Twitter / atb20

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

wantingness

- (n.) a state of constantly wanting stuff

i live in this state. despite the fact that i am supremely fortunate in all of the most important ways (love, health, education, some income), i seem to always want something more. mil often remarks how often i say "ooh, i want _____." (e.g., i want to go to italy; i want a dog; i want a baby; i want another bird; i want a bigger apartment; i want to live in brooklyn; i want to live in london; i want a chinchilla; i want to go to scotland; i want to live in the west village; i want to own a townhouse; i want to open a store; i want to be more creative; i want a neice or nephew; i want to quit school; i want to quit work; i want a cat; i want to live on the beach; i want a garden... anyway, you get the picture). the point is that i can't have any of these things right now. i have to wait until i have more money and more time. i know that there's some whole consumerist theory driven by the american capitalist system that i am falling prey to, but somehow it doesn't make it better. even that time several posts back when i was freaked about being "with child," i was secretly excited because it meant that my very predictable life would be thrown for a loop. something would have to change.

i never thought of myself as the kind of person who likes upheaval, especially because i'm a "nester" by nature, but it seems that i kind of thrive on having stuff change. i guess over time, i've gotten used to things shaking-up every few years -- elementary school was probably the longest i'd lived in the same place and went to the same school for more than 4 years. lately, i've lived in the same place, had the same job, had the same man, and had the same bird for upwards of three years. while i'm quite happy about the last two, thank-you-very-much, i feel like something needs to change for me to feel like i'm progressing. is that odd? maladjusted? perhaps. i tried getting into the whole quaker mindset of not wanting new things, but i was painfully unsuccessful. at one point i realized that i was just into it because "i wanted a new religion." sad...

Monday, May 30, 2005

it's memorial day...

...and i'm at work! yuck. walking across campus you could hear a pin drop it's so darn quiet here. hell, you could almost hear a pin drop on broadway this morning. so sucks to be here... what made it even worse is that the trains are running on holiday schedules, so they only come like once every 20 minutes (and that's how long i usually give myself to get here). when i finally got to my building, i found it locked and unwilling to accept my id as adequate proof that i work here. i actually didn't mind the walk across campus to get security to let me in because it meant i had another ten minutes of beautiful, sunny outdoor weather before climbing into my underground bunker. my boss actually said that if there were a nuclear attack on new york, he would actually seek shelter in our office -- that's how bad it is. he suggested stocking up on flashlights and canned soup...

in order to bring a little joy to my memorial monday, i'm attaching this adorable pic of izzy. pink yumminess...

Sunday, May 29, 2005

invasion of the bugaboos

so, today it was gorgeous. i've been waiting for this day for weeks -- sunny, 70s, a nice breeze... this is what may should be! it just so happened that this day also collided with the first day of mil's between term long weekend. (he finished his last final friday and starts his summer class on wednesday -- they do call it the city that never sleeps, but this might not be what mil had in mind.)

anyway, we took the free day and the good weather to be a directive from the almighty (whatever that may be) to get the h*ll outside. we happily obliged, donning our rollerblades and wristguards, still warm from last year's perspiration, and heading to the park. unfortunately, we weren't the only one's who though memorial day weekend would be a good time to enjoy the new summer weather. everyone was out there, and everyone was pushing a stroller. all of the ladies who were busy gestating over the winter seem to have burst forth this spring. there were bugaboos aplenty -- and after my new blog addiction (thank you daddytypes and dr. au for the education), i now know my $800 strollers from my $150 strollers. i pointed this out to mil, and he had to start shouting to me every time we passed a couple pushing a bugaboo: "I CAN"T BELIEVE THEY PAID $800 FOR A STROLLER -- A FREAKIN' STROLLER!" my attempts to quiet him down were all for naught.

as a side note, i must inform all of those normal (aka not carrying plastic lightsabers or wookie puppets) folks who were quite impressed with this most recent star wars the first time around -- don't go back. it will only disappoint. the first time around you are impressed because your expectations are so low that it can't possibly be that bad. the second time around you remember how impressed you were and forget how absolutely inane the dialoge and most of the acting was. i barely stayed awake. my advice -- just see it once, and be happy.

finally, i must give a shout-out (heh, i'm sooo not the kind of person who can say "shout-out" and not laugh at myself) to my friend, the metsfan, who helps keep my counter numbers rising. you rock! (and i'll try to be more sensitive when it comes to make-out scenes on the blog). till next time...

