When I shortly reveal my holiday schedule, you will forgive me for not posting sooner. I've been like Rip Van Winkle since 9am on Christmas day. But hopefully my narcolepsy will be forgiven eventually.

The one nice thing about being so busy is that I haven't had time to read about politics. But then I come across this article and realize that it's because no one is writing about politics.

I'll leave you with my comment to the intrepid Mr. Colvin, which I am quite sure will not be published in the interest of keeping the public's right to worship intact.

Sweet Weeping Willow. Could Mr. Colvin raise his loins any higher in the direction of Obama's face?

This is bad for a high school girl, but for a professional journalist? I'm cringing for him.

If he wants to write about a bad-ass whom he could never hope to be, he should write about a marine, not this ivory-towered poseur with less street cred than Barry Goldwater.

Hope Everyone Had A Great Holiday. Will Post More Upon Return From Houston.

Make No Mistake. They're Trying To Take Over The World.

Chappy Chanukah!

Bustin' Out All Over

To make up for my lack of posting, I have here a photograph of my sisters and I at our other sister's wedding.  It was the end of a long night.

I'd love to post something. I really would. But I'm drowning in ass. I explain later.

School Daze

I really do get caught up in my work at school, so sometimes I forget just who I'm going to school with.

One of my classmates, oh, I'll call him Hector, wandered into class the other day, an hour late, completely disheveled, and walking very slowly. He asked if the instructor was around. Someone said he stepped out for awhile. Hector just stood there and finally someone asked him if he was sick.

"Naw, man," said Hector looking pale.

"You don't look too good."

"I spent the weekend in the hospital," said the rumpled Hector.

"Did you have surgery?"

"Naw, man," said the increasingly vacant Hector.

"So WHAT HAPPENED?" The classmate's curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"Oh, I got stabbed, man," said Hector returning to Earth briefly.

"How the hell did you get stabbed?" asked the curious classmate.

"I was hanging out with this girl and her ex-boyfriend came over. You know how shit like that goes down."

Now I don't know about any of you, but I really don't know how shit like that goes down. No human being on earth seems worth the stabbing or the receiving of the stabbing. However, 3/4 of my classmates were nodding their heads sagely.

And then that evening, I was talking with my group for the Starbuck's project, prattling on about various ideas. Finally, I stopped and asked if anyone else had something to say.

I was stared at blankly for a few seconds, and one of them says, "Well, what I think we need to do is find a way to sell the product."

The other one offered his girlfriend up as a prop - a sexy prop - for the photo shoots.

Tears came into my eyes momentarily and I'm still not sure whether it was from mirth or frustration.

I'm doomed.

Appeal to Cleverness

For one of my classes, I have to do an ad campaign for Starbucks.  We're supposed to do 3 magazine ads, 3 billboards, and 1 direct mail piece.  This is a group project and the two guys I'm paired with can draw very nicely, but are idiots.  I hate putting it so bluntly, but there isn't time to be nice.  Anyway, I've been put in charge of the group, which means my grade will be affected more if it turns out crappy.  And this has me very, very worried.  I don't foresee being able to brainstorm with my group members, so I'm resorting to my good friends in the Blogland.

My instructor really likes sexy (bordering on risque)/funny, which is good because that amuses me too.  But Starbucks, to me, is neither sexy nor funny.  To me, Starbucks is expensive and pretentious - two nearly unforgivable qualities for advertising.  Plus, they don't really have any previous ad campaigns to work from, except some deadly serious tv commercials.

So I need a clever theme that I can carry through 7 different ads.  It doesn't have to be sexy, just clever.  Starbucks is desperately in need of some kind of retooling with people spending less on things like overpriced coffee, so maybe there's a crack in the door there.  

Any ideas would be most humbly and gratefully accepted.  The best I can do by way of reward, is post the final project and write your name in blazing color on my blog.

I Feel Rather As If The Turkey Stuffed Me.

Ok, Trash, ok.

So all my best laid plans were for naught.  I meant to give Douchebag his note back on Wednesday, but my class got our early and I wanted to get home, so I kept the note in my pocket and decided to give it to him when I got back from Houston.  Alas, and to make a long story short, I washed the jeans with the note in the pocket and it is now but a soggy, shredded memory.

So now it's on to plan B which is to ignore completely.  I can do.  And if he brings it up again, I'm going to point at his crotch, snicker, and say "I don't think so, jefe."

Problem solved.  Except that I might get my tongue cut out in the parking lot.

Thanksgiving went off with only one major psychotic episode involving the use of my grandfather's car, which is probably a record.  One good thing about having a million sisters is that one, tiny lesbian girlfriend goes virtually unnoticed.  She's a quiet little thing and just for that I like her.  Probably better than most of my sisters.

Anyway, there is more, but it isn't very interesting and I have major shit due tomorrow, so I will say adieu for now.

Okay.  I'm going with Tater's suggestion.  I'm going to write something brief as in "no, and please don't bring this up again. Ever." on it and give it to him.  That way I've given everything back to him and he knows there is no question lingering.  I get what people are saying about ignoring him completely, but it isn't a large school, I will definitely have him in other classes, and he would be very difficult to avoid.  Also he was a little too persistent to ignore and I really want to avoid any further conversation.  It was intensely embarrassing.

I just love blogging.  You gain access to such clear thinkers, even if you do have to wade through mounds of troll droppings sometimes.

So enough of that.

What is everyone doing for the holidays?  We are going to my mom's house and my "lesbian" sister is bringing her "girlfriend" whom she will be introducing as her "roommate."  

*whine* I don't waaanna go home!!!  I wanna stay in New Town with my sexy American boyfriend and make my own stuffing and cranberry sauce and turkey.  */whine*

Anyway, I am going to finish my logo projects and post them when I'm done.  I'm doing one for the Ice Hotel in Scandinavia, which is the coolest thing ever.  I can't wait to show off that one.

The *Heart* Letter

Men are so frickin' weird. I really think they would molest a wasps' nest covered in broken glass and lemon slices if it looked like it had boobs.

Here's a letter I got from one of my classmates. After coming on to me repeatedly tonight in spite of my gentle, yet consistent negativity, he followed me out of class as I was leaving and gave me this note (spelling and grammar all his):

Zelda,

Hey thanks for talking to me . Just to let you know I wouldn't want to cross no lines

But maybe a little flirtation. I've always found you attractive and I know you situation.

But if you ever become Free let me know. Hope we can talk as friends and just a little Flirting wouldn't Hurt.

well you can answer me back or throw this away. well my email is ---------@-----.com

ok.

I think you are sweet, too Very sexy & Hot. your man is lucky.

Mmmm. Honestly I would love to Be with you. I don't think you can Image what I'm thinking :-) well talk to you later.

Classmate

P.S. Would I Have a chance?

And he put a heart around the word 'love'.  

I told Jethro because we promised to tell each other shit like this, and I gave him the letter. Then I ran away and hid my head under the pillows in our room while he read it and laughed his ass off.

