Happy Halloween

It's here... Happy Halloween!! I leave you with this thought for the day:

Charlie Brown: When are you going to stop believing in something that isn't true?
Linus: When YOU stop believing in that fat guy in a red suit and the white beard who goes, "Ho, ho, ho!"

Happy Trick-r-Treating!!

Sweet Sundays

Very sweet, to be precise... I picked up my little, we made cupcakes--there was much frosting. We also carved a pumpkin, made birthday cards, did activities in a Bratz book and watched The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. It was exhausting. So I came home and went for a walk. It was a beautiful day--cold, but the sun was shining and I did a brief couple miles.

Last night, a friend and I went out dancing. It wasn't quite as fun as I had hoped. Halloween weekend and the club was incredibly crowded and after a while, I got very tired of getting shoved around. Retrospectively, I would have preferred a nice cocktail in a queit bar with good conversation. I will have to remember that for the next time I'm desperate to go out. Though next weekend, mom is coming and we are going to a Dylan show, then shopping and whatever else that comes up. Looking forward to it.

And now, it's about time for a snack and some more water while I read and watch some tv.

The Jaketh Returns

Jake has been found, hiding under a patio, just a few feet away from the door... I suspect he's been there the whole time. I had looked under there but it was too hard to see under. Finally, he came close enough to the edge to be seen and rescued. He is happy; I am happy.

Jake Gone Missing

It should have occurred to me at 6:30 when the cats paraded in to wake me and I got up to feed them, only to discover there was food in the dishes, that they were not waking me to tell me they were hungry, but that Jake had topped his best escape artist performance to date. It should have, I noticed in my haze of exhaustion that the living room was a tad colder than it should have been, but I chalked it up to my nekkid-ness and crawled back into bed.

Two hours later, when I realized I hadn't seen Jake in a while--and that is quite unlike him, and I was now dressed, did I notice that the balcony door was open nuch wider than I had left it and there was an awful lot of fur stuck to it. Jake was gone.

Actually, Jake is still gone at this point. I imagine, if he knows where it is he lives since the move, he will come back around the time it is getting dark. I've spent hours walking around calling him throughout the day. At one point it was pouring rain and blowing wind so hard, it was all I could do to get home, I knew he wasn't coming out of hiding. Took a long time to get warm, and I'm still a little chilled.

Meanwhile, Calvin is bringing in a nice collection of leaves he's been catching all day on the balcony. He looks for Jake and then brings in a leave and goes back out. I'm still not sure why, but they are his catches, I suppose.

As for me, I'm headed out for the evening later, and hope Jake shows before I leave. I'm hoping once I get in the shower I will finally get warm. It's a nice idea.

Bettering the Best, Campaign Slogans and other Random Thoughts on A TGIF

After last evenings post about focusing on the numbers and bettering my best, I went in to my workout with the idea that I would just try to improve my overall time on the 3 miles by 30 seconds. But, apparently, my competitive nature wondered if I could get a mile in at 7… and for those of you wondering, I did not, but did come in at 7 minutes, 9.5 seconds. Overall, I shaved 2 whole minutes off the 3 miles, coming in at 22 minutes 30 seconds. Tomorrow, perhaps I will just increase the level—though after the “Kilimanjaro” program, I’m not sure level makes any difference as it kicks up the intensity quite high at the apex.

The good thing is that any sleepiness I was experiencing earlier has just been replaced by a huge endorphin rush. Though, quite honestly, I hope I can stay awake when my company arrives later this evening. It would not be the first time I’ve napped on visiting guests, though. Well, not literally on top of them, but once the TV or a movie is on, Govnah-licious tends to nod off.

So, SK came in to work today and brought me a very nice card and book, which I’m looking forward to reading this weekend. It is the Birchbark House by Louise Erdrich. It is a children’s book, or rather, young adult, but after considering a revisit to Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary earlier this week, that is probably a good thing… actually, I’m very excited to read it… and once I have, will provide a review. In the meantime, SK has provided the following campaign slogan: Govnah of the Guvmint, bitches!” That is sure to win over those last few undecideds.

And since I promised random thoughts (yeah, like I haven’t provided one yet?!): Michael J Fox should not even acknowledge the sputterings of a junkie airhead with a rather perplexing agenda. It isn’t worth his time and I can’t think of one person that is of rational thought that even gives two fucks about what Rush has to say.

