On the Library

After years, and seemingly endless years, the Cheboygan Public Library completed its renovation and expansion from a 7,000 sq. ft. facility to a 27,000 sq. ft. facility and held its grand opening on Saturday. Mom has been the president of the library board for much of the endeavor, and it culminated into a phenomenal event… and a great accomplishment.

All the hard work; the decisions; the debating... not to mention the fundraising. It was a phenomenal moment to be proud of mom!! And the city of Cheboygan now has a terrific facility that will help advance the education and resources available to a community that has seen a tremendous amount of depreciation.

Nutrigens

On the drive back from the Kid Rock show, I asked dad to talk to me to keep me awake the last 20 minutes of the ride. He began to explain to me, in his own brand of convoluted logic, that I needed to be taking 3-4 prenatal vitamins. They have a bottle of prenatal vitamins due to the large concentration of certain vitamins contained within. Dad felt that I needed to take them due to the fine “nutrigens” they contain. These nutrigens, it seems, would allow me to become pregnant—and dad would like to be a grandfather. I argued, futilely, that prenatal vitamins would not make me pregnant. At least it kept me awake.

Wondering what the hell “nutrigens” are? Dad likes to combine certain words, and in this instance, the best mom and I could determine: nutrients and estrogen.

And now, you know.

My Name Is.....

Apparently, Kid Rock. Don’t get me wrong, the show was phenomenal. Kid Rock is one of the better performers I’ve seen. He is entertaining, high-energy and wears really awesome shoes. But what got to me after a while was the constant “My name is…” routine. Once was novel, the second time seemed much, but in the moment, forgivable. By the time the flashing Kid Rock lights were raised and the audience was instructed to have women yell “Kid” and the men “Rock, Rock” I was all kidded out.

There were pyrotechnics, strippers and some of the best Kid has to offer—including an incredible version of ZZ Top’s ::Tush:: and two Bob Seger covers during the encore. Admittedly, I find much of Kid Rock’s lyrics to be more appealing to the younger male mentality that he represents… especially his earlier work. The last album had more growth on several tracks, but didn’t completely abandon the juvenile that has made him.

Still, I know there is something wrong with me when I have to wonder, aloud, where the stripper got her underwear because I thought they were really cute.

The venue, however, left much to be desired.

Jake’s Insane Little Squirrel and his Pipe Cleaner Haven

After a very long time in the car, and four kitties cooped up in the apartment, I let them on the patio, and Jake out on the golf course. He’s usually pretty good and sits on the edge of the patio—just watching. But as I was putting various items away, I notice Jake creeping slowly toward a bird. The bird happened to be near a group of golfers, so I decided it was time to retrieve him and bring him back inside. As I approached the kitty flattened to the ground, tail thumping in anticipation of the pounce that was to never happen, I was hit in the head with a pinecone. I looked up to see the Insane Little Squirrel (ILS) that has lived in the tree for the last year throwing pinecones and chirping incessantly at an oblivious Jake. I scooped up Jake and brought him inside. The ILS was squawking and chirping for another 20 minutes, all the while, Jake cleaned himself and went to sleep.

This ILS has been squawking and chirping incessantly at the kitties on the patio for a year, at no time have my cats ever done anything but looked at it as if it were completely crazy and ignored it. And perhaps, that it is the problem; it doesn’t want to be ignored, it wants to be chased by wild jungle beasts.

Jakey, however, was not to be deterred. He has a penchant for pipe cleaners and I give him a new one every week to play with. He found the bag and now there are about 50 pipe cleaners scattered around the apartment. In fact, I awoke with a pipe cleaner in my bed this morning. Jake saw nothing wrong with it at all, and did not understand the reaction of the groggy, sleeping person who mistook it for a spider.

I decided to let him have the pipe cleaners after a failed attempt to pick them all up. He is enjoying himself far too much, and is currently exhausted and sleeping on my feet from the sheer joy and exhilaration of running through the apartment for 20 minutes with an orange pipe cleaner in his mouth.

The other kitties, they have their amusements as well… just none as exuberant as Jake these days.

Coming Soon

Coming soon: Nutrigens, Kid Rock, Libraries, Insane squirrels....

Stay tuned.

UnderCover - What?

Two and a half hours of moving furniture, cleaning and packing tonight, and still no closer to being able to sleep. I'll get there, even if it means better living through pharmeceuticals.

