This is completely fascinating and full of excellent mid-70' photographs. Learn why you should be come a volunteer minister in the Church of Scientology. Link via Boingboing.

Looks like Blogger has gone and changed all around. i hope that means that my blog will load faster...

I'm in the middle of a whirlwind of lawyers and forms and certificates and shit. I'm driving to NYC tonight and need to have some important paperwork with me. By late afternoon on July 1, I will no longer own a house.

My new apartment is very very hot. It's an attic, so, you know, it's not a huge surprise. I have one air conditioner and it's in the room with the computer and the TV, so I've been hiding out in there, staying up late until it's cool enough to sleep in the bedroom. This morning it was already getting hot so I washed dishes and finished packing in the nude. It's good to live alone sometimes.

This Saturday is the fireworks extravaganza in Easthampton. We're having a cookout at our (soon to be former) house. Bring meat or other substances to grill, and then we'll walk over to the field once it's fireworks time. Afterwards some of us are planning to walk (if the traffic is insane, which it will be) to the Brass Cat to see the Fawns play. Come one, come all!

Suddenly summer is here. Five minutes after I had gotten home from work last night we had a torrential and violent thunderstorm. It was a classic with crazy wind, solid sheets of water, flashes and then immediate thunder booms. Lasted about 20 minutes, maybe a little more. I ate a bagel and sat and watched. Then, before the rain even stopped falling, the sun came out. I looked outside and saw that my car, parked on the street, was in the middle of a lake. I ran downstairs with the dog and saw that the water was up to my hubcaps (about 4 inches deep). Dog and I wandered around a little, enjoying the water dripping off the trees and sparkling in the sunlight. As I was looking at the big street-lake a pickup truck came racing down the street and drove right through it without slowing down; the spray was spectacular, like a motorboat. Either he was trying to get me wet (he failed) or he was just enjoying the spraying action (fun). I found the drain for the flooded street section; the water was murky with sediment but there was a funnelled whirlpool there. Louise (dog) was fascinated with it and got her nose wet trying to figure out the movement and the slight sucking sound it made. There were some branches stuck in the flow so I pulled them out, which the dog then enjoyed playing with. A minute or two later the street was lake-free. The storm drain now has a thatch of leaves, dirt, bark, and maple seeds, so if there's a storm this evening there will be a repeat performance of the mini-flood.

My San Francisco-based friend Avani and I are thinking of going to Vegas sometime this summer. We may just save our pennies for a more extravagant trip to the Cancun/Cozumel area in the fall. I never take vacations like this, so I'm pretty excited.

I had a fine weekend despite the rain. Saturday I saw Jonathan Richman play an early show. He dances like I do. Or maybe he's better, I don't know. The audience was an interesting mix of college-aged to middle-aged, hipsters and hippies, and there was even a section of the floor right in front of the stage that was held for a group of sitting people. The standing ones let them have it, very civilized. I was standing on the border of the sitting-group, and some short guy kept invading my personal space. I hate, hate, hate having to touch someone repeatedly in order to stand my ground in a crowd. In this case my arm kept touching the guy's sweaty t-shirted side - not even an arm, his actual chest I had to deal with. He wasn't being aggressive, just oblivious. And annoying. I think this is a guy thing, to be that "free" with your body. Eventually I "accidentally" stepped on the side of his flip-flopped foot and re-established the beachhead for the remainder of the set.

Anyway. I do go on, don't I. After the show it had stopped raining so I strolled over to La Veracruzana to see if I could get a few tamales for later. They only offered them byt he dozen so I decided against it. On my way out, I saw my friends G and A sitting and eating with Martin, La Ver's owner, and two other guys. They had just been served big plates with rib-eye steaks, black beans, quesadilla-like things, oven fries, and guacamole. "Deb, are you hungry? Sit down, sit down!" I said, well, actually... "Come on, sit, we'll get you something!" Okay. I sat down and about five minutes later I get a plate like the others, sans steak (I don't eat it). I was offered wine but I passed. It was great. G and A are like living in a higher plane than I am. They go to silent week-long meditation retreats and stuff like that. And they're very generous, friendly, and hard to ruffle. After we were done eating Martin went and got his private family reserve bottle of tequila, which the men sipped. I kept leaning over to A and whispering, 'so should I try to give martin some money?' She said, 'I don't think so... just kiss him on the cheek when you leave.' Then one of the guys ran across the street and got an assortment of fudge. Eventually I had to leave in order to have enough time to go pick up my dog and return before my sister showed up at my apartment (arrival time: 11:30 p.m.).

Sunday was all rain, all the time. My sister and bro-in-law and I walked to Breugger's for bagels and got totally soaked. I brought the poor dog, too. After we ate we went to Ross Bros. in Florence, which, despite their sign saying otherwise, was closed. Hate that. Don't state your hours will be "1 to 5:30" if it's more accurate to add "but only if we feel like it." We went to the Haymarket instead and my sister and I mused about when it first opened and what a phenomenon it was. People would come from Hampshire College just to go to this coffee shop/bookstore. It was a cozy basement filled with old couches, chairs, and books, and it even had a separate smoking room. There weren't enough chairs for all of the patrons so people just sat on the floor, crammed in anywhere. This was during a hard stretch of winter. After a couple of weekends of sardine-like crowds, the fire marshall got them to post someone outside to count the customers so they wouldn't go over the occupancy limit. It was just The Place To Be.

Now it's a two-floor restaurant, the books have slowly but completely disappeared, and even the Haymarket pro-Labor aspect of the place is pretty much gone. It's much more polished and pretentious now, but they do have some fine and tasty food and coffee.

So I got a chai (mmm, caffeine) and by the time I got back to my apartment I was ready for some serious unpacking. Now I'm almost done! Yay, me.

Does anyone remember that movie, I think I saw it on PBS as a child, where there was a land where it rained every single day of the year except for one, and on that one day everyone ran outside to frolic and watch the flowers burst open? Does anyone remember the name of that? Wait, I don't have to remember it. I'm LIVING IT.

You know, except for the sunny day part.

A very easy friday five. 1. Is your hair naturally curly, wavy, or straight? Long or short?
Long and naturally curly.
2. How has your hair changed over your lifetime?
It really hasn't. My grooming techniques haven't changed since high school; I put conditioner on my hair in the shower, brush it through, rinse and towel-dry. Then I try not to mess with it and get it all puffy. I almost always fail, but for a couple of hours it looks alright.

3. How do your normally wear your hair? I like to wear it loose, but it gets in my way. By the end of the day it's back in a braid or a barette or something.

4. If you could change your hair this minute, what would it look like? I'd like to lose my middle part (instead it would be more tousled and random) and have more cute wispy tendrils.

5. Ever had a hair disaster? What happened? I haven't, really, though I kind of consider my hair in grades 6 through 12 a continual disaster. (I had no idea what to do with it so I kept it in a puffy ponytail at school every single day.) But I still remember my sister coming home from a bad haircut (this was in high school; she had been trying to grow it out and make it less poodle-like, a difficult trick because our hair is so damn curly) and absolutely wailing in misery about it. Our frustrated parents didn't understand at all, but I completely related. It's not just a bad haircut: it's many more weeks of teasing and embarrassment in school. Absolute misery.

Dear spammer,

Thanks for taking the time to email me, but I really don't think its fair to have the subject line be "someone has sent you an e-card!" and have the actual content of the email be "BLACK COCKS IN WHITE SLUTS!!!" Just thought you'd appreciate my input.

Cordially,
debl

I've had a revelation. I want to make things like these for a living. I especially love Mr. TTT, Barbie with Spirit Suit, and King Albino.

So I am mostly moved in, and spent my first night there last night. My old studio is in a shambles and I still have a bunch of stuff at the old house, but I'm putting off picking it up until I unpack a bit more. Going from having as much room as I need to a very small space has not been easy. The kitchen cabinet situation is especially ridiculous. I will be going to IKEA soon to remedy it.

Saturday I rented a U-Haul in a semi-sketchy area of Holyoke. When I was picking it up, the guy led me to the truck and had me sit down and prove that I could press on the brake pedal really hard "with those pretty little legs of yours." I had already slipped into courteous cute-girl mode so that remark didn't bother me. I pressed hard but of course the truck was in Park, so I wasn't really feeling the stiffness. Once I got going it was a whole other story. I was getting so tired that at stop lights I just put the fucker in Park.

Max and Anya and Doug and Jodi and Philip all helped me move, and for that they are angels. Anya is to be especially commended because it was her birthday! M and A missed out on the pizza and beer so I owe them something nice.

Somehow in the move I aquired a bunch of mysterious bruises all over, the oddest one being the inside of my elbow, where it looks like I've been shooting up.

more later. No internet access at the new place yet so give me a freakin' call if you want me.

I don't do drugs and I rarely even drink but I am totally supportive of the brand new Party Party. Read all about it here. From Neal Pollack, of course.

Something about Renee Zellweger really bugs me, so this news is extremely unpleasant to hear.

It's the friday five.

1. What's one thing you've always wanted to do, but never have? Travel to Venice. Really any travel to far-away places, like India and Bali and New Zealand and Japan.

2. When someone asks your opinion about a new haircut/outfit/etc, are you always honest? It depends on how they ask me. If they say "I'm not sure, does this work for me?" then I'm honest. Generally I'm polite, I won't make anyone feel bad. If it's truly awful I try to find something I like about it so I'm not technically lying. However, I will tell you if you have something in your hair or teeth or stuck to your shoe. During the cruise I told a total stranger that the price tag was still attached to her dress. She couldn't stop thanking me.

3. Have you ever found out something about a friend and then wished you hadn't? What happened? Not sure if this counts but I saw a drunk boyfriend of a friend of mine come on to and then make out with another woman (also a friend, also drunk). I never told her, even though soon afterwards they got engaged and are currently married. I'm still not sure I did the right thing. But for all I know she knew about it and it didn't bother her - she was that kind of person.