Random though 2: If the near drowning of people is considered non-torturous methods of interrogation and keeping the country safe, then I’ll live my life in risk, thank you very much. It didn’t make anyone safer in the Salem Trials, Cheney was there, he should remember.

That’s it folks, have a great Friday night.

Shooting things

As your candidate for Gov-nah, I should have been aware of a prop 3 which would prohibit the shooting of doves. I know this is not going to be a popular stance I'm about to take, but my candidacy is not about doing the popular, or politically correct thing.

I mean, let's look at the numbers!!

I say allow people who want to shoot doves that right.
The number who want to shoot doves are small in nature.
A good number of them don't probably own a gun.
Just a mnay probably wouldn't know what a freaking dove looked like if they saw one.
Those that do own a gun are probably a lousy aim.

And it's only fair that I stand for the right to be able to shoot a dove, should one really want to, otherwise it might seem a little hypocritical when I propose my prop that would allow me to shoot a golfer, should the need arise. Now, just because I don't live on a golf course any longer does not negate the necessity of this critical legislation.

A numbers game

While on the cross trainer tonight, I was reminded that the first thing that drew my attention to basketball were the numbers. At one time, I knew all the stats. Watching the games live was great, but I missed the numbers. All this and it is still a numbers game...

...how many calories can I burn in X amount of time?
...can I make the 8 minute mile?
...how far can I push it?

Well, I did make my 8 minute mile... 7 minutes 50 seconds actually. Instead of relishing in the success of meeting that goal, I immediately wondered how to better my best. Could I do 7 minutes? Same with the treadmill... at a 15% incline, I wondered how much more I could do if the machine let me... how many caloried could I burn? Could I speed up the mph and still maintain the intensity?

At 700 calories in 60 minutes, I should have felt good, efficient, something more than the desire to wonder how much further I could go. Or maybe not... I dunno.

More on Weight Loss Surgery...

To a certain extent, I think obesity is like a cancer; and once you have overcome it, you live your life in fear that it will return one day despite all your best efforts. Once you overcome it; are in “remission” the emotional side effects are very difficult to process and quite unexpected. At least, that is my perception; my experience.

There is a mentality that exists in that because you are obese, you believe you don’t deserve certain things. When the weight goes away, those feelings of insecurity and self-loathing aren’t also lost. Nothing upset me more than people who assumed because I “looked good” that I was now happy. And part of that was my own foolish thinking. I had been happy, but once the weight started coming off, I became very unhappy. Didn’t think that I deserved things in life because I had surgery to help me lose weight; somehow convinced myself I wasn’t strong enough to do it on my own.

The common misperception driven in part by the media representation, and in part by the uneducated, is that those having bariatric surgery are “taking the easy way out.” At one point, I believed that for myself, too. I found myself believing that I had somehow failed. Depression after surgery is common and mine manifested itself in the way it always has—failure. Along the way, you question if you are losing enough weight; convince yourself that even though you have had this surgery and are losing weight that you are still failing, you aren’t doing as good as someone else—someone you may not even know. You are convinced that even with this surgery you will still fail.

As a failure, you are relying on your insecurities. It’s a dark place to exist within. Getting up everyday, forcing yourself to look in a mirror and see someone you like is a difficult thing to do. Being a size 8 now, it is still hard to look in the mirror and not see the size 28 I once was; that fat girl sometimes still appears. Sometimes, she manifests herself as hideous ugliness—you hate your hair, your nose, your eyes, your lips—even when you don’t see fat, the mirror distorts and you feel like you are looking in one of the funky mirrors in an amusement park; but it isn’t amusing and you are in your bathroom. These days make it easy to think you don’t deserve your life; you don’t deserve to be loved.

But the truth is that the surgery is not easy.

Pretend for a moment that there is not the emotional insecurity, the anger, the failure, the depression associated with the surgery; it should be easy to do, since it’s not headline gripping… the surgery itself is difficult, the recovery can be hard, clothing becomes difficult. In addition, the reality is that it is easy to fail with the surgery. Weight loss only happens for 12-18 months following the surgery as a result of the surgery itself. Without changes eating habits, regular exercise and commitment to a new lifestyle, weight will be regained. Research shows that a certain percentage of people will regain up to half the weight loss following surgery within a certain amount of time. Those who had highest weights before surgery are those most likely to regain following surgery.