While I'm here today, I want to mention that a month ago, I threw a bachelorette party and as part of the party, we had an UnderCoverWear party. The company sells lingere, spa items and adult novelties. Anyone interested in this type of party I recommend that you go with another company.

UnderCoverWear is pricey for the quality and has limited choices. In addition, I found the service from their reps disgustingly poor.

First of all, those who want the privacy of ordering adult novelties and their lingere, don't get it with UnderCoverWear. All orders were shipped to me as the hostess and I was responsible for delivery -- which makes me wonder why on earth we were all charged $5 shipping per order placed. Especially when the consultant KNEW that the women at the party I didn't know well. It is ridiculous!

Second, as I was responsible for distributing the orders, anyone who placed had a copy of their order left with me. However, those that paid with credit card had their credit card number on the invoices left with me. Again, some of the people at the party had just met me, they were lucky that I am honest and took care of the forms and made certain they were all returned.

If that was not enough, the consultant did not provide good communication before the party; in fact the consultant was switched on me and no one had bothered to tell me. I had to find out when I called to confirm the party since no one else had. The consultant was not helpful in placing the final order and I had to redo it a few times as she was not able to answer basic questions about placing a hostess order. It isn't surprising, really, as this was the same person who thought I should email her my credit card number... after all, she has a hotmail account!

So, now most everyone has their order delivered... and an item needs to be exchanged for a different size. There is, of course, no indication in the paperwork on how to make an exchange other than the consultant will be happy to assist. Oh yeah? The response I recieved from the consultant was how to take care of it myself. Yeah, after paying for shipping and dealing with hassle, I know have to send the item back at my own expense? I will, since I held the party, but I will never do business with this company again. And I encourage everyone else to do the same.

I have a lot of these kinds of parties at my home... they are convenient and provide a nice opportunity for busy friends to get together. I've even been a consultant for Pure Romance (which when the UnderCoverWear woman found out, spent 20 minutes on a hard sell to get me to sign up under her rather than listen to what I needed at the party itself--hence she was surprised to find out when she got here it was a bachelorette party). This experience has left a very bad taste and I will be sending my letter of complaint to the company. They may splash Rachel Ray all over their site, but they truly suck.

And on that note, have a great evening.

Making Something from Nothing

In the current issue of Rolling Stone, Bob Dylan calls modern music "atrocious" but like so many things in the media, it is being taken slightly out of context and much like the industry that Dylan does criticize, the media is taking nothing and making a lot of noise.

Dylan isn't just critical of his colleagues and others in the industry, he is critical of his own work. It isn't the first time he's said these things about the music industry--he has always, when he has talked to the media, indicated his displeasure with recording. And, he has a point. By the time the music is packaged and prepared for consumers, it just doesn't sound very good.

Case in point, Tom Petty just released Highway Companion. As much as I love this new release, I can't help but thinking--I bet this is better live. The studio has detracted from the music. The polish and shine of the CDs don't hold the same allure of previous. Albums were stratchy, but they had a certain quality that has been long ago lost.

I think this is the point that Dylan was trying to make, but as has been his relationship with the media, it has been stretched, extracted and used to try to make a bigger deal out of the words.

And on that note, good night.

Bad day

And Daniel Powter can go fuck himself, this isn't about him.

I only have a few minutes, but can I just say that YAY to Paramount for axing the Cruise factor.

Also, 37 pages of common sense masked as "research" is just plain disgusting and the five **geniuses** that collaborated to make my afternoon hell should be ashamed of themselves.

Ok, I'll be back.

Closer to Vexed

Perhaps love is the process of my leading you gently back to yourself.
- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I subscribe to quotes that are sent daily to me from ThinkExist.com. As many of you may, or may not, be aware, I am a quote junkie. The above quote was the one from yesterday, and really, rather vexing.

On recommendation, I watched the movie Closer over the weekend. I found it very troubling and it kept me awake for hours afterward thinking about it. I found it to be on par with other movies that have that affect on me, like 21 Grams, Traffic, and Monsters Ball. There are few movies that I can't shake once the credits roll. Sure, I can discuss them like any rationale being, but they don't have a lasting affect. I still cannot think about 21 Grams without seeing the three main characters coming together in that hotel room--it was explosive and still evokes a lot of emotion. Traffic still leaves me with the drug addled daughter pimping herself for drugs and the cop sitting at the baseball field. Monsters Ball is all about the scrubbing of blood. And, then, there is Closer... the image of Natalie Portman walking down the street in New York has been haunting me.

