Oh the Christ-anity

So I've been meaning to blog all week, but everything sort of snowballed and it's Thursday already. I'm very exited because at my new job, I have all of next week off. Have I mentioned I love the new job? Love.

Things are really starting to move here and it's exciting to see the changes unfold. I may even post a few pictures here so y'all can see the before and after. And to show off my hobbit hole. LOVE. So cute, so tiny, so very deficient, but still hobbity.

The reason for the blogging was to tell you about the concert on Saturday. I took Nox to see the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. It was intended to be his Christmas present and he was quite pleased with it. What's that? You have not heard of them?

Take an eighties hair band. Give them a back up orchestra including an electric violen, a huge laser and light show budget and imagine them rocking out Christmas carols. Listen here if you're curious. It was really fun and I was happy to be there.

But then...

Oh, my dear friends.

They brought Roger Daltry of The Who on stage.

And I was so happy that I pretty much exploded in to tiny little fan girl pieces. The crazy thing was I had heard that he was the surprise guest at the concert the night before, but for some reason assumed they wouldn't do it again. He did "Behind Blue Eyes", "Pinball Wizard" and "Listening to You".

Love The Who. Love.

It was crazy awesome and just what I needed after some very rockin' time contemplating the birth of someone else's savior.

Praise be!

-CGL

Stop Toying with my Emotions!

Chris is out! Jack is sick! Chris is in! Chris is very nearly out again!

Good lord, what a tireing episode. Compounded by a bad reaction to chinese food, it was a tough one to get through.

My feelings can be summed up:

1. Dear Christian, your outfits are divine, your 'tude is annoying. Check the arrogance at the door and you will go places, sistah chile.

2. Chris, oh god, you bring the jolly and good times back. Please, don't make a mess of things. Make good clothes, I know you have it in you.

3. I actually will really miss Jack. I also felt awful for him. I cannot imagine how horrid it must be to get so close to your life's dream and have it snatched away. He was a really interesting designer, made good television and was inspriational. HIV + for 17 years and he looks like a million dollars. That is not a boy who lets life boss him around. I hope he can come back later in the season, if only for moral support.

4. Oh Spitmark...well. She gives good tv. She wasn't too crazy this time. I'm starting to dig her a little, actually.

5. I love love loved this challenge. It was great to see real women on the show being treated with dignity. I like the energy of these contestants. None of them (except Christian, a little) treated them any different then they would their model. They made some less the beautiful women look pretty darn kickass.


On other notes, the holidays are smacking me in the face. I missed Hannakah this year entirely. Poor Nox put up with my gift ambivlance for the umpteenth time. (I love to give, but have difficulty recieveng. Not actually getting the present, that's awesome. I mean telling people what I want. I'm not a big wanter. If there's something I really want, I usually just get it.)
Luckly, I preordered a few gifts and have solid ideas for others. I'm looking foward to the vacation, even though I feel like I just got started on everything at work.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Hello me loves

Though I'd stick my head around your door and say hello. How are things? Really? No, tell me more.

Life here continues a pace. Work is really starting to come together into a cohesive plan. I think we can make some really exciting changes that will be quite a bit of work for me, but I'm looking forward to that.

The apartment hunt is on hold for the holidays. I was looking with a gust in October, but the job change slowed it down. Frankly, every month I'm home is another month I can save a substantial part of my salary. I will start looking in January. That's what I want for my birthday this year.

Project Runway? I don't want to talk about it. They took away my Chris and I am sad. Hopefully this week's episode will take an uplift.

Rock on,
CGL

Tiki Torch

( Note: I did not actually see the third epidsode. I read the recap on Television without Pity, which is really nearly as good and potenially funnier. I just didn't want to wind up talking about episode four during the season finale.)

(Second Note: The new job is going well. I have Christmas week off, so everyone should visit me in my blessedly empty house. Call. Schedule. BE MINE DAMNIT.)

We're so very nearly back to the challegenes I hold dear. I see what's happening here...every ex A lister is jumping on board a very popular show. BUTT OUT KATHY GRIFFIN WANNABES! Go make your own reality tv and leave the preshush alone.

So...back to the ritualistic torture. Design for men! Ten dollars, pat on the ass and off they go to the races.... I mean Mood.

Apparently Slanty Hair's attidude is starting to swell down. Apparently eighties wear will do that to you.

Is it just me or is it a bit early for the cattiness? We haven't even eliminated the really clear weak links yet. Save the bitchiness for when it's five in the morning, you're sewing together recycled rabid yaks and the models have a haunted look about them at the end of walk.

Me love Chris. Yes, he gets a name. I love him too much to deny him. He is large and squishy and Jay give or take a decade, but he is sweet and awesome and squishy. I know his design was questionable and best...but...love.

On the Spitmark.....um. Do you really think fashion designing is the right line of work for you if the body male or female makes you that uncomfortable? If this was American's Top Model Ms. Jay would have slapped the shit out of her already. In other news, her design sound pretty kickin'. I hope she stays now. She's clearly not a Wendy repeat=my biggest fear. In fact she might be a Santino repeat, a designer I HATED then came to be my near favorite (Red Lobster!)
Not having seen the designs for myself yet, I will skip to the ending. I liked Carmen, but no shirt? Really? And Ricky...well. Tears make good tv. To a point.

Later days,
CGL

Carrie Pulls a Paula

I know, I know, its been a week since episode two premiered, but I only got around to seeing it last night. New job is still shiny fyi.

