Mourning the untimely demise of an unrepentant monster

This is going to be one of those moments akin to the Kennedy assassination or September 11th. Following a nighttime ride through the muffled whiteness of the latest blizzard here in CO, I sat down to my computer, crossing my fingers that my illicit Internet connection would be functional enough for me to send some business-y emails I have been putting off for several wks. Uttering an surreptitious exclamation of delight when the wireless connection did its job, I signed into my account, started to hit the 'Compose' button, but halted w/my finger above the mouse key as I read the title of the Washington Post News Alert in my Inbox: 'Former Iraqi President Hussein Executed.' My jaw dropped slightly -- you never expect to find that an evil which has colored your entire life really can die, and at the hands of an executioner, no less -- and I hastily read the article, a revised version of which can be found at:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/12/29/AR2006122900142.html?referrer=email

Then, smthg. even more unexpected happened. I welled up. I got all misty reading abt. the ignominious end of that dirtbag, Saddam. Don't misunderstand -- I wasn't sad for him, his death is no real loss to the world. I am, however, sad that in the midst of large-scale violence being perpetrated on all sides, the Iraqi government response is to join in the throes, adding one more victim the growing pile, albeit one more deserving of his end than many others who have perished thus far. If this whole thg. had taken place at a different time or in a different political context, I may not be so dismayed at the outcome. I am not a wholehearted proponent of the death penalty, but I think we can all agree that this man perpetrated some of the most heinous, brazen crimes against humanity this side of the Holocaust, and, frankly, I am okay w/such ppl. being hanged. I'm not trying to turn this into a debate abt. the death penalty, so save it -- I've heard the arguments of both sides and formed my own mostly anti- opinion according to my own standards of conduct, so let's leave it at that -- but what I am saying is that by hanging even a creature as vile as Saddam Hussein, the Iraqi government has just shot itself -- and us -- in the foot. No, more like the face.

Prior to his execution, Saddam was not much of a rallying point for anyone, not even his own Sunnis. Why? B/C he was, as covered previously, a cunning, ruthless asshole who was not particularly nice to anyone, regardless of religion, tribe, or political affiliation. The only thg. most Sunnis miss abt. Saddam are the oil revenues he used to throw their way to keep them fr. starving and rebelling against him since they do live in the most worthless section of Iraq and would not have survived otherwise -- as they are now unhappily discovering. But now, now all that has changed. By executing Saddam, the Iraqi government -- run primarily by Shi'ites and Kurds, remember, neither of whom are well-loved by the Sunnis and vice-versa -- has made a Sunni martyr of Saddam. They have created smthg. that was not there before, potentially triggering an even greater blood-letting than we have heretofore seen, even in the last six mos. when the Baghdad morgue has been averaging 100 bodies a day and the Coalition casualties have been mounting at steadily increasing rates.

Certainly, this is speculation. But it is educated speculation likely to be borne out by exceptionally unfortunate events. Certainly, too, if there is an increase in violence, much of it will be directed b/t the ever-warring factions within Iraq, not strictly at Coalition troops. But the execution took place within the American-run Green Zone, after a US judge gave consent through his silence for the event to take place, and at the behest of a government which is essentially propped up by the US Coalition. So you do the math and figure out if this is likely to decrease or increase the popularity of our troops there, at least among the Sunni faction. Maybe you can do some real fun math of the sort the administration uses often and thereby figure that two-thirds of the country is happy Saddam is dead, so that other third is inconsequential, no matter how many armed fanatics they count among their number. You can play the numbers as you see fit, but I for one am going to worry more than ever about the ppl. I care abt. who are over there or are soon to be so.

On a final note, Iraqis being fond of their guns as they are, it was not surprising that there was widespread celebratory gunfire across the country as news of Saddam's death spread. I believe the Ottoman Empire hadn't quite fallen off the knowledge wagon in the 17th c. when Newton conclusively demonstrated the existence of gravity and the attendant corollary, 'what goes up must come down,' which leads me to believe that these ppl. should have gotten the memo abt. that. This, in turn, would lead one to hope they would refrain fr. unreservedly letting loose a salvo of gunfire, since they should have the understanding that those bullets do come back down with some force, coming to rest, as all objects eventually do, when acted on by an outside force, frequently some unsuspecting bystander's body. A common complaint lodged against the West by ppl. fr. this region is that we underestimate them and look upon them as somehow 'less' than us -- less developed, less educated, less able to govern themselves w/o the use of force, etc. My question, then, is why would a ppl. so annoyed by our 'unfair' characterizations continue to engage in a behavior that is, charitably, foolish and which flies in the face of even the most basic scientific principles?

The world is above all a mystifying place.

Happy those early days! when I/shined in my angel infancy./Before I understood this place...Vaughan

"Before I understood this place", indeed.

A couple of wks. ago, I had the singularly unpleasant experience of watching a lovely children's movie and, for the first time, crying upon its happy conclusion. The rather-too-loveable main character survived his perilous journey, he got the girl, and he managed to unite all of humanity behind his noble cause. This last bit is what precipitated the lacrimosal leakage. I cried while watching a happy ending b/c I knew as I saw the images of the fictional media coverage, public outcry, and concerted efforts of world leaders to solve the problem that this would never, EVER happen in real life. I think what really made me lose it was the footage of the U.N. passing a resolution and then implementing it successfully, sans political infighting, corporate interference, or plain ol' logistical bungling.

Thanks to my education and, uh, my ability to read the daily world news, I am well acquanited with the difficulty the U.N. has in gaining consensus of any kind, coupled with its near-impotence in terms of execution. I'm not trying to bash the U.N. here. I respect its stated mission, I believe the potential for greatness exists, and I firmly support many of its recent initiatives. I also, however, recognize that its mission is often neglected or manipulated, its potential is as yet unmet, and its recent initiatives remain unknown to average citizen of the world. Further, my own life experience makes it impossible for me to believe that even smthg. as notable as a tap-dancing penguin would be sufficient to spur the world toward making a sweeping, positive change such as the one in this movie. I just don't think human beings have enough humanity in them to 'do the right thg.', to set aside personal interests and politics and band together to make a much-needed reform.

I have long been a cynic, but my inability muster even the innocence needed to watch a simple movie and enjoy its simple, happy ending for what it is is deeply wrong. Worse, I don't see any way of going back. Even as I attempt to make a positive -- if small -- impact on the world, I can think only of the futility of such efforts. There must be a tiny thread of hope left in me, or else I don't think I would bother w/my individual efforts, but perhaps that is just a fatalistic vanity or outright desperation. Either way, it's not good.

On a tangentially related note, I read an interesting article in the first Nov. issue of The Economist abt. new research that indicates early humans developed white scleras (as opposed to the dark ones of other primates) as a result of and to further facilitate their natural tendency toward cooperation and communication. The ability to determine what another human-ish primate was looking at allowed better coordination of hunting parties and probably contributed to the development of higher-level thinking (e.g., planning, organizing, empathy, etc.). This, in turn, gave early man an edge over its competitors, allowing our ancestors to best their less socially-minded peers. Sad, then, that modern man fails miserably at both communicating and cooperating. Could this maladaptive development be a harbinger of thgs. to come?

Could this entry be a little more doom-and-gloomy?

Just when you thought Texas couldn't get any dumber

(NB: The header is a link to an article -- I got fancy!)

It's times like these that I am reminded of the barely stifled sighs I received fr. foreign Customs officials upon handing them my U.S. passport and I completely understand where they're coming from. I feel compelled to stress that Texas is barely part of the Union (though it often thinks it is the only state in the Union), and it is NOT -- I repeat, NOT -- part of the South (though it pretends otherwise). Texas is like a foreign object our nation foolishly ingested in its youth, not unlike a toddler swallowing a penny. It's not the best idea, it can sometimes cause abdominal pain, but usually you don't pay it much mind. The only thg. worth mentioning that has come out of TX is "Dallas," as in the television show, not the city. Oh, that womanizing, manipulative, deceitful J.R...What a hoot. Oh, and my favorite line fr. the above article must be, '"This opens up the fun of hunting to additional people, and I think that's great," [Representative] Kuempel said'. Yeah, it sure is fun when even blind ppl. can legally shoot at stuff, too.

On a cheerier note, I received the following poem fr. my DASKF (Dear And Special Kiwi Friend) Stuart:
Jules, Jules, the mighty Jules
Everyone knows she rules*
Potato soup or just on walks
I miss our friendly talks

Aw, Stuart -- making me laugh even when he's in a completely different hemisphere. Feel free to submit your own (brief) odes, though I daresay no one is going to be able to capture my awesomeness quite so effectively as Stuart.

*emphasis added by the editor (and rightfully so!)

"What the...?"

So said most of the greater Charleston area during yesterday's commute when we all realized that the really thick, opaque "rain" falling was in fact snow, the earliest snowfall in Charleston's recorded history. I, being familiar w/this phenomenon and a rather impatient person, though to myself, "Huh. Well, I'll be damned, " and went along my slightly-over-the-speed-limit way. Or at least I tried to.