None of these scenes are independent, but they bring the whole context of the movie full circle to me... they are pivotal moments that illicit emotion in me still. Like reading Breaskfast at Tiffiany's after having fallen in love with the movie only to learn the tragedy of the book is staggering compared to the "happy" ending of the movie.

But, Closer--I know it is an older movie, no longer on the new release shelf, but J recommended I watch it immediately upon our conversation about people who make deliberate choices in life that perpetuates unhappiness. The movie is a fine example of that very thing.

Which leads me back to the quote I started this entry with... it ties in nicely with the concepts of the movie. And a lot of my own thoughts lately. As someone who has struggled with the concept of love I find it an interesting idea that its process can be about finding oneself, or allowing another to help you find yourself. I know I have found that in my own struggle, I have come somewhat full circle and have had to reconsider who I am and who I thought I was and what I thought I wanted. That process has left me more contented and more dissheveled--all at the same time--than ever before in my life.

And from the moment,
there came a calm
a gentle ebbing
rhythm
known to all
and yet to none.

Mahalo

The gospel according to...

I damn near forgot about this article I found last week citing music choices to HIV infection rates--which shooly contradicts the theory that hip hop music leads to promiscuity. Well, either that or teens having sex as a result of hip hop are using more protection than those boys hooked on gospel, pop and techno... yeah, you read that right--GOSPEL... the good lord seems to drive boys to have sex. Who knew?

Back to White

It may have been mentioned previously, but I'm moving at the end of September to a new place. I'm excited, but have a lot of work to do in moving. One item is to repaint the walls I painted in my current place back to white. I started this task this weekend and have to say, the living room, in total white, it totally depressing. I don't even want to go back home and face it. The bedroom is next, and I will commence that project labor day weekend.

In the process of painting and cleaning this weekend, I was packing up the vinyl albums and saw that I have Johnny Cash at Folsum Prison. It was my grandfathers and I spent five minutes reading the cover and thinking about him. Thinking about the ways in which people change as they get older and wondering if he had lived, would he have changed or would our differences been a compromise we achieved in our relationship? It's a struggle I have been having whenever I try to write about him lately. You learn, as a writer, to write what you know, I don't know him. I've recently come to the conclusion that it should not matter--I'm writing what I do know about him and about me, and in the end, that will have to do the concept justice.

What that has to do with painting? Putting things back to white? So much more than this entry can explain... but perhaps the next story I write will.

Cardio track

My last post reminded me that a couple people have asked about the workout music after my last few posts on the topic. So direct from the iTunes of Nikki, I give you the "Pleasure" mix:

Holding Out for a Hero by Bonnie Tyler
Lady Marmalade by Christina Aguilera, Lil' Kim, Mya & Pink
Fins by Jimmy Buffett
Everybody Got Their Something by Nikka Costa
Mountains by Prince & the Revolution
Girls and Boys by Prince & the Revolution
Hips Don't Lie by Shakira & Wyclef
Control Myself by LL Cool J & Jennifer Lopez
Wait a Minute by The Pussycat Dolls
Hung Up by Madonna
Barbie Girl by Aqua
Maniac by Michael Sembello
She Bangs by Ricky Martin
Twist Of Fate by Olivia Newton-John
Beep by The Pussycat Dolls
I Don't Need a Man by The Pussycat Dolls
Flashdance by Irene Cara

And there you have it. Of course, it will change, but for those who wanted to know.

Getting a workout

When I first saw that "Painting" as a household activity was listed under cardio on SparkPeople, I laughed and added it as I was doing some painting in my living room. Let's just say there is a good reason it is listed as a potential cardio activity. I've burned hundred of calories this weekend painting two walls, and I am not done.

It got me to thinking, there are other things that I wished could count toward caloric burn for the amount of energy they expend:

**Pointless banter at social events with people you could careless that you are engaged in "conversation."**

**Family events; and not necessarily ones own**

**Shoe Shopping**

**Not severely maiming the annoying couple at the table next to you in the coffee house**

**Shaving and/or waxing of body hair**

I'm sure there are more, I know there are, but these were on my mind this morning as my hand started to cramp from the roller and I was dotted in white paint.

