Shut up and eat your steak

Ten(ish) years ago, I drove past a cow and suddenly realized that I couldn't kill her. Thus, I gave up meat. But I have no beef (heh) with the meat-eaters outside of wishing they were less pathologically determined to prove that all vegetarians are morally superior hypocrites. Look, I'm fine with the mocking of PETA, and celebrate the mocking of any political group. What makes me nuts is the ease, or downright glee, with which the meat eater conflates PETA with ALL vegetarians. And then, when the vegetarian pushback happens, the response is so often smug anger. It's really annoying.

Laney's Eyes

So Laney didn't grow in me... she grew inside some wonderful Russian lady to whom I'm forever grateful. But she didn't grow in me. Still, check this out:

Don't our eyes look like they're the exact same color? Is it me? I wonder how that happens...

Avocado

Does anything taste better than fresh avocado?

SYTYCD

Wow... I thought Will was going to win!

It's not your every day reality show...

...since you'll never hear "I didn't come here to make friends" on SYTYCD. And it's better than Project Runway (the current standard bearer for "good" reality shows) because it's ONLY about the talent level of the contestants; crazy, stupid, SICK talent that will never be mitigated by a contestant referring to himself in the third person, or calling himself "Suede," or adopting retarded catch phrases ("Girlicious?" Really?) And Cat Deeley? I may love her as much as Tim Gunn if not maybe a wee bit more. And, the crazy, wonderful, beautiful DANCING!

Also, sometimes Will takes his shirt off.

Alright, Internets...

... this is the LAST time I'm going to tell you: there's only an apostrophe in it if you mean to say "it is."

If I see this again, you're going to timeout. I mean it.

All The Cute Girls...

All the girls in my house remain resolutely cute. Check it out:

And how about this one:


Sigh - sometimes I'm just so pleased with my life.

Only one cure for that: back to work!

Back with a Rant

Question: "How do you have the time to find all this political stuff on the Internet" (Intended translation: "I am too busy using my time productively to find this stuff." Unintended translation: "I don't know how to use the Internet very well").

Mental Answer: "I find time because I think it's important to know who Don Siegelman is and I think it's a shame you don't… because over-reliance on traditional media is (at least) as responsible for the Iraq debacle as the Bush Administration… because it matters."

Actual Answer: [sheepish look]

We got a DOG!

Back from vacation and a trip to the anti-cruelty society. Not the greatest picture, but OH! This doggie is cute!

Preemptive Responding

Imagine the following email:
"So, I was out last week with this guy and, NO, he wasn't a hermaphroditic dwarf with bad breath and a penchant for speaking in clichés!" Which surprises me and I think: "I wasn't thinking any of that! As a matter of fact, I had no preconceptions at all, Hector Projector!"

It's bullying. You're telling the reader that not only do you know how she thinks; you also think she's kind of stupid for thinking that way. Makes me crazier than the phrase "between you and I," which makes me CRAZY!

Lunchtime Posting - New Blog Rules

I never read long blog posts. I have an internetty attention span. So, I'm implementing a new blog rule as of today: no blog posts over 100 words. starting..... now!

My friend, Eric, IM-ed me this morning with his knickers all in a twist over Obama's FISA legislation vote. He says because of it, he'll at best vote begrudgingly for Obama. Oy to the veh, I say: if you're looking for someone who won't make votes that you disagree with, who won't bow to political expediency more often than not, who won't profoundly disappoint you from time to time, I hope you enjoy President McCain's Grand Iranian Adventure.

I remember this dance when it happened in 2000 and I'm not going again.

I sent Obama another $25 today.

Damn You Silas Marner

Everyone who had to read Silas Marner in high school says they hate George Eliot. So, I guess, everyone hates George Eliot.

Except me. I love George Eliot. Middlemarch is my favorite book and the wisest, kindest book I've ever had the pleasure to read. I can pick it up and read a random page or two and still, after having the read the book dozens of times, have an epiphanal moment. Or a moment where I read something that is as delicious and satisfying as a cigarette with a glass of good bourbon.

