Tuesday, May 31, 2005
neither did we when we started to watch it.
(20 minutes into it, after the crucial party scene, i say to my roommate, 'um, i think this is a church movie.' she says, 'no way.'
later, after the heroine chastely rebuffs the rake, i say, 'i bet this was made by the church of latter day saints.' check it out. as movies made for religoius audiences go, it's not...that...bad.)
Monday, May 30, 2005
LRB | Eliot Weinberger : What I Heard about Iraq
Saturday, May 28, 2005
the plan was rather simple. our office closed early but then my department decided, 'hey, let them leave even earlier!' yay, so happy were we. so i took a meeting at our annual meeting site, walked down wacker drive and helped two business men find the hyatt regency, bought a coffee at starpricks and then began to edit a document and clean out my inbox. i was going to be outta there by 1.30 and on my way to see B-. (more on that later.)
then our annual meeting awards arrived. i had to unwrap and check each one and, of course, found three that had come completely apart. two hours unwrapping, wrapping, checking, fed exing, complaining to awards guy. sweating. my white cotton ramie coolness that B- was to later unwrap and defile was soon grunty dusty papercut and funky.
(jesus. on the annoying music show, they're singing about anthropology and the classification of the 'races of man.' they just said negroid.)
speaking of B- the afternoon tryst was a little lackluster. not on his part. on mine. i wasn't present at all. sort of discouraged. he and i have nothing to talk about. i thought that was an impossibility, but it's sort of true. after dozing on the train ride up north (while an old black man stared at me the whole time) i arrived at B-'s, spilling half a bottle of water all over myself crashing through the front door. we sat on the couch.
i said, so how are things?
he said, i don't want to talk about work.
i said, ok. what about the B- that isn't work? how are you?
he said, i really don't have much time other than work. it was a really tough semester. i really don't like talking about work. i mean, if you were really interested in my work, i guess.
i said, i am interested in your work. why wouldn't i be?
so he shrugged and vented for a good while about his department and review last week. i didn't mind this at all. i like watching men talk about their work, especially if they enjoy it. and he does. he's good at what he does. he's smart and tough. i like that.
so we talked about other things. sort of. it wasn't real conversation. just interjections, non sequitors. my dad may be moving to chicago, i just started a student newspaper, i love my new job, i have to teach over the summer. one thing, though. when i told him how i'd been afraid about this choice i'd made about my life, my new job, he said, really? i don't think of you as being much afraid of anything.
this misreading is the heart of our problem. we don't know each other at all, despite knowing each other for about three years. (there are those who know how afraid i am; there's one man i've never met who knows me much better than B- does me. he knows how i fear failure, intimacy, commitment, change, the ocean; others know how i fear acid thrown in my face, blindness, prison and leprosy.) i could assume the blame for our gulf, but i don't want to carry it all on my own.
anyway, the rest of of the evening sagged. my mind was racing to other places far from that gray lit dusky apartment; he was valiant in the effort to bring me satisfaction but when i couldn't i just became generous in my willingness to make the rest 'about him.' the only time i caught a glimpse of the inner B- was when i was stretched out on the floor of his living room, watching him pick obscure chicano rock albums from his time in san antonio, listening to him sing offkey to question mark & the mysterians.
it was the most naked i had seen him and when he lifted the needle from the last record and began to kiss my neck i was sorry it had to end.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
this friday our office closes early and i think i'm going to meet B- when he's finished teaching. think? i know i'll meet him. we circle each other like pigeons pecking at a crumb. after i eat the crumb, like persephone, i say, 'ok, that was one for the road. never again.' but then a month passes and...'hey, wanna grab a glass of wine?' funny. he doesn't even have a bottle opener.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
hey, let's congratulate ourselves for pulling back from the brink of 'nucular' disaster. hey, good for us and our moderation. let's hear it for compromise. yay for us...
you do know, don't you, those three wacko judges are gonna be confirmed.
yeah. good job.
it seems to have run away from blogger...
Monday, May 23, 2005
today was a hard day. right under deadline, i finished writing my first non-profit sanctioned proposal! yay! it was fun! i love my job. i know i'll get tired of saying it, but for now, i am loving where i am. i've NEVER felt that before. yes, there are things i wish for, like a free pantry with a fridge full of soft drinks and a cupboard full of snacks you can order from pea pod. but when you're asking for pocket change to fund a program against sexual violence and abuse, i guess i can suck it up and bring my own effing soda.