There exists a stereotype that Southerners are simply unable to drive in the snow. Like most stereotypes, this one exists for a reason; most ppl. fr. South of D.C. either barracade themselves in their homes at the sight of the first flake, or they brave the roads, which leads to one of two outcomes: 1) they end up in a ditch, or 2) they crawl along at the speed of 2, terrified that they will end up in a ditch and wholly unconcerned w/the fact that there are other ppl. on the road who would like to reach their destinations before Christ comes back. There were plenty of ppl. who took the first approach, opting to batton down the hatches rather than go outside, which meant that my formerly busy morning work schedule disintegrated rapidly. And good thg. it did, b/c of those who were on the road yesterday, more than a few fell into Southern Snow Drivers Category 2 (They Who Are Super Slow), causing my drive to work to be even more irritating and protracted than usual.

This irksome over-representation is probably explained by the fact that since the snow was not actually accumulating anywhere yesterday, there was little risk of ditch diving -- thereby eliminating a number of ppl. belonging to Southern Snow Drivers Category 1 -- but I guess no one else on the road got that message b/c as more ppl. started to realize that it was snow, not rain, falling on their windshield, traffic slowed exponentially. On a road whose speed limit is 55 m.p.h., I could not find anyone going faster than 35. It was as if they were all trying to stop and stare at the snow while still technically operating a vehicle.

I love the South. No, really, I do. I love the hot weather, I love the fried everythg., I love the iced sweet tea. I just don't love Southern Snow Drivers, particularly those of the Category 2 persuasion. At least the Category 1 guys end up off the road and out of my way. Yes, that's right, I am saying I would prefer someone to be in a ditch than to have him or her impeding my automotive progress. Yes, of course I'm going to Hell, which in my case will be cold rather than hot and will probably involve a perpetual commute in snowy conditions w/only the worst of the Category 2 types around me.

Until that time, though, I can pray that there will be no more snow this yr. while I sit back and enjoy my Thanksgiving feast of green bean casserole w/fried onion topping, mashed potatoes w/a whole stick of real butter in them, sweet potatoes w/fried marshmallow topping, collard greens, and biscuits w/a butter glaze. For the meat eaters in my group, there will be a turkey, deep fried in peanut oil, as is the delicious Southern way. Happy Thanksgiving, all you A-murr-icans -- esp. those of you fr. the South who stay home when it snows.

Kerry was right.

Or at least he was more right than all of the ppl. saying he was wrong.

If you live in North America and you have turned on your television or had access to any sort of news outlet in the last 24 hrs., you have undoubtedly heard abt. Sen. Kerry's recent gaffe. After all, it is the only thg. happening in the world right now, or so it would seem if one were to judge by the incessant media coverage. In case you have had the good fortune not to be subjected to this vapid onslaught, the general idea is that yesterday during a campaign rally for a California gubernatorial candidate, Kerry was giving a speech during which he made several snide remarks regarding Pres. Bush. None of them were v. funny, though they were apparently meant to be, but the one that got the attention of everyone is a joke that Kerry says he delivered incorrectly. Instead of saying, "Do you know where you end up if you don’t study, if you aren’t smart, if you’re intellectually lazy? You end up getting us stuck in a war in Iraq. Just ask President Bush, " he said, "You know, education, if you make the most of it, you study hard, you do your homework and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well. If you don’t, you get stuck in Iraq.”

The humor of the original version is unsophisticated at best, but it would have been less inflammatory. As one would expect, Republican pundits and media outlets of all political leanings immediately latched on to the remark, presenting it as an egregious affront to those serving in the armed forces and portraying Kerry -- a decorated veteran, remember -- as anti-military and erego anti-American.

Was Kerry wrong to make such a statement in public, at an event likely to be videotaped and attended by ppl. waiting for him to make such a blunder? Of course. Does Kerry have the charisma and humor of a vegetable and less common sense than an inbred chihuahua? So it would seem. But was he wrong in his (mis)statement that poor grades and unremarkable school performance leave you w/few career options beyond the military? Not really, no.

What I find so baffling abt. this whole "controversy" is the fact that in no way is it considered news that the military is staffed largely by ppl. w/undistinguised academic records, low socioeconomic status, and few occupational alternatives. Of course there are exceptions to this generalization. But by and large, the US military is not exactly the best and brightest. That does not mean that I don't respect (most of) our soldiers and the job they do -- I am married to one, for Pete's sake -- but I'm not going to disregard decades worth of statistics and reports that clearly demonstrate the military is at best a place where ppl. who lack the requisite cognitive skills to get a good job in the civilian world can make a decent living, and at worst it is an instrument of social oppression, courting and catering to the economically, socially, and, yes, intellectually disadvantaged of our nation, while doing little to actually improve their standing or well-being. In fact, during the Vietnam War, the US military lowered the basic intelligence requirement necessary for a person to become a soldier to a level that is frightening on so many levels (e.g, do you really want a person w/an IQ of 75 carrying an automatic weapon?, or is our government really so willing to exploit these ppl., even w/the copious amts. of research showing such ppl. are at greater risk for death, injury, and psychological trauma?), and these diminished standards persist in today's military, particularly in the Army and the Marines, both of whom have accepted people w/Armed Forces Qualifying Test (AFQT) scores as low as 26 in recent mos. in an effort to make up for recruiting shortfalls. The AFQT is a variation of your standard IQ test, scored on a 100 point scale. So 26 is pretty dang low. It is so low, actually, that Congress placed severe limitations on the number of ppl. who could legally be recruited fr. that population, but there is little oversight or enforcement of those standards, esp. now during such desperate times.

I realize that is an extreme example and certainly not everyone who joins the military will have an AFQT score in the lowest percentile ranking allowed. But it also stands to reason that ppl. at the other extreme -- those who score 90 or above -- are also few in number. Normally, simple statistics would dictate that the everyone else would be somewhat evenly distributed among the remaining intelligence levels, but when examining the intelligence of the miltary population, you must remember one further factor: most smart ppl. self-select out. That is, more ppl. on the higher end of middling intelligence do not join the military in the first place. Why would they when they can go get better jobs in the civilian world that don't carry a substantial risk of death of injury? You therefore end up w/a skewed version of the bell curve and that skew tends definitively toward the low end of thgs. in terms of brain power.

Sadly, the US military today is a catchment for ppl. who are too poor, too stupid, or too lazy to succeed in the civilian world (though there are plenty of stupid ppl. out there, too, to be sure) and there is every indication that those in power know this and use it to their advantage. I honestly thought everyone knew this already -- it has come up in conversation numerous times in my life w/ppl. of all different backgrounds, inc. many who are currently serving in the military -- which is why I have been so puzzled as to why the media started foaming at the mouth as soon as Kerry stuttered out his not-funny-to-begin-with joke. Due to Gary's obsession w/cable news networks, I have had the distinct displeasure of hearing/watching every story on every station related to this happening. They all have one thg in common, other than being exceedingly annoying, and that is that they have completely disregarded the actual truth (i.e., the military is actually not known for its intelligence) in favor of sensationalism and rabble-rousing.

The media has misrepresented facts, taken thgs. so far out of context that they are almost unrecognizable, and, worse, have missed an opportunity to address a REAL issue here. The media has focused on John Kerry's unfortunate, moronic bumbling of a bad joke and have spent the last 24 hrs. "beating him like a baby seal", in the words of Gary. They have limited the scope of this story to that one man and have completely missed the chance to bring a more substantial problem to the fore. Rather than asking how the military is allowed to recruit ppl. who 30 yrs. ago would not have been deemed smart enough to attend public school, or asking why after so many yrs. the military is still staffed predominately by ppl. of low socioeconomic background, or discussing the potential connection between lowered military efficacy and lowered cognitive enlistment standards, rather than doing any of these potentially worthwhile and certainly more newsworthy thgs., the media has instead spent an entire day calling John Kerry an idiot.

Idiot though he may be, and although he said his statement was a mistake, John Kerry was right -- "education, if you make the most of it, you study hard, you do your homework and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well. If you don’t, you get stuck in Iraq," or working for the media where it seems that neither a brain nor scruples are required.

Sherman Alexie

Now. I consider myself a reasonably well-read person and I am always slightly disappointed in myself when I discover what many would consider an unforgiveable hole in my background. Usually, these omissions stem fr. the fact that my sensibilities basically stopped registering literature after the British Regency period. (The fact that I have been in school for most of my life and was therefore required to give up reading for fun for long stretches doesn't help either.) Tonight, however, I was able to patch one of those holes in a thoroughly enjoyable manner.

