If you read this post yesterday, you know what I said about the atrocity that Matt Drudge committed this week. And you also know that I'm a Drudgeaholic, but I'm making myself go cold turkey and not read it anymore.
Instead of talking about it even more, I'm just going to link to a campaign to "Drop Drudge." (hat tip: girlfriday).
I know gf likes to mock those of us who don't know what it means to "Digg" something, but it's actually quite simple.
Go the site, sign up (using your blogger name is a good way to do it) then "Digg" stories by linking to them.
Let's do what we can to make him not be considered "the most powerful journalist in the world." (Yep, the UK Telegraph printed a story yesterday stating that he is.)
One of the great travesties of the media's portrayal of President Bush is that they so rarely talk about how likeable he is. That's all we ever heard about Bill Clinton. But because Bush 43 tends to be more discreet and act with humility, it's not thrown in our faces on a weekly basis that he is in fact a quite compelling person. If you haven't read or heard anything about the Bob Geldof interview with Bush during his farewell tour to Africa, I suggest that you do. Geldof actually has positive things to say about the President (I know, I fell out of my chair, too) and admits his surprise to finding out the man can be a funny as he is. He also points out that the work Bush has done for Africa greatly exceeds efforts made by his predecessors. Pretty impressive stuff. But you're not hearing that on the news.
And you're probably not hearing about Angelina Jolie's latest report from Iraq. She thinks we should stay there. She thinks our national security depends on it.
I will be borrowing one of my husband's famous sweaters
"A tribute to children's public television pioneer Fred Rogers will include an effort to get people everywhere to wear a sweater on what would have been his 80th birthday.
March 20th is being promoted as "Sweater Day" to honor Rogers, who died of cancer five years ago. A sweater was his trademark garb on "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood."
[snip]
'Sweater Day' is the capstone to a six-day celebration planned by Family Communications Inc. of Pittsburgh. Rogers created the company to produce his show. "
Not a speck of makeup, and she can still win an Oscar! What a shock, but I'm pleased. Haven't seen Michael Clayton, haven't seen any of the nominated movies for that matter, except for Once, and that's only up for song, but Tilda Swinton is fierce in anything.
...and I just have to say that Amy Adams has a pair of brass ones. Singing a Disney song in that perfectly adorable, Princess voice, totally alone on a stage in front of a majority of her peers. You go, girl!
Why in Hell does Fidel Castro...or Hugo Chavez, or any number of other "freedom fighters" around the world...continue to be lionized by the intelligentsia and the "beautiful people?" One reason is because these individuals tend to be in love with their own intelligence and their college educations, and that feeling of belonging to a portion of society that really "understands the world's complexities." The fact that they have yet to get over the bone-cracking dialectical reasoning of Marxism-Leninism is something that rarely occurs to the Oliver Stones and Sean Penns and Danny Glovers of the world.
Lenin's explanation as to why capitalism didn't evolve into socialism and then into communism largely has to do with his idea that capitalists bribed the people of the developed world through better goods and higher wages to accept capitalism. It is a lifestyle and mode of living entirely dependent on "colonizing" the under- and undeveloped countries of the world by paying their people "slave wages" or stealing their commodities for use in the international capitalist machine.
So if you buy that basic argument and your heart bleeds for the poor of the earth (who are often much better off as part of the world economy than when left to the tender mercies of their indigenous "leaders"), then you might very well believe that Castro (or Che Guevara) is a hero of sorts because he kept sticking it to the capitalists, whatever the cost to his own people. People like Castro advance the cause of socialism by getting in the way of the imperialist swine, who are trying to delay the golden dawn of communism, so whatever evil they might have to do in the pursuit of the greater good is forgivable.
Of course, if you buy that argument, you might very well be awake on the night before Easter looking for the bunny to deliver eggs, but we all have our blind spots.
We read stories all the time about how the American Dream has died, or how the world is conspiring against us in a way that makes success difficult or impossible without an "in" of some kind or another.