For me, I have made a lot of very conscious choices about how I eat, what I eat, when and exercise. I did not experience weight gain as many others I’ve met had before they started making changes. I was able to easily maintain my weight with just watching what I ate and making decent choices. But I realized it wasn’t enough. I wanted to lose more weight, and I wanted to know that my choices were healthier.

It is very easy, I’ve learned, to not know when to stop losing weight. To never think you are thin enough; because the mirror is deceptive. After surgery, you learn there are friends you cannot trust—jealousness and pettiness take over and their insecurities about their own weight gets reflected onto you. Of my friends before surgery, there are only a very few that I would say I have maintained friendship with. Some are still acquaintances, others simply had to go. It’s harsh, but when I finally started to feel good about where I was, finally started to lose some of the insecurity, started building some self-confidence, these were the people that started to step in and tell me that it was time to stop losing weight because I would be smaller than them, and they didn’t think that was right.

The people, who would never say anything to me when I was obese, had no problem commenting when I was just overweight. Unfortunately, these are the people you believed you could rely on for support; friends and family who probably think they are being helpful, but the reality is, they are more hurtful than they realize.

Several friends have expressed their surprise that I was struggling with some of the issues as a result of having surgery. The comments that I was so private about the decision, wouldn’t talk about it, have a tendency to be aloof, not let people in… they are right. And, in my challenge to actually talk about the process, deal with the residual anger and struggles associated with self-image, I’ve challenged them to ask their questions. To learn about it and recognize that these issues can happen to anyone who struggles with weight-related issues. I’ve said I will take any questions, though some I may not answer right away, or may decline to answer at all (with a reason).

I maybe have learned that I should have allowed those closest to me in more while I lived it, but the reality is, I still live it everyday. A wise sage once said, “Maybe we need to let go of who we were to become who we will be” (Sex and the City). But part of that is recognizing who we were because it is part of who we become.

Thanks

Thanks everyone for the very nice emails, comments and phone calls from the last post. I've been doing some more writing on the topic, and perhaps I will post some of that up here later this week... And yes, I did reach my goal on Friday morning--and opened the package. The shoes are fabulous.

Just taking a break from my weekend to check in here while downloading a few Fergie songs to inspire the workout this week... I'm very close to that the 8 minute mile on the cross trainer and I think a lil London Bridges will help. Maybe, maybe not. But, Fergie was featured on the October issue of Shape Magazine, and I finally finished reading the entire article (I figured it was time since I've had the November issue for a week or so now).

Time to wrap up here for the day and put the laptop away... I have some cooking to get to, some cleaning and I actually rented some movies this weekend. I watched Basic Instinct II this morning, because a Sunday morning is appropriate for a movie laden with sex, violence and mind games. Actually, I found it enjoyable. The first is one of my all time favorite movies, and I could appreciate the second. Next up, Friends with Money... I've been wanting to see it for sometime, and since the Jennifer Aniston movie I wanted to rent (The Break Up) was out, this got my vote.

Mahalo.

Facing the Challenge

In May, I decided it was time to lose the 20 pounds that I had been saying for a year I was going to lose. Having maintained my weight for some time, it hadn’t really occurred to me to really try and lose; I was content where I had been. After all, I had already dropped over 200 pounds—I wanted a break.

Maybe it was because of an overwhelming and complete sadness around that time that I started working out at about twice my usual rate, but then I really got into it. I started enjoying it and met some really great people along the way.

It was about that time that I also decided that I would share my personal story about struggling with weight and my decision to have bariatric surgery. Over the years, I had shared it privately, but this was a professional decision. As a result, the company I work for is introducing to market a program for those who are contemplating bariatric surgery. There will be a press release coming out this week—I’ll link it when it drops. As part of this process, I’ve worked on how the program will look, proposals for interested clients and training for those administering the program. For the last month, I’ve worked on writing the “Patient’s Perspective” and recounting all the feelings and thoughts that happen going through the decision process. It was difficult… as someone who writes all the time, I had never written about the surgery, the reasons, the emotions—I barely speak about it, writing was incredibly difficult. Next month, I speak in a professional training with 7-8 people whom I work with about my experiences—and I’m very nervous, but in a good way.

