Monday, November 30, 2009
Placeholder and A Bit of Materialistic Glee
I could talk about a lot of things right now. I could talk about what I'm thankful for, this being the season and all. I could talk about how daily blogging has helped me this month, and about why I finally took a weekend off this past weekend. I could talk about the political discussions I had with Steve over the holidays, or the political discussions I'm trying to figure out how to have with my co-workers. But right now I'm so tired I could cry, so I'm going to bed instead. I will say this, though:
I FINALLY GOT MYSELF A LAPTOP AND IT'LL BE HERE TOMORROW!
*dance!*
Oh, and Scott Adams, I hope you had a great Thanksgiving.
Friday, November 27, 2009
An Update Limerick
Scott Adams Scott Adams Scott Adams,
Scott Adams (Scott Adams) Scott Adams!
Scott Adams Scott Adams
Scott Adams Scott Adams;
Scott Adams Scott Adams Scott Adams.
Still no time for updates of substance; until regular schedules resume, you get this. Lucky you!
Thursday, November 26, 2009
I HAVE EATEN SO MUCH TODAY
I wish to say that I am thankful for all of you who read my blog, and even for all of you who don't. I hope you all have a wonderful day, and that you all can think of things to be thankful for.
Now I will go digest things for 20 hours. I may not move before then.
P.S. I'm also thankful for Scott Adams.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
WTF Wednesday 4: In Which I Am the Subject
Today's WTF Wednesday rant was originally going to be about the Catholic bishops threatening to withdraw licensed social service programs from Washington DC if a proposed gay rights law passes. Tomorrow, or possibly Friday, I will revisit this topic, probably loudly and with vigor. Tonight, though, I'm driving to my mother's for the holiday, so I haven't got time to give injustice the justice it deserves.
Besides, it has come to my attention that I have committed the unthinkable faux pas of admitting I have no damn idea who Lady Gaga is.
A student of mine made a reference to her looks, to which I answered that I've never heard her and I don't know what she looks like. The student looked at me with the goggle-eyed horror I usually associate with Charlton Heston's discovery that the Planet of the Apes is actually Earth. "You don't know who Lady Gaga is?" she yelped. "How can you possibly not know who Lady Gaga is?" I told her that I didn't have television or own a computer, and that I mostly listened to NPR. "You mean you don't have cable, right?" she asked. I assured her that no, I had no access to television broadcasts of any kind.
By now the conversation had attracted gapers. "Have you ever been in a store? Ever? In your life?" asked another student. I replied that of course I'd been in a store, but I didn't have the money to shop for fun. "So do you just go home and go right to sleep?" he said in disbelief. "What do you even do?"
"I read," I replied. At that point, they all went back to their classwork, assuming I was just messing with them.
I don't know whose WTF was bigger.
Labels: WTF Wednesday
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Trip Report Tuesday #3-- Almost!
As Trip Report Tuesday falls upon us again, I have a still-clean apartment and half of a sock to go. I don't feel bad about this because I knit valiantly all week and I'm making progress. The sock project continues on to next week, which should be easier because of Thanksgiving break.
This week's projects are as follows:
1) Purchase a Christmas present for Andy's brother-in-law, whose name I drew in our gift exchange. This is kind of tricky because I know very little about him, but we'll see how I do.
2) FINISH THE RASPUTIN SOCK.
3) Come up with wittier ways to link to Scott Adams.
Aaand I'm not going to be much more ambitious than that, at the moment. Anybody out there have a finished project? Anybody out there want one? You know what to do!
Monday, November 23, 2009
Musical Episode! or: On The First Day of Blogmas, Figure Five Gave to Meeee....
...A blogger who's short and angryyyyy!
On the Second Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Third Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyyy!
On the Fourth Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Fifth Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
The Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Sixth Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Six rants on social justice,
And the Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Seventh Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Seven crazy projects
Six rants on social justice,
And the Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Eighth Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Eight steps to adulthood
Seven crazy projects
Six rants on social justice,
And the Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Ninth Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Nine girls named Barbara
Eight steps to adulthood
Seven crazy projects
Six rants on social justice,
And the Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Tenth Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Ten mentions of Scott Adams*
Nine girls named Barbara
Eight steps to adulthood
Seven crazy projects
Six rants on social justice,
And the Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Eleventh Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to me--
Eleven folks who comment**
Ten mentions of Scott Adams*
Nine girls named Barbara
Eight steps to adulthood
Seven crazy projects
Six rants on social justice,
And the Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
On the Twelfth Day of Blogmas,
Figure Five gave to meeeeee--
Twelve more months of madness
Eleven folks who comment
Ten mentions of Scott Adams*
Nine girls named Barbara
Eight steps to adulthood
Seven crazy projects
Six rants on social justice,
And the Silent Top Five Thiiiiiiiings!
Four Ducks of War,
Three weeks of posts,
Two weekly features
And a blogger who's short and angryyyyyy!
*Including this one.
** At latest count.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Happy Holidays!
Today is International* School Uniform Appreciation Day. Happy Holidays, all!
*And by "international" I mean "made up by me."
Let me say that I love the holidays. I do appreciate the light dusting of peace and goodwill that, like snow, covers most towns, even though they both melt away pretty easily. I like singing Christmas carols. I enjoy the smell of pine. I'm always delighted with the tradition of covering one's house with shiny, twinkly, blinky things. (I cannot drive during the holiday season because I spend too much time staring at the pretty lights.) Most of all, I enjoy my family's thoroughly dysfunctional holiday traditions. A few examples: There was "Pirate Christmas," where we all dressed up in costumes for dinner. At every holiday we have a postprandial drunken Apples to Apples game, which lasts until someone wins, we get tired of shouting at each other, or we run out of wine. And who can forget the year when, in lieu of a tree, we wrapped Christmas lights around my father's IV pole and stuck an angel on top? (That was not the first or the last time my younger sister accused us all of ruining Christmas, but it was certainly the funniest.)
