The New York Times > New York Region > Tough Guys, Shapely Eyebrows
His girlfriend, Margie Sola, had other ideas on the matter. She thought he looked like the love child of Albert Einstein and Bert from "Sesame Street." "His face was a big mess," she said.
snort.
Friday, December 31, 2004
Thursday, December 30, 2004
declaration of independence
when do we 30-somethings ever get the right to blow off our parental units and just spend the holidays the way we want?
green fairy asks the same question over on her space; bookslut makes faint mention of her holidays being a 'complete failure'; my friend R-- expressed jealousy at my stay at home christmas. almost every single one of my friends who visited family clocked at least 6 hours travel time and perhaps 2 hours of pure happiness over the weekend.
it's time for the hegemony of the holiday family visit to end.
let's declare our independence and be honest: these visits blow. they're stressful and if your family has turned your old room into dad's new office, then you're also out of a bed. if you're single, you don't really want to hang out with all the children and if you're married, you really don't want to hang out with all the children. the dear parents try to recreate a holiday that somehow existed back when you were eight, which only makes you sad; your siblings have moved to the next level of married/homeowner life (or not) and that's sad, too. no one's youthful anymore, the forced cheer is depressing and the over-scheduling of your days like you're a five year old on a play date is turning you into, well, a sullen teenager.
and sex? forget it. the holidays are the sexiest time of year and how do we choose to spend it? sleeping on an air mattress in the family room. what's sexy about that??
after your third temper tantrum over which bottle of wine to have with dinner you realize that the holidays have stripped you of of the identity you've carefully and deliberately constructed ever since you moved away from home. within hours you're no longer the snarky urban gadabout; you're 15 , misunderstood, there's no good music on the radio, you have no friends and you can't wait to get the hell out of town and move to the big city. (or, in my case, move out of the big city and move to another big city - just one that's 2000 miles away.)
it doesn't feel like a holiday. it feels like you've been grounded. it doesn't feel like a relaxing break from your busy life. it feels like a punishing squeeze into someone else's busy life. so let's be honest. we don't want to see our families over the holidays unless some things change. below are my demands, er - suggestions:
- visit me once in a while (hotels are plentiful!)
- what says holiday cheer more than a cocktail? beer, wine, champagne or eggnog, i don't care. but a little grog goes a long way to smooth out the rough edges.
- where's the fun? i don't want to run errands. i want to go to movies, go shopping, eat out, drink in, and sleep late. why doesn't everyone want that?
- get a babysitter.
if we start applying pressure on our families now, come next november, we should have the holidays of our dreams.
green fairy asks the same question over on her space; bookslut makes faint mention of her holidays being a 'complete failure'; my friend R-- expressed jealousy at my stay at home christmas. almost every single one of my friends who visited family clocked at least 6 hours travel time and perhaps 2 hours of pure happiness over the weekend.
it's time for the hegemony of the holiday family visit to end.
let's declare our independence and be honest: these visits blow. they're stressful and if your family has turned your old room into dad's new office, then you're also out of a bed. if you're single, you don't really want to hang out with all the children and if you're married, you really don't want to hang out with all the children. the dear parents try to recreate a holiday that somehow existed back when you were eight, which only makes you sad; your siblings have moved to the next level of married/homeowner life (or not) and that's sad, too. no one's youthful anymore, the forced cheer is depressing and the over-scheduling of your days like you're a five year old on a play date is turning you into, well, a sullen teenager.
and sex? forget it. the holidays are the sexiest time of year and how do we choose to spend it? sleeping on an air mattress in the family room. what's sexy about that??
after your third temper tantrum over which bottle of wine to have with dinner you realize that the holidays have stripped you of of the identity you've carefully and deliberately constructed ever since you moved away from home. within hours you're no longer the snarky urban gadabout; you're 15 , misunderstood, there's no good music on the radio, you have no friends and you can't wait to get the hell out of town and move to the big city. (or, in my case, move out of the big city and move to another big city - just one that's 2000 miles away.)
it doesn't feel like a holiday. it feels like you've been grounded. it doesn't feel like a relaxing break from your busy life. it feels like a punishing squeeze into someone else's busy life. so let's be honest. we don't want to see our families over the holidays unless some things change. below are my demands, er - suggestions:
- visit me once in a while (hotels are plentiful!)
