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« April 2004 | Main | June 2004 »
We Have Brains Collaboration Topic: Feminist Men.
May 31, 2004
I swear I had a better collab topic yesterday, but a gnome ate that part of my brain. So I give you Roni's lame ass collab topic of the year (yeah, it's early, I can still out do myself):Who are the top 5 feminist boys/men you love? And why?
These can be your dad, Moby, or Prince Charming. On your marks, set, go!
I'm probably more than a little jaded about men in general, but I really don't think there are any men that I know that I consider to be feminist. I think there are definitely feminist allies and men who are helpful to the cause of feminism, but I'm really wary of giving that title to any man.
I guess in my experience, the only men I've known who call themselves feminists are really NOT actually even close to being feminist. In fact, it almost seems like the louder a man talks about his feminist ideology, the more apt he is to be completely NOT in touch with his privilege.
Which I suppose is a consistent symptom of privilege in general. Those who really understand the depth of their privilege, it seems, have too much work to do to really believe that calling themselves something will help in any way.
A thought about gore's remarks...
May 31, 2004
I'm not a huge fan of Gore*, but can you even IMAGINE our current president using the term "Faustian?"
(*and I really don't actually agree with much of what he says in this article, but he says it elegantly and intelligently, and I respect that.)
Breaking the Silence, Taking Back Your Birth
May 31, 2004
startle the echoes: babies, breasts
we've got to break this silence. We've got to take back this miraculous process and share it with other women. They need to know. We don't live in close communities anymore where children grow up around it, hearing it, helping out with it. It's hidden in a hospital room, controlled by people who have been trained to intervene. Seriously, doctors are trained to do something, they're not even comfortable with letting the process happen on its own. That's another blog story. It's late. Let's keep talking about this though. Hey, I know what to do - let's shout it out!
My first baby was born in a hospital. I fell COMPLETELY for their "You get to tell us how you want it to be, and we will honor your request." That's the last thing they told me in the examining room, the FIRST thing they did in the hospital room was tell me to lie back while they shoved the IV in my arm, ignoring my protests.
I think hospital workers, consciously or not, are well-trained in the art of disempowering their patients. But a disempowered birth is an arduous birth. They didn't have my cooperation because they were forcing me to work AGAINST my body to birth my son. I got tired. I got exhausted. I got demerol. And I got even more tired. I don't even remember moaning.
My second birth was at home. I was treated like the authority of my body. It was the exact opposite experience. I chose the position (or, rather, my body chose it) and birthed on my hands and knees. I was supported by my midwife and some wonderful women who were present, and I had a sense of euphoria and power through the entire process. It was wonderful.
I can't tell women enough how much of a difference a homebirth made in my life. I owe a lot of my own rebirth to the experience of birthing my second son. I did learn a lot during the hospital birth, too...but I wish I had NOT learned those things, whereas with the home birth, I am so very grateful for all I learned.
There was pain. Lots of it. But my body found a way to position itself to minimize the pain. For instance, I absolutely COULD NOT sit down or lay down, the pain was just WAY too intense. Which is odd, because I spent the entire hospital birth laying down on my bath, asking for them to please let me get up and walk around, and being told that wasn't an option for me. I'm certain that it would have taken less time and pain for my first birth had I been allowed to make my own choices. I'm just thankful it wasn't WORSE than it turned out.
I am afraid that women cringe when they think of homebirth. That perhaps women are afraid of the pain, or perhaps they are afraid of the mess, or perhaps they just feel like "modern"=better. Cole's birth was a journey for me. Well, it was the end of a journey which started at conception. It was wonderful, painful, beautiful, strange, enlightening, scary, and altogether integral to who I am today.
Blogging about Blogging, and my life.
May 31, 2004
I just looked back at the last week's blog entries, and I realized I haven't been writing a lot. In general, for the past few months, I feel like that's the case here. I'll link and throw a comment in or maybe write about my day, but I haven't really been able to muster the energy to write with any detail about anything.
I think, too, I freaked myself out a bit teaching that blog class. I was talking about focus, and looking at all of these really cool blogs with a specific focus, and I started to feel like my blog lacks focus. That it is, in fact, an excercise in complete and utter vanity and there's really no point. Blogistentialism?
Plus, the major events of the past week haven't really been things that I feel comfortable posting here. Things about the upcoming divorce. Things that I feel I need to keep private for whatever reason. I share those things (mostly complaining, really) for my livejournal friends.
But I suppose there are some things I can share at this point, since I've already shared them with L. I'm having him served at work. I felt like I had no other option. I didn't want him served here at the house while he was watching the kids because I didn't know how he would respond, and I don't (didn't) have an address for him. I still don't have an address for him, but I know where he will be living after today.
I felt like I needed to give him fair warning that he would be served at work. It was a risk, I admit. I was warned not to do it, but it didn't seem...nice. I dunno. I have this thing about niceness. I have this thing where I feel like he needs to know all of the options. Plus, I really have listened to everyone who has told me that "I know him best" and that I really can't take anyone else's advice on how to deal with him. I didn't exactly feel safe telling him, but weighing the options, I felt safer telling him in advance than I would have if he had been surprised/caught off guard.
He wasn't pleased when I told him, but he's been acting more reasonable since I told him than he has in a long, long time. I even ended up telling him that the visitation order was going to look like a decrease in the amount of time he spends with the children. This also made him angry, but I told him that "reasonable people can come to an agreement outside of that order." I told him that he hasn't been consistent and I felt that I needed to protect myself and the children from his inconsistency. I have no idea how that is going to work out.
I find it odd that after MONTHS AND MONTHS (maybe even a full year? But it's been like this off and on for several years) of not being able to say more than three words at a time to L without being silenced, I'm suddenly able to have conversations with him. Of course I recognize this as part of the cycle. It's familiar to me. But it doesn't feel completely safe. I know that at any minute (of his choosing) he will snap back and stop talking again. So I make reasonable requests while I can, and I raise issues while I can. And, while I do still care for him as a person...I am thankful that I will soon be severed from him legally, and not obligated to him in any way.
So, if all goes as planned, this coming weekend will be my first weekend in my house without the children present. I'm apprehensive, but sort of excited, too. I worry that Coley will have difficulty adjusting. I'm not as worried about Monk, but it's a transition for both of them, and perhaps I should worry MORE for Monk, since he doesn't really talk about how he feels about it. Coley's not afraid to talk about it. Coley's seeing monsters in the dark. He gets scared. I'm almost certain that at some point this weekend he will be returned to me. I've already told L that this is OK with me. I just hope I don't get a call in the midst of the Rasputina show.
Yesterday, I rearranged my kitchen. I'm not sure if I like it, but it's different, and sort of cool. I cleaned the counters and scrubbed the floor. I cleaned the toilet that was stinkiing up the entire house (the kids don't have very good aim). I imagine after next weekend, the house will be fucking spotless.
Or maybe I'll just read a good book. Several of them.
I will listen to music loud. Take a long bath. Walk around the house naked. Watch scary/sexy/funny movies. And miss my little guys madly.
Sigh.
white privilege and moving to canada
May 30, 2004
bigfatmama has some thoughts about moving to canada to escape our regime:
i hear someone write or say that if such and such does or does not happen they are moving to canada nearly everyday. i don't share the sentiment and as another person accused me, i am judgmental about it. i think it exhibits the same kind of imperialist mind that created this fucked up empire in the first place. so if you leave the US and move to canada you are no longer complicit in the photos, in the war, in the apartheid this country practices, you can just move to another mostly white, mostly english speaking country and leave it all behind.i do think that most of the people saying this are white. and that folks who have benefitted from this empire (white people) have an obligation, if they don't like it to fight to change it. the thing is, i think that what most people want is to alleviate their white american guilt and keep their privilege. move to canada!
Definitely a LOT to think about there. I am reluctant to move mostly because it just seems like it's a lot of work for what is probably very little difference. If the Bush Administration is really powerful enough to change elections, or if no one can stop this forward momentum, it doesn't seem like it would make much difference WHERE I lived. And I probably wouldn't want to live as close as Canada if I did happen to move.
Either way, I had never consciously considered the argument of privilege in this, and I'm thankful to Angela for pointing it out. It's very similar to the argument for keeping kids in school rather than homeschooling them, and we all know which way I lean on that one. But this, to me, is more compelling somehow.
Richard on National Healthcare...
May 30, 2004
...or the lack thereof.
I sometimes wonder why there isn't more public outrage over the lack of health coverage in this country. There is concern, but there is no collective outcry, and I don't see people taking to the streets. It could be because the majority still have some form of health coverage, even though it is gradually costing them more and more. It could be that too many people have been brainwashed into thinking that national, "single-payer" healthcare would simply cost too much money -- though more and more evidence comes out that the strategy of government working through HMOs costs even more (and let’s not get into the vast amounts wasted on other corporate welfare and global mass murder).The people of the United States have a remarkable ability to remain passive or apathetic about social problems that affect their own lives. You can get lots of people out into the streets to protest a foreign war or other overt forms of brutality that are perpetrated by the government, at least some of the time. And, that is great. But it's much harder to get that kind of collective reaction in response to subtler forms of brutality, especially here at home. And, make no mistake about it, when people get sick and even die because they can't afford adequate treatment in a supposedly affluent society, that is definitely a form of brutality.
The New Being
May 27, 2004
By Kenneth Patchen
They'd make you believe that your problem is one of sex,
That men and women have mysteriously become
Strange and fearful to one another - sick, diseased, cold -
And that is true. But no loss of a father-image or of
Any other image, did this. Why don't you face the truth for once?
You have accepted the whole filthy, murderous swindle without
A word of protest, hated whomever you were told to hate,
Slaughtered whomever you were told to slaughter; you've lied,
Cheated, made the earth stink with your very presence - Why
Shouldn't you despise and hate one another? Why shouldn't
Your flesh crawl everytime you touch one another?
Why should you expect to make 'love' in a bed fouled with corpses?
Oh, you poor, weak little frauds, sucking around
Frantically for something to ease your guilt -
Why don't you face it?
Your birthright, liferight,
Deathright, and now your
Sexright, you've lost. What
Did you expect? How
Else could it be? You've
Made property and money your only gods -
Well, this is their rule,
This is what you wanted.
And now they'll wipe you out.
Why don't you face it?
Stop sucking around.
Your pet witch-doctors can't help you,
They're all sick from the same thing.
Your pompous intellectuals can't help you,
They're all sick from the same thing.
Your sly, vicious statesmen can't help you,
They're all sick from the same thing,
Why don't you face it?
No, your problem is not one of sex -
Your problem is that you have betrayed your animal
Into hands as cruel and bloody as your own.
Man is dead.
I don't know what kind of thing you are.
Need more help for my blogging class!
May 27, 2004
I'm looking for links to blogs that are "well-crafted" - meaning they follow a focused theme, or they have an interesting presentation, or the posts are extremely well-written.
I could just post my entire blogroll, but I'm worried about presenting too much bias, so I want to hear from you. Please help me give my class a more balanced look at blogging.
I'm also looking for your favorite "prompt" sites. Memes, themes, prompts - lay them on me.
And while we're at it, lay some of your favorite blog tools on me.
Please. I'm begging you. The more comments and suggestions I can get, the better this class will be. And, besides, if I have to sit around all day tomorrow hunting for this stuff, I'll have to skip the protest, and I want to be out there to support the mamas.
Thank you so much!
Meet me at Waterloo Park to agitate for healthy babies
May 26, 2004
I can't find information to this ANYWHERE online, which peeves me immensely (where the fuck are all of the activist organizations on this issue?) but a bunch of people are going to be gathering at Waterloo park tomorrow (may 27th) from 11 AM - 2 PM to protest the decision by Brackenridge and Seton hospitals to lay off and cut back all or most of their lactation consultant staff.
This "budget cut" is absolute bullshit, but I suppose it's smart business. Not only are they reducing costs, but they're ensuring more profit as fewer breastfed babies will equate to more sick babies. Yay, capitalism!
'O My Darling Troubles Heaven with her Loveliness
May 26, 2004
By Kenneth Patchen
O my darling troubles heaven
With her loveliness
She is made of such cloth
That the angels cry to see her
Little gods dwell where she moves
And their hands open golden boxes
For me to lie in
She is built of lilies and candy doves
And the youngest star wakens in her hair
She calls me with the music of silver bells
And at night we step into other worlds
Like birds flying through the red and yellow air
Of childhood
O she touches me with the tips of wonder
And the angels cuddle like sleepy kittens
At our side
(best. love poem. ever.)
What is the Beautiful?
May 26, 2004
by Kenneth Patchen
The narrowing line,
Walking on the burning ground,
The ledges of stone.
Owlfish wading near the horizon.
Unrest in the outer districts.
Pause.
And begin again.
Needles through the eye.
Bodies cracked open like nuts.
Must have a place.
Dog has a place.
Pause.
And begin again.
Tents in the sultry weather.
Rifles hate holds.
Who is right?
Was Christ?
Is it wrong to love all men?
Pause.
And begin again.
Contagion of murder.
But the small whip hits back.
This is my life, Caeser.
I think it is good to live.
Pause.
And begin again.
Perhaps the shapes will open.
Will flying fly?
Will singing have a song?
Will the shapes of evil fall?
Will the lives of men grow clean?
Will the power be fore good?
Will the power of man find its sun?
Will the power of man flame as a sun?
Will the poer of man turn against death?
Who is right?
Is war?
Pause.
And begin again.
A narow line.
Walking on the beautiful ground.
A ledge of fire.
It would take little to be free.
That no man hate another man,
Because he is black;
Because he is yellow;
Because he is white;
Or because he is English;
Or German;
Or rich;
Or poor;
Because we are everyman.
Pause.
And begin again.
It would take little to be free
That no man live at the expense of another.
Because no man can own what belongs to all.
Because no man can kill what all must use.
Because no man can lie when all are betrayed.
Because no man can hate when all are hated.
And begin again.
I know that the shapes will open.
Flying will fly, and singing will sing.
Because the only power of man is in good.
And all evil shall fail.
Because evil does not work,
Because the white man and the black man,
The Englishman and the German,
Are not real things.
They are only pictures of things.
Their shapes, like the shapes of the tree
And the flower, have no lives in names or signs;
They are their lives, and the real is in them.
And what is real shall have life always.
Pause.
I believe in the truth.
I believe that every good thought I have,
All men shall have.
I believe that what is best in me,
Shall be found in every man.
I believe that only the beautiful
Shall survive on the earth.
I believe that the perfect shape of everything
Has been prepared;
And, that we do not fit our own
Is of little consequence.
Man beckons to man on this terrible road.
I believe that we are going into the darkness now;
Hundreds of years will pass before the light
Shines over the world of all men...
And I am blinded by its splendor.
Pause.
And begin again
Razing Abu Ghraib
May 26, 2004
"It's not the place that matters, but who occupies it"
Just...something to think about.
He's Dangerous.
May 26, 2004
You know that cat in Shrek 2? Puss in Boots?
You know how he makes his eyes all big and does the cute litle wayward kitty act?
Well, Monk has decided to adopt that technique for his own nefarious purposes. He stops what he's doing, looks at me, makes his eyes go all big...and I can't. say. no.