And there is a point… when the sadness hit, and I started thinking about the surgery, what I had went through and where I was, it became increasingly important to me to lose the 20 pounds and get to the first goal I had truly set for myself. About the time I started writing the “Patient Perspective” I was 8 pounds from my goal. I determined it was time to set a reward. About that time, I saw a pair of patent red leather, peep toe shoes. I decided that before I bought another pair of shoes, I would reach goal, and these would be the shoes. A week ago, I realized the shoes were selling out in every store. After a few days of panic, I found a pair and ordered them. Tonight, they arrived.

My shoes are sitting on the table in front of me, still in the shipping packaging and I am less than one pound from my goal. I will not open the package until I weigh in and have reached goal. There is no close enough anymore.

Now, the question has come up—what will you do now that you have the shoes and are at your goal? My answer is to set a new goal. A friend emailed me, concerned that I would take it too far, not know when to stop, never think I was thin enough… She has a valid concern. I’m not objective in looking in the mirror; I’m judgmental of the scale; and I’m completely addicted to my work out… recently, I gave up a shopping trip to pay for my workout facility membership dues. If you know me, you know 6 months ago, I would never have done such a thing.

There are new challenges in front of me as I move forward. They will be difficult. Last week I caught myself thinking about how the only thing in my life I could control were the amount of calories I eat… I walk down the snack food aisles, the cookie aisles, the candy aisles, and read the labels, leaving empty handed. I do it every trip to the store. I am aware that it can become part of a bigger problem. It is part of the reason I’m sharing this… I am admitting that while there is not a problem right now, I have to be aware of the signs. I have also learned that sometimes, simply sharing the story can be cathartic and a surprising process. I am grateful for the opportunity… so I leave you with the following, which I excluded from the training piece I wrote:

Deciding to have bariatric surgery is one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. It may seem like a dramatic statement, especially in view of all the decisions people have to make in their lifetime; but it has been over four years since I had the surgery and more than six years of my life and I still stand by that assertion. I don’t know many who have shared the experience who would argue with me. On July 23, 2002, I underwent an open RNY. Even during the process, I had a hard time admitting how difficult the process or surgery was for me. I returned to work, against all advice, after two weeks; I was not going to let this surgery deter me from any part of my normal life.

It is four years later, and I am now trying to figure out what normal life means. Maybe it is a function of being in one’s twenties that makes us think we know everything… but if I’m being honest, it is the mentality over living life with obesity. As an obese person, I didn’t want to be seen as different, outside the realms of convention anymore as my size made me already. As a result, I pushed myself—in some ways it was good, it meant I was able to walk 8 miles with relatively little pain (while most my size were not able to walk even a mile), but in other ways, it was unhealthy—returning to work while I still had staples shining down my abdomen and not able to eat solid food.

But, in four years, I have learned a lot about who my friends truly are, who I can depend on, and more about who I am and where my determination comes from than I had ever imagined. I had never thought the surgery would change my life, up until a year ago, I as reluctant to even admit that it did outside the physical health factors. But one of the things I’ve learned, because I have the people around me now to help me see that, is that my life has changed and by sharing the story, I have been able to help many others. It was one thing I had not ever expected. And I’m okay with that.

The Joke's Over

Several of you I've spoken with over the past few weeks have laughed a little (or a lot) over my announcement to be a write-in candidate for Michigan governor; but it's not a joke. If nothing else, I want 100 people--a very miniscule percentage--of people to commit to my campaign... a campaign of change; a campaign that says we will not sit by and let our choices be narrowed by the ones with the most money; a campaign that shows those in power that they really are at our whim, not the other way around.

It is not meant to be naive, I understand precisely what I'm saying. I'm ready, have been for as long as I can remember, to stand up and say: Fuck you. My grandfather used to say intelligent people will find a way to get their meaning across without using profanity... I agree, but I also think there is a time and a place for it--which I profoundly believe is part of what gramps meant, and thusly, I use some profanity, because there is no way around it in these troubling, loathesome times.