Snakes

Seems David took some pity on me and graced me with a phone call last night from Sam Jackson… who, from the sounds of it, is rather impassioned about Snakes on a Plane. Nonetheless, it was a hysterical ending to a overall lousy day.

80s Queens Still Rule

And, no, I don't mean Boy George.

As I mentioned in an ealier post this past weekend, I was amazed by the power of Irene Cara as I pushed through on the elliptical. Seems today faced me with more challenges, and as is my coping mechanism, I threw myself into the elliptical, upping the odds. I upped the level and the time... 1 hour of pure something. But it was not the Jimmy Buffett or the Prince that got me through this round--it was Madonna and Olivia Newton John.

The women of the 80s rule.

SK sent me an article about a month ago that I wish I could find again but essentially talked about the author seeing a Madonna show and was it too late? Are we too late to see Madonna--is she too late? Madonna may well be sick of her self, it might show through from time to time, but the answer to that question, as I beg my friends to go see Dylan with me this fall, is no. While we can never recapture what we might have been at that time, we can remember and enjoy the moment now for what it is--and that is whatever we want it to be.

And that, is all I have to offer after an hour of medatative thinking on the elliptical tonight. I'm going to go paint now.

Mahalo.

Bullets over the Rose Garden

To me, it always makes the most sense that when gunshots are fired at or near the White House, one finds the nearest NBA player and arrests him.

Actually, when shots are fired at the White House, I would think the first line would be to check and see if Dubya is still alive and then arrest the idiot for poor aim. Hence Lonny Baxter is no longer playing for the NBA... with a less than stellar field goal average, he was on his way to play in Europe, though now I suspect he'll be the star of his cell block. Innocent until proven guilty unless the media finds you first.

Rumble on the golf course

Oh yeah baby, there was almost a throw down on the golf course tonight. I tell you, those golfers can get waaay outta hand. It all started when someone began screaming: "What the hell is your fucking problem? What are you stupid?" and so on and so forth along those lines until the intended recipient realized that this guy was screaming at him.

It seems, on a golf course, there are rules as to where you can and cannot drive you little cart-y thing. I have lived on this golf course for nearly 3 years, and in this time, I have seen those carts driven everywhere imaginable (including nearly into my apartment) and no one has gone spastically insane until today.

The dude being hollered at just shrugged and yelled, that he was sorry he didn't know. But apparently, that was not going to be good enough for the spatically insane man shouting profanities across the green. Because, while it is in poor ettiquette to drive your cart-y thing near the green, it is PERFECTLY acceptable to shout such things as *fuck* *asshole* and *shithead* as loudly as possible.

I imagine that it is likely poor ettiquitte to allow my cat to piss in the sand trap too; but he's a cat, there's sand, to him the game is burying.

Pouting Now

So, I'm clicking through to check in on some friends and I get to David's Blog and am quite surprised to see reference to myself and something about a snakes on a plane thing I referenced probably ages ago. But what really upsets me is that David seems to be getting calls now from Samuel Jackson... and that just isn't fair. I'm far cuter and really more of Sam Jackson's type. I hate to have to remind David that he is after all taken, and he can just slip Sam my number, that'd be great. Afterall, Sam has certain connections and I'd really like to talk to him about some of his colleagues.

All silliness aside, I wonder if it is possible to successfully flirt someone else's phone number from the recipient of said flirtation? Did they cover this on Seinfeld? Sex and the City? Is there a replay I can go to, because I think this might be a handy skill to employ--especially given the advent of the Charisma School. No surprise that came out of Ann Arbor, but given this is the pit of the dating world, I don't think it will help anyone.

5 minute headlines

I've been avoiding the news lately, and with good reason, it is ridiculous. Breaking news on CNN.com is that a judge has ruled that flooding is not covered in a hurricane policy. Yeah, cause hurricanes never bring flooding to coastal regions.

The other top stories being touted:

U.S.-bound Cubans sent to Gitmo
**And they thought their Cuba was bad...**

Home delivery drug gang busted
**Why do I hear about the good stuff once it has ended?**

Sex ring employed 240 call girls, cops say
**Can we really trust the police? And what's a little more explotation for the purposes of glamourizing the news?**

Ethnic makeover explodes across U.S.
**WHAT THE FUCK?**

Feds back off cell phone terror charges
**This was laughable at best to begin with, see yesterday's entry**

Why the gay rumors dog Oprah and Superman
**Oh, I know, I know!! Because they are ambiguously gay!**

German authorities watching Madonna
**Because they need a chance and a prayer?**

Girly Britney rips manly belch on home video
**I have always known she was a man. Pregnant my ass!**

So there you go, all you ever wanted to know without actually reading the inane stories behind them all.