It was bad enough on its own, used sparingly. But yesterday he combined it with his "I'm looking at you like you are from another planet" look, and I nearly went over the edge from the parental mind control.
And today! Today he inadvertently did the "poor kitty" look...without even trying...and I realized that I am in deep, deep trouble.
I just hope he doesn't teach it to Coley.
spike goes to school.
May 25, 2004
Ah, today has been an exciting swirl of adventure...I don't want to go into the gory detail, but it involved a "quick" trip to the library which ended up taking longer than expected (and included a scene where a triumphant cole, after drinking at the drinking fountain for an hour and a half, declared "I'M PEEING ON THE LIBRARY FLOOR!") a thwarted attempt at getting a smoothy or at least a decent lemonade at Austin Java Company (I think they just put lemon juice in a cup and called it "fresh squeezed lemonade" - so I tried adding sugar, but it just wasn't going to make Cole happy no. matter. what. Monk liked it, though...so it wasn't a total loss, even though I realized too late - on the way home - that they double charged me for it) and ended with a merry chase through the playground for an escaped dog on an escapade. The various helpful children kept point us in a circle around the school until we ran across a group of sweet little boys who were on their way to returning Spike to my house. I felt bad, because I think they think that I thought they were trying to take him, but I was just so relieved to see the dog that I couldn't hold back the "That's my dog." and even though I didn't MEAN for it to sound like "That's MY dog." I'm sure it did. So I thanked the boys profusely and they told me that Spike had come into their classroom and they fed him a little and gave him some water and poor old spike was only too happy to be carried home, where he collapsed in a wheezy heap on the floor.
Whew.
So, I'm treating myself to a little air conditioned bliss while coley watches some sesame street and Monk reads one of his library books. I might have some coffee or a little snack, get some of the remaining bits of work done that I was hoping to get done this afternoon before I had a dog hunt on my hands, and then get ready for another blog class at work tonight.
Hope your adventures aren't quite so...hot and sticky and rife with stinky dog breath.
Hanging Laundry Again
May 25, 2004
I have developed a really good new rhythm for myself and the kiddos now that it's spring and the weather is changing, but hasn't quite become unbearably hot and muggy.
We wake up in the morning, usually around 8, sometimes as late as 9. This morning, I woke up at 8, and the kids slept in. Monk woke up around 8:30, Cole around 9. I do my writing/reading between 8 and 9:30 - making breakfast for everyone and myself while scanning blogs, reading news, and figuring out what to write about.
Then I have my coffee and eat my breakfast, and at around 9:30 or so I do the dishes and hang out a new load of laundry, taking in yesterday's load. The kids sometimes watch Between the Lions at this point, and then from 10-11 I have dedicated story/learning time - depending on what the kids want to do. Today, we read an excerpt from _The Wind in the Willows_, and some silly poems, and another exerpt from a book about Living with Owls, or something.
At this point, the boys have a choice between going outside for playtime, doing a chore so they can get some computer time, or just hanging out for freeplay. I knock around, read, write, clean up, and prepare lunch.
We all eat lunch together and have silly conversations about all sorts of things. The other day, Monk was telling me about how he was going to die "either of old age, or by freezing to death." Um, OK.
After lunch we either have more outdoor play time or we run errands or we do a project or experiment. Sometimes we do this right after lunch, sometimes I clean up a bit after lunch and they play by themselves for a bit. Either way, I try to set aside an hour of face time in the afternoon, either helping Monk with a workbook or helping cole with artwork or alternating between the two.
Then I go to work, and when I come home I generally have one-on-one time with Monk, which has always been a really important activity for us, but L has decided (on his own without consulting me...which, really, I need to talk to him about) to start putting Monk in bed by 10. This isn't a problem normally, because I try to get home by 9:30 or so, but lately I've had to stay out until 10 or 10:30 (due to car trouble and other obligations) and it saddens me when Monk is asleep when I get home.
At any rate, when Monk is allowed to stay up to his normal bedtime, we typically play a game or read or sometimes we watch the Simpsons or a movie together and eat popcorn. I think it's a good time for us to bond. Frequently during the day Coley is getting the bulk of attention, as we take frequent "cuddle breaks" at his behest. Monk likes to cuddle, too, but coley is extremely territorial about it, so it can be difficult for Monk to get access to me during the day without causing disturbance of one kind or another.
I've been trying to give myself breaks from housework - to allow the children's needs to trump the dishes, for instance. It's hard when things pile up and I don't have energy left over (or when we have lots of exciting out-of-house activities planned) on the weekend and the house starts to get kind of gritty...but I just have to constantly remind myself that the kids don't seem to care as much when the house is clean as they do when they have a happy mama to play with...and who is responsive to their immediate needs and desires.
I'm enjoying this rhythm. I'm sure it will change a bit over the summer, and again, pretty drastically, when the time changes in the fall. For now, though, it's working out great.
I've been thinking lately...
May 25, 2004
...about how difficult it is to be a parent. And I was going to write a bit about it, but thought I would maybe not, but then read this post by Dawn, and figured I might as well give it a shot.
I think the thing is that lately, I have not been parenting as effectively as I would like to. I think Dawn is so right that parents need to be mindful of how their histories are playing out in their relationships with their children...and when there are numerous distractions or stressors, it can be difficult to allow for that mindfulness to surface when things become tense with the children.
Lately, I feel as though I have been mean with the children. I have had to tell Monk "NO" more than usual, and I've felt frustrated and annoyed with Coley's high level of curiosity and activity. Neither of them are really doing anything unusually wrong, but both can be difficult to deal with, especially when they gang up on me.
The important thing that I need to remember is that we are ALL going through a stressful time. It's so difficult to balance forgiveness of myself on top of the anger I feel when they violate my space or my authority. I don't ACT as angry as I FEEL most of the time, but I add it into the equation and it's a formula for guilt.
Additionally, it's frequently true that their behavior IS inappropriate, and there are times when my anger is the natural consequence of their behavior. I have come to realize, after years of thinking otherwise, that anger DOES have a place in a parent-child relationship. The key is that the parent must learn how to express anger appropriately. How to focus the anger on the specific behavior that is causing the problem, and how to apologize and forgive. Anger is a HUGE emotion for me. If I were to continue to expect myself to not be angry. EVER. with my children, I would be even more frustrated and stressed out than I am right now. It's a genuine emotion that must be dealt with as genuinely as any of the other emotions we express with each other on a regular basis.* The key is to learn to express it productively or constructively, and apply it to lessons about learning to get along better.
And I frequently ask THEIR forgiveness. This is something that was never part of my relationship with my mother. An apology was never offered by an older person for a youth to accept or reject. It was just assumed that the elder was right and the youth was wrong, regardless of the reality of the situation. So EVERY time I offer an apology feels like excess to me, even if it only happens once or twice a week (although, I have to admit, I've had my days where I feel like I have been fucking up and asking for forgiveness several times an hour).
I always knew it was difficult to be a parent. It's not something that is innately programmed. In fact, for most of us, what IS innately programmed is directly in conflict with the skills that are needed to BE a good parent. There are times when I feel as though I am hacking through a jungle of overhanging crap to reach that postage stamp sized meadow where decent parenting exists.
But when I get there, we all sit and relax and enjoy. And I get there by being mindful. I get there by declaring upon waking "Today is going to be a good day for all of us." or "Today I'm going to really work on not losing my temper." or something equally cheesy. Some goal that it feels like it should be a no-brainer to achieve, but which I seem to struggle with a lot these days.
*It just occurred to me that anger is an element that is missing in the relationship children have with the "experts" we allow into their lives. Teachers, I'm assuming, are encouraged to not act angry with their students, even though the students are there a good portion of the day, and I imagine teachers get pretty freaking angry sometimes. I think there's a difference between controlled anger, and genuinely expressed, but directed (and not over-expressed) anger...if that makes sense. Or maybe I'm just finding another excuse to keep my kids out of school
Echoing Adam
May 25, 2004
Jeffrey Veen: Ringtones and Torture Pictures Want to be Free
In the face of the atrocities committed by US Soldiers guarding prisoners in Iraq, Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld has banned cameraphones. Banned cameraphones! This harkens directly to his testimony before Congress last week when he lamented the new digital world that allows anyone to effortlessly beam information from where ever they are. Restated: We're very truly sorry we got caught. We'll take steps to ensure we get away with this from now on.
[link via Randomwalks]
Another couple of Patchen Poems
May 25, 2004
Death Will Amuse Them
A little girl was given a new toy
That needed no winding and would never run down
As even the best of everything will
And all day she played with it
Following happily over the floor of heaven
Until finally it rolled under the feet of God Himself
Who said: 'You must give it back now.'
Then He pointed down at two soldiers who were staring up
Hopefully
'You see, it is a very popular toy.'
And He tossed it down to them
Whose eyes would stare up in earnest when they touched it.
-Kenneth Patchen
Have you Killed Your Man for Today?
In these hands, the cities; in my weather, the armies
Of better things than die
To the scaly music of war.
The different men, who are dead,
Had cunning; they sought green lives
In a world blacker than your world;
But you have nourished the taste of sickness
Until all other tastes are dull in your mouths;
It is only we who stand outside the steaming tents
Of hypocrisy and murder
Who are 'sick'-
This is the health you want.
Yours is the health of the pig which roots up
The vines that would give him food;
Ours is the sickness of the deer which is shot
Because it is the activity of hunters to shoot him.
In your hands, the cities; in my world, the marching
Of nobler feet than walk down a road
Deep with the corpses of every sane and beautiful thing.
-Kenneth Patchen
(one more)
Nice Day for a Lynching
The bloodhounds look like sad old judges
In a strange court. They point their noses
At the Negro jerking in the tight noose;
His feet spread crow-like above there
Honorable men who laugh as he chokes.
I don't know this black man.
I don't know these whit men.
But I know that one of my hands
Is black, and one white. I know that
One part of me is being strangled,
While another part horribly laughs.
Until it changes,
I shall be forever killing; and be killed.
-Kenneth Patchen
obscenity?
May 24, 2004
San Francisco Examiner: Patriotic or obscene?
"If you can see genitals in my painting and call that obscene, then I think you need to look at the actions taken by these people in the prisons in Iraq," he said. "That is where you will find the real obscenity."Colwell calls himself a patriot.
"I have worked for peace and justice most of my life. I think that is a very American thing to do," he said. "I am not anti-American, I'm anti-torture. I'm anti-cruelty. I'm anti-hypocrisy. I don't want to be lied to any more by our government, and I stand by my work."
+--+
May 24, 2004
-
+My sister offered to send me money so I can join them in Nevada for a camping trip
- We sit down to listen to Sara Hickman, and Monk boos the woman, and generally exhibits the attitude of an adolescent moodmeister, causing me to really not want to be there anyway.
- We head home to get drinks to avoid spending so much money at the event. At first, Coley doesn't want to go, so I play the "race you to the tree" game with him. Only he keeps running until he's nearly at the street, causing me to yell "Coley! You need to stop at the curb." And he stops, at the curb, and looks back at me, and then RUNS RIGHT INTO THE FUCKING STREET. I scream, run after him (I guess so whatever car is going to hit him also takes me out, as well) and of course he starts to cry because "mama, you YELLED at me." Gah. Well, ok, then. I'll work on that.
- After a long break from the festivities at home while I attempt to pull my shit together, we head back. Of course, both boys want to do totally different things, so I try to position myself between them. Monk is playing Risk with the comic book store guy, and Coley is playing on the playground, and I'm talking with my friend B when I realize it's been a whole minute since I last spied Coley's superman shirt and bright green pants. I'm trying not to panic, looking for him...but I can't freaking find him ANYWHERE (I had already warned him once to not leave the playground area) so I'm running around to the various little booths, thinking he might have seen something interesting, and I'm slowly getting more and more freaked out...and then I run back to the playground to tell Monk that I can't find Coley and up walks another friend of mine, carrying him. And this woman gives me fucking ATTITUDE when I reprimand coley and he starts to cry (all I really said was "Man, you can't DO that...I was really scared!" WHILE I WAS TOTALLY HUGGING AND COVERING HIM WITH KISSES.) and she's all "Well, he seemed to be doing OK about it, UNTIL NOW." Like I"m supposed to just scoop him in my arms and be instantly soothed by the fact that he's OK. WTF? That really fucking pissed me off, man. I didn't even raise my voice at him, it's not like I was being unreasonable...Damnit, you know?
- So, I calm Coley down, and we talk about how when you are on the playground, you need to talk about where you are going to go next if you want to leave. He was RIGHT in front of me prior to disappearing. I'm intentionally not a hovery parent, preferring to watch the activities from the perimeter of the playground and step in when needed. So, anyway, we go to the bouncey thing to make up for this whole hoo-ha, and Coley gets extra super long bouncey time, and then when time is up, he fucking RUNS to the back of the bouncey thing and clings to the netting so no one can retrieve him. I managed to convince him to get out after about a minute of him refusing. I think I said something like "I'm giving you five seconds to come out, and if you don't - we are going RIGHT home." (which actually makes no sense whatsoever, because...um...how are we going to go RIGHT home if he refuses to get out?) but it worked.
- While Coley was in the bouncey thing, there was this cute little baby in there with him who was poking her hands out and waving to me and flirting with me. Her jackass of a mother, who was in the bouncey thing with her, says to her husband "Do we know this person." Like...totally within earshot of me. Like, I was practically standing closer than her husband was. What the fuck is up with that? Is there a law against smiling at other peoples' children and calling them cutey pie or whatever? I wanted to say "No, you don't know me....but, um, HI...I can HEAR you." whathefuckEVER.
- OH, I forgot the part where Coley whipped it out and peed all over the playscape...I wasn't sure if I should pretend I didn't see or if I should step in to tell him that wasn't actually appropriate.
- So, anyway, Monk's still playing Risk, and we get some sno-cones and bring them to him, and the game is ALMOST over when Coley decides he has to go potty RIGHT THEN...so I leave Monk and run to the potty with Cole and when I get back, Monk is gone. Frick.
- Thankfully, Monk LISTENED to me and just went right to the playground, where I told him to go when he was done. So I give him two tickets to do the obstacle course, and he loses them on the way over there...and they were the last two tickets, so he starts to cry profusely.
- Monk manages to con the lady into letting him do the obstacle course for free, but when he's done, his glasses are gone...and I have a minor panic attack looking for them. We found them. Thankfully.
-I can't imagine having the energy to do a solo road trip in the near future
-My kids have fought over EVERYTHING today, most recently: Who Gets The Biggest Strawberry, and Who Gets To Sit In The Hammock First
+My boss just called and canceled our Monday meeting.
I DON'T WANT TO STARTLE YOU
May 24, 2004
I DON'T WANT TO STARTLE YOU but
they are going to kill most of us
I knew the General only by name of course.
I said Wartface what have you done with her?
I said You Dirtylouse tell me where she is now?
His duck-eyes shifted to the Gaurd. All right, Sam.
I saw a photograph of the old prick's wife on the desk;
Face smiling like a bag of money on a beggar's grave.
Who is that fat turd I said - he hit me with a jewelled fist.
While his man held me he put a lighted cigarette on my eyelid.
I smelt the burning flesh through his excellent perfume.
On the wall it said Democracy must be saved at all costs.
The floor was littered with letters of endorsement from liberals
And intellectuals: "your high ideals," "liberty," "juman justice."