I am Indie Girl
Click on the picture below to read more:
gorgeous weekend in chicago. police officers tasered a belligerent baseball fan (those cubbies), a mother got her kidnapped baby back, a teenager was lost in the lake and never recovered, and oprah did a show on why women are most likely wearing the wrong size bra. (more on this later.)
saw star wars: RotS. or, Why George Lucas Can't Write Motivations for Shit. yes, it was 'better' than the others, but some quibbles:
- so...it's ok for padme to be pregnant and shacking up with her jedi boyfriend (secret husband), but not not ok to be pregnant AND a senator?
- despite it being 'the future', no one can figure out she's carrying twins?
- despite it being 'the future' no one can figure out how to stop a woman from dying in childbirth?
- and why, if he's all a jedi stickler, can't mace windu just wait to bring the chancellor to trial? why fly off the handle?? heat of battle? didn't search his feelings enough? huh?
- and isn't it really clear that the jedi aren't really all that smart? i mean, come on - who ELSE could have slaughtered younglings in the temple? maybe if there was a little less meditating and a little more investigating, this whole thing could have been avoided? shouldn't you have an intelligence network, at least?
- wouldn't anakin have been better off if everyone stopped telling him to 'search his feelings'? seems like it was his 'feelings' (i feel you're going to die, i feel like you don't trust me, i feel stupid) that got him in trouble. how about telling him to use his brain?
- how come, despite it being 'the future', everyone dresses like crap? no one is hot in the future.
- and who are the sith? a people, an ideology, a club? do i care anymore?
- AND, if R2D2 can do all this cool stuff, how come it didn't do it later? it forgot??
back to oprah and why she cares about my breasts. i have been wearing the wrong size bra. did you know that, in a correct bra, the apex of your breast is supposed to be the midway point between your shoulder and your elbow? new to me. i hate my bra. i can't wait to take it off when i get home. well, i may have found something to replace my bra. this. in fact, i love the whole spanx line. i wear their fishnets and they rock. they hold everything in, smoothes your lumps - who doesn't like that? it's not necessarily sexy, but then again, i'm not dressing to get it on in the office.
this is middle age, isn't it? when you start wondering about comfortable shoes and wearing support underwear.
Friday, May 20, 2005
if you scroll down to the 9/4/2003 quote, click on the reference for the CBO report.
the money quote:
"The percentage effect of H.R. 4600 on overall health insurance premiums would be far smaller than the percentage impact on medical malpractice insurance premiums. Malpractice costs account for a very small fraction of total health care spending; even a very large reduction in malpractice costs would have a relatively small effect on total health plan premiums. In addition, some of the savings leading to lower medical malpractice premiums--those savings arising from changes in the treatment of collateral-source benefits--would represent a shift in costs from medical malpractice insurance to health insurance. Because providers of collateral-source benefits would be prevented from recovering their costs arising from the malpractice injury, some of the costs that would be borne by malpractice insurance under current law would instead be borne by the providers of collateral-source benefits. Most such providers are health insurers." [emphasis mine]
so. are outrageous malpractice suits damaging the country and ruining ordinary people and small businesses? i don't think so. neither does the congressional budget office.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
and then i'm going to wash my hair.
uh, and the deadline for the grant i'm supposed to be writing is coming up and i gotta work on that, too. dude.
1. wow. god really does protect idiots. (come on, you know you were thinking the same thing...)
2. maybe i'll include this on my list of science reading for the summer. but a question: in this entire article, isn't there some implicit understanding of the orgasm as a fundamental heterosexual function? i mean, what about masturbation? or even lesbian action?
3. a thought: i don't want to frolic with B-- when i meet him for a drink. yes, he was incredible the last time we were together but now...i'd really like my sex to actually mean something important. i was telling my ex-roomie this while we crossed the river this morning and a man walking behind us guffawed. but i'm serious. i want sex to actually start meaning more than just a way for me to burn calories and get my hair all messed up.
4. another thought: i need a really hot black shoe to wear with an office dress. one what won't make me walk funny or slow or slip off while crossing the street or get stuck in a grate or pinch my toes or hurt my knees or inflame my sciatica. any suggestions?