And this time he's singing the praises of flood insurance.
So run out and get it. Go insure yourself up the wazoo.
Then after you get some water in your house, chat with some people who've been screwed by Ye Old Insurance Agencies because flood insurance only covers you if, drum roll please, water comes IN YOUR FRONT DOOR OR THROUGH YOUR UPPER WINDOWS.
Insurance Magnate: "Let's say that the damages were due to seepage. Then we won't have to pay."
Maybe you might have some advice to give on how to be insensitive.
Dating is not a topic that gets a lot of coverage here on good ol' gf. Seeing as I am the last remaining single [read: smart] girl on this blog, I've decided the burden lands squarely on my shoulders. Sure, we've mocked our Christian Singles Ad, or two, but we've never just delved into dating, and all of its horrific nature. I have especially avoided the subject, and my reasons for this are three-fold:
1) I'm fiercely private about my personal life, a fact my family abhors and I am trying remedy. Baby steps, people, baby steps. 2) Well, as girlfriday pointed out, I'm jaded. While the other femmes on this blog might wax romantic about their hubbies, or complain about the little quirks they each have that get under their skin; Me, I wish I wrote the words quoted in this post's title. 3) I'm not looking for Mr. Right. I have no interest in settling down before I'm 30, or before I garaduate from college, we'll see which comes first. So inevitably I've dated a lot of Mr. Wrongs, and frankly I'm just not always interested in sharing about those travails.
Sometimes, however, I am.
The other day I wrote this post that was this story about how boys are stupid, one boy to be specific. But I erased the post before it had even been up an hour. As far as I know, only Elphaba's eyes were lucky enough to view it. I didn't mind sharing the story with those I know who read and contribute to this blog. But putting something personal on an open forum like a blog is always risky. I should know. I got burned once stumbling upon something online that I wasn't supposed to that was written about me. Even though the words I erased from here last week weren't particularly hurtful, they just weren't words I would say to this guy face-to-face. So I decided this wasn't the place to share the story.
I will share, however, that I'm currently single. Yep, you heard it here first, folks. Totally back on the market and soon to be traipsing in and out of bars, my best friend at my side (Words to warm any mother's heart). We just need to get over whatever bug we've caught this week.
Am I the only one who thinks it's strange there's a Castro AND a Noriega amongst the "American Idol" boys? Not that I watch it, of course. I just heard...that...somewhere.
Why Are They Celebrating? They Might Confuse Oliver Stone.
"As news of [Castro's] resignation spread, motorists honked vigorously at police patrol cars and television reporters. Shouts of "Free Cuba!" echoed in the streets, and small groups gathered to chat in local eateries. But there was no widespread celebration, just caution."
I'm puzzled. These celebrants are treating Castro's resignation like it was a good thing. I thought Castro was our friend, spirtual guide and inspiration.
"I hope this is the beginning of the end of the system, but we have to wait," said 35-year-old chemist Omar Fernandez, who left Cuba for the U.S. six years ago.
Poor soul; he's been misinformed. He should have dined with Steven Speilberg and Fidel until the early morning hours. Spielberg announced that his dinner with Castro "was the eight most important hours of my life."
Model Naomi Campbell declared that Castro was "a source of inspiration to the world," and Oliver Stone called him"Very selfless and moral. One of the world's wisest men."
Personally, I'd trust Naomi, Stevie and Oliver before I'd trust a bunch of Cuban transplants dancing in the streets of a free USA. What have they contributed? Who are THEY? Bunch of ungrateful serfs.
The beautiful people always know best, especially when they have nothing at stake.
Lately, my eldest son, a 4 year old affectionately known as Wyatt Earp, as been cracking me up.
The other day in the car with my mother in law, we (she and I) were talking about my dad, who is known in our house as "Bup." My son overheard us and piped in from the back, "Oh, I know that guy who lives in New Mexico. He's the tall one. They call him Bup." For just a moment I was sure I could hear Ennio Morriocone's theme from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" whistling across the back seat . . . .