I'm not quite sure what to say. It goes against my nature to be harsh or cruel directly to someone's face or even in a letter back to them, mostly because I am rather pathetically grateful that anyone finds me attractive enough to write a cheesy letter to.

Anyway, I'm emailing him back tomorrow and here's what I have so far:

Classmate,

I read your letter and I would never consider the idea. If I wasn't clear about this at school, I'm very sorry and I'm glad for a chance to be direct. I am deeply in love with my husband and my relationship with him means everything in the world to me. There is no one on this earth that would make me put it in danger. You're a nice man, but I know you have a wife and children and I'm sure they need you the same as I need my husband, and my daughters need their father. I don't mind being friends and colleagues, but even a flirtation would be out of the question. I wish nothing but good for you, but there is no good that would ever come of what you suggest, for you or for me.

May God bless and keep you always.

Zelda

I think this is pretty unequivocal without being unnecessarily mean. I think mentioning God might help too. He has a habit of putting somewhat of a damper on sexual fantasy. Maybe it's a little cowardly, but sometimes God comes in handy.

Now I'm just wondering if it isn't too pious/arrogant/overly thoughtful a response to someone who just considers me a warm hole.

I guess I don't care. I'm spelling it out in no uncertain terms.  

And I'm not just a warm hole.  

Sometimes I get really frickin' cold.

Anyway, feedback would be appreciated, but it will have to be quick because I'm going to send it tomorrow.

Where I Discuss Vibrators and Design. And Capitalism.

I finally managed to buy a new vibrator after the old one flamed out so grotesquely.  I think it's telling and rather sad that I actually took note of the package design before I took note of the product.  Learning about design makes you see things differently.  I don't know if I like it.  I was happy just being brainwashed like everyone else.  And that sounds far more arrogant than I mean it.

But I refuse to look at what I'm doing as brainwashing.  Yes, ultimately it's about trying to entice someone to buy a product.  But there is no way for a superior product to go up against its old, established competition unless they have some good advertising.  And that means pretty pictures.  And that's the fun part.  Really, the capitalism is a lot of fun.

Anyway, I'm swamped with procrastinating on my school projects and carting the kids everywhere.  And the house really needs a thorough cleaning especially because Jethro bought me an i-phone for my Christmas present and he thinks that now entitles him to sex and a bed free from clothes, dinnerware and small animals (how can he want the sex and not the small animals?).  Honestly, I don't know what he's thinking sometimes.  I allow him to provide for me in a manner to which I have yet to become accustomed...isn't that enough?

So this will have to explain my lack of posting, but I did want to show you a logo I am working on.  It's not quite done yet, I'm going to make the speed lines less uniform, fix the tail, put a little shadow under the back tire of the bike, and maybe put a little crash helmet on him, but I thought the idea was cute.  Everyone in my class liked it.  And most of them aren't completely short-bus.

Upstream

Jethro and I took the girls on a little camping trip over the weekend to Garner State Park on the Frio River with our friends Jen  (who took some fantastic pictures) and Vince and their two little girls.

I don't think I can describe how much we needed it.  It was absolutely beautiful.  The Frio River is crystal clear, which is kind of unusual for rivers in Texas.  Usually they're brown and full of water moccasins and other unsavory creatures.  At least that's how I imagine them, and there is a reason:  

In upstate NY, where I grew up, the streams and rivers were pretty clear and you'd never see anything more threatening than a turtle.  When my family was moving down to TX (which was a two week process involving the summer, 7 girls, and camper with no a/c - did you know girls can smell not-so-great after two weeks in a camper without a/c in the middle of the summer?) we stopped at a campground in Louisiana to sleep for the night.  It was still light out when we pulled in and there was a big pond.  Since it was hotter than I ever believed could be possible, I thought I would take my little sisters wading.  Sure the pond was had a little algae and it didn't smell quite right, but why not?

We got to the water's edge and I was about to cautiously put my toe in, when I saw something slithering in the murk.  It was about 7 feet long.  I stared at it, my toe hovering cautiously, and an evil head came up and opened its monstrous, fanged mouth lined in startling white.  I hustled my sisters away from there as fast as I could and spent the night not sleeping and getting up periodically to stuff shoes and socks through the cracks in the camper.

I hate snakes more than I fear hell and this phobia does not improve with age.

But enough of that.  The Frio was gorgeous and we really had fun.  We took the girls fishing, hiked up into the hills and saw a great view, made a campfire, roasted marshmallows, drank some beer, and bundled up during the night like I haven't done in years.

Jen and I also took the girls to hear a park ranger expound upon the geology of the TX hill country.

This particular park ranger was a gentleman probably in his early to mid-40s.  He wore a cowboy hat like everyone with any type of authority (real or imagined) does in TX, had a little beer gut, and was mostly nondescript except for a massive handlebar mustache.  It was distracting in its luxuriant perfection.  I immediately started imagining having sex with him just because I wondered if it was possible to convince a man with a handlebar mustache to have sex with me.

Then he started talking and I realized he was as gay as a trout in a stream and that my imagination is forced to draw the line at having relations with gentlemen who flick their wrists in an airy fashion, even if they do have gorgeous handlebar mustaches.

I Can't Decide If It's Ironic or Bittersweet

Obama campaign workers angry over unpaid wages

" 'I want my money today! It's my money. I want it right now!' yelled one former campaign worker."

" 'I'm disappointed. I'm glad for the president, but I'm disappointed in this system,' said Diane Jefferson, temporary campaign worker."

" 'It should have been $480. It's $230,' said Imani Sankofa"

" 'They gave us $10 an hour. So we added it. I added up all the hours so it was supposed to be at least $120. All I get is $90,' said Charles Martin."

" 'I worked nine hours a day for 4 days and got paid half of what I should have earned,' said Randall Waldon."

" 'They say that they gonna call you or they going to mail it to you, but I don't know. We'll see what happens,' said Antron Grose."

" 'Talking about they'll mail it to us. I ain't worried about that, man. They're not going to mail nothin',' said Martin."

H/T: The Incomparable Jim Treacher

Levon

Levon wears his war wound like a crown

He calls his child Jesus

`Cause he likes the name

And he sends him to the finest school in town



Levon, Levon likes his money

He makes a lot they say

Spend his days counting

In a garage by the motorway



He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas day

When the New York Times said God Is Dead

And the war’s begun.

Alvin Tostig has a son today



And he shall be Levon

And he shall be a good man

And he shall be Levon

In tradition with the family plan

And he shall be Levon

And he shall be a good man


He shall be Levon



Levon sells cartoon balloons in town

His family business thrives

Jesus blows up balloons all day

Sits on the porch swing watching them fly



And Jesus, he wants to go to Venus

Leaving Levon far behind

Take a balloon and go sailing

While Levon, Levon slowly dies...

From time to time, I dust off my liberal arts education and apply it to something. My blog drafts are one long series of philosophical ramblings which I would probably never allow to see the light of day. I know just enough to be aware of the limitations of my intellect.

But since I'm feeling rather apocalyptic and since this is the last day what I write has the possibility of really seeming prescient, I'll allow my musings some air time.