In this time of my campaign, I've been consulting my "advisor" the late Hunter Thompson and recently re-read the following in Hey Rube, which was also posted up to his wife's Owl Farm Blog last week:

"Anybody who thinks that "it doesn't matter who's President" has never been Drafted and sent off to fight and die in a vicious, stupid War on the other side of the World--or been beaten and gassed by police for trespassing on public property--or been hounded by the IRS for purely political reasons--or locked up in the Cook County Jail with a broken nose and no phone access and twelve perverts wanting to stomp your ass in the shower. That is when it matters who is President or Governor or Police Chief. That is when you will wish you had voted.

And there it is. Check Anita Thompson for more Hunter Wisdom, there is much more with the elections coming up.

And while I recognize I will not be taking over Lansing next term, I am taking seriously what these elections mean. I hope you are, too.

Starting a Monday Off Right

Sometimes, you know it will be a good day when you open up your Google page to see the quote of the day comes from Hunter Thompson. Just makes me smile:

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

How’s that for a Monday?

What happened to the ::Secret:: part?

SK pointed me in the direction of this little bit of news... along with a few comments that I shall not repeat here. For those not interested in reading the full story, I recap the highlights...

*14 year old girl puts up a picture on her myspace of Bush with the words "Kill Bush" over his face in protest to the war in Iraq.
*14 year old girl discovers this is considered a threat and removes picture.
*Some time later, 14 year old girl is pulled from class and threatened and belittled by the Secret Service--without the counsel of her parents, etc.

So what I'm reading into this is 14 year olds are more of a major threat on MySpace that I originally thought and that the Secret Service is apparently above the law. Meanwhile, serious atrocities are being committed by our sovereign leader and his court of jesters and if anyone, including terrifyingly evil 14 year olds, has an opinion to the contrary, the Secret Service will come down on you like vultures on a pile of shit.

Thank goddess that we are protected in this country against real worries by the Secret Service like naive 14 year olds and terrorist plots of men who can't even afford a pair of tennis shoes... I've been wondering who that guy in dark sunglasses haning out in my living room talking into his shoulder was as I made my plot to visit DC.

Do you feel safer now?

Campaign Propaganda

Here is it... the first campaign flyer... enjoy!!

Technical Difficulties

Sorry, I didn't get that flyer up last night, I was experiencing technical difficulties. I will ensure that it is available tonight, though.

Many people are now trying to slip me a 5 for their particular issue--folks, some issues are more expensive... NOT that I'm taking any bribes, mind you. I just want to make all of you aware that certain issues have higher price tags.

More to follow...

Campaign Hitches

So, here I am today, vigilantly trying to do the right thing by my supporters (and to assuage my father’s fears that he will not get into trouble by writing me in on November 7) and get the paperwork filled out declaring myself as a viable write in candidate for office and it is all very suspicious how many little challenges that are put up…

Example 1: the form is very simple; so simple in fact that it tells you when it has to be received by, but not where it needs to be received. That is located in a different (and not intuitively named) document elsewhere on the State website.

Example 2: the form requires it be notarized—which makes perfect sense. As I personally do not know a notary public, nor do my friends after a quick survey, I Googled and was directed to the State Website, which lo and behold as a “Notary Public Search”… with the following notation: “> PLEASE NOTE: This site does not provide information for locating a notary public to notarize documents.” Very convenient.

For anyone requiring this service, it seems your local UPS Store often has Notary Publics on staff.

But, somewhere, someone at the Federal level was thinking… we now have a Wonder Woman stamp. I will be using one of those to mail this damn form in… I think I will need her powers to get it through to the PO BOX I have to send it into. That, is not promising…

The great debate

For the most part, I ignored the Gubernatorial Debate--they don't want me there and I don't have the time to waste listening to their insane rhetoric. I caught the last 5 minutes or so, I was surprised not by what was coming out of Jennifer Granholm, but by how fast. I think she sold me a used car from an off shore internet company, but I can't be sure.

Things are not stalling though; the flyers are almost done... I will unleash upon the world tomorrow. I also downloaded the form I need to fill out to notify the State that I will in fact be a viable write in candidate. I'm thinking I should send it certified mail--I suspect it might otherwise be "lost."

For those who have mentioned the concern that this race will distract from a potential 2008 Presidential run... remember, I'm not old enough yet. But remember me in 2012... I'll be ready!

