Obscure references and prostitution

Today found me staring down some old, obscure references that quite honestly, I can't bear alone.

#1: Remember Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan? I don't even know how this one came up, all I know is that after my lunch hike in improper shoes, my knee hurt. Coincidence? I think not!

#2: Miss Cleo. Again, an obscure reference that suddenly appeared in conversation.

So, I brought up Heidi Fleiss... and it seems only appropriate with all the talk about the DC Madam. Ok, no one at work was discussing this; but I'm avidly reading about it. Mostly, because I find it fascinating that it is such a big deal. I have no problem with prostitution... and up until Miz Julia decided to retire and close up shop neither did anyone in DC. The hypocrisy is staggering. I have to say though, that I respect her for not giving up names. And you know the only reason names are wanted is for political positioning as the elections gear up.

My INVISIBLE Electric Blue Car

There was was, speeding by a good 10-15 mph over the speed limit on Carpenter, not a car behind me or in the other lane, when a woman comes flying out of the driveway in front of my car, causing me to slam on the new brakes (and here I was trying to keep them new). And now I understand why Wonder Woman had an invisible jet as opposed to an invisible car. My bad.

I also found an inordinate number of pregnant women waltzing in front of my car at random over by Babys R Us... but that is to be expected, I suppose... and my guess is the "rule" is that if you are that pregnant, you just don't stop. I don't know, I've never been, but I'm thinking that's a pretty safe bet. And really, I'm USUALLY not going 55-60 mph through the parking lot over by the Target... not usually.

Yesterday was the last long training walk... the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer is now just days away. I admit, I'm excited... looking for tent decorations for the Wellness Villiage, getting the last minute supplies, getting my sleeping bag laundered and ready... tonight, I will do a dry run on the gear bag to make sure it doesn't exceed the 30 pound limit and that the bag itself is large enough.

This week for me will focus more on giving my body some rest; shorter walks, strength training and time permiting, playing in my new garden... I also need to get the cats situated and all necessary supplies at hand for SK and Mal--despite SKs threat of refusing the boys treats, I think she will acquiese once a purring sweet faced Calvin or Jakey rub against her.

Despite my excitement about the impending Walk and vacation, I realize all too much that there is just not a lot of time to get all the things that I want done... and if the places I needed to go were open right now, I'd be there instead of here, writing about it. And really, yesterday might have provided more opportunity to get all these things done, except yes, I sat on my patio for 2 hours reading and soaking in too much sun after my training walk.

Vacation is a much needed escape and the first part will find me doing the Walk and visiting friends I have not seen--some for years! And then concluding with hiking in the Catskills and a stop by Niagara Falls on the way home via my Canadian neighbors--providing the US Government will cooperate and get my passport here as they indicated the would several months ago. Don't make me sense a conspiracy!

The time now is upon me to get dressed, get som hula hooping in and get going on some gardening supplies... there is an orientation today, and hopefully a little time for me to work the land--as is said... indeed a full day of excitement ahead.

Terrible disappointment

As I mentioned last night, I have ideas brewing for my next story... and as such, it requires a little research on my part. This morning, I delayed my walk due to weather, and embarked on the said research. Suffice to say I am greatly and terribly disturbed by Time magazines early recant of the Top 25 crimes of the century... which they did not too long ago as an 75th anniversary of the Lindbergh kidnapping.

I'm not disappointed my Time's list so much as I am with the female criminal representation on it. As women, we can certainly do better... OR maybe we do, and we just aren't dumb enough to get caught? But still, women account for less than one-fifth of the top crimes... and even then, Lana Turner/Cheryl Crane, Andrea Yates, Mary Kay Letourneau are all crimes of "victims" that were just sensationalized... Patty Hearst maybe the only one I could garner some respect for, but even her crimes were dubbed as her being a victim of the situation. Where is the female Lucky Luciano? That's what I want to see; shear genius... even the Tate murders give credit to Manson and don't even mention the women that did the actual crimes.

I'm not saying that women should commit more criminal activity or that I justify what Manson did, but I am saying I find it interesting that we haven't seen it. We very much romanitcize these male perpetrators of vicous crime and make the women as victims of another situation that devalues the horrendous nature of what they did. I need to champion someone else other than Martha Stewart or Winona Ryder or Heidi Fleiss... although Heidi was/is a genius female criminal or at least the potential is there... I wonder what she's up to these days?