Friday, May 27, 2005

so impressed...

...with voinovich! the man actually started crying when talking in the senate about the nomination of bolton to the un. he said he had to think about his kids and his grandkids, and he hoped his colleagues would "do some serious thinking before they go to the 'well' on this one."

here's the clip if you're interested. thanks radioblogger.

amen!

just last night as i was doing dishes after a meal well-consumed, i found myself singing: "oh, lord, won't you buy me a mer-ce-deez benz." now i am known to get some bizarre, random songs stuck in my head, but i could not tell you where in the world this one came from... i don't think i've heard it since the 1980s.

anyway, this song caused me to think... (and rarely does that happen) ...about how well this captures religion -- or at least christianity -- in this era. this is a time when christianity is being used as a weapon to divide and conquer the american people. it is being used as a tool to support greed and hypocrisy at every level. when i think of christianity, i think about what i learned in the few visits i made to church in my formative years. (coming from several generations of agnostic, i don't claim to be an expert.) every church i went to spoke about the mission of jesus -- how he saved lepers, fed the poor, comforted prostitutes... this does not sound like the kind of man who would choose to argue over stem cells or the rights of homosexuals when children were hungry and people were dying. rep. senfronia thompson says it better than i ever could in molly ivins' article on the creators syndicate. for those of you who disparage texans for being the worst kind of republican (and, yes, we are unfortunate to have a very prominent texan misrepresenting us on a global scale), i say, take a look at these lovely ladies.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

and i don't believe in time

i'm still not sure exactly why i chose to name this blog what i did... i guess that i didn't think that i would use it for more than a couple of days, so i just didn't really care at the time. now that it has been several weeks, i'm feeling tempted to start a new blog with a name that's a little more representative of what i'm about. we'll see though. i still don't really feel like i've found my blog-niche, so maybe we'll keep it as is.

one of the reasons i'm re-thinking the blog name is because i don't really believe in time. i know this sounds strange -- when i told my folks, they looked at me like i'd joined some sort of cult. i guess i should be more specific though. i believe that time exists insofar as it is part of the way that we as humans perceive the world around us, but it doesn't exist in that it is not some external thing in the environment. i believe that if human brains were structured differently, we would not be constrained by time at all. i know this either seems super looney or retardedly philosphical, but i just think it's strange for someone who doesn't believe in time to elegize about a youth that's been "lost." in fact, i don't actually believe that my youth is lost. i feel like it still exists in some sense, i'm just unable to revisit it because of my inability to see past the laws of time.

i first realized that i was a little kookier than your average joe at the ripe old age of 3 (or perhaps 4). maybe i'm not the only one who's had this experience, but one day i walked into my preschool class and -- perhaps i was overly tired from a late night of partying -- but i wondered if i was still asleep and only dreaming that i was in my classroom. i realized that i had no way of proving to myself that my body was really awake and experiencing the classroom. it kind of frightened me, but then i shook it off and went back learning the basics of walking with scissors. it didn't really come up again until i took my first philosophy class, and i learned that a guy named decartes had the same difficulty at a much older age. after confirming my realization that i wasn't the only kook out there, i went on to study psychology. i thought, "for sure, these psychologists have faced this conundrum head-on and come up with a brilliant way that we can prove that what we see is what is out there." after a disappointing (though actually fantastically interesting) class on sensation and perception, i realized that they really have no clue either. it was this realization that led me to truly accept my intuitive belief that the world "out there" really has very little to do with what i experience "in here" (namely in my brain). that said, since i haven't been able to find any other way to be, i guess i'll just go on and enjoy myself while i'm here...

i'd love to hear what other folks have to say on the subject... assuming any of ya'll think that this is interesting...at...all...

