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Rotten Bastards

When I started this blog I had hoped to impart some of my political opinions, but decided that there was a vast wasteland full of political commentators in blogland as it was and most of them were going to be far more eloquent than I, or at least far more verbose. It’s probably no surprise that I’m just about as liberal as I can be. But, I also have a couple of things I swing pretty conservatively on. But, today is a day I have to vent.  And, I only bring one solution.

I get pretty sick to my stomach when I read things like SF Mayor Gavin Newsom’s alcohol-fueled affair with his friend’s wife (both of whom were on the City payroll, I believe) last year. But, Gavin does some good stuff and has had some successes in a city where the problems of homelessness, affordability, and a decaying infrastructure are pretty serious. He’s a champion of gay rights and takes bold steps to make things right for the large segment of his constituency who then and now do not share equal marriage rights with straight people. Then I read about that hack in Detroit, Kwame Kilpatrick, who sounds to be about the most corrupt politician since Tammany Hall days. His city lies in financial ruin and he’s dipping his pen in company ink and his courting tool of choice is city-paid text messages. It looks like once that case is laid out for the world to see there will be far more nefarious news. Dumb ass. Is it just inherent that if you are a politician you are going to also be corrupted in one form or fashion?

After about year five of Bush’s reign, I gave up trying to make any change during his reign of incompetence. Sure, I’d bitch and I’d vote, but what else was left? He and his cronies have pretty much sewn up any avenue for the American people to truly understand or do anything about the damage he has caused them in the areas of civil liberties and personal, unobstructed freedoms we are Constitutionally entitled to all supposedly done in the name of “protecting us from terrorism.” I am still stunned that after the first four years, people could actually vote for him again. Now, he’s a worn-out, tired-out, failure of a president who is going to be leaving us in not only a serious recession, but also in the midst of a war we neither afford in terms of our world political position, its cost in human lives, nor its actual financial costs. Our country’s debt is increasingly owned by foreign countries, our monetary unit is losing strength, and his ilk still deny the reality of global warming by keeping rules and regulations “business friendly.” Kyoto? We don’t need no stinkin’ Kyoto Accord! What has he done for us? Not a damn thing at my house, that’s for sure.

As I paid my grocery bill today, I wondered how I’m going to make these dollars I make stretch far enough to keep us safe, clothed, warm, and fed. I then filled up my gas tank. I pictured the day that the lines at the gas station would not be too long because no one can afford to fill up anymore. Of course, we haven’t invested in viable public transportation in most our cities, including mine, so get out the bicycle—hey, maybe that would solve the obesity problem our country—and, hey, the healthcare crisis too – if everyone is on their bike, they’ll be in better shape and won’t need to go to the doctor. That will cut pollution, force us to take jobs closer to our homes, and spur the economy. So, we can expect a new bicycle for every tax paying citizen instead of that ridiculous tax rebate he’s got coming our way. Right? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear this great idea in Bush’s next press conference. It’s as half-assed as all the rest of his ideas.

I’ve needed a laugh and well, I got one. Actually, I’ve had a couple since yesterday. The first was when I discovered Martini Cartwheels – brief glimpses inside the mind of a smart-ass, and now this from Hapless Tigger.

Diebold Accidentally Leaks Results Of 2008 Election Early

Something Borrowed: Bibliophile’s Catch-22

 

In the third installment of “Some thing,” the brainchild of The Other Mother, I give you a moment of clarity.

1. Something old
2. Something new
3. Something borrowed
4. Something blue

Once, I had a vast library of books.  It was my hobby and one of my many passions.  I had no children and lots and lots of time to read.  I collected specific volumes of certain genres and authors.  At any given time, I could be reading three or four books at a time.  Once, I lived in a house where there was a “library”—an extra wide hallway lined with built in bookcases.  In fact, that’s why I bought the place—having a place to put all those books after years of hauling them around from place to place in boxes was the most sensuous experience.  I probably went through about a book every day.  My favorite haunts were used bookstores.  I kept checklists of books I had, books I wanted, and authors I wanted to explore. 