Stalin's picture spotted between Hoover's and a group-shot of the DAR.
I brought my knee up suddenly and caught him in the nuts.
A little foam trickled from his flabby puss. All right, Sam.
They led me into a yard and through a city of iron cells.
I saw all the boys: Lenin, Trotsky, Nin, Pierce, Rosa Luxemburg...
Their eyes were confident, beautiful, unafraid...
We came finally to an immense hall protected by barbed wire
And machineguns: Hitler, Benny Mussolini, Roosevelt and all
The big and little wigs were at table, F.D.'s arm around Adolf,
Chiang-Kai-shek's around the Pope, all laughing fit to kill.
As soon as a treaty was signed, out the window it went;
But how they fumbled at each other under the table!
I snatched up a menu:
Grilled Japanese Soldier On Toast
Fried Revolutionaries a la Dirty Joe
Roast Worker Free Style
Hamstrung Colonial Stew, British Special
Gassed Child's Breast, International Favorite
Wine list - Blood 1914, '15, '17, '23, '34, '36, '40 etc.
So much fresh meat I thought! A butchers' holiday...
The General paused to enjoy the floorshow:
On a raised platform little groups of people stood.
Flags told their nationality; orators told them what to do.
As the bands blared they rushed at each other with bayonet.
The dead and dying were dragged off and others brought on.
Sweat streamed from the orators; the musicians wobbled crazily.
The Big Shots were mad with joy, juggling in their seats like monkeys.
And they never get wise the General said as we moved on
Out in the air again...
A line of petty officials and war-pims waited before the door.
As we approached they drew aside respectfully to let the General in.
I heard a woman moaning and I knew what they wanted there.
Now do you know what we've done with her the General said.
To go mad or to die...
They forced me to watch as the General went up to her and
Her eyes were looking at me.
***
The Origin of Baseball
Someone had been walking in and out
Of the world without coming
To much decision about anything.
The sun seemed too hot most of the time.
There weren't enough birds around
And the hills had a silly look
When he got on top of one.
The girls in heaven, however, thought
Nothing of asking to see his watch
Like you would want someone to tell
A joke - "Time,"they'd say, "what's
That mean - Time?", laughing with the edges
Of their white mouths, like a flutter of paper
In a madhouse. And he'd stumble over
General Sherman or Elizabeth B.
Browning, muttering, "Can't you keep
Your big wings out of the aisle?" But down
Again, there'd be millions of people without
Enough to eat and men with guns just
Standing there shooting each other.
So he wanted to throw something
And he picked up a baseball.
-Kenneth Patchen
********
The Fox
Because the snow is deep
Without spot that white falling through white air
Because she limps a little - bleeds
Where they shot her
Because hunters have guns
And dogs have hangmen's legs
Because I'd like to take her in my arms
And tend her wound
Because she can't afford to die
Killing the young in her belly
I don't know what to say of a soldier's dying
Because there are no proportions in death.
-Kenneth Patchen
I'm wondering that, too...
May 24, 2004
Except...maybe not in those precise words:
I mean, sure, good news for a change so people don't think the entire rest of the planet is a non-stop chamber of horrors, all well and good, but how many fucking frisbees does it take to equal someone getting a chem light shoved up their ass is what I'm wondering.
Patriotism.
May 24, 2004
I've been too busy and/or tired to post here these past few days, and I'm not really up for posting right now either, but I hate that the "Crises all Sizes" post is stuck at the top of the page...
And, by the way, what the fuck is going on with this country?
In March 2003, a teenage girl named Courtney presented one of her poems before an audience at Barnes & Noble bookstore in Albuquerque, then read the poem live on the school's closed-circuit television channel.A school military liaison and the high school principal accused the girl of being "un-American" because she criticized the war in Iraq and the Bush administration's failure to give substance to its "No child left behind" education policy.
The girl's mother, also a teacher, was ordered by the principal to destroy the child's poetry. The mother refused and may lose her job.
Bill Nevins was suspended for not censoring the poetry of his students. Remember, there is no obscenity to be found in any of the poetry. He was later fired by the principal.
After firing Nevins and terminating the teaching and reading of poetry in the school, the principal and the military liaison read a poem of their own as they raised the flag outside the school.
You can read this horribly unpatriotic poem here. You might want to use a public computer, though, so they can't trace you performing this act of sedition.
Crises, all sizes.
May 20, 2004
So, I've had a pretty crappy 24 or so hours. I guess it started when I dropped the kids off at my friend's house. The one who watches them for a few hours a week so I can get to work on time at least twice a week. She was having a birthday party - a HALF birthday party - for her son. I wasn't invited. I suppose she might have just figured that I was going to be dropping the kids off anyway, but there has been some passive aggressive bullshit between us for the past month or so that I just don't even think I can begin to muster to energy to put to rest. So, whatever. I felt like crap, but I had an appointment with my lawyer, so it's not like I could have stayed, anyway. I'm just tired of dealing with pettiness - that of mine or others.
So, I make the trek out the the lawyer's office, and everything looked good with my paperwork, and he gave me some good advice and step by step instructions for how to file. But he also gave me a new angle to think about, which was something I hadn't considered that I am now forced to consider. And that's about all that I can say of that here.
So I swung by k8's house, which was one of two high points of my day, and listened to her read stories to her kids, and we chatted a bit about divorce angst and made some plans.
And then I had a thoroughly unpleasant dinner with my co-worker and my boss. It would have been a lot more pleasant if I had not, yet again, had to listen to endless prosyletizing about a certain diet plan. I mean, Maude fucking damn - I talk about my KIDS less than this person talks about her diet. It's INSANE.
At any rate, I managed to survive dinner, and I went back to work to deliver a "thank you" dessert to my co-worker. I was there for all of 30 minutes or so, got back out to my van, and the key wouldn't turn in the ignition.
Fuck.
So, J came out and tried another key which also didn't work, and then drove me home (seeing J was the second high point of my day)...and today I called a locksmith to try to fix the problem, and they sent someone out there to fix it (after J, who is my favorite person of the week, dropped my key off over at their offices)...The service person just called to tell me that he fixed the key problem, but now the engine won't turn over.
Gack. I'm tired of all of this. In addition to this mess, I've suddenly decided that I need to change the entire curriculum of my blogging class so that we will spend all night tonight using Blogger and then both class periods next week using TypePad...which, I guess, won't be too difficult a switch, but it's still somewhat of a headache. And I still need to rewrite at least today's portion of the agenda and hunt down links, and there are these kids running around here and I have a meeting tomorrow that I don't have childcare for and I think my head is going to just completely explode...
...but I can't let that happen, because then I'd have to be the one to freaking mop it up, and there's no time for that now.
Hope yr having a good day.
Today.
May 19, 2004
Today...I see my lawyer. I'm pretty sure my paperwork is all in order. My stomach is turning at the thought of what comes next. I hate that it has to be all about lawyers and courts and orders and all the impersonality it entails. This unraveling. It feels like it should be personalized.
But, I find myself explaining my situation here, and I think that maybe some people might not believe me when I say L does not even speak to me anymore. He comes into MY house, or, I think in his mind, at LEAST the space I occupy the majority of the time, does not speak to me when I muster a sincere "Hello!" sits with the kids, and now he's putting the kids to bed before I get home and waiting at his car so he can leave without even seeing me.
This is not the optimal situation for co-parenting children. And it has been his choice all along. If I do try to speak with him, I am told I'm being mean or rude or inappropriate, and I am shut down.
Meanwhile, Monk called me last night to inform me that "Papa says _A Cartoon History of The United States_ is NOT educational, mom." Great. What the fuck is that about? Does L even realize these sorts of proclamations put me in the direct position of having to contradict him? Or that they directly contradict me? I respond "Well, I'm sorry he feels that way, Monk...but you can still read the book. I think you'll still learn something from it." Monk seems relieved, and I hang up, puzzled yet again by L's efforts to really just cause trouble.
Look, I'm not perfect. Sometimes I say things that aren't very nice. Sometimes I'm sure I undermine L's parenting. But things like this, and changing bedtimes for the kids to almost an entire HOUR earlier, so I no longer have alone time with Monk when I get home from work, are just ridiculous attempts at asserting some sort of power and/or control. And it's counterproductive. And, really, all it demonstrates is that co-parenting with L without the aid of some sort of (court-ordered?) counseling is potentially very damaging to the children. And I do not want my children to become damaged simply because their parents are.
So, today I see the lawyer, and I embark on a journey that I NEVER wanted to take, even after I realized that divorce was the only solution for us. I'm inviting the state into my life in a way I would have never wanted. And, in a way, this whole process directly contradicts my beliefs in autonomy and self-government...I'm still trying to figure out how to recover from that. How to wrap my brain around relationships and institutions and what they mean to each other. How much relationships are dependent upon the institutions within which they are created.
I have to tell you that it was very difficult to go to the marriage rights march and project strong feelings about the rights for everyone to marry. At this point, I feel the same way about the right for people of all orientations to marry as I've ever felt about the right for people of all orientations to join the military. But I was there, and I do feel strongly about it...because the society within which we live makes marriage an institution that bestows privilege and benefits upon its participants that others are not granted.
I'm sure that eventually I will get over my negative feelings about marriage. I already can see the appeal of the legal benefits and privileges living, as I am, without insurance for the kiddos and without a partner to rely on financially. And, in time, I will probably heal emotionally and remember what it was like to believe in eternal love long enough to actually marry someone. I have that privilege. I think it should be a right.
Blogging 101
May 19, 2004
My class got off to a so-so start last night. I'm a little disappointed in the number of people who showed up, but sort of looking forward to working with an intimate number of folks.
During the day preceding the class, I got the idea in my head that I would introduce them to blogger in addition to typepad. Perhaps it's the fact that I no longer consider myself a huge fan of movable type, or perhaps it's because I'd like to see if people would be more apt to blog on a regular basis if they had a choice of tools to use. At any rate, we got as far as signing up for blogger accounts last night, and posting to blogger blogs. I think I might actually have to change my entire agenda to allow for use of blogger on Thursday, as well, and perhaps start using Typepad on Tuesday. After next week, the clients can decide which tool they would like to use, and we can proceed with non-blog specific content.
I always feel like a big freak when I'm teaching a blog class...because I AM a big freak about blogs. I feel like blogs are the perfect communication device for breaking down physical barriers that separate us, and they are a logical continuation of the zine movement that began in the 80's and perhaps several other movements which might be considered part of the same movement. I think blogging is bigger than the sum of the individual blogs.
Perhaps that's why I feel so angry about the new pricing structure of Movable Type. I guess I always felt like the folks at 6 apart understood the importance of blogging as a social tool, and that's why they were offering their product on a pay-as-you-can basis. I always felt like the ability to spontaneously generate new blogs from the same application was a way to encourage more people to utilize the tool, and innovate. I was never discouraged from this act, in fact, I was told that one of the strengths of Movable Type was its ability to support an infinite number of blogs.
It's always disappointing when a tool or activity that I enjoy is no longer affordable to me. I suppose I've lived a pretty priviliged life in that I've always found ways to barter or otherwise contribute something intangible to the people whose tools and services I need in exchange for those tools and services. When I was a poor punk rock kid, I made flyers for the promoters of shows so I could get in free (I also won a lifetime free pass for throwing a tutu on my head and dressing up like a flower nee "bad acid trip" on Halloween one year). Those clubs closed down, and I've never really been involved in a music scene as heavily since then. When I started doing a zine, I got a job in a copy store to take advantage of discounts and freebies. My bosses usually knew what I was up to, and never seemed to care. I paid out the ass for postage, and eventually that became unaffordable, too. When I was publishing a zine regularly, I got comped a lot - CD's, other zines, admission to shows. I repaid my benefactors by reviewing their projects and communicating with them.
It's much the same with blogging. I am hosted by a couple of very generous people who offered me space that I am using. I hope I am contributing enough in one way or another to justify that decision on their parts...and I'm returning the favor to as many other bloggers as I can. I'm doing my best to show gratitude for the privileges that have been granted to me. I'm also at the lowest point, financially, that I have been in my entire life...so, really, paying for a service that was once relatively free is out of the question for me.
And there are people who have more modest means than me who I would like to bring to blogging. I'd like to see more voices out there. I would like for there to not be a dividing line. I would like for there to be room for people who want to talk about their experiences or submit their recipe for pie. I'd like for people to fucking acknowledge that when they say "10 dollars isn't a whole lot to ask" or "50 dollars isn't unreasonable" to consider what 10 dollars means to someone who can't afford freaking bus fare.
I'm not saying that 6A has the responsibility to "blog the world" but I am saying that discussions about what is "affordable" and what is not need to be qualified. Fifty dollars for a license is affordable to me. And I am saying that much of this sanctimoniousness about the unwashed blog masses who are getting "something for nothing" and having the nerve to complain when they are asked to pay is utterly classist. If you have just enough to get by, and someone offers you a tool to use for free, you use it FOR FREE. You might throw a couple of bux out there when you have extra, if you get extra, but you might never pay someone what they feel their product is worth.
Movable Type isn't the only tool out there, but I considered it to be one of the best. I actually think the whole concept of blogging is or can be pretty revolutionary. But I can't throw my energy behind something that prices out all of the people who I think should be using the tool, including myself, because they have a business model to follow. It's nothing personal. It's not even EMOTIONAL. It's simply a fact. Just as when I closed the zines down when postage became unaffordable and found another tool to use to get my words out in front of other people, I will find another tool here.
What I'm hearing from a lot of people is that I need to be appreciative of all that Ben and Mena have done for the world of web publishing, and I need to consider that when I fork over more money than I've paid for my kids' medical expenses in the past year. What I'm not hearing is any sincere appreciation from Ben and Mena about the community that has supported them and showered them with praise, in addition to testing and offering suggestions and generally using their product in every way possible over the years. I don't think Movable Type would be the product it is today without the many people who have used it. not to mention designed endless plug-ins for it. But I"m supposed to forget about all of those people now that there's a business to run and people to pay.
OK, I'm sure I'm not making any sense, and at this point, I'm trying desperately to get my kids to stop distracting me for FIVE MORE MINUTES so I can get to the point and it's just pissing me off. I"m just going to have to post this and clarify later.
I guess, in summary, where scripty goddess goes, I go. Nothing personal, Trotts. Just like you have a business to run, I have a household to support. And there's only a certain amount of money I can spare for my hobbies and art.
UPDATE: I'm reading more, and on that Scripty Goddess thread, Jay Allen talks about how unlimited licensing "cannibalizes" the user base. That's fucking ridiculous. The blogs I support on fullbleed are there because the people who post to them do not have the time or the know-how to install and maintain their own copy of Movable Type. They are people who have things to say that is important for others to hear, so I have set up blogs for them so they can yak away without worrying too much about the technicality of it all. That's the power of blogs. Damnit. Gah. If everyone who had a blog was a techie capable of managing a domain and an MT installation, the blog world would be even less diverse and inclusive than it already is. Unlimited license allows for this and, again, it's what I was always TOLD MT was designed for. So stop calling my subhostees freeloaders.
Stinky mama
May 18, 2004
Coley and I were snuggling and talking and reading and goofing around in the big bed earlier today, and I said to Coley "Mama's sort of stinky."