4. If you could live in any fictional world (from a book/movie/game/etc.) which would it be and why? This is embarrassing but I'd have to say Narnia. Except my Narnia would allow pre-marital sex and have great health care. As for why? Dude - talking animals and castles and crap! How can you not want it?

5. What's one talent/skill you don't have but always wanted? I'd love to be a virtuoso musician so I'd never have to work a real job ever again. Along with the skill would come the magical removal of my stage fright.

On Friday the 13th, is it bad luck to find a dead mole lying on its back in the middle of the sidewalk?

It was actually pretty neat. All I can figure is that a cat killed it and left it as an offering to the world, as it looked unharmed, just damp. And it was an actual mole, not a vole; it had those crazy long-nailed digger flipper paws. I wanted to snip one off and take it with me. But I didn't.

Paper robots for you to print and build can be found here. Warning - entirely in Japanese, but should be easy enough to figure out how to put them together. Link gotten from this new discovery, the geisha asobi blog, who also has a picture of my favorite paper robot.

Neal Pollack has yet another great idea: on June 26, Appropriate Michael Savage's Name For Your Own Purposes. Go to the link for information.

Sorry for the blog-lack. I have been busy at work and extremely busy at home, trying to pack before my move date on Saturday at noon. I'm also arranging for things to be repaired at my house, and settling legal details for the sale, and trying not to piss off the kids too much while rejecting their requests for help due to lack of time. Tonight I am going to borrow P's van and move a bunch of stuff I'd rather not have sloshing around in the back of a U-Haul, like clothes on hangers, plants, artwork, and maybe my stereo.

See? Pretty boring, right? That's why I haven't been blogging.

Fountains of Wayne's new album gets a rave review from The Onion A.V. Club.

Eye on the Roundhouse Parking Lot: Having waited through the recent rainy stretch, the magical fluffkin tree has released mounds of fluffy floating seeds into the air. Little white puffs are flying all over the place. As I was waiting for my Cha Cha Cha lunch order I watched them float into the restaurant through the propped-open doorway. It is good.

I moved a carload of stuff into my new apartment yesterday. I think I saw my downstairs neighbor. I had thought it was a twenty-something woman who liked kind of funky old-lady things, but it turns out she's an actual funky old lady. She didn't speak to me or seem to want to engage with me in any way so I didn't introduce myself. I hope she'll be a good neighbor. There's no way she could be as bad as former neighbor Helen, a half-crazy Polish lady living alone with her middle-aged Down's Syndrome daughter. She rented out the top floor of her house on South Street for very, very cheap. She called us frequently, in a classic, loud, old-lady drone, for offenses such as shutting the faucet off too fast (which made the pipes make a "shunt!" sound that she said would make the pipes burst and give her a heart attack). She would almost have a nervous breakdown if a fuse needed to be replaced. Also, during a "How's the weather? Sure is hot!" conversation, she flashed me her bare, pendulous, low-swinging breasts multiple times, laughing that she usually went nude to keep cool. At the time I thought, "you go, girl!" but that was early on in our relationship. If anything ever broke, or was wrong somehow, she'd sigh and wail and bemoan her fate as a poor helpless woman on this earth, buried in a mountain of bad luck and bedevilry. And then you'd be stuck in the position of calming her down and fixing the problem yourself. Ah, those were the days.

I had my tag sale, even though it rained. I probably made about 10 bucks. And noone I know stopped by, but, y'know, whatever.

I also had Friday off of work, so here's a late Friday Five:

1. How many times have you truly been in love? Three.

2. What was/is so great about the person you love(d) the most? I'm trying to find a way to answer this without cynicism... They were funny and enthusiastic, and appreciated me, at least for a while.

3. What qualities should a significant other have? Well they should share at least some basic traits. They should be forgiving and patient. And make each other laugh. I haven't figured out anything else.

4. Have you ever broken someone's heart? I did only once, without meaning to. It belonged to a friend in college. But we weren't dating or anything.

5. If there was one thing you could teach people about love, what would it be? That it's better to be alone than with someone that makes you unhappy most of the time.

Hello, this is an announcement: I am having a TAG SALE this Saturday. Please come and buy things, or at least stop by to say hello. It's a moving sale so I will be getting rid of a lot of stuff, not all of it broken and crappy - some stuff I will be selling SIMPLY BECAUSE I HAVEN'T THE ROOM FOR IT, so you know this will be worth your time. It's from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. and the address is 140 Park St., Easthampton. Come and sift through the detritus of my life!

I don't know if any of you have beeen following the brouhaha about actor/director Vincent Gallo's roundly-hated Cannes film, Brown Bunny. Roger Ebert reported the loud jeers for the film, then Gallo cursed fat Ebert's colon, Ebert said he could lose 30 pounds but Gallo could gain 30 IQ points. Now Vince and has some more choice words for Roger:

"You tell that hamhock Roger Ebert he could lose 30 pounds a day for the next four years and still be fat. As for the curse on his colon, what I actually said was that I put an unremovable black magic curse on his prostate, which will enlarge into a large cancerous ball by the fall. . . . I want to challenge that fat cow to an IQ test. I bet him $1 million dollars to take a public IQ test against me. By the way, tell him I also put a curse on [Gene] Siskel [Ebert's partner on TV's "Siskel and Ebert," who died of complications from a brain tumor in 1999]."

When told of Gallo's latest outburst, Ebert replied: "I wish Mr. Gallo a speedy recovery." A perfect comeback! Match and game goes to Ebert!

Click here to see the source of the above and a hideous pic of Gallo: New York Post

Remember the prognostication game, MASH? If you were a girl in the 70s or 80s you probably do. Now there's an online version of it! Here are my results, which are scarily accurate for my present-day life:

Your husband's name is Philip and you have 4 children. You're a writer who drives to work every day in a orange old Saturn.

It's truly a wonderful life when you consider the countless romantic nights you have spent with Philip in your shack in MA.

I am late with the blogging. Over the weekend my head became a pulsing overfilled balloon with occasional messy leaks. I am sick, again, this time with a sinus infection, for which I got actual pills to help cure - a step up from what usually happens ("hmm... I don't really know what's wrong with you. Well, if you feel the same in a couple of weeks, call for another appointment."). I feel well enough today to be at work, and it is very busy here, which means I'll be giving all of my allotted energy to the office and will spend my free time this evening in a prone position. Life is unfair.

At work today I did learn that (1.) SARS jokes are still going over well, but (2.) tuberculosis jokes go over even better. I attribute this to the element of surprise.

This guy overdubbed four old G.I. Joe PSAs, to amusing effect. Go and see.

Dear Haymarket,

Most mornings I buy my breakfast carbo treat from Bart's (muffins: $1.10) or Bakery Normand (danishes: $1.65) because they're the closest to my office. Today, however, I walked a little further up the street to buy something from you. I like you, really I do, even though the hipsters behind the counter judge me with their painted eyes. Anyway, I like you because you have good chai and your breakfast treats - specifically, the oat cakes - seem healthier than most. Which brings me to the reason for this letter. I bought a strawberry oatcake today for $1.15. And there was not a single strawberry in it. Not even a little chopped-up morsel. I ask you, how could this have happened? Was the tattooed androgynous baker so, well, baked that he or she forgot to add the identifying ingredient to the batter? Maybe the baker got the munchies and ate almost all of the strawberries first? Sure, when you make the blackberry oat cakes, they're fairly bursting with inedible, tooth-chipping blackberry seeds. But for some reason, no strawberries. What gives? This is almost as bad as the time I bought an oat cake from you and it was raw dough inside. At least with that one I could bring it back for a better one without looking like an asshole. But a strawberry-free strawberry oatcake just makes me suffer here in fruitless silence.

Sincerely,
Debl

The Twins Thing is a perfect response to those stomach-churning Coors ads. You know, the one where the announcer goes "I like football on TV, blah blah blah blah blee (paraphrasing, here), and ...twins." My twin sister and I have been boycotting Coors products ever since the ads appeared, not that that was difficult to do.

Tax Law Omits Child Credit in Low-Income Brackets Quick quiz. Which is more important: Giving lower income families the same tax credits for their children as middle income families get, or reducing the dividend/estate tax for wealthy families? If you're a Republican, the answer is the latter. Who votes for these assholes? Can I bitch-slap them? Please?

There was another round of lice-killing and hair-combing last night. I must have combed T's hair for an hour. It's actually quite nice. It's very soothing and contemplative, like petting an animal, which is pretty much what it is. Her hair is silky and completely straight so it's not difficult.

I finished my ass-less chair last night! Stayed up and move a seat out of strips of calico. It will only last like a year at most, but it looks cool. I didn't trim the ends of the fabric strips so underneath the chair there's a lot of fabric hanging down. It looks like the chair seat has a bustle. It's like a cat paradise under there. Someday I'll get a picture up online of it. I'm behind on my photo-posting but at least this week I have an excuse: We didn't pay our cable bill, it got shut off, and now it'll be Friday before I can get internet access from home.

I had a motherly weekend. I was the mother. I took one kid to the mall and drove her to a friend's house, and I helped the other one with a science project involving pond life. I took her to the pond that lies near the center of town and we scooped up water in a big bucket, looking for algae, a particular plant, and water fleas. The fleas are crucial to the experiment but we didn't find any. Hopefully her teacher will give us a clue on how to get some, since this experiment is from a hand-out she gave us. Poking around in the pond was fun. I don't remember my parents doing anything like that with me.

