Celebrate a Birthday

"World's Unlikeliest Bestseller" I love the Guinness Book of World Records. It's a book that contains more wonders than just about any other book on earth. I love bits of information that really have no value in and of themselves - besides being the winning Q&A in trivia games. So, celebrate a birthday, and take the Guinness Quiz.

Uh-Oh....

It started out as a perfectly normal Saturday morning in Domesticity Central. It was one of the weekends that the StepSon stays with us, so we were up late the night before watching all kinds of movies that only teenagers love (e.g., Dodgeball for the 199th time) or want to watch immediatly before going to bed (Carrie, followed by some movie so horribly gruesome I don't think the producers even bothered to name it). Satruday morning, it was breakfast followed by yardwork, which is where the uh-oh moment came in. StepSon didn't want to mow the yard. I have to admit, I'm with him - there is absolutely nothing fun about cutting the grass, only to find that you've become so sweaty that half of the grass is now stuck to your body. My husband, luckily, had the foresight to have a son so that we would not have to do such horrible manual labor ourselves. StepSon frequently disagrees with this view of the world. As his arguments escalated in pitch and volume, I found myself saying something that I swore would never cross my lips. "watch your tone...." Uh-oh. For most people, that means nothing. However, at one point in my life (I think it spanned about 5 years), my mother said those three words to me on at least a daily basis -probably because I, like many people in that age vacuum between the ages of 12 and 18, could inflect a mere two or three words - fewer, if the situation called for it - with enough sarcasm, disrespect and hostility to make a saint want to shake me. I came to hate those words. They reminded me that I wasn't quite at the point in my life where I could express myself as angrily as I wanted. I was old enough to have very definite ideas of how my life should be, and young enough to have no idea how to get there or make other people agree with me. I'm not one of those people who mind the fact that I'm saying things that my parents once said - after all, I haven't gotten to the point where I'm telling him to turn down his music. Still, it is a little disconcerting, to hear your mother's voice come out of your mouth for the first time. Maybe this weekend I'll try her famous "life isn't fair" response.....

Loss for Words....

I have resisted, so far, the urge to write down all of the wonderfully creative names for Bush that I have come up with over the past few days. Which is a pity, really, because some of them were quite good, and I'd like to remember them and possibly use them again. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure my mother reads this blog, and I'd hate for her to be shocked at her baby girl's language. I may be on the verge of losing my control, because of this. Unbelievably, our president has decided that we don't really need to get help from other countries for help with the effects of Katrina. All of these countries from around the world (including CUBA for the love....) have offered help. How does he respond? "Thanks, when can you get here?" Nah. Here's what he says: “I’m not expecting much from foreign nations because we hadn’t asked for it. I do expect a lot of sympathy and perhaps some will send cash dollars. But this country’s going to rise up and take care of it.” To be fair, it's not just Bush that's acting like an idiot. Cheney's AWOL (for national security reasons, I'm sure...), we're all admiring Condi's new shoes, and Louisiana Senator Mary Landrieu and Senator Trent Lott of Mississippi both had some dumbass...um, I mean... riveting comments for Anderson Cooper . Thank goodness the government has everything under control.

Pirate Day

Something happened to my husband a couple of years ago when we saw the movie Pirates of the Caribbean. It really affected his brain. His son was similarly affected, and - I found out later - so were many more men. They all left the movie talking like a pirate. I'm not sure what part of the male psyche makes them want to drink like crazy, kidnap beautiful women and sail away into the sunset with canon blasts ringing in their ears. In fact, I really don't want to think about it for prolonged periods of time, considering I did marry him after he went through the pirate phase. I'm pretty sure it's the same part of their brain that makes them talk like cowboys after seeing a John Wayne movie, though. And I'm kind of grateful that I was born without whatever gene makes them lapse into loony bits of arcane dialects. So what brought on the Pirate thoughts? the fact that I discovered an entire day devoted to being a pirate: Talk Like a Pirate Day is September 19th. And for the truly hardcore (or desperate) there are the pirate Pickup Lines available for use.