- what says holiday cheer more than a cocktail? beer, wine, champagne or eggnog, i don't care. but a little grog goes a long way to smooth out the rough edges.
- where's the fun? i don't want to run errands. i want to go to movies, go shopping, eat out, drink in, and sleep late. why doesn't everyone want that?
- get a babysitter.
if we start applying pressure on our families now, come next november, we should have the holidays of our dreams.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
tsunami relief: some ways to help
my alter ego, ChurchGal, has a list of ways to donate money to help with the tsunami disaster.
if you can, check it out and give a little.
they really need it.
if you can, check it out and give a little.
they really need it.
chit chat
sigh. they suck.
so, riding the wave of general pissed-offness from yesterday's post about the dnc giving women the finger, i surfed on over to the dnc's official blog. not only do they not mention the fact they're contemplating a position shift on abortion (and if anyone can point me to a place where they own up to that shit, i'll be suitably chastised) their open thread is full of bullshit meanderings about nature, moles, baby boomers and...that's about it.
aargh. this is our party: idle chit chat.
so, riding the wave of general pissed-offness from yesterday's post about the dnc giving women the finger, i surfed on over to the dnc's official blog. not only do they not mention the fact they're contemplating a position shift on abortion (and if anyone can point me to a place where they own up to that shit, i'll be suitably chastised) their open thread is full of bullshit meanderings about nature, moles, baby boomers and...that's about it.
aargh. this is our party: idle chit chat.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
sell outs: Democratic Leadership Rethinking Abortion
Democratic Leadership Rethinking Abortion
fucking hell. i hate being right.
on a ndn chatboard, i screeded that the dnc would sell out brown people, women and gays - all for the sheeny shine of winning. (and remember that earlier post musing which of our progressive principles we should dump?) our party is so pathologically soulless, we are going to go soft on reproductive rights for women so we can turn some fucking red states blue.
you know what people on my side of the tracks call that shit?
we call it shit.
and what progressive has EVER advocated for late term abortion on demand?? jeebus.
what else are we going to go soft on, people? what else are we going to take a dive on? what else are we going to compromise for the allure of winning? do i want to win? yes! i want to kick republican ass all over the place. but we win with our values and with actions that support those values. by going soft on abortion, we lose everything.
so so so pissed angry.
hmm...let's see. which constituents has the dnc screwed...?
brown people, check.
women, check.
who's next?
[update: here's where to go to give the dnc some feedback.]
fucking hell. i hate being right.
on a ndn chatboard, i screeded that the dnc would sell out brown people, women and gays - all for the sheeny shine of winning. (and remember that earlier post musing which of our progressive principles we should dump?) our party is so pathologically soulless, we are going to go soft on reproductive rights for women so we can turn some fucking red states blue.
you know what people on my side of the tracks call that shit?
we call it shit.
and what progressive has EVER advocated for late term abortion on demand?? jeebus.
what else are we going to go soft on, people? what else are we going to take a dive on? what else are we going to compromise for the allure of winning? do i want to win? yes! i want to kick republican ass all over the place. but we win with our values and with actions that support those values. by going soft on abortion, we lose everything.
so so so pissed angry.
hmm...let's see. which constituents has the dnc screwed...?
brown people, check.
women, check.
who's next?
[update: here's where to go to give the dnc some feedback.]
James Wolcott: Artificial Snowflakes Can Say So Much
A-- and i were totally late to a party because we watched 'white christmas' all the way to the end. and vera-ellen's legs? totally a gross out. when she's doing that tap number in that little yellow bloomer/dress thing? yikes, you can see her connective tissues.
ick.