It all started last wk. when Jill told me a speaker was coming to the College and read the promotional blurb. Intrigued by Mr. Alexie's background (he grew up on an Indian reservation in WA) and by his eclectic professional distinctions (he is an award-winning poet, novelist, screenwriter, and director), I decided to overlook the fact that I had never heard of this person and agreed to attend. When Jill reminded me this morning that he was speaking tonight, I said, "Oh, great, I'll be there!" and then realized I had completely forgotten what the talk was supposed to cover. Later, after having worked a full day for the first time in, um, years, I began to re-evaluate whether or not I really wanted to spend another few hrs. in town to hear a lecture whose topic I could not even remember delivered by a man whose apparent celebrity was entirely under my radar. The vestigial remains of my initial enthusiasm won over, though, and all I can say is...I need to adjust my radar.

The body of Mr. Alexie's "lecture" lasted just about an hr. and could be divided as follows:
80% hilarious -- as in laughing-at-a-volume-inappropriate-for-public-places funny for most of the lecture.
15% controversial -- one guy (who obviously missed the subtleties of Mr. Alexie's presentation style) tried to start a genuine argument w/him during the Q&A session after the lecture. Then I started mocking him fr. my seat directly behind his head and Mr. Alexie demonstrated that he did, indeed, have the citations to back up his assertions and the guy gave up. Now that's teamwork.
4% angry -- and rightfully so. Plus, he is an equal-opportunity critic, taking aim at left-wing extremists, right-wing extremists, vegans, and pretty much anyone else who doesn't make sense.
1% vulgar -- I can honestly say I've never been asked to repeat the word "fuckhead" by a College-sponsored speaker. And you know I did.
-------------------------------------------------

= 100% masterfully, insidiously thought-provoking. I've never witnessed someone so effectively couch a serious commentary on human behavior, perceptions, and attitudes in what many would -- and did -- register as merely a stand-up comedy routine. It was astonishing, really.

Also, he is quite affable and allowed me to chit chat and be my usual jack-ass self w/him at the reception following his lecture, which is always a plus. I recently heard that David Sedaris -- whom I adore and to whom I would perhaps liken Mr. Alexie in that they both use humor to address more serious issues -- is horrible in person and just stands reading fr. his books and seemed rather less approachable. So the fact that you can actually talk to him like a normal human being (or like me) is one more, entirely superfluous reason you should go check out Alexie's work. He recommended his collection of stories, "The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fisfighting in Heaven," to Jill, which I found somehow refreshing. Perhaps b/c I am persistently plagued by my own inability to believe that anythg. I produce would really be worth someone else's time (this blog notwithstanding) and b/c so many artists of various stripes seem to share my disability, I found it impressive that he was able to say that he genuinely liked one of his (numerous) works. It often seems that it is hardest for us to find smthg. w/in ourselves worthy of praise and I suppose it was reassuring to see that in someone else.

Well, I think that is more than enough gushing for one evening. Check out his website: http://www.fallsapart.com/index.html , read his work, and see if my accolades are unwarranted.

"I was sitting at this stoplight at 3am b/c I couldn't sleep again, thinking abt. how depressed I was and how I hated myself, thinking to myself, 'Other ppl. seem to like you, why don't you?'" -- Sherman Alexie's lead-up to a story that was an absolute hoot, if you can imagine insomnia, a late-night car accident, and racial tensions being presented in an impossibly funny way. My paraphrase is not v. funny, but it apparently struck a chord in me, since that is the line I most clearly remember, aside fr. the oath he made us all, as an audience, swear that went smthg. along the lines of, "I solemnly swear that if I am on a plane being hijacked by a boxuctter-wielding terrorist, I will reach for the nearest laptop computer, hurl it like a frisbee at his head, and decpitate that fuckhead fundamentalist." heh.

This is unacceptable.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/08/25/AR2006082501298.html?referrer=email


This link might not function since you're supposed to have a (free) subscription to the Washington Post to read the article, but you should try to find out abt. this incident some other way if this doesn't work. As you probably know, hundreds of thousands of Lebanese civilians have been returning to what is left of their homes following the cease fire agreement b/t Israel and Hezbollah. As you may or may not know, these same innocent civilians continue to fear for their lives and to daily be in harm's way due to the presence of mines and other unexploded ordnance left behind after the conflict. (And yes, I mean innocent civilians -- women, children, Christians, and other ppl. who are most definitely not part of the Hezbollah militia.) Although many mines are left fr. the days of Israeli occupation during and following Lebanon's civil war and were planted by both Israel and Hezbollah, the greatest danger today comes from unexploded ordnance lobbed at residential areas by the Israelis in this most recent conflict.

Targeting civilian areas is a clear violation of international law, to say nothg. of simple decency. And for those of you who want to come back w/that tired old "terrorists target civilians, too" argument, don't bother -- you will never convince me that it is somehow okay to use the v. tactics we decry simply b/c the opposing side resorts to such barbarity. So save your breath/carpal tunnels and my blood pressure. Perhaps worst of all, however, is that it is now apparent that Israel launched cluster bombs -- to me, the most reprehensible weapon in the modern arsenal, next to nuclear weapons -- into neighborhoods, markets, and other non-combatant areas, leaving behind countless numbers of unexploded "bomblets", the small but powerful spawn of the larger explosive projectile. Literally thousands of civilians in Iraq have been injured or killed by these tiny vessels of violence (courtesy of the U.S. miltary) and now the same pattern is emerging in Lebanon as unwitting civilians encounter the bobmlets as they try to clear the rubble of what was their lives in order to rebuild. Most tragically, however, is that children seem to be the most frequent victims of this particular device. Since kids are stupid, er, "innocent", they often mistake the bomblet for a ball, turning what should be a game of catch -- a reprieve fr. the destruction and loss around these children -- into a nightmare, as happened in the article I linked above. Normally I would say smthg. abt. how parents should keep an eye on their kids, but these parents are a little distracted by the whole there's-a-bulldozer-where-my-house-should-be situation, so I'm inclined to go a little easier on them than usual. The ppl. who should really be held responsible are the Israelis, who knowingly assaulted areas that should have been off-limits w/the artillery equivalent of herpes (it's the gift that keeps on giving!).

Oh, in case this wasn't disgusting enough, at least three varieties of the cluster bombs used by the Israelis are Made in the USA.

Since I'm fairly new to this whole having a heart position, I don't have many suggestions for what can be done by each of us individually, but it can only help to spread awareness of these egregious acts, so that's what I'm doing. See Jennifer, my favorite Canadienne, for better-informed advice.

Three strikes and you're out...of the gene pool

Oh, I wish.

Last night I accompanied Eli to wing night, which takes place every Wed. at the local Buffalo's (a mediocre, ostensibly Tex-Mex restaurant that also serves a variety of chicken wings). I used to go ea. wk. to these gatherings, but I quickly realized I dislike most of the ppl. there -- inc. those in our group -- and I hate the food even more, so I have significantly reduced my appearances. Fr. what I hear, the wings are quite good, but that does me no good. Everythg. I have sampled tastes like what I imagine would be the flavor of particle board with a texture to match. Point is, wing night holds few attractions for me and I have repeatedly failed to convince the few ppl. I do like who attend the wkly. ritual to change it to Mexican night.

And in case I needed that little extra push to convince me never again to return, I saw a woman last night who is a) a prime example of the sort of person who frequents this establishment, and b) also a prime example of the trash holes that populate this town. Observe:

1) When we pulled into the parking lot, I saw an unusually well-dressed pregnant woman (the phrase "barefoot and pregnant" originated in this region for a reason) walking toward the door and was slightly encouraged. I was quickly reminded that all hope is futile in this place when I passed said Pregnant woman Smoking w/a bunch of hillbillies just outside the entrance.
2) I was further unimpressed when it was brought to my attn. that this woman was attending a poker tournament being held in the restaurant, with her toddler in tow. I have nothing against responsible adults playing some poker if it strikes their fancy (I AM friends w/Eamonn, Chris, and Joe, for Heaven's sake), but I DO have a problem w/ppl. taking their small, developing children to an environment conducive to vulgarity, excess, and sometimes violence.
3) The superfluous icing on the cake was when the woman allowed her child to toddle about the restaurant unattended while mommy dearest picked at the leftovers that had not yet been cleared fr. a table in our section of the restaurant. It is important to note that the poker area was separate fr. our area, which means that she likely did not even know the ppl. who so generously provided her snack. Before I could fully appreciate her commitment to helping end American dietary wastefulness, I noticed her young child pick smthg. up fr. the floor. The child clenched it in her fist for a few moments, waiting for her mother to come admire her treasure. Now, I do not have kids and I certainly do not profess to be a child-rearing expert, but I know a few of the basics. Like, for example, don't let your kids eat shit off the floor, esp. in a public place. This lady -- and I use that term V. loosely -- examined the contents of her young one's outstretched palm and said, "That's candy. You put it in your mouth."

Oh, madam, if only YOU had simply put it in your mouth rather than following through with the whole procreationary act. Twice (that I know of).


Also, I had a FANTASTIC trip to Oregon to see Brianna and I will be posting pics and captions next wk. when Eli and I get back fr. Charleston. Highlights include: big trees, a crazy dog, and raccoon patty-cake. Yes, that's right.

