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« September 2005 | Main | November 2005 »

The Sanctity of Marriage?

October 31, 2005

A commenter on Rox's post about the Scalito Nomination had this to say in answer to Roxanne's question about the defensibility of SPOUSAL notification prior to abortion:

It is not rational to simultaneously expect marriage to mean something, to expect a man to be responsible, and yet give choice within a marriage solely to the woman.

The left wants choice without responsibility, the right wants responsibility and no choice. In any case, it is a sorry state of affairs when a married woman would undergo an abortion without talking to her spouse. Why fight for the gay right to be married when marriage is increasingly meaningless?

...and gave me my first Halloween Scare* today.

It's as if the whole world has been sprinkled with magic pixie marriage dust, where all married women are secure and happy with their spouses. The implication of this, of course, subtle though it might be, is that those who have real reason to NOT discuss an issue such as abortion with her spouse are at fault for that situation and, therefore, can go fuck themselves.

I mean, the fact that this person could even say this without considering the myriad reasons why a woman might not want to discuss her choices with her spouse confirms a lot to me that I already knew. And while it's usually nice to get validation, it's not at all nice to have it proven to me again and again that abused women are absolutely invisible to society at large.

I've seen this play out to some extent in my personal situation. I've seen people move cautiously away from me out of fear of my situation, and I've experienced the difficulty in finding refuge from my relationship due to prohibitively expensive attorneys. Marriage already gives an abusive partner an unbelievable amount of power to abuse, without forcing women to get SPOUSAL CONSENT before making a choice that will potentially tie her to her abuser for the rest of her life.

So FUCK your fucking "sanctity of marriage" bullshit. I'm calling for SANCTITY OF A BASIC RIGHT TO SAFETY that most men feel absolutely entitled to, without question. And many women only dream of.

*If the words SPOUSAL CONSENT don't give you enough of a scare as it is.

ETA: Damnit, it's SPOUSAL NOTIFICATION, but it sounds equally fucking scary to me.

Learning something new.

October 31, 2005

Thanks to Marian I learned something new first thing this morning:

But in an age of increasing tribalization around the world, the fact that Einstein and Paul Robeson, two of the 20th Century's most famous and popular figures, were not only friends but co-chaired the American Crusade to End Lynching and shared a dozen other anti-racist activities, could serve as a role model for millions. Yet the story has remained untold — until now — as has Einstein's support for W. E. B. Du Bois, his friendship with Marian Anderson and his many ties with the African American people living in Princeton's own little ghetto, in and around Witherspoon Street."

Gratitude - Version Homoerotic Soldier Songs

October 30, 2005

Ten things I am grateful for this week (in no particular order):

1. The Soldiering Life by the Decemberists* (and the sing-alongs it inspires)
2. Sweet Dogs Learning New Stuff
3. Dog Almighty
4. "Happy Halloween" (transcript coming soon)
5. Nice people to share Dog Almight with
6. The 11-year old playdate (silence, and no kids in sight) (I'm assuming they are in the backyard)
7. Partly Sunny, 77 degrees
8. A period without cramps (and I finally got rid of the headache)
9. Sunday
10. Coley didn't scream and cry in childcare today, so I could listen to the whole service.

The Soldiering Life
by: The Decemberists

Ambling madly all over the town
The call to arms you liken to a whisper,
I liken to a radio.
You were a brick bat, a bowery tuff, so rough
They culled you from a cartoon
Pulled out of your pantaloons.

But you,
My brother in arms,
I'd rather I'd lose my limbs
Than let you come to harm.

But you ,
My bombazine doll,
The bullets may singe your skin
And the mortars may fall.

But I,
I never felt so much life
Than tonight
Huddled in the trenches,
Gazing on the battle field,
Our rifles blaze away;
We blaze away.

Corporal Bradley of regiment five
In proud array standing by the bathing
Soldiers and the stevedores.
We laid on the mattress and tumbled to sleep
Our eyes aligned, swaddled in our civies
Cradled in our dungarees.

But you,
My brother in arms,
I'd rather I'd lose my limbs
Than let you come to harm.

But you,
My bombazine doll,
The bullets may singe your skin
And the mortars may fall.

But I,
I never felt so much life
Than tonight
Huddled in the trenches,
Gazing on the battle field
Our rifles blaze away;
We blaze away.
We blaze away.
We blaze away.

The more I know men, the better I like my dog*

October 30, 2005

What am I doing with all of that "extra time" I have, now that I am once again gloriously single?

I'm working on training my dog. The boxer. Not the beagle. The beagle can go fuck herself. I *puffy heart* my boxer.

In fact, I hadn't even realized how much I had been "working with her" until last night. All I've really been doing is taking her on walks as often as I possibly can, which equates to about 3-4 times a week (because it has been difficult to walk her during the day, as she is INSANE on the leash. But we are, evidently, working on that).

The issues I have with the boxer are manifold:

1. She likes to steal food off of tables, counters, and out of the hands of small children.
2. She is INSANE on the leash (as mentioned above)
3. She is extra-super-aggressive on the leash. If she encounters another dog while she is on a leash, she will foam and growl and, given the opportunity, attack. She does not behave this way off-leash. She's fairly alpha, but she generally doesn't try to kill other dogs offleash, she just asserts her dominance.
4. She barks. Loudly. When she is playing. And it sounds like a mean, agressive bark. Plus, it's LOUD.

...all of this is compounded, and made more difficult by the fact that she is deaf. So I have to use hand signals with her...which means I also have to train her to look at me. For instructions.

My workaround to the leash aggression/difficulty has been to walk her late at night. I take her across the street to the playground and let her run herself out a bit off leash before our walk, at which point she is generally pretty well-behaved on the leash. She doesn't heel, exactly, but she also doesn't randomly yank me in the direction of anything and everything she deems interesting. This has been working really well for us, except for the loud barking thing. As soon as I let her off of the leash, she barks and barks and barks.

Getting a deaf dog to stop barking is a tricky endeavor. First, it's difficult to discern if she even understands what she is doing wrong when you are telling her to be quiet. Second, she can't fucking hear you tell her to be quiet, anyway. I have been struggling with this dilemma for some time, until last night. Last night, we had a break through.

I'm sorry to say that the breakthrough occurred at the end of the leash. She was playing a game where whe was barking continuously, LOUDLY, and refusing to come to me so I could help her calm down. So, I had to pop her (as gently as possible) with the end of the leash. I don't think it hurt her, but it got her attention, which was something my crouching and patting my knees (which is our usual signal for "come and calm down") wasn't doing. She thought I was playing, and the pop told her, no. I'm not playing. Now shut up and get over here. Of course, I gave her a lot of love when she came to me, and put her back on the leash...and when I took her off again, she still romped playfully, but did not bark...and returned to me at my signal.

The coolest thing of all that happened last night, though, was I was able to take her offleash and have her walk by my side back and forth across the tennis courts. Even after she saw another dog! She stayed with me. And when she broke away, she ran a hundred yards or so towards the other dog, then checked back with me and came back when she saw me motion.

I'm so thrilled about these little breakthroughs. It's so much easier to have a dog who knows how to mind...especially since the beagle is such an untamable pain in the ass. I'm just sorry it has taken me 5 years to find the time to work with Twyla. She's been a totally pleasant dog in the meantime, but now walks with her are actually something to LOOK FORWARD TO rather than something to grit my teeth and tolerate because she's a sweetie who deserves to get out and walk around the neighborhood on occasion.

I wish you all could meet my dog. She's adorable and sweet. She follows me around the house (which is annoying unless I really focus on the fact that she's following me out of love and devotion rather than, you know, a desire to make me trip all over her) she's super sweet to all of the kiddos & while she's not the smartest dog I've ever known, she learns pretty fast, especially taking her handicap into account. Plus, like most boxers, she's fastidious about cleanliness, and never smells all doggy (although I need to start brushing her teeth more regularly, because...GAH...dog BREATH.) PLUS: She doesn't lock herself in her apartment and ignore me for weeks on end OR get into arguments about pants with me. She's my Twyla. My big, goofy-looking, beautiful, sweet puppy dog.

If I had a good picture on this computer, I would put one here. Since I don't, see the montage on the left.

*Ah, how well I remember the sparkly transfer of this, complete with little dog-heads poking out of each and every "o", on a t-shirt my mother used to wear while I was in my formative years. Little did I appreciate the wisdom of these words.

Divorce Wars

October 28, 2005

I am having two ongoing wars with my ex which I feel are both absolutely ridiculous and are total power plays on his part.

The first one, which I think is fairly universal and one of those "I never thought I would be doing this" things, is about clothes.

I used to pack a full suitcase with the boys when they went to dad's for the weekend. Then...things stopped coming back. Which, in coley's case is fine. I have so many clothes for that child, I was happy to see some of it go. But with Monk, I don't get hand-me-downs anymore, so I need all of the clothes that I have. Plus, dad started complaining about clothes "not being appropriate" for the weather...and then once even complaining that the suitcase I chose to pack them in was inconvenient for the bus.

I was like "screw this!" The divorce decree clearly states that we are each responsible for clothing and feeding the children when they are in our care, so let him buy the clothes.

Well, now he tells the kids to gather clothes to bring with them. He did it a couple of weeks ago when the weather got cool. Monk ran back into the house to grab 3 pairs of his nicest, warmest pants to bring to dad's house. (I haven't seen them since) and now this week, I get an email from dad WITH FREAKING CLOTHING SUGGESTIONS.

I told him 20 bux at savers would solve this problem permanently. I said I am not going to pack a bag for them, and he is not to send them on his missions to fuck with me via clothing wars. (well, I was actually more diplomatic than that, but I did point out that our divorce decree clearly states that we are independently responsible for the clothing needs of our children, and that I want this issue to never be discussed again.

Blah.

The second issue is about church, but it also includes birthday parties. Monk likes to go to church, so I have been picking him up from his dad's house on Sundays to take him there at his request. Dad won't take him. And I really don't feel comfortable assuming I can just drop by to get him without first knowing what their plans are. Dad doesn't have a phone, so there is very limited means of getting in contact without driving over and honking. I felt like that was an imposition on me to avoid an imposition on dad, so I stopped picking Monk up. Instead, I told dad that if Monk wanted to go to church, he could call me and I would be happy to drop by and pick him up, since dad's house is right on the way to church.

Dad refuses. INSISTS that it's MY responsibility to either intuit Monk's desire to go to church, or check with him on Saturday night...via email because there's no phone (but email is not always a safe bet, either.) I refuse to do this, again feeling like it's placing a burden on me that's not mine. So I told Monk that he is now responsible for letting me know whether he needs me to pick him up for church. Of course, dad feels this is "bringing Monk into the middle of our conflict." But I think it's more like "teaching Monk that mom is not the psychic satisfier of all desires, regardless of whether or not she is inconvenienced."

This is particularly true now that dad is moving way far south and will no longer be on the way to church. I told dad that if Monk wants to go to church and if dad is not willing to drive him there I will still be happy to pick him up if that desire is expressed to me in a timely manner. Hell, I'd even be happy to do it if I was told "We will let you know (in a timely manner) when we DON'T want you to get him, otherwise, come get him." What I'm being told, instead, is that I need to check in every week to ask if I can do a favor for dad (by taking his son to an activity that is occurring when he is the person in charge of caring for the children.) You know? That's just...wrong.

Which brings me to birthday parties. How the fuck do divorced people do birthday parties? As if having divorced parents isn't stigma enough, now Monk has to miss birthday parties because his parents are divorced? Because birthday parties happen on weekends...and he is with his dad 1/2 of the weekends of the month (or more)...therefore dad either has to be willing to take him to the birthday party, or Monk is out of luck.

That sucks.

It sucks that I have to be at war over PANTS. (I'm seriously about to toss 20 bux at the man and tell him to go buy the kids some clothes so we can be done. with. it. already.) It sucks that Monk either has to miss church (and I get blamed for it) or I have to perpetuate this myth that it's mommy's job to go out of her way for the kids while dad sits back and plays Nintendo. And it sucks that, even divorced, dad still feels like he needs to work the power button as much as humanly possible.

I have three words for Mr. L:

GIVE IT UP (already).

(well, that OR):

GO FUCK YOURSELF.

***
ETA: Thanks to some discussions, some contemplation, and these comments, I came up with the following response to his ludicrousness (ludicrosity?):

Thank you, L. [the dad]

This quote from you helped me come to a couple of conclusions:

[from an actual email L sent to me]
“You are seriously erring, in my viewpoint, and making everyone uncomfortable, by overstepping your boundaries as one of the children's parents. I don't try to interfere with your time with them, I would appreciate it if you would finally do the same when they are with me.”

The conclusions are:

1-Regarding their clothing: It is clearly stated in the divorce agreement that we are each responsible for clothing, feeding, and sheltering the children when they are in our care. Therefore, I ask that you please return all of the clothing of the children’s that you did not purchase that is in your possession and please buy them the clothing they need when they are in your care. I do not have to go to a state-sponsored parenting class to intuitively know that it’s not healthy for the children to have to pack a suitcase to go to their dad’s house which is ostensibly advertised as “their other home.” If your house is their other home, their other home should have clothing for them. This is, officially, the end of this argument.

2-Regarding church: I have been picking Monk up on the Sundays they are in your care as a favor to YOU, not Monk. As you state above, it was wrong of me to “overstep my boundaries” and parent for you while you are supposed to be doing the parenting. Therefore, I will inform Monk that he is to talk to you about church if he would like to attend on the Sundays he is with you. Church is HIS activity, not mine. I would hope you would provide him with the continuity he desires (for crying out loud, we went to the library today and they chose the same books on tape that they chose when they went to the library with you — I think these children are aching for continuity) by bringing him to church as he desires, but if you do not, it is none of my business. NOR IS IT MY FAULT. Please do not include me in your decision on this matter in any way. I will inform Monk that I will be bringing him to church on the weeks he is with me, and it is up to his father (you) to handle the other weeks.

3-Regarding the 6 AM drop off time: I will no longer be here at 6 AM to receive the children. Having the children an extra 1-2 hours a week is clearly overstepping my boundaries as one of the children’s parents, and allowing you to use me as their babysitter in lieu of coming up with your own solution to your transportation issues is not something I wish to do any longer. It’s bad for the kids, it’s bad for me, and I can’t think it’s any good for you if I allow you to continue to maintain your sense of entitlement to have me perform all of the functional duties of parent, childcare provider, and event coordinator while you sit back and dictate what I will and will not do for you. So you know, I will be informing the children of this fact in advance so that they are not disappointed if you should choose to attempt to drop them off at 6 AM next Friday morning.

3-Regarding birthday parties: In the future, I will forward all of Monk’s birthday party invitations to you without comment if they occur during your time with the children. I leave it up to you to deal accordingly with whatever disappointment Monk feels in not getting to go to his friend’s parties. Perhaps that will convince you that it’s not about you or me, but them.

4-Regarding my irritability: Whatever. It is clear to me that you are resorting to your tactics of manipulation, condescension, and criticism in an attempt to gain some sort of power over me. This is the dynamic that I sought to eliminate from my life when I got the divorce, and I’m not going to allow it to continue. You can complain all you want about items 1, 2, 3, and 4—but they are all within the letter of our divorce decree. You can’t insist that I NOT overstep my bounds as the other parent unless it serves you that I do so. That’s bullshit. I’m calling you on it. I won’t have it any longer. It’s too bad, really. Our divorce decree can be as flexible as we allow it to be to enable us to serve the needs and best interests of our children. I am willing to allow for that flexibility, as long as the flexibility is, in fact, in the best interests of the children. I’m not finding that to be the case with any of these demands on your part.