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

blogging on company time

so here's what i did today: woke up (thinking mil had mistakenly set the alarm for 4 in the morning -- rain, blech); woke-up bird; put bird in shower; put my half-asleep body in shower; mil risked his life to join bird and me in shower (he said he was in a hurry, but i know that he just wanted the extra few moments of seeing me in the buff); added appropriate quantities of shampoo, conditioner, body wash, moisturizer, clothing, contacts, hair gel, etc.; fed bird; waited for the elevator; waited for the train; waited to get up the stairs from train (while being late for first class of the summer); stopped for coffee and pop-tarts despite being late for class; sheepishly entered classroom to find professor to be familiar (i had switched out of her class because she was a little too quirky for my taste -- and, believe me, it requires quite a bit of quirk to be "too quirky" for me); braved the two block walk between class and work; ate lunch; sat and read blogs about pregnant people for the next five hours... and here we are! thrilling, eh? you want my life, i know... (i've just realized that even i wouldn't read my blog if it weren't...well...me. btw, thanks to the two kind folks who left me little notes to know i'm not alone here.)

news of the day? senate agrees to keep the filibuster...for now... i wish i could say that i'm happy, and, hell, it could be much worse given the way that republicans are running all three branches of the gov't these days, but that owen woman has to be pretty damn looney to get her ass handed to her by attorney general gonzales. see this for more.

mil and i watched "super size me" last night. what a fun film! that guy is crazy though. i'm sorry, but if all three of my doctors told me that i could die if i continued eating micky d's, i'd say "screw the movie -- this is my life." clearly this guy was not me. i'm surprised that after his blood tests came back saying that there was urea in his blood, his vegan girlfriend didn't just tie him to a bed and force-feed him vegetables. i would've.

anyway, i've gotta figure out some work-like thing to do for the next three hours because this pregnancy blog stuff just makes my biological clock tick faster... that and i am being paid to be here...

Sunday, May 22, 2005

i was feeling a little sad that there were no izzy pics on the current blog page, so i thought i'd add one...


i'm feeling a little random today. it's kind of grey and drizzly and these allergies have yet to fully dissipate. at the same time, i am itching for a flying dog ale which we bought with our fresh direct order this weekend. mil and i used to frequent a little grocery store down in the w. village when i lived there, and they sold all of their various yummy beers. but when we moved up to the middle west side (aka clinton hill/hell's kitchen-ish), we had to go without -- that is until i noticed the little "wine/beer" icon on the fresh direct page. here's to the small pleasures in life!

the man and i reclaimed a little of our youth at msg last night. i hadn't been to a u2 concert since high school, and last night i remembered why. some people thrive on crowds of sweaty, young white folk -- i, however, am not one of them. i love u2's music, and they've got some fun light-show style theatrics that jazzed-up the crowd, but i was a little frightened by the religious ferver with which the throng greeted mr. bono. the whole mass would go up in arms every time he faced their direction. now, don't get me wrong, i think he's a talented vocalist, a pretty cool advocate for the poor, and sexy to boot, but he's still just a middle-aged irish guy with a mic. not worth selling your soul to the dark side. i don't know, maybe i'm just too old for this. then again, i don't remember loving it in my teens. i was always much more for dancing around my room and imagining he was singing just for me... tough to do when you're surrounded by thousands of other women with the exact same fantasy.

Friday, May 20, 2005

ode to the er

i don't know if it's the congestion talking, but some days i just don't feel like writing. i think this is why i gave up my junior high diary after the first big crush didn't pan out. life is always interesting, but sometimes it doesn't feel blog worthy -- especially now that i know that occasionally blog-junkies like myself might happen by. i want to make sure to keep the place tidy... or is that not really what a blog's about? perhaps this is just the place to let it all out and be the can't-seem-to-clean-the-birdcage-or-bathtub kind of slob that i am.