Just when... celeb trash

You know just about the time you see something on E! touting how grand and wonderous a celeb relationship is, you know is about time for splitsville. Kate Hudson and her singer husband are headed for divorce. If I were a celeb I would dread that show about how peachy everything is.

A little experience

So, as many of my friends already know and several of my family, back in December I filled out the paperwork to become a Big through Big Brothers Big Sisters, and after several months of waiting, I was assigned a little last week. We met, made it official and today was my first official "outting" with my new little sister. She's very sweet and a little shy -- but I think we are getting passed all that. I've been very nervous about the experience, but all in all, today was quite a lot of fun.

Quiet round these here parts

Yeah, Ive been quiet lately. Sick actually. Seems I have a bit of an allergy to wasabi--which is sad, I do love wasabi, except that it did try to kill me over the weekend. Ahhh, another love-hate relationship. You'd think I wouldn't be surprised.

Not much to say lately, too many ridiculous news items--such as the one coming out of near my hometown where officials stopped a few men with about a thousand cell phones who they believed were on their way to take out the Mackinaw Bridge. Yeah, um, they were gonna ring it to pieces... see they had hoped that the simultaneous ringing would cause severe reverbrations and just cause the bridge to implode on itself... either that, or they were reselling the phones for profit, which the FBI deems just as suspcious. Hell, I've been up there--good luck getting a fucking signal!!

And that, folks, is all I have tonight.

Mahalo.

A bit of Raoul Duke...

Today I woke before my alarm clock, which is not entirely unusual, but what is unusual is that I got up. I did. I got up, poured the cat some kibble and me some coffee and cereal and well, did something else highly unusual for me--ate breakfast at home on a weekday.

The times are omnious folks.

When I arrived at work, I had the opportunity to chat with Leah for a brief moment. She was in the realms of the Flying Spaghetti Monster--it is understandable; I know where she works. I, however, quickly realized my mission was not unlike that of Mr. Duke. And then the thought crept into my being:

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.

It is a frame of mind; a way of thinking; owning the moment and saying fuck to anything that deserves to have fuck said to it. It is about savage and fearful thought juxtaposed with surreal and calm demeanor. Don't believe me? Read on:

We are radpily approaching the end of the world as we know it. Every minute, every second kills what we already knew. There are wars with no reason, death with no justification, natural disasters ravishing the land... if I believed in god and the bible, I'd say we were on the verge of apolocypse. Fuck it, let the Rapture come and swipe all the bastards looking forward to it; I could use the peace, but it won't be that simple. There will be more turmoil and strife.

I once wrote an analysis that the only fair way to handle the gay marriage situation was to make all marriage illegal and leave it to the churches to bless spiritual unions as they saw fit. Remove the legal contract for all if it really is about morality... I have to say, my gay professor with a life partner who went through years of constructing legalities for his relationship, did not agree with my opinion of the solution. I told him he wasn't much of a visionary. He gave me an A. But that isn't the point. Normally, I would never say let's leave something up to the religions, but in essence, we have. The US can claim democracy all it wants, but the war is Iraq and Afganistan (remember that country? It isn't all peaceful and lollipops) is not about democracy. It is why we will never win--it is about freedom for the people there to be able to have a religious based government in direct opposition to the interests of the United States. We don't want to give them a democracy, we want to give them our government in the guise of a democracy... and why not, clearly we are successful.

Whoa! Did I just say the US was a successful government? You betcha!! Our government has succeeded in defeating its own people by way of inforced poverty and using healthcare warfare on its own people. Imagine you were an alien looking in and seeing a government deny basic healthcare to its citizens to maintain a certain level of authority and control? Imagine a government that allows poverty of such depths that it causes people to kill each other? Imagine a government with the resources to feed other countries but allows children in its own country to starve? You don't really have to imagine hard because our own government does this.

Didn't we show the lines of people standing in line in the former communist block waiting for their food to be doled out and decried it as savage? Folks, what do you think food stamps are? How about Katrina? We rushed more support to help tsunami victims faster than we helped those in our own backyard--and then denied them proper medical care when we refused to allow Cuban doctors to come into the country to assist with the damage. Kanye was right, but he was beat in the media as being racist himself for stating that the government didn't act out of prejudices and racism. Yeah, he called the Prez a racist... I'd call him a helluva lot more.