Take care,

drucilla

Friday Random Ten - version "Landricus Bagicus"

October 28, 2005

Wow. Bel Biv Devoe? I don't think I have anything quite. that. bad. in my collection. Let's see, though:

1. Jawbreaker - Gutless
2. Velvet Underground - That's the Story of My Life
3. General Public - Never You Done That
4. Operation Ivy - Gonna Find You
5. John Lennon - And So This is Christmas
6. Jets to Brazil - One Summer Last Fall
7. Soft Cell - Tainted Love
8. REM & Natalie Merchang - Photograph
9. Erykay Badu ft. Common Ground - Love of my Life (instrumental)
10. Minutemen - Maybe Partying Will Help

Bonus Tracks

• The Beauty Pill - Quote Devout Unquote
• The Decemberists - The Legionnaire's Lament
• Jimmy Cliff - No Justice
• A Tribe Called Quest - What's the Scenario

Quote Devout Unquote
The Beauty Pill

Oh Show some shame
Santa Claus he died for your sins
Or was it the other way around?
Or was there someone else involved?

Facts Dates and Names
It's all the same
You never know
We sink and We dive and
You never know

Chorus:
Dog spit is cleaner than human
Same goes for cognition
Pain is pure, pain is fleeting
To see and touch Smell and taste and listen
There's no objection
Asked and answered
Sustained but it goes to the heart
of motivation
You never know
You never know

There's no black ops
Yeah, nobody's reading your mail
No matte-finished helicopters
To swoop down and snatch you
Out of the habitrail

Just bullet points
And bullet points
This one's pass, this one's fail
We sink and we dive and
You never know

Chorus
+It's so hard to know
how to let go
It's so hard to know
how to let go
It's so hard to know
how to let go
It's easy to learn
how to let go
let go
let go
let go...

Cause you never know.

"no" day was a success

October 27, 2005

After Coley came to grips with the fact that mama was going to refuse service until reciprocal courtesy was well-established, we managed to make it through the entire day (including bathtime WITH hairwashing...although I did not hazard a walk) without a single temper tantrum.

So, basically, "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

I fucking hate it when age-old aphorisms prove to be the best parenting mottos.

Turning the Tables

October 27, 2005

I declare today official "no" day, in which mama says "no" to every single request Coley makes. I'm hoping in doing so, Coley will realize how abso-fucking-lutely irritating it is for him to do the same to me every. single. day.

I stupidly thought that he would stop this kind of behavior THE DAY he turned five. Evidently, he is a holdout. Last night, I took the kids for a "nice, relaxing" walk - since I worked during the day for once, so we could have a nice evening together. Coley SCREAMED, SCREECHED, and CATERWAULED the entire duration of the walk. It wasn't relaxing. At all.

Pansy claims this means he will turn out to be a much more bearable adult. I think that's sweet, albeit wishful, thinking. Mostly because it's difficult to imagine he will make it to adulthood, given the eleventy gazillion kinds of crazy he is driving me.

In minute three of my experiment of saying no to all of Coley's requests, he has collapsed on the floor, wailing "I waaaaaaant soooooome looooooooove."

Baby, sometimes love MEANS saying no.

I have a feeling he will take a bath soon. Without the 3 hour argument that normally precedes bathtime. What do you think?

word orgy

October 25, 2005

While I'm on the subject of words...isn't the word "liver" kind of cool? It's sort of like the human equivalent to the "starter" of a car. A word that you use so commonly that the banality of its literal meaning becomes submersed in itself, and makes it sound almost exotic.

Think about it. Your liver. It keeps you alive. The starter. You know, the thing that starts the car. It's just delightful!

The other activity I'm pursuing with the kids this week is this weird sub/super-language that is suggested in the first level of the Writing Strands curriculum. It's really fun. You basically just come up with even more common terms for things. Like, I just told Monk to wipe his snot-producer with a face-washer. And to put my cup of jump-starter on the level surface near the water-dispenser. Soon, we will get into our people-mover and make motion towards the liver-inner of our play-people.

Language is so. freaking. fun!

Poetry

October 25, 2005

I'm re-reading _A Celebration of Bees_ & it put me in the mood to try doing poetry with the children again. Coley picked up poetry awhile back, and went through a spate of poem-writing that was actually delightful. Monk is a harder sell.

What I have done is tacked two large sheets of posterboard on the wall. The theme of our first poem is "autumn." The children have been asked to "gather words" to put on our posterboards, and we are building the list throughout the week. I try to riff off of them a bit - we work with the five senses, and then I ask them to think of other words that go with the words they select. For instance, when Monk says "rough" in response to my question of "how does fall feel?" I ask him, "what other things are rough?" And a huge array of random-seeming words burst forth onto our sheet.

It's amazing how inspiring it is to see this list of words, and makes me consider story-boarding my writing more. I am seeing, right now: "Frozen rake" "chipmunks shuffle sticks" "chocolate voices, burning leaves" "acorns chirp, kittens falling" "red doves migrate" etc, etc.

At the end of the week, we will take all of our words and arrange them into poetry. The kids were both unenthused at first - with that "Oh, great...she's at it again" kind of attitude they get when I try to engage them in a newish activity - but now, they seem to be more and more excited each time we head to the word-board for a 5-10 minute session. Which makes me think that I need to be more persistent with some of the other things I try.

I will definitely post whatever we come up with. We'll probably work on these word-board poems for awhile before I start the next chapter of Esbensen's delightful book.

Random whining

October 25, 2005

I'm guessing there will be light blogging this week as all of a sudden it seems like I am tremendously busy. I think it has to do with the fact that I took a day off last week because Monk was sick, and a day off yesterday (ha!) because of Coley's birthday (even though I ended up working from home here and there throughout the day, anyway) and now work is just piled up both at work and at home. I've also been sick with a cold that has me feeling lazy and overwhelmed in general. I sniffly, my lips are chapped, and I have a cut on the inside of my lip.

Blah.

Plus, I discovered last night that a very important task that I handed off to someone last week (because they are more knowledgeable than me) got blown off, and therefore I have to deal with fallout and the hassle of putting it back on the front burner & I am pissed, but I don't have the energy to even complain to this person anymore even though I am his supervisor. The two main people I supervise are just great, wonderful, adept human beings who each have their individual quirks that makes being their supervisor a huge pain in the ass. It doesn't help that I am the type of manager who gives them a task, lets them know they can come to me for help, and then steps aside...while the other manager, bless her heart, is a complete control freak. And I can say that with total affection now, because after years and years of us working together (and me griping about here here and elsewhere for all that time) she has finally learned not to be as much of a control freak with me.

Urgh.

Plus, in spite of the fact that I feel like I accomplished a great deal over the weekend, I didn't finish painting like I had planned to, and there are still several things that need to get done in preparation for the arrival of Pansy & family.

So, anyway...sparseness around here for some amount of time as I put things back in order. I need to find a new rhythm for real now that it's cooler. I hope everyone is enjoying autumn. You can bet I'm running around, catching up, listening to music, playing, walking, sneezing, squinting up at the sun, drinking coffee, doing endless sudoko puzzles, teaching, learning, and living.

Rest in Peace, Rosa

October 24, 2005

WTOL-TV Toledo, OH: Rosa Parks Dead at 92

DETROIT -- One of the most famous icons of the civil rights movement has passed away. Rosa Parks died Monday evening at the age of 92.

Coley it's your birthday

October 24, 2005

Happy Birthday Coley!

Gratitude

October 23, 2005

Some things I am grateful for this week...In no particular order:

• That guitar riff in "Let the Bells Ring" by Nick Cave
• A long, luxurious, kidfree weekend
• Coley turning 5 (on Monday)!
• Puffs Plus with Aloe
• Cold Fronts (there is nothing worse than having a cold when it is hot outside)
• Peeling myself off of the futon at midnight to take a brisk walk with my dog, even though I felt like ass (I actually felt better afterwards)
• Susan
• Several years' worth of writing curriculum for 1/2 price

Kitty update

October 22, 2005

Well, a nice homeschooling lady and her daughter just came and took the kitty away. They were quite enamored of him, and I'm so glad that he's going to a home with children as he seems particularly fond of the wee ones.

When I came home from work today, before the people came to get him, he meowed me a hello and climbed up my leg. I was somewhat sad to see him go, but my sinuses will thank me for it tomorrow & I know he will be well-loved where he is.

I did manage to take some pictures of him before he went away, and I will try to post them later.

Yay, all around!

Coley's Birthday Mix

October 22, 2005

For those who attended the birthday party. It's marginally inappropriate for children, but...whatever. Most of the songs are Coley's personal favorites & I sort of riffed off of what I thought he would like for the rest:

1. They Might Be Giants - Birdhouse in Your Soul
2. The Handsome Family - The King Who Wouldn't Smile
3. The Decemberists - The Legionnaire's Lament
4. Tom Chapin - Gertie's Birdseed Diner
5. Sweet Honey In The Rock - Way Down Deep
6. JoAnn Castle - Tico Tico
7. Three Dog Night - Joy To the World
8. Sweet Honey In The Rock - Little Red Caboose
9. Spearhead - Wayfarin' Stranger
10. The Decemberists - Odalisque
11. Chumbawamba - Farewell to the Crown
12. Shonen Knife - Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head
13. The Decemberists - 16 Military Wives
14. Phil Rosenthal - Railroad Bill
15. Rasputina - Transylvanian Concubine
16. The Specials - Pressure Drop
17. The Decemberists - Mariner's Revenge Song
18. Spearhead - Thank You
19. Tom Chapin - Our Next-Door Neighbor, the Moon
20. Joanne Shenandoah - Oneida Iroquois Lullaby

The King Who Wouldn't Smile
By: The Handsome Family

there was a king who wouldn't smile
sat on the toilet reading The Trial
his dogs chased their tails 'round and 'round
midget cars arrived stuffed with clowns
who served him quail eggs on toast

like a fish at the bottom of a pail
like a cricket swallowed by a whale
like a chipmunk who chewed off his tail
the king who wouldn't smile

there was a king who never laughed
fell in love with two-headed calf
tattoed his arm with the ace of spades
filled his bath with razor blades
but the grass made fun of his shoes

like a fish at the bottom of a pail
like a cricket swallowed by a whale
like a chipmunk who chewed off his tail
the king who wouldn't smile

there was a king who cried and cried
mice crawled in his shoes to die
he cried so much that herds of deer
gathered to lick his salty tears
so the king crawled under his bed

like a fish at the bottom of a pail
like a cricket swallowed by a whale
like a chipmunk who chewed off his tail
the king who wouldn't smile

Fall Mix

October 21, 2005

Email me if you are interested:

1. KRS1 - Step into my world
2. Peter Tosh & Skatallites - Shame and Scandal
3. Madness - Mummy's Boy
4. Dog Faced Hermans - White Indians
5. The Donnas - Who Invited You
6. Air - J'ai Dormi Sous L'eau
7. The Decemberists - Leslie Ann Levine
8. The Handsome Family - Winnebago Skeletons
9. Cibo Matto - Sunday Part I
10. The Clash - Bankrobber
11. The Clash - Somebody Got Murdered
12. Camper Van Beethoven - She Divines Water (Live)
13. The Clash - I'm not Down
14. Tom Waits - Walking Spanish
15. Atom and His Package - If you Own the Washington Redskins, You're a Cock
16. Operation Ivy - Big City
17. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - Cannibal's Hymn
18. The Decemberists - Infanta
19. The Decemberists - Clementine
20. Cake - Never There
21. Minutemen - God Bows to Math
22. William S. Burroughs - A Thanksgiving Prayer

Clementine
By: The Decemberists

You slept in your overalls
After the wrecking ball
Bereft you of house and home
And left you with sweet fuck all

So we got in your car
With our kickabout hearts
And we hollered out Sweet Clementine

Tell your mom to marry us
Candles to carry us
With cans on our bicycle fenders
So sweet and hilarious

And we'll find us a home
Built of packaging foam
That will be there til after we die

And I'll play the clarinet
Use clamshells for castinets
We play with our bags on our shoulders
My sweet lady lioness

And I watch as you sleep
So indelibly deep
And I hum to you Sweet Clementine

Just when you thought I had shut up already about the Decemberists

October 21, 2005

Brooklyn Vegan has links to new songs performed live, and some live shows. I've already downloaded the songs & I'm actually considering downloading the live shows, too...but I have to install the software first.

I think the last time I was this obsessed about a band had to have been when I was in 8th grade. It was Howard Jones. I hope the Decemberists are happy that they have turned me, a mild-mannered mama (ha!), into a squealing fangirl. Jerks!

[you can thank zeebah (aka "the enabler") for this. I can quit any time. I swear.]

Friday Random Ten - Version "Consumerist Field Trip"

October 21, 2005

For this week's consumerist field trip, we are taking the bus to Savers to get Halloween stuff. But that has nothing whatsoever to do with this week'srandom ten (or so):

1. Nick Cave - Black Hair
2. The Decemberists - We Both Go Down Together (Certainly I am not the only one who notices the QUADRUPLE entendre in this song.)
3. Nick Cave - Loverman ("V is for virtue, so I ain't gonna hurt you, E is for even if you want me to.")
4. Tribe Called Quest - Stressed out
5. Camper Van Beethoven - One of These Days (live)
6. Dag Nasty - Safe
7. Stevie Wonder - Sir Duke
8. Electric Light Orchestra - Strange Magic
9. Bob Marley - I wanna Love you
10. Mr. Bungle - Pink Cigarette

Bonus Tracks:

• The Jesus and Mary Chain - Reverence
• Nirvana - All Apologies (little known fact: The cello player on this song is/was a friend of mine)

We Both Go Down Together
by: The Decemberists

Here on these cliffs of Dover
So high, you can't see over
And while your head is spinning
Hold tight, it's just beginning

You come from parents wanton
A childhood rough and rotten
I come from wealth and beauty
Untouched by work or duty

And Oh, my love, my love
Oh, my love, my love
We both go down together

I found you, a tattooed tramp
A dirty daughter from the labor camp
I laid you down in the grass of a clearing
You wept, but your soul was willing

And oh, my love, my love
Oh, my love, my love
We both go down together

And my parents will never approve of this love
But I hold your hand

Meet me on my vast veranda
My sweet untouched Miranda
And while the seagulls are crying
We fall but our souls are flying

And oh, my love, my love
And oh, my love, my love
And oh, my love, oh my love
And oh, my love, my love
We both go down...
together

Monk Rocks.

October 21, 2005

I have been holding this in, blogwise, for about a week now...but I have told just about everyone I know in person. It's one of the most wonderful things I have experienced as a parent...

Monk avoided peer pressure for the first time that I know of a few weeks ago.

Well, not only that, but he displayed a tremendous amount of self-esteem and self-assurance in doing so. And I didn't even find out about it until a number of days after the fact.

This is how it went down. On Sunday, Monk and I were on a walk together, and Monk told me a story about what happened to him at the homeschool park day a couple of days before. I can't remember how the subject came up exactly, but basically what he told me was that one of the kids was trying to get him to keep a secret. Monk was told he could only be in some sort of special club if he promised not to tell anyone what they were doing...and then also do some sort of strange initiation ceremony that basically involved making an ass of himself for the amusement of the other kids.

This kid has done this before...and it's really too bad because I adore this kid's mom, and I think this kid is actually a pretty OK little guy when he's not trying to humiliate my son. Monk has this quality about him, though...he's got the nerd thing going on in full effect, and I think other kids think he's an easy target. But Monk has this OTHER thing going on where he seems impervious to meanness, so the machinations of nerd torturers are always foiled by Monk's obliviousness.

At any rate, Monk basically told the kid to get bent...but not so rudely. I think he said something like "I'm not going to do that," and the kid and his friends CHASED MONK AWAY (this part pissed me off a great deal, but didn't seem to affect Monk tremendously...it's a good thing I didn't see it, though, or I would have been doing some major chewing out, and might have alienated myself from the homeschool crowd more than I already feel like I am. (and, yes, I am fully aware of my propensity to feel alienated whether or not I actually am, so I am fully aware that I may not, in fact, be as alienated as I think I am.)