A-- and i were totally late to a party because we watched 'white christmas' all the way to the end. and vera-ellen's legs? totally a gross out. when she's doing that tap number in that little yellow bloomer/dress thing? yikes, you can see her connective tissues.
ick.
christmas in my belly
i won't bore you with copious details of this past christmas (especially after boring you with the details of past ones) but this was one of the best holidays ever. and, unfortunately, i owed the fabulosity to the fact i stayed home in chicago.
no travel, no going back to los angeles, no fussing with the kiddies, no kitting out on my dad's couch (grr). i was child-free, sunshine free, traffic free and it was marvelous. A--'s mother taught us how to play mah-jong (my own asian mother would have been proud), we cooked a wonderful beef burgundy, ate cheese, drank copious amounts of champagne, had a decadent christmas morning brunch at home with a leek tart and mimosas, exchanged girly creams, emollients, lotions and candles, drank wine, listened to great music, saw good theater (hurray for gospel music), dined in a fantastic french restaurant and sang carols at 4th pres at midnight (though the dixieland 'go tell it on the mountain' for the recession was a bit much, i thought.)
the air here was bitter, like a woman left at the altar a few too many times. but the sun was bright and on christmas eve i finished shopping for my roommate and met BC for lunch, humming with satisfaction. while waiting for him at la scarola, a tiny italian joint on grand ave with some of the best food i've ever had, i slowly sipped a glass of chianti and read billy collins' new collection of poetry. BC arrived, bearing a thrift store wrapped present: a scene from shakespeare's King John mounted on a little prayer book, behind glass. i thought it was sweet, A-- thought it was hilarious and strange. ('it's so not you,' she said.)
but anyway, it was a great weekend. i hope everyone had as good a one. (even M--, far away in a strange place. happy new year, sweetie.)
no travel, no going back to los angeles, no fussing with the kiddies, no kitting out on my dad's couch (grr). i was child-free, sunshine free, traffic free and it was marvelous. A--'s mother taught us how to play mah-jong (my own asian mother would have been proud), we cooked a wonderful beef burgundy, ate cheese, drank copious amounts of champagne, had a decadent christmas morning brunch at home with a leek tart and mimosas, exchanged girly creams, emollients, lotions and candles, drank wine, listened to great music, saw good theater (hurray for gospel music), dined in a fantastic french restaurant and sang carols at 4th pres at midnight (though the dixieland 'go tell it on the mountain' for the recession was a bit much, i thought.)
the air here was bitter, like a woman left at the altar a few too many times. but the sun was bright and on christmas eve i finished shopping for my roommate and met BC for lunch, humming with satisfaction. while waiting for him at la scarola, a tiny italian joint on grand ave with some of the best food i've ever had, i slowly sipped a glass of chianti and read billy collins' new collection of poetry. BC arrived, bearing a thrift store wrapped present: a scene from shakespeare's King John mounted on a little prayer book, behind glass. i thought it was sweet, A-- thought it was hilarious and strange. ('it's so not you,' she said.)
but anyway, it was a great weekend. i hope everyone had as good a one. (even M--, far away in a strange place. happy new year, sweetie.)
Delicious Biting
my friend, julie's blog.
it's about food, the surreality of living in l.a. and just about everything in between.
i already love it and her photos rock.
like me, she chucked the academic life (she literally threw her dissertation into the seine) and her wry, dry, acerbic words do more to make me feel at home than most anything.
i hope you enjoy her.
it's about food, the surreality of living in l.a. and just about everything in between.
i already love it and her photos rock.
like me, she chucked the academic life (she literally threw her dissertation into the seine) and her wry, dry, acerbic words do more to make me feel at home than most anything.
i hope you enjoy her.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
therapy
Scared of Santa photo gallery
thanks to growing up in a baptist household, i never suffered through this ritual of sitting on some old guy's lap and whispering in his ear.
apparently, it's scarring.
thanks to growing up in a baptist household, i never suffered through this ritual of sitting on some old guy's lap and whispering in his ear.
apparently, it's scarring.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
the day is dark and cold and i want to run the clock backwards, back to the time i was curled in my dark soft lumpy bed and everything was perfect. we're lurching toward another holiday and i admit to feeling decidedly un-christmas-like (bill o'reilly and his campaign to save christmas can kiss my ass.)