Earlier this week, W. Earp took a walk with a neighbor and her 5 year old son around the block. After about 15 minutes my front door opened and my son ran into the house saying, "I have to go potty!" He bolted past me as Mrs. J. said, "W., don't you have something to tell your mom?" He poked his head out from around the alcove leading into the bathroom and looked at me sheepishly. I looked at him and then at Mrs. J. who did not seem upset and even had a slight smile on her face. W. walked over to me, but would not talk. Finally, Mrs. J. informed me that during their walk, he and her 5 year old and been running ahead of her when my son, apparently struck by a sudden and intense urge to urinate, dropped trou in the front yard of another neighbor and just took care of business!
Today I took W. out for a bike ride. He got a new bike for Christmas and has been slowly getting the hang of it. We took his helmet out for the first time too. I think this was more interesting to him than the bike. I glean that from the fact that twice he stopped, got down on his knees and deliberately banged his head on the sidewalk several times to demonstrate that if he fell off his bike his head would not hit the ground - just the helmet. It's hard to argue that logic.
I could probably make this post a top ten list, but that would involve a lot of thinking and going through 100's of post-it notes and scraps of paper to collaborate it, so I'm just presenting you with one that is definitely worth documentation.
Here's a favorite original quote of 2007 from one of "my" kids. Comes from A.C., in December, said to her baby brother whilst holding him:
"You're so cute I want to wrap you up and sell you on e-bay."
What's funnier still is that I later found out the first time she used that line, it was to her Mom when she was asking her 7-year-old daughter's opinion when trying on a dress in a store.
The name "Devil" derives from the Greek word diabolos, which means "slanderer" or "accuser".[1] In mainstream Christianity, God and the Devil are usually portrayed as fighting over the souls of humans, with the Devil seeking to lure people away from God and into Sheol. The Devil commands a force of lesser evil spirits, commonly known as demons. The Hebrew Bible (or Old Testament) does not assign this level of personification to the devil; there, the Adversary (Ha-satan) is a servant of God whose job it is to test humankind.
I changed it to this:
The name "Devil" derives from the Greek word diabolos, which means "slanderer" or "accuser".[1] In mainstream Christianity, God and the Devil are usually portrayed as non-equal spirits fighting over the souls of humans, with the Devil seeking to lure people away from God and into Sheol. The Devil commands a force of lesser evil spirits, commonly known as demons.
I tweaked some other things. Man are people misguided.
That whole page needs major revisions. I wish my more thoughtful, educated readers would review it and consider how it can be improved upon.
I have been laughing out loud and I'm going to keep laughing every time I recall the stupidity of what I'm about to relate.
I'm becoming a liberal.
But that's not what's funny.
New theory. The ratio of flaming left-wingers to conservatives on social networking sites is 10:1. I'm not saying right-wingers aren't on the Internet; I'm saying they don't spend (read: waste) as much of their time on like Digg.*
But I've been going there mostly just to Digg articles, but once or twice I've commented on another post. (I can feel my heart starting to bleed.)
That was the case when I saw someone's Digg for Jon Stewart’s Farewell to Mitt Romney: “F*c# Y%u. Watch it if you want to see what Jon Stewart really thinks. Oh, you already knew? Hmmm, he usually sticks to humor and avoids partisanship. How odd.
I think I pretty much summed it up when I commented, "Remember when Jon Stewart was funny? Now he's just a hack." I SO offended 47 people who dugg this article, I got -47 diggs for my comment.
One of them, nogChoco, even went so far as to say, "Remember when your comment was still on +1 ?" And THAT was so well-received by readers that 16 people dugg HIS comment (to my comment, which was a comment).
As the kids say, ROFL.
PS: Digg this post.
*Note to the old fogies: If you don't know what Digg is or don't care, you may not understand this post. I'll call you on your green rotary phone later and explain.
