Did anyone see The Daily Show last night? I love me some Jon Stewart and that show is among my favorites even though it keeps me up past my bedtime. Well, last night they were talking about Jersey and how the state is looking for a slogan.
One of the local TV stations used to say, this time of year, "Merry Christmas. And Happy Chanukkah to all our Jewish friends."
Gods, I hated that. It's the very epitome of unconscious marginalization. I mean, more than half the people to whom I expressed disgust just didn't get it. "It's nice," they'd say, "It's inclusive." Not so much. The implicit statement is: There's an Us and a Them. Merry Christmas to Us. Happy Chanukah to Those Others.
When they changed the message, maybe ten years ago, I felt vindicated. It proved I wasn't a whacko who was offended for no good reason; someone else saw the problem and made the change.
Holloway Man grabbed me by the waist, pulled me close, kissed me and slid his hands slowly down my skirt until they came to rest on my arse. He squeezed it tightly and I got wet at the prospect of what lay ahead.
Now Micky D's has launched a McRib campaign, the McRib farewell tour. There is a petition you can "sign" online to keep it going. You can send in your McRib pictures and they even have t-shirt decals you can download.Aaaah. The McRib. You either love it or revile it.
This brought a tear to my eye, truly. As a girl who used to make her Barbie clothes out of old socks, I could totally relate.
I happen to [have] good memories of the McRib. It first appeared in 1982 but I don't quite remember when my mom decided she wasn't going to cook anymore and that raising her kids on good, wholesome American fast food was the right thing to do.
I would get the McRib. It came in the Styrofoam packaging that was so popular back then. It wasn't that the McRib was so great that I had to eat it. There was a greater purpose. You see the brown, oval shaped non-recyclable Styrofoam container that housed the McRib also served as a bath tub for my Barbie.
My birds are ill. One of the babies died this morning although only one of them is showing symptoms. I have a feeling they all have a cold, but for Exotic Finches, this can become dangerous very quickly.
I don't have a quarantine cage for them, nor do I have an infrared heat lamp. The only option I have is to place a bare lamp without a shade near the cage, and partially cover the cage with a cover. I can't fully cover the cage because Finches need at least 12 hours of daylight, if they don't have that then they won't get enough to eat and will die anywayz. Not a good idea considering the fact that they're already ill.
Mechanical bulls, evil ministers, and too much alcohol - the perfect combo for trouble! Feeling left put? Just go back and read the first three installments - I promise you'll be up to snuff in no time!
I seated myself, borrowed black hat in place, doubling up on the strap - gripping with my knees like I was back in dressage class. For a split second I considered what might be the better part of valor. This bull riding craze was stupid and dangerous, and I was way too wasted to be participating in any way. Part of me saw myself leave - but that was the floaty me. In reality, I stayed right where I was.
About 2 weeks ago we started having problems with D's AD/HD medication. He wasn't just having trouble sleeping; the poor kid wasn't sleeping, period. He went about 3 days with no sleep and little to eat. Both of these issues are side effects of the meds he was on. Although he has been on these meds successfully since February, he is going through a growth spurt, he is 12 with all of the hormones and other crap happening, and the side effects just stopped being tolerable.
He missed a day of school just so that he could stay home and get some sleep (as soon as I didn't give him his meds he fell asleep and didn't want to wake up for a whole day). We then took him to the doctor and told him what was going on. He immediately gave us a new prescription and told us to start with the new meds that night.
I'm sitting here in my darkened spare bedroom/office. The only light sources in the room are the 60 watt bulb in the desk lamp and my laptop screen.
A minute ago, a tiny moth flew by. It crossed in front of the laptop screen, headed for the lightbulb. I lost track of it as it bobbled over the glass containing the last two inches of my rum and diet coke. It is not currently battering itself against the light or otherwise fluttering around anywhere nearby.
Do I finish the drink?
This song makes my heart stop and my mind go backwards to the past. A place that holds horrors and happiness... The past brought me to my present... I am happy in my present but then... I was once happy in my past.