And the bad news goes on....

It's amazing how bad things seem to happen all at once, kind of like the old superstition that death always comes in threes. Tonight, I went to choir practice as I always do on Wednesdays. Since only about 5 of us showed up, we sat around talking about the hurricane for a while, and decided not to have practice. Over the course of the conversation, I heard more stories about people who have no where to go, no money to start over...people who are totally dependent at this point on their family and friends; many of these people have money in their bank accounts - but their ATM cards are not working because their bankhas been blown away, leaving no records behind. Terry's step-son is in Pensacola with his grandmother, who is insisting on returning to her "home" as soon as possible. Bud's family is in Baton Rouge, and they already know their house isn't standing anymore. Then, Bud told us his story about Friday night...some teenagers broke into his house; they ignored the thousands of dollars of studio equipment and computers that he has. They only took a pair of hiking boots, a pair of earrings and less than $2 in change. Later that night, he heard a strange sound outside...and woke up to see his next door neighbor's house burn to the ground. Literally, to the ground. Suddenly, my Man-of-War sting doesn't seem so bad.

Hurricane Thoughts

When it comes to weather catastrophes, I've been amazingly lucky. Ivan last year, and Dennis and Katrina (so far) this year. Nature constantly amazes me, with the endless surprises that she is willing and able to throw our way. Even more amazing is the human ability to adapt and survive through things that seem insurmountable. I've been reading and listening to quite a bit of the coverage regarding Katrina (no surprise there, half of the country is, too). My mind can't seem to get around the results of this storm. Looking at the pictures, reading the stories, hearing first hand accounts - all seem to leave me with a similar feeling of....disbelief. How can anything be this huge? There aren't any words to describe it...and the English language has a lot of words. Instead of thinking of the aftermath, my mind keeps returning to the hours and days before the storm hit. Instead of thinking "How would I live with the fact that I have no home to return to...", I keep thinking of the hours before Katrina landed. If I had been faced the knowledge that I had to flee - quite possibly for my life - what would I do? What would I choose to put in my car and carry away with me, knowing that anything I left would be gone forever? Since I got married only 8 months ago, the first thing that came to mind were my wedding pictures. The Mickey Mouse music box that my parents got me years ago when they went to Disney Land... The quilt that my grandmother made for me, that I only received after she had died...The picture on the mantle of me, age 2 or so, sitting on my father's lap with a bottle in my mouth (apparently recovering from some Awful Event that can only happen to two-year olds)...the picture of my husband with his brothers and cousin taken 25 or 30 years ago that (to him) represents his more carefree days...my cats and all the paraphernalia that goes with them...and, of course, my computer. But what about the things that I would choose to leave behind? Don't they say just as much about me as what I would choose to take? In the end, it doesn't matter for me -this time. To say that I'm thinking and hoping and sending positive thoughts to the people whose lives have been changed forever seems somehow...clichéd at this point. But I am, and I do.

Guilt and Innocence

Ok, we all know that I tried to stay as far away from the Michael Jackson case as possible. I didn’t watch a single moment of the trial on TV, and I turned the station off of the news as soon as the daily - let’s be honest, sometimes it was hourly - updates began. Not because I didn’t want to face the fact that he could be guilty (I don’t like the freak that much), but because I would never have to make a decision regarding his guilt. And unless it’s my responsibility as a juror to decide someone’s guilt, I prefer to leave it up to the people who are unlucky enough to be in that situation. I didn’t watch a moment of the OJ Simpson trial (ok, I admit – I was in High School, so wasn’t at home while the coverage was on – but you get the point), and I kept the recent Richard Scrushy trial at the far end of my radar, even though I live in the city where the entire scandal and trial took place.

I still don’t know if Michael Jackson’s guilty or not. But the mother of the child he allegedly molested (the mother who was responsible for the trial) has now had 5 felony accounts of welfare fraud brought against her. (Read here). She had received $150,000 from JC Penney as a settlement (no trial) in a civil (not criminal) case where security guards allegedly beat up the family.

trying to get money for something that was never proven?