Hugh Grant gets the beans

Ahhh, the sultry and sexy Englishman is in trouble again... this time it seems Mr. Hugh Grant has gotten himself invovled in a little arrest over an attack with baked beans. It seems baked beans are the weapon of choice these days in fashionable London... and Mr. Grant warded off lurking photographer with a tub of them. No word on the brand, or if Mr. Grant made them himself, or why he was carrying a tub of them at all--perhaps he was on his way to a potluck.

Whadda week!! A migraine down and a week of crazy work... I finished my Friday off with a bout of cardio and strength training and am feeling back to normal! Which is just in time... tomorrow is my last long training walk... this time next week, I'll be in DC--probably having dinner with a friend and getting ready to get up BRIGHT and EARLY on Saturday. And by early, I truly do mean early as in 4 or 430.

I'm also taking on a garden this summer; and for those of you thinking... Did she just say SHE was going to garden. Yes, I did. I realize that is outside the realm you would normally picture me in... and it completely is. I've been asked what I am going to grow and really the only thing I've planned to buy for this garden so far is a hat, some gloves and those cute gardening shoes. If nothing else, I'll be properly accessorized--which is always my key to success in everything. CLEARLY with the right straw hat and shoes, veggies and herbs will grow in abundance. Isn't that how it works? Nonetheless, I'm terrifically excited about the prospects and look forward to my experiment with nature.

This week also found a sad--very sad--realization that Cocoa Krispies make me quite ill. I had blamed the migraine, but migraine-free, Cocoa Krispies make me very ill... bummer.

The highlight of my week, however, is that I have a brilliant new idea for a new story that I've almost worked through in my head to the point that I am ready to write. With any luck, I'm looking at a Pulitzer, but I'd settle for a movie deal.

Trifecta Realized

Last night, SK and Mal were over for dinner and to arrange for cat care while I'm on vacation. I decided I should try the concept arrived at one dreary, rainy day at the office--coco crispies treats with peanut butter... and they were awesome!! The trifecta was complete--chocolate, peanut butter and marshmallows.

World domination is only moments away!

Experiments with Rice Krispies

After serious discussion with SK today, I decided to do a little experiment with some Rice Krispies... in an attempt to avoid the sugar of Coco Krispies, I mixed up some sugar free chocolate soy milk and served up some Rice Krispies. It actually worked, and was quite good... next Coco Krispies Treats with Peanut Butter... the trifecta complete.

In memorium

The news today is that David Halberstam, respected and noted journalist, who was maybe best known for penning "The Best and the Brightest" was killed today in a car accident. He will be missed. Brave journalists are few and far between these days.

I would guess it appropriate to mention that Boris Yeltsin also died today... for those who were surprised that he was still even alive. Though, I have to say, I did appreciate the headline on the Guardian: Man for all seasons: hero, villian, buffoon. Yeah, that says it all even if the article is laced with all the expected commentary by other leaders hailing him as great--even if while alive they would not have dreamt of lending their support.

Airport Entertainment and Getting Home

Well, I made it back from my travels Friday night--very late. But you know the nice thing that NorthWest does for you when they have delayed your flight is entertain you. Yes, the same folks that brought you the mechanics strike, among others, can't seem to get their plane fixed, so they play musical gates. Gate 2 at Reagan National was originally what we were to depart from... and after moving to Gate 5 via the board, we get to Gate 5 only to have the attendant there yell at us that even though the Board said it was our gate we needed to be at 2... meanwhile, over at Gate 2, the attendant is making an overhead announcement that our flight will be departing from Gate 5... now these gates are not more than 50 feet from each other, so the attendants begin to yell across the terminal at each other. Within 1o minutes, we were back at Gate 2... then 5 before we FINALLY departed over an hour later, from gate 3. I feel bad, we never utilized Gate 4. So the flight is delayed though no fault of anyone holding a boarding pass, we've been shuffled from gate to gate for over an hour and the attendant, who decided at some point it made more sense to shout from the door rather than use the speaker, began to tell us that we needed to HURRY UP and board... and that the plane, while still containing enough seat-age, was not as large as the scheduled plane, so if someone is in your seat, take another open one, if your seat no longer exists, just sit someplace and do it QUICKLY. The tone obviously implying this was all our fault.