I was more than happy, after vigorous discussion over a book or author with a visitor, to loan the book or books to them.  What better thing than to loan them out?   It would provide me the excitement of further discussion when next we met—and of course it was all about me. What I noticed though, is that often I wouldn’t get the books back for weeks or months, or at all.  I’d have to hunt them down.  I then imagined the book, being covered in layer after layer of dust, untouched, unread, and unreturned—languishing in someone’s bathroom magazine stand or shoved into a drawer next to their spare vibrator batteries. Damn people.  How irresponsible.   They, wondering how the hell they ended up with yet another loaned book they’d never read and me, irritated and annoyed at that blank spot on the bookshelf.   

Then, I got it—years later, as I got older and wiser—they hadn’t asked to borrow the book.  I had basically shoved it down their throat—so eager was I to have them enjoy what I enjoyed.  If they returned it, I’d surely ask how they liked it or engage in a related conversation and they’d have to admit they hadn’t read it at all.  If they didn’t return it, they’d not be able to face me knowing they still had the book.  Definitely a Catch-22, Bibliophile Edition. I then stopped loaning books. 

But, about two years ago, a friend pleaded with me to borrow my no-longer-in-print Autobiography of Elsa Gidlow:  I Come With My Songs, so I reluctantly loaned it to her.  We share a love of her Sapphic poetry.  She knew how I loved the book, so I was sure she’d return it promptly.  Weeks turned into months, months into a year, then well into the next.  One day, while shopping at Beer’s Books, I ran across a copy, despite its rarity—the solution presenting itself like a miracle—I really didn’t want to have to take her out.  I bought it and left her a message that she could keep the book—I knew how she loved it.  And, me, well I got to shove the one I bought into that lonely blank spot on the bookshelf.

Take A Letter, Maria

I have to thank Secrets I Can’t Keep for this idea.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Dear Subway Restaurant,

When I come in and give you my order and you ask me what kind of bread I want, don’t insist I select my bread from the picture on the glass and let me order only to tell me that all you have is wheat or white.  And don’t look at me like I’m a criminal because I walk out after you start the sandwiches because you don’t know what goes on your own sandwiches and put so little meat on it, it bears no resemblance to the picture on the menu.  All hail Quizno’s!

Not Going There Again,
HAH

—–

Dear Middle School Principal,

I’m in the final year of three kids going through your school.  Do you think, for once, you could provide your automatic phone notification more than one day in advance for things like awards ceremonies, back to school nights, and other things I want to attend, but can’t because I get absolutely no warning?   It just seems to me that six hundred sets of parents have to bend to your freakin’ poor planning just a little too frequently.  How about providing a start time and sticking to it and letting us know what grades start when so I don’t have to sit through 400 names of people I don’t know and couldn’t give a shit about?

Sick of Public Officiousness,
HAH

—–

Dear Western Dental, 

Thousands of dollars have been paid in advance to you to provide orthodontic treatment to two kids.  Your office is dirty, loud, disorganized, your records aren’t kept current, you make people wait forever even if they arrive on time, and you staff doesn’t know its right hand from its left—been sniffing the happy gas, or that works for you?   I can see the $$ flash in your eyes when someone with private insurance walks in and I’d love it if Medi-Cal audited your ass.

Kiss My Root Canal,
HAH

—-

On a lighter note—hey Guy—stole this from the Cap’n, but wanted you to have it so I plundered

.

Chemistry Meets Guidelines

First, be sure to go over and catch The Drowning Pisces’ series on women this week.  The first installment was terrific!  There’s a new blogger out there who is both a new member of the Cap’ns crew and part of the Posse at Happy Hands Ranch.  She’s pretty cool!  Oh, and remember, send your question to Ask the Middle-Aged Lesbian – talk to me, baby!

I’ve been a little wrapped up in working with that LGBTQ project down in Arkansas the last few days.  I can’t wait to see how things work out for them.  They have a lot of enthusiasm and it’s an extremely needed service.  Thanks to all who were kind enough to donate either money or time/counsel to this very worthy cause.

How exciting will my weekend be?  I get to go away.  For a whole weekend.  To beautiful Mendocino County on the north coast with Magical Samantha.  Without kids.  Without dogs.  Where the only thing to do is each other and listen to the ocean and sit around the hot tub by candlelight.  It’s our first weekend “away’ – no dogs, no kids, no kitties, no e-mail, no blog, no pressure.  I hope they have a place to plug in the HMW though, don’t like to have her too far away.  Uncle Doreen is my savior on making it all possible – I bow to her – she’s staying her for two glorious nights to make sure the kids don’t dial too many 900 numbers or download expensive Internet porn. 