By and large, though, our winter holidays have become expensive, stressful purchasing competitions, more about showing off how much you made that year and trying to spend a week with your extended family without killing them. This is why most of my favorite holidays are made up. Like International School Uniform Appreciation Day, which I celebrated by wearing white stockings and a plaid skirt. Mad genius Jenna Borgstrom has already declared January 15th Writing Real Person Slash About the Pope Day, a holiday I plan to celebrate to the mind-searing best of my ability. I will then share the fruits of my excruciating labors with you, because we always hurt the ones we love. And I love you, illusory internet friends. I love you hard.
Your turn, Figure Five Home Gamers! Let's make up some new holidays and see if we can get them to catch on! (Like Festivus, except with less Seinfeld.) How about Scott Adams Day, where we all wear curly ties and spend the day saying withering things about management?
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Saturday is Existential Dilemma Day
It seems like all the weighty posts seem to come to me on days when I'm on timed sessions in the library. What I want to write about now is Christianity and its political connotations. I was raised Episcopalian, but I have drifted fairly far from my conservative religious upbringing. (Well, "fairly far" in the sense that Africa has drifted "fairly far" from South America.) Thus, I hadn't heard about the formal separation of the conservative Anglican Church of North America from the denomination, even though the process had been going on for a year and the new group's canons were officially ratified in July.
The split is the result of controversy in the Episcopal Church (the American branch of the Church of England) over issues such as the ordination of women and gay men as bishops and the flexibility of scriptural interpretation. Its constitution states that its members are “grieved by the current state of brokenness within the Anglican Communion (Anglicans’ worldwide church) prompted by those who have embraced erroneous teaching and who have rejected a repeated call to repentance.” (from the ACNA website.) It is expected to prohibit women and gay men from becoming bishops-- they are apparently acceptable as priests, but not as leaders in the wider communion.
Now, one of the reasons I hung on to Episcopal practice for so long (besides the gorgeous service music) is precisely its openness to women and homosexuals in its worship and its leadership. This split underscores the issue which, I am coming to realize, has almost completely driven me out of the Christian faith: In today's society, Christianity connotes foremost not a spiritual but a political mindset, and that mindset is one with which I cannot agree. Yes, I'm talking about the "Christian Right" and its radical fundamentalist agenda, but I'm also talking about the social expectations that accompany church membership. Even in my fairly liberal church, stratification by social class and political affiliation create a culture that is wildly out of line with the loving, inclusive message Jesus Christ is supposed to have died to bring us.
Most of the people I see wearing WWJD bracelets are likely to be doing the opposite of what Jesus would do. Would Jesus picket an abortion clinic and scream accusations at the women who enter? Would Jesus send a letter to my mother expressing his disapproval of my gay sister's participation in their events? Would Jesus campaign to deny two people who have been loving partners their whole lives the right to visit each other in intensive care? Would he require parents to face prison time for failing to turn their gay children over to the authorities for life imprisonment or death? (This is a provision in the Anti-Homosexuality bill introduced in Uganda in 2009, a bill championed by evangelical Christian groups.) Would Jesus focus so much on church initiatives and social events that the spiritual needs of a congregation fall by the wayside? I think not. If this is, in fact, what Jesus would do, then I don't want any part of it.
This is what I believe: I believe that all people deserve love and respect, and that the responsibility to treat others the same way is a joy, not a burden. I believe that which symbol you respect or which holy dead guy you believe in is completely immaterial-- what's important is the way you live your life, and whatever you think of the afterlife is no justification for treating people poorly now. I believe that forests, ancient ruins, institutions of learning, or small circles of people listening to each other are more sacred than megachurches with their own gift shops and fast food courts. I believe in wonder, in amazement and reverence for the extravagant abundance and mysteries of the universe, and I believe we each are bound to protect it in all its forms.
And yet, I still believe in really good service music. I guess that makes me... what? Episco-pagan? It may not look snappy on a bracelet, but it works for me.
I believe that Scott Adams is an atheist. That's fine, too.
It's Friday Somewhere
Yesterday, as I'm sure you who are hanging on my every word have noticed, I missed my post. By the time I get off work on Friday, the library is closed, so if Andy's not home, I have no opportunity to write. A lamentable state of affairs, you say! We missed you so! Yes, I know, I know. So here is my report for Friday:
Same old same old.
Well, not quite. I did finish one sock of my promised pair and cast on for the next one, so I may actually finish that project late on time. I also very nearly went out to a bar with a coworker, but in the end social anxiety won out and I went home to read feminist literature and feed my cats. One day, says I, one day I will make friends. Probably just in time for me to move away from them.
This is exactly why Scott Adams, cartoonist, should take me up on my offer. I need to meet more people.
(I've added "cartoonist" because the ever-thoughtful Steve raised a good point-- Scott Adams is a fairly common name.When I Googled "Scott Adams," most of the results were for the cartoonist, but Scott Adams the game designer, Scott Adams the attorney, and Peggy Scott Adams the gospel singer also made an appearance. Any of these people are also welcome to duel me if they so choose, just in case.)
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Q: Where Do You Get Your Ideas?
A: I don't know, but wherever it is, everybody is on vacation.
I'm tired and frustrated today-- Thursdays are my longest days, with both jobs and then choir keeping me out of the house from 8 AM to 10 PM-- and I'm drawing a blank on witty things to say. Instead, I'll post something from my huge file of incomplete story ideas. Some of the ideas are full pages, some are outlines, some are just one or two quotes I know I want in something someday. If you have similar things, feel free to post them as well. If you have ideas for where mine ought to go, same deal. Right now, I got nothin'.
"My brothers and sisters have perfectly ordinary names—John and David, the eldest, and then Sarah and Maria and Thomas—but my mother, when I was born, would not hear of any other name for me than Barbara. My father was somewhat taken aback—I was the first girl, and he had wanted to name me Alice, after a recently late aunt. He spent a week attempting to wheedle my mother into a more suitable choice, but she would have her way, so Barbara I stayed.
I suppose it’s a fairly common name now, but when I was born children were not named Barbara, as a rule. To my mother it must have been exotic, the syllables remnant of the coarse speech of avenging queens. I hated it growing up, hated it even more when it came back into vogue a generation later when I was naming my own children. My girls brought home a half-dozen little Barbaras as playmates; I cringed every time a new one was introduced. Barbara. What a barbarous thing to name a child."
EDIT: You know, I almost forgot: Scott Adams. What a barbarous thing to name a child.