On that note, good night.

Real Campaign Issues

As your candidate for Michigan governor, I’ve been brutally pummeled with questions about where I stand on the issues.

**Columbus Day has to go. We have far too many holidays celebrating idiots in this nation, and this will be the first to go. Columbus did not discover this nation; he wasn’t even the first “explorer” to land here. Columbus thought he was in India, and instead of exploiting and pillaging the land of Asia, he helped to enslave and exploit the native peoples here. He set the standard for what was to come—I guess that is why today’s government wants to celebrate him. But not under my watch.

**I will not be in the debate tomorrow. They will not let me. Apparently, I don’t have enough money, voter share or “official” paperwork submitted. Bastards and their rules.

**Snacks. People need snacks. I will propose a healthy snack initiative that will ensure all offices have access to snacks during the day. There will be no running out of granola bars when I’m in office.

**Yesterday, in my announcement, I mentioned that we would make the State of Michigan website easier to navigate and function. Taking that one step further today in that if you are a state employee, your name, phone number and email will be published in a directory so that people can reach you directly in the event that they need assistance. Customer service will prevail in the state. AND the Secretary of State’s office will come into this century and start taking debit cards.

I’m going to have to ask a few of you to stop bringing up the Puerto Rick Jankation Plan for the next 30 days or so… that is the kind of political nightmare Granholm and DeVoss will use against me and I don’t have the proper time to explain the Plan in language that will not come back to bite me in the ass on this. Once the election is over, we can talk Puerto Rico—I think my governorship will make the whole thing much, much easier, too, by the way. After all, I think I can sell people here on the plan; they have their own arsenals and Michigan gets pretty fucking cold in the winter… I’m just sayin’ let’s hold on that until November 8.

Ok, now, all that said, or in this case, written, I need to find myself a Wonder Woman costume—not necessarily for this campaign, but if times get desperate, I’m not opposed to that tactic, but mainly because I need one, and Halloween is a great excuse… and, I need a logo of some kind… perhaps some flyers… it’s time to get out the vote.

What would Hunter do?

In speaking with several people recently given the current political climate in the state of Michigan and the upcoming election choices, or lack thereof, I have decided to run for governor this year as a write in candidate. It seems the only right thing to do in the face of hopeless incompetence this November.

So, I hereby officially announce that I will solicit, pay for and otherwise entrust your right to vote to my candidacy for Michigan governor this November. Since Michigan foolishly does not yet recognize a Freak Power ticket and I have not filled out all the paperwork, you will have to write me in this November. Fortunately, I have a very easy name to spell…

Why, you wonder, might I be qualified to be your governor? It’s a fair question. The answer is that by any conventional political sensibility, I’m grossly incompetent and unqualified… however, that has not stopped Jennifer Granholm or Dick DeVoss. Nor has it really ever stopped any candidate for governor before them.

What I do bring is an innate knowledge that the politicking in this State to date has brought upon us a terrible structure. Much like a company whose management has lost connection with its employees, market and own structure, Michigan needs some serious revamping and repositioning. There is no current accountability, and I, I am wiling to take the blame for my mistakes and work to correct them, and the ones made before me… just like most of us do everyday in real life.

If you want a real awakening as to the state of the State of Michigan, try navigating their website. That will be the first line of business—make the government accessible by the people. There is no need to hide information. I won’t threaten you that allowing trash from Canada poses a terrorism threat… I say do away with all trash from Canada, and the first line of business with respect to that would be barring Celine Dion. Seems only right. Oh, but we will take their drugs… our seniors need them, they can’t afford them here. Medicare Part D. Fuck it, I’m opening the borders.

So, folks, there it is… my “OFFICIAL” announcement. It’s time to get out the vote.

Headlines

Sometimes, you don't need more than the headlines to tell a story. Take these for instance:

**Half American's admit to re-gifting**
Quarter American's don't do this, neither do Whole American's??

**Drivers think of sex rather than signals**
Uhhh, DUH? Unless, of course, you are the person behind the idiot distracting you from your thoughts of sex because s/he can't focus long enough to signal their turn. But then, maybe they wanted to be hit in the ass?