When we first started dating, Magical Sam had a formula of “guidelines” that led her in the process.  The basic guideline was no more than one date per week and no sex for at least 10 dates—if everything went really well.  I was willing to play along.   My imagination had run amok—why not have a little buildup?   In fact, I was the perfect angel.  So unlike me.   Plus, it turned out, I was really digging her big time.   But, Chemistry hadn’t met Guidelines.  She has a committee she consults (can you say Sybil?)  on these things, and somehow she, her committee, and her sister managed to rationalize combining phone calls, e-mails, and other forms of contact to give us credit against dates we had yet to have.  Somehow we made it to, I think, date 4 or 5.  Chemistry wrestled the hell out of Guidelines – pinning them to the mat, for a count lasting a lot longer than 10.

So, here we are, about four months later and about to head out on our first-ever weekend away and she says, “This is a little early for a weekend, according to the guidelines.”   I said to her, after realizing I still haven’t seen these mysterious guidelines that are ruling my life, “Honey?  What the fuck?  I’ve explored every inch of your body multiple times and you’ve met my kids.”  It was clear my own personal “Star Wars” program had to be launched, and defense budget be damned—Guidelines, here comes Chemistry.

No Autographs, Please (Band Meme)

Mimi Lenox tagged me with this meme. This was fun and easy! Here’s how it goes. You are about to have your own band’s CD cover. Follow these directions to the letter.

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random

The first article title on the page is the name of your band.

2. http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3

The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.

3. http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/

The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4. Use your graphics program of choice to throw them together, and post the result as a comment in this post. Also, pass it along in your own journal because it’s more amusing that way.

If you want to play, please do…

Radio Matthew
Drowning Pisces
Closer to Fine
Red Hog Diary
Wishful Writer
Working the Room

Tired Ass Old Woman

I returned to work for good today after taking Thursday and Friday off last week (after only being in the office one day, I couldn’t take it). Paid for it today though. Bitchin’. So, here I had this little thing laying around - you know, a backup in case I am too cranky or tired. I seriously need to build a little stockpile of these things because I feel a whole lotta’ cranky and tired coming on this month. Some might say I’ve waited too long in fact.

So, in response to my dear and old friend (and I mean that in the he’s way older than me kind of way in addition to me knowing him since I was 10), I give you my response to Red Hog Diary’s request for Four Things. I encourage you to drop by his place if you want to know anything about being a Democrat in Iowa. Great Obama coverage.

Four jobs I have had in my life:

1. Signals Intelligence Analyst trying to figure out if those crazy Cyrillic letters were someone’s grocery list or a matter of national security.

2. C3 Intelligence Analyst bugging phones and breaking security

3. Ice cream dipper hoping against hope I’d get selected for Baskin-Robbins

University

4. Finance manager looking to live by the sea building boats

Four movies I would watch over and over:
1. Love, Actually
2. Best Years of Our Lives
3. Houseboat
4. Giant

Four places I have lived:
1. …incognito
2. …it up
3. ….like there was no tomorrow
4. …so my children could be my slaves – at least that’s what they say

Four TV Shows that I watch:
1. Endless reruns of Sex & the City
2. Cold Case
3. Oz reruns
4. Judge Judy (seriously, don’t laugh, I’m an addict)

Four places I have been:
1. In trouble
2. Out of sorts
3. Up to no good
4. In love

People who e-mail me (regularly):
1. My boss
2. My girlfriend
3. My son (from upstairs)
4. My aunt, who has a love of the senseless “forward”

Four of my favorite foods:
1. Sea Scallops
2. Snow Crab
3. Uni
4. Mom’s homemade noodles

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In the arms of Magical Samantha
2. Walking on the beach
3. Spending my retirement income
4. Being interviewed by Conan O’Brien about my amazing blogging career

Four things that I’m looking forward to this year:
1. A change in the status quo
2. World peace
3. Solving the nightly “What’s for dinner” dilemma
4. More orgasms

Gratitude

Thanks to Drowning Pisces, Red Hog Diary, Hapless Tigger, and everyone else who donated or will be doing something in their own neck of the woods.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I “spoke” with the development folks at the Home today and they are refining their online donation system forthwith.  Right on!  Change is a’comin’.