I also had to treat one of the kids for lice. She was pretty mellow about the whole thing; she's 14, which normally would be a prime age for a freak-out. I related; I got a bad case of lice when I was 16. It was incredibly creepy (literally) and horrifying and embarrassing (I didn't tell anyone, of course) though it was a good illustration of how random getting lice is - I showered every single day back then. Anyway, I used my past experience to take control of the lice treatment. Bought some over-the-counter poison shampoo, rubbed it into her head, then combed it through with a nit comb. I actually wasn't certain she had lice until I caught a couple on the comb. It brought back the memories... After getting one I'd dunk the comb into a bowl of water to get rid of it. When I was all done I flushed the water down the toilet; somehow just sending them down the sunk drain didn't feel like enough. Nasty little things.

Anyway, with all of the mom-ing I didn't get nearly as much sorting and packing done as I'd liked. I did work on some random projects I must finish before I move:

Painted one of my seat-less chairs. Now I just need to weave a seat onto it.

Went through my stack of fabric, found a too-big dress I was going to use for fabric, cut off the skirt part and made it into a finished skirt with a zipper closure.

Did a little weeding outside.

I put a bunch of stuff on eBay. I changed my name so it would be a little harder for people who know me from my job to see that I'm using my position for personal gain. I'm not doing anything unethical, really, but I just don't want to raise any eyebrows.

I also bought a bikini (on sale), going back on my one-pieces-for-now-on resolution I made two summers ago. I couldn't resist. Bikinis are very handy for changing in and out of on the fly, like when I drive to a swimmin hole and want to change before I get back into the car.

I need to stop spending money now.

Cats to become a rabbit should gather immediately now here.

So I wrote that post below, wallowed for a few more minutes, then decided that fuck it, I would try to get in to the Beck show: Standing room only, buying a scalped ticket, listening outside on the sidewalk, whatever. This was the first date on his new tour, and for some reason he's playing in my town at a tiny venue that holds maybe 250 people. I had to check it out. So I went to the ATM and took out just what I wouldn't mind paying for a ticket. I went and waited online for the standby line - it was two hours before the show and the ticket-holders' line to get in was already to the end of the block of buildings. After about ten minutes a guy came by and asked us all what we would pay for his extra ticket. The poor-looking college kids near me gave kind of lame bids so I thought 'be! aggressive! b-e- aggressive!' and I ran to him and told him what I'd pay. He took it. I paid a 150 percent markup, but so what - it was still less than what I had on me. I got in!

So. The show. Beck is a pop-rock angel. An angel with a hard-on (not literally). He was all curly-blonde and deep blue eyes and thin black t-shirt and shiny jeans. A music nerd in funk-star clothing. I stood less than ten feet away from Beck for the entire show, having maneuvered my way there right before it started (be! aggressive! b-e aggressive!) to stand next to Max and Anya. He played a bunch of stuff from his current album, along with some mellow numbers from Mutations, and then went to the everybody-dance-like-there's-ass-in-your-pants favorites like Devil's Haircut, Tropicalia, Where It's At, and Sex Laws. We got to see him dance a little. He bantered with the audience. He did a call and response which used "Sergio Valente" and "Jordache Jordache Jordache" and "Ooh, La La, Sassoon." I felt a connection growing between us. When he did a little human-beat-box and then a pop-rockin' dance move where he mimed combing his hair and straightening his bangs, that's when I knew: We are to be wed. Beck, call me!

Tonight I don't want to hear or even read anything containing the letters "B" "E" "C" or "K." I think that would be best for everyone's safety, including my own. I may have to drive somewhere far, far away to avoid the situation entirely. Or lock myself in a closet with a white-noise machine until everyone else is in bed.

I'm just being realistic here.

So anyway. The other cool part of my trip was Star Wars Weekends at MGM. I was officially "checking it out" for my "job" but it was really pretty fun. Lando, aka Billy Dee Williams, walked right past me and I got a couple of photos. There were costumed characters wandering around anywhere and some cute low-grade stage shows, including one where a Jedi master picks 10 kids from the audience, gives them padawan robes and plastic lightsabers, and has them practice some moves. After he goes through the routine with them, the music turns ominous and out trots a couple of Stormtroopers and then Darth Vader himself. Then one by one the kids, some of them no more than 3 or 4 years old, go through the routine with Darth, who does a good job of putting his light saber in the correct position for the kid to hit with his own. It was pretty adorable and funny. My one complaint was that there was only one girl in the group, and there were definitely other girls in the crowd who wanted to be picked. Very lame. At the end the Jedi tells the audience that Darth knows he can't defeat the Jedi trainees, so Darth stalks off.

I was impressed with the breadth of characters they had. The emperor and three red-robed guards, a not-very-close likeness of Han Solo, Luke, and Leia; a very very bad likeness of Mace Windu (Samuel L. Jackson), of whom I can only assume they just found the one bald black guy who worked at the park and forced him to do it; the entire Mos Eisley cantina band; a Gamorrean Guard; a couple of ewoks; more stormtroopers; Greedo; Chewbacca; and I think there was a Princess Natalie Portman (whatever her character was) in there but my eyes skipped over the new trilogy people. I was geeking out, and surrounded by others doing the same, which is always fun. Among the mostly-30-something crowd there were a couple of punks dressed up in long black robes for the event, and it was brutally hot out, so that's serious dedication.

Pictures tk. [tk= to come, in editor-speak]

I'm taking a break from reading this article in Time about more and more people accepting pay cuts and no raises while their CEOs get raises in the double digits because I'm getting so fucking angry. I'm like, Let's start a fucking revolution, I am sick of this shit. It's so unfair, to be rewarded for screwing over the people who work hard for you. Are you with me? Let's take up arms against our capitalist oppressors!!

Go help out Jim Treacher and buy this Deceptively Earnest-Seeming Thong. And because I also care about The Issues of the Day, get one for me too, size medium.

Hey, I'm back! Hello. No more trips scheduled, and my travel urge has been satisfied for the time being. The cruise was weird. Yes, there was a lot of food available all the time, and lots of activities at any given time, but everything is geared towards pleasing the widest audience possible. So the food was kind of uninspired, and there were dance clubs, but they played very mainstream music, and there were "funny" shows and games, but they were never really that funny or surprising. I think for me to enjoy a cruise, it would have to have different activities. If I was Julie the Activities Director, here's what I'd offer:

Ska party - black and white attire requested
the exquisite corpse poetry game
knitting class
Mr. Show - live on stage!
80s-television-shows trivia contest
Scavenger hunt
Dance Party with music by Beck, the White Stripes, Pixies, The Jam, etc.
Video-Store Dana doing his Bar 19 multimedia thing

And so on. I also did not like the motion of the ocean. And it's really not the size of the wave, because the sea was pretty calm and I still felt all woozy and unpleasant. My room was the most-forward room on the ship, and it was low, on the second level (out of 10). I could feel vibrations from the engine, and there was a constant, unexpected back-and-forth motion. So I spent some nice evenings dozing on the upholstered lounge chairs on the promenade deck, with the breeze blowing and the sound of the water being sliced by the ship.

The ship stopped for a day at Nassau, which is a fairly depressing place. I didn't take an "excursion," opting instead to save my money and wander around, and take a cab to the public beach and the Atlantis resort and casino. Lots of grim-looking women asked if I'd like my hair braided (in corn rows; most of the little girls on the ship had them by the end of the cruise). If I didn't respond they'd say "hellloo!?" in this pissed off way. I was looking to buy some Bonine after a very bad night on Dramamine. That stuff sucks so much that I can't believe it's so popular. It just acts like a downer, which my body fights, so I'd get very close to falling asleep and then I'd jolt awake, swallowing hard. Ugh. A tourist map pointed out a pharmacy so I used it to guide me into the non-tourist area but the pharmacy must have shut down. It was extremely hot out. On the way back a "bus" driver offered me a lift back to downtown - one dollar. I took it. It was kind of a grimy open-air mini-van with bench seats and it worked for me. Once I was closer to the tourist area I miraculously found a local supermarket which had a slightly crumpled box of Bonine for sale behind the counter. I also bought a couple of stencilled tin plates, $1.50 each, and I saw but did not buy a can of "Jamaican-style Irish Moss Drink." It was my favorite store on the island, way more interesting and exotic than the jewelry stores and t-shirt crap shacks I also wandered into.

I took a taxi van to Atlantis and bet with $6 on video poker and nickel slots. I was never ahead so I quit while I was only down a little (to $5). I walked to the public beach which had a bunch of locals under the scrbby trees, most just hanging out but one selling and smoking weed. The white tourists were all out in the sunny sand. I had been warned to not leave valuables on the beach unattended and I had my camera with me, so I asked some sunbathing lady if she'd keep an eye on my stuff and I went to the water before she had time to answer. The water was gorgeous, bright turquoise, totally clear and cool. I got out pretty quickly and went back to the ship.

The next day at the next island stop I ended up snorkelling for the first time. It was wonderful. You get to be a fish! I couldn't wear my glasses so everything was blurry but I did see a bunch of tropical fish. I swam right over them! The rest of the day was not nearly as exciting; lots of looking for a shady place to lie down and walking around in the sun. I also passed up a chance to try out a Segway, $15 for 10 minutes.

I am happy to be back in my New England home. More travelogue possibly later tomorrow!

I got a couple of pics to share from my last trip to sunny Florida. This one is for my sister:



And I just really liked this Mexican sculpture. Plus there's a reflection of me in my funny hat.



That's all for now. See you Monday!

Today (Tuesday) was even fuckin' crazier than yesterday. Too boring though to recount here, all work stuff. I did take the 200 hi-res pics off of my memory card and saved them onto my work computer (opening and naming each one) and then I burned a CD of them, which was pretty exciting.
Tomorrow I fly back to Florida. The first and last nights of my trip I'll be staying at the hotels I stayed at during a family trip to WDW when I was 11 (spring of 1984, I think). It was noteable in that we were together for an entire week and didn't fight once. It still awes me to think of it. The trip was also pretty much the only vacation our family took that wasn't to visit family or a Quaker retreat thing. In fact it may have been my first hotel experience of any kind. Now I'm all jaded and shit. And I say things and add "and shit" to the end of them. That's how jaded I am.