Gifts If you give me a gift and I am going to have to install it, assemble it, paint it, build it, refurbish it, or do anything more than unfold it and put it on, open it and read it, unwrap it and eat it, or just set it on a shelf, then do not give me any crap when I have not done any of the first five aforementioned things. It's a gift. Unless you are God, I am not obligated to use it. ESPECIALLY if I didn't ask for it. I may very well want to install it, assemble it, paint it, build it or refurbish, but just have not found the time. Or I might think it was nice of you to THINK I'd have the wherewithall to undertake a project and complete it before I die, but I'm just not interested. I'll thank you and be gracious. But don't nag me about it. You don't know my obligations. It's not a gift if there are strings attached. We've all seen that episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond."
E-mails I do not check my e-mails daily. If you send me an e-mail that contains information that is a priority for you and I do not respond in a day or two, then please feel free to pick up the phone and call me. I have two phones - a cell and a landline. I will respond to this, if not immediately, then as quickly as I can. But e-mail is not my primary mode of communication. Telling me, however "sweetly and gently," to check it more regularly is inappropriate on your part. I have not told you to use this as a way of getting important information to me. I do not work in an office where e-mail is the accepted method of communicating alot of important information. E-mail does not help me accomplish the goals of my daily job - raising children, running my home, being a good wife. As a matter of fact - quite the opposite. So please don't send out a group e-mail with my name on it, containing information to which you have not directly addressed me, never pick up the phone to call me, and then be annoyed with me for not responding.
Advice If you profer advice to me four, five or 15 times and I don't take it, there is a VERY high probability that I am NEVER going to take it. That may be because I don't think I need it, I don't like it, or I just don't care. I may have a very good reason for not taking your advice. Or I may not. Either way, I'm an adult now, and I don't have to take advice if I don't want to - even if that advice might, in your opinion, make my life easier, make me thinner, make me happier, or make me a better parent. I'm not telling you to never open your mouth and make suggestions - this the rightful purvue of any loving family member or friend. But, if after several tries, I do not appear to be taking your advice, it is not because I didn't hear you the first, second, and third time. You are no longer offering your wisdom, you are nagging. I probably have a different opinion about what it is you are suggesting and it's possible (though, after this post, you may think it unlikely) that I am trying to be polite and refrain from pointing out everything that is patently wrong with your idea. Don't push it!
--------------------------- Okay, all better now. Thank you for indulging me. Now that that is off my chest and I have told everyone to get over themselves, I will go back to trying to get over myself. --------------------------- Disclaimer: If you are one of the lucky individuals who just finished reading this rant, please do not be offended. I doubt that it was directed at any of you. Those to whom it was directed have never, and I'm 99.9% sure won't ever read this post, which is why I put it here. I just needed to vent.
It appeared as if it would be a normal Thursday morning. But that is where I was wrong. So wrong. I had just settled in to give Sweet and Creamy his morning bottle when I heard some bizarre beeping noises coming from an unknown location....in my house? No, it must be my neighbor's alarm system going off. I don't know. It stopped, but then started up again and this time it became clear that my house was definitely involved somehow. Every time it started going off, it wasn't the same noise. Sometimes it was just a single repeating beep - the sound of a smoke alarm needing a battery change.
A couple seconds later it sounded like two totally different car alarms trying to sing a duet......in different keys, really loudly, with different words and in different tempos. Did I mention that it was REALLY loud? I now had to set S&C down, leaving him crying because his bottle was not finished, and go see what in the hell was going on. Further investigation and some random pressing of buttons on the alarm system keypad (we're not connected to a monitoring system - so the police and/or security company weren't being notified of our loud problem)and the problem had gotten worse. It was not randomly turning off and on now, if was just on.