Coley sniffed me and said "I don't think you are stinky. I LIKE the way you smell. Don't EVER take a bath AGAIN."
Later, I'm in the shower, and coley walks in to use the potty. He pauses, then exclaims, "HEY! Wait a minute! You are destroying your stinkiness!"
How Do I Use Movable Type
May 18, 2004
Six Log: How are you using the tool?
Good question. I have a lot to say about the new version of movable type, with it's greatly increased price tag. I haven't had time to write down all of my thoughts on the subject, but this is a good place to start:
At Fullbleed.net I subhost 24 non-commercial blogs, 13 of which are personal blogs (of which, only about 4 or 5 update on a regular basis). I have 73 Users who post on those personal blogs, as well as on 6 group blogs (some of the authors have NEVER posted, but I have added them in hopes that they will post one day). I also have about 5 or 6 test blogs and blogs that COULD be included in my main, randomwalks blog as categories, but I wanted to make them separate for whatever reason.
I frequently meet people in my line of work who are curious about blogging, and I make a blog for them to play with. 3-4 of the blogs I've counted as personal blogs fall under this category. Of the 73 users, I'd say only about 10-15 post more than once a month. Some (like 5 or 6) of the 73 users are pseudonyms for other users. I should also add that many, MANY of the bloggers who are included in the group blogs are people who already have movable type blogs of their own, hosted on different servers.
The cost for this level of usage would prohibit my continuing to introduce people to blogging/movable type this way. Several people who were once hosted at fullbleed.net have since moved on to start blogs elsewhere, using movable type. I should add that I have never once asked for technical assistance for any of my blogs, and have only on occasion perused the help bulletin boards, and maybe posted requests once or twice. There was one issue that I had that I brought to the bulletin boards which was never resolved, and i just found a way around it.
What WOULD work for me is to ask my users to contribute 10-20 dollars to 6 apart once they decide that they would like to continue using the tool. I would not mind paying up to 50 dollars for the software itself, as a non-commercial host. Anything above that will force me to seek an alternative solution for my needs...
I have more to say on this subject, but I'll have to save it for later, as I don't have the time at this moment to articulate my thoughts adequately right now.
Blog Class...getting the links on
May 18, 2004
The blog class so far. If you have any suggestions, please please please let me know!
Thanks.
Good Day, Good Week
May 17, 2004
Dawn has declared this a Good Week(...or else?) And her post made me smile, thinking of coley's daily proclamation of "Ahhhh...what a beautiful day!" first thing upon waking.
I've mentioned this before, and I've been sort of wondering where he came to have such a positive attitude first thing in the morning, and it didn't hit me until I read that post by Dawn.
I've mentioned before that L "left me" when I was 7 months pregnant with cole (basically, he decided he was through with me, but refused to actually leave. Later, he would tell me that he planned to stick around until I started "acting right.")
The remainder of the pregnancy was hard for me. All of my illusions about marriage and family were totally shattered. All of my hopes and dreams that this life we had created would somehow magically get better needed to be dealt with. And I was 7 months pregnant, with all that entailed.
Every night, I would draw myself a lavender bath, put on a mellow CD, sit in the tub with a candle lit, and talk to Cole. I told him all of my dreams. I told him about all of my heartache. I cried. I laughed. I insisted again and again that he was loved and wanted.
After he was born, it got even harder. L was here, and he helped, but we didn't communicate. It was almost as if he was a part time nurse/cook. Most nights, I went to bed crying, and most mornings, I woke up crying.
Cole cried a lot, too. I didn't get much sleep at all in the months after Cole's birth. L was there, but rarely offered to help. Even when he was already awake, I had to BEG him to please hold the baby so I could get some sleep. And even then...even when I begged, crying from lack of sleep, he would refuse more often than not.
At some point, I decided that I needed to pull myself out of it. I don't even know when I started doing it. Was it in the 10 days or so after Cole was born and before I went to Chicago? Or was it after I returned from Chicago and set about trying to figure out how to live my life as a single parent? I don't remember. What I remember is that at some point, I realized that I just couldn't rely on L for anything, that I might as well face it, and that I might as well try to figure out how to make the most of things as a single mama - even though my co-parent was living in my house with me.
So I began to wake up in the morning, first thing, and carry coley outside in the sling, every morning, and declare "Oh, Look! another beautiful day!"
Sometimes I would say it through tears. Sometimes I would say it through clenched teeth and jaw. Sometimes I would laugh at the hilarity of it all - at the fact that that damn sun kept coming up every fucking morning, mocking my sorry ass.
And now, here's coley, three years later, tumbling out of bed every morning, rubbing his eyes, giggling, smiling in my face, "Wake up, mama...it's another beautiful day!"
Another beautiful day. Another beautiful day, indeed.
It's that time again...
May 17, 2004
I'm teaching my weblogs class again tomorrow, and would love to get some suggestions for blogs or recent posts that you think demonstrate something important (I'm leaving that very loosely defined...or completely undefined, actually) about blogging. Leave a comment if you have something for me. The more the merrier.
Thanks!
Fun with Google results
May 17, 2004
I just get a tremendous kick out of the fact that this blog is #5 on the google hit list for overthrowing+a+government and #6 for breastfeeding+photo.
Just further proof that mamas kick ass...
Or that this site comes up in a lot of searches by perverts and miscreants.
One or the other.
My Weekend.
May 17, 2004
I had a pretty good weekend to go along with the good week. On Friday, I parked my car somewhere down on the drag and dragged my happy ass over to Spider House for coffee and websurfing. Actually, before I did that, I treated myself to a yummy southern fried tofu sandwich at wheatsville, but I was plagued by a couple of persistant bees who probably were drawn to my lavender and lemon spritz perfume. So, that was somewhat annoying.
But Spider House was nice and mellow, in spite of the fact that I have a habit of planting myself by the restroom, and have to deal with a million people walking in and out.
When I finally pried myself away from the internet, I still had a bunch of time to kill, so I took a walk over to Oat Willies to see if I could find someone a birthday present. After that, I walked to Half-Priced Books to browse around. I found some books I've been looking for for the kids: _A Cartoon History of the United States_ by Larry Gonick, _Lies My Teacher Told me_ by...er...someone whose name escapes me, and _The Unschooled Mind_. It was a pretty good score for cheap...or so I justified.
I know I've said this before, but I'm anxiously awaiting the day when I can spend my "alone" time AT MY HOUSE. It's so hard to find things to do for 4-5 hours while L is in the house with the kids without spending any money. Even though I was enjoying myself, I kept feeling like I would have rather been at home reading or cleaning or doing SOMETHING other than spending money i don't have on books I've convinced myself I need. I guess coffee shops are OK, I can usually squeeze 2-3 hours out of one cup of coffee, but...you know? It's just hard to not spend money when I'm wandering around with nothing to do.
Anyway, I headed home, put the kids to bed, hung out by myself for awhile, playing sims.
L told me before he left Friday that Monk's baseball game was early the next morning and didn't specify WHEN, so I woke everyone up at around 7 and got them fed. Monk insisted that L had his uniform, so I couldn't get him dressed. And we waited. And Waited. Ane Waited. L showed up at 10, his usual time, and when I asked him when the ball game was, he answered "noon" in his nonchalant "oh, did I inconvenience you?" manner. I said "You know, I wish you would be specific about the times so I don't end up waking everyone up at 7 AM to get ready. It's not fair to the kids." I was, of course, ignored.
Later, I tried to talk to him about summer camp and homeschool curriculum that monk has requested. I was told that I was being "mean." I guess, in L's definition, it's mean of me to request that he contribute financially to the upbringing of his children. Of course, he also reminded me that he "will not pay for Oak Meadow Curriculum." To which I responded, "Well, can you tell me what you WILL pay for, because I'd love to get some help." I think he said something like "You are only nice to me when you want something." and I replied "You know, you haven't given me anything in THREE YEARS, and I've been pretty darn nice."
Back. off. fucker.
Anyway, yeah. It was a low-key disagreement, but it still kicked me into gear as far as re-writing my divorce papers goes. I've been lax in getting them done for some reason - probably because it's hard work and there's a lot of thinking involved and it's just in general not a very pleasant task. But I was determined to get them written by the end of the weekend.
So I sat at my desk after work, and contemplated doing them...but then I started feeling hungry, so I got a bite to eat. And while I was eating, I was scheming on doing them, but my mind started wandering to the dollar cinema. "I wonder what's playing?" I asked myself.
So I called k8. And I asked her to please allow me to come to her house, and please don't allow me to do anything else until my homework was done.
And she did. And I finished the paperwork. And I gotta tell you, it's very gratifying indeed to finish something like that. I think they will be ready for submission once my lawyer gets a look at them, and I think I did a damn good job.
So, then I got to hang with k8 for a little while before trouncing home, feeling victorious.
Sunday, we dawdled for awhile in the morning, and then we headed out for the marriage rights demonstration by bus. The kids had a great time at Republic Park playing in the fountain and rolling down a hill. Monk did the whole march all the way to the capital, and coley fell asleep on my shoulders on the way. Then we met up with k8 at the capital, and all of the kids had a blast rolling down the hill there, and playing and arguing and having fun. And then, later, k8 brought her kids to my place for a bit so she could have some yummy mama time.
The kids played with Monk's pitching machine for awhile, until it got too dark outside, and then they came in and watched "Angels in the Outfield." I think everyone had a pretty good time. I'm impressed - and I was impressed all day - with the amount of looking after one another that they do. Monk and A (one of k8's sons) were helping coley with his balloon earlier, and retrieving him for me when he wandered too far away. They're good kids by themselves, but together ... especially lately...the GROUP of them together is just such a joy. They comfort each other when someone falls down or gets hurt, and they share and take turns like pros. I'm just really impressed with all of them. It makes it a pleasure to host gatherings and playgroups. I feel like it's totally no extra work at all, and in fact is often easier than watching just my kids.
So anyway, that's about it. It was a pleasant weekend, and I'm hoping it's a pleasant week. Wish me luck on the lawyer tip! I need to call him and make an appointment. I'm hoping he approves my work and I can file by the end of the week.
Rally today. You still have time to make it.
May 16, 2004
AUSTIN, TX
Join hundreds of supporters on Sunday May 16
Save Our Constitution RALLIES & MARCH
2:00 Meet at Republic Park at 4th & Guadalupe for a pre- Pro-Marriage Rally sponsored by the Austin Coalition for Marriage Equality
3:00 Step off for MARCH from Republic Park to Capitol grounds
4:00 Save Our Constitution Rally at the Texas State Capitol sponsored by the Austin Coalition for Marriage Equality; Lesbian Gay Rights Lobby of Texas; Human Rights Campaign; Parents, Families and Friends of Lesbians and Gays; Family Pride Coalition and others!
For more information visit: www.lgrl.org or write to auscme@austinmarriageequality.org
It's been a great week.
May 14, 2004
I think I've made some real progress this week, with respect to coming to terms with myself and my situation and all that entails. I think at some point this week, I snapped to the fact that these children, in addition to being my joy and complete fucking privilege to be akin to, are also little people with whom I will have to share my home and life for the next however many years they choose to live with me.
What this means is that I have to learn to be myself around them. To, yes, adjust to their needs...but also to help them to adjust to my needs. I have to fully be myself with them. There's no sense pretending or faking. There's a certain degree of striving to be better, but I've no desire to live the rest of my life being completely selfless and catering to their every whim or desire.
So, the other day, when I told Monk to "get his ass in here and listen to what I"m about to read" because it was something I knew he would enjoy, and his refusal to participate was just stubborn rebellion with no point on his part...he laughed. He laughed because he knew that I knew he was playing a game with me. And I laughed back, because I was able to speak in terms that were comfortable to me without having to worry about shattering a fragile ego.
Because they are fragile...immensely so...but they share my acerbic attitude and wit. And they understand me. And if I command them to listen every once in awhile, it's not going to harm them. And if I show anger when their behavior or attitude sucks...they'll learn what makes me angry. And as long as I am constantly examining whether my anger is appropriate and appropriately expressed, and apologize for when it's not if I can't control it up front, I think we are all better off with the freedom to express ourselves. I realized how quickly I forgive THEM, and I think I understand now that I'm worthy of that same forgiveness. And what they can't communicate, understand or forgive now...I'll be there to take responsibility for and apologize when they bring it to me when they are older.
I love those little boogers. They are so much fun to have around. I find myself lately wanting to share them with everyone. I wish I could convey with my words what an absolute riot life is here with them - even when I'm frustrated to the point of insanity. It all opens me up to life so much. They do. They are little human beings with so much capacity for love and joy and resistance and beauty and light. They inspire me. They help me to truly believe that all people ARE inherently good. I know they are. I wish you could meet them.
More on Cole's Cuteness.
May 14, 2004
Coley woke up this morning, as he has every day this week, exclaiming "Ahhhh...it's a byoo-tee-ful day!"
Sort of makes it difficult to be all surly with that kind of cuteness greeting me first thing.
Yesterday on the way to the grocery store, the kids were examining flowers and bugs. Coley was smashing bugs, and Monk and I were protesting this behavior. Midway to the store, coley stooped to examine a roly poly who was curled up in a ball, no doubt trembling with fear, as coley's shoe had recently flattened a nearby relative (the other day, coley mushed a bug that Monk had brought into the house. I told coley that it wasn't a good idea to mush bugs, and Monk started to agree with me, but then he stooped down and said "Well, at least now I can examine the insides of the bug." Fucking crazy-ass kids!) So, anway, coley stoops down and picks up this curled up roly poly.
"I LOVE this roly poly," Coley declares. "She's my favorite."
"It's a girl roly poly?" I ask.
"yes," says Cole. "I SMUSHED her BROTHER."
hahahaha. Coley named the roly poly "curly" and held her tightly in his hand for the rest of our journey.
Unbelievable cuteness.
May 13, 2004
A couple of weeks ago, the boys and I were taking a walk through the neighborhood. We walked past my midwife's house, and I reminded Coley that Suzie was his midwife, and she was there on the day he was born. Coley seemed very excited by this, and spent a good deal of the day talking about Suzie, and how much he loves her.
That night, he woke up from a dream and rolled to the window and looked out. He saw our cat outside in the moonlight, and insisted that our cat was on his way to visit Suzie. To talk to her and tell her stories. He said some more cute things about Suzie that night, but since then seemed to have dropped the subject and hasn't mentioned her since.
Today, we were at the lunch table and Monk was teasing Coley about something. Coley said something like "Oh, yeah...well, I have a WIFE!"
Monk said "No you don't. You're too YOUNG to have a WIFE. You have to be OLDER...like TWENTY. You have to be TWENTY to have a WIFE!"
But Coley insisted "No! I have a wife...her name is..."
Monk interrupted "There is no way you can POSSIBLY have a wife, Coley. You are too young."
I said "Coley...what's your wife's name?"
Coley said "SUZIE! She's my WIFE! She helped me to be born!"
That kid is so freaking cute, it's sickening.
So, then he wants to call his wife on the phone, so I call her and get her voice mail and put it on speakerphone, and coley's talking and talking and then he turns to me and says "HEY! he's not SAYING anything!"
Later, I'll tell the story of Coley's pet roly poly.