And since I am abt. six yrs. behind in reading everyone else's blog due to the untimely death of my harddrive in June, I only just discovered this little gem on Daniel's blog: a website that generates your surprisingly comical obituary! Using my nickname, I got, "Evilly skulking around the neighborhood, jules died laughing hysterically. Jules will be terribly missed by the Lollypop Kids." This seems spot on to me, what with the reference to my evil-ness, my tendency to wander absently, my frequent laughter, AND my diminutive stature. The one that used my full name reminds me of how Brianna used to say I would end up like Blanche on Golden Girls when we got old (and it also references my evil-ness!). heh.

'What will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Lighter News

This isn't totally bizarre, given the Japanese people's reputation as Ameriphiles when it comes to thgs. related to fashion, celebrities, and music, but it made me chuckle nonetheless:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/5038686.stm

I esp. enjoyed his personally selected collection of Elvis hits that sold millions of copies over there. Judging by the pictures, it seems that Mr. Koizumi is channeling a bit of Elvis via his v. un-politician-like hair. Now if he would only flop it over w/a side part and use a bit of pomade...

Israel and the Bush Administration: Tied for First

Well, they would be tied for first if there were a contest for WORST FOREIGN POLICY DECISIONS IN RECENT HISTORY.

I don't have time to go into a full-blown rant, as the wonders of Organic Chem await me before I turn in for the night, but I would like to address two thgs.:
1) Approximately 30 mins. ago, Israel allegedly entered Northern Gaza (addendum: in fact, they have massed troops on the border, but have not yet actually entered). This incursion compounds their recent insertion of troops into Southern Gaza, their numerous air assaults on the area over the past few weeks (which have done little more than miss the intended targets and kill innocent women and children), and their unequivocally aggressive rhetoric. Further, they have "arrested" several leading Palestinian politicians and are openly discussing assassinations (though not of the figures currently in their custody -- at least not yet)

I never thought I would see the day where I was defending Palestine beyond the perfunctory well-there-are-two-sides-to-every-story, but recent events and actions taken by Israel against the Palestinian territory have made it nearly impossible for me to do otherwise. I recognize that Palestinian militants, both with and without the support of their government, have fired rockets and mortars at their Israeli neighbors, as well as dispatched suicide bombers in crowded, public areas. I recognize that a Hamas-led government represents a serious concern for Israeli national security, and the fact that it was democratically elected by the Palestinian ppl. only makes it more so. I recognize that Israel and Palestine continue to be engaged in a decades-long struggle, and that such protracted conflict breeds paranoia, aggression, and offensive defense.

But, really.

Israel's actions of late, coupled now w/what is looking increasingly like a prelude to open warfare, are baffling in their extremity and perhaps reveal the extent to which the untimely exit of Ariel Sharon has left that country's government somewhat adrift. Fending off rabid conservatives -- including growing numbers of fascist-like nationalists -- the moderate party formed by Sharon and carried on by his successor, Olmert, appears now to be overcompensating for their "liberal" decision to completely withdraw fr. the occupied territories last yr. Israel has a strong tradition of militarism -- rightfully so, some would say, given the history of violence perpetrated against them -- so troop movements, missile strikes, and violent speech are not actually that unusual. However, it is the scale and the pace of this most recent escalation that I find most unnerving, to say nothg. of Israel's wanton disregard for the safety of non-combatants and their apparent willingness to ignore the destabilizing impact their behavior could have on the entire region, not just within their borders. To continue goading the Palestinian government, militias, and ppl. is v. likely to precipitate a wider conflict. I cannot fathom why at this delicate moment in time -- given Iran's nuclear goals, the horrific situation in Iraq and its security implications for the entire Middle East region, and the ever-present latent ill-will harbored against Israel by its neighbors -- I simply cannot understand why Israel would choose to ramp up the violence and the threats.

This is not the time for bravado and machismo. And when GW says he thinks you're handling the situation well, then you should really consider re-thinking your current course of action. (Mr. President and his administration of toadies recently said that they fully support Israel. Well of course they do -- Israel is the only country in the world doing thgs. that are possibly more dangerous and stupid than what we've done in Iraq. One further addendum: State Dept. officials -- inc. Conestoga -- are urging caution and diplomacy, but a spokesman for Pres. Bush yesterday stated that Israel is entitled to defend itself against terrorism, apparently by fanning the flames of a long-burning and dangerous fire.)

2) Don Gagner, a correspondent for National Public Radio w/the White House Press Corps recently accompanied Pres. Bush on his visit to Europe where he met w/the leaders of Britain, France, and other members of the G-8 who will be gathering soon for their annual meeting. Mr. Gagner summarized this warm-up for the big show by saying, "These summits usually reflect whatever crisis is facing the world today, and this yr. that crisis is certainly Iraq."

There is nothg. especially surprising abt. that statement, but there is smthg. exceptionally annoying abt. it. I find it irritating that the time and resources of some of the world's greatest powers are being focused on the "crisis" of Iraq. What abt. the crisis of the AIDS epidemic? What abt. the crisis of the staggering rate of poverty and its attendant maladies throughout the world? What abt. the REAL human rights crisis that is going on in Sudan, or the REAL terrorist threat taking shape in Somalia, where militant Islamists w/confirmed connections to Al Qaeda are gaining ground each day? These last two crises should stand in sharp relief to the fabrications, embellishments, and mishaps related to Iraq over the last three and a half yrs. (Addendum 3: I so win, but in this case, I wish I hadn't. Islamist militants today announced that they have taken total control of Somalia. While this claim is somewhat debateable, it *is* irrefutable that their power is growing and that last wk. they established as their new leader an ultra-conservative sheik believed to have ties to al Qaeda.)

It bugs the absolute piss out of me that the leaders of the "free and enlightened" world are spending so much time, money, and energy on a crisis of their own making. Okay, well, not all of the countries in the E.U. were or are involved in the war in Iraq, but by focusing on this problem to the detriment of issues that are just as -- if not more -- important, even those who are not actively part of the Coalition Forces are lending credence and legitimacy to what is ultimately not a legitimate war. I understand fully and personally the importance of this conflict and its political, economic, and security implications. But what kills my soul is that a war that should never have been started in the first place is now taking precedence over issues that have long deserved more attention than they have received, and that will continue to take a back seat to the wastefulness that is the war in Iraq and the ridiculousness that is the Bush administration and its agenda.

I have some funny stories to share next time I write, but I would probably not have gotten to sleep w/o venting a bit beforehand -- I guess that's what I get for reading the news right before bedtime.

Quote of the Day:

"That crap was so boring." -- Elise, on her high school religion class

Oh, my holy Jesus.

Listen to the intro theme song and don't even bother trying to correct all of the spelling and grammatical mistakes on her "At A Glance" section.

All I can say is, she's NOT originally fr. Georgia. Neither myself nor other sensible Georgians asked for this woman to move here and expose us all to public ridicule.

Thank you, Angela, for making it even harder to tell ppl. we are fr. the state of GA w/o grimacing.

http://www.angelasos06.com/vote4-angela.htm

Quote of the Day:
Chester, my stepdad, on dually pickup trucks: I don't know why ppl. like those trucks. It's like: "Ew -- look at the huge rear end on that thing!"

Laughing so hard...

Quotes of the Week (thus far):

Nan, upon my return fr. lunch w/SDG at the State Department: So, did you see...what's her name -- Conestoga??

(While I did not see her wagonship, Ms. Condoleezza Rice, I am highly amused every time I think on Nan's [purposeful] misnomer.)

Nick, while saute-ing various ingredients for dinner tonight on Susan's gas stove: Huh. Well, I'm surprised that didn't catch on fire.

Hahaha... Lots of funny thgs. happening this wk., but I need to get out of my wet clothes and shower so that I will be awake tomorrow when Susan and Nick show up to make me bkfst. Having an excellent vacation.... And congratulations to my Daddy for passing his NCLEX (R.N. licensing exam) on the first try! Told you he was brilliant.

One further high point: Discovering on Susan's refrigerator a card I sent her more than a yr. ago, the contents of which were quite sentimental and I am glad she has apparently not yet been sickened by them. Also, Nan had every post card I sent her fr. overseas on her refrigerator. It's silly, but these thgs. make me feel special.

11 states in 48 hours: A travelogue in prose

Probably not so exciting as that song by The Nails, "88 Lines About 44 Women" ('Julie came and went so fast/She didn't even say goodbye!'), but my cross-country trip was quite an adventure nonetheless.

The great states of Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, and Colorado as far as Denver (approx. 1700 mi.) were packed into 26 non-stop hrs. Oh, and I forgot to mention that me, Steve, and all of his worldly possessions were packed into a 24-ft. moving truck w/his car being towed behind. When we first fabricated this plan, I considered for only the briefest moment that the truck might just be too big for me to drive, but I quickly discarded that idea in favor of the delusion that I can do anythg. When Steve brought the truck home and proceeded to knock over the mailbox backing it into the driveway, I began to revisit my initial reservations. After all, Steve has driven large trucks before and his backing-up skillz are second to none (though perhaps tied w/Eli's), so if even he couldn't drive the truck w/o incident, I was fairly certain that there was no hope for me. Plus, it was raining. Plus, Steve loves his car more than he loves, well, anythg. else in his life, so if anythg. were to happen while I was driving to damage the car, all I could do was hope that it was an event of enough magnitude to take me out, too. So no pressure.