Now to anyone who has really studied philosophy, what I'm about to write will undoubtedly seem hopelessly amateurish, and I'll concede that right now. Philosophy interests me more and more lately, but I'm no scholar.

If you haven't studied philosophy at all, it will most likely seem pretentious. That isn't my intention, but I'm not going to tell anyone what to think.

I realize Elton John would probably faint dead away at this because I think he’s made it clear what an enormous erection he has for him, but this song rather forcefully brings to mind the possibilities of an Obama administration. And since Bernie Taupin wrote the words, I'm not sure that even Sir Elton knows what they really mean.

Now if you’ll briefly allow me a few liberties I’ll show you why I was a lit major instead of pursuing a more lucrative course of study and why the government should never, ever, finance students of the liberal arts.

“Levon wears his war wound like a crown”

Bearing in mind the theme of the Trinity in this song (Alvin Tostig, Levon, and Jesus), and Obama’s God/Messiah complex, Levon is Obama as President. He wears the scars of his political/"racial" battles like a crown of thorns.

“He calls his child Jesus
`cause he likes the name
And he sends him to the finest school in town

He thinks he’s God. And I see America as the Jesus in the song. He’s promising us all the best, but promises do not mean results, and we just may end up on a cross.

“Levon, Levon likes his money”

Maybe not his money exactly. More like OUR money.

“He makes a lot they say”

He certainly will if he has his way.  But at whose expense?

“He was born a pauper to a pawn…”

I don’t know about him being a pauper exactly, but certainly born to a pawn. Two pawns, actually. Both supporters of a cause that cared nothing about them and left more helplessness than help.

“…on a Christmas day
When the New York Times said God Is Dead”

So now we get hot and heavy into Nietzsche, and, I think, the meat of both the song and my interpretation.

The song is from an album entitled "Madman Across the Water."

The famous headline was in Time Magazine, not the NYT.  But Nietzsche's famous quote, while attributed to his more widely known "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" was actually first stated in "The Gay Science." It was mentioned in three sections of the work, but Sec 125, where the idea was given the most detail is entitled "The Madman." And the words were spoken by a madman addressing atheists and agnostics.

“God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? ….. What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?”

If you take Heidegger’s approach, that the “death” of God is actually the death of metaphysics and with it the concept of the Christian God, the idea has been both lamented and embraced. But it can’t really be argued that there hasn’t been a scramble to invent “festivals of atonement” and “sacred games” to stave off the nihilism Nietzsche insisted was inevitable. The need to punish ourselves for our sins did not end with the “death” of the Christian God. The racial guilt evoked by Obama’s candidacy is just one manifestation, but his entire campaign and platform has seemed like one long festival of atonement.

Obama's entire Messianic persona has been given to him by the god-killers, looking for a new god to make them worthy of having killed the old one.

"And the war's begun"

Certainly true, but maybe not the war everyone knows right now. There is an ideological war that will be lost if the god-killers gain permanent ascendence. Our rights and freedoms, inherent in the Constitution, are completely dependent on the idea that there is a Higher Power to which we are answerable. The government cannot control us because we are not answerable to them. Read The Federalist Papers, I beg you.

I see a relentless quest to destroy this idea without any alternative structure that will keep our rights and freedoms intact. Even worse, I see the opposite. A deliberate destruction of the idea of a Higher Power in order for the government in the form of a god-king to gain control over everyone from business owners who will be forced to sacrifice their earnings, to the paupers who will find themselves completely dependent on the government and subject to it's every whim.

"And he shall be Levon
And he shall be a good man"

It's the plaintive cry of those looking for a god-king. Projection will not make it so, but it doesn't stop the hopeful, even wistful chanting.

But Levon is not actually a good man.

Of course there is more of the song to interpret (most of it scarily appropriate), but I think I exposed a bit of the center. Or at least the inner covering of the center.

Feel free to skewer.

I'm so busy with school I haven't been able to post anything.  But this doesn't mean I don't have things to write about.  I figure I'll list them right here, right now, so when I have a second to write about them, I won't forget.  Hopefully the subjects are titillating enough to keep people returning.

In no particular order:

Gwennie and Jethro's drawers.

Zelda's Annual Sexy Halloween Picture - Less sexy with each passing year.

Emma at the All-You-Can-Eat Dessert Bar

Bathilda (one of Jethro's patients)

Maybe I'll post a project or two.  I would post more of them, but I'll finish one and think it's good enough for class, but then when I think about the general public seeing them, I am overcome with crippling anxiety.  I don't think it's a good attitude for a wannabe logo designer, but there is always the possibility that I suck, and I want to live in denial for a little while longer.

I'll resurface soon.  Promise.

Friday Night Joy

Zelda: "It's a fun size Snickers. I just want a bite. One little bite. I've been so good. If you don't let me eat it I'll just go get a big one."

Jethro: "I'll give you a big one."

Zelda: "As long as it's chocolate and there are no surprises."

-----------------------------------------
Haiku:

I saw a fat man
Licking an ice cream cone and
Riding a scooter

--------------------

Really, it was funny.

Or We Could Just Elect Someone Whose Mettle There Is No Need To Test...

I've been trying to find a full transcript of what Biden said at a fundraiser in Seattle when he didn't know the press was listening, but one hasn't been printed yet.

I've got as much as has been printed, but I'm sure there's more.

"Mark my words, mark my words. It will not be six months before the world tests Barack Obama like they did John Kennedy. The world is looking. We're about to elect a brilliant 47-year-old senator president of the United States of America. Remember I said it standing here if you don't remember anything else I said. Watch, we're gonna have an international crisis, a generated crisis, to test the mettle of this guy.

And he's gonna have to make some really tough...I don't know what his decision's gonna be but I promise you it will occur.  As a student of history and having served with seven presidents, I guarantee you it's gonna happen.

I can give you at least four or five scenarios from where it might originate, and he's gonna need help. And the kind of help he's gonna need is, he's gonna need you - not financially to help him - we're gonna need you to use your influence, your influence within the community, to stand with him. Because it's not gonna be apparent initially, it's not gonna be apparent that we're right."

These are all his words with no breaks.

Here is where I heard them.

I believe there are some statements missing right after that, but he continues....

"Gird your loins.....we're gonna win with your help, God willing, we're gonna win, but this is not gonna be an easy ride. This president, the next president, is gonna be left with the most significant task. It's like cleaning the Augean stables, man. This is more than just, this is more than – think about it, literally, think about it – this is more than just a capital crisis, this is more than just markets. This is a systemic problem we have with this economy." 

More missing statements but he actually, for some unknown reason, continues.

"I've forgotten more about foreign policy than most of my colleagues know, so I'm not being falsely humble with you. I think I can be value added, but this guy has it, this guy has it. But he's gonna need your help. Because I promise you, you all are gonna be sitting here a year from now going, 'Oh my God, why are they there in the polls? Why is the polling so down? Why is this thing so tough?' We're gonna have to make some incredibly tough decisions in the first two years. So I'm asking you now, I'm asking you now, be prepared to stick with us. Remember the faith you had at this point because you're going to have to reinforce us."