Tell me that it isn't relevant amymore because it is in the past, but our past is closer to our future than you might expect--that is how it happens at the end of the line. We are dangerously close to crossing a line that once the threshold is broken, we can never go back again. Be prepared to live your lives in a way that you never imagined.

No point in mentioning those bats... the poor bastard will see them soon enough.

And that folks, is all for me for tonight.

Flashdance

Tuesday night I was busy on the elliptical, 30 or 40 minutes into my workout, heading for the brink where you see that big old bar coming up and you wonder just how you are going to get the intensity up for another 2-3 minutes working at peak performance. You know you will do it, but you have no idea how or where the endurance will come from... and then it happens. Flashdance.

Yep, just when you think you can't go on, Irene Cara slips into the iPod and I don't really know what happens, but you start thinking about the context of the song, the lyrics, experiences, and suddenly, you are throuh the hardest part of the workout and feel incredible. She's right "what a feeling."

It is one of those moments that make you reflect back on all the obstacles, all the accomplishments, all the failures and you think--I did that. I made it through all that. Why the fuck would I even begin to worry about 2 minutes at high intensity when I survived all that; when day to day life requires us to have far more stamina and endurance than any fitness machine I can conceive.

True, there was a time when 10 mintues on an elliptical would have been my near death, but then, we don't take a challenge either physical or emotional that we can't handle. The first time I ever got on the elliptical machine, I had no idea what I would be capable of, but I knew if I didn't try for at least 45 minutes, I wasn't giving myself credit. I did 45 that first time, too, by the way, and I do that almost everytime, I just up the intensity every week. And isn't that what we do in life, too?

Irony?

I read an article today about some German scientists who are developing the first anti-stupidity pill.

In the next moment, I read a quote from Dubya in the NYTimes:

“Our desire for the Cuban people is to be able to choose their own form of government,” Mr. Bush said. He added: “Cuba has the possibility of transforming itself from a tyrannical situation to a different type of society. The Cuban people ought to decide.”

I think it is too late for a pill.

Retired

Tonight, I officially retired the Saucony's. They had hundreds of miles on them and it was a sad occassion. I'm sure I will love my new Addidas--eventually, after all, they are grey and pink. But right now, I will miss the old shoes--they carry many memories.

Remember when?

In a weekend where the words "vintage" and "nostolgia" continued to leap in front of me at every turn, it seems only appropriate that those concepts continue to creep into my existence on Monday.

It isn't a bad thing, per se, but it is interesting. SK forwarded me a snippet of an article today citing playlists on iPods as the contributing factor to an increase in teen sexual activity. Yes, they are linking sexually explicit songs with a rise in teen sex (pun intended). Next week, as we gear back up for back to school, we can forget about the iTunes dilemma and get back to focussing on the REAL cause, which is of course, sex education classes in school.

Remember when Frank Sinatra was a scathing and immoral influence on the youth of America? How about the Big Bopper, with his incomprehensibly suggestive lyrics? I think Elvis was singlehandedly responsible for an entire generation of rampant sex. And, of course, we all know that the Rolling Stones were nothing but a bed of recorded sex... Ok, so maybe the Stones are still a bad influence on the youth of America, but I don't think they are getting a lot of iPod play these days with the under 17 crowd--I could be wrong though.

Remember when Kiss had an Army and were rebels and sex symbols? This was before they launched a protest over exclusion from the industry's Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (are they supposed to care?) and before Gene Simmons joined the ranks of Ozzy with a reality TV series. Yep, Gene and Ozzy at one time were the epitome of all that was wrong and evil with the youth of America and now, now they are family entertainment. They are a joke, claims that they were responsible for teen suicides and violence have long since been forgotten.

Music and violence--that's next, by the way. Once we have teen sex back to the schools (where it CLEARLY belongs), we will again look to the music industry as the cop-out fault of all the violence in this country. Really, that is as is should be. All it will take is one shooting that is unexplainable and people will rush to the last song playing before all hell broke loose.