And the, did Monk come crying to me? No. Remember...I only heard about this on Sunday. What he did next was so ruling and kick ass and HEALTHY I am stunned and proud and delighted. Monk walked away from them (which...I mean, Monk has a tendency, too, to ignore meanness and then come right back for more, which ALWAYS makes me cringe as I flashback to years and years of me following L around trying to make him be nice to me...and I feel like I set a really bad example for Monk & that this quality of his is all my fault) and found another friend to play with and ended up having a really great time.

I have been giving Monk props about this all week long. When he first told me, I was all "Well, that kid was basically being a bully, and it's not worth it to try to be friends with him if he's going to act that way." Now, after having sat with it for a time, I'm telling Monk "You know what, kiddo - you are WAY TOO COOL for that kid." Monk responded to this yesterday by saying "Yeah. I bet that kid wishes he didn't have to act so mean to me...but he feels like he has to because he has a reputation to live up to."

So, I'm just terribly proud of his maturity and ability to not only avoid a situation that could have been at best humiliating to him and at worst...I don't even know. But also to recognize what drives the bully mentality in the first place and show empathy for none other than the bully himself.

I love that little guy. So much.

I just got a comment from "An Actual Mother"...

October 20, 2005

(which, I guess, implies that I'm a pseudo-mother)

& I thought about not even approving the comment, because I'm so fucking tired of the conversation, and her comment is more of the same, but I'm either a glutton for punishment or I feel like clarifying things further might help...so I'm going to fisk it...the ACTUAL mother's comments are plain text, your humble PSEUDO mother's comments are bold.

It's not society, it's you.

You know, I always suspected it was all about me, but felt maybe it was self-centered to state it outright. See, you are starting off on the wrong foot and doing what you accuse me of doing later on in the comment. What you neglected to pick up from the comments is that I'm not even really talking about ME or MY KIDS. I'm talking about how society treats kids and mothers in general, and how that treatment affects, well, women.

Just the simple fact that you sought child rearing advice from a 8 year old signifies that there’s something wrong with your just how much sense you DON'T have as a parent.......

Just the fact that you actually think I was looking to my 8-year old for actual advice rather than a quotable quote signifies that you are severely humor-impaired. You should keep that handicap in mind as you read my blog and, in particular, this post. I'm a smart-ass...and I say smart-ass things. If you don't have a sense of humor, it will probably piss you off. Just a warning. And, actually, the fact that you feel you can judge how much sense I have as a parent by reading something I wrote on my blog signifies quite a lot. Proves my ENTIRE point, actually. Just as the person who judges my overall parenting ability by the five minutes I might lose control of my four-year old in a grocery store has no fucking clue what kind of parent I am in general OR what kind of kid my four-year old is in general.

and this is coming from someone who is a parent of an extremely well behaved 12 year old, who learned early on what is appropriate and inappropriate at a very young age. Incidentally, she is neither restrained or oppressed, fearful or nervous. In fact, she is respectful, well mannered and because she was expected to handle herself appropriately at a young age she is also empathetic and is able to take responsibility for her actions now. She is one of many perfect examples of why a parent needs to concentrate on their jobs as parents early on rather than making excuses.

You missed the part (more likely, intentionally ignored) where I talked about my "extremely well-behaved" 8 year old. I guess it's not convenient to acknowledge that kids have, like, different temperaments and stuff. And that a mama of two children might be dealing with opposite ends of the spectrum. Which certainly MUST prove that it's all about the mama, right? Because it's probably my fault that my younger child seems predisposed to misbehave and my 8 year old...doesn't. Ask my ex-husband. He'll tell you it's All. My. Fault. Too. You can both suck my left one.

& by the way, just because my four year old seems to have more boundless energy and propensity to cause difficulty does not in any way mean that he's not empathic or that I'm not concentrating or that, as you ridiculously accuse later, he will end up in prison. It means he is a more energetic kid than his big brother. He has a different temperament.

& also by the way, I'm using my kids merely as examples of extremes. I do that a lot. I'm a writer and I rely on metaphor and, occasionaly, hyperbole. What I have learned in my lifetime is that I CAN'T JUDGE other people based on the brief moments of time I am in their presence. You just don't have enough information when you are in line at the grocery store and you are holding your nose up about the way a child is behaving. I'm actually thankful to my four year old for teaching me that lesson. It's a hard lesson to learn, but it's a UNIVERSAL lesson. Which, in case you are wondering, means that it applies to more than just parenting. It also applies to dealing with anonymous commentors on my blog. For instance, you might actually be a really intelligent, fun, interesting person, in spite of the fact that this comment makes you appear to be an utter ass. Don't worry too much about it, though. I'm sure I appear to be an ass in many different contexts in my life. It's part of being human, I guess.

I read a lot of your commentary on this topic in the last couple of days and have to say that most of the time you never really acknowledge what people of different opinion say to you.

Mostly because it's not an "opinion" thing...it's an actual reality thing. I can listen to people give me their opininion about how they think I should be keeping my child under control all day, but that doesn't solve the inherent difficulties of my reality and, by extrapolation, the realities of a lot of parents out there with spirited children.

When they give you examples of why you should attempt to handle your child or remove them from the environment until they are age appropriate or get their behavior under control, you still go back to putting limitations on your child. In actuality, your child is probably more adaptable and can do more than you can give him/her credit for and because of all of your announcements that “they can’t help it” serves for nothing else but a lesson on how they are supposed to make excuses for themselves later on.

Here you go again. Where did I EVER say I DON'T put limitations on my children. I certainly have standards for my children, and I certainly expect them to live up to those standards. You also have standards. When I am in a public space, I make some compromises, but I simply can't expect things of my children that are not developmentally appropriate FOR MY CHILD. Nor can anyone else. I would love to see how you respond to someone with Tourette's! Or someone who has a disability that causes them to drool! Ew! I hate drool! STOP DROOLING!

See, once again you, like many people in the thread, are trying to assert your opinion about how things should be over my (and other parents') reality. Had you read as closely as you claim to have read, you would have observed that I had the same kneejerk reactions when I was raising my mellow, "well-behaved" son. I assumed that *I* had something to do with that behavior & I thought certainly the other moms out there were just crappy at their job. But, like a republican facing an endictment, I had to have my haughtiness shoved in my face to realize the error of my ways. Thankfully, unlike a republican facing an endictment, I took the lessons of my 4-year old to heart and stopped being all superior about my parenting and worked REALLY HARD (because I think in our competitive society, judgment is encouraged) to be empathic to other parents struggling with behavior issues in public.

& by the way, how fucking elitist is it for ANYONE to insist that I not take my child to the fucking GROCERY STORE until I have a handle on his behavior. What the fuck? Did you read that I am a single parent? That I'm skating on the edge of the poverty line? That I barely have time in the day to reel off stupid blog posts like this in my attempt to save the world from judgmental assholes, much less somehow manage to sneak out in the middle of the night so I don't have to expose you to my unruly child in the fucking grocery store? How much does that shit REEK of unrecognized privilege.

How can I say that? Think about it. You are the one that’s supposed to be the teacher, the trainer, one of the main people that your child depends on to acclimate them to the world. You are the one that’s suppose to help integrate them into society by making sure that they understand proper behavior and how to act in public. We're here to make sure our little ones adapt to society around them. To learn to make sound decisions that aren't always selfish and indulging. To know that it’s not “All about them and what they want”. They should learn what's appropriate and what's not and that requires self restraint at an age when they are more pliable and able to be influenced.

Gee, I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THAT. Thanks for the ADMONISHMENT! Now I think I'll go and be one of those THOUGHTFUL parents, rather than the parent I am today, who NEVER thinks about ANYTHING. Which would explain why half of this fucking blog is full of posts about my THOUGHTS on parenting.

I'm sorry, "actual mom" - I disagree with your assertion that children are pliable. Mine aren't. They just aren't. That's my reality. It differs from yours. What do you want me to do about that? Do I have to agree with you for you to feel like I'm listening? I get that you have an easy, pliable, sweet, fun child. I'm sure she is just great! Congrats! I mean that! I don't disagree that's possible, and I don't think you necessarily had to beat her into submission to be that way. HOWEVER, in order for me to force my younger child to behave the way your daughter behaves, there would have to be some serious beatings involved.

It's funny. We have this kitten, and the kitten likes to attack feet. To a certain extent, you can train the kitten not to attack feet...but to a certain extent, in the meantime, there's going to be some foot-attacking going on. My 4 year old is beginning to grasp this concept. Maybe he's more intelligent than "actual mother" is.

Here are some things my children are: intelligent, sweet, gentle, loud, pensive, playful, obnoxious, independent, fearful, brave, wonderful, really fucking annoying, achingly loving...I could go on and on. You are telling me that I'm not doing my job & I couldn't disagree with you more. I have two beautiful, wonderful, sensitive, kind and generous boys. That fact doesn't change because they occasionally run away from me in the grocery store and maybe bump into someone or spill something. Or make inappropriate noises or talk about their penises when we are in public. I like to think people give ME the same credit I give my children...even when *I* talk about penises in public.

Society isn't asking you to do anything that you didn’t sign onto do, asking you for something that is unreasonable, limiting your child or making it harder for you to “be the best parent you can be”. You’re doing a fine job of that yourself. Everytime you everyone to just understand when your child is misbehaving or to conform to your child’s behavior instead of the other way around you are NOT preparing them for society but doing them a disservice. I think you mean well and want to make it easier for your child but in the end parents like you are the ones who have children who, because you allowed them to fall out on the floor in the grocery store because "they can't help it" will soon have to deal with them doing other crazy things that required self control on a higher level later on. Situations that usually involve bail money and coroners. Think about it.

The last time my child fell out on the grocery store was, in fact, yesterday. Actually, he just stood there. Almost everyone who saw him just laughed. I was irritated, but what could I do? Do you advocate that I spank him into submission? That I stay at home and WILL the dog and cat food to come to ME?

The more comments I get on this subject that insist that I not ask society to accommodate my "horrible awful children" the more I am convinced it's NOT my children, but the immaturity of those who request/demand consisten adult behavior from children. AND the more I see that people really totally feel that parenting is some sort of cakewalk. It's all part of the sexism inherent in devaluing child-rearing. Everyone is INSISTENT on this weird idea that children just COMPLY, and that the problem lies with me (or whatever other parent is charged with the care of an obstreporous child) when the reality is that parenting is REALLY FUCKING HARD. I love it. I love the challenge. I love that I get to work through these issues with my kids and guide them towards appropriateness. What I can do without is the sanctimonious bullshit that "actual mothers" like this commenter blow towards me like so much second-hand smoke.

And I hate it not just because it's counter-productive to me. I have a pretty thick skin, and this conversation is helping me to make it thicker. I hate it because I KNOW there are mamas out there who sense that judgment and over-react to behaviors (to the point of spanking or using other potentially harmful parenting techniques (how often have I used bribery to avoid the look of sanctimony?!)) that are perfectly within the realm of normal for their child. I hate it because what is ultimately being demanded is that mothers force their CHILDREN to conform to the rules of the adult world to a ridiculous degree to accommodate immature adults who refuse to accept that CHILDREN (in ALL of their glory) are a part of our society, too. If you condemn the children, you get the double whammy of condemning young people AND their mamas.

It's all about the patriarchy, baby. I blame the patriarchy. I blame the patriarchy for your snooty condescension, as well. Ain't no thang, "actual mother"(fucker). You are just playing the role. I'll just pay for my groceries and be on my way.

Roller Coaster of Kitty

October 20, 2005

Well, it appears we are not going to keep the kitty after all. Coley is allergic, and he also keeps getting freaked out when the kitty attacks him (in the usual kitty way.)

I'll probably sit the kids down for a kitty discussion tomorrow, and if Coley decides that he does not want the kitty, I will find a home for him this weekend. Better we find out now & take care of it quickly. I am sure I can find a home for him quickly because he's so cute & even though he does attack Coley, he's pretty mellow as far as kitties go.

While I'm on the subject of the pets, the dogs have been living outside ever since the weather became bearable, and it has made my life so much more peaceful. I go out there and play with them every once in awhile, and they seem pretty content, although Bailey is at this very moment looking for means of escape - I can see her out of my office window. Gah. That dog!

Res Publica Skewers Kos

October 20, 2005

I just had to link this up and quote this part that made me laugh out loud. Loudly:

Dear Reader, let me introduce you to my little friend. No, not that little friend! This is Straw Man. He also goes by the name “Old School Activist”. He “harkens” [bwahahahaha!] back to the 60’s and 70’s, when he damaged his mind with Reefer Madness and lots of acid. His ideas are ideologically pure, but have no application in the world beyond his herbal tea cup, and could never make any difference at the policy level.

He has the unique characteristic of being completely two-dimensional, because he’s a cardboard cutout. He was educated in an economy that did not yet value “proactiveness” (because bullshit pseudo-words like “proactiveness” would not be invented until the 1980’s), so he earns his keep in his commune by spinning macramé plant-hangers out of his own armpit-hair. Some Moonie told him to do this circa 1967, and he just kept on doing it, because he lacks self-initiative can only knows how to do what he’s told (and if you’re thinking “Hey, what’s ‘self-initiative’? Isn’t initiative naturally attributed to the subject taking it?’, then you probably live with Straw Man in his stinking Hippie commune and should just shut your commie piehole). Even more sadly, he has failed to keep pace changing tastes in plant-hanging technology and the declining macrame market because he also lacks the ability to solve problems. What’s that you say? You learned in school that problem-solving is a distinctive characteristic of the species homo sapiens, and to a lesser degree, the other higher primates? You must have gone to one of those shitty public schools.

If you’d had a voucher, you’d know that problem-solving was invented in 1991, right before the invention of “inconcievable” tools that allowed New School Activist to instantaneously know everything about anything at all times and in any place, causing him to evolve beyond crude flesh to become a being of pure light and energy. This blinding overbeing is composed of pure thought, and has no need for your pitiful “leaders” or “media” to tell him what’s “right”. Nor has he any need for your primitive “spelling”. His consciousness transverses the universe at the speed of thought, for he has uploaded himself to t3h 1nt3rn3tz!!1!

Poor, poor Old School Activist. See how shabby and shoddy (and frankly a little thick around the middle) he looks next to svelte, shiny New School Activist’s carbon-composite cyberbody. Oh wait. Where is New School Activist? Since no major social policy change has been driven by activism since the 1960’s, no one is really sure. Maybe he’s off raking in the cash at some tech company, but you can be pretty darn sure he still knows everything about everything, all the time!! And one of these days, he just might decide to do something! You never can tell with these crazy kids today.

What a great analysis.

[link courtesy of pandagon]

I have a question.

October 19, 2005

Why is it so FUCKING hot?

UBS: Us & Them

October 19, 2005

More diversifyification | Prometheus 6

On Tuesday, October 18, 2005, three African American former employees of UBS Financial Services, Inc. (“UBSFS”), filed a class action lawsuit against the company in the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York alleging racial discrimination in hiring, promotion and other employment practices. The lawsuit was filed on behalf of all African Americans who were, are, or will be employed, or who sought employment at UBSFS, as brokers, non-broker officers, and other professional positions. The lawsuit seeks to put an end to years of racial discrimination at UBSFS. Information concerning the lawsuit can be obtained at www.ubsfsdiscrimination.com.

Normally, I associate the word "carnival" with the smell of vomit and cotton candy.

October 19, 2005

So I much prefer the carnival of feminists:

Welcome! to the first Carnival of Feminists. In this show there are no captive animals or "freak" displays, but plenty of passion, lots of fun, and more than the odd bit of juggling of life.

This headline sort of made me giggle.

October 19, 2005

Chomsky is Voted World's Top Public Intellectual

Chomsky is Voted World's Top Public Intellectual Missing from list: young, women, and the French Honour leaves linguistics professor underwhelmed

I know it shouldn't have...but it did. Maybe it's the use of the word "underwhelmed"...perhaps it's the juxtaposition of "young" "women" and "THE French."