Whew. Busy day here at camp debl. This morning I discovered the Perils of Modern Fashion. My dog jumped up on me unexpectedly, and, since I was wearing a midriff-baring shirt and low-rise jeans, her claw carved a little frowny welt in my flesh just below my navel.

The sun was shining about half an hour ago but now it looks like it's back to being clammy and wet out.

Tag Saling was not as great as I was hoping for. Perhaps my expectations were too high. They certainly were for the "Monster Tag Sale" at the church downtown. I even got up early - set the alarm for 8, after staying up until 2:30 the night before. I mapped out some juicy-sounding sales and planned my attack before leaving the house: Estate sale in N'ton first, then hit some E'ton ones, ending up at the Monster. But the estate sale was really just someone's basement full of junk. I scouted for about five minutes and left. Apparently there were some good clothes there, because a friend scored big there later. Oh well. At the E'ton ones, they had an okay selection, just nothing of what I was looking for: small kitchen table thing, air conditioner, new-ish microwave oven, Fire King bowls... I did get a fairly large plant stand/shelving thing for one dollar, and a nice vintage flower pin for 50 cents. At the Monster Tag Sale I scored a broken watch for 10 cents (woo!), a book with a nice cover and illustrations for some distant future art project, and a 75-cent plastic yellow case for all the spools of thread I bought at a previous tag sale. As you can tell, I was not very successful. But I had fun anyway.

I also saw the X-Men sequel. It's better than the first one. It's just a bubblegum movie, but I found it thrilling enough. Plus they had previews for the new Matrix film, Hulk, Charlies Angels II, and Stuck On You, the preview for which took me a few minutes to realize it wasn't a parody of a dumb movie but an actual dumb movie.

Ah yes, Tag Sale season! It's a great time to be alive! Breathe it in deep, people! Woo!

the friday five

1. Would you consider yourself an organized person? Why or why not?
I'm medium-organized. I have hanging files holding crap like paid bills, rabies vaccination certificates, and the like. I very rarely forget to pay a bill on time. But there are also too many piles of things I haven't found homes for yet. Clutter is an issue I deal with often.

2. Do you keep some type of planner, organizer, calendar, etc. with you, and do you use it regularly?
I have a Franklin-Covey planner that I use mostly just to schedule meetings and scribble notes. Work paid for it. I have various other notebooks scattered around the house that I use to write lists of Things To Do, tag sales, directions, etc. I ususally know where everything is.

3. Would you say that your desk is organized right now?
It is, but only because we had an office clean-up day just a couple of weeks ago. Even when it was cluttered I knew what was on my desk. Usually.

4. Do you alphabetize CDs, books, and DVDs, or does it not matter?
It doesn't matter. After I move into my own apartment I may try to alphebetize my CDs. In the past I've clumped them by artist and frequency of play (the most popular are front and center). It's hopeless to keep my CDs organized with three other people using them and not putting CDs back in their cases half the time. (pet peeve? why yes!)

5. What's the hardest thing you've ever had to organize? There was that horrible job recoding parts at Tubed Products, but that wasn't hard per se. I once took it upon myself to create a treasure hunt for my boyfriend's daughter, who I had only known about a year (only on the weekends). I scouted out locations all around the house and then wrote each clue in the form of a haiku. I mixed it up so each kid would be going different places instead off moving everywhere as a group. At the end of it were baskets of toys and candy, a basket for each of them so the game was non-competitive. I was all proud of myself but then when the game was actually being played, I realized with horror that I had left out a location, making the kids come to a dead end in the middle of the hunt. Also the clues were too hard for them, which surprised me (come on, any 12-year old should be able to figure out where you put water to make it stiff). I ended up having to give them the answers to the clues and filling in the missing clue stop by just telling them where to go next. I was completely mortified. They seemed to like the prizes, at least...

The next year I wasn't as ambitious. I tied the end of a ball of yarn to each prize bag and unwound the yarn all over the room. I gave each kid a ball of yarn and told them to wind up the yarn as they followed it to the end. Much simpler and quicker and no possibility for failure.

I did it; I gave big checks to the rental agency for the third-floor cozy garret apartment. I kind of like how funky it is, actually, and if I end up hating it I can get out of the month-to-month lease very easily. I went back for a third visit today and I measures the smallest door width: 29 inches. I think I can probably fit most things up the stairs. Other new info about the place: coin-op laundry in the basement, and storage room available in the basement, so I can put my giant boxes for my TV and monitor down there.

I slept poorly again last night. Here's the bad insomnia-schedule I fall into: Go home from work. Take a nap (1.5 hours, usually). Eat dinner. Watch TV. Stay up to watch the Daily Show at 11:30. Watch a little more TV because by this time I'm lying on the couch with my entropy-inducing dog. Go to bed finally, around midnight, and my mind starts buzzing, thinking about all of the paralyzing details I need to think about, the details I've been blocking out with good ol' television all evening. Toss and turn in bed, often with eyes open and my teeth tapping out songs (a weird habit I have) wondering if I should keep my mom's little desk from college or sell it, if I should get a plot at the community gardens this year or will it be too much of a hassle, if I should bite the bullet and buy the neighbors a new lawn mower to replace the one I accidentally totalled. Finally I either take a sleeping pill or fall asleep naturally an hour or two later.

I think tonight, instead of non-stop TV, I'm going to make some lists. A fun one will be Things to Find at Tag Sales (includes: microwave oven; record player; futon couch or short sofa, small butcher-block kitchen counter thing). This Saturday should be nice and ripe for the Tag Saling.

p.s. My SARS seems to be better, despite the lack of sleep. Whew.

So I couldn't sleep last night, thinking about my potential new home. The girls living there now have basically no furniture, just a few small-ish pieces and a number of futons on the floor. What kept me awake was realizing that maybe the reason why there was no furniture is because they couldn't get any up the stairs (there's a turn in the stairwell). So now I feel compelled to ask to see the place for a third time before I give up my fee to the rental agency. I don't care, I'd rather be sure than to regret it later on moving day, when I'd have no option but to throw most of my furniture away.

Also, possibly due to my stress levels lately, my SARS is back. At least, my throat hurts like hell every time I swallow. What the fuck?? I'd better be well by next Weds., when I return for my final trip to Florida, this time for a 3-night cruise. I got my room assignment and it's the room that's the furthest forward possible on the boat. Not sure if that's good or bad, movement-wise. Probably bad. Crap.

Okay, hi. Florida was pretty great. I saw many animals and got to stare at them for a long time, and get paid for doing so, which was nice. After the first day my SARS seems to have gone away. I did wear the EarPlanes and they seemed to work, though I also took Sudafed so it wasn't an accurate scientific study. The heat was very oppressive. The last two afternoons I was there I ended up feeling dizzy and sick, and this was while I was taking it easy, staying out of the sun and hopping into air-conditioned buildings as often as possible. So I'd have to go back to the hotel and collapse on the bed for a couple of hours. I'm still recovering, really.

My boss's 3-year-old daughter was along for the trip (as was the child's dad) and she totally fell in love with me. She only calls me by my full name because that's what she's heard her mom call me. She would come up and hug me a lot, and we played some games, and I taught her what a monkey-bite was (she likes to have tickle fights). She also said "excuse me" a lot. A couple of times she said "excuse me.... I love you." So cute. I'd be all "oh, that's so sweet! Thank you!" because I'm not as free with the "L" word as she is.

So I may have found a place to live. It's kind of a right-out-of-college apartment, unfortunately, but I think I need someplace slightly shabby if I'm going to keep my dog. It's an attic situation and so the spaces are a little funky. The bedroom is normal but the other rooms have slanted walls and the like. The shower/bathtub is especially short and odd, as is what would be the dining area. And the walls are painted interesting colors, which I like, but they're all sponged on in swirly Trading-Spaces-like ways to varying degrees of success. But it is a month-to-month lease, and it's on a quiet street just two blocks from town. So I told them to go ahead with my application. Meanwhile I'll be looking like mad for something better (cheaper; with straight walls) in the next couple of days.

I'm back - and here's just a little something, apropos of nothing.



LInk courtesy of Boingboing.

I guess I'm-a goin back to Florida tomorrow, even though I might have the SARS. Sure, my instant-strep test was negative, but I still feel like crap. Remember the good ol' days, when a strep test took 24 hours, and they'd give you some antibiotics to start, just to make sure? And also if you had white blobs on your tonsils, they gave you antibiotics? Even if you didn't really need them, they always made you feel better. I can't even remember the last time I got antibiotics. All because some dickheads were popping them like they were going out of style, creating new superviruses and shit. And now I feel really crappy, still, but I also still want to get my Florida on, you know? So in preparation, I bought some Sudafed and some EarPlanes (expensive tricky ear plug things) so I don't howl in unimaginable pain (oh but I can imagine, dear reader) as the airplane descends. I'm still worried about major ear pain. My thraot hurts just sitting here not swallowing or anything. Oy!! I am an idiot. Time to go to bed. I might get a chance to blog tomorrow, if not I'll see you Monday!

Argh! I'm home sick today, and I'm so behind at work it's horrible. Plus I don't exactly feel welcome here at home during the day. I feel very crappy and I probably have strep, which I haven't had since I was a kid. I see the doctor at 1:30. I see an apartment at noon, though, so I need to look not-sick for that... Crap crap crap crap.

When I read about this on gummi's blog, I thought for sure she had fallen for some internet hoax, that such a product (with such a name!) couldn't really be for sale. But ladies and gentlemen, I present to you:Uncrustables.

Are people really that lazy that they can't be bothered to make their own fuckin' pb&j? No wonder the world hates us!!!

Here it is, after a one week break: the friday five.

1. What was the last TV show you watched? The Daily Show last night. The bit on anxiety was good but could have been mined even further, though I may just think about the topic more than most people.