**Do big breasts lead to paradise?**
How the fuck would I know???

Now, these were just written, but I heard a news tidbit on the radio (yes, you are all in trouble, my transmitter for my iPod has died... I have another media outlet currently). This radio news guy said that the Iraqi al Queda leader was suspected dead and they were awaiting DNA results. Which leads me to a seemingly obvious question--do we have DNA to compare this to, and where did we get it? But this question was not even mentioned. Everything so matter of fact--yep, waiting on DNA results.

My head may implode before I get a new transmitter... why just Tuesday I was screaming at the radio announcer in the car who commented that the Democrats welcomed a debate on national security. Of course they do, they are very accomodating, in fact, the debate would not really be a debate as much as it would be not so polite agreement between two parties that seemingly disagree on very fundamental issues. This is why we miss Bill Clinton. He is a genius of rhetoric and you have no idea who is agreeing or disagreeing with, but when all is said and done, he wins and you don't know why, but you know the other person was very, very wrong. Sadly, this happened even as he asked for a definition of the word "is." Perhaps rhetorical genius is strong...

Mahalo.

Expiration Dating and Ambivalence

There is a creeping feeling I cannot shake. Sometimes it is hard to determine if the feeling is my own perceptions being projected back on myself, or if it is truly a premonition that I need to prepare myself for. In any event, does it matter? The feelings are real and whether or not they are some kind of masochistic dilemma or cosmic warning is completely irrelevant. But it got me to thinking after I read a Grrl Genius blog today and took an iVilliage test to determine my “perfect match” personality… am I expiration dating?

Grrl Genius explored the concept that certain men have expiration dates. Women in their thirties seeking relationships have a lot of baggage and we are looking for the “Unicorn Man,” which she defines as the older guy, with little baggage who is still emotionally available and willing to commit. Mostly, she wondered if men reached an age that they were single, never married, not kids, etc, etc… have they reached their expiration date already and would never last in a relationship.

It has been my experience of late, that some men expire in their 30s, or even younger. Grrl Genius is being rather kind in setting the age at around 45. Because much like the cottage cheese I bought a week ago, the date said October 19, but the taste said 3 days ago. And that is how life goes sometimes. If that wasn’t enough, I did partake of the little personality test that after a mere 25-30 questions about your past and present relationship with your parents and your past relationships, it can tell you a wealth of information about who may match you best mate-wise. It seems, perhaps appropriately so, that I am an ambivalent. What this means, apparently, is that I am somewhere between a loner and a clinger. Now, loner and clinger are my own interpretations of their words, mainly because I can’t recall off hand their special words. Whatever.

So, given these little gems of wisdom and thought for the day, I wonder, somewhat aloud, can an ambivalent in her 30s can stop looking in the expired dating pool?

And that creeping, sinking feeling I mentioned earlier… can an ambivalent in her 30s refrain from greeting her ghosts of expired men?

As I was waking up this morning, a line from a recent Sex and the City that I watched kept coming back to me… “what are we doing?” Carrie asked Big (who is married at this point) as she sat on the edge of a hotel room bed in the crux of her affair with him. It isn’t the first time Carrie looked at Big and asked that question—it was a theme of their relationship. But this morning, and much of the afternoon, I kept hearing it again and again—What are we doing?

All I can say is… I wish I knew.

Raining, Pouring, Old Man Snoring

The move is over. It rained. Poured. We saved the shoes. All was good.

In fact, I had incredible help from several people… indeed, the move would not have been able to occur with out them—at all.

The kitties, they are finally adjusting and returning to whatever is normal for each of them. They discovered, much to their initial horror that the EMU marching band practices just across the street. That sent them running for cover under the bed for hours.

After some debate, I made my way over to the grocery store tonight, where the power went out. The emergency lights kicked in immediately, I picked up a can of pumpkin and then the power came back on. What is amazing is the amount of sheer and utter panic that ensued from my fellow shoppers. Of course, this minimal outage affected the registers and getting out took longer than desired, which turned out to be okay, I got all caught up on who is too skinny in Hollywood and the potential demise of Oprah’s relationship and the potential marriage of Johnny Depp. I also got to read most of a Vogue. It was a long line.

But, it would be careless for me to conclude this episode without mentioning that George Michael was cited for drug possession—again. You know you are a has-been when even the slum rags don’t report your most infamous arrest in the current story.