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
"Wal Mart comes from a culture where there is no accountability for the rich. And it's corporate practices, largely taking place in rural America, were not under any real scrutiny. But as the company grows, the management hasn't grown into it's responsibilities to match it's size."
say it with me, people: pronominal possessive!! aargh! ITS!!
Monday, May 16, 2005
sanctified FDA administrators sodomizing their wives against their will; holy books flushed down phantom toilets; anti-gay activists advocating man on mule action; school boards redefining science until it resembles...religion.
you leave the room for a little while and all hell breaks loose. what the hell?
when you look at the world have you ever just wanted a huge flaming comet to hurtle straight toward us and put us out of our obvious misery?
in other news, i am the current object of fantasy for sub-dom play. i'm having trouble seeing that.
and once i have the time to figure out the button thing (why don't i know computer whiz people who live down the block from me?) then i'll add it.
yikes. hm. did fox mean to imply that blacks are the natural workers for menial jobs? did he mean to refer to an american working class that has seen a shift in labor from black to brown? (for instance, the fact my father used to be a bus boy in ihop back in the 60s and now most of those we see in those types of jobs are latino)? did he mean to racialize the hiring practices of most of the american service industry when the reality is a confluence of economics and exploitation?
who knows? all we heard him say was something bad about black people.
guess i'll have to start pilfering the print edition.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
of course, check in with me in a couple of months, or even next week, and maybe i'll have a different story. (changing my story has been known to happen...)
blogging will pick up over the weekend when i have a chance to catch up.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
We come in different colors, heights and bone structures, people. A slight, thin-boned, narrow hipped woman looks like she should be skinny, so when she is, it doesn't usually look awkward. But a super-skinny woman who has solid bones and broad hips just looks like she starves herself, and her too-skinny-to-ever-meet thighs look like the warped, dried-out swinging doors of a ghost-town saloon when she walks down the street.
that made me snort. read her! now!
who cares that the office is a little tiny? who cares that there are no supplies? who cares that this one office creates more paper than a small nation?? one small grant project is on the horizon and other projects are on my desk. i'm so thrilled.
of course this giddiness will fade as i go further, but for now it's perfect. perfect.
in other news, it was really hot today. and sticky. wrong time to have a 'fro.
Monday, May 09, 2005
the article is brutal. and shaming.
resources from the bottom of the page:
Anglo American, Banro and First Quantum are among approximately 20 multinational mining companies working in the DRC; they might be pressured to focus some attention on the crisis endured by Congo women.
The Panzi Hospital is run by PMU Interlife, the Swedish Pentecostal Mission, the sole funder for the hospital; they promise to channel all specified donations directly to Panzi: Box 4093
Letters to urge more funding for the U.N. mission and to express outrage at the involvement of U.N. peacekeepers in furthering the abuse of Congo women should go to:
U.N. Secretary General Kofi Annan
First Ave at 46th St.,
New York, NY 10017
Saturday, May 07, 2005
I met someone the other day. We only had one conversation but he reminded me of you. He even looked a little like you – tall, bearded, broad. He recognized the Billy Collins line ‘pages with tiny sentences.’ He named bands that flew right over my head. Talking with him felt familiar. That kind of recognition happened only once before. Reflected in you I saw a friend from my past, a friend I should have held closer. In this one’s conversation, you’re the shadow in the mirror.
This is guilt: when a person makes a mistake that goes unacknowledged, that person is doomed to repeat it, to keep living it, until she gets it right or, at least admits her mistake. Here is my guilty admission: my legs gave out and I never told you. I couldn’t go the distance. I broke my word.
I still wish I knew how you are. Selfish, I know. But in that I'm consistent.
Friday, May 06, 2005
so, as usual, i was just under the wire this year filing my taxes. i filed online and was set to receive a not too shabby refund. i looked forward to this refund considering this is my LotD period (Lady of the Day, for the uninitiated.)
so i waited the requisite 5-10 business days. no deposit of healthy influx of cash from my government. checked a week later...and so on. then, monday, i received a bland white envelope from our friendly dept of the treasury. if i was slightly paler i think i would have blanched when i opened it.
in a crisp tone i was informed that since i still had an outstanding debt (bad student loan, bad!) they decided to apply my tax refund to the debt. helpful of them, huh?
here endeth the lesson: do not fuck with uncle sam's money.