But here's the thing... once they annouced the Southwest type seating, about 10-15 people within hearing distance shoved forward... I was nearly crushed!! So once on the plane, it became ever apparent that the attendant out in the terminal had not communicated her strategy for boarding and seating with the attendants on the INSIDE of the plane... who wanted all those with no seats (rows 23-26) to just stand in the back of the plane while everyone else boarded. I being in one of those rows, just sat down, as did 2 others and we filled up our row, much to the attendant's dismay... so she ran to the front of the plane in the midst of the meyhem to tell us all how SHE wanted this situation handled. A few seconds later, the original instruction giver appeared and yelled at those standing in the back to just sit somewhere... all in all, very entertaining.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out who the hell the guy in the terminal standing next to me was and chatting me up like he knew me was... I became convinced that I must have gone out with him once or twice... that was until take off... and it became clear that he was my former Master's advisor with whom I couldn't ever get a response or agreement from... And, I would have gone back up after the seatbelt sign had been turned off except I would have had to crawl over the Phelgm Phactory that was sitting next to me and apparently was unaware of the advent of Kleenex. He was lucky I didn't have nail clippers and a file on me--I'd have had to kill him.

Fortunately, my bags were not searched at Reagan... and I only had a 90 year old woman in front of me--FOLDING everything she put into the bin. Yes, she got it all nicely into the bin, and then went through the whole body gloucoma test and magnets, but failed to actually put her bins on the conveyor... It was still early, I had no idea of the delay ahead of me... I was nice and shoved them through while the guy with X-ray vision glared at me suspiciously.

And I made it home without a homocide under my garter. The cats were not amused. They were out of kibble and had destroyed the bag of treats... gutted it like it was a gazelle on the Sahara. I think they wanted me to think that SK had done the damage while she was over on Thursday checking on them... but had she done the said deed, BOTH sides of the bag would not have been torn apart; thereby clearly giving them away.

But the weather has been good and the kitties, while not quite forgiving my absence have had almost 24-hour access to the balcony--even if it was too hot out there today (obviously my fault). Yesterday, I did a 21 mile training walk with a fellow walker who was in town for the weekend. It was good, we finished in 6.5 hours... and I learned a few adjustments will need to be made--I'm not happy about learning this so late in the game, but at least I didn't realize it on the walk.

Speaking of the walk... my 522 mile challenge to train that many miles by May 1 was met on April 18... as of today, I have trained 571 miles. It feels good, even if today was the first day I was sore... like I said, a few adjustments to the new gear are needed!

The threat of face cream and the new airport rules

Yesterday, I had to have my bags searched while at the airport... yes, yes, they are onto me. Seems at 5 something in the morning, I'm not thinking clearly about all the rules... I remembered to not have any water on me, get my laptop out and in its own bin, take my jacket off, take my shoes off, strip down to my underwear--just in case... but it seems I forgot to remove my Ziplock baggie (which I conveniently stored within quick reach, but folks, I hadn't even had coffee yet and it slipped my mind since I had Beavis in front of me. So, after searching my pink backpack for the suspicious items, the woman lectured me about the "rules" and that they have to have that out separately because--and I quote--"We can't tell if the items are in a Ziplock bag or not through x-ray unless you take it out." Whaaaaaa? I'm no security expert, and believe me, neither was this woman donned the official looking rubber gloves, but I've seen how stuff looks through the x-ray machine, and of course, there is my x-ray vision, too... Do they think that I somehow packed all items together like that in the backpack on accident? Could it be I used a brand other than Ziplock? Could it all be a trick and my face cream is really that dangerous in an overhead bin without the steel protection of plastic? Could it be that in a moment of sheer rebellion, I TAPED them all, or GLUED them all together to appear as if I was in compliance with airline regulations? I suppose anything is possible.

Well, ok, I survived and I won't let it happen again tonight, though I'm more sleep deprived than I was yesterday... but I have a few rules of my own for my fellow travelers:

1. Please, don't wear a belt you will have to take off. If you must wear a belt when traveling, there is really no need for one where the buckle doubles as a codpiece... obviously outside of Texas there is never a reason to wear that, but do what you will--just not when you are in front of me on the security conveyor belt.

2. A bottle of water is dangerous, please don't try to "sneak" it in past Checkpoint Charlie. If you are really that thirsty, there is water available on the other side of the post for $4 an ounce.