Apocalypse Asparagus Pasta
May 13, 2004
This morning, Lisa inspired me. I've been putting off making a meal out of the bunch of asparagus I picked up last Sunday at the grocery store...worried that inspiration would not hit until the basil was long wilted and unusable. But then I read this post at Madame Insane, and I felt it was my obligation as a lover of all things food to make something incredibly tasty today.
This is what I came up with.
I never used to be able to cook without a cookbook. I have to credit L for helping me to learn how to put things together. For teaching me that confidence - even cockiness - is the main ingredient in any good recipe. You have to know in your heart that everyone who eats what you cook will faint with pleasure, and if they don't...they don't know what good food is. hahaha.
Unfortunately, like most things that were good about L, there was a significant drawback to his teachings on good cooking. Basically, after awhile, he stopped eating anything I would cook. I think it shattered my confidence, and caused me to fall back on old standbys rather than inventing new recipes.
Lately, I've been feeling the urge to try new things. I made butternut squash soup earlier this week. It was based on a recipe, but squash is something I normally steer clear of. I loved it. And the cool thing is that the mamas I hang out with, and J, seem to like what I cook, as well. There's really nothing more inspiring than having appreciative people to cook for. And as I was cooking this, I was thinking "I'm going to have to drop a bowlful of this by k8's on my way to work, because it's just too good to NOT share."
I discovered that coley LOVES asparagus. He also LOVES red peppers. I'm glad of this. I wonder if he LOVES brussels sprouts, too. It's weird, because just about everything Coley LOVES, Monk HATES...and vice versa. So I can never please both of them, but I got enormous kudos from the coley today, so I can't complain.
emergency cooking advice needed!
May 13, 2004
I'm about to make some yummy asparagus and red pepper sautee to dump over some pasta with pesto, and I'm feeling the urge to sautee the pesto with the asparagus and red pepper, but something is telling me this is a no-no. Can someone quickly IM me and confirm or deny my instincts? I'm lgbdozer on aim, or you can e-mail me at drublood at mindspring dot com.
Thanks! Soon, please! Thanks!
Never mind. Discovered the cook-a-licious Heather was online and she advised me to add it later. Still, I couldn't wait, so I added a dab to the stir-fry and will add more when I toss it in with the pasta.
This is going to be so tasty.
(the pesto is yummy yum! It's basil and olive oil and tons of garlic and salt and almonds. Yum! I'll post the recipe later, even though there are no measurements for anything.)
This looks so yummy...I need to save it for later
May 13, 2004
Link from Lisa...
May 13, 2004
Madame Insane just hipped me to Overcoming Consumerism Citizen-Activist's Anti-Consumerism site
eye of the beholder
May 13, 2004
What I do not want to see ever again
Planes crashing into towers
Towers crashing to the ground
Children whose limbs have been blown off by American bombs
The crushed body of a woman working for peace
The reassembled bodies of a tyrant's sons
Dead children
Men stripped naked and humiliated by "my" people [...read more]
New Mama Blog.
May 13, 2004
New blog, not new mama.
goddesses read novels at red lights
Go bring a cake!
I don't think he *quite* gets it...
May 13, 2004
I'm cooking up some fake sausage for breakfast, and Coley walks into the kitchen:
Cole: What are you making...mama?
Mama: Some fake meat.
Cole aghast: MEAT? But I thought we only ate vegetarians, mama!
Rainy Today...
May 13, 2004
And my laundry line is heavy with limp, wet clothes that have been out there for almost a week now, attempting to dry. But it's been so humid that they don't fully dry between bouts of rain, and I don't want to bring them in, soaking wet. So I'm hoping that it will magically stop raining, and the sun will come out, and it will soon be 75 degrees outside with no humidity.
HA. HA. FUCKING HA. HA.
It is so humid here lately that it's almost unbearable. I'm attempting to not use the central air in my house until the first day of summer, and that's been a struggle, I gotta tell you. I haven't yet broken out the box fans, but I spend most of the day sitting around in skimpy clothing, sweating. The weather did that thing where it just changed, overnight, from pleasant spring to "fuck I can't stand this why the fuck am I living in fucking texas. fuck." spring. But I'll survive. There's no air conditioning in my car, but I'll survive.
I have this list. A list of things I'm going to do/get when there's more money around here. It's not a written-down list...it's a list in my head. Number one on the list is, of course, a shiny new tattoo. The artichoke. I want to definitely get the artichoke tattoo. Number two is, Monk wants the Oak Meadow THIRD grade curriculum, because he thinks he's more advanced than second grade, and he has PROMISED that he'll do assigned work if I get it for him and he CLAIMS he's not fucking with me when he says that. Even the drawing. So, I'm hoping that he's not fucking with me, because I'm going to have to shell out like 300 some bucks to get it. But you know what number 3 is? Number 3 is a big-ass comfy couch that I can stretch out completely on. A couch that has a pattern that will hide the stains that the kids will no doubt attempt to cover it in. A couch with a hide-a-bed for when visitors come. A couch that is brand freaking new and NOT a handmedown like every single other piece of furniture I have EVER owned. A couch. That's what number three is. So, when there's a rainy day like today, I can spend it laying on said couch with a stack of books next to it for myself and the kiddos, and I won't even be tempted to stare gloomily out the window at the droopy clothesline, laden with rained-on clothes.
War is Absurd
May 13, 2004
I know this isn't even remotely an original thought, and it's not even the first time *I* have thought it, but I was watching The Two Towers with Monk tonight - the fight scene at the end - and I was just struck by the absolute absurdity of war. Of squaring off against someone who is supposed to be your enemy and fighting to the death. Certainly we, as a species, should have evolved past this point by now. Certainly there is some other way to resolve differences. Of course, I guess war isn't always about differences.
And I can't tell if I'm more evolved than people who don't think it's glaringly obvious that war is absurd, or if I'm just really fucking dumb. Maybe that's it. Maybe de-evolution is the key. Do fleas have wars? Do Amoebas? Protoplankton?
Maybe I should just go to sleep.
Torture as National Policy
May 12, 2004
Mark Engler: On the Necessity of Torture
Even in his Friday testimony Secretary Rumsfeld seemed to express frustration at operating "with peace time restraints, with legal requirements in a wartime situation." He bemoaned a situation in which "people are running around with digital cameras and taking these unbelievable photographs and then passing them off, against the law, to the media, to our surprise."We will not end abuses by handing out court martials and "moving on." At base, a foreign policy that necessitates torture exists because we refuse to conceive of a role for the United States in the world that is not based on indisputable military might, nor on using this power to pursue our country's economic interests. Change will come only by challenging the central assumptions behind this imperial conception of national purpose; it will happen only if we act in the knowledge that there is more torture to come.
Bush's record of Inmate Abuse
May 12, 2004
Janine has brought this up, as have a couple of other blogs I've been reading in the past week or so. This article provides resources and numbers:
Conditions inside Texan prisons during Bush's reign were so notorious that federal Judge William Wayne Justice wrote, "Many inmates credibly testified to the existence of violence, rape and extortion in the prison system and about their own suffering from such abysmal conditions."In September 1996, for example, a videotaped raid on inmates at a county jail in Texas showed guards using stun guns and an attack dog on prisoners, who were later dragged face-down back to their cells. Funding of mental health programs during Bush's reign was so poor that Texan prisons had a sizeable number of mentally-impaired inmates; defying international human rights standards, these inmates ended up on death row. A prisoner named Emile Duhamel, for example, with severe psychological disabilities and an IQ of 56, died in his Texan death-row jail cell in July 1998. Authorities blamed "natural causes" but a lack of air conditioning in cells that topped 100 degrees Fahrenheit in a summer heat wave may have killed Duhamel instead. How many other Texan prisoners died of such neglect during Bush's governorship is unclear.
Our Homeschooling week in review...
May 12, 2004
Thus far, it's been a pretty good week. Monday, mathday, Monk and I quizzed each other with BrainQuest Math, and he did some puzzles and mazes in his Puzzlemania books.
Tuesday, yesterday, Coley helped me make butternut squash soup. We read Pinocchio. It's supposed to be Language Arts day on Tuesday, but we went to playgroup at k8's and the kids had a blast playing with all of the other kids there. And they all played so well together. I had a nice conversation with Pansy and then with Jodi about mostly parenting things. We all get so tired, and it's nice to console each other. Nice to reassure each other that we're doing OK. And that reassurance was really backed up yesterday by the behavior of the children. They are really learning together, as a group, how to resolve their differences for themselves, and when to bring a parent into it. I'm learning, too...to pause before I leap to assist or work things out for them or force the issue. I'm learning to hang back a little bit and to recognize and differentiate cries of frustration from cries of pain, and to allow the older kids to help solve the problems with the younger kids. I'm learning to trust that they will come to me if they need to. As Pansy said, if they need me, they can come to me, and if they can't walk, they can send someone else." Which is a bit hyperbolic, but there's truth in it.
And Monk seems so proud of himself when he's able to work things out with a friend he's arguing with, without my interference or "help." So, I think playgroup with that same small group of kids every week is even more valuable than any sort of book learning we might engage in otherwise.
I talked a bit yesterday about "natural consequences" - and my revelation that, sometimes, a "natural consequence" is that mama's pissed of and maybe acts angry at your actions. I don't feel like I need to respond to every situation with total aplomb. I think sometimes it's important for me to allow myself to wig out about their behavior. Because, damnit, if you are going to throw an hour-long temper tantrum about spilled orange juice that you've been calmly asked to clean up, you can probably expect that the other members of the household who are having to deal with you are going to be pretty pissed off about it. I think I'm just learning that I have a stake in this household, as well, and I don't need to get down on myself for every little instance where I lose my shit with my kids, because, frankly, I have a right to lose my shit sometimes. And we're all going to be living together for the next 15 years or so, so we all need to learn to account for the preferences and emotions of each other. Damnit.
At any rate, that went well...the kids had fun and got muddy. I had fun and got some much-needed validation.
Today has been great, as well. We've all been sort of puttering around the house. I read from the Look Again volume of Childcraft and did some fingerpainting with Coley. Monk drew a puddle at my insistance (because sometimes I DO insist)...and he's been playing clue finders. Monk made his own lunch, and we decided that he was going to cook lunches for us on Sundays and start helping me with dinner. I'm showing him how to use the stove and teaching him to not be afraid of knives. He's such a naturally cautious child that I'm perfectly comfortable with whatever he wants to do in the kitchen, and I'm looking forward to having a helper there.
After lunch, Monk helped me make the beds and tidy up the bedroom. Then we all jumped on the bed for a bit and rolled around. This is something we did yesterday, as well, and I think the physical roughhousing really helps release something in my children - things are a lot less conflict-oriented around here when we playfight on a regular basis. I HATE doing it, but it almost seems like it's necessary to their well-being.
Monk's playing Clue Finders again right now, and I'm about ready to take a shower. I still have a lot of time before I have to be at work, so I feel pretty relaxed. The kids are occupied...everyone seems happy.
It's been a good week.
P.S. Am I the only one who thinks it's unbearably cute that Monk just finished playing his computer game and offered to read to Coley. I just love it that he likes reading to his little bro, and his little bro likes for Monk to read to him.
No Heroes, no leaders.
May 12, 2004
Richard talks about his impressions of the upcoming RNC protests:
Recently, I got myself into a conversation in which somebody acted surprised by something I said that seemed to me like a perfectly natural conclusion: If we’re working toward a truly egalitarian society, i.e., one without hierarchies, we should have absolutely no heroes. Certainly, we should appreciate the contributions that people make and acknowledge when particular contributions seem exceptional, but we should never make the mistake of idolizing anyone. And we should not have leaders unless, to paraphrase the IWW’s Big Bill Haywood (if I recall correctly), all of us are the leaders. (Although he became enough of a hero and leader himself with an appropriately huge ego...)
Words of Encouragement and Wisdom
May 12, 2004
You can see the rest of this excerpt fro Starhawk, and a lovely picture here:
When we plant, when we weave, when we write, when we give birth, when we organize, when we heal, when we run through the park while the redwoods sweat mist, when we do what we're afraid to do, we are not separate. We are of the world and of each other, and the power within us is great, if not an invincible power. Though we can be hurt, we can heal; though each one of us can be destroyed, within us is the power of renewal.
Thanks, Lisa...for the reminder.
"us" vs. "them"
May 11, 2004
I don't even know where to begin to describe my feelings about the ruthless beheading of a seemingly innocent person in Iraq. It just seems like more and more people are caught in the crossfire of the so-called war on terror. I feel terrorized from all sides. Saddened. Deeply, deeply grieving the death of not only the physical body but the spirit of common goodness. Grieving for the tortured victims and their horribly misguided torturers on both sides. Because what sort of evil presence in a life would convince someone to partake in any of this, really?
And so many people want to blame the "other side" - whichever side conveniently falls to other. "They" are animals. "They" are liars. "They" are criminals. "They" are terrorists. If "they" hadn't sent/given reason for "us" to be there, "they"/"we" wouldn't be in this position.
And while all of this blame and rhetoric is being passed around people are being tortured, people are dying, people are living in fear and abject poverty, people are being murdered.
I was reading a small victory yesterday, even though I promised myself I wouldn't do that anymore. And I ran across a comment from the lone leftie who still tries to post there. He said something that I've been thinking and I've tried to articulate, but I've never done a very good job. He said:
What I implied— and I stand by this —is that rage and sadness are no excuse for imprecision, especially on a subject as important as this is. Because, I'm fairly certain, you're wrong about all terrorists, even terrorists in Iraq, being "the worst kind of human being from top to bottom." Some of these people, like you, are reacting to rage and sadness. And not the rage and sadness of seeing someone they don't know murdered over a grainy internet feed; the rage and sadness of seeing their entire family killed by a bomb that dropped out of a U.S. airplane.
I don't think that excuses terrorism. I don't think that fact allows for beheadings or torture or murder on either side. I do think it's something we must think about and figure out how to incorporate into our policies and strategies for diplomacy and communication.
For me, the question is what causes the rage and sadness? What causes people to feel so much rage and so much sadness that they would do unspeakable acts because of it?
Is it George Bush? Nah. He's pretty horrifyingly anger-inducing, but he's not responsible. Last night, I was listening to a radio show in which the DJ was talking about the possibility that "the terrorists" might attempt to "influence our election the way they did in Spain." And I thought about that. I thought - which candidates would the terrorists want me to vote for? Do you think the terrorists would hate Kerry LESS than Bush? Seriously? Do you think Kerry is going to end the war on terror? And, if he does, do you think he's going to do it quietly and without actions that might precipitate more rage and sadness?
The thing is that we can't demonize the enemy. We can't make them out to be less then human, because you can't solve a human problem by excluding humanity from the equation. Because the war on terror is not a mythical battle of good and evil. Because, I'm sorry, but "good" and "evil" don't really exist exclusively within any single individual or any group of people...and arguing who is "right" and who is "wrong" hasn't gotten us anywhere.
My mind races and buzzes. I don't have a solution. I'm so fucking mad because I don't know the answers. I just know that it's not helping anyone to divide the world into "us" vs. "them" and set about to eliminate "them." Because some of "us" ARE "them."