In the end, I did not actually drive the truck that much (maybe eight hrs. of the entire trip), but I was sufficiently unnerved by the prospect when I first took the wheel that I was instantly able to overcome the bone-crushing fatigue that comes only when one has been awake for nearly 24 hrs. after spending the entire wk. before foregoing sleep in favor of studying for finals. I feel comfortable giving myself the title of best road trip partner ever -- and I'm pretty sure I could get a second and a third on that nomination -- b/c I am one of those ppl. who doesn't like to sleep when the other person is driving b/c I feel like they need as much entertainment as possible, esp. if you're driving overnight and they're tired. Additionally, I can read aloud for a long time w/o losing my voice, I do silly dances and sing at excessive volumes, and can occasionally hold an interesting, protracted conversation. (This is true unless you're Eli. For some reason, I always fall asleep when I'm driving w/poor Eli. Let's be nice and say it's b/c I feel safest w/him.) This is nice of me, but in this case it meant that by the time we reached CO, where I was to spend two nights w/my grandparents and my aunt, I was nearly delirious fr. lack of sleep.

Apparently the two and a half hrs. I had during the drive were not quite enough: Not only was I no more than technically conscious, I made a v. inappropriate joke at the dinner table that still makes me look at the floor when I think of it. I won't repeat it, but let's just say it involved my grandmother's Bible study grp., my granddad, and fellatio. Actually, it would have been quite funny had it not involved my granddad. Yes, there go my eyes sliding downward in embarrassment at the memory. Oh, and before we move away fr. the subject of my granddad, I apparently inherited my naughty side honestly. Ever since Pop-Pop had a stroke a few yrs. ago, it's as if his internal censor has been officially switched off. The man is positively dur-tee, but absolutely hilarious. I encourage anyone w/an interest in skiing, snow, Johnny Cash (Pop-Pop watches "Walk the Line" at least once a week), and/or dirty jokes to come out to CO w/me for Christmas so that you can be part of the hilarity. Need further incentives? My grandmother is a really good cook/interior decorator and my aunt and her husband are really funny, too, albeit in a more wholesome way. Although, they both laughed really hard at my awful joke, so maybe they're not so innocent as I would wish to believe. Anyhow, point is, my family is awesome and I want to share the slightly twisted joy. So come on over for Christmas -- they have a lot of room.

Woke up dark and early two mornings later and drove abt. 4.5 hrs. to the western edge of CO to link back up w/my convoy (our friends Tess and Randy were w/us, too, on their way out to see Tess's family), then drove through Utah and Arizona before arriving nine hrs. (and approx. 760 mi.) later in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada, for another two-night interlude. The highlight of this portion of the trip was unquestionably the water-based acrobatic dance show "Le Reve". I won't waste our time attempting to articulate it, but if you ever go to Vegas, it is worth the money. Absolutely stunning. Other events of note included Steven winning $500 at the blackjack table (!!) and some fat guy driving into the giant rental truck (oh, I am so sadly serious) and then having the gall to insist that we ran into him. A good time was had by all, but I really need to go back to Vegas w/Jennifer or Sarah or Ben and Jon (or any combination thereof). My last two visits have taught me that it's really the sort of place I should go w/only certain ppl., ppl. who would get a kick out of spending a few days eating good food, having a few drinks, and watching all of the crazy ppl., but who are also able to recognize the sheer ridiculousness of the whole place and therefore don't buy into what is essentially a superficial denizen of waste. The instant you allow yourself to be impressed by Vegas w/o also realizing that it is quite possibly the worst thg. ever to happen to the human race, it's over.

The final leg of the cross-country extravaganza involved a mere three hrs. fr. Las Vegas to Barstow, CA, where I was met by Marion, the best flatmate ever, and Steve and I parted ways as he continued his journey home. This farewell was pretty much what I thought it would be: abbreviated, light, and unable to do justice to the end of a four-year-long chapter in a relationship that best characterized as inconsistent. In fact, I was left wishing it was possible for me to have somehow ended the trip w/the drive fr. CO to Las Vegas. The 36 hrs. that Steve and I spent in that truck before Vegas were the most enjoyable of the roughly 35,000 hrs. we have known each other, at least in my opinion. We did not bicker. We talked abt. more thgs. than we had covered in the four previous yrs. together. We seemed to have, at the last possible moment, called a truce. It was one of those times where you are all too aware of its limited, finite nature, but you can't help wishing it would never change. You pay more attn. to details like the color of the sky or the shape of the landscape around you or the time when the other person finished your sentence b/c it was the first time he had thought deeply abt. anythg. you have said (even if what you said was smthg. you read fr. someone else's book).

That was where I wanted the trip to end, w/our pre-Vegas drive and a semblance of normalcy and understanding, not in the diesel fuel lot of some gas station where it is impossible to say the thgs. you shouldn't have waited until the last min. to say anyhow, and so you say nothg. at all, nothg. that matters.

Probably not suitable for public consumption

It's been a rather thick 24 hrs.

And this will probably be a rather voluminous, remarkably unhumorous entry, so I'll understand if you skip it.

I arrived at my father's yesterday evening, the purpose of my visit being two-fold: to see my father and his/my family and to attend his second graduation from nursing school (w/an RN this time instead of LPN). I viewed it as a visit to his/my family b/c that is exactly how I have thought of this arrangement for the past eight yrs.

I moved out of my father's house at 16, shortly after he began dating the woman who is now my stepmother. For five yrs., I had lived in what can generously be described as a "character-building" environment. I had parented my parent and myself and acted as mediator between my father and the live-in girlfriend (who alternately detested and depended on me) he had before he got together w/Jenny. I had held together the household and entertained/cared for my brother who was visiting when the live-in girlfriend left and Daddy locked himself in his room for a week w/a shotgun. And I had been told so many times that I was selfish and ungrateful that I began to believe it. I must add the disclaimer that this period was NOT all unrelenting horror, but it was...challenging on a regular basis. So by the time I was 16 and my father announced that he and Jenny were planning to move WAY out of my school district and social sphere, I felt this was an opportunity to get out of what I had long realized was a situation unlikely to change, no matter how many times I negotiated, cried, or begged.

Daddy, I remember, accepted my notice w/surprising docility, considering the vociferous manner in which he had rejected all previous overtures toward separation. Jenny at one point said to me, "I just don't know how you can treat your father this way." I thought to myself, "Oh, you will."

So I moved out, and my dad and Jenny moved away. One yr. later I went on an awkward vacation to the beach w/them and my father told me while we were sitting in traffic that he and Jenny were expecting a baby. I was nearly 18 and I was going to have a new sibling. They got married a few mos. after the vacation and had another baby (an accident this time) two yrs. after my little brother was born. My contact w/my father's new family has been confined to my bi-yearly visits to Maryland, one in the summer and one around Christmas, during which I spend two to four days at my dad's house, generally sitting w/him while he watches television and attempting to interact w/the two ppl. I unfortunately refer to as "my dad's kids".

The stilted nature of these visits has mercifully declined over the yrs., due mostly to factors such as my littlest brother being one of the coolest, smartest kids in the world, making it much more enjoyable to be around him than when he was an ugly, unwanted (by me) baby and by my stepmother finally figuring out "how I could treat my father that way" and needing a comprehending, if not entirely sympathetic, ear (i.e., mine) to listen once in a while. Plus, Eli and I started buying her Herbalife stuff and telling other ppl. abt. it to drum up business for her, so that's been a bonding point. Jenny and I also share a love of 80s rock bands and hair straighteners, probably b/c she is only 10 yrs. older than me. (Don't freak out too much -- my dad was a child when I was born, so he's only 8 yrs. older than Jenny.) But I still, right up til this evening, thought of this group as first my father's family and only secondarily, perfunctorily as my family, too: my dad's/my family.

I have continued to love my father w/the unfailingly devoted adoration one sees in small children, old dogs, and religious fanatics. Through it all, I have loved my father deeply and unreservedly. I'm 24 yrs. old and I still call him Daddy, for fuck's sake. I think the normal reaction to our rather turbulent relationship during my formative yrs. would be outright hatred or at best a cool regard, but I, who have known for so long exactly who and how my father is, still love him as I did when I was five yrs. old and I cried for hrs. b/c my mother won custody in the final divorce (when she wasn't around, of course). In some ways, this is a blessing, as it means I am generally not surprised or hurt by anythg. he does to me (e.g., rarely calling [unless smthg. is WAY wrong, of course], never visiting, forgetting my last three bdays) and I am able to maintain a v. amicable relationship w/him, which makes me happy. However, having so thorough an understanding of both my father's behavior and his mental state -- and how his behavior so often contradicts and distorts how he really feels -- makes it extraordinarily painful to hear my stepmother talk abt. how my father behaves toward her and the children, to watch him drive himself deeper and deeper into depression and further away fr. the ppl. who love him most, and to know that -- despite his formidable intelligence, his Renaissance-man like aptitude for everythg. he decides to do, and, deep down, his desire to love and be loved -- my father is never going to be happy and he is never going to get a strong enough grip on his own emotions and behaviors to stop and think abt. how he makes everyone around him unhappy.