Possibly more missing here, but incredulously he goes on...

"There are gonna be a lot of you who want to go, 'Whoa, wait a minute, yo, whoa, whoa, I don't know about that decision', because if you think the decision is sound when they're made, which I believe you will when they're made, they're not likely to be as popular as they are sound. Because if they're popular, they're probably not sound."

He says more in here about bin Laden and Pakistan "bristling with nuclear weapons" but the exact quote was not used.  And still he continues...

"You literally can see what these kids are up against, our kids in that region....the place is crawling with al Qaeda. And it's real....We do not have the military capacity, nor have we ever, quite frankly, in the last 20 years, to dictate outcomes.  It's so much more important than that. It's so much more complicated than that. And Barack gets it."

At the end of his incredible, slightly insane, but illuminating rant, Biden noticed the press and said, "I probably shouldn't have said all this because it dawned on me that the press is here..."

But I think we have the gist of it.

And don't worry, Joe.  I will be marking your words.  We are going to be attacked in some way because they are going to "test the mettle" of a "brilliant 47-year-old senator president" (who has no experience and could very easily be such a complete weenie that it would totally be worth it)  and Obama is going to do some things that very few people are going to like.  Sounds good to me.  I'll be sure to remember the dichotomy and what a liar you were during the debate when you knew the cameras were on you.

What really blows my mind out of this completely mind-blowing event, is when he says: "We do not have the military capacity, nor have we ever, quite frankly, in the last 20 years, to dictate outcomes."

Well who is the party on record for slashing the military to that point?  Obama made a lovely speech about how much he wants to cut the defense budget and the military...the same military (according to Biden) that doesn't have the capacity to dictate outcomes.  Biden, himself, that foreign policy expert extraordinaire, has a record of voting to cut the military almost every time he's had the opportunity.

This man, Obama, has no experience which in and of itself makes us a target for any nutball country  who thinks they have a shot.  That's the truth, as painful as it is to hear.  Now that in and of itself might be worth the risk for the right candidate, but Obama hasn't made any statements that might give our enemies pause.  And even worse, he has associated with people who truly hate this country.  Ayers is a Anarchist/Marxist (probably not even realizing the irony) who plotted and arranged the murders of his own countrymen.  Jeremiah Wright is a hate-filled race-monger.  Tony Rezko is a felonious scam artist who bilked the Illinois government out of millions, and ACORN engages in mass voter fraud.  If they don't think Obama is a pushover, they're going to think he's a fucking ally.

The question is why wouldn't terrorists, dictators, and totalitarian governments think he'd roll over on his country?  Everyone around him has.  Except maybe his poor, sick, typical white granny whom he called a racist just before throwing her under the bus along with his other unsavory friends (but only after their associations became known, of course...)

I guess it's lucky for him that the press doesn't care enough to give this a headline.

The Perils of the Art of Dance

Jethro and I decided to attempt to learn the Texas two-step.

We've both lived in Texas for years, we've been available to each other for awhile, and we've watched other people do it nearly every time we've gone out dancing, so it's ridiculous that we never learned.

Well we have a wedding coming up this weekend, and while there probably won't be too much country music played, we thought it might be nice if we could do a nice slow two-step if one came along. So I looked up a few songs on youtube and we began with not a little enthusiasm. We're in love, right? We find each other reasonably attractive when fully clothed, right? We rock the house a bit on occasion, right? Dancing to a rhythm using actual steps instead of the pubescent grinding we usually do shouldn't be too difficult, right?

Wrong. So very very wrong.

We couldn't agree on the steps (how hard can slow, slow, quick, quick be?) and the playful (yet so not playful) jabbing at each others' rib cages in quasi-frustration, quickly degenerated into a real scuffle and then somewhat of a brawl which included biting, kicking, scratching and punching with me eventually pinned down on the tile floor screaming that Jethro better release my arms or I was going to tear a chunk of flesh out of his personal area with my teeth sometime when he was least expecting it.

We began again somewhat more disheveled.

Zelda: "Long, long, short, short, 1..2..3..4.. It's not that difficult."

Jethro: "I can't follow your Jew rhythm."

Zelda: "Watch it, slope....2..3..4.."

Zelda: "For the love of shit....walk, don't bounce."

Jethro: "You have to take longer steps."

Zelda: "You have to take shorter steps."

Jethro: "You just cut my foot with your toenail.

Zelda: "You did that to me 15 minutes ago, but I didn't complain.

Jethro: "How the fuck do you think you're going to lead when you're going backwards?

Jethro - "You're not moving your feet in time to the music"

Zelda: "Because you're swinging your hips. Why the fuck are you swinging your hips?"

Jethro: "Because you have big hips and I'm trying to keep up with them."

Zelda: " You didn't just say that."

Jethro: "Oh the fuck. That's not what I meant. I just meant that women have wider hips than men and ..... oh the fuck. The fuck. I don't know what I meant anymore."

Zelda: "I think we better call it a night........"

............................................................................

............................................................................

............................................................................

............................................................................

Zelda: ............."Don't touch me, please."

I Feel Sicky, Oh So Sicky, I Feel Icky and Sicky And....

How do you "spread the wealth around" by forcing business owners to lay off employees?  How is the government desire to steal money and give it to whomever is likeliest to vote for them more efficient than people working for it and getting paid directly out of the business profits?  

Money is diluted when it goes through Washington.  One big fucking bureaucracy has to get paid/bribed just to collect/steal  all of that filthy lucre.  And there is no efficiency in D.C.  What makes Obama think the government can do a better job of paying people than the businesses that are actually paying people?  The government doesn't have so good a history with that kind of thing.

This just makes me sick to my stomach.  We're in our first year of business.  We have debt upon debt upon debt.  But if our gross income exceeds $250K, and it just might, we will have to pay upwards of $9,000 in federal taxes.  And this doesn't include an increase in the payroll tax which we have to pay even if we don't make any profit at all.  Adding upwards of $9,000 dollars to our debt when we are just barely scraping by means we will be forced to lay off the lady who works for us if we want to stay in business.  So the government, by taking around $15,000, will have forced us to lay off someone who was making over twice that with us.  And for that measly (in comparison) price, the government will have removed a perfectly life-sustaining job from the workforce in order to give much less (if anything) to that person by way of government handouts.

How is this sane, again?

Don't Do It

U.S. government mulls plan to take ownership stakes in banks

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Please, please, please, please, PLEEEEEEASE don't make me write in Ron Paul.  I can't stand Ron Paul.

The government can't run the government.  Don't let them take over the banks.

Say A Prayer

For my dear blogger friend ALa tonight.  She's a tiny little lady trying to deliver a very large baby.

An Evening Spent Gathered Around the Family Laptop

Setting: The Living Room sofa where Jethro is reading aloud an email he is writing to his friend, Corin...