UK's work and Families Bill: Paid Paternity Leave

October 19, 2005

BBC NEWS | UK | UK Politics | Paid leave plans for new fathers

The Work and Families Bill extends paid maternity leave from six months to nine months, but fathers rather than mothers could take the last three months.

Well, at least our friends in the UK are beginning to get the right idea. I'm curious if single mamas get the full 9 months to themselves, though? Shouldn't families have the right to choose how that time is divided?

Auto Pilot

October 19, 2005

Nightmares and Dreams: The Auto in American Life

Stanford suggests that if we are serious about our health, we would price auto use to reflect its full social costs and perhaps even consider a more radical step. We should make all public transit free: “We already ask transit riders to “pay”: infrequent service, crowds, longer commutes. Their actions benefit us all; they shouldn’t have to pay again at the token booth.”

But currently we lack the will to legislate such options. Worse still, even with gas taxes that reflect the real cost of the auto and full transit funding, the transition would be slow. Autos and public transit are not simply interchangeable commodities. They also represent and express different understandings of human freedom and the good life. Despite its deficiencies and inconveniences, the private auto still represents a sense of individual autonomy, the ability to travel where and when we wish in ever more luxurious comfort.

Donations Needed for Abortion Clinics

October 19, 2005

Media Girl links to an article with heartbreaking stories about women who are in need of abortions, but are having trouble getting them due to demand surpassing funding capacity in the wake of Katrina.

Suggestions for donations are included in the post.

This one is for Monk, who is barfy today.

October 19, 2005

BBC NEWS | Science/Nature | 'Zombie worms' found off Sweden

Adrian Glover and Thomas Dahlgren tell the journal the new species has been named Osedax mucofloris, which literally means "bone-eating snot-flower".

The evil and indecent booby strikes again!

October 18, 2005

CBC New Brunswick - Irving news pulls breastfeeding cover, fires editor

The Irving newspaper group has pulled the latest issue of Here magazine from store shelves and fired its editor after a photo of a breastfeeding baby appeared on its cover.

The photo is an extreme close-up of a tiny baby suckling at its mother's breast. The cover promoted a story about World Breastfeeding Week, which began Oct. 1. The story also highlighted the low rates of breastfeeding in New Brunswick.

Only in Amer...wait! That was fucking Canada?! What the fuck, eh?

[link via Dominion Paper]

Arjet's still on

October 18, 2005

While I'm talking about kittens and Pansies, Mr. Arjet examines chickenhawks and POWs:

So, there's McCain, and he could have taken the "Listen you prissy Liberals, I was in the fucking Hanoi Hilton so don't come whining to me about some ragheads in "stress positions" line, but he didn't. No, he took the "Listen you pathetic Chickenhawks, I was in the fucking Hanoi Hilton so don't even fucking start telling me that you know the first goddamn thing about torture because the closest thing to torture that any of you have ever endured was when you thought you might actually be expected to serve in the National Guard instead of simply listing it on your paperwork" line.

[Well, OK, he didn't exactly say that or anything, but he could have. And if the Neo-con chickenhawks had a shred of humilty, they'd hear that. But then, we know they don't. ]

A Peaceful Day

October 18, 2005

Peaceful Day in Iraq

The soldiers and the Marine were all killed by IEDs. There exists such a thing as an IED jammer. For $47,000/vehicle, our children can be saved from most of the IED attacks. The Pentagon has decided that $47,000 is too much to spend to keep our children alive!!! Halliburton steals that much from the Pentagon before the CEO's first cup of morning coffee. For the two vehicles that were destroyed and the 6 of our children killed, it comes to a little over $15,000 per person. Not to be crass, but the government will be handing each family a check for $100, 000.00 soon (the deaths are still "pending") and $400,000.00 in insurance death benefits. I know each family would mortgage their homes, or sell their souls, if they knew it would have cost $15,000.00 to keep their precious family member alive.

Kitty Olympics

October 18, 2005

The kids were just in the other room squealing and laughing and beckoning for me to come in. I walked in to investigate & discovered that what is happening is that the kitty is hiding between two baskets of clothes and jumping out to pounce on them when they run by...then promptly re-hiding between the baskets in hopes the children will run past again.

It's a regular kitty hootenanny here.

God, I am such a sucker. Did I mention I'm totally allergic to cats. My eyes are all puffy and I'm sniffing. It's totally my fault. I don't actually get allergic unless I HOLD the kitty. But, I ask you...who can resist holding a kitty?

Pansy Kicks Ass

October 17, 2005

So, I figure from now on, I will only blog about the Decemberists, and/or Pansy. Would that be OK with everyone?

Seriously, though...I didn't mention that this weekend Pansy and Clay did what I thought could never be done. They cleaned my fucking garage. At one point, we were all standing in the garage, with the huge pile of trash outside and the floor clearly visible, and one of them - either Pansy or Clay - said "I never thought I would see the floor!" and I replied "I seriously never thought I would see the ceiling again."

Yes, it was THAT BAD. Worse. All sorts of disgusting surprises back there. I'm not even going to go into detail except to encourage you to think of the most nightmarish things you can think of finding in a garage that your ex-husband was supposed to clean out over 2 years ago...a garage in which your children were encouraged to play. I would shudder, but I'm all out of shudders.

At any rate...Pansy and Clay continue to kick ass. I'm so glad the yard sale was fruitful for them, and that Ms. P sold some artwork on Sunday.

The birthday party went well, too. After David roundly trounced Monk in chess (and I was so impressed with Monk's grace in losing, as well as David's unrelenting and uncondescending rapport.) I cleaned the house and put the finishing touches on my quadruple chocolate cake masterpiece. Folks, I was totally impressed with myself. Once again, laziness reigned supreme, so rather than icing the cake smoothly, I just coated the icing with crushed chocolate cream oreos and let it set in the fridge after drizzling more icing on the top. It looked absolutely Martha! I guess it was a little lopsided, and maybe the cake was more crummy than moist, but it tasted yummy and Coley was thrilled.

I was so exhausted by the time everyone left, and was elated that my friend Megan offered to take Coley home with her for a bit so I could get some rest. I totally took advantage of a nice nap while Monk played with Coley's new toys. And then I rescued a kitten and then we went to pick up Coley.

But back to Pansy kicking ass. I came home today, after a long day and having not done a tremendous amount of clean up after the party...the kids were all playing with the kitty* and the house was significantly cleaner than it was when I left. Pansy was all "Oh, I felt sort of lazy today, so I didn't get around to bathing the dog. But I did manage to patch your wall, re-cover the futon, and fold all of your clothes for you."

I told her she was fired.

Well, OK, allegedly MONK folded the clothes, but she taught him how.

*This would be the same cat that I INSIST no one name, and yet...um...do you guys prefer "eli" (as in Eli, the Barrow Boy) or Melville (as in, our other cat is Poe.)

Which is to say (and don't you dare tell my kids this) that cat isn't going anywhere unless we find an owner AND get a nice reward. Happy Birthday, Coley.

Sunday Morning

October 17, 2005

Burning Door reminded me about our Sunday morning yesterday. We were graced with the presence of dear itinerantMr. Rowland. He joined us for pumpkin pancakes, challenged Monk to a game of chess, and discussed issues of racism and segregation with me before the children performed "The Mariner's Revenge Song" for him. I can't tell if David was as amused by the song as we are, but he did point out that the music tells the story as much as the words do. And he's right, as is burning door in the above linked post:

I often feel that The Decemberists have become so associated with there esoteric and literary lyrics that many have overlooked what talented musicians they are. See them once live and you will never overlook that fact.

and this post proves that you can give me any excuse, any at all, to talk about the Decemberists, and I will indeed take you up on it.

Owning your bullshit - and calling it out.

October 17, 2005

I want to applaud Mike Wise forliving up to his name. I appreciate the way he cops to his bullshit, and then ever-so-articulately brings up the issue of Native American sports mascots.

[Link via Miz Geek]

I'm actually worried about the kitty...

October 17, 2005

she/he/it seems very lethargic and way too mellow for a small creature. I did see her/him play a bit this morning, but mostly s/he just lays there in the sun. I know laziness is inherent in adult cats, but this is a tiny kitten. I'm going to bring it to the vet post-haste & make sure she's OK.

Isn't there a rule, though, that once you pay a vet bill for an animal, you can't give it away?

Man. I am already attached to this damn cat. Kitty fund paypal donations are welcome.

We are NOT keeping this cat.

October 16, 2005

I was innocently updating the blog this afternoon, when I started hearing plaintive mews from outside my office window. I instantly flew into "kitten in distress" rescue mode and ran outside to find a tiny grey kitty mewling in the middle of the road.

She/he (I never can tell with kittens) was coated with some sort of smelly wet goop, and was clearly looking for someone. It's difficult to tell how s/he got there, as s/he doesn't appear to belong to any of the neighbors in the near vicinity. There's a chance s/he escaped from someone at the park. There's also a chance s/he was tossed from a passing car.

However, she is one of the most mellow kittens I have ever met. She is not the least bit skittish or afraid of us, and she deals well with the rough handling Coley has been doling out. I told the boys we are going to put up signs around the neighborhood in an attempt to locate her owner who is no doubt very, very sad that she is missing and that they are CAT-SITTING for the time being. We gave her a bath and fluffed her up with a towel.

Right now, she's laying in bed between Monk and Cole, sound asleep. The boys, also asleep, each have one arm draped over her. Someone needs to keep reminding me that I already have too many pets, and that it would be a totally stupid idea to keep this cat, even if she did arrive immediately after Coley's birthday party and would make a perfect birthday gift.

For now, I'm going to have to just keep on reminding myself. And hope that she does something really annoying in the next few days so it will be easier to let her go when we do find either her owners or a new home for her.

Um...does anyone in Austin want a cute grey and white kitty?

Along the same lines as that last post...

October 16, 2005

I did a google search for McGreevy's+Glenview and found this . How cool!

The Pit of Punkness.

October 16, 2005

So, as it turns out, one of my arch enemies is not actually an arch enemy. Which is a relief, although I feel it does diminish my infamy to a degree. The good, however, does outweigh the bad (as it almost always does) and Ms. Lunchbox was kind enough to grant me an account on her site which includes a photo album filled to bursting with pictures of punk rockers from the Chicagoland area circa mid-late eighties. Which was a time in my life that I fondly, fondly remember.

The first thing I thought of while thumbing through the images was how young they all looked. These kids I hung out with at various intervals - most of whom I mostly knew by hairstyle as opposed to name - were just kids. They all look surprisingly unintimidating. I have the urge to pinch cheeks. Mere babes.

& I stumbled across the photo of a boy named Mike King, who I used to have a huge crush on. All of my dendrites were straining to remember my brief moments of contact with him. Did he call me or did I call him? Was it a mutual crush? If so, why didn't we ever hang out? It started to make my head hurt after awhile, but it was nice to see a photo of him, and remember sweet things.

It was an awesome time, a cool scene, and wonderful, wonderful people. I'm so thankful to Misha for gathering the photographs. I might have to look through my albums and see if there are any that I can contribute to the cause. And if you lived in Chicago or suburbs around that era (1986-1991 are my main points of interest) and hung out at McGreevy's (or was it McGreevey's?) or Durty Nellies or McGregor's or any of the Clubs in Chicago proper like Medusa's or...gosh, where else was there? Exit? Wrigleyside? Any of those places...do get in touch. I would love to hear how our stories match up. Or don't. At one point, I made a list of people from that era that I was looking for...I just might do that again in the near future to see if I can snag any reunions with long-lost friends. It's always nice to see what people have done with their lives.

The Beagle (a rant)

October 15, 2005

The gate came open today, and both dogs escaped. Basically, lately the beagle has decided that once she is out, that is it. She has decided that even if I am calling to her, she does not need to return. She has decided that if she is within arm's reach, she can turn tail and run. And she does.

But the boxer was out with her, and I actually give a shit about the boxer (again, I am sorry to say it, but when a dog runs from me as if I have beaten her whenever she digs, chews, or bashes her way under, around, or through the fence (and if you think I am kidding, I can show you the hole that stubborn brat chewed in the gate) I can only HOPE she doesn't return) so we got in the car and went on a search mission.

We found them harrassing some folks and their dogs. The beagle was in the middle of the street, barking. The boxer immediately came back to the van and hopped in. The beagle ran down the street, away from me. Barking. I drove after her. Stopped, got out. She ran. I drove (I had the kids with me, and even if I didn't - she is much, much faster than I am in a footrace and, like, no way I am going to run down the street chasing after the most stubborn fucking dog on the face of the planet) stopped...got out. She ran. She did this all the way home. At one point, some guy tried to catch her. Couldn't do it. She ran to the house and made like she was going to the porch. We all got out of the van, and she fucking took off barking down the road.

Seriously. That dog. I don't know. I know that everyone I know is sick of hearing me complain about her. They are all like "find her a new home!" or even "What if we 'accidentally' lose her in a forest somewhere?" But she is Monk's dog & it would destroy him to lose her. But she's won. I mean, there's nothing I can do to keep her in the yard (Clay has some good ideas, but it's like we have to build a fortress out there) & now when she gets out, she only comes back when she's damn good and ready (Which, granted, is usually within 30 minutes or so. At that point, she usually lets herself IN through the same hole she let herself OUT of and, if the back door is open, waltzes right back into the house - looking for water and a place to crash. She's like the reincarnated soul of all of the drug addicts I have ever known!)

I hate beagles as much as I hate Earthlink. Never again. Never, ever NEVER everevernever EVER ever again will I EVER take a beagle into my home. I realize now that it was a mistake to get rid of the boston. The boston at least had some redeeming characteristics. He was cute and bug-eyed and he didn't perpetually smell like someone's ass. I am totally tempted to just give up and never let that damn dog into the house again.

OK, I feel a LITTLE better now. I need to go bake a cake and clean up my house in preparation for Coley's b-day party. I've plugged up the hole in the fence (again) and when that damn dog comes back, I'm escorting her to the yard where she can stay until I'm damn good and ready to let her into the house (or until she finds a new way to escape which, really...it's only a matter of time.

Damn fucking stubborn ass dog.

The Politics of Hurt Feelings

October 14, 2005

I feel like I need to go back and pick up the pieces a bit from the Mommy Wars debacle. Because I've had some space to think about it, and some perspective with other events in my life that have added depth to my feelings about it. Not that anyone who was involved is still reading, but this is important shit for me to get out. And it's not even on the topic of babies or mothers or anything. It's on the topic of "hurt feelings" and "apologies on demand."

I guess to give context to this, I should say that I broke up with my boyfriend last night. It's honestly no big deal to me; it's something that has been needing to happen for awhile, and I'm glad that I was able to do it without hard feelings between us. I'm not sure that I want to go into the reasons necessarily, except that it's sucky that I had to do it when he was going through some hard times...but I feel like the way he was dealing with his hard times was not healthy for me or for the children. And more than that. I discovered that I've been "making do" in my relationship with him for some time now. Settling for what I knew was less than he could offer. It was weird that I found my voice to tell him this only AFTER I had decided that this time I needed to break up with him for real. Like I told him, I have been trained to "settle" "accept" and "make do" & that's not helpful to anyone. Part of me feels like I shouldn't need to be demanding things of people all of the time - that people should just be allowed to realize their own worth and potential and, damnit, live up to it. However, I know this is not always the case with me. I enjoy being challenged - even when it hurts my feelings - it's important for me to know when someone expects more from me than what I am offering.

And I am sensitive. Exquisitely sensitive. As are most of us. And my feelings get hurt. Regularly. Which is where the whole mommy war debate comes into my current mindframe. It seems during the process of that debate, in the midst of me expressing my truth, I hurt the feelings of one or more people. These people felt so hurt by something that they perceived I was saying in a tone they perceived (which, after having read over the conversations several times, simply was not reality on my part - a point which I expressed many different times in many different ways) that they wanted to derail the conversation to focus on their hurt rather than the topic. Ironically, the topic was how women, in general, are hurt by unrealistic expectations. And my feelings were hurt, too. It was a raw, painful discussion. The problem is that we are all so much in the habit of forcing people to apologize, often at the expense of the issue at hand. There was one point that someone I considered a friend accused me (or so I felt) of being insincere about my feelings about the importance of community. I had to stop talking for a bit, examine why that hurt, figure out if it was actually true, and after I had taken the time to validate myself step back into the conversation to speak my truth.