Labels: "
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
WTF Wednesday 3: A Heartwarming Rant, for once?
I spent most of today, as befits a WTF Wednesday, discussing politics, rhetoric, and social issues. (As you can see by this week's Silent Top Five, I have had lots of these on my mind lately.) I had a very amiable discussion about labor practices and the pros and cons of unionization with my supervisor, which was the most refreshing of these. The most exhausting was probably the shouting match with the first mate about politically charged terms and the way they polarize issues. (He and I even fight like nerds-- we have civil, caring, and productive discussions about our actual problems, but we can work ourselves into argumentative fits over things like political issues or whether Transformers has any merit beyond product placement.)
The upshot of all this is that I don't have the energy to rage at the world this Wednesday. Instead, I'm going to talk about the finest citizen our country has to offer. And he's only ten years old.
Will Phillips may be a fifth grader, but he knows when shit be freaky. He's refusing to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance, on the grounds that a nation where gays cannot marry cannot be said to provide liberty and justice for all. He's doing it respectfully and unrelentingly, and most impressively for a ten-year-old, he's standing up to incredible pressure from his peers. By fifth grade logic, only a total gaywad stands up for gay rights. (If only people actually outgrew fifth grade logic after fifth grade!) Yet, in the face of teasing, bullying, and the disapproval of authority, he stands up for what he has decided, independently, is right. When asked what it means to be an American, he says “The freedom to disagree. That's what I think pretty much being an American represents.”
This is the legacy we were meant to take from generations of civil disobedience, protest, and organization-- a country where even a ten-year-old knows better than to be silent in the face of injustice. Will Phillips, I support you with all my heart, and I hope that my children are just like you.
P.S. First Mate Andy is going out of town for a conference, so I will be out my computer access until Sunday. As such, Thursday's entry may be brief and Friday's entry will likely either be a sentence long or not happen at all. If that's the case, I'll post two on Saturday, because I love you anonymous internet people.
P.P.S. Scott Adams, what do you want for Christmas?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Trip Report Tuesday #2- EPIC FAIL
My project for today was to finish my pair of socks. Simple ankle socks, I figured, one of which was just about done, were a challenge, but a doable one. How did I do?
Monday, November 16, 2009
In Which I Do, In Fact, Challenge A Celebrity To A Duel
So, I have this tendency to undertake crackpot projects. This is another one of those. But hilarity will, I'm sure, ensue!
This one was sparked as I wondered whether celebrities Google themselves. My sister assures me that they do. She knows this because apparently last summer she was a camp counselor for the daughter of a prominent musician, and said daughter confirmed it. This means that, through my sister, I am now fewer than six degrees from Kevin Bacon. It also means that, through our mutual insecurity and dependence on technology, we are now closer to our appointed luminaries than we have ever been. Interactive experiences are now possible with the rarefied world we usually just watch. More to the point, I can now mess with celebrities' heads too.
My idea is this. If I called out someone famous on my blog, how likely is it that a random Google search would turn up my blog and they would take me up on my challenge? I don't know, but I'm going to find out.
Now, in order for this to work, I have to pick my celebrity carefully. My criteria are as follows:
- It has to be someone only moderately famous. People like Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt know exactly what people think of them. It's in just about every magazine you see at just about every grocery store. I'm sure they employ people to Google their names for them so they can concentrate on adopting African children and allegedly fighting with each other.
- Public opinion must still be vital to them on a smaller scale. There are plenty of people who are famous enough that everybody could suddenly decide to hate them and it still wouldn't make too much of a dent in their lifestyle. They don't need to work, and they get almost as much publicity mileage out of being a has-been as they do out of being a star (cf. Britney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, everyone who was ever in a boy band.)
- My target needs to be someone who's likely to have a devoted Internet following, so that random blogs would more accurately represent their target demographic than, say, Us Weekly. (Which should more honestly be named People Who Are Nothing Like Us Weekly.) They also need to have enough of a technological bent themselves to be likely to self-Google and blog-surf for fun.
- They must possess a sense of humor to which dueling an anonymous twentysomething in the Midwest would be amusing. Or at least the sort of thing that could be milked for witty commentary.
I choose Scott Adams, cartoonist and author to the wonky-tied, cynical, weaselly common man. I choose him for all the above reasons and because I'm reading one of his books at the moment. Also, he has my dream job-- to have people pay you gobs of money for the privilege of listening to all the clever shit you say. From what I can tell, he's pretty responsive to reader e-mail and blog comments, so this sort of thing may not be entirely outside his sphere. Also, the six degrees of nerd separation virtually guarantees that someone I know will know someone who knows someone who used to fix his air conditioner. Or maybe Kevin Bacon's air conditioner. That's close enough.
The challenge is the simple, time-honored one of old: Nerf guns at dawn. At fifty paces I will turn and fire to defend my honor, almost as though I still had any. The loser will thus be shamed and probably have to buy a round of beer or something. (This was going to be the first in a veritable dorkathalon of events, but I didn't want to scare him off. Also, I mostly just liked the idea because I got to use the word "dorkathalon.") So, Scott Adams, the gauntlet has been thrown! Until you respond or I forget to do it, I will make the odds of you finding my blog more likely by including asides to you in each entry.
And there we have it. Check out the new Word of the Day, and goodnight, Scott Adams, wherever you are.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
This is the first access I've had to a computer all day...
... so instead of my usual scintillating commentary, you get a quick rundown of what's in my head.
Which, right now, is this: I just watched Julie Taymor's adaptation of Titus Andronicus, which is like glorious visual porn for literature nerds and sadomasochists. Titus Andronicus, if you haven't heard of it, is what the Reduced Shakespeare Company called "Shakespeare's Tarantino phase." And, for some reason, this is what it set running in my head:
My milkshake brings all the goths to the yardThese are the things that kept me out of Harvard.
And they're like, it's darker than yours
Damn right, it's darker than yours
I could teach you, but you just wouldn't understand...