That's right... remember when Marilyn Manson was relevant and the central responsible factor for violence in certain schools? Remember when police being shot at NEVER happened until Ice T rapped about it? Remember when we cast the blame on inner-city shootings back on Eminem and Dr Dre? Obviously, they are harmless now. Ice T even plays a softie cop on TV now and well, how can you blame the 8 Mile lil Rabbit seeing everything he went through? So all is forgiven.

Which brings me full circle through this land of memories and nostolgia--and on the look out for the "REAL" culprits, which obviously must include the Pussycat Dolls--cause we have never seen sexy women dance and sing at the same time while dressed scantily clad. This revolution will ignite hundreds, thousands even, of Hanes in a thrust of teenaged angst of which we have not ever seen the likes. Thar she blows!

On that scary visual, I leave you with this thought: When did accountibility become such a vintage notion?

Vintage

Today, I was in a mood to get rid of things. My desk, some clothes--just time to clean things out in prep for moving. Lots of little weird things I came across, laughed for a few minutes, let nostolgia pass and then packed it or tossed it out. Now, I'm set in, watching Law and Order: Criminal Intent and getting ready to paint my toenails. Seems like no matter how much I get done in a day, there are 10 times more things left undone. I don't want my summer to be gone in a flurry, but I am looking forward to the move... And now, to sign off, a snippet of a song that has been playing in my head for hours:

I spent a year in the mouth of a whale
With a flame and a book of signs.
You'll never know how hard I've failed
Trying to make up for lost time.
~Riverwide, Sheryl Crow

Mahalo

Back to normal?

I'm starting to feel back to normal, whatever that may be. I got up, had breakfast, screamed at the Comcast reps before canceling my internet service with them, bashed my head into a cabinet door leaving bruised nose (if anyone asks, I won, okay?), then I dealt with some other crap I've been dealing with all week... and finally, I hopped on the elliptical for 45 minutes, went home, took a shower, headed over to the roller rink and bladed. Then, I went shoe shopping.

Sadly, I was unable to locate the silver and red addidas I had been eyeing lately. So I took a spin down the strappy sandal and clearance aisles... nothing was all that fabulous that I held my breath in anticipation of the price tag to see if it were affordable. Sad.

So, not to be discouraged, I know I've been needing to retire my current Saucony's. It is a sad thing... I trained in them all last summer, did the 60 mile 3Day in them and have strapped them on nearly everyday to walk, elliptical, bike in. They are still in good shape considering the miles on them, but they are getting quite worn. So, I tried on new Saucony's and new Addidas corss trainers. I had a hard time finding my fit. Oh, the shoes did fit great and were comfortable, but there was not a fit. Now, I could take the easy way out and suggest that my lack of shoe acquisition today was the product of my nose feeling like it was going to explode everytime I bent over to put a new pair of shoes on my feet... Or, I could chalk it up to a sudden desire to eat dinner... but the heart of the matter (and that's the goal lately, right?) is that while my love of shoes hasn't faded at all, my demand for things to be a personality fir for me has grown significantly. I need to feel it, and I didn't.

Maybe, just maybe, as I embarking on some new outlooks and goals, my shoe outlook is changing too. But like Wonder Woman and her collection of tiaras, there will always be shoes.

Can Castro Still Win? Or will I sudden disasppear to Gitmo?

It has been a long time since Castro swept into power in Cuba... but his ideology hasn't really changed. Today, perhaps in light of his recent intestinal surgery that has put him temporarily out of power, news is highlighting the Cuban committment to providing medical services to impoverished countries and those plagued with disaster. Indeed, Castro offered up 1500 docs to the US after Katrina; which were not so politely declined. Because after all, we had a GREAT handle on Katrina and helping the people affected by that disaster... that's right, we would rather let our own people DIE than to accept help from a country we don't agree with ideologically. After all, communist Cuba isn't as amenable to us as communist China... And then there is the fact that we don't help the poor in this country.

Castro may have used guerilla warfare to gain power; he may have used a few unethical techiniques to maintain the status quo; but he is no less corrupt than any other politician any country has ever seen in power. He knows he's corrupt; I don't think he would ever truly deny it, but unlike certain leaders currently in power in certain democratic countries, Castro has maintained a vision of helping people. You may not like how it is he achieves it. You don't have to; but what you should see--what even the arrogant bastards in Washington should see, is that despite a difference in method and delivery, the end result is good. Which is more than I can say for the US government right now. We have opted to ignore the war at home, on our own soil, in lieu of contaminating the lives of others in the battle for a washed up junkie to be able to claim some ill-guided legacy.