The thing is that we are all trained to except things. We are all trained to settle. We are all trained to be taken aback when someone demands that you examine something unpleasant that they see in you. When we feel like we need to carry around hurt feelings based on a conversation rather than examine why they are hurt and either confront themselves or confront the other person about those hurt feelings (and accept when and if the other person might just say "I'm not sorry. I was only speaking my truth. I didn't INTEND to hurt your feelings, but your hurt feelings are not going to cause me to stop speaking my truth.") it's counterproductive. And it's sad.

I'm pretty sure I lost a friend in that argument. I want to email her and explain myself (again) but I don't think I have anything new to add & I'm not sure that I'm in the mood to convince someone that I meant no harm. I feel like I'm a very gentle person. I truly believe that people are inherently good. However, I feel like I've spent too much of my life silencing myself at the risk of pissing people off, and I have had precious little room in my life to speak my truth without having to compromise to someone else's feelings, misconceptions, or misinterpretations. I tend to assume the same of other people, as well. At least I hope that I do. It's something that I'm definitely going to pay attention to, moving forward.

I hate earthlink.

October 14, 2005

I am so tired of the frequent random disconnects, the crappy canned customer service, and, this morning, the 3 hours without email access and no explaination of it on their website and then the 50 gazillion levels of filtering on the customer service phone line.

I am so totally ready to switch service providers, even though I'm totally in love with my vintage "mindspring" email address. I've already finagled a free month of service from earthlink due to the fact that they DELETED my old "oyster publications" website...I'm hoping after this morning's fiasco they will just let me out of my stupid contract early so I can totally be free from their utter incompetence for once and for all.

Earthlink sucks.

Friday Random Ten - Version: Just broke up with my girlfriend

October 14, 2005

Linking up Jill's list this time:

1. The Smoking Popes - Just Broke up with my Girlfriend
2. Violent Femmes "Give me the Car"
3. A Tribe Called Quest - Da Booty
4. The Clash - Tommy Gun
5. REM - Drive
6. They Might Be Giants - Hello Radio
7. Rites of Spring - By Design
8. Erykah Badu - Love of My Life
9. X-Ray Spex - Germ Free Adolescents
10. Pixies - Head On (Jesus and Mary Chain Cover)

bonus Track:

• Jets to Brazil - Sleep
  

"By Design"
By Rites of Spring

Time heals all wounds they say
But the self inflicted won't just fade away
And in these shifting tides of blame
why are you suprised to see your name? It's such a drag
Time got the best of you
Things you gave you say were taken
Explaination piled over excuse

And so the story goes
But by your own design
And if you look to me to find you
Then my eyes will pass right though

Believe me I had wished
We could have avoided this
Please dont ask me to explain
All the things that caused your pain
I only want you to realize
Passivity equals compliance
Let it slip right through your hands
Become the victims of other's demands

And so the story goes
But by your own design
And if you look to me to find you
Then my eyes will pass right though
Pass right through

Lake Geneva

October 14, 2005

By: The Handsome Family

You are crouched before the fire in a state park by the highway and through the heavy pine trees ten-ton trucks go groaning by. Like the screams of your Aunt Barbara who went crazy in the '70's, wrote poems to Jimmy Carter but forgot to feed her kids. But, it's the first time you're together since he got out of the hospital. Raccoons in the darkness drag off your hot dogs buns. But, you're happy just to lie there in a plastic tent from Wal-Mart like sticks and fallen dead leaves to feed the fire of the world. Because which is more important, to comfort an old woman or see visions of the heavens in the stumps of fallen trees? Albert Einstein trembled when he saw that time was water, seeping through the rafters to put out this burning world. Next morning you're at Waffle House. Toast and eggs and hash browns. Truckers chain-smoke Camels over plastic cups of juice. And you remember how he cried when they strapped him to the stretcher, convinced his arms were burning with electricity from heaven. You remember how he told you that black holes were like Jesus. And the crucifix was a battery that filled the air with fire.

Save/Share/Spend

October 13, 2005

Julee posted about dividing allowances in thirds & I was so smitten with the picture of the moneybox she posted that I googled Moonjar to find a treasure trove of really cool money management tools for kids.

Thanks, Julee!

It's shaping up to be a good weekend...

October 13, 2005

Tomorrow, field trip with the kiddos, then movie night.

Saturday, yard sale & birthday party prep. (well, plus work.)

Sunday, breakfast with the most endearing Mr. Rowland and birthday party afternoon.

Plus, two surprises in the mail today which will significantly alleviate a great deal of my stress:

1. This book, sent from an anonymous well-wisher. If you are out there in blog land, thank you. It's a very thoughtful gift. & on reflection, I feel so incredibly fortunate that there are so many thoughtful people in my life that I have absolutely no clue as to who might have sent it.
2. A child support check for both September and October, which will allow me to actually get the kids a pinata and some party favors (I always give out mix CDs to the party-goers, so blank CDs!)

The Ideal Female Candidate.

October 13, 2005

Creek Running North: Bush drops Miers, taps Sidore for Supreme Court

Initial response by conservatives to the nomination verged on jubilant. "I believe that this nominee may be the ideal female Supreme Court nominee," said fundamentalist activist James Dobson. "I was willing to gamble that Ms. Miers would listen to the concerns of people of faith, but this candidate is clearly the better listener."

I love it when people are clever enough to turn the words of others around to expose the idiocy behind them.

[link via (and inspired by) Ms. Manda]

Chavez boots the Evangelicals

October 13, 2005

BBC NEWS | Americas | Chavez moves against US preachers

Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez has said he is about to expel a US missionary group, New Tribes Mission.

The leftist leader said the missionaries were "imperialists" and he felt "ashamed" at their presence in indigenous areas of Venezuela.

He accused the Florida-based group of making unauthorised flights and setting up luxurious camps amid poverty.

Front porch

October 12, 2005

This evening, Pansy was telling me that she was going to put a new cover on my futon, and that I was just going to have to deal with it because it would make her feel more at home. She's so sensitive to my...weirdness...because she quickly added that if I didn't want her to do it, I could just let her know.

And it's not that. No. It's not that at all. I love that they are helping. I do. But it's HARD to let people help me. There are these feelings I have. Feelings, I guess, of inadequacy. I told her that it weirds me out a little, but it was MY shit that was getting in the way, not anything SHE or CLAY are doing. That I appreciate what they are doing, but that it's HARD for me to accept it. But, then, I have to tell myself she's doing it because she wants to, and without judgment. That's what I have to tell myself. Over and over again. No judgment, mutuality, respect, kindness. She even threw my own word back in my face. "Lainie," she said "it's all about INTERDEPENDENCE. Remember?"

I laughed and called her a bitch. hahahaha.

Sometimes I just have to close my eyes and accept what happens. This is one of those times. I'm not sure why it's so hard, but I know it has nothing to do with anything logical or real.

Anyway, the front porch was one of the first things that Pansy worked her magic on. I sat in my rocking chair out there tonight, eating my dinner, petting my cat, watching cars go by and listening to music. After a day of harried running about. Harried problem-solving. Harried moments of clarity. Harried "getting stuff done" it felt so nice. I'm glad for the change of seasons. It's nice to be outside.

I haven't processed or talked about the earthquakes in India/Pakistan. I don't even think I've talked about it with the children. There's stuff going on in their world right now that I'm concerned about. Stuff that I have been in denial over...stuff that I'm not even sure I can do anything about directly. It makes the world seem at the same time quite overly large, and way too small to contain us. I'm suspending emotion for the time being. Until further notice.

It happened again...

October 12, 2005

I was scanning the headlines & I saw "Liberians await election results" - and once again I misread and puzzled over an independent state of reference clerks.

& then, ironically enough, I received notice of this public hearing.

It just occurred to me

October 11, 2005

While I was making peanut butter (and jelly) sandwiches in preparation for our busy morning/early afternoon tomorrow. There is no fucking way the EARL of sandwich had anything to do with inventing his sandwich. It had to have been a mama. Perhaps not even HIS mama. But I'm pretty sure SOME mama SOMEWHERE is responsible for the invention of the sandwich.

Pansy Eye

October 11, 2005

I came home from work today to find shelves! and paint touchups! and smaller dog cage! and various rearrangement!

Somehow, it seems like this arrangement with Pansy and her Hubby is severely weighted in my direction. I mean...Clay's, like, threatening to fix my fence.

Threatening.

Somehow having the paint job touched up in my kitchen makes everything seem way less chaotic. I spent the morning on the phone with various financial and legal entities in an attempt to facilitate both GETTING money that is owed to me and NOT LOSING property that I owe for. And then I went to work, and spent the afternoon doing some emergency prep for a class that my boss was supposed to teach tomorrow that it looks like I will be teaching in her stead. In the middle of my scurrying, I had to stop and think to myself "It's a wonder I have ANY personality at all." Tomorrow won't be much better. I have to get up first thing in the morning and somehow get 4 surly children out of the house so I can teach above-mentioned class.

So, yeah, suffice to say that it was nice to come home and see the rearrangement, although I do have twinges of feelings of inferiority whenever Pansy and Clay clearly demonstrate their superior powers of home management. It's that silly "pride" thing - where I can fully recognize that I am clearly doing all that I am capable of doing, and fully understand that the systems that I have for balancing my work/home/entertainment are uniquely designed to match my limitations...but still feel somehow like I'm not doing enough. Pansy and Clay are sort of showing me the immense privilege that comes from having a wife...AND a husband. I only wish this house was large enough to contain us all more long-term.

Statistical Information about Crime and Race

October 11, 2005

I'm so glad someone was able to pull together the statistics about race and crime and make the point that Bill Bennet's comments were not egregious because they called for hypothetical genocide, but rather that they wrongfully forwarded the notion that African Americans are a criminal race:

The better question for public debate is this: do the actual government statistics bear out the claim that Blacks contribute disproportionately to the crime rate? Or is this largely a stereotype, which is driven by the disproportionate rate of ARRESTS and CONVICTIONS of Black people? And does the over-focus on Black crime conceal an alarmingly high crime rate within the white population?

Read the entire thing & if you can stomach the unabashed racism in the comments, read them, too.

In reading the comments, the paradox is clear: the problem with anyone pointing out that racial disparities exist in crime rates due to institutional racism is that institutional racism enables people to discount the idea that racial disparities exist. And it goes on and on.

[link via P6]

Stunned

October 11, 2005

It seems like I've been using the word STUNNED a lot lately. I'm afraid I'm creating a picture of me walking around with my head vibrating. Or, perhaps, I'm hoping to create that picture.

Either way, I need to at least find a good word that is synonymous with "stunned," any suggestions?

(my favorite on these lists are: buffaloed and flabbergasted...but so many of the synonyms from the thesaurus imply that being stunned is somehow a negative thing. I don't really see it that way.)

Talking about socialism...on the clock.

October 11, 2005

I had some interesting conversations at work yesterday. I don't work in the office much, and I'm always stunned by the culture of my workplace when I do. Mostly in a good way. Yesterday was one of those good days. Had a talk with one officemate about corporate v. non-profit office politics, another with someone about a series of unfortunate events, a brief confab about credit cards...& just as I was setting about to get some work done, another co-worker came in to talk with me about a paper he is writing about education.

The non-profit I work for deals with both public school and adult workforce development. There's a schism there between the two main branches (actually lots of schisms...although I truly appreciate those I work with who work in the public school sector, I'm just not there enough to know much about what they do) but I'm thankful that I work with people who are so involved in at least attempting to help reform or improve the public school system. The research paper that this workmate is writing includes suggestions and recommendations for reforming public schools, and on occasion this workmate will come to me to discuss educational theory & politics. I reminded him of John Holt, and turned him on to John Taylor Gatto and Grace Llewellyn.

Yesterday, we were discussing this paper, and talking about what a hero John Holt has been to each of us, when the conversation turned to Mr. Gatto. My workmate was telling me that he was really impressed with Gatto's Against School essay & I told him "yeah, but the problem with citing Gatto is you have to deal with the fact that people will point out that he is a socialist and use that as an excuse to discount his ideas." (not that I agree with that practice, but that's essentially what happens whenever you try to present the views of the radical to the mainstream.)

My workmate was aghast that Gatto was a socialist. I said "Well, I'm not sure if he actually CALLS HIMSELF a socialist, but he very much appears to be sympathetic to socialism." And I did a quick google search of "John Taylor Gatto" and socialism and netted a bunch of results that pointed out the obvious socialist leanings of his views.

This got us on the tack of discussing socialism v. capitalism. I guess I had put my workmate in the precarious and uncomfortable position of feeling forced to have to defend capitalism to me. He was teetering towards calling Gatto's "Dumbing Us Down" conspiracy-theoristy. I was telling him that it's not that the dumbing down of our nation's children is a conspiracy so much as it is the necessity by design of capitalism. We can't have too many smarty-pantses running around feeling entitled to the wealth of the few, most/all of whom don't deserve it. The fact is the competition and scarcity, which to me seem to be essential to capitalism, serve to destroy community and commonwealth, which I feel are the cornerstones to more socialist systems.

And I talked to him about the interview with Vonnegut on Now (can you believe he had never heard of NOW?!) - and about tribalism, "farting around", and industrialization/nuclear families. We also discussed the inherent goodness of people. He disagreed with my view of inherent goodness, instead, he feels that people need to be trained to act civilized, which is why social programs are so important. I told him I felt that we would be much better off if we could form small, self-governing communities of people. He pointed out that communities have a tendency to be suspicious of "that community over the hill." Fair enough, I thought...but is that viewing things through the lens of competition and scarcity?

It was a great conversation. & I was so glad that I could spend some of my work day engaged and challenged by someone who didn't exactly agree with everything I said, but had a similar enough viewpoint to feel like we were communicating, rather than trying to persuade. It's one of the many reasons I love working where I work.

What we do.

October 10, 2005

I can't stop thinking about it.

I was driving, and about to turn on the little road that runs past the mall. And, suddenly, there's an SUV bouncing over the median and running right into the streetlamp on the side of the road. It was surreal enough to see - the fucking thing seemed to come out of nowhere. I was far enough away to observe it without fear, but close enough to be startled by it.

As I was wondering..."What the..." a woman stumbled out of the driver's side door. The front of the truck had rammed into the streetlamp, causing the hood to crumple and the lamp to fall over the top of the vehicle. Grey smoke was coming out from under the hood. I know cars don't generally explode, but I was concerned that it might at least catch on fire. I turned down the road to make sure she was going to be OK. It appeared that several other people who were closer to her than me had the same idea. The woman stumbed out & it was unclear whether she was drunk before she ran her car into a streetlamp or whether the impact had made her woozy, but she was clearly stumbling. She walked to the back of the truck and grabbed the top of the streetlight and attempted to pull it off of the vehicle and re-right it, holding her hand to the side of the truck to steady herself.

It was such a bizarre activity for her to engage in. Just...trying to right something that had been wronged. Making sense of the situation. The order of importance was jarring. And the strangely congruous incongruity of that small act is still vivid in my mind, and has played itself out all day. Perhaps because as I watched I was thinking about live wires - worried. Not sure how to stop her from attempting to create order in that situation, but concerned that the attempt to do so would cause still more trouble.

Flood of Emotion

October 10, 2005

pw: philadelphia weekly online

"There are certain images of cruelty," says Blockson, "that are burned into your brain forever."

Emmett Till's beaten and broken body lying in a casket.

Police officers beating Rodney King on a Los Angeles street.

Now there's Katrina, and the family waving their arms from their rooftop, the man staring quietly from his attic window, the thousands wading through chest-high water.