2. What was the last thing you complained about? That P let the dog outside, again, to wander around the house and go wherever he wanted to go, like under a car or miles away or shitting in a neighbor's garden.

3. Who was the last person you complimented and what did you say? I complimented A on her grades, all-A's. I also complimented her on some bargainy clothes she bought.

4. What was the last thing you threw away? Some used tissues. Sorry it's not more interesting.

5. What was the last website (besides this one) that you visited? I was just looking on eBay for Betsey Johnson clothes, because I am bored, and I am lame.

Hey, I'm back! Hi, hello, hi. Florida was very nice. It was jam-packed with receptions, yummy meals, swag, small talk, a few rides, and free drinks. Unlike many of my work trips, this time I was with three interesting co-workers who had just the right level of cynicism (not too high), making the park-touring extra fun. Also:

I sprained a toe doing Dance Dance Revolution with an unlikely officemate. I blame my slippery sandals.

Due to the toe hurting, I was unable to wear the new white shoes I had bought after spending hours searching for the perfect pair. Godammit.

The monday-night extravaganza party had free temporary tattoos and a handwriting analyst. I got a classic knife-through-a-heart with a banner that says "LOVE". The handwriting analyst was somewhat right-on; the creepiest and closest thing she said was "you're analytical and logical ... And you have a strong connection with your mother, but wish your father had been more present for you." Whoa, where did that come from?

The new ride we got to tour, which will involve sort of a ride-simulator capsule, has supposedly made a lot of ride-testers sick. Apparently it involves a lot of spinning, but noone, and I mean noone, will say exactly how it moves. They're trying to tell riders that it can make sensitive people sick, but until they tell people what the ride does, I bet there will be a lot of barfing. Plus there is no way in hell I will go on it.

Both of my flights were sold-out, and though I thought I had gotten my ticket far enough in advance, I was seated in the middle seat. It's spring break and the planes (and the parks) were absolutely packed. I was so tired yesterday I gave up a free ticket to see Yo La Tengo, opting to nap and then sink into the couch for a couple of hours. It enabled me to get up early (i.e. on time) today to call for apartments (a crappy overpriced one off of Hawley might take a dog...) and make an appointment with a "specialist" to check out my eye of mystery (they can see me today, incredibly). Both my bosses seem to be out of the office today so it's been a nice reentry back to work.

It's late - I just returned from Boston where I saw A Mighty Wind (good) and the White Stripes (Excellent!!). Tomorrow I leave at 8 a.m. for a two-day press trip, so you won't be hearing from me until Wednesday night. Okay!

Blog on it.

I like big blogs and I cannot lie.

Mary Mary, why ya bloggin?

I really have nothing to say today. I'm out of the office tomorrow, and going to Florida for a media event next Monday to Wednesday, so blogging may be sporadic. And I've been very busy trying to get everything in order before my trip (which I should really just relax about, since it's only two frickin' nights).

Anyone hear of a one-bedroom apartment that allows dogs and isn't more than, say, $700 a month, starting June or July 1, let me know, okay? Thanks.

On Friday, P and I managed to open up a long-stuck drawer on this old sideboard I have. In the process, we ended up breaking a piece of wood off of the bottom, but I didn't care; inside was my collection of cassette tapes, which I hadn't heard in three years! I have a tape player in my car, and have been listening to the same twelve tapes over and over (I usually end up listening to the radio). So on my drive to and from Brooklyn I got to listen to some new-old music. I had a mix-tape from my sister made during a summer in college, a mix-tape from my friend Av, and several I made for myself. Those I know by heart. One of them (named Mix-O-Rama) never fails to drown me in nostalgia. I made it in the spring or summer of 1991; I can date it due to the inclusion of a Neil Young song and a Led Zepplin song, pointing to my crush I had around that time on a guy-friend who liked them. I listened to this tape throughout a summer spent in New Jersey, home from college and living at my parentsÕ house to save money. IÕd drive from the suburbs into the semi-rural area, down a two-mile-long road called Canal Street that was a slightly curvy tunnel of lush, cool greenery, an oasis from the humid Jersey weather, and I'd belt out these songs, my heart filled with late-teenage angst and emotion. Here's the track listing. Note in advance: I was/am not cool, and my song choices are kind of embarrassing. I give my reasons for including each one.

Cinnamon Girl - Neil Young (see above)
Love Rears its Ugly Head - Living Colour (about fighting falling in love; failing)
Still Crazy After All These Years Ð Paul Simon (nostalgic vibe)
Kodachrome Ð Paul Simon (ÒWhen I think back on all the crap I learned in high school, itÕs a wonder I can think at allÓ)
The Rain Song Ð Led Zepplin (see above; very pretty song)
CouldnÕt Call it Unexpected #2 Ð Elvis Costello (Elvis is my man. These three were my favorites off of his current release)
Playboy to a Man Ð Elvis Costello
Sweet Pear Ð Elvis Costello

(Side B)
SheÕs Always a Woman Ð Billy Joel (I donÕt know what I was thinking. I fast-forwarded through this one every time)
Like Cockatoos Ð The Cure (breakup song)
Summertime Rolls Ð JaneÕs Addiction (lazy hot summer theme. I also saw them at the first Lollapalooza)
Just Like Heaven Ð The Cure (high school nostalgia (already) )
DŽjˆ vu Ð Crosby Stills Nash and Young (due to recently discovering them at my hippie college)
Everyday Sunshine Ð Fishbone (I had seen them in concert recently Ð still in my top five shows of all time. Even the security guards were dancing. But not that great a song; was struggling to fill up the tape at this point)
So Like Candy Ð Elvis Costello (I guess my fourth-favorite song from ECÕs newest; again trying to fill up the rest of the tape)

So there you have it. Begin psychoanalysis É now!

Hey look - it's the Tuesday (ahem) Five!

1. What was the first band you saw in concert? The first one I went sans parents was pretty hip: it was Souxsie and the Banshees. Ziggy Marley opened up, believe it or not. This was at Rutgers. Before that, I had seen Sting with my mom in a big arena show. I was really into the Police but by this point Sting was promoting his second solo album. This was as close as I could get.

2. Who is your favorite artist/band now? I listened to the White Stripes' Elephant a few more times and now I'm in love with it. Next week I'll probably have a different answer.

3. What's your favorite song? I really like "Planet" by the Sugarcubes, yes even with the crazy guy's shout-singing. Also "Man Out of Time" by Elvis Costello, or perhaps "Sweet Pear" if I'm feeling dramatic. Then of course there's the Beatles. And Liz Phair's first album, and Elliott Smith's second and third albums. Who can possibly answer this?

4. If you could play any instrument, what would it be? Guitar. Or bass. For the rocking.

5. If you could meet any musical icon (past or present), who would it be and why? John Lennon. I'd like to see if he was a loving peaceful creative friendly freak, or an arrogant snobby off-putting freak. A mix off the two, I'd imagine.

Here are three pictures I took at the Brooklyn Zoo yesterday. It's a small zoo, so I pretty much met every animal that lived there. We had a nice time.

This guy, in particular, was a favorite. We hung out and chatted for a few minutes before he had to go do some important grooming.



This guy was really into himself, all "ooh, look at me, I'm so sleek and whiskery." Loser.



And this was the absolute best: While we were looking through a viewing window, the leader of the baboon troop gave us some pressed ham!!

I was in NYC for the weekend, in case you were wondering. I was mostly with just my sister and bro-in-law, though I did get to hang with S, Al, and their adorable 6-month-old son.
Some highlights:

On the drive down and back on the Merritt, I saw five live turkeys, two dead turkeys, and numerous jive turkeys.

The guy who slices the lox so thin you can read through it at the Blue Apron gourmet food shop is a "Master Slicer." He's like a famous specialist in slicing food.

Jackass was funny. Some parts fell flat, but during the roller disco truck segment I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

The Brooklyn Zoo was hoppin' on Saturday afternoon. I will post pictures next.

Little Italy only has expensive retaurants. It's like Italy at Epcot, but filled with actual Italian-Americans from Jersey smoking big cigars while walking with their big poofy wives. These were outnumbered by the tourists. We shared overpriced gelati and a stale sfaghiatelle (no idea how to spell that) at a corner cafe that was clerked by Latinos.

The carousel in Prospect Park is reopening later than they announced; come back in a couple of weeks.

Today, after S and S had to leave to catch a bus to Medieval Times (there's one in Northern New Jersey, to my horror) to celebrate my cousin's ninth birthday, I did a little walking around the Slope. I spent too much time at the excellent used clothing store on fifth, beacon's closet, where I bought a Michael Stars shirt (I'm starting to pay attention to labels, which is bad) and a Mossino (but probably from Target) miniskirt and Old Navy (I'm no snob) low-rise lightweight denim jeans. All for thirty bucks.This purchase was to make up for the hour-plus S and I spent in a crowded and unruly H&M in Manhattan without buying anything. When we finally slinked out we were confronted by S, who had been waiting for us outside, dying of boredom. We felt like guilty failures with a shopping compulsion. So I had to "succeed" the next day by finding something I wanted to buy. Fucked up, I know.

Anyway, on the Simpsons tonight, Marge and Homer go to Medieval Times! They were probably there while my family was there. This must mean something, right? The stars are aligned, or my karma has peaked, or whatever.

Okay. More later.

Donald Rumsfeld moonlights as a sex advice columnist for Esquire! He's the coolest. Here's a sample:

Dear Secretary Rumsfeld: My wife wants me to talk dirty when we make love, but I've never been able to do it. Any advice?
Joel Brennan, Syracuse, New York

Secretary Rumsfeld: Listen, anybody that can talk clean can talk dirty. Dirty talk is just like normal talk, except dirty. Your wife wants dirty talk, so give her dirty talk. Something like, "Those breasts are first-rate," or "I am going to give you a darned good orgasm," or, if she likes the rough stuff, "I'll tell you this, I am about to give you the business and I don't want to hear any guff about it."