3. The other end of the conveyor belt is not a dressing room. Just because you had to strip nekkid to make it through does not mean you should stand there, tucking your shirt in and looping your belt through ALL the holes (see #1)... That is what your gate assignment is for... you are there 5 hours early, fix yourself up elsewhere, some of us are barely going to make our flights.

4. Believe it or not, you don't have to be the first one on line for boarding. We have assigned seats and they aren't going to suddenly cut the line off after 3 people and kick the rest of us out. So you see, pushing me out of the way to get in line does not mean that you will make it on the plane and I will not.

5. Panicking when you hear them drilling on the side of the plan just prior to take off will do you no good. Remember, this is NWA and the planes are in constant need of repair... your questioning if the whole plane is intact is ridiculous, clearly isn't not or you wouldn't have gotten that bargain fare... and by the way, that's the luggage compartment you hear them closing just prior to take off, so when landing and you hear them "drilling" again, don't exclaim "Oh my god there's that noise again!"

So there are my rules. Commit them to memory, I don't allow second takes, the first offense renders a pink backpack upside the head.

Happy travels!

Just a thought

Nearly everyday, there is a headline about 30, 40, 50, 169 people killed in another country, namely Iraq (which goes to show that those atrocities in other countries don't even rate a headline), through some kind of bomb... and they are very low profile headlines... nothing that sticks out and tries to grab the attention, tries to elicit sympathies... there aren't pictures of the families mourning or troops securing the area. So while I think that the VA Tech shootings are horrific, I find it appalling that we pay no attention to the same tragedies that are befallen other countries. The situtation might be considered different... a campus isn't a war zone, at least not in a militaristic sense. We are immune to violence, yet enthralled with it and when it happens close to home, to something we can see and understand, it is memorialized. It's just a thought, but one that makes me wonder how we can so apathetically overlook worse atrocities just because the culture is foreign, just because the religion isn't Christian, just because it happens in a place most people can't point to on a map.

Puttin' on the Brakes

On Monday, the day when all bad things in life are credited with happening, I was on my way home from work, innocently tailgating the car in front of me when I applied some pressure to my brakes--only to hear the most gawd-awful sound. Not the usual high pitch noise one hears warning them that it is time to repair the brakes, but a garbled, grating noise that was distinctly the sound of metal and air. I love the elements, but not in this particular situation. It quickly went away and I got home. The next morning, yesterday, as it were, on the way to work, the terrible garbled, grating noise was ever present and not going away. I checked to make sure I wasn't dragging a body--and indeed I was not--it was the brakes.

Now, I don't know a decent place here for car repair... I bought the car brand new and any maintenance was done either under warrenty, at the oil change place, or in my dad's garage 285 miles north of here. So, I called around. I remembered seeing a little local place on the other side of the cult parking lot by where I work. I called and chatted with Walt and took my car over for an estimate.

As promised, Walt looked at the car that very morning and called with the estimate. I said, go ahead--the price was well within the range I expected to have to pay for the service--not inflated or anything of the sort (read: NOT Midas!!). Two hours later, Walt left me a message that my car was ready, I could pick it up anytime before they closed at 5:30.

The service was great. The car is running great. So a shout out to Walt and Select Auto Service (on Platt near Washtenaw) are well-deserved. In a crazy week that has me traveling and running all over, they got me in and out in no time! Now the website listed on the business card doesn't seem to be working... but they do imports and domestics and all major and minor repairs.

Wrong--on two counts

First, I was confidently certain that no one would finish the Boston Marathon yesterday in under 2.5 hours.

Second, given the excessively shitty weather hitting Boston, I was convinced that a Kenyan would not win... not being acclimated to such conditions.

Yeah, I was wrong, so very wrong... Robert Cheruiyot took the top men's honor again (and the overall win), and did so in 2:14:13. Slacker, last year he came in nearly 7 minutes less. Seems my confidence in the top US contender was lacking as she fell out due to the "stomach cramps." My theory laying in shambles alongside Deena Kastor's $100K hopes; giving the women win to Russia.

I suppose, if it were that cold, windy and rainy, one would be incented to move faster to be able to be done. Me? I'll just be watching from Starbucks.

Things that go on behind open blinds

So, all in all, my adventures in hula hooping is going well enough. It's a lot of fun. I created my own iTunes mix of Hoola Hoop music, but it seems to break my blog when I add it... this will mark the second time I've reposted this!