Agh...I don't even know if I'm expressing this clearly. My feelings are all jumbled up. I just had a very visceral reaction to the audio description of the beheading of Nick Berg. I grieve for his family - his mother, who heard the news so close to mother's day. I, too, feel despair. Despair. And it saddens me deeply to read of how this has fueled even more hatred, and even more calls for retaliation. Because it does go on and on, doesn't it? And, as long as we keep throwing up barriers between "us" and "them," I can't imagine that it's ever EVER going to stop.
P.S. I realize this post is a direct contradiction of the one immediately preceding it, but as Maude said "Consistency is not a human trait."
Conservative v. Liberal
May 11, 2004
the american street: Conservative vs Liberal Philosophy
Being conservative means never worrying about the individuals that are punished when you are righteously angry. It also means that those people that were being tortured (by the few bad actors) probably wouldn't have been in that situation if they hadn't done something bad. Unfortunately for many of them (the Iraqis locked up in Abu Ghraib), their mistake was simply being born Iraqi.
[link via shameless agitator]
Health Insurance
May 11, 2004
I'm suddenly finding myself extremely worried about the fact that the children do not have health insurance, and I'm not sure what to do with this worry. I can insure them through my work, but it would cost me about 400 dollars a month to do so, and I just don't have 400 dollars a month. There's no corner that I can cut that would give me 400 extra dollars a month. I mean, I suppose I could get another job in order to afford health insurance, but that seems counter-productive.
I need to look into medicaid for them, but I'm fairly certain I earn too much to qualify for any assistance. I was kicked off chip when they changed their qualifying income level.
I'm mostly worried about Monk's vision. I am not sure when his next eye appointment is supposed to be (I feel like it's overdue) and his lazy eye doesn't seem to be getting any better. It freaks me out. He sees fine with his glasses, and doesn't have any wandering at all, but once he removes his glasses it's apparent there's a problem. The doctor said there's a time frame in which this can be fixed without surgery, but I'm almost certain that time frame has passed. I've been patching his good eye for an hour a day, and it doesn't seem to be helping.
Anyway, I'm sure this freakout is not helping my children's health, but it just angers me that my children don't have access to affordable health care. I was just lying in bed with Coley, and all of the possible illnesses and diseases he might acquire went racing through my head. And that can't help my already heightened stress level.
I think about all of this, and I wonder if L even considers it. I mean, when CHIP ran out, I asked him if he could please find another healthcare solution for them. I haven't heard from him about it since. I don't know if his current job offers dependent health care or not, and I'm certainly not getting any help from him to afford the cost of my employers' health care plan.
Agh. Anyway, I think I'm going to go lay back down with Cole and try to conjure some happy, non-healthcare related thoughts...
Going Vegan
May 11, 2004
I made a deal with myself when I was pregnant with cole and started eating dairy again that I would stop once the baby was born. Then I extended that to when the baby stopped nursing regularly. Then when the baby stopped nursing completely.
Well, it's about that time. Coley took one long look at "other side boobie" today, kissed them, and pretty much said goodbye. And I think it's time for me to end my extended stint as a dairy-eater.
Veganism has always been difficult for me to sustain. I'm from the midwest, PIZZA COUNTRY, and I was raised on a block of cheddar cheese and bratwurst. I was able to give up meat fairly easily when I turned 16 and read one too many PETA pamphlets about the horrors of factory farming. I've gone vegan time and again in the 18 years since that point, and I have no confidence that I'll be able to give up dairy for good and for all at this point in my life, either.
However, I have horribly neglected my health...or I should say I have been horribly rude to my body...over the past year or so. I haven't been getting enough exercise, and I eat whatever is convenient rather than whatever is good for me. I have not been eating nearly as much in the way of yummy green veggies as I should, and this isn't a good thing.
And it's not strictly a physical health thing, either. I've been bad about listening to what my body is telling me about the foods I eat. I do have serious ethical issues with dairy farming, and it's ridiculous for me to continue to ignore that. When I started eating dairy again during my pregnancy, it was because I was unable to feel "full" on a plant-based diet, and for some reason feeling "full" was important to me. But lately I've gotten incredible satisfaction from simple, light meals that I just don't get from heavy cheesy ones.
I can't ignore my conscience, and I can't ignore the way the food makes me feel. Now seems to be a good time for me to make changes in my life - rearrange things that need rearranging. Start fresh.
So, celebrate veganism with me by leaving a comment with your favorite dairy-free recipe. Something simple. Something light. Something I can sink my teeth into. Something with which I can nourish myself and prepare to celebrate all of the positive changes I will experience in the coming year.
Give me a fucking break...
May 10, 2004
Another shining example of a group of people who think that Kerry is somehow entitled to my vote just because Bush is an imperialistic idiot. Sorry. No. I'll say it again and again, and I'm only convincing myself more every time I read another article trying to bully me into voter submission.
Someone in that thread was equating the insistence of certain individuals that Kerry adopt some of Nader's platforms with "throwing a temper tantrum."
Um, no...that's not how it works. See, the thing is that if a candidate wants my vote, he/she needs to appeal to me. For some people, the appeal of voting for anybody but bush might be sufficient. I demand more. It's as simple as that. I demand more than "I'm not him."
Kerry has not proven to be anyone that I would even remotely consider voting for. There was a point made on that thread that a vote for Nader is a vote against Kerry and for Bush, and someone responded with something along the lines of "no. A vote for Nader is a vote against Kerry AND AGAINST Bush. A vote for Nader is a vote FOR NADER."
My vote is my personal sovereignty. If the Kerry left would pause for FIVE FUCKING SECONDS and consider why they are not going to get my vote, they would realize how absolutely counter-productive it is to further alienate those of us who are already pretty much completely off the scale alienated. And no amount of telling me how fucked up and evil I am for daring to vote for the candidate of my choosing is going to draw me in to the fold.
Ugh.
May 10, 2004
I can honestly say that Joe Taylor is the reason I'm not really active at OS Politics. After the homeschooling discussion we had in which parents were characterized as "amatuers" and teachers "professionals" - and much, much more that I've managed to successfully put out of my mind, I just didn't feel that OS Politics was a place where I could really assert myself. The guy is all over the place there, and we're sure to hear his (in my opinion) whacked-out perspective on whatever issue he deems himself an authority. Now he's taking on race. Or attempting to do so, anyway. I don't have time to adequately respond to (or even fully read) this thread at the moment, but I'm so enraged by his assertions that I can't just let it slip past. I will get back to it later, although it seems that there are others who are appropriately dealing with the situation.
Gah.
Global Referendum
May 10, 2004
Rather than a vote for one person or party, then, the Spanish election marked the start of a global referendum concerning the geopolitical role of nation-states—particularly the United States—in Bush’s “war on terror.”There is an ambiguity to this election-turned-referendum, however, initiated as it was by al Qaeda (or some like-minded group). Madrid is a tragic example of what can potentially happen when the ethical concerns of the majority carry no sway. Aznar, like Bush and Blair, had turned a deaf ear to the massive antiwar protests a year earlier—a tension between “leaders” and “people” that was in hindsight ripe for deadly exploitation. The timing of the explosions seemed geared to fix the Spanish election; one can only hope this perverted strategy isn’t repeated elsewhere. But the questions of veracity and policy are no less significant simply because they were raised in a terribly wrong manner. A nagging thought remains: How can people both do the right thing and avoid validating tactics intended to induce fear?
Of course, fear is by no means the exclusive tool of terrorists. The Bush administration has put anxiety to good use for all sorts of unscrupulous moves, from shepshepherding the Patriot Act to establishing Guatanamo Bay to preemptively striking Iraq, and it will continue to employ this method throughout the electoral campaign. For instance, one of the first Bush ads featured a glimpse of an “Arab male” at an airport. Fear, xenophobic or otherwise, does not need to be manufactured these days. The mentality behind the all-too-real global warfare being waged by powerful forces like Bush (or John Kerry, if elected) and Bin Laden (or his brethren) has guaranteed that. This is why the question of how social movements should act in the face of such insecurity is so crucial to one’s humanity.
Mother, Part 2.
May 10, 2004
So, I ended my mellow mother's day with a call to my mother. Which, in hindsight, was probably a mistake. Which is to say, I probably should have called her sooner, for any number of reasons.
I understand that it's totally cliche to say my mother doesn't get me. And I long to, like Lorraine, come to grips with the fact that my mother deserves my appreciation and forgiveness - or not even forgiveness so much as understanding...but I always return to this longing to be understood by my source. Appreciated for who I am by the people who held such influence over me in my earliest years.
And it's not that my mom is cruel, she's just clueless. And she's not clueless in general. No woman who can raise 7 children on her own could ever be clueless in the general sense. But she really is without clue about who I am and what motivates me. All of my family members are, really. Which is probably why, at this point in my life - which is without doubt the most difficult - none of them have bothered to reach out to me.
Oh, this wasn't intended to be a pity party, though. What I wanted to write about was something that was illustrative of my difficulties with my mother, and the feeling of being an outsider. We were talking about family, which is something we have been doing, tentatively, these days. And I was telling her that I was beginning to wonder if maybe not knowing L's family was a good thing. That the thought of inviting 20 or more unchosen people into my life, frankly, scares the shit out of me...and perhaps, for this reason, it's best for me to just not get seriously involved in any relationships.
Of course, I was exaggerrating a bit - but it's the flip side of what I was talking about the other day, about not feeling worthy of family, and about feeling envious of people who have family that they see often and can rely on as a support system. The fact is that, although I do envy this, I also see the burdensome responsibility of it, and I sometimes feel that the burden isn't worth the benefit. I've always been a proponent of DIY - even/especially when it meant constructing family relationships with people who do not share my DNA. Choosing family.
My mom heard this and boiled it all down to one salty grain. "Well, perhaps if you were more open-minded..." she began. I fumed, but remained calm. I attempted to explain to her that it wasn't a case of being open-minded, that I could have a conversation with just about anyone...but judgment had already been served, and her majesty was tired and needed to go to bed, so I was interrupted, good-nights were said, and I was passed on to my brother.
Talking to my brother was not much better. He seemed pissy because I hadn't responded to his e-mails - all of which, these days, have been forwarded chain letters and the like. I know I have responded to any personal e-mails he's sent, but, no, I don't reply to that other crap. Likewise Monk, who receives e-mail from him, as well. And it's not that I want my family to pity me or even to attempt to relate to me...but it's, um, that I want them to not totally fucking abandon me when I have a problem. I want to know that they are there, even if there's nothing they can do about it.
I remember when I took that road trip to Portland. My brother J made a huge deal about how his house was my house, and I believed him. Of course, he was talking about this conditionally. Ever since I had the nerve to question the health of the family, we have been incommunicado.
Is it really any wonder why I don't want to make an investment in family? Why I never have? Because I watched my mom withdraw from 3 of my brothers and sisters in their formative years...because I watched my brothers and sisters withdraw from each other. I watched all of this, the baby in the family, and felt certain that no matter what I invested I would end up being alienated. So I didn't bother to invest. I built that other family, not of blood, but of kinship. But I don't think I invested in that family as much as I should have, either. I don't think I had enough faith even in chosen family members.
And every year, I make the same vow to myself. I'm going to remember all of the birthdays. I'm going to really work at reaching out to everyone. I'm going to increase my circle of family. And every year, there's always an excuse for not doing that. And I feel guilty about that, but I am not altogether sure it's solely my fault.
I wonder what my mom feels about all of this. Does she realize that the family is coming unglued? Does she feel a pang of regret over all of that instability all those years. Did she think that I could witness the ex-communication of three family members and all the nastiness that entails and not have a cynical view of family?
It seems her only method of solving the problem is to encourage me to "make amends" with my sister. My sister who "has changed." My sister who has been through so much of what I'm going through. My sister with whom I have attempted to make amends on several occasions, even though it's not my place to make the amends. And I wonder who will ever fucking make amends with me. Who will apologize for the bullshit. Who will ever say "Look, we know we put you in the exact middle of a self-inflicted family fued when you were far too young to play middle-person, and we're sorry. You shouldn't have had to choose between people in your family when you were 10 years old. And you shouldn't have had to hear one side demonize the other everytime the other was out of earshot."
That's what I would like to hear. Instead...I think I'll just once again step away from the family for a bit. It's getting a little hot in here, and I have other things to concentrate my energies on.
Privilege of College
May 10, 2004
Some con artists resort to very small-time tricks, like trying to confuse a store clerk into giving them back the wrong change, but high-stakes confidence games, the ones that yield the biggest returns, are ones in which the swindler is able to convince the victim that they have her best interests at heart, and that, while their help may be expensive, it's well worth it in the long run because it will be life-changing.
This post reminds me of something an ex-intern of mine related to me about one of her first experiences in college. She was attending a poli-sci class...I can't remember the name of the class...and the instructor was exploring concepts of wealth. This intern of mine is someone who grew up modestly. I have no idea what income level her family is at, but I'm fairly certain they were struggling to make ends meet due to low income status.
At any rate, the professor was asking the students what they considered to be wealth and/or poverty and the students were to stand up to indicate their opinions. He asked the question "Who among you considers a family earning 100k a year to be wealthy." My intern was the only student, in a class of about 100 or so, who stood up. She said she couldn't believe it. I couldn't either.
Ralph Nader on Texas Monthly Talks
May 10, 2004
I caught an interview of Ralph Nader on Texas Monthly talks today...and I have to say that I'm even more impressed with Nader and his ideals and his reasons for running than I have ever been before. I pretty much have heard all of the arguments for and against his run for office, but having never actually seen him speak about it himself, I could not adequately judge his sincerity.
I gotta say, after watching this interview, I have to question the sincerity of people who so adamently oppose his bid for the presidency (or, rather, his desire to remind the candidates of the voices of the silenced majority, be they left-wing or right.) I just can't see how someone can watch this man speak, and hear him voice his concerns, and react so strongly against his decision to run. To me, it implies a great deal of cynicism, and this cynicism is what makes me fear for this country regardless of the outcome of the November election.
I'm still undecided about how I'm going to vote. I don't know who to give my vote to. But I do agree with Nader when he says we all must vote our conscience. If your conscience drives you to vote for whichever democratic candidate will, in you mind, be more apt to beat Bush, I can't really argue with that. But don't attempt to silence or intimidate me out of voting for my ideal candidate...or not voting at all.
Mother.
May 9, 2004
L and I never really celebrated Mother's Day, so the only celebratory memory I have of this day in recent history was last year. I woke up to the sound of the lawn mower, and walked outside to find L bathed in sweat, fighting a mortal battle with the backyard lawn. It seemed like it took him hours to finish, and then he ceremoniously unplugged the mower, turned to me, and said (with what I can only imagine was a sneer, but perhaps that's because that's the only expression I can imagine ever having seen on his face) "Happy Mother's Day."
So, it's funny that I chose this day to fight that same battle with the backyard lawn. It had become pretty overgrown back there, and I guess I was waiting for someone to mow it for me. Ha ha. Today was perfect, though. I had videos for the kids, and a fridge full of food after going to the grocery store this morning. I felt energized and alive, and the weather was perfect.
The thing is, it feels good to be back there. It feels good to accomplish something that makes a physical difference on the landscape. It feels good to use my body, to feel its strength and endurance. Lately, I feel so tired. Lately, I feel like there's not enough motion in my life - or the same motion over and over. I long to move in ways that I don't normally move. I long to make physical changes.