TOMORROW! Fabulous things are coming to this little blog. Stay tuned as I challenge a celebrity to a duel!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Ten-Minute Post
My library time is short today because I've got to make it to a Deep Listening workshop with composer Pauline Oliveros. The choir I'm in is performing one of her pieces this December, a very nontraditional work called "Wind Horse" and written as a mandala. Yes, really. It's pretty challenging to go from Beethoven's Ninth to telling stories and making sounds as internal metaphors for the wind, because I have no idea what to do if there aren't notes on the page. But hey, neat, right?
In other "Susan Is Boring" news this weekend, I babysat for a nine-month old boy last night. We played for a while before I put him to bed, and I discovered that (shocker!) infants are even more satisfying to talk to than cats. They still don't mind if you monopolize the conversation, and they may even respond to you in ways you can follow. Also, this kid is going to be a great percussionist when he grows up. He was banging away on those empty formula cans like there was no tomorrow. For a while I beatboxed for him and he danced and laughed. It was pretty rockin' awesome.
Speaking of things that are pretty rockin' awesome, check out the heavy metal monk. Although he's recently retired because, as he says, "Satan made me too famous for my own good," Cesare Bonizzi was in an honest-to-God heavy metal band called Fratello Metallo. He is also an honest-to-God Capuchin monk (as opposed to an honest-to-God capuchin monkey.) Way to go, Fra Cesare.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Won't You Zhoin Me In My Irrrrritating Leetle Zong?
I am sad to say I have a mind like a steel beartrap. That is to say, it usually holds on to the big thigns, the ones that will rampage through your cabin and kill you if you don't get them under control. The smaller things, though, either slip through or go around it entirely. Hence why I always pay my bills on time, but I can lose paperwork without even touching it. Or go for weeks without realizing my oil light is on. Or forget to return phone calls, get time cards signed, do dishes, or lock doors.
This problem is compounded by the fact that I am a terrible listener not an auditory learner. Yeah, let's go with that. Part of it is really that I don't hear so well, but mostly I just don't retain things that people say. I have no idea why this is. It's not that I don't want to listen and remember. I do. When people start talking, part of my brain is extremely attentive, but the part that makes short-term memory is probably off playing with itself in a corner. Someone will be giving directions and I'll nod and repeat them-- and they will glance off my mind like a ping-pong ball off a plate-glass window and be gone. I've spent the whole morning trying to remember if my first mate asked me to do the dishes this week. He probably did. Probably twice. But since I didn't get it in writing, I can't recall a single time.
As you can imagine, this occasionally leads to a perfect storm of unintentional thoughtlessness, which is one of my least favorite things (right after "perfect storm of badger feces," in fact.) I've tried system after system to keep myself on track, but all the planners and lists and routines only work for a week or so before I just forget to do them. (Apparently all the detail-tracking mechanisms themselves count as details.) I'm trying a new method, though, for which I have high hopes, and which leads me to the subject of this post.
I'm great at remembering song lyrics, so I've started setting my to-do lists to music. I use popular classical pieces mostly, so I can't possibly forget them, and I write the lyrics down (to give me the all-important visual cue.) I'll sing them to myself in the mornings as I get ready for work, and they'll stick in my head all day. Today's little song goes like this:
(to the tune of Kill the Wabbit)
Call the laaand-lord
Ca-all the laaaaaaaaand-lord
Ca-all the LAAAAAAND-lord
Vaccuum the staaaairs!
The one from October 30th is as follows (students' names have been changed):
(sung to Ode to Joy)
Good morning, Susan! Please remember
Karen's birthday PBJ
Bring Delilah's German tapes
And don't forget it's Robot Day.
Call Maureen and check your e-mail
Look up Sascha's new address
Hit the library on your lunch break
Thanks so much! That's all, I guess.
The point of telling all of you this is partly to apologize for being so flaky and partly to explain why I may be singing to myself. But mostly it's to say the following: Please submit all requests in writing. Thank you, the Management.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
All I Want for Christmas Is... A Two-Inch Doctor?
Around this time of year, my first mate starts asking me for my Christmas list to pass on to his mom. This makes me a little bit uncomfortable-- Christmas presents are a big deal in his family in a way they never were in mine, so I'm always caught off guard to be getting gifts in the first place. One of the things I love about first mate & co. is that they are about the most inclusive people I've ever known. If you've spent much time with them, you're family, and not only that, your family is family. My mother and siblings are always invited to their big holiday meals, and have been even before Andy and I were serious about each other. When I was growing up, my family was just the opposite-- to the family patriarchs, even being a blood relative wasn't necessarily enough to get you accepted into the tribe. I can probably count on the fingers of both hands the number of times my parents invited multiple non-relatives to dinner. It's a bit of an adjustment to make, but it's a positive one.
My other problem with Christmas lists is that I don't really care about getting stuff, nor do I like asking for specific things as gifts. I prefer to leave it up to the giver, presuming that they know me well enough to know the types of things that I like. That way, I know people aren't just getting me a gift because they think they're supposed to. I do, however, have a Christmas list of completely unreasonable things. Things that may not even exist, let alone be possible to obtain. I don't feel bad at all about passing that one around. So here it is.
- A pocket-sized David Tennant who will sit on my shoulder and say "WHAT??" in his adorably confused way whenever something unexpected happens to me.
- A taxidermied squirrel adorably posed in a tableau of my choice. This, like most other wonderfully appalling things, can be purchased on the internet. From a guy who claims he "can mount any squirrel in any position or style you would like." (How about reverse cowgirl? Zing!)
- Moron-canceling headphones. Wouldn't it be great if you could get a pair that only blocked the frequency of people you found particularly annoying? As a high school employee, I would use those things all the friggin time.
- Any merchandise from the SPAM museum, World's Largest Ball of Twine, Wall Drug, or the Santa Cruz Mystery Spot. Or, barring that, my very own crappy roadside fiberglass dinosaur. A giant Abe Lincoln would also be acceptable.
- Accordion lessons.
Now, isn't that more interesting to hear about than stuff I might actually hope to receive? And doesn't it give you some idea of the sort of thing I might like for Christmas?
I rest my case.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
WTF Wednesday 2: Ten-Second Irritations
First of all, check out the new Silent Top Five in the sidebar-- Geeky Lingerie That I Am Not Making Up. I've provided links to prove this point. You can actually purchase all of this stuff on the interwebs. (And, like all internet merchandise, I presume it will arrive neatly packaged and shot out of your end of the series of tubes.) Whether you would want to is something else again.
