February 20, 2009
I’m running a contest over at the wedding blog and you all should enter.
No, seriously: Clinton Wants Obama to Offer More Hope
Yes, because what the Obama presidency is missing is empty sentiment.
A study of my people. With some pretty awesome pictures.
February 19, 2009
“I want to also, by the way, thank some of the Canadians who came over the border to campaign for me during the election,” Obama said. “It was much appreciated.”
I felt better yesterday than I do today. Will be back to blogging when my head is straight again.
UPDATE: How is “do you wear a seatbelt” a question on a doctor office form after “do you smoke cigarettes?” and “do you drink alcohol?”. What medical knowledge can be attained from my not wearing my seatbelt?
February 18, 2009
Despite having zero artistic skill, and despite the fact that I’m marrying someone with my same level of artistic ability, I decided to make wedding invitations that require design, construction and general craftiness to assemble.
It was late Monday night and IC and I were nearly done with our arts & crafts project. To celebrate, we popped open a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and lounged around congratulating ourselves.
I woke up early the next morning and the room was spinning.
Whoa, how much champagne did I drink? (Answer, by the way, is not much. Less than two glasses.)
But it wasn’t drunk spins, it wasn’t all slow motion-like. No, it was really fast spinning and it didn’t stop when I’d focus my eyes on something.
This, of course, made me want to puke.
IC was going away on an overnight business trip to North Carolina. And besides that, I found myself with a truly wide open Tuesday night. I didn’t have any events, no work, no nothing. So I made plans to get drinks with some writer friends I like but never get to see. Several had responded in the affirmative to my drinks invitation. Hurrah! I get to go out! Also, I made lunch plans. Lunch! I never have lunch!
Obviously, I’d pick this day to get deathly ill.
And deathly I was.
A few hours later and the ride still wouldn’t stop. I called my brother and he took me to the emergency room of our nearest hospital (”which hospital?” IC would demand to know later. “I don’t trust any hospital without a ‘Beth’ or ‘Israel’ in the name.”).
They took me pretty quickly; apparently dizziness, nausea and the feeling that you’re about to pass out gets you to the front of the ER list. They didn’t have a room for me, though, so I layed in a hallway willing myself not to throw up while my brother sat patiently beside me.
They gave me some medicine to control the nausea and dizziness. I threw it all up.
Then the nurse came to give me an IV. She got blood all over my arm but I was too doped up to notice. Later on, when I did notice, I mentioned it to my brother and he said “I didn’t want to say anything but she seemed like a straight rookie.”
High as a kite but still nauseas as all hell, I’d lay very still and exchange giggles with my brother about what we’d overhear in nearby rooms.
“How long have you been smoking, Mr. Jones?”
“Cigarettes or crack?”
“11 years. But I was clean for 5 weeks! Until yesterday…”
There was a loud, angry lady and her sheepish embarrassed son.
“What kind of hospital is dis? Where da nurses? Where da doctors?” she’d scream. Then she threatened to “drop” one of the nurses and he said he was calling the cops and that shut her up.
There were cops in the hallway, actually, apparently they had brought in a cuffed guy for treatment. My brother reported he looked like a half-dead dope head. And then this happened:
I hear a woman say “where’s my jacket? Who took my jacket?”
“Security! Security! Someone took my jacket!!”
My brother peeked his head out to investigate, turned back to me and said:
“It’s a cop! Someone took a cop’s jacket!”
The cop was freaking out. Her badge and cell phone were in the jacket. My brother helpfully suggested they check the videotape of the camera pointed straight at the missing jacket area. They ignored him. The cop was screaming and shouting and calling her cell phone. I found this hilarious, especially my brother repeating “no, really, why wouldn’t they check the tape? What’s the point of all these video cameras if no one ever uses them?”, and couldn’t stop laughing.
Finally, they decided to check the tape. Before they even got to it, though, they found the perp. It was a little, round, and definitely insane Spanish lady who had picked up the wrong jacket (and left hers) and was strolling around the hospital wearing the cop’s jacket.
The male cops who had been looking for the missing jacket told security to bring the woman over. They did and the woman burst into tears. The cops, who were bringing her over to get some answers broke down: “It’s ok, mami, it happens, everything is ok.” Awesome. Steal a cop’s jacket and tears should get you off.
Finally, the doctor came with his diagnosis: Vertigo! Who knew that was a real condition?! I had seen that episode of Arrested Development where Liza Minnelli’s character had vertigo but it seemed not so bad at all. My vertigo was hell. Wouldn’t wish it on anybody. Not even Dawn. So you know it’s bad.
A new nurse came by at some point and while changing my IV bag asked if I was under stress, as vertigo is a symptom of that. I said no. My brother immediately spoke up “yes, she’s stressed! She’s planning a wedding! She’s stressed every day!”