in the spirit of letting it all out, i'll tell you about my lovely evening last night, and you will soon realize how truly wonderful my man is -- and how little you really want me to let it all out. as "er" was coming to a close in the other room, i was desperately trying to get myself into bed. this seems to always involve several last minute trips to the kitchen for water and bathroom for pre-sleep wee, but this evening involved a few too many trips to the old loo. i would lie down and moments thereafter the overwhelming feeling that i'm going to wee in bed would strike. i'd run back to the bathroom only to sit and cry. then i went back to bed and cried realizing that i was not going to get any sleep at all. mil kept checking in on me to make sure that i wasn't really dying, and after seeing me lying in bed in tears suggested a late night trip to the er. i was actually so miserable that despite my better judgment i went, and the truly amazing thing was that mil came with me. granted, the alternative was to attempt to sleep beside a woman writhing and crying in pain all night, but i was still quite impressed. he sat there with me as i waited impatiently (and quite uncomfortably) to see nurse #1, resident #1, nurse #2, nurse #2 again, resident #2, clerk, attending, and finally nurse #3. i was happy (and mil was happier) to leave after my two hour visit to the real er, and i was actually so exhausted that despite the fact that i only left with a first dose of antibiotics in my system i fell right to sleep when we finally made it home at 2am. i'm still exhausted (and congested), but i take comfort in the knowledge that i've got one of the best guys around. i officially declare today "mil rocks day!"

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

couple dates

the other night mil and i had dinner with a couple of new friends. the fellow is a guy who works with me in my lab, and the girlfriend is interested in possibly going into social work -- and starting a course at my school this summer. it's interesting how the process of making new "couple friends" can be a lot like dating... will my guy like him? will i like her? what if she's a b*tch? what if we have nothing to talk about? in fact, this process might actually be more difficult than dating since there are four people to please instead of just two. alternatively, one might might argue that there's less at stake (i.e., little to no chance that you will end up seeing the other couple naked at the end of the evening). but, then again, if you're like me, the number of people who are worth a coveted week-night, let alone a weekend-night, is awfully short -- and for good reason. if i'm going to sacrifice my very limited socializing hours with new folks, those folks better be damn cool. fortunately, in this case, these new folks passed the bar.

mil and i have established a pretty rigorous screening process for potential couple-dates, including several pre-dinner/brunch/whathaveyou discussions debating pros and cons of proposed couple. if the proposer only knows one member of the couple, the proposer must establish in sufficient detail how unique and likeable that individual really is. it may seem like a lot of work for an evening out, but it's well worth it...

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

congestion

for those of you who know me (and i have no delusion that there are any people reading this blog who aren't currently sitting at a computer one level beneath the Columbia campus typing t-h-i-s-a-s-w-e-s-p-e-a-k) know that this has been a particularly congested year for me. somehow i have caught every single bug, virus, cold, flu, bacterial infection that has hit the east coast. when the sun started to break through the clouds and 60+ became a regular sight on weather.com, i thought that i may have finally beaten the odds. the predicatable sore throat in the morning dissipated. i was able to kiss my husband again -- on the mouth, no less! i felt comfortable walking outside with wet hair, etc. sure enough, as soon as i leave ny to spend a weekend in minneapolis with a friend i hardly ever visit (you can figure out why by reading the beginning of that sentence again), i get an unshakeable case of cement head. i like breathing! i like hearing, too! hell, occasionally, i even like thinking... none of which can adequately be done when you have a cement block in your head... just fyi.

anyway, i know all one of you has been anxiously awaiting my update, so here it is. i will attempt more interesting posts once i regain use of my head...

Thursday, May 12, 2005

a bad case of dementia

some things hurt worse than others. scraping up your knee isn't quite as painful as giving birth to a child. and saying good-bye to your childhood is not nearly as painful as saying good-bye to your memories of childhood.