...Oh, who am I kidding. I'm a flaming nerd. I'd wear all of this stuff. (Except maybe the GPS undies, because I'm not sure my tinfoil hat would do an adequate job of blocking the signal from the gub'mint.)
Anyway, on to your regularly scheduled programming. I kind of blew my WTF Wednesday wad with my two-part rant on the health care legislation, so today is devoted to fleeting annoyance rather than righteous rage. A-like so:
- People who use the phrase IMHO (in my humble opinion) on internet debates? You are not all that humble.
- Stop running contradictory health stories already, newspeople. Eggs are good for you but bad for you, red wine is healthy and unhealthy, and now exercise is going to either save or ruin your body. Since all of these stories just boil down to "do what common sense suggests without going overboard," running all of them only encourages people like me who are easily frustrated with unclear directions to give the whole thing up as a bad job and spend the evening eating unbaked cookie dough with a spoon.
- On a related note, if the raw cookie dough has been pasteurized, don't even bother putting "BAKE BEFORE CONSUMING" in big letters on the packaging. You're only kidding yourself.
- Critics are complaining that selling better test scores as a fundraiser might "send the wrong message." I both agree and disagree with them. I agree because, obviously, being able to buy your way into grades you don't deserve further trivializes the value of education and gives students from well-off families yet another advantage over their less affluent classmates. (Because, you know, the rest of our educational system does not do that quite shamelessly enough.) Unfortunately, in the real world, you usually can buy your way into things you don't deserve, so the message, though spurious, is pretty accurate.
- I went to check foxnews.com, so as to be bipartisan in my annoying news coverage. I found, to my irritation, that... well, there were plenty of things that I found, to my irritation, and any of them could become its own WTF Wednesday. So let's just say that FOX News still exists and that's annoying.
- Nobody has yet invented a little transmitter which will allow you to understand what your cat wants when it stands on your knee and meows pitifully at you even when its food dish is full and refuses to be petted.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Trip Report Tuesday #1- Double Success Happy Time!
If you'll recall, my two projects for this week were to audition for solos-- despite having barely learned one of the three-- and to finish and scan my Ducks of War series. I am pleased to report that both of these things have happened. Not only have they happened, they have happened favorably. Observe!
I had three excerpts to perform at my solo audition, two of which I had already memorized and sung a million times. The third one was a complicated Renaissance duet part that I had maybe looked at once by the week of my audition. I almost decided not to bother with it at all, but then figured that wouldn't be in the spirit of the challenge. I sat down with my little audio file and whipped it into shape the day before my audition, then went in figuring that at least the other two were in good shape. I made one obvious mistake during my whole audition-- in that excerpt. Meh, I figured. I wasn't really going for that one anyway.
Of course, guess which solo I got? Yeah. I have no excuse not to try anything anymore. The part is beautiful, and of course I'll have a month to get it right. Those of you who'd like to come hear the concert should let me know, and I'll get y'all details.
*squee!*
As for finishing Ducks of War,
(Click for big.)
Next week's project-- I have one of a pair of cute little ankle socks knitted. This week I will finally knit that other sock.
Anyone else have a trip report? Leave it in the comments! (Sock puppet relationship discussions, I'm lookin' at you.) Anyone else want a project? Get in touch with me, either here or elsewhere, and I'll give you your very own blogpost all to yourself. Otherwise, this week's generic project is: tell someone, somewhere, exactly how you feel about them.
Monday, November 09, 2009
"Real Adulthood," whatever that is.
When I enumerate my daily accomplishments, I often catch myself saying something like "I (took out the trash/paid my bills/had dinner with a couple of friends/removed my own appendix) just like a real adult!" People who hear this usually respond in one of two ways: a) shake their head and say that I am a real adult, or b) pat me on the head and remind me that I will never be a real adult. I will leave it up to your mercies to decide which is truer.
The thing is, what is "real adulthood?" Before I was supposed to be a real adult, I thought of adulthood as something that would inevitably happen when I reached the age of majority, i.e. the condition in which one finds oneself when one is no longer a real child. Then once I turned 18, I assumed real adulthood would land upon me when I left college and went out into the "real world." (At least I realized even then that college was an idyllic fantasyland that bore little resemblance to the way my life would actually go.) Now, two and a half years out of college and eyeball deep in the real world, I still don't feel like a real adult.
I read in a book on parenting (don't ask why I read books on parenting; no, Mom, I'm not pregnant) that people in this country consider the age of real adulthood to be twenty-six. This makes me feel a little better in that I've got another year and a bit to go, so there's still time to figure how to make it work properly. That just leaves the question: If I don't feel like a real adult now even when I'm living on my own and making my own money, what has to happen before I do? And can I make all that happen by age twenty-six?
Here are some things I consider to be milestones that point to real adulthood:
- Relative financial independence. This comes to mind because I've just spent two hours on hold waiting to take over my mother's iPass account, the last apron string but one. (I am still on the cell phone plan shared by the whole family, but I pay for my line and my usage, so I feel okay about that one.)
- Planning and executing your own vacation. Technically, I've done this. I've even done it in a foreign language. This was, however, during my semester abroad, which was entirely sponsored by the generosity of various extended family, so I don't feel it counts. I will need to decide to take a vacation, fit it into my work schedule, save up for it, book it, and return from it alive in order to earn the real adult merit badge.
- Having dental insurance. Now, I've got medical, thanks to the bizarre happenstance of being a government employee (seriously, that's really weird to think about.) I did not opt into the dental plan when I was hired, because I was medium-impoverished at the time. I think there should be a dental merit badge too, because nothing says "adult" like actually remembering to floss.
- Knowing things about wine. Classy things, like how to identify a "floral nose" or "undertones of chocolate, peat moss, and dismembered vintner's apprentice."
- Hosting at least one dinner party to which you invite more than two people you're neither related to nor dating. I have not done this, because I consider "dinner party" to be more elaborate than "Jessa coming over and the two of us raiding the fridge." Also, I know very few people who do not fall into one of those two categories.