How does this song make you feel?
I'd love to see a film where everything happens the way things usually happen: searching for a parking spot for about 23 minutes, starting to dance in the street and everybody's crying for help and so on ....
Are women less likely than men to choose an all-in-one gadget?
First things first, thanks to everyone for the sweet words!!! Getting nasty comments really get me down sometimes, especially when their personal attacks. Truly uncalled for, but I can't get rid of it, I think its a template conflict.
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On one last note, I'm allowing comments by anyone again. Unregistered users can use my comments too. I found something called comment moderation, it allows me to say which comments are published and which arent. So, if your comments don't show up right away, it's because I've not published them yet, no worries.
I like cheese.
Expect to hear a lot about how the French riots are a result of their policy of laicite or secularism - refusing to label a French citizen with any other category than "French". There will be many calls to get down to the work of giving everyone a religious or ethnic group tag so that an army of survey takers, equal opportunities trainers, race equality officers and lawyers specialising in discrimination cases can get to work - and get work.
I was headed for the local railway station, walking through the side streets near TaborstraBe, a few blocks north of the canal. The clocks had gone back the previous day, and the temperature had plummeted in correspondance - along with people's mood. Resigned to the fast-approaching winter, the Viennese seemed to be battening down the hatches. Although it wasn't very late, the street were already empty.
A building on the other side of the road caught my eye as I approached it. The windows at street level had dark red curtains and a string of fairy lights. As I looked at them, the drapes twitched and a woman emerged, leaning her body close to the glass. She was a wearing a low-cut dress and the exposed skin of her arms and chest glowed in the soft light.
The Field Poll estimate calls for about 43 percent of the state's 15.8 million registered voters to cast ballots today, not far from the 42 percent turnout predicted by Secretary of State Bruce McPherson.Get out there and make your voice heard. Nix the first six.
"This is not a bad turnout for an election without any names on the ballot,'' said Mark DiCamillo, director of the Field Poll.
That could be bad news for Schwarzenegger and his allies, who had hoped for a low-turnout election in which increased interest among Republicans could offset the Democratic number advantage among California voters.
I sometimes forget that I can be a hack writer when I want to be. I once produced 50 pages in about 12 hours, which, when I break that down, doesn't seem possible. But it got done.
I realized at the Con when VanderMeer asked how many pages I had of God's War that, in fact, I barely had 150.
If it's going to 400 pages and done at the end of the year, this is a problem.
Because my spouse thinks I don't like surprises, I now know that he bought tickets to the Broadway musical "Wicked" for my birthday at the end of this month. He's so funny. The day before he asked what live show I'd like to see downtown and I hadn't looked at the theatre section closely for a while as we had no plans to go--so the first thing that popped into my head was "Wicked" (based on the Wicked Witch of the West's story before she became really wicked).
I think about what would have happened to me had I not had relatively easy access to abortion. I had just moved to a town where there were multiple providers, and the one I chose was practically next door to my apartment. Easy.
But so, so difficult. It wasn't a difficult decision to make, but it was a painful one.
If I had been a bit younger and living in a place with parental notification laws, I would not have told my parents. There is no way. I would have tried to self abort or gotten an illegal abortion.
I'm beginning to think Henry's preschool teacher doesn't like him.
I know what you're thinking. "Someone not like Henry? Impossible! I will hurry to her classroom and beat some sense into her!" And so I am glad I never told you which school he goes to, because I'm beginning to think you're a little nuts. That said, I am also puzzled as to how someone could not like Henry. Yes, he can be... challenging. He knows what he wants, and he's not easily swayed. Sometimes his motives are baffling; there's a lot more going on in his head than he lets on. Also, he can be shy in group situations. I can imagine that when you're faced with eleven children clamoring for your attention, the enigma in the corner might not be your favorite.
But my God, woman! Have you seen his cheeks? Have you ever looked into those blue eyes of his? Have you no soul?