There's a new Get Your War On page up. I like this one, as it sums to all up quite succinctly:

Hoo boy - there's a new Jim Woodring toy out. I kind of love it, though for $40, it should be, like, a foot tall and hand-painted. Instead it's 5 inches high and made of vinyl. Still, it's very nice:



The jiva thingy is sitting on a base in the pic, and you can remove it, rotate it, hang it, etc.

In other news, I made crab rangoon out of the leftover wonton wrappers I'd bought. I used about a one-to-one ratio of real crab (from a can; I'm not crazy) and neusfatel cheese (instead of cream cheese). Mixed that up with some chopped scallions, deep fry the hell out of 'em, and you have a heavenly, faux-Polynesian delight. They went over very well in my house; between the four of us we ate all 20.

More explanation of the local Shape Note singing group (snipped from an email I just wrote to a friend): I like it a lot. Most of the songs are religious but the vibe of the group is purely secular. And some of the songs are great, with messages like "I don't care how crappy my life is, when I die I'm gonna live in a totally awesome mansion and hang out with Jesus" and "you assholes in the church are really fucking things up for the little people" and "I don't know, things haven't been going well for me, and my faith in God is wavering, so I guess I'll sing a song about it" and "my friend is dead, but that's cool, because now she's up in heaven where all the fun happens."

Just, next time, no big pile of greasy food right before trying to sing.

You may be wondering what I've been doing these past few days. Probably not, but regardless, here's what I've been doing:

working on sewing a simple dress made with a vintage 1960s pattern and vintage fabric. put in and took out the zipper twice; decided third try was good enough. next step is to sew the sides together

sewing a new curtain for the window in the back door. it looks nice

putting stuff on ebay and mailing out a couple of things I sold

watching The Daily Show

making steamed jade dumplings (asparagus, water chestnuts, scallions, ginger, garlic, in won ton wrappers). they were delicious. next time I'll try making shu mai

deciding to cook remaining dumplings in oil the next day, which makes them way too oily and slimy; going to Sacred Harp sing right after; feeling like I'm gonna vomit while belting out the big notes; leaving the sing at the mid-way break to go home and watch 24.

watching After Hours and Brain Candy for the second or third times

that's pretty much it. Not really any socializing or leaving the house much. I did get the newest White Stripes, which I've listened to once and liked. I need multiple listens to see if I'll love it. Sure, there can be initial chemistry, and that's great, but it's more important to make a connection. I hope to continue my journey with Elephant and see where it takes us.

(I've also been reading some reality show recaps on Television Without Pity.)

I had sucha boring, stupefying weekend that I couldn't even blog yesterday. It did snow last night, but only about three inches.

Why the hell is it so hard to find an apartment that allows dogs? I live in a semi-rural area, and I see dogs everywhere. As a dog-owner, I expect to keep my dog in line, to train it not to bark when I'm away, and to be housebroken and all of that. She's a fairly good houseguest, more than many humans. I can pay the rent, and a damage deposit. So why not rent to me? Is it some uptight Yankee thing of avoiding potential conflict? Because it seems easier to find a dog-friendly apartment in Brooklyn than it is here, and that makes no sense at all.

Grrr.

Zardoz. This one's for my friend Philip.

A prescient Friday Five.

1. How many houses/apartments have you lived in throughout your life? Pre-College? My family lived in one house from (my) age 2 until after I graduated college. After college, on my own? 4 apartments and one house.

2. Which was your favorite and why? There are things I liked about most of the apres-college places, except for number two (crazy old landlady living below me, paper-thin walls, poor heat, blown fuses). I liked my place on Lyman Rd. a lot: It's a quiet street, I could walk to town, I had two huge, tall, sunny rooms, and I lived alone for the first (and only, so far) time.

3. Do you find moving house more exciting or stressful? Why? Stressful, mostly, because packing is an enorrmous job. I tend to take the "opportunity" to sort through and shed some of my crap, which takes me many hours. But once all of my stuff is at the new place I really enjoy unpacking and setting everything up.

4. What's more important, location or price? Well, I have no choice but to consider the cost, but location is muy importante.

5. What features does your dream house have (pool, spa bath, big yard, etc.)? Big yard or a proximity to wilderness; a garden (both vegetable and flower); quietude. It must not be too far from town. A nice-looking fenced-in area for my dog. A small circular room in a tower, with windows everywhere, is a must. A messy craft/sewing/art-making area. Big sunny common room for friends to visit.

See? For example, here's David Cross's Nerve.com Personal. I think if I ever went on a date with him, I'd spend the entire time peeing myself laughing. But maybe that's putting too much pressure on him. And my bladder! Haw!
EDIT: The link appears to have been changed or deleted. Probably he was getting too much mail, or something. His user name was "the_good_doctor" if you want to do further prodding.

I apologize to my loyal readers for the radio silence. The shit is hitting the fan over here in my private life. Hopefully things will be back to normal soon and I can turn my attention, for a little while, to other things, things I can share with you all.

The New Yorker This is an amazing article that shows what an insane, psychotic, war-crazed monster Rumsfeld is. Smoke is coming out of my ears. Read at your own risk.

Portrait of a very, very bad day. Alternate title: "I hate it when that happens!"

From Imagery From the History of Medicine, which also has some odd anatomic-pornographic sketches by DaVinci.

This is info about the Futurama episode I saw last night; scroll down to "external references" to see the incredible number of Star Trek nods they shoved into a 22-minute episode.

I had a perfect rainy cold Sunday yesterday. I got up late, ate some pancakes P generously made for us, put a few things on eBay (clothes and a midi sequencer of P's), helped T with one of those annoying time-consuming projects that take forever and are of dubious educational value (in this case, a Jeopardy gameboard for a trivia quiz about Lewis and Clark), and I didn't leave the house until around 10 p.m., when I went to 7-11 and bought some ice cream novelties for everyone (chocolate eclair bars, oh baby). We also watched Goodfellas, and my handyman pal came over to assess our crumbling bathroom situation. Next weekend he's gonna do the brunt of the work. We will attempt to help.

The war thing is just incredibly depressing and filled with gray areas. I tend to see both sides of everything - the opposite of Noam Chomsky, I guess (I read most of the long profile of him in the recent New Yorker), who seems to believe in absolute truth.

Got free Indian food at work for lunch and now I'm like an overfilled balloon (which reminds me - watched Futurama last night on Cartoon Network, and it was a hilarious episode about Star Trek... I have to start looking out for airings of it, it's really growing on me). More later...

the friday five 1. What was your most memorable moment from the last week?
Walking up the road from the sugar house in Ashfield, looking at the plastic tubes connecting all of the maple trees and watching bubbles of sap slowly make their way downhill.

2. What one person touched your life this week? Avani, who is queen of the sincere pep talks. Thank you, avi!

3. How have you helped someone this week? I helped T twice with tricky homework. I know, it's probably not enough. But this week totally flew by.

4. What one thing do you need to get done by this time next week? Try to sell books to Raven and some unwwanted, vintagesque clothes to one of the places in town. I keep putting this off.

5. What one thing will you do over the next seven days to make your world a better place? My personal world? I dunno... Keep showing the love to my sorta-step-kids. Be kind to everyone. That's what I always try to do. I can't help the world outside of mine, though. I am feeling defeated in that regard.

Yes, it looks like I have another auction up, this time for a weird old eBay item 2519331772 (Ends Apr-03-03 19:51:46 PST ) - apothecary case. I don't know much about it; got it at an auction with a bunch of other crap, $15 for the pile. Anyway, take a look, it's kind of cool.

Kim Jong Il (the illmatic)'s LiveJournal

This is so great. Thanks to Scott for linking me up, yo.

Here's the track listing for The Worst Mix CD Ever Created. It's good, but I prefer Ted Barlows (in the comments section). But here's mine:

We Built This City - Starship
Mony Mony - Billy Idol
It's My Life - Bon Jovi
Dynamo Hum - Frank Zappa
Bitch - Meredith Brooks
Take it to the Limit - the Eagles
Kokomo- Beach Boys
Rhythm of the Night - DeBarge
Groovy Kind of Love - Phil Collins
I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston
It's Been a While - Staind
The Sign - Ace of Base
All That She Wants - Ace of Base
Don't Want to Miss a Thing - Aerosmith
She Bangs - Ricky Martin
Lady in Red - Chris Deburgh

A sure sign of spring - there are three Tag Sales posted in the classifieds today. Soon I'll be doing one of my own.

P has been slowly raking up the flattened piles of leaves from the lawn. The newly-exposed grass is all yellowed and twisted. It will do fine, however.

Not much to say today. Lots of thinking about my future. I fluctuate between feeling hopeful and excited, to feeling guilty and loathesome, to feeling scared and overwhelmed.

And then there's the war, which isn't going well. The Iraqis are defending their country - imagine that! All we said was we'd come in, take over, and change almost everything about their way of life; why aren't they greeting us with open arms? And they're being crafty, dressing as civilians and pretending to surrender, only to come out guns ablaze. So unfair!

McSweeney's has up an internet memorial of what sounds like an incredible unique woman, Amanda Davis, an author who is as close to perfect as I'd ever want to be. She just sounds amazing and cool and the kind of person I'd latch onto to try to absorb some of their energy and creativity and courage and fun. But I'd probably think I wasn't cool enough to know her. My life's goal: To assume I am cool enough. And to be more like Amanda Davis. Read about her here.

Hi. I'm all sore today because I did yard work Sunday. Not snow removal, but actual touching of dirt and plant matter, mainly clearing the way for my perennials to grow but also fluffing up my poor matted-down lawn. I also took down the Christmas lights from the front yard. It was satisfying in the extreme. I could have kept going but I would have really hurt my back (it already hurts plenty).