I did notice my neighbors watching the other day as I hula'ed in front of the TV (and the patio door). Not nearly as startling as the revelation this morning that the other neighbor was watching me get dressed. I had forgotten, or just not realized (cared) that the blinds were open in the bedroom window and was surprised to see a neighbor--clearly not laughing--leaned over his balcony to see into my bedroom. At least I can say that I was not doing anything that was considered outside the standards of normalcy and decency by any conventional definition. At least I wasn't nekkid hula'ing... now that would be simply terrifying!! And definately not decent.

Now, whether it is normal or decent to be photographed while hoola'ing in one's SuperGirl jammies is a whole other estimation.

Your News Update

In a moment of feeling guilty for not reading the news in a few days, I hopped on CNN.com--which was my first mistake... I never read the news on CNN; but it happened--perhaps I inhaled too many nail polish fumes today, I dunno.

Seems one of the popular stories on CNN today is Dr Prison Radio. A Prison Coach of sorts to help you if you find yourself on your way to the "Big House" Note to those in Ann Arbor--they are not talking about the Stadium.

Also, Don Ho, who for many years I was convinced was a fictional character, died at the age of 72.

And, finally, before my head imploded, I caught sight of the headline that read Gonzalez better be prepared for some tough questioning... I'm confused, after firing 8 US Attorneys, why would one think it would be followed up with cake and ice cream?

Eh, whatever!

So, this weekend found me wrapping up my vacation plans. Part of my trip will be coming home via Niagara Falls... I haven't been in over 16 years, from what I hear--it's no longer in the same spot. The Travel Channel is showing a program as I type on the Falls... apparently, if I wait long enough, they will be located in Detroit and I won't have to drive very far or have a passport (beacuse only in Canada can you go behind the Falls... they are not as litigious a society apparently though they are very concerned about protecting their borders lately--not that I can blame them).

This Cat's Life

Vinnie looked at me, his eyes big, ears sharp… as if he couldn’t believe I knew his very secret daytime life. And how could I? I was not here during the day.

Late at night, when I can’t sleep for all the lines crossing in my head from the day and previous week passed and those coming up, I make stories up to Vinnie-kitty, who seems attentive enough an audience. His responses are always adequately appropriate… there was the whole Santa Claus fiasco—who knew cats were terrified of Santy Claus. Of course, he’s like a cat burglar in his tactics, so in retrospect, it makes good sense that cats are leery of the big guy. Then, there was the Flying Spaghetti Monster, with whom it turns out cats have a symbiotic love-hate relationship with. Of course, it is not well documented, like most evolutionary theories. Most recently, there was a terrible scare involving the Evil Bunnies that come by each year on the first Sunday following the First Full Moon after the equinox (catholic holiday my ass). Turns out these Evil Bunnies come by and completely terrify all kitties for no good reason… leaving behind eggies of various form and composition. Simply disgusting by all feline account.

But, on this rather chilly, insomniatic evening in May, I uncovered a scathing secret of cat life—they are daytime superheros. It all makes sense, the exhaustion and ravenous appetites they suffer in the evening hours. Mistakenly, I, and others, assumed that cats did nothing but sleep and move about their mousy and SpongeBob toys during the afternoon… but sadly that is only a mere diversion from the real inconvenience they are tagged with—saving the world. It also explains perfectly well why it is I never once caught a glimpse of Mina on Life of Dave’s webcam while they were in Paris.

Now, it is obvious, like most 9 to 5ers, cats take the usual weekend hours off… there are apparent exceptions, like most situations… but for the most part, it seems, this cat’s life is only burdened and inconvenienced with saving the world during work hours. Perhaps dogs cover the non-working hours of cats, which would account for the serious state of affairs these days. As Jake would say, if cats could in fact speak English—it is all simply disgusting… and in much need of being buried, no doubt.

In due time

Here is a lesson in creative writing. First rule: Do not use semicolons. They are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college.
~Kurt Vonnegut

It was high school when I first read Vonnegut, only because he was on the "LIST" in which in order to read for class, you had to have a piece of paper signed indicating that your parents were aware and approved of your reading the book. In this case, it was Slaughterhouse Five. The very fact that Vonnegut was on that list, I came to conclude, was ironic. Indeed, all on that list I ended up reading "unofficially," as my teacher called it (how you unofficially read a book for your own edification, I have no idea still), created some form of that same irony.