When I went to live w/Daddy when I was 11 yrs. old, it was under the pretence that he was going through a rough time following the departure of my first stepmother and needed someone to be w/him to help him get through it. I realize now that my father will always be going through a rough patch and will always want someone w/him to help him get through it (which explains the series of wives and girlfriends). And even though I also realize that it was completely inappropriate to charge a pre-adolescent child w/the job of seeing her father through a hard time, I still cannot help but feel, in the v. farthest reaches of my heart/psyche/whatever, that I failed him.

This occurred to me late last night, after my stepmother and I had finally said goodnight following a long and varied conversation. We discussed my plans for the next few yrs. and my brother (the older one, my full brother, the one traditionally thought of as MY brother) and I listened to the sounds of my father eavesdropping in an uncharacteristically un-stealthy manner that leads me to believe that he wanted us to know that he was there, listening to Jenny tell me abt. their marriage in terms that were sufficiently vague, but were well understood by me, the person who probably knows my dad better than anyone else. We also talked abt. my other siblings, the ones even my grandparents seem to forget are part of the family just like me or Trey. And it was at this point that my dad's/my family began to become simply my family.

As I've said, I love my little brother beyond description. He is just the funniest, cleverest, cutest kid in the world. And he loves me, too, which makes it a lot easier to love him than, say, my youngest sister who has spent the past four yrs. refusing to let me approach her. Even as a baby she would cry when anyone but Jenny held her. I've always heard stories abt. how smart Elizabeth is, how articulate she is, how cunning she can be (hee hee!), but all I ever saw was a whiny twit hiding behind her mother for days at a time while I visited. Initially, it appeared that this trend would continue when Elizabeth denied me a hello hug and instead buried her face in Jenny's knees and shook her head in vehement refusal. But then she just stopped. She started talking to me and showing me thgs. and laughing and making jokes that I would think a four yr. old wouldn't even understand, let alone formulate. My stepsister, too, underwent a sort of transformation in a matter of mins. She has been for so long my incongruous foil, it's really quite embarrassing to admit, considering that she is 12 yrs. younger than me and not nearly as smart. But she shares Elizabeth's cunning and has always known which buttons to push to make me want to push her out of a moving vehicle. But on this visit she was almost immediately engaging and interesting and where in the past she would say or do thgs. to make it clear that I was not in a place that was my home (like the time she tried to get Jenny to say that my old cat who still lives w/my dad belonged to her and "their" family and not to me), this time she made a real effort to include me in the group. Making fun of my dad w/her was a handy "in" for me.

As I surveyed Joseph's disaster of a room (so like mine!) and heard him beg to be allowed to sleep on the couch (just like me when I was his age!), as I watched Elizabeth shake her tiny booty while she danced to White Zombie (just like me!) and eat only three bites of her mini-pizza (again!), and as I looked at Lynn's artwork and recognized that she may not be as intellectually smart as me or Joseph and Elizabeth, but she is exceptionally gifted in her own way, and esp. when I heard fr. Jenny how hurt Lynn is every Christmas when my grandparents send presents and cards for Joseph and Elizabeth, but not even a hello for her, I felt an entirely new set of emotions emerge: belonging replaced separateness, enjoyment supplanted obligation, and a desire to protect and foster pushed out tepid apathy. I was finally able to identify the ways in which these ppl. are MY family.

And now I am more worried than ever abt. my father and his...ways. My brother (Trey) and I are basically functional adults, but we bear significant reminders of the events of our less-than-ideal childhoods. While not all of these marks were left by our father (my mother could take up a whole other blog entry [don't worry -- I'm not planning to do that]) and not everythg. he did was harmful, the effects of the less positive aspects of Daddy's approach to fatherhood linger. I often tell ppl. that I am crazy and they always laugh it off or deny that they've seen the signs, but I think that's a combination of politeness and of my well-honed ability to hide the insanity. I do not want what I am or what Trey is for my siblings. I am left in the odd predicament of wanting to protect Joseph, Elizabeth, and Lynn fr. one of the ppl. I love best in this world.

And so I have gained a family and paradox in one day's time.

Cal-i-for-nah-ay!: A Travelogue in Picture Form

B/C I am a lazy bitch and didn't feel like fixing this problem, the pictures are actually in reverse chronological order. I don't actually think it will matter since none of you would have known the difference had I not said anythg., but if it matters to you, you can start at the bottom and work up. Many thanks to Marion, one of the world's best photographers, whose mad camera skillz allowed me to leave my own camera at home, which is really good, considering that my bag was still four pounds overweight when I went to the airport to fly home. Also, this first picture *is* actually the first picture we took on the trip and I would like you disregard my face and notice only that a) we were camping (fun!) and b) I am wrapped in a giant coat b/c it was COLD (not fun).

Me and Marion at the crazy seal beach -- there were just so many of them! And please notice the sweaters -- it was NOT warm. Or sunny, for that matter.









SO MANY SEALS!! And did you know that they molt? I did not.













This is me being a jackass at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. I was inside a tunnel that, judging by its diminutive clearance and the woman sitting in it w/her two toddlers, was meant for children. But I love tunnels. And that blue fish at the top of the pic.








Oh, you know I had to get in the canoe.













This is what happens when Marion has not yet learned how exactly all of the settings on her camera perform -- it's a freaking work of art!! When I don't know how to use thgs., they usually break or at least produce outcomes of poor quality. Marion, on the other hand, does thgs. like this -- amazing. I love accidental art! This is in the jellyfish room of the Monterey Bay Aquarium, btw -- that's what the lights are -- jellyfish.




Look!! -- it's an English tea house in the middle of CA. I think this explains the astronomical price of real estate in the area; if you convert the sums into pounds, it's not actually that bad.









Me in front a random, but insightful, posting on what is apparently the world's shabbiest recording studio, located in Cambria, CA.










The unreasonably beautiful indoor pool at HC.













This picture only begins to demonstrate the over-the-top-ness of Hearst Castle. Yes, this was meant to be a domicile, not a cathedral.



















Me lounging by the outdoor pool (sans l'eau, malheureusement) at Hearst Castle, just like a thinner, brunette, not-famous Jean Harlow!










Marion and me in the garden at HC

WHOA.

Am sitting in Marion's bedroom in the planned-down-to-the-paint-chips town of Irvine, CA, listening to what I thought was a re-make of "The Exorcist", you know, that scene w/the little girl screaming in tongues?, but what is actually her neighbor's young daughter yelling at her sibling(s) and/or parents, as she apparently does on a daily basis. I want to toss some Lithium or some Haldol over the fence.

Absolutely amazing.

And scary as piss.

So I say again, NO KIDS FOR ME.

Also, incidentally, Marion lives in a neighborhood built exclusively for UCI professors and the father of the child next door she believes is a Psychology guy. I'm telling you -- we're all nuts.

The most awesome thg. I have ever seen in my life.

Most of you probably read this either in an email I sent you or in the similar entry on Daniel's blog, but I thought it bore repeating b/c Stephen Colbert is just amazing:

Wow.

I mean, WOW.

I am sure many of you have heard abt. Stephen Colbert's little speech to the White House Press Corps' dinner, but, truly -- if you have not seen it, you cannot understand what a badd ass this man is (and yes, I mean badd, w/two ds -- when you're this badd, it needs two ds). I thought I knew, being the avid Colbert Report fan that I am, but I did NOT. NOW I KNOW. So check it out:http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-869183917758574879

And then check out Colbert's analysis of the whole event at http://www.comedycentral.com/shows/the_colbert_report/videos/most_recent/index.jhtml?start=17 (see "White House Correspondent Dinner" in the bottom row), remember that this is real, and laugh your asses off as your faith in the media is marginally restored.

Also, Jon Stewart's Daily Show commentary on the speech was quite amusing, paying homage to Colbert's balls of steel and summing up with, "Holy Shit."

I could not be more in love w/Stephen Colbert than I am at this v. moment.

Preach it, sister! OR Thank you, master of the obvious.

Girl in Library: I do NOT want to take this final.

That pretty well sums up my day, though it hardly warrants such a vehement announcement. It perhaps would be more newsworthy if she said she DID want to take her final, as that is certainly an unusual sensation I have yet to experience.

Back to the grind, best wishes to my fellow sufferers (esp. my MUSC girls). If I can just make it to California, everythg. will be alright....

Oh, also, am totally enthralled by overheardintheoffice.com -- laugh my socks off every time -- as well as Gnarls Barkley and Editors. Give a listen to them if you have a minute. Pretty spectacular.