i guess shaw wasn't a big fan of the 3-up/3-down method of constructive criticism.
yes. RUN it. he's involved with the grant and development aspect and now he needs someone to organize and take charge of one of their three main program areas: charity, outreach, or education.
silly fears: huh? that's too much! if i'm interested and he wants me to come aboard, what if it's too big? what if i can't handle it? what if what if what if? what if (gasp) i'm doomed to FAILURE??
i hate spinning in circles like this, being caught in a vortex of cowardice. where is the fearless woman i thought i was? where is the woman who up and left the safety of academia to come to chicago and live in a studio apartment in boystown just because? where is the woman who bravely decided not to fight for a job she hated and quit? where's that foolhardy chick who, once upon a time, traveled to far cities to meet boys she only just 'met' online?? where's that woman?
if you find her, please tell her to give me a call.
UPDATED: The national woman centric non-profit just called to make me an offer and I SAID YES!! I'm in! I no longer have to prostrate myself before the hog of Capital!! Instead, I'll be laid out in front of the little squirrel called Service to Others!! I'm so happy I could make myself a celebratory margerita right now!
In fact, I'll do just that! (In the meantime, if anyone knows of any nifty budgeting tricks and ways to get by on less than 32k/yr, I'd love to hear it. Really. I'm not kidding.)
meanwhile, the Worst Romance Novel in the World is chugging along nicely. our hero and heroine have just successfully snogged and are presently experiencing recriminations and just barely bridled lust.
Thursday, May 05, 2005
this morning was a room full of married men talking about their cheating (while their wives listen from another room, no less). the best part? when gently confronted by his wife a skinny husband starts to cry; the sight of his wimpy tears incurs the wrath of the Mighty O who berates him - 'your tears don't mean a damn thing. you're playing at relationship and you need to strip yourself naked in front of your wife and be honest! be honest! stop your cryin', step up and be a real man!'
the lesson? do NOT confess to cheating and cry in front of Mighty O. she will kick you in your ass, yank off your pud and then make you eat it - on TV.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
what a pain - especially when you're pretty sure the lukewarm words from your ex-ceo will totally drive a nail in your employment coffin. perhaps i didn't do enough to hide the boredom and contempt i had for my job. hm. always a problem. and perhaps i necessarily wasn't inspired by the endless tedious task of managing her calendar. and maybe i hated my job with a hatred that burned hotter than a sunspot. and maybe they knew that.
but that's no reason not to LIE and say, Ding is a fabulous wonderful person and you would be lucky to have her at your non profit agency. hire her!
see? that's not so hard.
Monday, May 02, 2005
He can talk to anyone
He’s dedicated to his ideas and lives with integrity
He’s emotional (sometimes too emotional – dude, you cry more than I do!!)
He looks really handsome in his clerical collar and women dig him (heh)
Then there are the things that make me want to scream:
He still doesn’t understand women (he loves us, but he doesn’t quite get us)
His ability to read a room is still uneven
His way of listening bears a strong resemblance to talking over you
I don’t think I truly understood until this weekend how much distance stands between his generation and mine; he was genuinely puzzled by my assertion that lovers should be friends and I was totally in the dark when he tried to explain what it meant to be ‘female’. Some of our conversations seemed to be at such cross purposes we may have needed a translator.
But there isn’t such a distance that I couldn’t see why I’ve chosen the life I have and the people I share that life with. You see, despite all my father’s weird-ass 61 yr old befuddlement at pop culture (Desperate Housewives almost killed him) and birth control (do NOT get him started on why black men don’t like condoms) my dad’s a guy who knows what he knows and will dig in the dirt until you finally eke out a position of your own to stand by. He honestly doesn’t care what you think of him (in that good way – though there are disturbing similarities to george w bush’s ‘resolve’ that makes me want to hit somebody); he just cares that people are thinking. And he honestly wanted to know what my friends thought about everything – sex, men, relationships, the Bible, our families, each other. (I think he freaked out my friend T- who was mortified at his whole idea of femininity and church; unsurprisingly, my father is a big fan of patriarchy.) His strong personality made me used to the strong personalities of my own friends.
In him, as much as they might shudder, I see aspects of my friends (or is it the other way 'round?):
They can talk to anyone (especially people like my dad)
They’re dedicated to their ideals and live with integrity
They look really good and people dig them