"Untreated wounds make the body sick," says Francis. "And our legacy of race and racism is an open wound in our society that we haven't treated, and that can only lead to a deterioration of the body. And by the body, I mean our country. Some people don't like going to the doctor, but that doesn't make the wound go away."

[via negrophile]

Because I am cranky

October 10, 2005

5 things I am not grateful for. Not one bit:

• The annoying motorcycle guy (dude, you live THREE HOUSES from the stopsign. There is really NO NEED to get your bike up to 72.5 mph between the stop sign and your house, especially considering the volume of the rev that is the result of this unnecessary acceleration. I would really like for you to move.)
• Monk's dog (she sneaks under the fence, and once she's out, she's gone. If I witness her escape and call to her, she just keeps running. Never in my life have I lived with an animal I have despised more than this dog. I feel bad about it, but it's true. She is irredeemably irritating.)
• My ex (really. Enough said.)
• The person who thought it would be a good idea to shriek something at me from their car window as I was out walking the dog late last night.
• Too much work to do, too little time.

I have one thing to say.

October 9, 2005

Between the finalizing of the divorce and this other court matter I am finding myself embroiled in, I have about had my fill of court/lawyer-eze. Did I once say I was considering law school as an option for the future? For-fucking-get it. I need metaphor! I need approximation! I need language that does not choke on itself and gasp, stifled by its cumbersome exactitude!

Did I say just one thing? I lied. Here's my weekend recap:

Cleaned, typed, painted, slept, worked, ate, danced, cooked, watched, read, worked out, slept, read, shoed (the biggest, clunkiest black shoes I could find at Savers - 6 bux! I'm so butch!) coffeed, chatted, (had a lovely time, by the way.) sang, cleaned, shopped (weekly grocery bill under 60 bux! I fucking rock!) worked, puzzled, rearranged, listened, read, & now, here I am.

I found this...

October 9, 2005

Shoe Size - Penis Size Conversion Charts

I swear I was just looking for shoe size conversion charts.

Hahaha.

Can someone explain Ashlee Simpson to me?

October 8, 2005

Is it that I'm supposed to feel sorry for her because she can't write a song, can't carry a tune, doesn't appear to have any talent at all, and yet still manages to make a living as a musician?

And the chorus of her little song that she says she wrote after her last Saturday Night Live experience totally rips off that song by, I think, Jewel...that "Who will save your soul" song - which is not actually even that good itself.

The fact that I even know who Ashlee Simpson is...pisses me off.

A little something I'm cooking up tonight.

October 8, 2005

Full Bellies Recipe Blog: October 2005 Archives

This is a lot like the previously posted "apocalypse asparagus pasta" dish. Only less punk rock, and only vaguely apocalyptic.

Painting around obstacles

October 8, 2005

DIY Goddesses: Painting around obstacles

I think it was Pansy who said it first, but our motto is "If necessity is the mother of invention, laziness is its father."

Navel Gazing (or relationships, isolation, community, and sex)

October 8, 2005

I just realized something important about who I am and what I need. Perhaps it's a result of the Kurt Vonnegut interview on Now last night, where he stated point-blank that the purpose of life is "farting around" and that people need to form gangs (because the end of the world (as we know it) is coming, and the nuclear family is a shitty way to prepare for this cataclysm...instead we need extended families either of blood or invention.

Listen, I know that might sound a bit kooky. David Brancaccio (swooooon) had that sort of bored look of condescenscion on his face throughout the interview (which, admittedly, he almost always has. He's such a damn journalist. Sometimes, though, that bored look of condescenscion really works for him...so I'm not going to complain too bitterly about it)...but I think Mr. Vonnegut is correct. And even if he isn't...wouldn't it be fun to be in a gang? Certainly more fun than the isolation of every day life. And by isolation, I don't mean absolutely alone, but ostensibly stranded on the island of family.

It occurred to me this morning that I wasn't always so isolated, and I wondered what it was that changed it. I have lived my entire life as a quiet observer of others, and there were several years there where I was starved for that. When were those years?

Fuck, I think to myself. My abusive relationship with L strikes again - and takes on another angle. It all started with L. And I hate to blame L for all of my problems, but holy fuck, it's true that from the beginning of my relationship with him, my close friends were, one by one, alienated. He would tell me they weren't good enough for me. That I shouldn't be cleaning up after them. That I shouldn't be picking them up when they didn't have rides. To top it off, he picked a fight with one of them that almost came to blows & that was the end of that - I knew where my loyalties lie. Besides, I was pregnant.

OK, so I don't want to go into the boring play-by-play of my life with L. But this explains a lot. It explains a lot of my unnamed frustration and jealousy in my relationship with him. It names a lot of my dissatisfaction. It exacerbated the already acute feelings of isolation I carry with me just by virtue of being me. And, yes, it can be argued that it, at times, turned me into a jealous bitch. By the time we had had Monk, I was the band mom...not in a good way. The other band members would come by and drop their kid off for me to watch while they all practiced. I was never asked. I was never invited to hang out with them. I was the chick in the other room with the kids. My role was made to expand to suit them, without thought of the sacrifice. I never realized how painful that was to me...to have people crawling all over my house but feel like I could not observe and participate. I always just thought I was being unnecessarily bitter, and inappropriately bitchy. Now I realize I wasn't bitter and bitchy ENOUGH. Fuck me and my damn inability to take a fucking stand.

One day, a different band, Monk was asleep and I joined L and the other guy in the back room after practice. I sat in the circle with them, but outside of their reality. I felt good, though. I was cracking jokes & the other guy was laughing. I watched their interactions - L's and this guy. I loved it when they were together because they were like brothers, from what little I observed. L, too, was always isolated from people due to his own self-imposed barriers. I used to love it so when he was with people who allowed him to let his guard down. He was always such a beautiful person when he let his guard down. It was rare, but it was incredible to observe.

So, I'm back there cracking wise and being open to life and love and feeling really good about things. And then the other guy left & L turned...and turned to me and accused me, raspily, of hitting on his friend. He accused me of being obvious and easy and embarrassing. He said his friend was just being polite by including me in the banter, but that I had made him so uncomfortable.

And I shrank. It was so easy to make me shrink then. It's easy to make someone shrink when that someone is not sure what it is that makes them big again. I shrank, visibly, it seemed. I am pretty sure I walked out of the room in silence. There were probably tears. Why would I hit on L's friend? At that point, I was still so totally in love with L that there would have been no point. I was just dying to be included, not only in L's life...but in life in general.

That's what I realized this morning. Maude, for the first time! How stupid am I? All of those years of hearing verbally and non-verbally about all of the sacrifices that L made when we had a child together, I never had time to think about what I sacrificed. Working full-time so many hours out of the day that I barely had time to see my baby, much less my husband, much, much less any sort of observable community. I sacrificed the things that made me who I am. And there was no room in the relationship to give voice to that.

I will say one thing, though. When I had community - I didn't recognize it for what it was. I certainly didn't appreciate it. We were just people out having fun. I had no idea that it was significant. So I never really fought for it. I just dutifully played the role I felt I was meant to play, as mother and provider and, now, abused and meek spouse.

And I can't blame L entirely. Before I met him, I had wandered around disconnected for some time. Isolation in the form of a move to Lubbock Texas, after so much trauma in Chicago. But at least at that point in my life I had the zine, I had friends via letters, I had long-distance community.

And I can't say it ended with L, either. In the midst of refinding a joyous community among the rubble of my confidence, I stumbled into another relationship which, unbeknownst to me at the time, was a pretty trap. And I realized that no matter how much freedom you are given in a relationship, if the other person in the relationship prefers isolation, isolation will rule the relationship, for me anyway, to a frustrating degree. Because participation in a lively community is not something one can do without one's partner. In fact, the very heart of my feelings of isolation is my need to share the beauty and joy of the world with everyone I know. That's sort of difficult to do when the person you are attempting to share it with sees no beauty or joy in community. And it's almost impossible to do when that person would rather stay in and watch a movie and have sex than do anything remotely life-affirming. Granted, sex can be incredibly life-affirming, but only to a point. After awhile, even the sex can be isolating. If you think about it (and I'll get to this later) sex can be the most isolating act of all.

So I woke up this morning with all of these realizations. Now what am I going to do about it? Well, for one, I'm in a self-imposed semi-isolation period these next few weeks - preparing for Pansy and her family to move in here. There is much to do and much to think about that requires me being here without much outside interaction & that's fine. In the month of November, the kids will be at their dad's house a lot (every weekend) and that will be my time to go out among people. The hard part is my nature. I am terribly shy. My friendships tend to grow, amoeba-like, out of themselves. In fact, I'm thinking about 2 or 3 of my closest friends in Austin, and they are people I met through other people. But even if I'm sitting by myself somewhere, I'm out and I'm observing, and that's what I like to do best of all.

I really think the key for me right now is to not get involved romantically with anyone. For whatever reason, this tends to make me feel more isolated. I was actually delighted to hear a gay priest interviewed on Fresh Air put this theory I have to words. He was talking about the reasons for celibacy. How being celibate enables him to love more people more fully. That's a very rote summary of what he said, but I find it to be true in my life. Sex complicates things for me. It was partially because of my insistence on not having sex when I was younger that I formed some of my closest relationships. I don't think I will ever be able to recreate the exact atmosphere in which those relationships were formed & I don't think I can (nor do I desire) to live without sex for the rest of my life...but I think it would be better for me if I just excluded it for a bit and allowed myself to fall in love with everything and everyone. No strings attached.

Let's Panic Later
The Ex

It's in your face, you gotta go
but don't do things that would make me cry
if you feel an urge, have a go
but I don't wanna hear your reasons why
all I see is your face
is the shape of things that tears replace
it's in your face you gotta go
just don't do things tht would make you cry

It's a ratrace go go go
every step meand a bigger wall
there's no u-turn signs ahead
for to rise thou shalt not fall

You're way beyond the 9-5
you thought you had a life?
well, you've had your 1 sec rest
it seems you passed the test

Which clock to beat is next
there's another phone to catch
time flies in a traffic jam
giving way to a dead end stretch

Don't stop if you want it all
be deaf for the burn-out call
but there's more that to live a lie
take breat, make room to sigh

Everything is getting faster
is it going anywhere...

It's a fastlane life
once you live it like a car
one day you're running out of gas
well, did it get you very far...

It's the age of aging
it's the age of aging
I'm not afraid of age and
not afraid of aging

And the carousel's cruising for another ride
guess who sits upfront, it's mr. make-it-mine
he puts another dime in your slotmachine
bt the jackpot hits you,
it's not the other way round

Everything is going fast
is it going anywhere...

Slowly I realized that it dawned on me
the younger you are, the more you wanna be
but living it fast? a thing from the past
any kind of age has ways to set you free
But it's not greed, or sleek behaviour
just do your own thing, you can always panic later
don't get stuck in the rut of that human car
now maybe I am pushing it,
am I pushing it too far?

It's the age of aging
I'm not afraid of age, end.

Coley will be turning five in SEVENTEEN DAYS.

October 7, 2005

Should any of you who have been entertained by his Coleyness feel obliged to send a gift, I have updated the wishlist with gifts that his highness might enjoy. If you sort by priority, his stuff should rise mostly to the top.

Grey Day Reading

October 7, 2005

This is what I am reading on this grey day:

• Moby Dick by: Herman Melville
• Teach Your Own by: John Holt
• Blacklisted News Secret Histories From Chicago to 1984 by the New Yippie Book Collection
• Where the Sidewalk Ends - Shel Silverstein (whenever Coley demands it, although he CLAIMS he can read EVERYTHING now.)

Oh, and one more greyday album selection would be Dreams Less Sweet by Psychic TV.

Monk is reading Bruce Coville's Book of Nightmares.
Cole is reading an old issue of PC Gamer magazine.

Top 10 Grey Weather Albums of All Time

October 7, 2005

I was just laying in bed, reminiscing about greydays in Chicago (like I promised myself I would) and I started mentally writing a list of the best grey day music out there...in album form (in no particular order):

• The Smiths - s/t
• The Smiths - Meat is Murder
• Bob Dylan - Hwy 61 Revisited
• Rasputina - Thanks for the Ether
• New Order - Low Life
• New Order - Movement
• Thelonious Monk - Anything with "Ruby My Dear" on it
• Billie Holliday - Anything with "Gloomy Sunday" and/or "I cover the Waterfront" on it
• Joy Division - Unknown Pleasures
• Nick Cave - From Her to Eternity

Ah, shit...2 more:

• Handsome Family - Milk & Scissors
• 63 Eyes - Look in for Mothmen

...make that another:

• Velvet Underground & Nico - (the one with the warhol cover)
  

&, oh geez, ANYTHING Johnny Cash.

You know, laying in bed all day listening to music doesn't sound half bad at this point. I'm breaking out the old cassette tapes and making my bed (with clean sheets and lavender) directly after I post this...that is until I pop upright with another silly idea for a blog post. I wish I could invite you all over for a dreary slumber party!

I can't figure out why I'm so sleepy today

October 7, 2005

I keep diving back in bed and under the covers. Maybe it's the weather. Maybe it's the fact that the kids were returned to me at 6 AM & I spent the morning with my sweet, kind, lovable attorney, finally putting this divorce thing to bed for good (the final paperwork filing kept getting delayed due to my inability to find a babysitter at a time when my dear attorney was also available to meet me at the courthouse, so I finally just brought the kids with me. The judge was so very sweet to me, too. She hurried us through the proceedings, and kept glancing over at my children and smiling to indicate to me that they were doing OK. Both my attorney and the judge told me they were behaving beautifully. Little did they know that Coley spent the entire time hitting and spitting on gentle Monk, who very obediently did not yell and scream but rather did his very most blessed best to silently avoid the strikes and salivations.) & then the kids and I had breakfast at Magnolia.

We were planning to take the bus down to the botanical gardens today for a field trip, but after I mapped out the bus route, I was overcome with sleepiness and laid down & fell asleep for about an hour. Now I'm up and trying to psyche myself up for a nice walk about the neighborhood, at least, to enjoy the lovely grey below-70-degree weather. Something. If nothing else, we will go to the playground after 3 when there is the possibility of the presence of neighborhood children that the boys can play with, because clearly their mother is incapable of building up any steam today. (To make up for this, I am currently making 2 steaming hot cups of cocoa for them, because my wimpy Texas boys think 67 degrees equates to HOT COCOA weather, as opposed to me, who thinks 67 degrees is HOLY MOTHERFUCK IT'S NO LONGER TOO FUCKING HOT OUTSIDE HOO-FUCKING-RAY weather.)

I wonder if this is one of those exhaustions that will magically disappear as soon as the children are spirited away by their father, or if it will malinger throughout the evening, leaving me here alone on a Friday night feeling dorky AND somewhat ill. & I wonder if I ought to take advantage of the fact that I am actually feeling ill, and call in sick to work tomorrow. & a part of me is remembering that dreadful illness I endured last year around this time and hoping I'm not readying myself for a repeat performance, because it would be ironic in its timing for reasons I won't go into here just yet.

At any rate. Sleepy me is going to haul her ass back to bed. I might just open the windows in my bedroom, put some Rasputina on the CD player, cuddle up under the covers and reminisce about all the neverending grey Chicago autumnwinterearlysprings I miraculously managed to survive.

Full Bleed: Confessions of a zine girl (take two)

October 7, 2005

(click to make it bigger)

Do you like it?

Friday Random unspecified number of tracks of music

October 7, 2005

Linking to Norbizness again this week. Because, you know, the Cramps!. I cannot figure out why I don't have any Cramps in my MP3 Library. I'm sure I have at least 2 CD's...the rest is on vinyl.