But I really don’t want to make any conclusions about her guilt or innocence either. Again, thank the gods that’s not my responsibility. I think it’s interesting for one main reason: This story was posted on CNN’s website Tuesday night. I listen to about 4 hours of news on the public radio station per day, in addition to watching/listening to another hour’s worth of the news on TV (granted, the first 15 minutes probably doesn’t count – at least one of my eyes is usually still shut at that early time of the day – but, as my husband will tell you, there’s nothing wrong with my ears – even on less that half a cup of coffee). And I haven’t heard anything about this, nor have my two co-workers who were apparently so wrapped in the story they actually skipped some lunches to go find a TV and watch the coverage. I’m willing to bet that the story that “everyone” talked about this year (The Michaels Jackson trial – either keep up with me or drink more caffeine) will hardly be revisited by this new story on the child’s mother. Instead, people will remember that the celebrity got off the hook again.

Hmmm… I really meant this to be a short post. Me and my soapboxes….and as my best friend will tell you, I have plenty of them.

End of Summer

It's official - summer's over. I've had a few weeks of enjoying the sunshine (or what I see of it before and after work), I've made my end-of-summer pilgrimage to my sister's place in Florida....and, of course, I have a new class starting on Friday. I keep promising myself that one day I'll be finished with school. And I'm really tempted to start bragging about the fact that at the end of the semester I'll actually have my MLS. But I had the same urge last January - and here I am, 7 months later, still in school. And I had the same urge as an undergrad after 5 years of studying. Two years later, I got my B.A. And last week, in a moment of weakness, I decided that at some point, I'd like to get my M.A. in English. I'm either crazy because I like to have something to study my ass off for, or I'm crazy because I seem to like accruing more and more debt. Either way you look at it..... Hopefully I'll get online at home one day (instead of making clandestine posts from my desk while my boss is on his breaks) so I can put up some of the great pictures I've taken of my family - especially the nieces and nephews.

Computer Wonders

I'm lucky to work in a very specialized library where most of the users are very familiar with a computer. I spend very little time explaining the use of a mouse and other bits of computer lore. Occassionally, though, we get a faculty member who is One of The Last Ones to Hold Out. You know the type. The ones who have resisted, somehow, the lure of email, the ease of research, and the compulsiveness of blog-watching. One of those is in front of my desk right now, standing behind a row of computers. He's just casually walking around, looking at the computers - as if they are going to pop up with a sign that says "I will NOT hurt you so sit down and use me NOW!." He seems completely oblivious to the fact that they are all displaying blank blue screens with no more than 5 icons apiece. He has a look of slight interest on his face, as if he's trying to decide if this is, indeed, a bad habbit that he wants to pick up. I've seen some people resist this call-of-the-computer. Most people are sucked into the mating ritual, and lose their souls in minutes to Google and the vast amount of information at their finger tips. Sometimes you can read their minds: "I have a PhD for what? So that my students can do research 2000 times faster than I can?." Today, the genleman decides to take the plunge. He's been sitting in front of his screen for thirty minutes, now. Luckily, a student called me over to help at a computer by him. The student needed only a minute, and as I walked away, the gentleman called me over - "Miss, can you show me how to read the news online?" He wanted the Fox News website (damn it, I wish I were unethical enough to denounce Fox to him). I showed him how to find it, and he's been sitting there ever since. His computer is at just the right angle that if I pretend I'm reaching to the far edge of my desk, I can tell that he's STILL reading the news. Every once in a while, a look of confustion will cross his face, followed by a short look of triumph. I've seen that same look on my 9 year old nephew's face as he plays video games. It's amazing what computers can do these days.

Chinese?

My printer is now printing up half of everything in Chinese. I’ve only been here 10 minutes. Why do I suddenly feel as if it’s going to be a long week?