Jethro: Dude, we were so glad we got to hang out with you and Serena before you left.  We definitely have to do an anime convention next time.  Zelda could go as the chick with the big tits....you know, all of them.

Zelda (in a solemn, quasi-feminist mood after watching Sarah Palin do very well in the debate): Jethro, you really need to stop being so sexist.

Jethro - What?  I love big tits.  How is that sexist?

Zelda: I don't know.  Maybe I could go as that lobster guy who does that thing with his claws.  He seems smart for having an exoskeleton.

Jethro - You don't have the ass for it.

Again, As Promised

Circumstances somewhat beyond my control have prevented me from doing this weeks ago, but Jim Treacher has been doing some excellent work defending Sarah Palin from the lies and smears of Obama's increasingly desperate and hateful minions.

And he is hilarious, god bless him. Even if you don't agree with us politically, he is still awesome.

Start here: http://jimtreacher.com/archives/2008_08.html

Continue through September: http://jimtreacher.com/archives/2008_08.html

Then bookmark him: http://jimtreacher.com/

Hopefully he will keep this going awhile.

As Promised

1. Our fence. It's not a big deal, but it's weird to see one's neighbor's yard and realize how small both of them really are.

2. A fallen tree just outside our neighborhood. It's kind of hard to get the perspective, but I'm 5'7" and if I were to stand next to the tree in its current state, it would be about 3 feet higher.

3. One of the many trees down in the next subdivision over.

4. Another tree in the same subdivision.

5. Just one long line of felled trees. Perspective is difficult again, but all of them lying down were taller than me.

6. This might give you some perspective on the size of the trees.

7. These trees were humongous and just torn up by their roots. I've never seen anything like it.

8. Bye bye fence.

9. Still marveling at how this humongous tree was just ripped up by the roots.

10. Not a particularly impressive amount of damage in this one, but I thought it was cool how the sod was torn up too.

My mom wanted all my sisters to say something at the wake.  Here's what I said.

Grandpa has been compared to such notable talents as Grouch Marx and W.C. Fields.  He had a self-deprecating wit that made Rodney Dangerfield appear a pillar of dignity and self-respect.

But Grandpa was nothing if not original.  He had the style of the old vaudevillians he used to watch as a young man, but he was never behind the times.

One of my last conversations with him - the details of which are probably best left to myself - revealed what a truly amazing life he had.  Cruising the South Pacific in the Navy during WWII, a chiropractic career in Arizona, romance on an international level as he was prone to claim, and an intimate knowledge of Las Vegas.

I don't know that he expected to be the grandfather to nine granddaughters, probably never considering offspring of his to be capable of such an incredible feat.  But whenever the magnitude would overtake him as he watched the typical female antics, he'd shake his head in incredulity at my mom and finding no other words would say, "Gotta hunch, have a bunch" as if this explained everything perfectly.

And for him it did.  He was not judgmental.

Recently, however, he decided to take matters into his own hands.  

Where biology had failed, bribery would succeed.

He issued a family-wide proclamation declaring that the first girl to produce a (legitimate) male heir would receive $1,000.  Or more depending on the stock market.

And not entirely trusting our skills in this matter, went ahead and included his great-granddaughters in on the offer.

It's a cliche, but also a truth that Grandpa left us a lot to laugh about.  And that's no mean legacy.

I love you Grandpa, I'll miss you. And thanks for everything.

I wrote that in about 15 minutes, just a few hours before I had to deliver it.  I think it was pretty good considering.  At least people laughed in all the right places.

I'm still going to post the pictures of the hurricane damage, but it will probably be tomorrow or the next.

Quickie

Jeth and I and the girls drove back to Houston last night for family stuff.  The wake and funeral are Monday and Tuesday, but we needed to go back a little sooner and see if there was any damage to our house here (fence down, that's all). 

I've never seen hurricane strength winds or the aftereffects, so I was shocked by the huge trees that had been completely uprooted before crashing through living rooms.  There were piles of branches higher than me all along the roads of our neighborhood.  Fences were down, roofs were torn off, windows blown out, it was incredible.

I've taken pictures mostly of the tree damage, and will post them as soon as I get back.  North of Houston is still without power, but we drove up there to see a friend and the wind destruction is not quite as bad as in the south where we lived.

Further south is even worse, but we're definitely not venturing down there, at least for awhile.  I'd hate to see worse than our suburb and I know there is.

The Art of Self Deprecation to Make Your Point

A rare moment in politics.

McCain Sings Streisand!

First Your Money, Then Your Clothes...

I don't feel like writing much about it, but I'll get it over with.  My grandpa passed away last night.  He was funny and wonderful and I'll miss him something fierce.

The Aftermath

Well, the aftermath is nasty, folks.  

I'm so mad at my family for not evacuating, I find myself fighting to not wish them as much discomfort as possible so they will not be so stupid the next time around.  I told them to come, I thought they would be coming, I went and drove all over New Town trying to find hotel rooms, since I had plenty of floorspace, but few actual beds (I was miraculously able to find one of those rooms you can rent at a weekly rate, which I went ahead and did). And I cleaned my house!!!  For anyone who knows me, they know how much that put me out.

But no family.  Two of our friends, being sane, came up with their two kids and stayed with us for a night.  They had a hotel room for the next night and this evening, but depending on the power situation in Houston, they may end up staying with us for another night or two.  And they are welcome for as long as they need, as is anyone else.

The main problem is the lack of power.  4.5 million people are without it and everyone I talked to is in the dark and heat and humidity, just thankful it wasn't any worse.

The main reason I made Jethro leave for Rita was because I didn't want to be stuck for weeks without AC.  I don't do well in this climate.  I can run around in freezing weather, but the heat just kills me.  I'm a white girl with a genetic history that is just screaming for peasant work in the frozen hinterlands of Eastern Europe.  Mmmmm..... potatoes......

And boy howdy do I digress.  

Everyone I talked to seems to be okay for now, but the damage is extensive.  Some had their windows blown in, some are flooded, my sister-in-law's fence blew over, and everyone is hot.

I'm thankful everyone is safe.   They are welcome to come up here, but I am not going back to Houston until the power is on.  I will help clean up then, if they still need it.

Personally, I'm exhausted from worrying and a headache I always seem to get whenever there is a low pressure system hovering in the Gulf, so I'll write more when I know more (if it's interesting).

y-IKE-s

There has been no mass exodus from Houston. The government seems to be concentrating on getting out people from the lowest lying areas. But Jethro and I are still housing people anyway.

This one makes me a little nervous. It seems to be heading right up the Houston ship channel which will be disastrous even if it's not a CAT 3 or 4. All I know is that I would have gone. I don't fancy living without electricity for 2 weeks or stockpiling groceries or anything else. And if it shifts to the north or east, at least I got a few days vacation out of it. I don't really care what the government says. Ultimately I'm responsible for myself and my family.

Anyway, say a prayer for Galveston/Houston tonight. I know I will.

I managed to catch both the major speeches at the Republican Convention, but I haven't been able to write about them because of the busyness.