my grandmother just found out yesterday that she's officially losing her memory. not the usual "i can't remember where i put that book." but more "i can't remember who i just spoke to." i have not heard the word "alzheimers" yet (thank goodness!), but it is in the air. i know that this is difficult for anyone, but my grandmother is not your usual senior citizen. she's been living on her own in las vegas since her husband died fifteen years ago. she took me to my first "booby" show when i was thirteen (not that i had much interest in boobies at the time, but i remember her commenting to my parents that "aw, it's no big deal -- you can hardly tell that they're topless anyway"). she tap dances with "the girls" at airports and nursing homes. she would always lie for us if we were caught gambling underage. she paints and sews sparkly costumes for the "happy hoofers" in her down time. she stops by the local casino to play the nickel machines on quiet nights, and she won't eat dinner till she's had her "cocktail" (absolut on the rocks). she'll tell a dirty joke and swig a beer with the best of 'em and still look the part of the grande dame. this woman has had it together for nine decades and hasn't gone to a doctor for more than a cold. it's just not f***ing fair!

i was talking to her for about five minutes this afternoon, and she asked me three times in a row whether i'd be calling my mom on her cell phone. it's a small thing, but she never did that before. i feel like someone has snuck into my grammie's brain and taken a little of her away from me. i know she feels the same. she's never been one to admit her age, and she's never felt that her age really has anything to do with her. she's insulted that she of all people is losing her marbles, and i don't blame her. there must be far less happy, less attractive, less agile folks who don't need their marbles as much as she! i'm still hoping that someone will discover it is just some kind of bad allergy, and she'll get over it a few days, but i haven't ever heard of a "bad case of dementia."

anyway, here's to hoping...

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

ye old right wing

i was just reading the paper this morning when i was struck in the head by a cudgel of stupidity. apparently, our esteemed congressmen think that the private institutions who run prisons and jails accross the country are just not quite fat enough. now we want to imprison people for being black or latino. officially, they want mandatory minimums for "gang" crimes. i'm so flabbergasted that i don't even know where to begin on this one. the inherent racism? that gang activity actually sprung out of the prison system in the first place? that mandatory sentences (i.e., the rockefeller drug laws) have proven to be the worst blight on young urban minorities since slavery? that mandatory minimums do nothing to eradicate gang activity?

that anyone would see mandatory sentences as a way to curtail gang violence is completely incomprehensible (think wallace shawn in the princess bride)! in new york state, social workers (and anyone else who actually thinks for two minutes about the state of the correctional system) are trying to come up with ways to repeal mandatory drug sentences because a) they don't work, b) they virtually eliminate judicial discrimination, c) they have engorged an already overcrowded (and shall i add extremely expensive) prison system, and d) did i mention, they don't work!

mandatory minimums basically take away judicial discretion when it comes to sentencing. so, for instance, if an mother of four with no history of violence is caught muling so she can afford to feed her kids, her circumstances cannot be considered when it comes time for sentencing. If this is the third time she's been caught, she automatically gets a minimum of 12 years (that's twelve years that her children are living without a mother!). for those that argue that harsh minimums discourage people from committing the crime in the first place, i say "show me the numbers!" the kids who are choosing a life of crime aren't going to be dissuaded by minimum sentences. in fact, you're much more likely to turn a kid who made a dumb mistake into a hardened criminal by making sure that he gets well acquainted with kind of folks who spend their lives behind bars.

at least randy forbes is being honest about why he wants the bill. he said, "the crime-probability ages are 15- to 24-year-olds, and if you take the person off the streets for that period then the statistics go enormously away in terms of perpetrating additional crimes." hey, with that logic, why don't we just screw the bill and put all 15 to 24 year olds behind bars! while we're at it, let's just make it a crime to be black or latino! who the fuck elected this shmuck to congress??

anyway, that will lead me into my whole divesting washington of politicians theory... that's one for another day.

