Hiatus?

I'm taking a break from Project Runway: The All Star Challenge to blog. I think I may have forgotten how to pay attention to television anyway. Which is sad, because I LOVE Project Runway. I love Tim Gunn. If he and Cat Deely were to ever join forces, the sheer power of their combined charm, taste, good looks, and genuine supportiveness would cause peace to spotaneously burst out in the middle east... AND in democratic townhall meeetings!

I'm also taking a permanent break from arguing about healthcare on the internet. Instead, I'm putting my little money where my mouth is and I went to Act Blue and gave them $25. If you want a public option too, give them some scratch. We got Barack Obama elected by raising money $25 at a time. Let's give the congressional dems a taste too. I know the cynics disagree, but I think we got a real shot at this thing. (I notice the people who say the public option is dead are the same people who thought Obama was going to lose the election. To quote CNN, just sayin'!)

And while I'm taking breaks from reality television and arguing healthcare, I'm taking a break from life too. We're heading off to scenic downtown Lake Ojiboki, Iowa for a few days of R&R and when I get back, I'm going to try to start really writing again. Which means also a break from this bloggy thing.

My plan is to try and get really disciplined about this thing. That said, all is not lost my 1.5 fans! If all works out as planned, I'll serialize weekly. If all works out as planned. Of course, when has THAT ever happened?

But one rant for the road. You know what really chaps my hide? People who refer to the president as "Barry." I get it. Barack is evidently some kind of subtle anti-American affectation and completely and entirely unrelated to the great, grand, gone Poobah of the Republican party having gone by Ronald instead of Ronnie. As Atrios so eloquently (and frequently) says: the stupid, it burns!

Adios for a few weeks!

Three Only Loosely Related Thoughts - None Even Bordering on Political

So, I accidentally quit smoking. I didn't mean to, only I ran out a few weeks ago. I used to have this nightly habit: once the dishes were done, work caught up on, child nestled all snug in her bed: I'd lean over the sink with a drink and a cigarette. It was awesome. But then I smoked the last one in a pack and every time I thought about running across the street to get some more, I figured I'd probably end up shot in a robbery or hit by a car and then the newspapers the next day would say "Mother,40, Killed Running Across the Street for Smokes." And since there's nothing shamier than smoking, they'd probably find some way to throw in how much I weigh. So, I just sort of fell out of the habit of leaning over the sink with a cigarette and when I did my life insurance bloodwork, my blood came back negative for nicotine.

Who'd of thunk?

Of course, if I find myself in the presence of one who has not accidentally quit smoking, I quickly metamorphose from someone who doesn't smoke to someone who "doesn't smoke."

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All day today I felt really fat and gross and jiggly. I have a rule that I'm not allowed to use the phrase "I feel fat" around my daughter. It is one of many fond wishes that I manage to, if not kill, at least thwart the body shame that women pass from generation to generation. My mother was almost always on a diet which was a shame because really loves food and would have been gorgeous even if she'd weighed 30 pounds more than she did. It'd be nice to be able to really relish a meal without feeling guilty about it almost immediately after. Maybe that can happen for Laney.

What's weird, though, about my particular body issues is that they're pretty fleeting. Today I felt fat and gross and jiggly. Tomorrow, I'll put on heels and a dress and then on the way to work I'll catch some guy checking me out and I'll feel great about myself.

There's a sad little self esteem irony, huh?

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Poetry hour! I decided to read poetry to Laney tonight. She never wants to do it, until we get a poem or two in to Where the Sidewalk Ends. If you have kids, you can totally hook them on poetry with Dreadful. Just make sure you really burp at the end.

The thing about Shel Silverstein, though, is that his poetry is only ostensibly for kids. As you leaf through, you'll stumble across a poem that's so wistful and lovely you know there's no way a six year old would get it. Shel slipped it in there for the mommies and the daddies. Like this one. Read it aloud. It's Shel Fucking Silverstein - you can read THAT much poetry, can't you? Aloud?