I went to a new-to-me sugar shack, the South Face Farm in Ashfield. My city-mouse sister and brother-in-law (okay, mainly the b-i-l) didn't really understand the concept. Why are we driving way out here? And waiting almost two hours for a table? They're just pancakes, right? Nothing extraordinary about them? Instead of waiting for a table, we could have driven out here, bought a thing of syrup, driven back to town and gotten pancakes of similar quality at Miss Flo's or Look restaurant, right?

Well. You aren't supposed to ask those kinds of questions. It's the whole experience of the thing. You have to wait in order to make it seem like something really special. And the syrup is amazingly fresh and still warm. And it's very pretty out there. True, next time I'll just go later and not at peak (10:30) brunch time. But I don't regret it. The city mice, though, said they'd never do it again, though they admitted they were glad they came.

The Oscars last night were possibly the funniest I've seen. Steve Martin is my hero. Thank God the terminally-unfunny Whoopi wasn't hosting, because then the terrorists would have won (that joke's so old it has dust on it, but still). I felt bad and embarrassed for Michael Moore; though I agree in principle with what he said, he sure picked a stupid time and place to say it. Glad he won, though. And Spirited Away got best animated film, which means it might have a chance of rerelease in theaters now (though the DVD is due out very soon, so maybe not). I was happy Chris Cooper won for Adaptation, and his honest reaction (overwhelmed, teary, humble) and non-Hollywood wife were beautiful.
What wasn't so great? Chicago, which I haven't seen but agree with the assessment that the film is like watching the popular girls hog the karaoke machine. They could have had real, non-movie-star people in those roles, people who had been singing and dancing on stage their entire lives. Every time I see Renee Zellwegger she looks stranger and stranger. She has this odd, squinty face and pursed, crooked mouth. You can't tell if she's smiling or frowning. I have no reason to dislike her (the way I dislike, say, John Travolta) so I wish she'd just relax. Michael Douglas/Kirk Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones gross me out. When the Douglases smugly announced the winner for best picture (Chicago), which starred the young woman bearing the next generation of the Douglas superstar line, I wanted to throw up. I did like the acknowlegement of Kirk's stroke-induced speech difficulties, though.

On the docket this week: Writing workshop tonight, shape-note singing tomorrow night, calling a roofer this week and possibly getting work started on the bathroom, and The Fawns CD-release party this weekend. Woo!

the friday five

1. If you had the chance to meet someone you've never met, from the past or present, who would it be? My Great-Grandmother who died in a mental institution in the 1920s or 30s.

2. If you had to live in a different century, past or future, which would it be? All of the previous ones have kind of sucked. Even if you say some really awesome time of peace and creativity like "the Renaissance" you have to deal with the lack of any proper medical care, sanitation, etc. I prefer to not have any say about what century I live in, and once I'm there I'll try to deal with the good and the bad.

3. If you had to move anywhere else on Earth, where would it be? New Zealand. I've heard great things.

4. If you had to be a fictional character, who would it be? I'd be the main woman in A Room with a View (the book - I don't want to be Helena Bonham Carter). Which I guess actually answers my century question.

5. If you had to live with having someone else's face as your own for the rest of your life, whose would it be? This question is really "Who do you think is the prettiest ever?" I like the dark-eyed exotic look, so I'll say Salma Hayek. J-Lo is very pretty too. But I'm just, I'm just Debl from the block.

Fan Checks, Inc. These are awesome; you can get personal checks with The Who on them. The other bands this company offers? Not so much. But who cares.

(courtesy of gawker.com)

This is several days old, but I love it. An essay about the logic of this war, from the NPR website.

PETER FREUNDLICH:
All right, let me see if I understand the logic of this correctly. We are going to ignore the United Nations in order to make clear to Saddam Hussein that the United Nations cannot be ignored. We're going to wage war to preserve the UN's ability to avert war. The paramount principle is that the UN's word must be taken seriously, and if we have to subvert its word to guarantee that it is, then by gum, we will. Peace is too important not to take up arms to defend. Am I getting this right?
Further, if the only way to bring democracy to Iraq is to vitiate the democracy of the Security Council, then we are honor-bound to do that too, because democracy, as we define it, is too important to be stopped by a little thing like democracy as they define it.
Also, in dealing with a man who brooks no dissension at home, we cannot afford dissension among ourselves. We must speak with one voice against Saddam Hussein's failure to allow opposing voices to be heard. We are sending our gathered might to the Persian Gulf to make the point that might does not make right, as Saddam Hussein seems to think it does. And we are twisting the arms of the opposition until it agrees to let us oust a regime that twists the arms of the opposition. We cannot leave in power a dictator who ignores his own people. And if our people, and people elsewhere in the world, fail to understand that, then we have no choice but to ignore them.
Listen. Don't misunderstand. I think it is a good thing that the members of the Bush administration seem to have been reading Lewis Carroll. I only wish someone had pointed out that "Alice in Wonderland" and "Through the Looking Glass" are meditations on paradox and puzzle and illogic and on the strangeness of things, not templates for foreign policy. It is amusing for the Mad Hatter to say something like, `We must make war on him because he is a threat to peace,' but not amusing for someone who actually commands an army to say that.
As a collector of laughable arguments, I'd be enjoying all this were it not for the fact that I know--we all know--that lives are going to be lost in what amounts to a freak, circular reasoning accident.

Parabounce: Airworld of Adventures Oh my, I really want one of these. In my flying dreams, my flight is more like large extended leaps instead of smooth steady flying, so this parabounce thing would be pretty damn close.

I'm wearing the tight pants today, except they don't feel too tight because I don't have to wear long underwear! Everything is soft and melty today and that is very good. The snow has almost vanished enough to reveal the piles of rotting leaves we left behind last fall. We aren't the only ones in the neighborhood who failed to get their leaves up before the first snowfall, though, so I don't feel like a suburban leper.

Musicians United to Win Without War This might be old news, but here's a list of musicians who are publicly against the war. there are artists from an incredibly wide range of genres - it's very heartening. And I need all I can get of that today. I keep thinking about what's going to happen and feeling like an angry clenched fist, but then I realize how powerless I am and I loosen up and just get sad. There are so many things wrong with what's happening Ñ the one that drives me the most insane is Bush saying Iraq is an imminent threat, and furthering the lie that they had anything at all to do with 9-11, when not a single hijacker was Iraqi Ñ if I try to think too deeply about it my head starts spinning. This is a dark day.

However. Even though clearly the international peace protests didn't change minds in the White House, I'm feeling even more strongly that I need to become more active. The very least I can do is stand up and be counted. And I'd rather do that little tiny thing than nothing at all.

‘Dark Orange’
Apparently once we go to war the country will automatically go to "dark orange," sort of a midway between orange (high probability of terrorist attack) and red (imminent attack likely). From the article linked above:

[begin excerpt] The impetus for the higher security levels comes from a stream of CIA and FBI intelligence reports for the past six months warning that Saddam Hussein is most likely to try an attack against the United States after an American invasion. In a closed-door Oct. 2, 2002, report to the Senate Intelligence Committee, later declassified, the CIA concluded that while Baghdad was drawing a line against going after U.S. targets directly, that would immediately change once an invasion began. The report concluded that "Saddam might decide that the extreme step of assisting Islamist terrorists (to use unconventional weapons to attack) the United States would be his last chance to exact vengeance by taking a larger number of victims with him." Asked that day on the likelihood of Saddam doing this, CIA Director Tenet replied: "Pretty high, in my view." More recently, the CIA has been warning about the possibility of terrorist attacks on U.S. troops abroad and Mideast oil fields. [end excerpt]

Why are we doing this war thing, again? We're like idiot children poking a hornet's nest to see what will happen.

I went to the Northampton anti-war candlelight vigil last night, not because I think it will do anything to change the inevitable war we're going to start probably today, but for myself to at the very least confirm that many, many people agree with me. It was pretty with all the candles, and the crowd was huge; we stretched up both sides of Main Street. But, you know, a fat lot of good that will do. After millions and millions of people demonstrating around the world against this war have been brushed off without a moment's contemplation by the administration, I know we can't make a difference.

On Saturday Night Live last night there was a skit that had a character by Rachel Dratch in it; she played one of her painfully nerdy, socially inept, unattractive but well-meaning women. She's very funny at it; all I have to do is look at her with her big goofy smile and the slightly insane head-tremble and I start laughing. When asked to describe what sorts of things she liked to do, she said something like "Well, I enjoy buying things on eBay, watching foreign films, and ['pet my cat' or something equally pathetic-sounding]." Whatever it was, it was hilariously close to what I could say about myself, though I'd never tell a stranger that one of the things I "like to do" is "buy things on eBay." Like it's a hobby or something. Because to me, shopping is AN INCREDIBLY SERIOUS WAY OF LIFE.

Anyway, I hope no-one out there sees me as a crazy Rachel Dratch lady. I think I'm too sarcastic and self-aware and sassy (and sexy, smooth, slim, schooled, soft, sophisticated, and sensual) to be her. Alliteration is fun.

It is so warm out (or at least "not cold") that we have a couple of windows open. It's really not warm enough for that, but the lack of spring has made us crazy. In our neighborhood people are out riding bikes and kids are playing and, mainly, snow is melting, albeit very slowly. We're gonna have one hell of a mud season. I don't care! Bring it on!!

I emailed my mom some questions for a piece for class I'm trying to write (and failing - I'm really stuck) about twins. From my mom:

"One odd twin fact I'll add. I warped your brains for most of your third
year trying to toilet train you guys. Nothing. Then, in April, in a single
day, you decided this would be a good idea. You switched from diapers to
panties and never went back. Sarah was unmoved by this example for three
months. From April to July, Sarah watched you use a pottie, day and night,
without fail. Then in one day in July, Sarah decided to convert. She also
did it in a day."