He’s probably right but the truth is I don’t feel stressed. Sure, there’s lots to think about but at the end of the day I’ll be marrying my amazing IC in a paradise setting in front of our closest friends and family. What’s to stress about? I’m one of those people that always looks at the bright side. I have a roof over my head, food to eat and I live in the free-est country in the history of the world (even if we have decided socializing our banking system is the answer). My head says what’s to stress about? But apparently, my body disagrees.
February 17, 2009
Evangelicals were basically used by the Bush administration as a political voting block rather than any sort of instrument of change. They just wanted the votes. The cause was secondary. Same with McCain. With President Obama, while his views differ from conservative Evangelicals (which is a problem) he’s at least serious about having a faith based discussion.
I don’t know that I agree that Bush “used” evangelicals, after all it’s hard to deny that Bush is an evangelical, but there’s no doubt that Obama’s appeal to faith-based voters sealed the deal in the last election. So while so many Republicans are thinking they need to be more like Democrats to win in the future, they should look to the voters they’ve always had but are now losing–the faith-based voters who didn’t hear a thing from McCain about how he was like them. Remember, the Democrat has to move to the right to win in the general election, and Obama did this aplenty. Republicans just have to stay to the right to win. And we all know McCain did not do that.
February 16, 2009
“Change Clothes” by Jay-Z and Pharrell.
“There’s a lot to be said for Islamic law – sharia – and just saying “I divorce thee” three times; it would certainly have saved me many thousands of pounds.”
I guess no one told ole Janet that the woman in the relationship never gets to say “I divorce thee”, only the man can, because she’s mostly his property. A little summary of Janet’s rights under Sharia:
Here are just some of the “benefits” British Muslim women can look forward to if Sharia law replaces English law: The Muslim woman cannot marry without parental approval, worsening the problem of forced marriage; marriages can be conducted without the presence of a bride, as long as the guardian consents, creating a climate for underage and early marriage; Muslim women may only marry Muslim men.
It gets worse. A Muslim man can divorce his wife by repudiating her; they have no obligation to support a former wife, or her children after the divorce; women are prohibited from divorcing husbands without his consent; abuse is not grounds for a woman to end a marriage; in matters of inheritance, sons are entitled to twice as much of an estate as daughters.
Divorced women must remain single. If they remarry they can lose custody of their children. There is no similar requirement for a man. Child custody often reverts to the father at a preset age, even if the father has been abusive.
Sounds awesome, no? Hey, it could’ve saved her a coupla thousand pounds! Of course, she doesn’t actually have any thousands of pounds, all her property belongs to her husband. Stupid.
February 14, 2009
Or as the Beatles said, it’s getting better all the time.
February 13, 2009
Plane crashes in Buffalo. Horrible:
Among the crash victims was Beverly Eckert, the widow of Sean Rooney, who was killed in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. Eckert was traveling to Buffalo for a family celebration of what would have been her husband’s 58th birthday.
It was then I realized I had broken one of the unspoken rules of etiquette prevailing in my corner of Northern California: I’d invited conservatives and liberals to dine together.
Oh. My. G-d. Everyone in any social situation must agree on everything, everyone knows that! Otherwise what’s the point of dining together? I love this line:
This time I’d somehow managed to invite known Republicans, including a vociferous Sarah Palin supporter, to mingle with liberals who live in notoriously left-leaning Berkeley.
Known Republicans. It has the same ring to it as known Nazi sympathizers.
Although, the other side do sound like a bunch of known Commies:
I could envision a clash of epic proportions between the government-out-of-my-life contingent and the Berkeley residents, who think it’s perfectly normal to phone a “Spare the Air” pollution hot line for permission to burn a log in their fireplace. (“What if you didn’t ask?” I asked the last time I was in Berkeley — on a chilly night, by the way — and my friend replied matter of factly, “The neighbors would turn us in.”)
The neighbors would turn them in! “The people next door are burning a log. I believe they are enemies of the state.”
Oh but don’t worry, her dinner party went ok. Turns out we’re all united in our belief that things are crap and are going to be crap for awhile:
The Republican concurred. Unequivocally. Cheerfully, they agreed we’re all headed for hell in a handbasket.
And the night ended well:
Before I knew it, my husband started looking pointedly at his watch and yawning (midnight is his limit) and I realized the evening had been a success. As he shooed all the EEs out the door, I saw a Republican hug a Democrat. “I really enjoyed meeting you,” she said.
Turns out, adults can sometimes be civil to people who have different opinions than them. Amazing, I know.
February 12, 2009
Yes, I’ve somehow found myself engrossed in the NY Times Style section today.