So, I mowed the lawn. Nothing monumental by anyone's standards, and I didn't really even do that great of a job, aesthetically speaking, but I got it done. I mowed around the giant wild sunflowers that have sprouted up from bird droppings, and I mowed around the huge rosemary bush and the sage and oregano that's comingling in a feral tangle. I mowed under the laundry line, with clothes flapping in the wind, and I mowed over piles of dog poop - which I can now see to discard. I don't even know how long I was out there, self conscious that my neighbor would tell me that I was doing it all wrong because I was doing it all wrong. I wasn't following any of the standard conventions of mowing. I'm sure I was going against the grain, and I'm pretty certain I wasn't even operating the mower in a safe way.
But the yard is usable now, and Coley and I even tested it out by playing a bit of soccer. Coley had one shoe off and one shoe on, and we were kicking the ball and laughing while Monk dueled Yu-Gi-Oh cards with himself.
For the kids, the day consisted of endless videos and pizza. For me, it consisted of Getting Stuff Done - the lawn, and the unrewarding task of rooting out all of the dog pee in the playroom and attempting to scrub it out. And vacuuming. It was more difficult than it sounds, and maddening. And, like I said, fairly unrewarding, as no matter how much I scrub, it's just going to smell like piss back there until I pull up the carpet and replace it. But, still, I felt a sense of accomplishment, which I guess is its own reward. And NOT Getting Stuff Done, as I played with my Sims and read my book and daydreamed a bit...
I had thought about getting myself flowers, but when I got groceries, I was worried about the amount I was spending on food, so I chose to not spend an extra 10 bux to brighten the kitchen with buds that would only die in a few days anyway. Besides, lately I feel like I have been treated frequently to gifts and nice outings. I feel full...or will if I let myself.
And that, too, was a feeling that comforted me today. There were not hand-scrawled cards from the kids. No lopsided statues made of clay. No one prompted them to make me breakfast in bed. But the children, too, are a reward in and of themselves. And although my single-minded aim to straighten things up a bit around here caused me to be snitty and snappy with them on occasion, we did laugh. We did play. And I did voice my appreciation for motherhood.
So, I guess this is my first Mother's Day Alone. Whatever that means. I've spent so many of them alone, only without the sense of accomplishment...the sense that the aloneness has a purpose...and an end. Before, it was a seemingly endless alone. Today, I can appreciate the love I share with my children, and feel comforted by the fact that I'm alone with them and I am complete with them. And I'm not so sure I would be any happier any other way. I'm cutting a wide swath through my life, and it feels good to be able to see the soil from where I'm standing.
Rumsfeld Footnotes
May 7, 2004
Viewing Guide to Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld's Testimony - Center for American Progress
[link courtesy of Talk Left]
More on Tortured POWs
May 7, 2004
It seems Frederick has a low humanity quotient. But then again, are Iraqis humans? After all, weren't they the animals that brought down the Twin Towers? Er...no, although listening to a lot of early interviews with U.S. soldiers who invaded Iraq last year, one would have been excused for believing them when they "confirmed" that they were "going to kick raghead ass" for the September 11th tragedies.Okay, pause. Let us take the pictures that CBS aired and exchange the hooded men, the men with their penises shown in full frontal, for white men. White men with blue or green eyes and a nice bushel of yellow hair. Do you think that the abuse of Iraqi prisoners would have been repeated with an American? A Swede? Or even U.S. public enemy number one, a Frenchie?
No. And if, by some cosmic ripple of reality and truisms, such acts occurred with Europeans or North Americans, then you could have bet your bottom petro-dollar that there would have been candlelight vigils and demonstrations; Johnnie Cochran would have been shocked into whiteness; Rush Limbaugh would have gone soprano; Ann Coulter would have shaved her head -- you get the picture.
Also ripped from Atrios.
May 7, 2004
Press Briefing by Scott McClellan
Q The L.A. Times lead story today mentions the date January 13th, and then it says, about that time in January -- "About that time in January, Secretary Rumsfeld mentioned the prisoner abuse investigation to the President at a regularly scheduled White House meeting." I wondered if having that data point helps you narrow down when this might have been? MR. McCLELLAN: Well, I think having those data points show when this information rose up to higher levels within the military. And certainly, as I said, Secretary Rumsfeld was the one who informed the President. So it would have been some time after Secretary Rumsfeld became aware of it. But the exact dates -- I cannot pinpoint that exact date of when the President was told. Q Scott -- Q Excuse me. Q Sorry. Q This says in January -- MR. McCLELLAN: Right. Q -- the Secretary mentioned it to the President. Now -- MR. McCLELLAN: And I don't know where that came from. I saw that Pentagon officials said they weren't -- they weren't aware, either. Q Now you said, just a few months ago, that at that time, the President asked questions. That's typically memorialized. I wonder if people -- MR. McCLELLAN: No. I wouldn't necessarily say that that's the case. He meets with Secretary Rumsfeld on a regular basis and meets with him once or twice a week, at least, here at the White House in the Oval Office. So he has regular meetings with Secretary Rumsfeld. They talk about a number of important issues when it comes to our security concerns and what we're working to do in Iraq.Q Okay, so if I may just ask a last question. Have people who were associated with that meeting, responsible for that meeting, looked in notes, email, phone calls to see if there was any follow-up done on these questions the President asked?
MR. McCLELLAN: Well, the Pentagon and the military continue to brief about the follow up that was going on and the investigations that were proceeding. That was all very well-known publicly.
Q The White House -- I'm sure the White House, it's in your interest to figure out what this date is --
MR. McCLELLAN: It's in our interest to make sure that something like this doesn't happen again, Mike. That's where our focus is.
Q So you can't -- you're not answering -- you won't say, do people -- made any effort to --
MR. McCLELLAN: No, our focus is on making sure that something like this does not happen again and to make sure that people are being held accountable.
Q Scott, just to clarify that. You said, no -- the answer is "no" to whether or not people are looking into it; people are not looking into it?
MR. McCLELLAN: Looking into?
Q Into whether or not there were notes taken, anybody took any --
MR. McCLELLAN: What we're doing is focusing on the actions that are being taken now, so, no.
I feel like there's some sort of psychology to the number of times McClellan says "no" in that exchange.
The evil of torture.
May 7, 2004
Guardian Unlimited | The Guardian | Torture as pornography
The evil of torture is not restricted to wanton violence inflicted on the body. Many types of extreme pain and physical suffering, whether in war, during acts of religious martyrdom, or simply as a result of poor health, are endured with dignity and patience. The evil of torture lies elsewhere: it denies its victim the minimum recognition offered by society and law and, in doing so, it destroys the respect people routinely expect from others. More importantly, torture aims to undermine the way the victim relates to his or her own self, and thus threatens to dissolve the mainsprings of an individual's personality. Torture is an embodied violation of another individual. The sexual nature of these acts shows that the torturers realise the centrality of sexuality for their victims' identity. The perpetrators in these photographs aim to destroy their victim's sense of self by inflicting and recording extreme sexual humiliation. As in Jean Am's description of being tortured by the Nazis, sexual violation is so devastating not because of the physical agony suffered so much as by the realisation that the other people present are impervious to the victim. Torture destroys "trust in the world . . . Whoever has succumbed to torture can no longer feel at home in the world."
Link stolen from Atrios.
Wow.
May 7, 2004
This is why I needed to put Cocokat on my list of daily reads. She's amazing.
Dropping, um, hints.
May 6, 2004
I figure, I'm batting about a million with hinting, considering Uppity-Negro is now a Dru Blood Fanisite! woo woo!
So, lemme see if it will work with J.
Hi, J. Oh, look at this! Did you notice that Rasputina, one of my favorite bands OF ALL TIME will be playing at STUBBS on Saturday, June 6th? Gee, I wonder who might possibly be willing to go there with me?
(Aside: Would it be rude of me to take J to see my favorite band for his birthday? Damn.)
Wait...it's not on the calendar yet...I'll have to see what develops from here.
Oh, wait...there it is.
Frustration
May 6, 2004
I am so fucking frustrated right now. The house is a mess, and things are getting ruined because of L's carelessness.
I'm tempted to just not clean the house anymore until he is out of here. It's THAT frustrating to have to deal with him. He pretty much stopped cleaning up after himself entirely when he got a job (not that he was doing such a good job of it to begin with). And it's been pretty much a given that when I come home from work, the mess that I left will be waiting for me when I return and then some.
And he does shit like leaving plates and other things out in the backyard where the dogs proceed to tear them to shreds. He also lets the dogs and cat piss in the back room where there is carpet to the extent that I just don't even give a fuck anymore. There's no way that I can keep up with cleaning it up back there. And I've asked him, politely, several times, to watch for that. And he doesn't give a shit. He doesn't give a shit. I've even told him that it's OK with me if he leaves the dogs in the crate while he's there, and he doesn't.
He eats my food, he drinks my fucking coffee. This week, I had the AUDACITY to ask him to please buy some coffee and creamer and sugar (I get Silk Soy creamer and organic raw sugar (sucanat) and organic fair trade coffee, so it's not cheap) and he had the fucking nerve to scoff at me. Like I was being bitchy for even making the request.
He leaves cigarette butts all over the backyard, and doesn't bother to pick them up. He paid a kid to mow the lawn...but only got him to mow the front and side lawns (which I actually prefer to leave overgrown AND HE KNOWS THIS) and didn't bother to have the backyard lawn mowed (which is the part that actually needs it so the kids can play back there and so there aren't so many fucking fleas.)
I'm so fucking sick and tired of him being here when I am not. I know it will be over soon, but it's not fucking soon enough. I'm about to fucking explode with anger. I had to scream today as I searched frantically for one of the THREE HUGE boxes of matches that I bought to light the stove when it's being fussy...I couldn't find any of them, and I started slamming doors and I could actually FEEL my blood pressure rising.
I wish I could just grab him and get in his face and scream out all of the anger I have for him. All of the rage and resentment. I wish I could just spit it all in his face in one, loud, ear-splitting YELL!
And, I mean, I know some of this is my mess, although most of it is the kids' mess. And I know I'm not a tidy person by nature, but the fact that he's here for about 5 hours a day and doesn't clean up ANYTHING pretty much cancels out whatever I manage to do during the time that I'm here (not to mention making it really fucking frustrating to accomplish anything only to see it de-accomplished while I'm at work)...and then there's the fact that I cannot stay here and clean on my days off from work and kids - that he can't bring himself to leave the house for THREE FUCKING HOURS every once in awhile so I can make some real headway around here.
And what he's too fucking dumb or self-absorbed to realize is that it really affects the kids. I mean, I'm not a fucking saint. When I'm surveying this place and it's a fucking pigsty and THEY HAVEN'T EATEN when I come home from work at 10 PM, they KNOW why my jaw clenches, even when I'm not saying anything. When I ask "who left this thing outside for the dogs to chew" and neither of them have, they know that it was papa, and that it pisses me off. They SHOULD know that it's not right for a grown man to leech off of the mother of his children to avoid responsibility for his own damn self, but I'm going to leave that for them to figure out.
Holy fucking Maude. This needs to end soon. I'm at the end of my fucking rope here, and I can't deal with this much longer. I need to step away from the computer, turn on the clash, do the dishes, make lunch, and try to put all of this out of my mind for right now.
Thanks for listening to me vent. I wish I could say that I feel better now.
Casualties of war
May 6, 2004
Look, I know you are already reading Zagg's blog every day, because he's so dreamy. But, just in case you stopped reading for a little while (since he stopped updating for awhile) I think it's only right for me to point you there for this post:
Bush has spent three years dehumanizing Arabs and Muslims with his words. Now he expresses mock outrage when soldiers dehumanize Arabs and Muslims with their deeds.
Story of The Clash
May 6, 2004
I picked up a used copy of Story of The Clash vol. 1 at my local record store the other day for 10 bux. The cashier ringing me out said "Wow. That's a bargain!"
I've had it in the CD player ever since. Singing along to Bankrobber. Rocking out to Radio Clash. Enjoying.
I told J last night that The Clash, along with REM, are timeless. They were the first band I ever really listened to and related to on a visceral level (the story of my first Clash experience is buried in the archives somewhere) and the continue to have a great deal of relevance in my life. When I listen to the Clash, I don't feel like I'm taking a walk down memory lane like I do when I'm listening to New Order or Sisters of Mercy...I feel like I'm existing in the present and feeling all of those feelings I've felt throughout the ages of hearing the music. Things that were immediately apparent, and things I came to understand gradually about myself and the world in relation to their music. I probably appreciate them more now than I did when I first heard them.
So I've been listening to the Clash a lot, and reading this DiPrima book about her years as a young writer living the life of a beat artist in New York (and, as I write this, I'm YELLING at my children "I AM TRYING TO WRITE. PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!") - the freedom, the connections. The joy in being supported by a community, the responsibility of supporting a community of artist.
I remember when bands would come through and crash at my house. It's different from the beats. It wasn't artists and mad gesticulating poets. It was punk rock bands, staying up all night talking to the drummer about life and love and what the fuck we were doing with ourselves.
And I don't want to romanticize poverty, because it's a reality for a lot of people and it's not romantic. But there's something about not caring about wealth. There's something about that time in my life where what I had was always enough, even if it wasn't. And sometimes what I had was more than enough. Not to mention that there was nothing to protect, so all were welcome in my home.
So the combination of listening to the clash and reading this book about beat life is making me want to quit my job and be a slacker artist. Hahaha. It's not going to happen, but it's fun to fantasize. Maybe when the kids are out of the house and on their own and I am not responsible for the well-being of so many damn people. I hope it's not too late by then. I'll keep listening to the Clash to remind myself.
Torture.
May 6, 2004
Shameless Agitator talks about torture:
Suddenly, everyone is talking about the "abuse" of Iraqi prisoners instead of the TORTURE of Iraqi prisoners. Why the switch? Just because Rummy says so?I listened in shock as Al Franken fell prey. On his show yesterday, he stopped using the torture word. For the first time, I sent him an email explaining that he was doing exactly what Shrub and Company want him to do -- change the word, change the meaning, change the message. Has he become an agent of the republican establishment?
I think Al Franken is the weak link in Air America. Unfortunately, he also seems to be one of the most popular. If he and Randi Rhodes would leave and let Chuck D (and his crew) and Janeane Garafalo (and her crew) take over...I'd be able to listen a lot more.
Our Homeschooling Week
May 6, 2004
We've had a pretty mellow week this week, activity-wise. Monk's been playing Clue Finders 4th Grade adventures pretty zealously, and I think it's been introducing him to some concepts that are new, so I haven't had to address anything major with him. I think he's pretty content with what he's learning.
On Tuesday, we went to the library to get another load of Goosebumps books. Monk picked out a bunch of books about baseball, too. So, Monk's been spending a lot of his spare time reading. I've been reading some stuff to Coley, as well.
Yesterday we had a field trip to McKinney Falls. We were given a hiking tour for about half an hour, which was the perfect length of time for the kiddos. And then the forestry guy gave us a little lecture about the history of the area. How it was formed by volcanos, the kinds of people who lived there, etc. Then we all went over to the falls and played in the water. Cole nearly gave me several heart attacks, but he's still alive so all is well. We saw turtles in the deep water and lots of minnows, and a frog, and a dead crayfish. And the kids had fun. And I guess I did, too...after I chilled out and took my shoes of so I could wade in a bit.