Monday, May 09, 2005

evangelism -- new york style

when you think of evangelists, you probably think of some jim bakker-type, standing in the middle of one of those mega-churches with stadium seating in the vicinity of the bible belt. you probably don't think of a suitcase full of flyers and a busy corner of harlem (or washington heights). i didn't either until i started frequenting the place. turns out i can't make my commute to the bronx without running into at least one -- which is more than i ever saw in texas. (in texas you can avoid them by skipping the channel.)

the other day a friend and i were waiting for the train at 125th and Lenox (and i was chowing on a some much-needed grub), and a man came up to us. "do you worship god or do you worship the devil?" now how do you answer a question like this? "neither, of course." "you either worship god or your worship the devil. which do you worship?" "neither." "god made that food that you're eating." "i didn't realize... that was nice of him." "god made that food." (okay, dude, you already said that...) "how 'bout mother earth? you're not giving her any credit." at this point he waves his hand (as if to say "there's a lost soul if i've ever seen one") and walks away to pursue a larger, much less amused individual... so, for future reference, if you're ever being pursued by a rabid street-evangelist, a good way to flip the "off" switch seems to be any reference to a female deity.

as an homage to the female deity of your choice, here's a photo of some of her better work.
dogwood in bloom

Saturday, May 07, 2005

the white house

today i blog from the comfort of a study in this big contraption called a "house." now to those new yorkers (and other apartment dwellers) among us, a "house" is a big living space with multiple rooms, exterior walls on all four sides, and occasionally occupies more than one level. it's wild. this house is actually a town house (so it only has three exterior walls), and it belongs to my parents.

now my parents recently remodeled this place in what must objectively be called "good taste." as most of my friends will aver, my parents have really good taste, and the budget to actually enforce it on their living spaces. (i claim to have inherited the former, but not the latter.) the place is spruced up with real wood floors, original artwork, shaker cabinets, and basalt countertops. my favorite feature though is the water pressure in the shower. i can actually take a five-minute shower -- something that is virtually impossible in our humble abode (and mil will back me up on this one). the only problem with the place, however, is the fact that it was clearly decorated by a post-menapausal couple. all of the floors, cabinets, and towels are white. no, i mean really white. aesthetically, this is quite lovely, but when you happen to be visiting, and you happen to not be pregnant (see previous post), you would really prefer a nice brown, thready, worn out towel. it's just polite...

anyway, i'm sure the few folks who are actually reading this blog would prefer not to hear about all aspects of moosk's biological functions. so here goes: i, moosk, do solemnly swear to not talk about any of my biological functions for the next week. i like to give myself manageable goals...

Thursday, May 05, 2005

life on the edge

i know that every sexually active woman has at one point or another been through a day like the one i'm just recovering from. there's the slow realization, that at this time last month you were . . . um . . . how shall i say . . . well aware of your femininity, and so far this month, you're not feeling so . . . feminine. at first this is just a minor irritation, but as the day progresses, your mind wanders back to "what if . . . ?" what if I have to nurse a newborn while I go to class, work full-time, and see clients? what if we have to move back in with my parents to afford food for the baby? does this mean that I'm really not that much better than britney? these questions start innocently enough and are easily rebuffed by such excuses as "but we've been enoying eachother's company for five years, and sperm has yet to meet egg" and "i get paranoid about this time every month." Over time though, they start to fill all of the little spaces in the brian where thoughts usually occur, and mental process as you know it ceases to exist. at a certain point in the afternoon, you notice that you've been going to the restroom about every five minutes in the hope that this time you'll see a sign that there's no need to fear. rarely, but it does happen, the paranoioa strikes so deep that on the way home you buy a pregnancy test just to get full use of your brain back. fortunately, for the time being, this will be the only "little one" around our house...

huh?