Word of the Day: Buba

I walk in to Physics today, slightly late as usual, and am greeted w/a sight so wholly unexpected and adorable that I actually exclaimed, "Look at you!!" to my professor. Dr. A, who, as mentioned previously, is Nigerian, was wearing an oversized smock-type shirt, decorated in bold African patterns and vibrant hues of pink, purple, turquoise, and black, which he informed us is called a 'buba' (boo-buh -- he even spelled it for us). I say this was unexpected b/c although he *is* Nigerian, Dr. A. is perhaps the most assimilated foreigner I have ever known. His English is impeccable -- he even understands the nuances and more intuitive aspects of the language that generally separate native speaker fr. fluent, non-native speaker -- he drives some sort of sports sedan, and he has always dressed more like a J.Crew model than someone who would even consider wearing any sort of tribal garb, native African or not. I felt rather like an asshole after my comment (who walks in to a room and says, "Look at you!!"??), but I think he knows that I'm more of jackass than an asshole and that my comment was truly ingenuous. Plus I paid more attn. than usual today b/c I was so amused by the buba, and Dr. A always likes it when I pay attn. heh.

Also seen today was a student, approximately 20 yrs. of age, chasing a hapless yard duck around the grassy area in front of the library. I don't like this when small children do it, so imagine the rage I felt watching this idiot who is apparently old enough to go to university (I would say smart enough, too, but, let's face it -- it's Georgia Southern -- brains have little to do w/admissions) running after an obviously distressed animal waddling as fast as his little legs would go. I was so incensed that I started to run after the guy, w/the intention of running around after him for a few mins., possibly throwing some pine cones for added flair, to let him see what it's like. Then I realized that is REALLY crazy. Then I had this mental picture of me running after this tall black guy while throwing pine cones and yelling and first I laughed, but then I stopped when this was followed by a further mental picture of me being prosecuted for a hate crime or smthg. Then I laughed some more b/c, come on, that's funny.

Oh, thank God.

Sun. through Wed. of this past wk. were what I have come to call "The Week from Hell." I realize that a wk. consists of seven, not four, days, but enough bad shit happened in those four days for me to feel justified in referring to them as The Week from Hell.

Mercifully, this was followed by a brief respite in the form of a Fri. trip to Charleston. I was able to see Jennifer for a too-short but fulfilling visit before I got my hair cut, which is always fun since I have the best hair person ever, followed by as painless a trip to the car mechanic as is possible, and rounded out by a wonderful visit w/Jill and her Australian friend, Monica. We went to a ukelele/jazz concert (sounds weird, but it worked well) where we enjoyed a bottle of half-priced wine and good conversation. We then went to a photography exhibit put on by two Honors College students that was really quite good. The photos were all portraits of friends of the photographer's, but they weren't posed. It was more like candid shots of ppl.'s faces while doing everythg. fr. smoking to stuffing a whole cupcake in someone's mouth to convincing your drunk friend to stop unbuttoning his shirt. I bought a print of what looks like an attractive though somehow too-smooth guy holding his cigarette as he whispers smthg. into the ear of a girl who looks as if she's mesmerized by a snake she knows will bite her. Wary, mocking, but still intrigued. I visited w/Gary for a little while before driving back to SAV in my surprisingly *awesome* rental car, keenly aware of the fact that as soon as I pointed the car in direction of home I was overcome by nausea.

At one point in the evening, Jill was talking abt. visiting her former housekeeper, who is now too old to clean house, but who is still devoted to Jill and Gary and vice-versa. Apparently, this woman's house recently burnt down, leaving her homeless and completely bereft of worldly possessions, and also w/o the means to replace them. She was most upset abt. all of the "nice thgs." that Jill and Gary had given her over the yrs., most of which were actually just hand-me-downs, but were special to her b/c of their origins. Jill said that as soon as she found out abt. her housekeeper's predicament, she and Mariel (Jill's daughter) spent several hrs. buying their friend new clothes, toiletries, and other needful thgs. She gave up her time and her money to do everythg. that she could for someone she loves and who has loved her. It seems like an obvious thg. to do, but I have begun to realize that this is perhaps not so obvious as I once thought. I think that was the best part of the evening, being reminded that there are ppl. like Jill out there and that I am fortunate enough to have some of them in my life.

Of course, stifling my laughter as Australian Monica bitched out some young English jerk for throwing his cigarette butts on the ground was also pretty enjoyable. You damn English act like you still rule the world. ;)

So inappropriate.

So there's this guy in my Physics class who has the most beautiful hair. And I really want to touch it.

I'm not sure what his ethnic origins are, but Middle Eastern or Turkish seem possible, given his complexion and nose and various other little details I have noted during my surreptitious sidelong glances. This guy is beautiful. I mean, like how exotic Ottoman princes look in movies or romantic paintings or whatever. He almost reminds me of a sexed-up Jesus, w/his big, inscrutable brown eyes and a perpetual expression of serenity.

But it's his hair that gets me.

It's black, falling just below his shoulders and he keeps it in a low ponytail. Usually I find ponytails of any persuasion on a male to be completely revolting, but w/this guy, I just want to reach out and touch it. It's so lovely. It's the perfect texture and has this amazing sheen -- not greasy -- more like it's so soft and healthy that it actually radiates. The girl I babysit LOVES to play w/my hair, and her favorite thg. to do is to put it into a ponytail and take it back down and then put it back up and take it back down, ad nauseum (or until I can no longer feel my scalp and make her stop). That's what I want to do w/this guy's hair. I want to slide the elastic holder off of his ponytail and run my fingers through like a comb and then wrap the holder back around it. And take it off. And put it back on. And take it off. Ad nauseum.

Luckily, he sits behind me, so checking this undeniaby odd urge has not been much of an issue, but today I was walking behind him after class and my hands actually started tingling, like, I was digging my nails into my palms to keep myself fr. extending my fingers toward the coiff.

I feel like a stalker, except I don't actually follow him anywhere (on purpose).

But, seriously, this guy is hot, so if any of you single ladies among my acquaintance would like to run down here in the next wk. to check him out yourself, I would encourage that. And I swear that if you hooked up w/him I would not touch his hair. More than once.

"You could have made a 100%!"

So lamented my Physics professor after handing back my test w/its grade of 70%. He also said, "I expected you to make a 100%," which really boggles the mind b/c I cannot imagine what would have given him the impression that I know enough abt. what's going on in that class that he would *expect* me to make a perfect grade on the test. Perhaps he was misled by my regular attendance, or my perpetual grimace and occasional nodding during lecture, or maybe he honestly thinks I'm smart enough to do that well. I dunno. Either way, after going over my many mistakes w/Dr. A, I have determined that while it is possible (though not likely) that I am smart enough to have made a 100% on that test, I just don't care enough to try. I simply can't be asked.

All of my mistakes were the result of simple carelessness (lots of missing or misplaced negative signs) or an incomplete understanding of the concept at hand, not b/c it was hard, but just b/c I didn't feel like spending 10 more mins. making and memorizing some stupid flashcards. Seriously. I barely made a C on a not-too-difficult test b/c I'm f-ing lazy, end of story. Lazy ppl. do not do well in med school.

I need to sort this out.

On the upside, I still did better than most of the ppl. in my class (of course), so it appears that a curve is likely for our final grades, though Dr. A has been resistant heretofore. Goody for me. I have another Physio test on Wed. and am fending off contractions of panic that are coming more and more frequently as I realize I have less and less time to read all of the stuff I have been putting off for the last four wks....

....And yet, here I sit during my four-hr. break b/t classes NOT studying.

brilliant.

Balance.

I tried to end the last entry on a lighter note, but in case it didn't work out, I also thought I would include a few thgs. for which I am grateful:

1) Lent is over in less than a wk. -- praise Jesus! I will be celebrating the end of my Lenten ban on alcohol on Easter Sun. by extending the sacrament of Communion beyond its allotted 20 mins. during Mass and imbibing two bottles of wine (one red, one white) to joyously commemorate Jesus's miraculous return fr. the dead. I will probably be less enthusiastically celebrating my own similar miracle the next morning when I drag myself to school at 8am.

2) Today is mine and Eli's nine yr. anniversary -- how old are we?! Yes, it was on this day nine yrs. ago that I made Eli ask me to officially be his girlfriend. I have happily spent the last nine yrs. making Eli do an assortment of thgs. he may or may not have wanted to do. He seems happy, too.

3) My St. Andrews crew. We have been forced to move on separately w/life, but we maintain generally good contact and talking to or otherwise hearing fr. y'all makes me so happy. (Yeah, it's sappy, I know. But I talked to Benjamin yesterday and I'm going to CA to see Mar and Sarah in a few wks., so I'm becoming giddy w/excitement.)

4) I stole this fr. Duncan's blog b/c I thought it was good geeky fun:

Go to Wikipedia and look up your birth day (excluding the year). List three neat facts, two births and one death in your journal, including the year.