Today we have no plans, and tomorrow we have no plans. It's Earth Science day today, but I think we got a significant amount of Earth Science yesterday. I might read Monk's plant book to them and maybe have Monk do his "homework" from yesterday, which was to write 5 sentences about his field trip. Tomorrow is geography day, and...I dunno. I have no idea what we are going to do...if we do anything. I wanted to start geocaching on geography days, so we'll see.
Another Tattoo Idea
May 6, 2004
Sort of in the middle of my chest, possibly with flames around it or somehow shining. If I do this, I will have to see if John P will draw it for me. He didn't draw the bulldozer, but it was modeled after a die-cast bulldozer that he gave me.
I'm leaning towards this for right now, just because I think it would be good for me in a symbolic/iconoclastic sort of way.
But I did decide that when I do the woodcut tulips, I can do one at a time and avoid the HUGE expense and major pain of that much work all at once.
New blogs in the blogroll
May 5, 2004
I've been doing some clearing of the blogroll these days. I took out some of the full bleed blogs who jumped ship when things looked grim over there - actually, I moved them to the huge blogroll at the bottom, though I might move some back up to daily reads when I get around to it...and I took out some of the daily reads that had stopped posting or were no longer there, and I think I added some people to the huge blogroll. I try to blogroll everyone who participates here regularly, but I find that there are gaps sometimes, so if I don't blogroll you or don't visit your site, feel free to ask me why...it's probably just that it slipped under my radar.
I want to start doing blog crushes again this month. I just feel like I'm reading the same 40 blogs day in and day out, and I want some new blog blood. I'm going to try to crush on blogs that don't get a lot of attention, like snakehairedgirl. Why isn't this woman famous yet? I added her to my daily reads because I never get around to her otherwise. Cocokat, Plain Layne, Shameless Agitator, Janine...of course, Susan. All excellent writers. I want to read them more often than I do when they are buried among the other blogs in the shamelessly huge blogroll. I also added Living on Less, because it's been one of my favorites for a long time, but again, I never get around to reading it. I probably should add Feministe, too...I'll do that a little later.
There are others that are buried still, but I think 25-30 a day is about my maximum. I don't even think I hit the daily blogs daily anymore. And I like to keep blogs that are more frequently updated on that list...otherwise I hit the link and there's no update...and when you're tooling along at 56k like I am, you need to be selective about the links you hit. However, if you are not one of my daily reads, and you think I would love you, let me know and I'll check you out and probably crush on you for a bit. We all know how fickle I am.
Also, anyone out there who is still in Blogger hell, or who maybe doesn't have a blog but wants one, let me know. I have some space at fullbleed, and I'd be happy to take on some cool new bloggers. My preference is to host mamas with attitude, but non-mamas with attitude can also apply.
Anyway, I gotta go play MadLibs with Monk. Hope yr all having a good day.
Missing Bob Edwards.
May 5, 2004
I actually had to hit the road while Morning Edition was still on this morning. I haven't listened since before they gave Mr. Edwards the ax, and I guess I was shocked by his absence into remembering that last night I dreamed that Bob Edwards was my lover, and I kept making him say "I'm Bob Edwards" before we fucked.
Um, I think that's a pretty good peek into what it's like to have sex with me...
UPDATE: J sent me this response after reading this post:
You know I love you, but I'm really not sure if I can pull this one off.
awww...I wonder if I should even bother telling him about my Noam Chomsky/Howard Zinn 3-way fantasies.
What. The. Fuck?!
May 5, 2004
Ran into this article last night, and posted it in my work blog. I think I had nightmares about this:
Appearing Friday in the Rose Garden with Canada's prime minister, President Bush was answering a reporter's question about Canada's role in Iraq when suddenly he swerved into this extraneous thought:"There's a lot of people in the world who don't believe that people whose skin color may not be the same as ours can be free and self-govern. I reject that. I reject that strongly. I believe that people who practice the Muslim faith can self-govern. I believe that people whose skins aren't necessarily -- are a different color than white can self-govern."
What does such careless talk say about the mind of this administration? Note that the clearly implied antecedent of the pronoun "ours" is "Americans." So the president seemed to be saying that white is, and brown is not, the color of Americans' skin. He does not mean that. But that is the sort of swamp one wanders into when trying to deflect doubts about policy by caricaturing and discrediting the doubters.
I think it actually says more than that. If you recall, this was something that the president was experimenting with during the so-called press conference. Granted, it's insidious enough on its own merits, but to me it just says that clearly the president is not functioning. He's merely repeating things that he has been told to repeat, and falling back on things when he can't think of anything better to say. I mean, read the transcript, the words are lifted almost verbatim from the press conference.
It's eerie and bizarre.
More from the transcript - immediately following that remark:
PRESIDENT BUSH: And the Prime Minister -- I don't want to put words in his mouth -- but I think he shares that great sense of optimism and possibility. And it's good to have a friend who shares that with us.
Would you like to have the First Ladies come on up?
PRIME MINISTER MARTIN: I've got to say, though, I really do like sharing a press conference with you. You answer those questions perfectly. (Laughter.)
PRESIDENT BUSH: Thank you. Record that.
Laughter? The fuck are they putting in the coffee at these things?
easy vegan tortilla casserole
May 4, 2004
(you might try adding an extra couple cups of beans, if you like things nice and beany.)
bAnal Probe: The rectal thermometer of the business world??
May 4, 2004
this is enough to make me want to start publishing bAnal Probe again.
Just out of curiosity, is there anyone out there who would submit true stories on a (usually political) theme if I did start publishing again?
Lawyer reward etiquette, anyone?
May 4, 2004
I had another appointment with my lawyer yesterday, to review the paperwork I had finished and to get advice and answer questions. I was there for about 40 minutes, and the man charged me 20 bux, which was half of what he was going to charge me per 30 minute session, which was already going to be half of his going rate. In other words, this guy is doing me a tremendous favor...and it seems like he's only charging me for show.
So...I'm wondering...would it be proper for me to bring him a batch of cookies or something the next time I meet with him? I just feel like I should show some appreciation somehow. Or maybe I should wait until everything is said and done. After all, he could be giving me all the wrong advice, and I certainly wouldn't want to reward THAT.
Tish on fat.
May 4, 2004
Tish has a response to the New York Times article I linked to below:
The last line in the article is a quote from Peter Sterns in which he says that fat people, faced with the burden of being seen as immoral, may eat ice cream as a way of comforting themselves. It just so happens that I ate some ice cream right before I began to type. I can tell you that it was very tasty and I enjoyed it. And somehow I'm still pissed off about the idea of being seen as immoral because of the size of my ass. I don't feel a bit better about job discrimination, lack of access to public facilities, difficulty in finding unbiased health care, a hostile public life, and on and on and on and on. I guess I could eat more ice cream. And yet, since I'm not a complete idiot, I don't imagine that it will make me feel better about those things.
(among other things.) Tish is great.
Iraq Veteran Responds to George Bush
May 4, 2004
While some people attempt to distract themselves from the bullshit in Iraq by obsessing over an artist who falsely claimed to be a member of the military (to which my response is...um...good thing this guy is making posters and not setting public fucking policy. Dorks.) an actual soldier is speaking out about his experience in Iraq [transcript].
Thank you, Paul Rieckhoff. I hope you do continue to speak out.
Murder the mother to save the fetus?
May 4, 2004
Trish Wilson has a series of posts about a 16-year old woman who was shot in the head at a women's health clinic...and what can only be described as "zany commenting hi-jinx" pursues.
Well, not really, but I have no other way to describe people who think it's, you know, understandable why a boyfriend would want to kill the mother to "save" the baby. Although I did add upyernoz to my blogroll due to his reasoned responses to the unreasonable rantings and ravings of the, um, "pro-lifers."
Demonizing Fat
May 4, 2004
The New York Times > Arts > Demonizing Fat in the War on Weight
In what may turn out to be his most controversial claim, Mr. Campos writes: "Contrary to almost everything you have heard, weight is not a good predictor of health. In fact a moderately active larger person is likely to be far healthier than someone who is svelte but sedentary." To bolster his argument, he cites several studies, including one published by the Cooper Institute, a private research institution in Dallas.
I find it...odd...that this is considered the "most controversial claim." Is it controversial to claim that people who are active are "likely to be" more physically fit than people who are not active?
How ironic that a fucking article about anti-fat bias contains so much anti-fat bias in its reporting.
Well, maybe not ironic. Maybe just typical.
[link courtesy of redheaddread]
The politics of WTF?
May 3, 2004
I want to write about politics, but I find, more often than not, that lately when I listen to or read the news, all I can think is "What the Fuck?"
Is anyone else having this problem?
For instance, the soundbites from George Bush after his appearance before the 9/11 commission (sitting on cheney's lap?) "What the fuck?" I mean, if you were a reporter and you had your microphone in his face and he made that utterly ridiculous comment, wouldn't you AT LEAST laugh out loud...and maybe even pull the mic away and say something like "Ladies and gentlemen, our leader is a complete idiot and we are all fucked." Instead, everyone reported it as if there was absolutely nothing that would indicate the president is a drooling moron and we are all to carry on with our business.
I can't deal with this. I'm having a difficult time processing things like prisoners being stacked like human pyramids with grinning soldiers standing nearby...I just have no idea what to say about this, you know? I feel like I've said it all before, and I don't know what else I can say to make it stop.
So I go on and on about my personal problems, because at least I have some control over them. A modicum of control, anyway.
I just want to state clearly that I'm outraged. I'm in a state of perpetual WHAT THE FUCK? It sucks. I'm pissed. I don't know what to do with that anger, but it's there. Avoidance works to a certain extent. I'm glad there are people like the hosts of unfiltered on Air America who can stand to talk about the outrage every day. I don't think I can. I just end up getting frustrated and discouraged. Every conversation I have ends with "What the fuck."...and it doesn't seem productive.
Blah.
Hanging Laundry.
May 3, 2004
So, wow...I was just knocked on my ass by one of those deep psychological revelations while hanging laundry. It was so intense that I nearly vomited.
I was considering an e-mail from J, where he invited me to a family get-together...or a get-together where his family might be. And the previous e-mail from him had been about how much he loves my kids. And there have been issues (coming from me) about the fact that I haven't met J's family or friends yet. And I started to feel panic at the thought of meeting family members. And I started to fight that panic by blaming J for waiting so long, but I decided to go a little deeper than that, because here he was attempting to bring me in and I was still desperately searching for excuses to avoid being brought in.
And I thought about my envy of the support K8 receives from her family, and I thought about my own family...not necessarily my immediate family, but my extended family...and my estrangement from them. And I thought about my Italian heritage, and how important family is. My grandparents on my father's side are from Italy. And I'm watching Soprano's (yeah, yeah, I know it's fictional, but it does really paint a picture about Italian families that seems consistant) and I'm reading a book about a woman who grew up in a big Italian family, and I'm thinking about how I was excluded from the family and my brother and sisters were not.
And it's like my brain is trying to figure out a puzzle with all of this. I'm thinking, too, about my kids, and how they don't have ANY extended family on either side, and how cast out to sea that makes me feel. And I'm thinking about the slow creep of estrangement in my immediate family - I don't talk to my sister, my brother doesn't talk to me.
And then the divorce. I think about the divorce. I think about how desperately I clung to the idea of me and Steven together because it was the only family I had. And I hear me telling myself "It's so obvious. You don't deserve that." And, you know, of course I tell myself to shut the fuck up, but it's too late because I'm already doubled over and dry heaving on the ground.
So, whoah...I guess I'm having some issues with family. I'm not sure what to do with that, other than to stop blaming J for this issue (thankfully, I know enough about myself to not ACTUALLY blame him for things like this in a confrontational way.) Although...I do think it's probably best for me to not attempt to throw myself into those kinds of relationships without first really working through some of this stuff.
Maybe a call to my therapist is in order, or maybe I could just do some blogtherapy here. Maybe I can work through this stuff on my own.
But...wow. That laundry line has some sort of magical power. It's like the divining rod of spiritual growth.
Stressed out mama.
May 2, 2004
Let me just give you a few of the choice highlights from today's Violet Crown Festival, in order of appearance:
I mean, everything turned out ok in the end, and in between each of these minor crises, we did have fun. But it's so fucking hard being a single parent at these things. If there was just another person there to help keep track of things, it would be so much easier. Thankfully, monk is old enough and cautious enough to be trusted on his own a bit (as long as he's within sight, because I'm paranoid) but holy fucking mother of maude, you know? I'll be amazed if Coley doesn't give me a freaking heart attack before I turn 40...and what's with these rude ass fucking people trying to ruin my sunday, anyway. Gah.
Miraculously, we all made it home OK. We got some sun, ate a bunch of crappy food, did some running around, saw the neighbors, talked to people, and all in all managed to have a pretty good time in spite of it all.
But I swear I am NEVER going to another festival without another person there to help corral the kids again. I don't care if it's in my own fucking back yard...it's just far too stressful.
Further evidence that google gives the people what they want.
May 2, 2004
Google Search: how to negotiate a divorce with an asshole
June
May 2, 2004
I'm lying here in the station
Stretching out on the tracks
For all the possible places that I might arrive -Camper Van Beethoven.
I remember a coffee shop in Rogers Park. What was it called? We used to go and play old Maid while everyone around us played backgammon and chess. And one night, open mike night, I wasn't there, but I heard the story. All of my friends signed up, one after the other, and read poems about "June" - a fictional lover.
June is the birthmonth of my sweetie. I know it's may now, but I'm thinking about June because of that camper van beethoven song:
"And I wrote you this letter, cuz
the clothes were hung on the line
And the crows flew out of the field
and up in
to the sky."
Because I am. I'm stretched on those tracks and I'm writing those words and mailing them off. Again. And I haven't felt this kind of stirring since those days of mad excitement. The excitement isn't there, but the stirring is immense.
I remember my first boyfriend. My only request of him was that one day he would maybe take me out to a vast field where there was nothing in sight for miles. Just flat and grass and blue sky above. I wanted him to take me to a great, empty field and lay there, holding my hand, staring up at the sky. He never did, and I totally forgot about that longing. I never questioned it then. Now I know. Staring up at the sky, the neverendingness. Not having to speak a word. These are all things I thought were unrealistic fantasies. These are all things I folded up neatly and packed in a box and shipped to that coffee shop where my friends recited poems about imaginary lovers.
I'm relearning my dreams. I had them memorized, and then forgot them. They come back to me in strains of songs. Like little pebbles dropped from chubby hands, steering me home. I expand to encompass and exhale flowers and butterflies. A touch becomes liquid emotion, and I burst into tears, wondering what I've been doing all of this time. Setting myself right is the hardest thing. I fall and fall and fall and fall, and though it's delightful I don't know where I'm going to hit.
June
Are you weary of the lengthening days?
Do you secretly wish for November's rain?
And the harvest moon top reign in the sky (now that it's June)
There is nothing in this world more bitter than Spring
Now I wrote you this letter
Because the clothes were hung on the line
And the crows flew out of the field
And up into the sky
I'm lying here in the station
Stretching out on the tracks
For all the possible places that I might arrive
There is nothing in this world more bitter than love
In all those long days of June
Bring me the long, brown grass now that it's dry
There is nothing in this world more bitter than Spring