Forgotten Language

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers...
How did it go?
How did it go?

Sigh. It's so wonderful watching your kid speak that language but, dammitalltohell, isn't it sad knowing that you never will again?

Downer, huh? Click on the link for Dreadful. It's awesome. Especially if you really burp.

Two Notes on Two Amendments

First Amendment: I am not infringing upon your first amendment rights if I call you rude or stupid or ill-informed or a giant sucker. I am exercising mine.

Second Amendment*: If you think your rights as an American are being infringed upon because you are not allowed to carry a loaded sidearm into a presidential rally, you are nuts. Nutsaroo. Nutty McCrazypants.

Also, if you are Chris Matthews, you should not be giving a forum to Nutty McCrazypants.

Finally, if you are Chris Matthews and you ignore my good advice and have Nutty McCrazypants on your show, you can at the very least insist that he articulate what American freedoms are being lost BESIDES the right to carry a loaded weapon into a presidential rally.

Sigh. Sometimes I love Chris. Other times, I want to punch him in the junk.

* Typically I hate it when a blogger answers a question that hasn't been asked. Like when they say "I don't like cats. And, no, I don't think kittens should be drowned for sport." Are you familiar with that stylistic meme? It's creepy; a way for the writer to articulate her point and then assume that anyone who disagrees does so because they're bonkers. That said, I do feel like I should mention that, no, I don't think guns should be outlawed. I don't know many people who do. I think if you want to own a gun, don't have a criminal record and will abide by sensible gun control laws (like, you know, you can't bring one into a presidential rally), more power to ya. Guns scare the shit out of me. But so do junebugs. And I don't think junebugs should be illegal.

Loudmouths

It has gotten LOUD out there, hasn't it?

Think of those dimwits screeching about socialism and how Barack has six letters in it and so does Hitler and A HA STALINISMCAKES!!!!! This leaves me wanting to stand on a chair and scream "WHYAREYOUSUCHAGIANTDOUCHEYDUMMY?" You can see how I might be concerned about the productivity of such a move.

I admire people who can coolly and calmly address issues. Once I saw Molly Ivins, Bill O'Reilly and Al Franken on the same panel. O'Reilly was typically red-faced, incoherent and furious. Franken kept interrupting him, trying to correct, as O'Reilly laid slander and stupidity upon stupider stupidity and slandery slander. Molly Ivins just sat there taking notes and then, when called upon, revealed herself as the smartest, savviest one there. Hold back, take notes, and then destroy them with the force of sheer logic. Franken was delighted. O'Reilly had on his "Fuck it! We'll do it live!"face. It was awesome.

Barack Obama seems to have driven the right completely bananas. I mean, Rush Limbaugh is up on his show telling his audience, who, let's face it, probably ain't the sharpest tacks in the toolshed, that if Obama gets his way, it will be the end of representative democracy and that a bunch of men in black (or black men, which sort of seems to be implied) are coming to kill your grannies.

So, is yelling back helpful or not? I keep waiting for Obama to pull a Molly Ivins (she would have loved him, I suspect, and also been wildly disappointed in him. There are no words for how much I miss her hilarious, kind and trenchant analysis). The problem is that there's no moderator. No one seems to be calling on the folks who've held back and taken notes. It's all heat and no light and it really sounds like the leading conservative voices in the media are dog whistling some pretty heavy shit.

I'm kinda freaked out. But I also remember during the primary, when K.O. did a special comment about how Hillary Clinton was dog whistling an Obama assassination. Dude, I fucking HATED Hillary Clinton during the campaign, but even I thought that was pushing it. (Hillary will, I'm sure, be glad to know that I once again love her and have left all that primary craziness behind). Are we lefties freaking out over nothing? Surely there can't be that many people who really think that Barack Obama is a stalinist, muslim, kenyan usurper who hates old people and mentally disabled babies, right? Right? RIGHT?