to me to watch the traffic. Said I, "Take your gas guzzling wrong ass back up to the suburbs and start studying your driving manual, [you expletive]." I shouted this into her ear because I was so mad I actually approached her vehicle that she had momentarily stopped behind a car. You just can't escape your genes -- even at forty-four. In this case I can't escape my father who had a penchant for occasional bar brawls.... She drove on which was a good thing for I can see the headlines now:
AIDE TO REP. X AND SUV DRIVER HAVE KNOCK-OUT FISTFIGHT ON CROSSWALK TO STATE HOUSE OVER RIGHT-OF-WAY
or
AIDE TO REP. X GOES BALLISTIC -- PULLS SUV DRIVER'S FAKE BLONDE HAIR AND DEFLATES SUV TIRES WITH NAIL CLIPPERS
you get the picture...
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
The Kiwi Grill in Newburyport is where we found ourselves the other evening. For three reasons. One: I'd been carrying around two coupons to two free glasses of wine for months and finally wanted to redeem them. Two: Loved the sampling of food I had tasted when this restaurant came to visit the State House on 'New Zealand Day.' I wanted to try more. Three: Hadn't been up to Newburyport in ages and wanted to make sure the place checked out given that I had just recommended to hubby's employee that she move there upon her relocation to Massachusetts. She is my age, Irish, divorced, auburn-hair beautiful, vivacious, and devoutly Catholic (but still fun). Interesting woman too. Lived in South Africa for a while. Worked for Jordan's King Hussein for a while. Yes really. We weighed the ups (charming downtown, beautiful seaport and boardwalk, a theater, lots of coffee shops and restaurants) and the downs (a 45-minute drive to work, touristy in the summer, too many candle shops, and the weekend sailing crowd that comes in on the weekends to drink at the Black Cow potentially a bit sketchy [salty?]). The pros beat out the cons and the town passed muster. Especially after dining at the Kiwi Grill which I can only describe as a sermon-boring steeple of yore turned restaurant of delectable cuisine and delicious wines. Two thumbs up.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Now that I'm pretty sure Bush is going to win come November, it's time to hunker down and create a delusion within a reality i.e. I'm zeroing in on the dandelions and the mundane to keep the mind off of soldiers the age of my son dying in Iraq (for what?), freedoms this administration would take away (via the Patriot Act), pristine land it would bulldoze in its quest to quelch its oil-thirsty obsession (when Bush says he wants America to be less dependent on foreign oil at the RNC he means Hello Alaska here we come..), and a rear-view mirror vision of America that would designate gays and liberals to a god-forsaken state of their own were it possible.
OK I can do this. "Honey, our nice neighbor next door -- you know the avid gardener -- says we might want to pull out the vines creeping up into the cypress tree." Hubby climbs up on a ladder and pulls out vines en masse. He then puts in a new side door to the garage which is the most god awful looking piece of crap I've ever seen -- a door picked out by hubby and the local lumber store during a momentary lapse of Anna's vigil. "So how does it look?" asks hubby. I try for fifteen seconds to hold my tongue but it's of no use. "We live in a Richard Neumanesque contemporary house now you know... That door looks like something you'd install in a newly built suburban sprawl tract house trying for the Victorian/Art Deco/Colonial/Federalist/Baroque kitsch look. I bet the value of our house has gone down 100K because of that door."
Disappointing when one considers my days-long online search to find a replacement toilet seat to match the Eljer-blue toilet of 5o's yore. I found it at least but not before I came across this depressing sight: toilet seats for the growing population.....
OK I can do this. "Honey, our nice neighbor next door -- you know the avid gardener -- says we might want to pull out the vines creeping up into the cypress tree." Hubby climbs up on a ladder and pulls out vines en masse. He then puts in a new side door to the garage which is the most god awful looking piece of crap I've ever seen -- a door picked out by hubby and the local lumber store during a momentary lapse of Anna's vigil. "So how does it look?" asks hubby. I try for fifteen seconds to hold my tongue but it's of no use. "We live in a Richard Neumanesque contemporary house now you know... That door looks like something you'd install in a newly built suburban sprawl tract house trying for the Victorian/Art Deco/Colonial/Federalist/Baroque kitsch look. I bet the value of our house has gone down 100K because of that door."
Disappointing when one considers my days-long online search to find a replacement toilet seat to match the Eljer-blue toilet of 5o's yore. I found it at least but not before I came across this depressing sight: toilet seats for the growing population.....
Friday, September 03, 2004
What rapture on the faces of the RNC delegates as they listened to Bush's speech last night. Not so much in part 1 where he talked about his domestic agenda (probably because deep in every Republican's heart, he or she knows Bush's proposed programs can't be funded. Not with an out-of-control deficit and further tax cuts. Come on. How would all of these programs be paid for? No the rapture came in part 2 of Bush's speech. The part where he evoked Hollywoodesque images of the 'good' guy standing tough and always prevailing. Who doesn't want to believe that? It's just too bad the world isn't a Hollywood movie...
Liberals: Un-surround yourself by friends and media outlets which reinforce what you want to hear and listen to the heartland. Listen to the brilliance of the cohesive Republican strategy: 'you may not like everything about us, but we'll keep you alive.' Hmmm. Compelling. Very compelling. Especially when you paint the other guy as a total flip-flopper -- which really isn't that hard given Kerry's record.