First, I just wanted to say that I thought Sarah Palin's speech was electrifying. She is so bright and spunky and funny and awesome. And I know I'm diving head first into a fondue pot here, but I've never felt this way about a politician before. I guess I just don't feel like she's a politician. She's seems like more of a regular person who's had it with politicians. And I don't blame her, and I'm really excited to vote for her.

But it was John McCain who really did it for me. I know most of his speech was utilitarian and somewhat lackluster compared to his opponant's and even his running mate's. But at the end, when he talked about his love of our country and our how his many years of service have been in gratitude for our country, I actually teared up. No. More than teared up. And I've never done that before.

I watch all politicians with a very cynical eye. Even the ones I vote for. I defend their policies if I agree, and eviscerate them if I don't, but I don't care much about them as people. Why should I? They don't really care about me. Why should they? I've watched the political scene for far too long. I know the policies I want, I have a pretty good idea of most of the major players (I even knew about Sarah Palin, who wasn't) and while I have no real hope of seeing the policies I want enacted, I know who I have a slightly better chance of getting them from. I listen to their speeches, not to hear what they have to say, but to see how they're selling themselves to people who may not know exactly what they want. I watch to see if they fuck up and hope that the uninformed will see it as more than a gaffe or just a gaffe, depending on the candidate. It's all a game to me now. A game that I claim to love, but it's more of an addiction than anything else.

But McCain really gave me something to consider in his speech. It's been the theme of the Convention and I hadn't given it thought as much more than a slogan. Country First. But as I listened to him speak, I thought about it quite a bit. There is no one on this earth who is more qualified to speak to that theme.

Anyway, I will end before I lose all objectivity. But I'm pleased with my Republican choices in this election.

A Moment For The History Books, Indeed

And the slightly longer version is even funnier because he's waxing so lyrical.



"Heart and soul, and the muscle, and bone and sinew?" Not original, perhaps, but definitely lyrical. I expected him to don a tutu break into song right up until he revealed that Barack's biological parents were interracial gay men pioneers of science.

But that's what you get when your feeeeelings to overtake your journalism.

Congratulations to Sarah Palin

John McCain's nobody's fool. Sarah Palin is an phenomenal choice. Frankly, I wasn't sure he would have the guts, but I should have known better. John McCain has never lacked for guts.

I heard about Sarah Palin a few years ago as one of the few Republicans who retained a governorship for the party. But she didn't retain it as an incumbent. She ran against the corrupt former Republican governor as a Republican and secured the nomination. Then she went on to beat the Democrat nominee. What really stood out about her though, was that she refused federal money for an unnecessary bridge project in Alaska. Politicians talk about reducing spending, but put her money where her mouth was and actually did.

I'm so excited. There is a very good chance McCain could win. This isn't a nomination made in an unwinnable election to throw a bone to a particular voting block like Geraldine Ferraro's was. This is the real deal. And the best part for me is that she got the nomination based on her qualifications as a leader, not her gender. But I am going to thoroughly enjoy voting for the ticket with the girl on it. More than I ever thought I would.

Meet the Principal or "That was some mighty fine a pickin' and a singin'"

I took the girls to their school for "Meet the Teacher" night, and we ran into their principal.

I don't remember if I've blogged about their principal before, but I have the biggest crush on him in the entire world.  He plays banjo in a bluegrass band.  I don't think I need explain myself further.

We saw him play once last year at this little restaurant.  It was so very cool.

He remembered Gwennie and Emma and even remembered what grades they were going into.  I asked him, giggling (and managing to refrain from rubbing myself salaciously) if he was still playing the banjo.  He said he wasn't playing as much, but he was still playing once a month at the little restaurant where we saw him last (which he remembered).

I giggled again and said we would be seeing him there and left with the girls before I started shining his shoes with my nether regions.  I think it would have set a bad example.

And a former blogger with whom Jethro and are are friends told me about a band called "The Gourds" who have done a cover of.... well see for yourself.

Apparently it's been out for a couple of years, but I hadn't heard it.

Another One

One of My Projects

One of my better ones, I think.  Keep in mind, I only have a few days and a limited amount of time within those days to get these projects done.

This one was an ad for a spa.  I made one up.  There's an odd white square at the top under the first diamond that isn't supposed to be there, but other than that...

So if I have any readers left, I'd be happy for opinions.

Update: There are also lines between the diamonds that weren't there originally either.  I'm guessing when I go from format to format things get a little skewered.  Basically the green square and the surrounding white is supposed to be solid.

I thought I've done a pretty good job informing my children about the various parts of the body. Even the naughty parts. We call them "the naughty parts."

But I was listening to them the other day playing a video game where they have to shoot paint at a gorilla tied to a wheel that spins (don't ask). After awhile, I heard Emma cackle and announce that she "got him in the vagina."

It seems I haven't done a very good job. But I did shriek with laughter.

The Vastness of Possibility

So let me just tell you about my husband and why he is going to get the best blowjob my small jaw, jagged teeth, and hyper gag-reflex can manage.

He bought me a MacBook. It is the sweetest little laptop in the entire world and I love it like a puppy.

But even better, he got me all the programs I need for my classes so I can do my work anywhere. The possibilities are limitless, especially after the girls are back in school.

I can go to Barnes and Noble. I can go to coffee shops. I can go to a hookah bar that offers free wifi. I can go to the gym and hang out by the pool. I can now even go to the clinic all day with Jethro.

The reality, however, is that I am probably now going to open my eyes in the morning, hoist up the Mac and not arise until I am at least 15 minutes late for class. And on my days off, I might make the extra effort of venturing from my bear cave of a boudoir to sit with it in front of the television in my new round chair.

Ennui and all.

Two Americas: Those Who Have Fathers and Those Who Don't

So while I will maintain there is a slight possibility this is all a ploy to make John Edwards appear to be heterosexual, it seems he did, indeed, make time with the ageing social climber and novice filmmaker, Ms. Rielle Hunter.

However, he denies fathering her child even though he hasn't taken a paternity test.

Now this is not smart on his part. He cheated on his cancer-stricken wife, lied repeatedly about the affair, damaged his political party, and destroyed his chances for the VP slot (not that I care remotely about the last two).

The only good thing to come out of this is the baby. And he takes the lowest of all possible roads by denying paternity without taking a test. What a leader. What an example for all the young men out there who find themselves in similar circumstances.

The only thing that could have redeemed him (given that an admission was necessary) was if he waited until he had DNA evidence one way or another, admitted the affair, and claimed his child publicly if it was positive. If he is not the father, then at least he would have proven that he did the responsible thing.

Fathering a child outside of your marriage is not recommendable, but it's not the worst thing in the entire world. Being a worm and not bothering to find out if you are the father, or denying paternity when you know, is exponentially worse. And still worse would be to let someone else cloak your sins (Andrew Young, a former campaign aide, who is married with 3 of his own children, has said he was the father).

He really is a scumbag. A pretty, fluffy little scumbag, but a scumbag, nonetheless.