Anyway, here goes (sorry, no coolness audits here):

1. Moby - Across the Universe (w/Rufus Wainwright)
2. Decemberists - Bring on the Dancing Horses (live, Echo & the Bunnymen cover)
3. Pussy Galore - Cunt Tease (incorrectly labeled as Bikini Kill)
4. Old 97's - King of all the World
5. The Clash - Koka Kola
6. Billy Mure - Hawaiian War Chant
7. U2 - Mothers of the Disappeared
8. Violent Femmes - Add It Up
9. Spearhead - Oh My God (live? Unplugged?)
10. Public Enemy - Miuzi Weighs a Ton

Bonus Tracks:

1. Peter Tosh & Skatalites - Shame and Scandal
   
2. The Cure - Friday I'm in Love
   
3. The Jesus and Mary Chain - Inside Me
   
4. Janes Addiction - Jane Says
   

Damn, that's a good mix.

OK, I swear I'm going to stop talking about The Decemberists...

October 6, 2005

But first I wanted to link up my favorite interview, which contains my favorite quote by Meloy:

I ask Meloy how he feels about being a heartthrob. "I feel great about it! I would certainly rather be that to a bunch of English majors and drama fags than a bunch of sorority girls." He laughs. "It's one of our main m.o.'s to try to make the world safe for pansies."

I told my friend Pansy about this, and she was absolutely thrilled. The world very definitely needs to be safe for Pansies...of all types.

Wait, I actually think I need to write one more post about the Decemberists later this week or next. But I *swear* I will find a new band to obsess over...soon.

Any suggestions?

Addendum to the last post.

October 6, 2005

Do you know how freeing it is to exclaim "I am an artist!" All of these years I have refused to call myself a writer. "I write things," I tell people. Or, sometimes "Things write me." Or "It's a hobby." The root of that refusal is the fact that I don't get paid to be a writer. Damnit. I'm a writer. It's not a hobby, it's not what I do. It's WHO I am. It's not a living. It's my life.

The Artist's Life

October 6, 2005

(this essay is a work in progress. It essentially says what I want to say, but there is much that is missing or not conveyed precisely enough for my tastes. I'm sort of thinking this is my (expanded) manifesto - the short form of which exist in "live life love" and "I believe in the inherent goodness of all beings")

I've been thinking a lot lately about art & accessibility & my relationship (unrequited) to an artist's lifestyle.

I think this all started when, thanks to my dear friend Michael, I got my hands on a bunch of Smart Went Crazy/Beauty Pill music. I was fasinated by these bands in a way that I, a lifelong music lover, have never been conscious of being fascinated by music. Although I've been an independent music snob for more than half of my life, I"ve always been of the sort who makes frenetic and eclectic mixes of music and is addicted to SHUFFLE on the 51-disk changer. The only other bands I have had this kind of one-on-one relationship with have been Nick Cave, Camper Van Beethoven, and Spearhead (and now, of course, my beloveds, the Decemberists) - each of these band obsessions were sparked frm some form of coming of age for me. The difference was, with my obsession with Beauty Pill & Smart Went Crazy (and probably the Decemberists, too), I felt I had already come of age! The transitions in my life, though plentiful, were in stasis. The external factors weren't at play. The changes were all coming from within.

It was a subtle shift, but not easily ignorable. The difference in my appreciation for these bands was not directly related to how the music applied to my LIFE, but rather that their music existed at all. Here were two groups of people with no commercial aspirations (as far as I knew) who were creating art for, ostensibly, me.

I guess after having lived with artists and musicians over the past couple of decades, I was at last overcoming my bitterness towards the process of creating art. Having been the "other woman" to the muse far too much in my lifetime, I was competing against art & in this competition, I lost TWICE. First, obviously, because my artist lovers inevitably chose the muse over me & second because I was forgetting that I was, in fact, both artist and muse, myself.

What a wonderful discovery...re-discovery. I am an artist! I am not, however, a musician. So why the obsession with music over any other form of art.

Well, because music is the most accessible form of art. Musicians are able to come to you with their art, and if they can't, it is easy to reproduce the art without distorting it horrendously...in fact, in some cases, creating something totally different from the live presentation. I realized this with a jolt when I was at Raymond's house & he was sitting on his porch playing music while the children played all around him. Music is inclusive. It's (relatively) inexpensive & it's inclusive in all stages of production. The musician/artist invites you in - particularly when music is being performed by a band - the collectivism in action is stunning and wonderful. (& at the risk of being deemed a totally crazy-obsessive fan, I have been reading a lot of interviews with the Decemberists (most of which are basically Colin Meloy talking about his philosophy which, I assume, applies to the whole band, and I am delighted by his insistence that sing-along-ability is an important part of the music they create. I just love it when my favorite artists share my views on such Important Matters. Particularly when it seems to be true that their intentions have been fruitful, which is observably true - my 5 year old is singing "16 Military Wives" as I type this. Now THAT is accessibility. & amazingly enough, you don't have to dumb things down to make them accessible, but that is, perhaps, a whole other post. Like, perhaps we are trained to appreciate the dumbed down so our artists don't have to work so hard to entertain us...or something.)) So music is art & it's a welcoming inclusive and accessible art (after all, Franti was right when he said "Everyone Deserves Music.") Music is, I believe, inherently subversive (another post, another time).

And I am an artist who, no matter how much I would like to be, will most likely never be a musician. Where does that leave me?

Well, to frustration. But, think. If the issue is accessibility & expense & (a corollary to expense) time, what better way to create art than to make LIFE art. Which, ironically, is what I have been (subconsciously) doing for half of my life or more - initially with my zines & now with my blog. I can't afford the time to create epic novels & I don't have money for giant canvases on which to splash paint*, but I can live my life as fully as possible & feed it out in bits and pieces to anyone who is willing to listen.

That is the purpose of this blog, my art, and my life.

*I totally GET now, why home arts are a feminist act, by the way. Amanda...this is for you. Think about it...if women are relegated to certain practical duties, what better way to express their artistic natures than to meld the fundamental with the artistic. Again, the inherent subversity shines through. Like the overused cliche of the weed growing up through a crack in the sidewalk. Or shit fertilizing flowers.

Further, as I was discussing with the fabulous Suzanne of comments fame last night, if women do not get paid a decent salary for all of the thought, energy, and practice that goes into parenting, the least they can do is share the experience. Thus the mommy blog.

Dru Blood - the Book?

October 6, 2005

So, if I self-published a book of some of my favorite posts from this blog and other places...would anyone buy it?

I'm trying to figure out how to include "being an artist and writer" in my day to day life. It's not really a career that can sustain me, but perhaps it can help me get by?

I'm looking at posts like this and this, and thinking there's probably enough good writing scattered around this site to maybe make something interesting and relevant. Maybe.

Is it totally egotistical for me to even ask this? Or, is maybe being an egotist part of being an artist? Perhaps I need to be MORE of an egotist (maude help us all.)

Not Right and Left: Right And Wrong

October 6, 2005

War-Hawk Republicans and Anti-War Democrats: What's the Difference?

Finally, I was harrassed at the Capitol Building by a thug security guard who screamed at me to get out of the building until my next appointment. I complained to another security guard about the disrespectful treatment that I had received from the other guard and he said that most of the employees were "Republicans" and they didn't appreciate what I was doing. I have news for them: this is not about politics, to me, this is about flesh and blood. This is not about right and left, this is about right and wrong. 19 troops were needlessly killed in Iraq this past week. 19 families were destroyed senselessly and avoidably. Hundreds of innocent Iraqis were killed for just being home that day, just being out shopping, or just going about their daily lives. An average of almost three of our young men and women are killed everyday in George's abomination. While the War Hawk Repbublicans are wrongfully supporting a wrongheaded war and the "anti-war" Dems are hemming and hawing about the politics of this administration's misguided and evil policies, how many more families will get the news that their lives have been destroyed in the tragic meantime?

Egalia has the word on Rove

October 6, 2005

Tennessee Guerilla Women: Rumor: 22 Plame Indictments, Rove Too

Visualize Rove in leg shackles. Rumors are flying around Washington - and the internets - of 22 Plamegate indictments that could come as early as Thursday (today!) or Friday.

Are you feeling better now?

October 5, 2005

As a matter of fact, I am. Had a nice home from work night with my birdy boy. He watched Scooby Doo and drew pictures while his brother was whisked away for a sleepover in the country.

Things seem stark. It was hard pulling up to Pansy's driveway yesterday and seeing the For Sale sign. It was troublesome to receive emails today that indicated to me that my ex-husband is apparently veering maniacally away from our month-long spate of respectful pleasantries back into evil altar-personality territory (it's a familiar pattern, and it's always amazing to me how quickly I forget that I. Just. Can't. Trust. That. Man. It's most hard, because I feel like I. Should. Be. Able. To. Trust. Everyone.) The conversation with the client last night was, of course, disturbing. But all of that is amazingly curable by spending time with Birdy Cole and his dear ways. His "mama, I love you alllllllll the time."s. His big hugs and kisses. His sweet insistences. His silly little ways. He is an absolute darling, and I am without a doubt the luckiest mama on the face of the planet.

Plus, music.

Grace Cathedral Hill
The Decemberists
Grace Cathedral hill, all wrapped in the
bones of a setting sun, all dust and stone
and moribund. I paid twenty-five cents to
light a little white candle for New Year's
Day. I sat and watched it burn away then
turned and weaved through slow decay.
We were both a little hungry, so we went
to get a hotdog, down the Hyde St. Pier.
The light was slight and dissapeared.
The air, it stunk of fish and beer. We heard
a superman trumpet play the National
Anthem.

And the world may be long for you, but he'll
never belong to you. But on a motorbike, when
all the city lights blind your eyes tonight, are you
feeling better now?

Some way to greet the year: your eyes all
bright and brimmed with tears. The
pilgrims, pills and tourists here all sing
"Fifty-three bucks to buy a brand new halo."
I'm sweet on a green-eyed girl, all fiery
Irish clip and curl, all brine and piss and
vinegar. I paid twenty-five cents to light a little white candle.

And the world maybe be long for you, but he'll
never belong to you. But on a motorbike, when
all the city lights blind your eyes tonight, are you
feeling better now?

Safety Net

October 5, 2005

I'm feeling a bit...disconcerted? Off kilter? Melancholy? All of the above...today. I had a discussion with a client yesterday that blew me away, in spite of the fact that I typically feel inured to being blown away by our society's unwillingness to recognize the problem of poverty among hard-working individuals. But I think the reason it effected me so much yesterday is because as leaves fall from the trees, I get glimpses into the clearing of my future, and it can sometimes seem very bleak and stark.

Basically this client, a woman over 60 years of age, was describing a work environment that was just godawful. She has skills, but she can't find a job because she's "too old" - many people won't hire her. She's currently earning 8 dollars an hour doing assembly work, and can't afford to find a place to live on her own with that money, so she resides with her daughter. She hopes to make 10 dollars an hour soon.

I gotta say something here...10 dollars an hour does not get you much in Austin. This is a grown adult woman with skills and the ability to work, and her DREAM is to earn 10 dollars an hour so she can get an apartment of her own. Do you hear what I am telling you? God. It's fucking depressing. That's what it is.

And I guess I feel vulnerable. I am a woman who works hard and has marketable skills. I have no college education. I own a house that I cannot afford to pay for without a roommate and child support (which is evidently not a priority for the person who is supposed to be paying it.) And I can't sell without spending a good deal of time (that I don't have) and money (that I double don't have) fixing it up & even then I owe half of the profit (or more) to the person who used to live here with me (who is, ironically, the person who is supposed to be paying the child support.) There isn't much left after that, so I might as well stay. And I have no safety net. In times of turmoil with my family, I don't even feel like I have a family to fall back on if the shit hits the fan. However, even in the best of times, my family can't provide much of a financial safety net.

Normally, this doesn't bother me. I can't DO anything about it, so I ignore it. But when the leaves fall from the trees and I see the starkness of it...Hell yeah, it bothers me. It's easy to see why staying in a relationship that wasn't providing half of what I needed was appealing to me. And to extrapolate - it's really easy to see why so many people settle for situations that provide a modicum of stability in exchange for what little freedom and dignity they might have.

Monk needs about $1000 worth of dental work, as do I, I'm sure. I need new glasses. The dogs and cats need shots and flea treatment & I'm spending all of my money on food and bills and an occasional treat of music. I know I'll come through this somehow...but when the leaves are falling from the trees, it's difficult to look past that stark clearing & over the top of that next summit.

Sorry to be such a bummer.

Coley's quote of the day:

October 5, 2005

"suicide zombies are great!"

(in reference to a game he's invented called "Invasion Earth" where he has invaded the Spanish capital, and his "suicide zombies" are destroying the castle.)

More gushing about the Decemberists...

October 5, 2005

I'm only writing this because I feel the need to mitigate the creepiness of my obsession by exclaming that the children are far more obsessed with this band than I am. Coley woke up this morning, rubbed his eyes, and said "Mom, can we listen to the Decemberists' new CD in this room? Punk rock and songs about love help me to sleep."

Monk's big homeschool project this month and next will be to write interview questions for the band. I'm hoping they will reply & maybe we can get it published somewhere. He has lots of interesting little observations about the lyrics & I think he will come up with great interview questions. (He also wants to know if Lemony Snicket listens to the Decemberists...wouldn't it be cool for him to interview his favorite author AND his favorite band? Maybe we will make interviews a regular project.) Monk's new life goal is to become a video game reviewer (he went for President of the US to video gamER to video game reviewer all in the span of a few months) so I figure this is a good introduction to journalism for him.

A nice gentleman is sending Monk a postcard signed by the band. Monk's all aflutter.

The origins of things.

October 4, 2005

I relearned a valuable lesson today. There was a tearful moment at the breakfast table which resulted in several conversations and culminated in storytelling and discussion & during this entire process I was reminded of something that I stupidly forget over and over and over again & that is that it doesn't matter "who started it."

Because, really, the origins of things tend to run fairly deep, and when you unwind the twisted tangle of blame you ultimately end up where you started...which is usually inside of yourself.

Go figure.

I ended up reading The Mustard Seed, Followed by How The Grinch Stole Christmas

October 4, 2005

(The Grinch was Coley's request) & actually, it was amazing how well these two stories complimented each other. In the middle of the Grinch, I paused and asked the children if the Grinch was looking for a mustard seed when he raided the homes of Whoville. They laughed. I asked what the Grinch was feeling. L said "anger." I read on & M interrupted me and said "Maybe the Grinch is JEALOUS."

Mission accomplished. But even further...what is the Who's place in that jealousy? Where does that jealousy come from? Could it be that jealousy is not the root emotion, but exclusion is the cause? Could the Whos have done more to include the grinch in their celebration? How is the Grinch like the woman in the mustard seed? At the beginning of the Mustard Seed story, they talk briefly about the fact that the woman was disregarded by her community until she had the child - how did that affect her response to the death of the child? Was she excluded as well? How were they ultimately reunited with themselves and their community?

It's amazing how rich things get when you have a group of thoughtful and engaged children to hang out with. Monk wanted to know if maybe Dr. Seuss was a Buddhist. I said "You know, a lot of things that Buddhist stories relate are universal, so they are things that can be revealed and experienced and recounted whether you are a Buddhist or not. I guess in that way, we are all Buddhists."

Yay.

Suggestions, please?

October 4, 2005

Can anyone give me some resources for some good books (preferably myth or folk tales) that teach lessons about bragging, jealousy & empathy?

We're dealing with some stuff here that I think warrants a retreat to allegory and discussion.

While we are at it...disappointment and loss would be good things, too. I am reading the children my favorite Buddhist story called "The Mustard Seed" today, which is a beautiful tale about a woman who loses her child & can't get over her loss. The Buddha tells her that she need only bring him a mustard seed from a home in which no one has experienced loss & her son will be brought back to her. In her search for such a seed, she discovers that there is no one who has not had to deal with grief and loss, and thus overcomes her own sorrow. It's such a wonderful & simple story that teaches so many lessons, not only about attachment and disappointment but also about the spirit and importance of community. It's all stuff we're dealing with a lot here in our little group, and some of the processing is getting a bit messy for the kiddos, I think.