It's blasphemy. And very negative of me to say this. But I really think Bush is going to get his four more years...
Liberals: Un-surround yourself by friends and media outlets which reinforce what you want to hear and listen to the heartland. Listen to the brilliance of the cohesive Republican strategy: 'you may not like everything about us, but we'll keep you alive.' Hmmm. Compelling. Very compelling. Especially when you paint the other guy as a total flip-flopper -- which really isn't that hard given Kerry's record.
It's blasphemy. And very negative of me to say this. But I really think Bush is going to get his four more years...
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Hard reconciliations when you note that your son isn't a man you would necessarily want to know as a woman. Don't get me wrong. He is more like me than I care to admit and so I have to love the bastard on some levels.
The college freshman daughter called to coo about her very nice brother who bothered to invite her and her roommates out the first night in D.C. They had a grand time at a club. All got in with state-of-the-art fake I.D.'s pre-requisite to college entrance. A wonderful time they had and didn't her brother invite them out again the next night. To his friends he introduced his sister as, "This is my little sister." A show stopper as far as she was concerned in terms of hooking up with a guy in D.C. Not that her brother had any problem asking out his sister's new roommate on a date.
"What a sketch he is," complained the daughter. "Kind of awkward don't you think?"
"Don't get involved," I said. "If she comes crying on your shoulder once she realizes what a sketch he is, just draw your forefinger and thumb across your lips. Contrarily if she starts two-timing your brother for whatever reason, go to the gym for a work-put and play dumb."
So basically the son was into a raw meat play... Either these two will be buddy siblings at the end of their college careers or bloody murder each other. Kind of like when the were five and seven and nearly strangled one another for breathing the other's air...
The college freshman daughter called to coo about her very nice brother who bothered to invite her and her roommates out the first night in D.C. They had a grand time at a club. All got in with state-of-the-art fake I.D.'s pre-requisite to college entrance. A wonderful time they had and didn't her brother invite them out again the next night. To his friends he introduced his sister as, "This is my little sister." A show stopper as far as she was concerned in terms of hooking up with a guy in D.C. Not that her brother had any problem asking out his sister's new roommate on a date.
"What a sketch he is," complained the daughter. "Kind of awkward don't you think?"
"Don't get involved," I said. "If she comes crying on your shoulder once she realizes what a sketch he is, just draw your forefinger and thumb across your lips. Contrarily if she starts two-timing your brother for whatever reason, go to the gym for a work-put and play dumb."
So basically the son was into a raw meat play... Either these two will be buddy siblings at the end of their college careers or bloody murder each other. Kind of like when the were five and seven and nearly strangled one another for breathing the other's air...
Gee Mom when I grow up I want to live 12- by 10-foot glass box with 6,000 scorpions for 36 consecutive days....
OK this my French bashers should like:
Alabama, France of the South
If the European Union were a U.S. state, it would rank forty-seventh in per capita GDP, according to a report from Timbro, a Swedish free-market think tank. (Yes, there really is one.) In annual income the average European is on a par with residents of Mississippi, West Virginia, and Arkansas. (And the report excludes the newer, poorer EU nations of Eastern Europe.) The picture isn't much rosier even in wealthier European states like France and Britain, both of which have per capita GDPs slightly lower than Alabama's. Only tiny Luxembourg scores better than the American average. The United States' material advantage extends beyond income: Americans spend 77 percent more annually than Europeans, own more appliances, and (presumably thanks to our wide open spaces) have homes providing, on average, 721 square feet per person—nearly twice the average size of European residences. The study's authors allow that fast-growing GDP is "not the be all and end all of happiness and prosperity," citing more "intangible" (and quintessentially European) factors such as equality, leisure time, and the environment. But they note, with a defensiveness undoubtedly endemic among Swedish free-marketeers, that "material resources" are a "precondition of much of the wellbeing which people like to call intangible."
Fredrik Bergström and Robert Gidehag, Timbro
OK this my French bashers should like:
Alabama, France of the South
If the European Union were a U.S. state, it would rank forty-seventh in per capita GDP, according to a report from Timbro, a Swedish free-market think tank. (Yes, there really is one.) In annual income the average European is on a par with residents of Mississippi, West Virginia, and Arkansas. (And the report excludes the newer, poorer EU nations of Eastern Europe.) The picture isn't much rosier even in wealthier European states like France and Britain, both of which have per capita GDPs slightly lower than Alabama's. Only tiny Luxembourg scores better than the American average. The United States' material advantage extends beyond income: Americans spend 77 percent more annually than Europeans, own more appliances, and (presumably thanks to our wide open spaces) have homes providing, on average, 721 square feet per person—nearly twice the average size of European residences. The study's authors allow that fast-growing GDP is "not the be all and end all of happiness and prosperity," citing more "intangible" (and quintessentially European) factors such as equality, leisure time, and the environment. But they note, with a defensiveness undoubtedly endemic among Swedish free-marketeers, that "material resources" are a "precondition of much of the wellbeing which people like to call intangible."
Fredrik Bergström and Robert Gidehag, Timbro