I called Tall Dark and Handsome and immediately began freaking out. "You've got to calm down!" he said. I couldn't. I got off the phone. I couldn't rest easy until the noise stopped. It was like the time, when I was about eight years old, and I was in the glass elevator in Town Square mall downtown St. Paul and I pressed the alarm button. The alarm exploded like fire works inside the mall and everyone was looking at me because they could see me. For the love of Benji, I was in a glass elevator!! Or the time when I was minding my own business, driving to work one morning and my car's horn just starts honking it's ass off. All by itself, like it had been kept silent for too long and now was the time to let the whole world know it had a voice and will of its own. I kept mouthing to the drivers in the cars around me, holding my hands in the air, "It's not me! I'm sorry!" Or maybe I just sunk down really low in my seat and tried to make it to work not getting behind any motorcycle gangs.
Anyway, TDH told me in between my outbursts of frustration that I needed to unplug the whole system. I had tried that but it wouldn't come out of the outlet. Very quickly I became aware that it was screwed into the outlet and I couldn't unplug it until I unscrewed it. Which I did. And it stopped.
I'm just SO glad Jane (four year-old daughter in a pre OCD phase) was not there because with her latest fear of the smoke alarm beeping, we would have needed to start her in therapy yesterday.
Now that my house is in a vulnerable state - a fire could start without warning or an intruder could intrude, I wonder if it would be worse to be robbed or really, really embarrassed? I guess I should choose safety over my pride, but I might wait until tomorrow to decide.
My dad works at Starbucks. He looks uber-debonair in his green apron. His Monday makes my backed up kitchen sink look like, well, something better than what you are about to read.
A funny thing happened at Starbucks this morning. Two armed gunmen came in the store just as we opened the door for business and held us up at gunpoint. Now that's what I call a Monday! I, of course, being a peon was of no use to them, so my partner had to deal with their demands and she did a great job of complying with their wishes. I was directed into the back room and told to lie on the floor whereupon the one guy zip-tied my hands behind my back and shortly thereafter my partner was done with the money thing and joined me for a round of floor watching. After they left I was able to slip out of the zip ties and free her. I hugged her for a minute and when she calmed down a little, I went and locked the front door and she called 911. The County Sheriff's Dept. was there within minutes and we got to sit in the back of their oh-so-comfy, hard plastic seats, patrol car for about three freakin' hours. What was so cool was when I turned around and saw the first gunman, this supernatural peace came over me and I was as calm as could be. I tried to treat them as if they were customers and I believe it may go down as one of the most cordial felonies of all time. Here's the really cool part. While they were in robbing the place, some concerned citizen across the street sensed something fishy going on and actually came over and wrote down the make, model, and license plate number of their vehicle. When he or she (at this point I don't know who it is) saw all the law enforcement vehicles with lights flashing, he/she must have come over and given them the info, and the two (and I say this with all due respects) thugs were apprehended within the hour. How cool is that? My partner and I had to stay until around 1:30, answering all manner of questions, debriefing, free lunch on our district manager, filling out forms, trauma counseling, free lunch, phone calls with Starbucks mucky mucks, and did I mention free lunch? Anyway, I arrived home safely and journeyed down the street to tell my dad about the events of the day. I wanted to see if his foot care session at Health Partners was as harrowing as my armed robbery session at Starbucks. On the bright side, it's one more thing I can cross off my bucket list: "Be victim of armed robbery." Gives me renewed hope of pursuing my dream of going fly fishing with Sasquatch.
Who knew making a mocha could be life threatening? I'm thankful for his peace in the midst of masked gunmen and for his safety. (Among many other things I am thankful for when it come to my dad.)
I am in no advertising classes this semester, and seeing as the Super Bowl was yesterday, I am missing out on the opportunity to participate in the veritable onslaught of reviews that will be taking place in classes all over the Jesse H. Jones Communication Center today. So the readers of girlfriday get to indulge me.
First off, I actually watched the game, and understood most of it. Sure, there are still some basic football concepts that I don't get. I don't know any positions, except for quarterback. I don't get what penalties are given when a flag is thrown. Is yardage lost? I don't know. Someone should explain this to me. I'm sure my brother and dad have, and probably on more than one occasion. It's kind of like learning a new language. It's gonna take me about 20 times to hear it before it finally sinks in.