I am, to be fair, a sucker for any book where the heroes or heroines start off as assholes and then are redeemed (see Great Expectations for a classic example of this). I fucking love that. Dorothea is SUCH an asshole at the beginning of this book (with good reason). And that she turns out so wonderful, and in a way that feels so honest, is a testament to Eliot's abiding faith in humankind and why the book gives me such joy.

I love that book and could blog about it until the sun comes up (I've deleted about 10 paragraphs waxing rhapsodic about Middlemarch). It is rich. But, here's the real thing... I want to bring Dorothea to now. I know, I know ---done to death. It's a trope that's grown wearisome. And yet, I have this story in me and it won't go away.

I've outlined it and written character sketches. I've got a business hierarchy created around which to frame the novel. I think I know who Dorothea is in this modern world. For starters, she can't be called "Dorothea." I'll call her Brooke. It starts like this:

Brooke was a girl who looked prettier when she was mad. She raised her eyebrows a touch, making her dark eyes look bigger. She brushed her hair away from her face. Angry, she was prone to striding rather than walking, and her stride was kind of sexy (perhaps because her walk was kind of goofy).

Brooke was mad a lot.

Yeah - see that's terrible. I have the story and can't figure out how to start it. Frack

The Love Song of Tractor Square Dancing

(with deep, grave apologies to TS Eliot)

Let us go then, you and I
While it is the fourth of July
In Earlville, Iowa on a baseball field
Let us go, once the softball has ended,
And the ice cream licked
From waffle cones and dripping on the sodden ground
And the bingo games completed
And in the field the dancers are not lacked for,
And they are square dancing on tractors.

No! I am not a square dancer, nor was meant to be
Am a cool person, one that will do
To mock square dancing, snerk derisively
Nudge my husband, no doubt, a smartass tool
Smug, superior
Full of my own opinion, but a bit obtuse
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous –
Almost at times, the Fool

I grow old… I grow old…
I find the tractor square dancing kind of wonderful.

Shall I cut my hair real short? Do I dare to eschew eating meat?
I shall wear cuffed jean shorts, and walk amongst the cows
I have heard the piggies snorting, pig to pig.

I have seen them square dancing on tractors
Dosidoing their John Deeres across the municipal ballpark
When the floods receded and the corn was kind of short.

And the tractor square dancing was kind of awesome

Improv Everywhere

The RSS feed from Boing Boing is just the greatest thing. This is a group called Improv Everywhere and here's a terrific prank they pulled.

Tom Petty

DonBon and I went to Tom Petty last night. Here's my question: does ANYONE not like Tom Petty? Is there anyone who doesn't sing along with some satisfaction when Tom Petty comes on the radio? Also, Tom Petty looked kinda hot last night: all lanky and sexy. Granted, we were up in the nosebleeds, so Tom was kind of tiny. But, still. I guess rock gods are sexy.

The highlight for me was when he brought Steve Winwood out and they did "Can't Find My Way Home" which was just the BEST song to close the bar down too and a song I love love love. Here's a version or two:

Wilmette

Laney takes Mandarin Chinese in Wilmette, Illinois. When I drive to pick her up it's like entering a foreign land filled with rich people who either have or have hired people with unimpeachable taste. I love driving through that suburb and looking at all the pretty pretty houses. But still and all, I don't think I'd much like to live there.

That's a lie - I totally would: this world of tended lawns and attractive people with their children who all have perfect teeth. I wonder what it would be like to live amongst all those affluent white people. It's probably easier. But not really good for the world, is it? I think my urban life, with its shared spaces and walking is better for the world.

But, golly, those houses in Wilmette sure are pretty.

Of course, if I get my daughter all fluent in Chinese, she'll be able to make bank in the future when America becomes a wholly owned subsidiary of the Chinese. And then maybe she'll buy me a pretty pretty house in Wilmette. And a giant car. And perfect teeth.

Editing to add this picture of Laney again, so anyone reading this blog can see how far from Wilmette we are:

That's right - we dress Laney in paper bags. She makes them look good though.

Greatest Thing on the Internet

I am not kidding. This is the most strangely moving thing I've seen on the internets in my life. Makes me cry a little and feel totally happy too.


Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.