One might think that putting a bunch of books on a list that required parental permission would encourage students to read these books... or at least that is the current logic... bring it up, mention it, talk about it, say it isn't allowed and somehow, teenage pregnancy ensues. But that wasn't the case with those in the class of 1993... ambivalence prevailed (as did pregnancy), and I believe it still does among most of whom with I graduated.

I was raised that you read books. I never needed permission to read anything. As such, I adamantly refused to seek written authorization for these listed books. To this day, I still cannot understand why Catcher in the Rye is so controversial and such a point of contention. Perhaps, though, I am the abnormal one... comparatively, it didn't seem nearly as shocking as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which I read for first time around the same time. Profanity, sex and teenage issues are not nearly as shocking when you are 16 as profanity, drugs and the American Dream being lost. (Note: Hunter Thompson was not on any list in high school--I found him via my own "research.")

Still, we lost a true original this week... there aren't many left.

Big Cat Diaries

Delighted that there was something on tonight that didn't involve baseball or Law and Order SVU (sometimes, I just can't handle episodes about child killers and child slavery)... I excitedly turned over to Animal Planet for Big Cat Diaries... relieved that there wasn't something on like Animal Cops... I said, "Calvin, Big Cat Diaries" and he hopped out of his condo bed and onto the chair next to me and Jake. However, Calvin, who I have witnessed actually watch the show, and mimic the cheetahs, seems to only be interested in sleep. He purrs a little and looks at me sleepily as I say, look at the kitties on TV! He is clearly not interested in being a Cheetah or my entertainment tonight. And neither is Jake, who just strolled off, no doubt to drink out of the toliet.

Just another Thursday

So, regarding the suspicious car that is parked in the cult parking lot that my office window overlooks... it was still there all day today. Tomorrow, if it is still there, I will capture a photograph. I still could not get my co-workers to cooperate with the investigation. It's sad. Even the police didn't come back today... but there is movement at the compound... suddenly there were other vehicles coming and going today--I bet it has SOMETHING to do with that car. Yep, must be the case.

In other news, for those of you who drive Intrigues, let me make a point of clarification... it is the name of the car, not what you are supposed to create while changing lanes--MAYBE!! Use a blinker--and that goes for non-Intrigue drivers, too.

And since my road rage is not easily diminished today, let me just say if you drive a F150 (or its non-Ford equivalent), that does mean you have the right of way. I may have a Saturn, but I will take you out. I'm ALMOST up to 20 lbs on one set of reps on that bicep curl machine--I'm a force, baby... a FORCE!

Speaking of a force... can I PLEASE have spring? Dude, I don't care if we bypass spring and go directly into summer, but I may well suffer a nervous breakdown if it snows again before December.

And since I cannot seem to get warm, I now need to go make some chai... decaf, of course.

The Blame Game

So, with over 20 boxes of Cadbury eggs in my freezer, I find myself compelled in the stores to buy more… a weird and sick obsession for which I take no responsibility. Others are obviously to blame… after all; I live in the United States and therefore am free of all accountability generally prescribed such a matter. First, these things are only sold at Easter time… so, clearly we have to place blame with the Christians/Catholics for their insidious coup not only on me for renouncing their faith, but the evident disregard for all their followers giving up sweets for Lent. Secondly, Cadbury is a UK export… so the Brits need to take their hit… which given the number of hits the Brits take these days, doesn’t necessarily seem fair, but what’s one more at this point?

And speaking of blame… could the Ann Arbor Police watch a few episodes of Law and Order already? Geez… here I am sitting at my desk looking out the window when I see the police pull up to investigate a car that has been parked in the lot of the church that my window looks out on. (Yes, I face the church… the irony has not escaped me.) The police officer gets out, walks around the car, looks in a few times before getting back into her car, pulling forward a few feet, stopping, backing up, and reparking. She gets back out, talking on her little do-hickie as they do, and again walks around the driver side only looking inside at the truck. She attempts to open the driver side door; it is locked… she then gets back in her car and takes off… leaving me screaming in my office to check the other door!! Now the car sits out there taunting me all day long. I know there is something in that trunk, a body perhaps? Sadly, my co-worker in the finance area will not go out there and further investigate. I mean, we HAVE rubber gloves in the kitchen there, we are set up for forensic investigations on our lunch break!! There you have it, the rampant crime in Ann Arbor is all to blame on lack of Law and Order training videos… everyone knows that a bullet in the right spot would have revealed the dark secrets of that trunk… and provided me with endless entertainment… instead, they leave me to my imagination… which can be quite sensational.