Ha ha! In your face, Sarah!

eBay item 3505956011 (Ends Mar-16-03 13:04:25 PST ) - Lot of 18 PULP paperbacks! romance,mystery ! Dude, this is a fuckin' bargain yet noone has bid on it. 18 books! 50 cents a book! I paid two dollars each for many of these. Come on! I don't even expect to break even, but someone out there has got to see how great this is.

Speaking of old books, my favorite used bookstore is having a sale this weekend Ñ I think it's 35% off everything. The store is Troubadour Books (on Rt. 5 in North Hatfield), and a postcard advertises it as a "Help Cheer Me Up - I'm Depressed" sale. You're supposed to bring flowers or a joke for the owner. He's always cut me a nice deal for the sleazy pulp paperbacks I favor, so please go visit his establishment this weekend.

I was upbraided (what does that even mean?) last night for not blogging yesterday. Now that I've been linked on the BlogBeat three times I've got a rep to uphold or something.

I did go to the Tuesday night shape-note singing thing. It's like learning another language, this note-reading thing, and even though this system of reading music was made for the unlearned Puritan masses, I haven't been able to totally get the hang of it yet. I was confident in the beginning of the Tuesday meeting but the songs quickly became more complex. I hope I didn't annoy people too much with my bad notes. Because of the high volume, it's hard to hear yourself sing - like singing in a club with insufficient monitors. You can hear your neighbors very loudly but you can only hear yourself when you've either done something wrong or are singing so loudly that if you DO do something wrong, everyone in the room will hear it. Anyway. I enjoyed it and will try to come again.

We have a brand-new ventilation fan in our bathroom. It works like a charm; I had it on during my 10-minute shower this morning and the mirror didn't even fog up. I feel like such a grown-up, getting things like this done - I called the guy, told him what I wanted, and now will pay him for his services. I'm all responsible and shit.

Though not all THAT responsible. I took A and T to the mall last night. We hit American Eagle (which was all somewhat conservative preppy clothing when I was a teenager; now it's cool and sexy) and Express. AE puts their initials on everything, which I hate. But their spring line has a lot of nice almost hippy-ish stuff, like soft A-line knee-length skirts. I tried on some on-sale pants but they were too low-rise for me; I don't really mind wearing those but I feel too old for the style. I did, however, get a fruit-themed tank top and panty set. I couldn't help it, it's adorable and I feel adorable wearing it. At Express the kids both got these flirty, kind of tight miniskirts. It looked good on the older one but it looked vaguely too mature for the younger one (T). I'm not sure why. A and T have similar bodies at this point - they're both very curvy. I didn't try to stop T, however; it's her decision, and she'll learn from experience the pros and cons of wearing sexy clothing. She's smart and sassy, maybe she'll work it, in a good way.

French Fries Get New Name in Congress This makes me want to throw up. Sure, some hick diner in North Carolina can change the name of their fries, I don't give a shit - but our ELECTED OFFICIALS are spending their time (and our tax money) to do the equivalent of "I'm rubber, you're glue." Except Congress is being more immature.

Yo, help a girl out and bid on this bunch of very cool old paperbacks. Thanks.

Sacred Harp Singing FAQ This is a better Sacred Harp website than the one I linked below, if you want more info.

Also - I got sniped, horribly, in an eBay auction last night for some very cute Fluevog loafers I've never seen before. I was the high bidder 45 seconds before the auction was to end, and the next time I refreshed my page there had been four more bids and I was the loser! Fuckin' snipers! I was heartbroken, until I got ahold of myself - jesus, it's only a pair of shoes which probably wouldn't fit me properly anyway. But still. Because of it, I signed up for a sniping service, thereby ensuring that the snipe circle be unbroken.

Saw something horrible on the way to work today. On the part of Rte. 10 between E'ton and N'ton where it goes 50 mph, in the middle of my lane, someone had hit a deer. A full-grown doe. She was lying on her side with her head up, still very much alive, but her body was broken, some guts spilling out. She wasn't struggling, just looking around, stunned. The car that hit her had stopped and there was a police car there, and everyone was just standing around. I wanted the cop to shoot the deer to put it out of its misery. What were they waiting for? Animal Control, or something. Anyway. A horrible way to begin the week.

I had a good weekend. I did some art, watched a couple of Sopranos, went out to a bar and ate peanuts. On Sunday I went to the Western Mass Sacred Harp convention - part of two days of shape note singing. It was very casual, people were invited to drop in, and it was free, so I went. (Months ago, over at Dan Richardson's house, I had heard a recording of the local Sacred Harp group. It was loud and powerful - almost shouting, but tunefully - and had elaborate harmonies. It was beautiful and sad and uplifting all at once.) The crowd was lively and had a wide range of ages. There were plenty of middle-aged ladies in long skirts and men in sweater vests, but there were also a bunch of people my age, including some who were all artsy-looking in black jeans and purple hair. Encouraging. I sat in the alto side of in the huge open square and tried to figure out how to sing along with my borrowed songbook. The notes are divided into four shapes. Songs are referred to by page number only. Someone would get up, shout a number, and start the first note and the rhythm. Then the group would go through the entire song just using the names of the notes: fa, sol, la, mi, and each of the four parts were, of course, singing different notes, so it sounds kind of ridiculous and cacaphonous - about 200 adults singing at the tops of their lungs "la la la meeee so so sol mi la so la" overlapping each other. Then once the tune is gone through, the song is sung with words. The run-through was extremely helpful; I'm good at picking up melodies quickly, so I was able to follow and sing along to most of the songs, though I definitely hit some off-notes. Anyway. I might try going to the local weekly "sing" on Tuesday. I think it would be good for me on many levels.

This snow makes me want to hit people. We're getting 3 to 7 inches. There's at least 3 or 4 on my car out in the office lot right now. I'm beyond stir-crazy and cabin fever to actually, really, it's-not-funny-anymore psychosis.

Also, go read my fun dream I had last night at Your Own Rockumentary discussion room place. I kept it short.

One more thing: I attempted to watch my tape of "24" last night, but the entire program was somehow without any sound. I had also taped a show right before it on a different channel, and the sound was fine. So either Fox is fucking with me, or some weird VCR thing happened. Anyway, T and I watched the whole episode with the "mute" on so we could see the closed captioning. I read much of the show aloud which added some extra drama and interactivity to the experience. But I really would have loved to hear the big bomb go boom. Dammit.

Best. Photo. Ever.

Actual caption: Children crawl through a 40-foot long model of a colon in Washington, March 5, 2003, part of an exhibit on Colorectal Cancer. Wednesday marked the start of a nationwide tour to promote a better understanding of Colorectal Cancer, during National Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month.
Photo by John Harrington

[link courtesy of bartcop.com]

Just when you think our backwards country can't get any weirder...

Peace T-shirt leads to man's arrest

March 4 -- Roger and Stephen Downs had these shirts made at Crossgates Mall, but Stephen Downs was arrested when he refused to take his off and leave the mall. Lindsay Cohen reports.

ALBANY, N.Y., March 4 - A Selkirk man says he was arrested Monday for expressing his objection to possible war with Iraq at Crossgates Mall. He says all he did was wear a T-shirt bearing a message of peace, which he actually purchased in the mall.

STEPHEN DOWNS AND his son, Roger Downs, each had a pro-peace shirt made Monday night. One shirt simply said "Let Inspections Work" on one side and "No War With Iraq" on the other. The other shirt said "Give Peace A Chance" on the front and "Peace On Earth" on the back.??The men paid about $23 for each of the shirts and then wore them in the mall.
"We were just shopping. We were wearing these T-shirts. We weren't handing out leaflets, we weren't saying anything," Roger Downs recalled.
They may not have been saying anything, but they were creating enough of a disturbance to one employee, who called security.
Security asked Downs and his son to remove their shirts. Roger Downs complied, but when Stephen Downs wouldn't, he was told to leave the mall. When he refused, he was arrested.
"This struck me as a powerful way of expressing myself. I wanted to do something peaceful," he said.
Roger Downs says he is proud of his father.
"I'm impressed that he's refused to have his civil rights violated," Roger Downs said.
New York Civil Liberties Union President Stephen Gottlieb says he can't believe the peaceful T-shirts could lead to Downs' arrest.
"We believe, most of us, in the Bill of Rights, and we believe that protects the freedom to speak. Well, if there's a freedom of speech, where do we get to do it?" Gottlieb asked.
Gottlieb says he believes there is a law protecting peoples' rights to free speech, even in shopping malls.
Guilderland police say they arrested Downs because he refused to leave private property. That, they say, is trespassing.
Representatives for Crossgates did not return calls for comment Tuesday.
Signs posted at entrances to the mall say that "wearing of apparel... likely to provoke disturbances... is prohibited" at the mall.

Here's Monday blog on Tuesday. It was very windy Sunday night, so windy that the plastic on the window in our bedroom came unstuck a little, and was crackling and snapping loudly like a noisy, crinkly plastic bag. By 2:00 a.m., after trying to retape the thing to no avail, I told P, "If I'm still awake in half an hour I'm ripping that thing down."

P: No, don't. You do and it'll be 10 degrees colder in here.

Me: I don't care!

Ten minutes pass. Flippity flappity flippity flappity flippity flappity.

P: All right, rip it down.

Me: Really? Yes!!

I ripped it down and it only got a little colder. I like sleeping in a cold room, as long as I'm well-blanketed. Yesterday I installed another plastic cover, but this one seems a little thinner and cheaper. Maybe someday spring will come and we can be plastic-free.


Also this weekend I watched the first 10 episodes of The Sopranos. One of the first things I said at work the next day was "What the fuck is with that?" without even thinking about the inappropriate cursing. Luckily the person I was talking to agreed with me that whatever it was was, indeed, fucked up.

I also did a little sorting, clearing my computer desk so I could actually see wood again. I went through my books and I'm getting rid of about 15 pulp romance books (I still probably have 30 top ones). I think I'll try selling them as a lot on eBay, because it's not worth the time to do them individually. Does anyone out there want them? Name your price.