I spent the evening sending out my Christmas cards – little factory action going on with Em on the stamps and address labels and me on the notes and pictures. We are a well-oiled machine.

Thank you.

Heart Attack

Though I try to keep up with music, I find myself constantly falling behind for a variety of reasons.  Like because I play the same three songs from the radio over and over until I’m so sick of them I never want to hear them again so have no time to find “new” artists.  But, one day, I got a note from someone on Facebook, so I went to check her out.  I ♥ her bigtime.

Creation:  Trish Monaco is mixing her latest CD and is taking preorders. There are several good reasons to spontaneously go buy your girlfriend a CD by a “new” artist—all of which may lead to you ending up naked due to your incredible thoughtfulness.  I dig her blog too, where you can actually make an order.  Love her lyrics, love her edge.  Did I mention I ♥ her? 

Resurrection:  Ask and Ye Shall Receive, the brutally honest blog review site that still retains heart, dark though it may be, is BACK.  If you are dying for a blog review, go sign up now before the line gets too long!  When you’re done, you’ll no longer be dying, but you’ll probably be bleeding a little.  It actually helped me immensely (after I finished crying).  I ♥ them too! 

Brief Hiatus:  My blog buddy Guy of Astoria Oregon Rust hasn’t been blogging for a few days.  Seems there was this killer storm that knocked out his electricity and did some very serious damage to the entire area.  Guy is still without electricity.  One of his friends posted that Guy and family are okay, but everything’s a mess. Phew.  I am seriously missing my cranky, middle-aged straight guy.  Ah, okay, I ♥ him too and hope his place is back to normal soon.

Obviously, I have just figured out how to put heart in my blog.  Brilliant, ain’t I?

Peace out!

One Thing Leads To Another

In brief, I had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with our friends Mellie & Dave, Dave’s folks, and Uncle Doreen.  The food and company was fantastic.  Mel has a nice little tradition where everyone has to bring an item with them that they are willing to part with, but has meaning to them.  When each person selects something that speaks to them, the donator tells the story behind the item.  Tonight, I came home with a small vial of lavender and myrrh that Mellie got when she used to belong to a woman’s drum circle.  Very cool.  I felt very fem-centric in that moment.  It was a visit to remember, for many reasons.  I thank them kindly for their friendship and hospitality.  Oh, and for the leftovers!

Don’t forget, as the month comes to an end, to go vote for two very talented writers, Wishful Writer and Starr Ann Chronicles at BlogInterviewer. 

I don’t have time to read crap.  I don’t feel any compulsion to finish a book if it’s bad.  I don’t read blogs that are badly written.  I will totally read and re-visit blogs written about people I hold no common ground with, if it’s well-written.  They can even be Republicans.  When I do find a talented writer, I love to sing their praises (albeit in an totally off-key way) and today’s case is no different.

When I first started exploring blogs before I had a blog on my own, I ran across a Sacramento blog called A Gag Reflex.  I read a chapter and was absolutely riveted.  But, being the bone-head I am sometimes, I didn’t bookmark it and spent weeks trying to find it again.  Was it, “Ball Gag,” “Gag Me With A Spoon,” “Gaggles of Geese?”  I couldn’t remember.  Finally, I remembered!  I bookmarked it and read on…I couldn’t stop.  I was sneaking chapters in between meetings and while on conference calls.  When it ended, I kept saying to myself, “This needs to be a book.”  Check it out and let me know what you think!

“Finally, after 13 years of searching… I found the man who was rumored to be my father- and asked him to take a DNA Test… while I blogged about it.  Then, before I could edit my spelling… a whole bunch of incredible readers actually started reading it… and reading it… and reading it. Next thing you know I’ve got a lit agent and a little book deal… not that it’s been easy mind you.  This blog documents the search for my identity… and the discovery of my sanity. Join me as I battle personal demons and sort through a wack-ass legacy…left to me by my dead, drug addict, and much loved con-artist Mother.”

Great news—Cori’s blog will be published in book form by Seal Press in the Fall of 2008.  Don’t wait until she’s published, go take a look now.

Cori is also a talented jewelry designer.  She asked me to let you know about her new site—so I’m here to tell you.  You need cool jewelry for your girlfriend this holiday season.  The place to get it is at Cori’s Etsy.   Seriously, they are hot!  And, what the hell, it’s always good to pump some money into women-owned businesses, eh?