H/T: Blonde Sagacity (who smelled the news story when it was just a twinkle on the pages of the National Enquirer, and the MSM was reaching new levels of journalistic depravity by demanding it not be investigated).

School Days

I take a class on Friday mornings now beginning at 8:30 am. It's a little exhausting because I have a class on Thursday evenings until 10:30 pm. But I like the class on Friday mornings. There aren't many people around and the atmosphere is much more laid back.

However, there is a guy in the class who I kind of want to destroy. He is really irritating. I'll call him Fess.

Fess started school the same term I did, and annoyed me the first minute of the first class I ever had with him by asking to partner up with two of the smart guys for one of the group projects, leaving me stuck with an ignoramus and a pothead. The only good thing about it is that I wasn't stuck with him.

He's a goofy looking white guy who wears a baseball hat constantly, has bad teeth and something like 13 dogs. He's married to a woman who was kicked in the head, and fancies himself a photographer. He is always interrupting class to talk about his photography, which isn't good. I want to brain him.

Once he had a hacky sack thrown playfully at him by a kid in the class just because he was talking so incessantly. The instructor was not pleased by the incident and severely reprimanded the kid who threw it. Instead of being a dude and telling her it was no big deal, Fess started making pouty faces and rubbing his head, trying to elicit more sympathy.

Another time, I was having trouble with the computer I was on, and he, unasked, came up and tried to give me advice, even going so far as to TOUCH MY MOUSE!!!!! I realize I am not a fast user of Photoshop yet, but I still manage to do better stuff than he does. He has no artistic talent at all, not even as a hack, and he's really the last person I want advice from.

Unfortunately, he is in my Friday class and bothers me constantly because I'm the only girl.

Slight digression: What is it with guys compulsively trying to impress women? None of the guys in that class ask what any of the other guys think of their work. They ask me. Or rather, they demand that I come look at their stuff and praise it. I wish I could say they were barking up the wrong tree and that I'm honest, but I can't. I usually just say 'very cool' and walk away, even when I hate it. Boys are weird.

Anyway, the project for this class is a package design. We start out with a template for a box, and then design the logo and label for the product package. I haven't decided what I'm going to do, but I made a great template for the type of box I want - an elongated trapezoid. I had just finished, when Fess wandered over after talking at great length about doing box for birdseed in the shape of a birdhouse. "Oh! Cool box! Would you email me that template? I have an idea for it."

"I hope it's for another class," I said apprehensively.

He grinned sheepishly. "Well, I can't find a template for a birdhouse."

"Have you googled 'birdhouse template?'"

"No....."

"Well might I suggest you try? I don't want you doing the same one I'm doing. At least not for this project."

"Okay."

He shuffled off.

But of all the nerve!

On break, he went to go find me to tell me how tired he was, and when I asked him why out of pure etiquette, he told me that he and his wife had engaged in extra-marital activities until midnight the previous evening.

I was pretty sure he was trying to mimic my unusual turn-of-phrase, which sometimes leads to uneducated people saying things like 'extra-marital activities' when they just mean regular old sex with their spouse.

"Midnight, huh?"

"Yeah," he said, chuckling foolishly.

"You better take it easy there, cowboy. You need your beauty sleep. Badly."

He then proceeded to tell me about how most men's sex drives wither after they turn 23 (23?), but how he's goin' strong.

Now I'm not squeamish about sex, but thinking of him in his goofy hat, making love to a woman who was kicked in the head gave me funny feelings that might, in weaker people, lead to a desire for humiliating and deviant acts of sexual congress and cravings for canned meat. Or something equivalently uncomfortable.

Anyway, he is a weirdo, and a hack, and a total annoyance, but as I've just discovered, kind of fun to blog about.

18 Years, 18 Years.....

I have completely ignored the rumors of John Edwards fathering a love child with some ageing Hollywood groupie because frankly, I will never be able to believe that he enjoys the type of intercourse necessary.

But a few folks on the internet have taken notice, one of them, my friend ALa from Blonde Sagacity, remarked on it months ago.

And Jim Treacher has committed a series of jokes, each one special.

------------------------------

I'm so worn out. I think it might have something to do with driving down to Harlingen, TX on the hysterical request of my mother this past week to rescue one of my sisters from what was the impending Hurricane. And while this might sound exciting, it really wasn't. We were the only ones moronic enough to be driving toward the storm, but when we picked up my sis and turned around, we were the only ones driving away.

There is a trick to long car trips in order to make the time go faster. Argue. Frequently and about everything. Not the kind of arguing that makes you want to render each other sterile, but kind of a running banter on subjects inconsequential, yet interesting. If you don't get into the groove right away, you're in for a looooooooong drive. And the drives from New Town to Houston or Harlingen are quite boring. In fact, driving anywhere in Texas with the exception of the hill country is boring. You can only marvel so much at cattle, cacti, and oil rigs, dilapidated honky-tonks, grain storage facilities and grass.

You can tell it's the summer if I'm blogging about boredom.

The Clinic

I'm working at the clinic for the next three days. Jethro gave the front desk girl some time off for vacation. Today was interesting. We have a patient who had only visited the doctor we bought the clinic from once before we came.

The poor man drives a lot for work and was in severe pain from only a 3 hour trip. He says he would stagger into his hotel room and just lie on the floor for a few hours before he could even get up.

He started seeing Jethro when the former doc left and has improved quickly - so quickly that he thinks Jethro is something of a miracle worker. He's such a sweet man. He said he'd been praying for someone to help him with his back problems and then he started seeing Jethro and said his prayers were answered. He has referred numerous patients now and he just can't stop marvelling at his progress. His referrals seem to be happy too, so it's all very good.

This whole venture has been remarkably gratifying so far which I am thankful for.

New docs, and it doesn't matter what field they're in, want to bring patients in the door. There are any number of marketing groups you can pay a lot of money to in order to help you achieve this goal. They usually want you to advertise heavily and find a gimmick that brings people in the door.

We've had discussions with several of Jethro's classmates about these companies and it's disheartening to hear their ideas. So much of it revolves around scare tactics and false advertising in order to bring you into a clinic that is more like a factory doing the same therapies on every patient.

Jethro and I had a discussion about it when we were first talking of opening a clinic. As much as I disliked the idea, I wondered whether or not we should go to a marketing company simply because I didn't want all the other doctors snagging all the patients before we got a chance.

Jethro, smart as ever, didn't think it was necessary. And now I see why. He has done so much better just by doing a good job.

As it turns out, you don't really need a marketing company if you are really good at what you do. So far, we have advertised in one little magazine and that was only because the lady who owns it is part of our BNI group. It hasn't brought in any patients. So far, Jethro has quadrupled the patient load from in-house referrals and that's it. No gimmicks, no advertising, nothing but good work and good results.

One other thing he has done in order to get more PI cases (which are really bread and butter for most chiropractors) was send out letters to attorneys along with samples of a PI case he treated. That way the attorneys can see how thorough and detailed he is, and as a result, how much more likely they are to win their cases. So far we've gotten a few attorneys to refer which is just fantastic.