Whatever you can suggest would be appreciated.

5 Answers to questions that were never asked

October 4, 2005

1. I am not now, nor have I ever been a housewife.
2. I do not have a college education, nor have I ever attended a university
3. My economic status is lower-middle class or upper-lower class
4. Actually, I quite like my "tone." (and if you don't, fuck you*!)
5. Why, yes, I *do* believe in the inherent goodness of all beings. Even you (asshat).

Thanks. I feel much better now.

*Because, pretty much, whenever anyone tells me they don't like my tone, all I can think to tell them is "fuck you." It's some sort of deeply imbedded reaction, most likely stemming from my distrust of (pseudo)authority figures.

Gratitude

October 3, 2005

I keep forgetting about my gratitude lists. Here are ten things I am grateful for right now:

1. Good musicians (Nick Cave & Decemberists are topping my list right now)
2. Mulligatawny (it's fucking delicious)
3. My kids' therapist
4. The Family Allison
5. Coffee with bloggers
6. cilantro (particularly that which is in the mulligatawny)
7. Musicians (again) (particularly those who can pull off writing operatic masterpieces about vengeance in the belly of a whale that totally make me laugh out loud out of sheer delight.)(As well as those who can write songs that sound almost Neil Diamondish, until you listen to the lyrics and hear the words "cannibal" and "abbatoir" and "orifice" (in reference to the orifice of Orpheus)and variations thereof.)
8. Monk's hyperactive dance to "The Sporting Life."
9. Coley's toy gun made entirely out of plastic marble run pieces.
10. Mileage reimbursement checks.

Escape from Consumerist Christmas

October 3, 2005

Redneck Mother wrote about the Plastic Christmas Toy Deathwatch at her house, and the possibility of ratcheting down Christmas to a 100 dollar holiday. & I figured I'd add some of my thoughts on our process of escaping the consumerestiest holiday of the year.

The first thing I did was change our holiday from Christmas to the change of seasons. As a non-Christian, this was pretty easy for me to do...and the kids didn't really care too much. They still get some gifts, but now the seasonal fairy/elf hides the gifts on the first day of every new season. Moreover, the seasonal fairy/elf usually gets used gifts & books & educational supplies more than toys. So now, rather than concentrating all of the gift giving on one holiday that has only marginal (at best) spiritual significance to our family, we spread the joy throughout the year. & hiding the presents allows the kids the element of surprise...they actually usually give up looking long before the last item is unearthed. Not only do we benefit this way, but we are also more in tune with the changing seasons, and the significance of those changes. As we've slowly weaned off of Christmas, I have been able to ratchet down the spending, little by little, without encountering any disappointment.

For Winter solstice, we also have begun a tradition of meeting friends for a walk around the spectacular light display on the houses on...er...34th street? I can't remember the street, but that street off of the northern part of the drag where everyone goes all out. It's much better, IMO, than the Zilker lights, and we generally are able to make a night of it by having hot chocolate at Wheatsville, meeting up with people, and then traipsing home to see if we can stay up & greet the sun after the longest night.

Potlucks are a great way to gather together and have great food without taking a huge hit.

& this is a work in progress for me, but I am trying to narrow down our toy retention to a few major categories. I posted this on Bark/Bite, as well...but around here the most popular toys are:

• Legos
• Lincoln Logs
• a box of poker chips (they use these for all sorts of things, including play money, stacking, pattern making, and ephemeral mosaic art...it's actually pretty amazing how many purposes poker chips serve around here...we even play a hockey game with them sometimes, sort of like air hockey only without the air)
• Wood Pattern Blocks
• Board games

I'm thinking about really really working on culling the remaining toy population & sticking with those basics. We do have a lot of stuff here, so it's not like I'm speaking from a position of "less plastic crappier than thou" or anything. I have started to require that the children give things away (and because I'm somewhat of a freak, I set the target as one thing for every year of their age) at the start of every season, as well.

Extended family gets homemade mix CDs & drawings from the kids & pictures of the family. When I have a little more money to spend, I'll probably send every family a book that we've enjoyed reading together over the year, or perhaps something created by an independent artist. Something that has meaning to me, personally, that I can share with them. I know that's backwards, and I'm supposed to buy people something that means something to THEM...but that's where things get spendy & if I can come up with 2-3 ideas of things that are not produced by big businesses, I can generally match up the family member with SOMETHING they would enjoy & I'm giving the gift of a treasure they might not have discovered on their own. I don't think I'll have enough money for that this year, though...so it's homemade mixes again. & this time I need to send them in boxes so they won't break.

I think that's about it. Any other ideas out there for cutting consumerism at Christmastime?

Someone's dreaming of a white christmas in New Orleans

October 3, 2005

HUD Chief Foresees a 'Whiter' Big Easy

A Bush Cabinet officer predicted this week that New Orleans likely will never again be a majority black city, and several black officials are outraged.

Alphonso R. Jackson, secretary of housing and urban development, during a visit with hurricane victims in Houston, said New Orleans would not reach its pre-Katrina population of "500,000 people for a long time," and "it's not going to be as black as it was for a long time, if ever again."

Mulligatawny.

October 2, 2005

Somehow, there's no better end to a weekend than Making Mulligatawny while listening to the weekends's quartet of CD's that have been spinning, over and over again - the CD's being Picaresque, Castaways and Cutouts, and Nick Cave's genius 2xCD - Abbatoir Blues/Lyre of Orpheus. No kids, just me & my soup & my music.

Gotta get chopping.

Speaking the Unspoken

October 2, 2005

Negrophile linked up This article about Bennett:

Is not William Bennett's final solution to the crime problem a logical - albeit cataclysmic - conclusion for those who consider African-Americans a criminal type? Much evidence suggests that this sentiment is held by a large if not majority segment to whom Bennett merely gave voice. Unlike Herr Bennett, however, most Americans will not slip and reveal themselves in conversation with strangers, and thus their deeply held opinions rarely show up in polls. So we must rely on anecdotes and the life experience of the black citizenry who are often suspiciously viewed - and treated - as criminals by their white brethren.

Which reminds me that I actually first heard about Bennett's little Hitlerian slip on, er, the Decemberists forum (OK, I'm a total fucking nerd. Sue me.) & someone (who I'm, perhaps wrongfully, assuming was a white male) responded to the reference by saying "It's not surprising that he THINKS those things, it's just surprising that he was dumb enough to SAY them."

Think about that for a moment, especially in the context of that article. Just. Think about it. Or don't. In fact, on second thought, maybe you shouldn't think about it at all.

Arch Enemies.

October 2, 2005

I spent a good deal of time last night dancing around my house & occasionally bursting into little giggles over the fact that I actually have Arch Enemies. Two that I know of in real life (one of whom totally hates me for completely unknown/unknowable reasons as I've never been close enough to her to have had a conversation with her, much less personally piss her off) and a couple scattered on the internets (one of whom has managed the impressive task of holding a grudge against me for a protracted argument about racism that happened, like, FOUR years ago, and to this day besmirches my good pseudonym whenever she feels like she might get some empathy from the pile on. Which, whatever. THEY'RE JUST WORDS. THEY ARE (NOT EVEN) TWO-DIMENSIONAL. YOU DON'T ACTUALLY KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH TO HATE ME.)

Anyhow, it totally makes me giggle because I'm actually just a big old self-deprecating nerd & while I secretly aspire to nerafiousness (er...rather, neFARiousness...or is it nefarity. Nefarism?), in reality if someone's going to dislike me its because I talk too much about stupid shit of no consequence & filled with self-reference rather than because I'm "rude" and "self-righteous" and "confrontational." Thankfully, I've learned that I can't control how people respond to what I say. I can only clarify when asked, and leave the rest up to the other person to decide...& generally if someone pisses me off, I eventually just shrug my shoulders & move on to the next experience.

Picaresque

October 2, 2005

If I ever meet Colin Meloy, I will tell him that, one time, I got to see the Smiths in concert (The Queen is Dead tour, Chicago, 1989(?) Aragon Ballroom)& I was upfront and I can't remember anything about the show because it was hot & stuffy & the girl in front of me was smoking & almost set my Aqua Net coated mane on fire & mostly because Mr. No-hips, no-butt himself was up on stage, shirtless, prancing and jumping about & all I had the wherewithal to think was "What the Hell is holding his pants up?"

And then I would invite him over for soup & maybe he'd tell me a story with lots of pirates and parapets, pachyderms and palanquins & just when I started to yawn and/or reach for the dictionary, thinking "God, WILL this guy every SHUT UP?" he'd relate a charming tale about falling on his face in a soccer match & suddenly I would realize that what all seemed like pretentious tripe now appears to be somehow simultaneously self-effacing, sincere, witty, fantastic altar-reality clothed in a wonderfully operatic spectacle that leaves me grinning widely* and wondering "What happens next?".

But since I will never meet Colin Meloy, I will listen to "On the Bus Mall" and remember the part of the smiths show that I missed - the MUSIC - and I will think to myself, if Meloy is this decade's answer to Morrissey (and I mean that in a good way) we are in much better shape than it might seem. & how nice it is that there are still earnest musicians out there who pull off tremendous performances that would put Morrissey to shame & give me something (other than questioning the laws of gravity as applied to denim on a seemingly friction/obstacle-free surface - I mean, seriously...he HAD to have had, like SAFETY PINS or something holding those pants up...) to think about (and smile about). & I will listen to "Eli the Barrow Boy" and consider the fact that the Decemberists could very well be the Lemony Snicket of Indie bands. & I will listen to "Engine Driver" and wonder over pages and pages of fictions. & of course, I will listen to the "Mariners Revenge Song" and be simply overcome with delight.

& though I'm tempted to use big words to describe the most polysyllabic-word laden record in the history of the universe, I'll refrain.

This shit rocks.

*I truly believe the Decemberists are one of the funniest bands ever. I mean, "meet me on my vast veranda, my sweet untouched miranda?"..."I'm a legionnaire, camel in disrepair, hoping for a frigidaire to come passing by?" the entirity of "The Sporting Life" - come ON, that's funny shit! It's way funnier than anything They Might Be Giants have come up with & the kids actually seem to like The Decemberists more, too because, like Lemony Snicket, they don't condescend in the name of humor and wit.

More Family Stuff

October 1, 2005

So, I guess my dad survived his quadruple bypass surgery. I called my mom last night to tell her about it & got the requisite guilt trip about not calling him. I responded by telling her that I'm just not strong enough to go there right now. I mean, the last time I spoke with my father, he was threatening to kill himself (to get attention) because he was so depressed*. I, myself, was recovering from a nearly decade-long depression brought on by the suicide of a close friend, and everyone seemed to want to hurl their own suicidal thoughts in my direction. This kind of thing is only marginally acceptable when it comes from friends, but when your fucking FATHER does it...it's just too fucking much.

So I stopped talking to him. I took a stand. And I was rewarded for my stand by being called a selfish bitch by my father, who also said he hoped my children didn't grow up to be as selfish as me...and he sent me some coupons for film developing so he could get pictures of his grandchild (there was only one at the time...I'm not even sure if he knows there's another.)

In all this time, 7 years or so, he has not made any effort to regain contact with me. I've been building strength in hopes that one day I will feel like I can include him in my life without it totally fucking me up - but according to my sister he is no better now than he was then. And considering my emotional fragility, having just recently finalized a divorce with a man who used very familiar tactics in his attempts to control and belittle me, I just. can't. go. there. And I won't. I don't give a fuck what anyone else in my family thinks.

In spite of the fact that on some level I KNOW it will hurt to lose my dad, I need to be healthy and whole for my children. Comparing it with my relationship to L, there was a certain point where, in spite of my wholehearted desire to see things through and create healing in our relationship, I had to recognize that I have no control for someone else's healing, and I had to protect myself and my children from that process. If I didn't have kids or wasn't struggling with so much other bullshit, perhaps I could attempt to build a relationship with my dad...but I can't. It's too delicate. I have to respect that.

My mom seems to understand if not agree. She "learned a long time ago that it's senseless to argue with me." Whatever the fuck that means. Yeah...it's pretty much senseless to argue with ANYONE when you are arguing about issues of internal balance. But the more I discuss these things with my mom, the more empathy I have for her, realizing that she endured a buttload of abuse from my dad. I mean, she talked shit about the man the entire time I was growing up & I assumed that I had heard all of it & maybe there were times when I resented her for it. But as I get older, I realize that what she SAID was the tip of the iceberg of what was DONE...and I'm actually somewhat frightened to find out how deep the abuse went.

When it comes down to it... I have to respect my strong instinct to avoid my father, considering how very much I would like to participate in and cultivate a strong family unit. I need to work on/with what I have, which is two lovely boys and me...and move forward from here with courage, honesty, and strength.

*Depressed because, get this, the wife he "gave" all of his assets to to avoid paying his way way way past due child support ran off on him. I remember being physically sickened by him telling me, finally, that he was a wealthy, wealthy man when all through my childhood he denied this to avoid having to pay for anything having anything to do with me.

Now THAT is fucking funny.

October 1, 2005

Redneck Mother points to this video as an example of "reframing."

It's not only funny...it's, like TEXTBOOK funny.

Time to build a chicken coop

October 1, 2005

Cheaper Meat Doesn't Equal Happier Meals - Report

The giant feed lots and factory farms that have brought us cheaper meat also are fanning the spread of bird flu and mad cow disease, says a new report from a prominent environmental think tank.

''Factory farms are breaking the cycle between small farmers, their animals, and the environment, with collateral damage to human health and local communities,'' says the Washington, D.C.-based Worldwatch Institute.

''Mitigating the fallout will require a new approach to the way the animals are raised.''

I'd get a dairy cow, too...if I had the space and enough patience to figure out how to make cheese.

Comparitive Oppression

October 1, 2005

I just read the most entertaining blog post that I will never link to. It brought up some good points, but it was seething with a sexism that will never be admitted to, and this is the week I have decided to stop banging my head against walls, so I'm not going to go there.

However, I feel like I need to say something about oppression in the wake of last week's brouhaha over parenting, and the right for parents to participate in public spaces with their children. There seems to be a humongous lack of understanding of what I meant by oppression. Did I mean that someone telling my my child is a fucking brat who needs to be controlled is oppressive? No. That's fucking rude, but it is not, in itself, oppressive.

What is oppressive is the sexism that is inherent in singling out the behavior of marginally controllable human beings as a means of allowing or disallowing full participation in public spaces. What's further oppressive is in denying that, as things stand currently, whether we like it or not, the people who are generally tasked with the charge of these marginally controllable human beings are largely female. What's most oppressive of all is the notion that any person whose body is the sole or major means of nourishment and/or comfort (which, by the way, is one of many strategies that can be used to exert a modicum of control over the aforementioned only marginally controllable human beings) should be disallowed or even be made to think twice about providing said nourishment and/or comfort.

I am not arguing about the oppressiveness of a "lifestyle choice" but about the oppessiveness that is inherent in the patriarchy. Nor am I saying that this oppression negates the equal and opposite oppression of women who choose not to have children. Unfortunately, our society is an equal-opportunity oppressor.

And, look, griping about my anger doesn't earn you any anti-feminist points from me, either. Using "anger" as a means of discounting my points is the first line of defense of most sexists. Just as it's the first line of defense of most racists.

Which brings me to racism which, yes, is another form of oppression. Or, as some might argue, it's the same form of oppression in different garb. Believe it or not, racism can exist and can be fought against at the same time as sexism. And there are sexists of color and feminist racists. I know that exists, too. I know it's out there. It's pervasive. It exists outside of me, and it exists within me. Anyone who reads this blog regularly knows that I call it out when I see it, and when someone calls me on it, I do a fair amount of self-examination and I cop to whatever it is I discover I need to cop to. I feel like I've always been pretty up front about my participation in the system of privilege and my own privilege...enough so that if anyone wants to actually question me directly, I am prepared to listen, to examine, and to answer.

So, go ahead. Take your best shot.

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