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

privilege

some days i'm just amazed at the world i live in. as part of my internship i work with families in the south bronx in a violence prevention program. we meet for eleven weeks at a given school and talk about violence in the community and ways that parents can help their kids grow up to be violence-free. there's nothing to make you feel privileged more than sitting with a bunch of women your own age who have multiple children, zero to no help from the father(s) of these children, and live in a neighborhood that does much more to ensure that these kids will never graduate high school and never get a decent job than help them grow up. as someone who grew up in a safe neighborhood where kids ran outside in the streets and rode bikes and climbed fences with intermittent supervision from the age of three on up, it boggles my mind that these children have never even felt safe in their own apartments. crack and marijuana smoke cloud the halls; violent arguments between neighbors (and sometimes parents) easily seep through apartment walls; gunshots fired a few blocks away occasionally make their way through an unfortunately-placed window (and once an unfortunately-placed child watching tv). and that's just inside the apartment. that's not talking about the old men who fondle young girls as they walk down the street, or the 13-year old girl who was shot by strangers in a funeral parlor during her relative's funeral, or the high school kids who stab another kid to death by the subway because they were dating the same girl. the deathly fear i faced in the days and weeks following 9/11 is the same fear these children face on a daily basis in their neighborhood. my fear came from one horrific event, but these children face a lifetime of living in a world that has always been dangerous and unfriendly. now imagine being the mother of these children, not knowing whether your kids will make it to school alive, not knowing whether that siren blaring past your building is rushing to the aid of your 12-year old daughter who's just been cut by a friend. these parents i meet live in constant fear for their children's lives and safety. they can't even let their kids play in the local park for fear of the repercussions, and they have to walk their kids up and down the apartment steps for fear of who's lurking in the hallways.

i have no patience for coddled politicians who claim that these people just need to get off their lazy asses in order to improve their lives. who are these white men who claim that "welfare mothers" have no right to their hard-earned tax dollars? how many of those men have sat down and had a chat with just one "welfare mother" let alone walked in their shoes?? i probably don't even need a hand to count them on. am i the only person who realizes that all of the power and privilege i was born with was just a luck of the draw? why can't these people be greatful for their good fortune and share a little of the pie? what have they got to lose? only one hummer for little dicky this year... aw shucks...

i'm sorry, but i wish every white man in washington had to live a week as a mother on public assistance before he started blowing hot air about where his tax dollars should go (just like i wish every white man on capitol hill had to get pregnant at least once before he could vote on the reproductive rights of women). i know, i know... never gonna happen... but a gal can dream..

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

blog addiction

so, this is now my sixth day of blogging, and i think it is now a full fledged addiction. not writing it, but reading it. i can't stop. i'm tired of reading about other people's lives, and yet, i click on the link for the next page-full of ramblings. no wonder some of the more entertaining bloggers have hundreds of random strangers (aka "visitors") reading about their lives. it's legal crack!

i have a headache from spending too much time in front of the computer, but mil is in a crappy mood (and stepping in birdshit didn't seem to help), and i'm not allowed to watch tv. i could technically work on my paper that's due thursday, but that doesn't sound like too much fun... any suggestions?? i think i need a dog. bird is too self-involved. i need a pet with full-time entertainment capacity -- none of this preening shit. ooh, maybe i could pull up my pal jon stewart and watch some daily show clips before my battery dies.

i think i need to find blogs of other women who are living with husbands who want to go to med school. perhaps we can start a support group... brain clearly addled by too much blogging...

Monday, May 02, 2005

riotous laughter

i'm tired, so there won't be much blog action tonight, but i just had to share a moment of pure joy that happened this very night, in this very apartment. (and, no, it's not what you're thinking.) mil and i were just taking a mid-paper-writing make-out break, when he started kissing my neck. now i am one of those irish-etc. dames whose skin flares at the mere sight of facial hair, so i've never been very good with the neck kisses. tonight, however, was an entirely different story -- instead of cringing in fear, i started giggling. giggling turned into laughing, and laughing turned into non-stop, tear-soaked, gasping for breath, cramp-inducing glee. it's been a long time comin', but thanks for the laughs, hon.

Sunday, May 01, 2005

extreme pleasantness

why must sundays be perfect? do they have to rub it in that tomorrow's monday? I mean seriously -- it's not fair. yesterday i had to wake up early, walk for hours in the cold rain, work on my paper, wait for my husband to come home from his study group... not bad, but sure could be better. today? slept late, woke up to many husband hugs, ate a yummy biscuits n' gravy at favorite w. village restaurant with good friends, walked all around village with my man, looked at cute puppies, ate tacos, watched simpsons (and eagerly await the new family guy), and look forward to a bowl of ice cream... mmm... ice cream. it doesn't get much better than that, and it has to end with a monday. so depressing...

anyway, i'm going to post a picture from another wonderful day... enjoy!