I know it will be a few more years before we are really making any money (we have a lot in school loans) but so far we seem to be on the right track. And I'm really glad we've come here. It's not that Houston was a bad place to be, and it's not that we couldn't have done really well there, but there were too many chiropractors because of the college being so close by, and while Jethro eventually would have risen to the top, it would have taken a lot longer. In New Town, the chiropractors are old and they all do pretty much the same things, so Jeth has been able to capitalize on the fact that he is up-to-date on the very latest techniques and theories.

I don't want to be premature and say this is the best move we ever made, but I'll be guardedly optimistic and say it's looking that way so far.

Joker, Joker, Joker

Jethro and I took my two youngest sisters and Gwennie and Emma to see The Dark Knight on Friday. After reading this article, It appears that Jethro and I are Bad Parents.

I wonder if we are redeemed at all by the fact that Gwennie and Emma fell asleep 15 minutes in?

Anyway, it was a great movie. Heath Ledger was absolutely fantastic and I actually felt a slight twinge that he was dead. He didn’t make any of his innocent, wide-eyed, puppy dog faces that I so dislike. He had a habit of doing that in some of his other movies and it always annoyed me. I was like, “Stop looking like a priest is touching you in the bad places and be a man.” But he kicked ass in this role and if I were an actor, it would be one that I’d be proud to go out on.

We've had a crazy week. I had my two youngest sisters visiting us for two weeks. It was a lot of fun having them. They even watched the kids a couple of times so Jeth and I could go out. We met these crazy patients of his for sushi one night and former blogger Jack for drinks another. Both nights were fun and much needed.

An Update and A Request

First off, I want to thank everyone for their prayers, kind words and well-wishes. My sis is doing much better and while she is still sad and hurting, I think she will get through this just fine.

Something I wanted to make clear which I wasn't aware of when I first wrote the post: She and her husband both told the guides that she was pregnant and they told her it wouldn't be a problem - that they had never had any trouble on the particular trip they were taking. Her husband was still worried, but she reassured him that it would be okay. It was just horrible luck all the way around.

Anyway, on to happier topics:

I started classes again this week, one of which is web design. I was feeling burnt out, but I'm all excited again now. This is cool stuff. Granted I'm coming at it from the point of view of a complete novice, but I wasn't the only one who was excited. One of my classmates called someone on the first break to tell them excitedly that he was about to design a web site!!! The guy sitting next to me and I mocked him a little, but his enthusiasm was kind of cute.

Brief digression here: My instructor intrigues me. When I think of a web designer, I think of a weird, artistic, socially inept young guy who is probably just starting to make enough money to get laid maybe once or twice a year. Or maybe a smart, artsy girl who is a little pissed off at the world.

I don't think of a 60 year old biker chick who sounds like she's been smoking since she was 4.

But she's cool. I want to be her one day except without the cancer she is inevitably going to acquire.

So back to the subject. Our first assignment is to find 3 websites we like and 3 that suck hairy balls.

It's certainly not a difficult assignment, but I am hoping to find some really great examples of each. If anyone has any ideas I would be grateful if you would post them in the comments. I'll let you know the ones I pick. The bad ones are the most fun, but they are a dime a dozen so I'd be even more grateful for examples of a good website. Many thanks (in advance).

Helpless

I was in class Monday morning when I got a call from my new brother-in-law. He and my sister were at Lake Tahoe on vacation and had been in a terrible, freakish boating accident the day before. My sister was 8 weeks pregnant.

They had been rafting down a very gentle part of the river when something bumped their boat into a suicidal fork of the river where it capsized. They were both thrown into the water, my sister was hit in the head with an oar and the boat landed on top of them.

They somehow managed to get out and it is a miracle they are both alive.

My sister went to an emergency care clinic right away and everything seemed okay, but the next day started bleeding, which was when I got the call from my brother-in-law. He put her on the phone and she was beside herself crying. I tried to calm her down and reassure her that there most likely wasn't a problem, and that she needed to go back to the clinic and get an ultrasound to make sure.

Things weren't okay though, and she had a miscarriage later that day.

I am devastated for their loss. It is so horribly unfair. They are two of the nicest, funniest people and they were so happy to be having a baby. And on top of that loss, they are dealing with the guilt of having gone rafting in the first place.

What was at worst a mildly imprudent decision (one that I might have very easily made myself when I was pregnant, if I'd had the opportunity) is now going to haunt them and they don't deserve that at all.

If you are so inclined, I'd appreciate any prayers for them, specifically that they will find strength in each other and that any guilt they have will be eased. I would give anything if I could take this hurt from them, but I can't and all I can do is ask God to give them the strength to get through this and thank Him that their lives were spared.

Happy Birthday, America

Picture courtesy of Blonde Sagacity

Cake courtesy of her husband Tesco who won a contest with it last year.

Hair

Anyone who knows me in person, even if only for 5 minutes, knows that I hate my hair. I know all ladies say they hate their hair, but mine is truly detestable. I don't have bad hair days. Once in awhile I have a good hair day. That's it.

If torching it wouldn't mean that I would end up in a burn ward in excruciating pain, I'd do it. And it is actually conceivable that I may come to the point one day where I will shave it all off and take as huge a crap as I can muster right on it.

My hair is baby fine - the kind that when it gets cold outside or even if I go into cold air-conditioning, it looks as if I'm putting my hand on that globe like thing they have at children's museums that electrifies and makes your hair stand straight out. Then the baby-fine strands get into my eyes and mouth and they are too thin to pull out, so I end up looking like a meth addicted cat, clawing repeatedly at her face and spitting.

In theory, there is a hairstyle that will minimize this irritation and probably look quite decent on me. But finding someone who will do it has been an excercise in the most extreme, wrist-slitting futility. No one listens to me. And I'm starting to become rather frantic.

Every hair-stylist I go to insists on putting layers around my face. Not only is this look dated and unbecoming to me, it exacerbates the static effect. So I don't want it.

Here is what I want. I want my hair cut evenly all the way around. I don't want it shorter in front and I don't want it shorter in back. I want it even. I repeat this about 900 times to every hairstylist I go to and they all nod their heads as if they understand.

Then I tell them I want them to razor the ends. It gives my hair some depth without making all these insane layers that I can't manage.

Everyone acts as if they understand what I'm talking about, but they don't. Every time, I end up looking like a very pissed off soccer mom.

Every time, they all say, "You like? It look so much better now." And I respond politely that it looks much better, but next time I don't want layers.

And every time they look at me uncomprehendingly and I know they're thinking, "Why not? You look just like Jennifer Anniston.

I'm really starting to get angry in that frustrated way that makes women cry against their will. It's so silly and weak and unimportant, yet here I am fighting back tears over my stupid hair which I had cut today.

I'm getting it colored tomorrow. Pray I don't go insane. Last time I had it colored it ended up bright orange.

I don't ask for much in the way of fashion or beauty, really. I'm content to capitalize on having large breasts and don't make much fuss about my clothes or make-up. But my hair. Please let me find someone who can help me with my stupid ugly fucking hair.