I have not begun to say enough.

Ink and the Amish

Sometimes, you don't have to look further than your own family tree to find ridiculous news in the world... dad called his brother to tell him of his tattoo and his brother in turn told him on an Amish flea market in Ohio he stumbled across last week. They have big plans for an excursion. I'm just guessing it was Indiana and it was Shipshewana. Ay!

But, the folks got inked yesterday, dad with his first and mom with her second. Dad now wants another one and said that he and I were going to have to go soon. Of course, he hasn't gotten to the scabby and itchy part of thr process--I'm not sure how well he will handle that part. I guess I will find out soon.

New Music Thursday

SK brought me new music today in response to my entry yesterday... and dumbass me left it sitting on my desk at work. But, coincidently, I was in the process of making her a disc last night as well, 'cept that I had packed away my blank CDs. I found them this evening. My packing project is well planned, except for when I pack something I never intended to. I need to pay attention, otherwise, this is going to be a LONG two months.

Shoes make the world go 'round

Every so often, I am rewarded for actually getting my mail. Now, for those unaware, I've actually had the post office stop delivery twice in the last year because of "box full." Yeah, they will stop (hint hint) and they will not redeliver until you go to them... mostly, there is nothing I truly need or even want in my mail on any given day and I continue to get it most every day just to avoid the hassle of going to the post office. But today, I saw it--a diamond amidst the sheafs of useless flyers and solicting for funds for the Detroit Symphony Orchestra and postcards announcing the opening of new OBGYN office right in my neighborhood (Mr. Rogers got nothing on me): sealed in a silver, sparkly envelope was my PRIZE; a $25 certificate from DSW.

It made my day. In a day filled with other people whining and demanding my attention in 40 different directions, in a day where I was excited I was finally getting a Little from BB/BS after 8 months only to have the appointment canceled, in a day where I only got to eat my lunch between meetings while shuffling through client records, in a day where I whined to no one and found the positive in it all, I was duly rewarded with my shiny lil' certificate.

Now, it is true that I've had to spend a certain amount in said shoe store for them to send me this, BUT it's like a little dividend--at least, I'm no finance geek, but I think that is the correct term. To quote my fictious heroine, Carrie Bradshaw: "I like my money where I can see it: hanging in my closet!"

So, what I'm thinking this means, is that those fabulous Calvin Klein shoes I resisted **COULD** be mine this weekend. Or, something else equally fabulous--it's hard to know for certain. The only thing with any certainty I know is that I will be shoe shopping and I will be securing a new pair of shoes on said trip.

Brit's baby woes

**Sniff** Britney's having a difficult pregnancy. *Sniff**

I find the thoughts of her spawning again difficult in general. But then no one really asked me... and come to think of it--no one really asked Brit either.

Someone is certainly pulling her 15 like taffy. Oh god... a comeback? I feel my dinner coming back up.

Die... again?

Hasn't Bruce Willis done enough? I mean, he's supported an idiot regime and spread his politicking all over the place... and now... Die Hard 4. Bruce, baby, stop. Just. Stop.

talkin bout a revolution

And I don't mean Puerto Rico.

I just spent 30 minutes browsing in iTunes--looking for something new, something to revive me 20 minutes into a 50 minute workout, or something even to just make the drive a little less mundane. Sadly, most of the newly released stuff is generally mundane.

I downloaded the new Bob Seger song--it's mediocre, as is the new Sammy Hagar... Tom Petty's new disc is good, but I don't fall into a Tom Petty mood very often and he certainly doesn't belong on an elliptcal; perhaps a bike, but we'll see. Petty is generally good road trip music and this album doesn't disappoint there, it makes me want to hop in my car and drive hwy 61 all the way down to the crossroads in the middle of nowhere.

I contemplated the new Talib Kweli single, but the sample didn't seem like it was very strong. I will probably end up downloading it and being mildly disappointed when I do.

And on that flat note, good night.

One more time...

Everywhere I turn, someone is bitching about the heat... these are the same people that bitch about the cold in the winter. Quite honestly, I'm sick of hearing about it. It's true, the heat doesn't really bother me and AC mostly just pisses me off, but then again, I try to not bitch a lot in the winter either when I can't get warm.

And then there is Cuba. Times are interesting everywhere.

The Capt and I... signing off.