Immigration Reform: Bush Makes a Talkie

In more fodder for Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, Dubya showed off his recent wares in Yuma, AZ... And I quote from the Washington Post:

"Congress can pass a comprehensive bill and I can sign it into law this year," Bush said, without offering a detailed proposal.

Glad to know that Bush has finally started to understand the process... even if he doesn't really have an idea of what should be proposed and signed into law.

"...family values don't stop at the Rio Grande River..."

Wasn't this the same Administration that wanted to a really long fence around it and the rest of the US-Mexican border? You know, now that you mention it, nothing says family values and welcome, but stay back, like a nice white picket fence... Yowza...

Ever changing forecasts

This morning and into early afternoon, the weather loomed dreary and cold... nothing above 40 all week. By this evening, the weather is now forecast for the end of this week warmer, near 60. It will change again, but it is always peculiar watching things change so drastically in such a short amount of time... much like life generally. Sometimes it seems as if things move so quickly there just isn't the time to notice them... and one day we stop and say how in hell did I get here? And sometimes, we rush through things to enjoy what comes at the end--like to night, I ate my last two strawberries much faster than I really wanted, but there was some cool whip in the bowl, and I wanted to give it to Jakey... the enjoyment watching him have a cool whip treat was worth the forced strawberry consumption. Kitties with cool whip on their whiskers and smiles on their faces sometimes are better than a stomach ache for a few minutes.

Give us your tired, weak... for a fee.

Incredibly, immigration reform has been slow, painful, uneventful, and apparently terribly inconvenient for lawmakers. What's more, reform is coming at a higher price than anyone anticipated.... and another rally to protest the latest in "reform" came this weekend in LA. Seems lawmakers want to assess a $3500 fee for a 3-year guest worker visa... following that visa, the person may return to their home country, apply for citizenship and with the payment of a $10,000 penalty, be considered for citizenship. Which should be no problem for those immigrants with a lot of money, after all, ecomonic hardship isn't one of the main reasons people risk their lives to come to the US illegally (or even legally) to work for inadequate wages.

Well, I'm sure it makes sense to those sitting loftily in Washington, completely unaware of the sweltering crime, poverty and degradation in their own backyards... and as long as their illegal immigrant workers keep quiet, all will be well.

I'm reminded of Hunter Thompson, while not on immigration specifically, I think it speaks to the point:

I’ve never paid much attention to the Black/Jew/WASP problem; it strikes me as a waste of time and energy. My prejudice is pretty general, far too broad and sweeping for any racial limitations. It’s clear to me–and has been since the age of 10 or so–that most people are bastards, thieves and yes–even pigfuckers.

If nothing else, Washington sends a clear signal on the direction of our own caste system.

Swimming in De Nile?

Slovenian swimmer Martin Strel broke his own world record for the fourth time by completing a swim down the Amazon (3272 miles). Strel, who has also taken a joyride down the Mississippi, Danube and Yangzye Rivers previously said that he has not thought ahead to his next swim; but "I am not going to do the Nile. It's long but not challenging enough, it is just a small creek." Yes, that is what I often think, too, when I consider the Nile.

On becoming a hula champ and other Friday endeavors

By this morning, I was up to a full minute on the hula hoop, and by this evening, the skills are coming fast... I'm up to about 2 minutes. I love the challenge of it.

The cats are less afriad of it now, having managed to turn it into some kind of spotlight by which to be admired. All except Vinnie, who eyes it with suspicion, but not as much suspicion he reserves for the ceiling fans. And Bowie, who, as it was falling from my last hula round swiped it with his paw, and pulled it into the papazan chair so he could lick and bite it.

I've had an idea in my head for a painting for about 3 weeks, so I took the time today to put it to canvas... or at least start to. It is far more formal of an abstract than I've done in the past and therefore took some thinking, sketching and a lot of thought about whether I still could color in the lines. And, I'm very happy with how it has come along so far. There is a poem in that painting when it is done... I can feel it, and for me, that it a good sign.

Took some mental health time today, and it has made a world of difference. It has felt good to be at home by 4 rather than just getting home right about NOW... I got in a decent workout--nothing extreme or lengthy, just about 45 minutes... did some grocery shopping... ran an errand and came home to make dinner. An actual dinner, cooked in the oven... tomorrow will be cleaning and a much bigger workout before my brother arrives. I'm excited to see and spend some time with him this weekend.