we have lost the war in the middle east, our soldiers are fodder for missiles and bombs; our president still has the ability to rouse hatred and vomiting in at least half the populace (oh, for a freakish cosmic accident that will show our POTUS bursting into flame as he touches the bible during his inauguration, the first recorded human combustible); every conversation i have with a conservative brings up bile and contempt and if i am ever to exercise control over my temper i will have to shun them - or resign myself to immediate ad hominem attacks and call them vile, deceitful cramps who would rather lick the brown boot of karl rove than help their fellow man.
and where is my side of political spectrum? (crickets, crickets)
there is much to celebrate - life, family, friends, liberty and straight teeth. but there is all that stuff above. there is the new boy, who haltingly told me the story of his divorce last night while we sat in a red and green lit tiki room in river grove; below the muted giggling and chatter around us, he spread his hands and shrugged and said all he ever wanted was to be loved and isn't that what this life is about? and i could only nod and crunch another pretzel.
there is the story of the woman and the carved out baby, but there is also the mini-skirted octogenarian woman in a river grove bowling alley who walked her ball down the lane, dropped it with a thud and watched as it rolled, as if by a magnet, to a strike; then she'd turn, shuffle back to her table and flick a smile at her equally shriveled husband who just watched her roll strike after strike after strike. it could have been sad but it looked sweet to me.
there's doesn't seem to be time for reflection this time of year, although i suppose that's what it's for - to slow us down and make us see the world a little differently, as a thing worth saving, inhabited by tiny lonely people shuffling to...something.
but, in the abridged words of my roommate, why does everyone have to suck so much?
we have lost the war in the middle east, our soldiers are fodder for missiles and bombs; our president still has the ability to rouse hatred and vomiting in at least half the populace (oh, for a freakish cosmic accident that will show our POTUS bursting into flame as he touches the bible during his inauguration, the first recorded human combustible); every conversation i have with a conservative brings up bile and contempt and if i am ever to exercise control over my temper i will have to shun them - or resign myself to immediate ad hominem attacks and call them vile, deceitful cramps who would rather lick the brown boot of karl rove than help their fellow man.
and where is my side of political spectrum? (crickets, crickets)
there is much to celebrate - life, family, friends, liberty and straight teeth. but there is all that stuff above. there is the new boy, who haltingly told me the story of his divorce last night while we sat in a red and green lit tiki room in river grove; below the muted giggling and chatter around us, he spread his hands and shrugged and said all he ever wanted was to be loved and isn't that what this life is about? and i could only nod and crunch another pretzel.
there is the story of the woman and the carved out baby, but there is also the mini-skirted octogenarian woman in a river grove bowling alley who walked her ball down the lane, dropped it with a thud and watched as it rolled, as if by a magnet, to a strike; then she'd turn, shuffle back to her table and flick a smile at her equally shriveled husband who just watched her roll strike after strike after strike. it could have been sad but it looked sweet to me.
there's doesn't seem to be time for reflection this time of year, although i suppose that's what it's for - to slow us down and make us see the world a little differently, as a thing worth saving, inhabited by tiny lonely people shuffling to...something.
but, in the abridged words of my roommate, why does everyone have to suck so much?
so it's slow at the office...
NPR : Making Sperm, No Men Necessary
i'm sending this article to my dad just to see how bad he'll freak out.
i'm sending this article to my dad just to see how bad he'll freak out.
Girl in the Locker Room!
Girl in the Locker Room!
she was one of the first women sports reporters allowed in the locker room, back in the day. i like her blog - it's like reading the letters from someone's cool, ballsy mom.
she was one of the first women sports reporters allowed in the locker room, back in the day. i like her blog - it's like reading the letters from someone's cool, ballsy mom.
what did they think would happen?
The New York Times > AP > International > Company Admits Indonesia Mercury Release
did they think the mercury would just magically disappear??
idiots.
did they think the mercury would just magically disappear??
idiots.
get over it
The New York Times > Health > Vital Signs: Behavior: Sweaty Palms at the Pharmacy
are these young men and women also sheepish when they have to buy tampons? we have raised a generation of sexually active morons.
i fear for the future.
are these young men and women also sheepish when they have to buy tampons? we have raised a generation of sexually active morons.
i fear for the future.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
3.09 pm
accomplished as of this moment:
1. labeled a stack of red files. (abandoned red files almost immediately.)