I'll speak more of the game later, like how I'm totally on the "the Patriots are a team full of horses' asses, led by a coach who is the biggest one of all" bandwagon. And how it was one of the most exciting football games I've ever watched. I'm a sucker for a good underdog story (see UT at the 2006 Rose Bowl and Boise State at the 2007 Fiesta Bowl. And every sports movie ever).
Of course the ad I was most interested in seeing was played during the pre-game, which I am just not a die-hard enough fan to dedicate those four hours of my time to learning about all the hardships each team has had to endure over the past season, just to see the ads. And I, unlike the announcers themselves, do not particularly enjoy the sound of their voices. The ad I missed is for Pepsi, and is totally silent, done all in ASL, captioned for the hearing world. A nice twist, if not a bit contrived. Is Pepsi just trying to convince us they're a benevolent corporation? Are they sucking up to the Deaf community? Either way, the ad is worth watching. What's cool about it is that it uses a popular joke within Deaf culture. Check it out here:
Overall I thought ad agencies were trying harder with their spots this year. The past two years have been so disappointing, I went into last night's extravaganza expecting the same. I was pleasantly surprised. Here are my top three:
1) Pepsi/Justin Timberlake. This one wins by default, because it has JT in it. I am also a sucker for cute, skinny boys. And it was funny, which was no surprise. If you've never seen the two SNL eps that he hosted, find them online and watch them, he actually has great comedic timing.
2) Careerbuilder.com/"Follow Your Heart." This one was so shockingly gory, I paid attention. Then to juxtapose that heart bursting from a woman's chest with the cliché line, "Follow your heart" was hilarious. I noticed it and I remembered the company, what more can you ask for from an ad?
3) Tide-to-go/"Silence the stain." Clever.
Other notable moments (for better or worse): FedEx, with the birds as mail carriers. It evoked Harry Potter in me for some reason. RIP, Hedwig; Budweiser Clydesdale with the dog - this is old, right? I don't get that. Just make a new ad for crying out loud. Yeah, it's cute. But I've seen it. Give me something new, Budweiser. Same goes to you, Jack in the Box; That Planters commercial with the uni-brow girl who rubs peanuts all over her and that's why guys are attracted to her? Yeah, that was just weird; I'll chuckle at pretty much anything that includes Charles Barkley, and that ad was definitely not "turrible." Of course I don't think I'm their demographic for these ads, because I actually recognize "Chuck," not D-Wade; Local Fox News spot, something about "ditching" those 8 tracks and embracing new technology. Ah, yes, all those damn 8 tracks I have lying around, I've been meaning to get rid of them and buy a cassette player. Seriously, Fox; New Will Ferrel movie? Yeah, I'll probably see that. But the Bud Light ad with his character in it was funnier than the actual trailer; Salesgenie.com and their panda bears with horrible, fake Chinese accents. I don't even know where to start or go with that one; Bridgestone Tires....the guy should've run over Richard Simmons; talking baby for E*Trade. I don't need to see a baby spit up on television, I get enough of that in my reality. Gross; Sunsilk with their Shakira and their Madonna. Are they trying to convince they're cool and young and hip? I'm not buying it. You're a shampoo for crying out loud; Carville and Frist, best friends because of Coca Cola. Ok, I laughed a bit. It's hard not to like Carville, ass that he is; Adam Sandler movie. May not be horrible; Oy, "The Moment of Truth." If I haven't complained to you about what a ridiculous and horrible idea I think this show is, then we probably haven't talked in awhile.
So the Giants pulled it off. Upset the mighty Patriots. Such a beautiful thing. One of the most enjoyable Super Bowls in years, that's for sure. Having some concept of what was taking place on the field helped, too.
I don't know if I should be admitting this in the written form, but I might be starting to agree with my sister-in-law. I just might be a fan of the Manning brothers.