- Being able to make small talk about the stock market without sounding imbecilic. My first mate is a financial adviser. He's made valiant attempts to explain several economic theories to me, and he's had his best success with a metaphor involving squirrel trafficking. I feel I may need a more sophisticated understanding before I bring the discussion out in public.
- Becoming more centered and spiritually fulfilled. Or at least coming to a better understanding than "Uh, I kind of believe in the Force, I guess? Also, don't be a dick."
- Owning a black cocktail dress. Which you actually wear out for cocktails. Someplace where the football game is not on a gigantic screen on the wall and where most of the people are not undergraduates. Speaks for itself
P.S. Check out the Word of the Week to your right. See if you can use it at least once this week!
Sunday, November 08, 2009
The Stupak-Pitts Amendment, Part II, or "...and by tonight, I mean tomorrow."
Too much abortion for just one post, obviously, so I'm breaking it up into two. To carry on where I left off, legally the decision to abort a child must be the prerogative of a woman and her doctor. The Stupak-Pitts amendment not only bans abortion coverage in the public option, but also bars women from using their own money to purchase abortion coverage. Language in the bill already provided that public contributions to private plans be segregated so as not to fund the abortion coverage. This was not enough, apparently, for proponents of the Stupak-Pitts bill. Under its restrictions, any plan purchased through the exchange would be forbidden to include abortion coverage, even when its premiums are entirely privately paid. This could cause people who already have abortion coverage to lose it.
I consider this in direct violation of the decision handed down by the Supreme Court in Roe v. Wade. By restricting even private insurers' ability to cover abortions, Congress is effectively taking the option off the table for many women, especially lower-income women. How can the abortion question be truly "left to the medical judgment of the pregnant woman's attending physician", or indeed of the pregnant woman herself, if their decision is colored by government-mandated unavailability of coverage? The previous stipulations that public money not be used directly to fund abortions were, I concede, reasonable. This, however-- this strays way too far into the territory of legislating morality.
I found myself in the same Catch-22 in which pro-choice Democrats in Congress found themselves this weekend: I want a health-care reform bill to pass. We sorely need this legislation. But we do not need it like this. We do not need it at the expense of the rights of the people it's supposed to be protecting. I hoped, despite my support, that the bill wouldn't pass. But it did, with the Stupak-Pitts amendment in it.
Things like this scare me, just like the repeal of Maine's gay marriage law scares me, and the election of a Virginia governor who once wrote a thesis stating that working women and feminists are "detrimental" to the family scares me. How can a nation in which I'm expected to put so much faith have so little faith in me?
Saturday, November 07, 2009
The Stupak-Pitts Amendment, or WTF Wednesday Came Early This Year
Falling asleep while listening to NPR leads to some rather strange dreams. Last night I recall huddling in my bathtub wrapped in a towel while hiding from some creepy window-peeper who eventually broke into the house, all while serenading me with "Fly Me To The Moon" and a variety of other crooning songs. I didn't really understand why that was happening until I woke up in the middle of an interview with Michael Feinstein.
...And now for something completely different.
IT'S!
Abortion and the health care bill!
I became aware of the debate surrounding HR 3962 and abortion funding via a community entitled "Feminist Rage." From this context, it's probably not hard to discern my feelings on the matter. Quite frankly, the whole abortion debate exhausts and infuriates me, right down to the rhetoric each side uses. (To borrow a term from lifenews.com: "Abortion advocates," my ass. They're hardly giving them out at BOGO sales or having Abortion Fairs, are they?) I, personally, believe that it is vital to women's health and safety to have regulated, professional abortion facilities available to everyone. I also believe that I have no business telling you what you should consider moral, just as you have no business telling me.
I will, however, tell you what is legal. Roe v. Wade provides that
"This right of privacy, whether it be founded in the Fourteenth Amendment's concept of personal liberty and restrictions upon state action, as we feel it is, or, as the District Court determined, in the Ninth Amendment's reservation of rights to the people, is broad enough to encompass a woman's decision whether or not to terminate her pregnancy" and that "..for the stage prior to approximately the end of the first trimester, the abortion decision and its effectuation must be left to the medical judgment of the pregnant woman's attending physician." Roe v. Wade, 410 U.S. 113 (1973)The fetus is not afforded any "right to life" under the 14th amendment, which does not include protection of the unborn. (Says the court, "We need not resolve the difficult question of when life begins. When those trained in the respective disciplines of medicine, philosophy, and theology are unable to arrive at any consensus, the judiciary, at this point in the development of man's knowledge, is not in a position to speculate as to the answer.")
My library time is about to expire, so I'll finish this tonight.
Friday, November 06, 2009
On The Bright Side
A note about my update schedule:
I don't have ready access to a computer on the weekends. My long-suffering Lappy finally died about a year ago, and while I save up for a new one, I'm borrowing my first mate's. He goes out of town on business during the weekends, and, well, there you are. Originally, I was going to update this blog on weekdays only, but you know what? Screw that. I didn't take on this project intending to make it easy on myself. So I'll be updating from the library on Saturday and Sunday, and I'll be updating early (and possibly perfunctorily) on Fridays.
Anyway, on to your regularly scheduled blog post.
Today I thought that, since I spend a lot of time ranting and raving (I once had a bumper sticker on my car which said "If you're not outraged, you're not paying attention," a philosophy I tend to take a little too seriously) it would be well worth the effort to spend some time on the things in my life that are great. This is easy to do this morning; my day off of work has given me time to enjoy all sorts of small luxuries. For instance, right now I have a pair of happy cats curled up in the places which they find most comfortable (Sophie is buried in a blanket and Ferdinand is stretched out in the sun with his belly up and his paws dangling.) I took my time over coffee with cinnamon and dipped into my super-secret emergencies-and-special-occasions stash of good chocolate that nobody knows about. (Er. Until now, I guess.) I did a few dishes and curled up with a book, and best of all, I get to lounge in one of Andy's button-down shirts and still have bedhead at 10 AM. Bliss.
Here are more things that are good about my life--
-- I have always had a wonderful relationship with my mother, and now that she's broadening her horizons and reevaluating her long-held beliefs and prejudices, we're only getting closer.