2. stuffed, licked and metered Madame's stack of corporate holiday cards.
3. ate one teeny bag of cheetos.
4. smoked one cigarette.
5. rearranged bra (wearing an ill-advised demi) 5 times.
6. visited the darkness' web site (was wondering what all the hullabaloo was all about and still don't get it.)
7. discussed with A-- which potato dish to serve with christmas dinner.
8. pondered briefly amy sullivan's article about abortion and the democrats before giving up and decided to be upset later.
9. distributed 3 personal holiday cards.
10. went to the ladies' restroom.
it feels like a much fuller day than this...
1. labeled a stack of red files. (abandoned red files almost immediately.)
2. stuffed, licked and metered Madame's stack of corporate holiday cards.
3. ate one teeny bag of cheetos.
4. smoked one cigarette.
5. rearranged bra (wearing an ill-advised demi) 5 times.
6. visited the darkness' web site (was wondering what all the hullabaloo was all about and still don't get it.)
7. discussed with A-- which potato dish to serve with christmas dinner.
8. pondered briefly amy sullivan's article about abortion and the democrats before giving up and decided to be upset later.
9. distributed 3 personal holiday cards.
10. went to the ladies' restroom.
it feels like a much fuller day than this...
Monday, December 20, 2004
pot, meet kettle
VOA News - Cuban Authorities Retaliate Against US Christmas Display
heh.
we can dish it out but then, when the democracy-stifling cubans call us on our own precarious moral position, we get our feelings hurt.
heh.
we can dish it out but then, when the democracy-stifling cubans call us on our own precarious moral position, we get our feelings hurt.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
crazy asian girls
i have several recommendations today, so bear with me.
1. do all your christmas shopping online. i was on the phone with my sister, listening to her whisper what she wanted for christmas and i deftly clicked over to jcrew and found exactly what she wanted. then i tapped over to rollingstone.com to read some reviews (i prefer spin's taste, actually) and decided what i was going to send my brother in law. my father is going to be the proud amazon recipient of either a book about female sexuality, gay people or barack obama's memoir. in any case, it should be educational. the little critters will get what i gives 'em. or what i can find in my bedroom and make like it's a funky bohemian thing.
2. do not go see that crazy korean thriller 'a tale of two sisters.' it's like 'the other', 'sisters' and 'the grudge' AND 'the 6th sense.' but on crack. BeanCurd (BC) and i sat scrunched down in our seats, begging the stepmother not to look under the sink. begging. covering our eyes (so he's not the manliest of men.) the film starts out simple enough - someone is crazy. then it spins into this crazy dinner party from hell and a morality tale on regret, the past, bad timing and why it's REALLY important to take your meds.
3. scrabble is a good way to round out an evening: date 3 ended after a two hour scrabble game and an hour watching late night tv. i totally got my ass kicked. however, i laid down 'roque' which was impressive. of course, he laid down 'prize' and won 78 points, but whatever.
1. do all your christmas shopping online. i was on the phone with my sister, listening to her whisper what she wanted for christmas and i deftly clicked over to jcrew and found exactly what she wanted. then i tapped over to rollingstone.com to read some reviews (i prefer spin's taste, actually) and decided what i was going to send my brother in law. my father is going to be the proud amazon recipient of either a book about female sexuality, gay people or barack obama's memoir. in any case, it should be educational. the little critters will get what i gives 'em. or what i can find in my bedroom and make like it's a funky bohemian thing.
2. do not go see that crazy korean thriller 'a tale of two sisters.' it's like 'the other', 'sisters' and 'the grudge' AND 'the 6th sense.' but on crack. BeanCurd (BC) and i sat scrunched down in our seats, begging the stepmother not to look under the sink. begging. covering our eyes (so he's not the manliest of men.) the film starts out simple enough - someone is crazy. then it spins into this crazy dinner party from hell and a morality tale on regret, the past, bad timing and why it's REALLY important to take your meds.
3. scrabble is a good way to round out an evening: date 3 ended after a two hour scrabble game and an hour watching late night tv. i totally got my ass kicked. however, i laid down 'roque' which was impressive. of course, he laid down 'prize' and won 78 points, but whatever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)