Hula Girl

I bought a hula hoop today... and one thing I learned, never test out a hula hoop in the store while wearing a winter coat and holding a purse. But, it is pink and sparkly and my cats are treating it like it is diseased. Somehow, I even managed to keep it hula'ing for a good 30 seconds... either I'm not that good at it or it is too big. Obviously the latter makes more sense.

The Evil Bunnies Approacheth

Here we are, on the edge of religious holidays galore... Passover, Easter... but what does it REALLY mean? Evil bunnies.

Yep, evil bunnies hopping all about, leaving random eggies, stealing chocolate. It is a little known fact that these evil bunnies appear once a year... mostly, to taunt cats. My one cat, Vinnie, is scared of his own shadow and he seemed frightened by an Easter Bunny that flashed on TV on night, and since he likes it when you talk to him, I made up a story about Evil Bunnies... which causes his ears to lay back flat to his head and his eyes to bug out. I have no idea what he's thinking... but I think it is the premise for a children's book. Some might argue that it is blasphemous... they'd probably be right. I'm no Shel Silverstein, but it isn't as whacked out as some of his works, which can be downright scary and are considered children's poetry... well, except for his work in Playboy. It's all in the illustrations... I just need someone for a knack for illustrating... and since I doubt Ralph Steadman is willing and available, I know some guys.

Dwelling in the past

After an incredible workout tonight, and an incredible experience in buying new cross trainers, I returned home to find some state of disarray. It seems that the jungle kitties were extraordinarly bored today. A chair toppled over, the veggie basket on the counter overturned, the lotion and some jewelry from the bedroom table scatter about the floor, cabinets open everywhere... and as I walked though the place, putting things in order, I was lecturing Jake who was following me around, desperate for to be petted. When I got into the bathroom to put close the cupboard, I stopped to pet him and he just gave me this look as I continued talking about all the badness that occurred. The look said: Lady, that has already happened, quit dwelling on it and pet me, fur is itchy.

Of course, I realize the futility in telling the cats that they were bad for things done in the past; it was over and they survived, there was no harm done--and no sense in even remembering it past the thrill of the flying tomatoes or the bejesus being scared out of them as the chair fell. And I I could just move on, sit down and pay them the devotion they so deserve... I would obviously have much happier cats.

The Pink Full Moon

Tonight is the full moon, aptly named by some group I can't remember the name of that is full of self-importance (as groups generally are), the Pink Full Moon. It seems only right since next month has a blue moon... it's about damn time we had a pink one!

It is no secret to anyone that I wear A LOT of pink, buy a lot of pink stuff and genuninely like the color pink. Ironically, PURPLE is my favorite color, but I look better in pink. When I think about it; it has become somewhat iconic--my friend's six year old son associates anything pink being "like Nikki." I'm not sure when it started, because I distinctly remember as a child I refused to wear pink, or frilly, or girly at all... and now I love it. And maybe because it is now on my terms, I have a lot of fun with it.

Being the full moon, I took a nice long hot bath, which, I have to admit, after driving 4 guys to WrestleMania and back last night--and hanging out at a Royal Oak coffeehouse while the meyhem pursued at Ford Field, it was just the ticket. If I weren't so tired, I'd have a beer, too... or a glass of wine... but that would put me out for the evening, and I'm getting ready to settle in and read some more--imagining the landscape of Somolia and Kenya as Ayaan Hirsi Ali recants her childhood; painful and vivid. And I have to wonder, does a woman like Ali, a target for terrorists, wear pink? It isn't meant to be a frivilous question, full of my usual sarcasm; pink has connotations and it's genuine... can someone who lives under armed guard, who's movie making partner was brutally murdered, who's family has disowned and who has denounced and criticised Islam... does she wear pink?

Inspired moments

After spending last week actually listening to my body's screaming cry for a break, I also listened to that part of me (as my therapist would say) that is tired and overwhelmed and exhausted as to what it wanted... it needed to read--to stop, pick up a NEW book and get lost in someone else's words and world for a while. As my March reward for following the dietician recommendations, I bought myself a copy of Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali... and gave myself the moment to stop and read for a while. It truly is an inspired book thus far. And, I feel more at ease today. Maybe, just maybe, I need to stop and listen more.