-- I've been in some tight financial spots this year, and my budget is still frugal, but every time I've seriously needed money, something has always happened so there was enough.
--I'm in gooey nerd love with a man who has promised not to have me committed, and we have exciting short- and long-term plans for our relationship.
-- Even when my jobs are frustrating, time-consuming, and far from what I want to be doing with my life, I still have a lot of fun with them. (I mean, come on. How often do you get to wear a robot costume or a squirrel hand puppet to work?)
-- This may sound egotistical, but I think I have a lot to work with. I'm smart, adaptable, creative, resourceful, and I can generally find some way to excel. And, despite being out of my preferred environment and away from my areas of strength, I haven't lost that touch.
All right, Figure Five Home Gamers, what is good about your lives? Let's celebrate some things!
Thursday, November 05, 2009
We Don't Need No Education?
Aha! A blog post in just under the wire, for multiple good reasons. (One of them was my solo audition, which ran until after ten. The others are personal, but I can assure you that they were very, very good.)
Tomorrow I have the day off for parent-teacher conferences, a respite which can't come soon enough for me. (For those of you not in the loop, I work at a high school as a teacher's aide.) I haven't been enjoying my job nearly as much as I usually do of late, and I'm not quite sure why. Part of it is, I'm sure, the recent spate of sad events (two funerals in a week is the worst kind of week) and the toll they've taken not only on my mental state but on my sleep debt-- I drove for a total of 51 hours between the two of them. The rest of it is probably the fact that high school students are approximately as mature as two kindergartners in a farting contest. Being that my other job is working with kindergartners, this shouldn't bother me, but it does.
I think the biggest problem with my job, though, is the fact that most of my students just don't give a damn about anything we're trying to teach them. The moments when I do inspire some curiosity or appreciation for the world are the best parts of my week, but it seems like they're getting to be few and far between. A few of the kids told me today that if I were to go into teaching "...you'd probably get your spirit crushed. Especially because you're young. People are really mean to young teachers." Then they go on to complain about the bitterness of their older teachers. Well, guys...
I like to believe it wouldn't be true, in the same way I like to believe that the world is fascinating and people are good and decency will prevail (see yesterday's post.) But it probably is. Constant whining and disrespect does wear on me, and I have very little patience with apathy. I cannot fathom not being interested in learning things, and I don't particularly want to familiarize myself with the mindset wherein that is acceptable. So, am I out of luck with education at all, then? Should I hold out for the few kids who are as fascinated as I am, or should I find some more lucrative and less hair-tearingly maddening profession?
P.S. Roger, is there a particular area in which you would like to be challenged, or any goal with which you'd like your challenge to align? If not, then I charge you to play a game of Calvinball with at least one other person who does not know they are playing. If they can go the whole game playing along without figuring out what's going on, so much the better.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
WTF Wednesday 1: Today In Politics
I'm not an angry person. Really. I prefer to believe that the world is fascinating and that people are good and that decency will prevail. Most of the time, I'm right. Sometimes, however... well, take a look for yourself.
The first news article that made me holler WTF this Wednesday concerns the recent layoffs at the Oak Brook library, but is really more about the way one lawyer is relishing making children cry. "Connie" Xinos, a homeowner's association president and Oak Brook resident, shot down an eleven-year-old girl who spoke in the library's defense at a village board meeting, telling her to "put her money where her mouth is" and that "I don't care that you guys miss the librarian, and that she was nice, and that she helped you find books." After the eleven-year-old was reduced to tears, Oak Brook's answer to Henry Potter gloated about his victory. " "I wanted that kid to lose sleep that night," a grinning Xinos [said] Wednesday, as he [invited] me for a nearly two-hour interview in his Mercedes-Benz in the gated Oak Brook community where he lives." People, what is wrong with that sentence? I almost expected to hear that Xinos had to kick the reporter out of his car after those two hours because he was late for his weekly puppy-kicking session.
Since Oak Brook has no property tax, the library is funded by sales taxes at the mall and area businesses. With buying going down, the Xinos-approved solution was to fire three of the full-time librarians (including the children's and head librarian) and several part-timers. To me, the addition of a minimal property tax to keep the library staffed and funded is a priority only slightly below maintaining emergency services-- as several commenters pointed out, where do you think the firemen get study materials and where do they take their qualifying tests? No sleep lost for Xinos, though-- as he said, "Don't cry crocodile tears about people who are making $100,000 a year wiping tables and putting the books back on the shelves." And this-- this is what really bothers me.
First of all, library science is a complicated and demanding field. Libraries provide scads of services that go way beyond table-wiping and book-shelving. A librarian with education and experience meriting that salary level has, I'm sure, as much time, training, and expertise in his or her field as a lawyer like Xinos. How many lawyers in his position make less than $100k a year? Yeah, that's right, I thought so.
If it were just Ebenezer Xinos and his Leave No Child Not Crying push, that'd be one thing. This seems to be symptomatic of a much larger and more infuriating problem, though--the devaluation of education, research, and academic pursuits in our country. I'm talking about Rush Limbaugh scoffing at funding going to "study the sex lives of female college freshmen" (actually part of a study on women's health.) I'm talking about McCain belittling Obama's requested equipment for the Adler Planetarium as "a $3 million overhead projector." I'm talking about all the people who respond to linguistics, philosophy, literature majors with condescension, mockery, or pity. I'm talking about George W. Bush's attempts to insult John Kerry by making him out to be an intellectual, and about the fact that they worked.
Is this a fitting product of our cultural heritage? Is this all we can expect of the nation which put a man on the moon, whose citizens invented the telephone, the lightbulb, the Tesla coil, the airplane, the EEG, the computer, the particle accelerator? Is this the message we want to send to our eleven-year-olds, weeping or otherwise? This rejection of all things intellectual is unworthy of us as a country with a reputation for innovation and opportunity, and in my opinion it ought to bring us down in the eyes of all who value curiosity, creativity, and human dignity. Our ability to express, to speculate, to ask the hard questions and fight tirelessly for answers is what sets us apart as a species. If we start to undermine these things for the sake of profit or political gain, we are all diminished.