6 February

Neat Fact #1: These are actually two facts, but I got such a chortle out of the irony of them occurring on the same date that I put them together:
a) 1820 - The first 86 African American immigrants sponsored by the American Colonization Society started a settlement in present-day Liberia.

b) 1900 - The international arbitration court at The Hague is created when the Netherlands' Senate ratifies an 1899 peace conference decree.
hahahaha.... While Charles Taylor's trial is not to be held at The Hague, I think those of you w/a grasp of current events can see why this was funny to me.

Neat Fact #2: 1952 -- Elizabeth II becomes Queeb upon the death of her father George VI. At the exact moment of succession, she was in a treehouse at the Treetops Hotel in Kenya.
...Which is exactly where I would want to be at such moment. In fact, I might never have left the treehouse if I were her.

Neat Fact #3: 1998 -- Washington National Airport is renamed Ronald Reagan National Airport
....*tear* Ah, for the days when the Republican party was all abt. money-making and good parties, before it got all mixed up in this religion business. Pour yo' 40 out for Ronnie! (PS: He also shares the Best Day for a Birt-Day w/me, which is why the airport was renamed on 6 Feb. This does not count toward the requested two bdays.)

For some reason, MY birth was not included in Wikipedia, but I found these schlubs:
Birth(s) #1 (notable ladies): 1912 -- Eva Braun (HAHA!), 1917 -- Zsa Zsa Gabor (HAHA!), 1913 -- Mary Leakey (I love primates, too!), and 1976 -- Kim Zmeskal (I had a poster of her when I was a gymnast. Clearly, she was quite a bit better at [and more dedicated to] gymnastics than I was.). Also, 1577 -- Beatrice Cenci, Italian noblewoman who conspired to kill her father. I don't who she was, but I like 'er.

Birth(s) #2 (the fellas): 1564 -- Christopher Marlowe (he was a spy, a poet, a playwright, he liked to pick fights, and he may have been Shakespeare, if you go for conspiracy theories -- rock on), 1756 -- Aaron Burr (I don't care if they're illegal -- duels are f-ing cool, esp. if you're the winner), 1931 -- Rip Torn (HAHA!), 1932 -- Francois Truffaut (pretty fly for a French guy), 1945 -- Bob Marley (jammin'), and another musical superstar and the love of my life when I was 11, 1962 -- Axl Rose (leather pants in the "Sweet Child O'Mine" video -- ARGH!). Also, 1910 - Carlos Marcello, Tunisian-born gangster. I don't know who he was, but I like 'im.

Death: 1918 -- Gustav Klimt. The only thg. that consoled me after this loss was Magritte's embarkation upon his prolific Surrealist career shortly thereafter.
Also, oddly: 1986 -- Frederick Coutts, the 8th General of The Salvation Army (so are they a *real* Army??), and 1989 -- Chris Gueffroy, last person killed escaping over the Berlin wall (if the rest of the Communist military had continued the fight for so long, maybe they would have won the Cold War -- haha!)

I sometimes want to die (and take a few ppl. w/me)

So the other day I was riding w/a friend of mine to Savannah. Immediately after turning onto the main road out of town, we were forced to come to a complete stop in the middle of the road to allow a funeral procession to exit the funeral home on the left. I did not pay close attention to the caravan since such thgs. make me want to cry b/c I know what it's like to forever lose a loved one; to sit through the memorial thinking in no chronological or emotional order of memories you shared w/this person in life, punctuated by visions of their smile, their laugh, and the recognition that you will never see these thgs. again; to gather your shattered concentration long enough to drive to the burial site; and to then watch as your friend or family member is lowered into the ground and dirt is thrown on top, forming a progressively impenetrable barrier b/t you and them. Death is a big deal. And it makes me cry to think of other ppl. having to experience that sort of loss b/c I can think of how it felt/would feel for me to be in their position. So I didn't look closely at the motorcade slowly entering the road in front of us, but I DID notice it, esp. since we had to sit in the middle of traffic for several mins.

My companion, the driver, apparently managed to miss what was happening right in front of our faces.

On the way out of town, I became increasingly confused and angry as he complained abt. how slow we were moving, abt. why there were so many cops on the road (to allow the procession to move unimpeded), how a funeral procession should not hold up the rest of traffic (I guess they're supposed to race to the cemetery and hope that everyone makes it??), and abt. how dumb it was that ppl. in our lane were going so slow when the procession wasn't even near us. It occurred to me after this last comment that perhaps my friend did not know where the caravan was, b/c it was directly in front of us and I told him as much. Three times. I pointed it out THREE TIMES, saying w/what I thought was complete clarity, "THAT [pointing at the long line of cars moving in our lane of traffic] is the funeral procession." I had hoped this would penetrate to my friend's brain and heart and elicit a more sympathetic response, that he would consider the emotional state of the ppl. in that line of cars, would remember the times that he lost someone he loved. This, it turned out, was over-optimistic of me.

The sighs of exasperation continued and then got worse when we moved out of the town proper and the speed limit went up, but we were still moving at a muted pace. My friend ultimately sped up to try to pass the whole line, but met resistance when he encountered ppl. in the right-hand lane who had pulled over or slowed to a speed even lower than that of the funeral procession, as drivers are wont to do OUT OF RESPECT TO THE BEREAVED. This is esp. true here in the South, where, as my stepfather once lamented, ppl. are more likely to pull over for a funeral than an ambulance. In fact, ppl. here pull over even if they are in the opposing lane of traffic. It's just smthg. we do out of consideration for others who are trying to grapple w/one of the most difficult facts of life. This, too, was lost on my companion, who proceeded to cut INTO the funeral procession and to scoff at my explanation for why ppl. who were not going to the funeral were still driving as if they were.

The crowning moment came, however, when we had to make a left-hand turn on to another road, the same road onto which the procession turned. It turned out that my friend had cut in front of the last person in the line of mourners and she was desperate to try to keep up w/the rest, probably b/c she wasn't fr. around here and didn't want to get separated fr. them on some country-ass road in the middle of nowhere. As we approached the left turn lane, my driver started to move into the lane and was incensed to find that the driver behind us was scurrying to close the gap b/t herself and the rest of the funeral procession, resulting in my friend nearly side-swiping her as he moved over.

One guess what happened next.

My friend had the audacity to not just honk at the woman -- which I could almost have excused, since it's sort of a natural reaction when you're on the road and smthg. happens that could endanger your safety, regardless of who is really at fault -- but further, to hurl obscenities and slurs and give her the finger. He flipped off a person hurrying to follow her dead loved one to his or her final resting place, trying to be there for the last moments of that person's time above ground.

I have never been so upset in my entire life. I think I hit him. I definitely yelled at him. He attempted to defend himself by saying, "She's probably not even going to the funeral!" I just wanted to cry, get sick, and throw myself out of the still-moving car. I wanted to kill smthg. he loved so that he would know what that person was feeling. I wanted to be as far away as possible fr. this person whom I have somehow grown to love, but who is so incapable of thinking of others that he couldn't even act appropriately when presented w/the most obvious occasion for sympathy. It didn't even matter if the woman wasn't going to the funeral (which, as it turned out, she WAS), the point was that my friend didn't know whether she was or not, but rather than thinking beyond himself and erring on the side of caution (which would have allowed the woman to get in front of him w/minimal fuss), he threw a fit and behaved in a manner so vulgar and insulting it made me want to die.

I will never understand how ppl. can be so thoughtless, so thoroughly selfish that they ignore any common sense they might have (and my friend is quite smart; he has the raw ability to think better of his actions) and act in ways that make it physically painful to be alive in this world. I j u s t d o n ' t g e t i t. Though I have tried to inure myself against what I have long recognized to be an inevitable fact of human existence, I have met w/little success. It hurts just as much now as it did yrs. ago and what hurts even more is that my immediate reaction when someone behaves in such a careless, hurtful manner is to hurt them right back, purposefully, pointedly, and deeply. My first reaction makes me worse than them b/c I want them to hurt. I didn't just want to yell at my friend, to call him names, or point out to him the ways in which his behavior made him THE Biggest Jerk in the Entire World. I didn't even want to hurt him physically, not really. What I wanted to do was take smthg. fr. him he loves more than he knows. I wanted him to hurt fr. the inside and I wanted to be the one to do it.

I was inexpressibly angry and hurt by my friend's utter lack of consideration for someone else's potential emotional state, but his behavior and its impact on the other driver was, at the root, the result of carelessness, not premeditation. My response was considerably more directed. I'm not sure, but I have a feeling this desire for wilful retribution makes me pretty close to evil, which does little to make me feel better abt. being alive in a world already so full of it.

Or maybe it means I should find a cape and a sidekick and become a masked crusader for justice. I dunno. Eamonn *did* just send me the Guide to Real Ultimate Power, so I figure I could probably be jump-kicking ninja-for-justice in abt. five days. If anyone is interested in subsidizing my super-hero bid, I wear size XS and my weapon of choice is the laser beam. I'll supply the telekinesis.