And that's not even mentioning how mad I am about Bob McDonnell, the repeal of the Maine gay marriage ruling, and the parental notification law. They'll have to wait until next Wednesday, I suppose. Until then, GO GO GO, Washington Ref. 71. You're my only hope.
Labels: intellectuals, rants, WTF Wednesday
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
Introducing Trip Report Tuesday
Today I took one step towards my stated definition of awesome-- I wore spike heels. There was no katana, no 50-foot Christopher Walken, no parachute, and no cocktail dress. The heels were very hot, though. I wore them out to Miko with Andy, where we partook of sushi and plum ice cream. One of the things he and I have instituted is a weekly date night where we block off some time to do something together. Past activities have included the apple orchard/corn maze, trebuchet-building, movie nights, and the occasional dinner out. It's been nice. In the future I'm keen to check out the local planetarium and some of the university museums, and maybe find some live music or go dancing.
This is relevant because one of the principles behind date night is that connecting well does not necessarily require sweeping gestures or grand expense. In fact, there's usually something little and accessible that you can do right now to take yourself closer to any goal. I'm going to try to set myself little projects each Tuesday-- things manageable enough to make notable progress in a week, but challenging enough that I'll feel accomplished when I do them. Then, the following Tuesday, I'll post a report of my efforts.
If you choose, you may play along on the Fabulous Figure Five Home Game! Leave a comment, I'll suggest a project, you may take it up or not, and next Tuesday leave a comment with your trip report. For example, on the previous post's comments I might suggest that Chris write something (be it a short story or an appreciative letter) to send off to Playboy, Samantha try an organic recipe, and paxcogitum spend a bit of time recruiting around town. (Feel free to do any of these, or not do them.)
My projects this week are as follows: I will audition for several solos on the upcoming choir concert. I was going to do that anyway, though, so I'll give myself an additional project. I came up with a comic series a while back called Ducks of War (one of these days I'll scan it in here) and drew three and a half pages. The fourth page has been languishing half-done on my bulletin board. I will finish it by next Tuesday, scan the whole group, and post them here.
Anyone else up to take on a specific challenge? Drop me a comment! Anyone else up to take on a non-specific challenge? Have at least one meaningful conversation this week through a sock puppet. You know, a sock on your hand. Yes, really. Anyone think this is a really pretentious idea? Let me know!
Labels: tripreport
Monday, November 02, 2009
On What "More Awesome" Means
The stated goal of this blog is to assist me in making my life more awesome. "More awesome," however, is a rather subjective qualifier. Parachuting from a zeppelin onto a 50-foot-tall Christopher Walken while wearing an outrageously flattering cocktail dress and armed only with spike heels and a katana would certainly be more awesome than my life is now, but that's not the sort of result I demand from daily blogging. (Although I'll take it if I can get it.) I thought it might be useful to define exactly the sort of changes I need to make in my life.
My first issue is one of confidence. When I put my mind to it, I have a knack for finding a way to do whatever I damn well please, ignoring most obstacles and all naysayers. Trouble is, I've been afraid to put my mind to it of late. I've had some setbacks that took me down a peg or two too far, and now I need to reclaim the self-assured fearlessness that led me onstage and to France and to narrowly escape trespassing charges and so on.
Here's what I want to do with all that confidence: I want to write nonfiction and short fiction. I want to be published. I want to go to graduate school to research medieval French and English, and I want to earn my doctorate in Linguistics. I want to travel all over the world. I want to teach at a college somewhere I actually want to live. I want to sing in a good choir, and I also want to start a band or a jazz combo to do some gigs for fun. I eventually want to get married and raise children. I want to be closer to the people I love and build better relationships with my friends. I want to get good at aikido and keep up swing dancing. And I want to do it all without compromising my principles or abandoning the weirdness and adventurousness that are my favorite things about me.
I expect this exercise to assist me in several ways. First off, it will help me prove to myself that I can follow through on projects. I have a fairly short attention span and a bad habit of becoming passionately interested in things that I later drop for my next passionate interest. It's time I made that passion productive. Second, it's an opportunity to write for an audience, even an audience of illusory internet people. I want to keep the personal content secondary to essays and commentary and eventually to create something that someone who didn't know me would still want to read. Third, it's a way to create accountability, both to myself and to all you illusory internet people.
In that vein, I have a challenge for you. I'm sure all of you have some aspect of your life with which you are not satisfied, just like I want (among scads of other things) to write more. Share that in the comments (it's okay, it's not like the internet is real life or anything.) This month, let's all get off our asses and do something about it finally. That, my illusory internet friends, would be more awesome.
Labels: challenge
Sunday, November 01, 2009
A Quick Introduction
Hi! I'm Susan. I have a lot of opinions and no qualms about inflicting them on anybody else. But before I get on with that, I want to talk a little bit about this blog, its purpose, and its methods.
It started, as most good things do, while I was surrounded by inebriated friends and wearing a half-assed costume. (Although this used to be a weekly fixture in my life, on this particular instance it was Halloween, so I had conventional reason to dress like a robot.) I was sitting next to that pink-haired girl from Lazytown with a jalapeno pepper gyrating drunkenly in my lap when Meatwad from Aqua Teen Hunger Force asked me why I never called him. "I'm actually kind of pissed about it," he said.
Well, I thought about that for a minute while Meatwad went off to dance with a nun of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, and I realized that I don't call my friends because nowadays I never have anything interesting to say, and I'm ashamed of not keeping up the momentum with which I careened howling out of college and into the real world. Meatwad agreed that steps needed to be taken to make my life more awesome. One of my goals is to write more, so to that end, we agreed that I would blog every day for the month of November.
My reasons for this are as follows:
1) I want to get into the habit of writing every day
2) I would eventually like to have myself a column, and this is good practice for the format
3) I'm self-centered enough to want to rant to everyone.
So here it is. Features you will see here include:
Top Ten lists, updated on Monday (see sidebar)
Word of the Week, updated on Tuesday (see sidebar)
Political commentary
Snippets of short fiction
Occasional special features
And a whole lot of other random shit besides. If I do not provide any of this content, or if I begin to lapse in my daily updating, please find me and beat me with a tire-iron. I'm sick of not following through on my ideas.