So, Project Runway meets SJP. It was inevitable really, but second episode? Seriously? Where are the days of designing with flowers or for Barbie? Are they trying to class the show up? It makes my sad. The early days are absolutely when you should do the recycling challenge. Save the SJP episode for halfway through.

Spit-Mark should be toast. We all know the story line that goes along with her elk, but she's less creative then Santino and not nearly as manipulative as Wendy. Bottom line is she would never survive in a real fashion environment so cut her free before really good designers get sent home.

Angular Hair's taste is highly questionable and he's already wearing me down with his 'tude. I thought it was cute at first, but now it's just irritating.

I really like the pudgy guy. I liked that he admitted to being nervous around SJP.

And the lady herself? As the title says, she pulled a Paula. She had very little negative to say and looked deeply uncomfortable when Nina and Michael went into their usual song and bitchy dance. She also defended her choices constantly talking about how it wasn't what she had seen in the sketch. Methinks she is a little uncomfortable being around fashionistas after her own tastes have been picked apart so often.

That's all for now, heading out of town Friday morning to return Sunday night.

Peace,
CGL

Up a Tree

Greetings from my new job. Given it's entirely wooden, second floor balcony access only way, I've dubbed my new joint "Library Treehouse" or Treehouse for short. Once again, I am the sole librarian here. I currently have one work study though two is the usual number.

I spent my first day getting down and dirty and plan to repeat that tomorrow. It is dusty up in here. I also plan on throwing out a whole ton of junk. There are binders full of information from the eighties. Probably will waffle over their potential importance for a while before promptly chucking them. I'm also getting a new computer as the current one has definitely had better days. Hopefully I will also get a new printer as the current one takes up a lot of desk space.

It is dead silent here. There are no computers in here to draw in the internet zombies and the collection is far too specialized to draw on the greater community.

Oh, did I mention that we're still on the card catalog system? Yes, yes we are. Do I know how to do the card catalog system? No. No I don't. And I will learn only temporarily and then we are going electronic damnit. I will find the cheapest software available if I have to, but we are going to barcode this place up the wazoo and throw the card catalog down a flight of stairs or something.

Rock on,
CG:

Outie like a bellybutton

This is me leaving! Gave in my keys, said my goodbyes....it hasn't quite sunk in yet.

Happy Thanksgiving! Next time I post will be new job central!

Of Queens and Crazy Ladies

Ah, the first Project Runway of the season. The return of Hedi, Tim Gunn looking upbeat and the judges grumpy and bitchy. Does anyone else think that the contestants are way more experienced and qualified this time around?

It was actually nice to let the designers just design for their first task. It gave a much clearer impression of what they were capable of. The loser for instance. You couldn't make time on a simple dress to sew in a zipper? I knew she was doomed even before the critique. I was still hoping against hope that they would cut the crazy lady with the train of doom free though. It looks like a Santino meets Wendy situation there. It could get really ugly, annoying and repetitive. Though it did allow Heidi to get in a joke.

I really like the pudgy queen. He's like Jay v.2.1 and I actually liked his design better then the kid who won. Who is definitely Jeffery v. young and flaming.

I refuse to learn their names yet. Still far too disposable.

In real life, things here at VSL are getting intense as I prepare to leave. My last day is Tuesday and yesterday it dawned on everyone that they have made no preparations for my departure. Good job. So today was a hundred questions, but I've mostly checked out mentally. I have to run a training session on Monday and since Tuesday is when Thanksgiving is celebrated here, it looks like I'm not going to get my goodbye luncheon. Oh the fuck well.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Mmm....reality tv....

It tastes as good as candy and is just as bad for me. I had a chance to watch a lot while I malingered on the couch. Here are the highlights:

1. Project Runway returns this week! My fave reality tv show evah. And as if in honor of this Santino was on Amercia's Most Smartest Model. I miss that season. Nick and Daniel were so doing it.

2. America's Most Smartest Model....this is brain crack for anyone who has any kind of common sense and midlevel IQ, but never made it in the looks department. Geeks created this show. It's great. Watch dumb, pretty people fall on their dumb, pretty faces. I am petty. I don't care.

3. Shot of Love with Tila Tequila...... I didn't want to watch it. There was literally nothing else on. Not even BBC's Cash in the Attic which is my stand by sick day show. It is truly horrifying. She sticks all her potential dates (twist: they are men and women! Bi people should suffer horrible reality torment too! Yay, equality?) in one bed. And then tells them they shouldn't do anything physical with each other. And then is utterly shocked when they do. Given that there is more alchol then in a pub, no place for privacy and everyone on the show has an intense desire to be desired and watched..... what was she expecting?

4. I Love New York.... Are her implants growing from show to show? She has entered into the world of scary scary breasts. They look like they might explode. I miss Midget Matt already. He was the voice of reason.

5. I just used the word reason in conjunction with reality programming....shoot me.

I am going to try to do a weekly update of Project Runway that I hope will be interactive! I want to act with you! You make me active. You are special.

I swear that I still have deep thoughts. It's just been a very long few weeks.

Outie like a belly button,
CGL

And so it goes....goes BOOOYAH!!!!

I have got a letter, I have give notice.

This actually all happened on Monday, but then my immune system imploded and I've been to busy coughing, sneezing and sleeping to say anything. Sorry if I left y'all in suspense.

The reactions so far to my leaving have been very interesting. Despite the fact that I never publicly grumble, no was surprised. Everyone has more or less said 'good for you' and really meant it. A few have said they were sure that it was going to happen at any minute. The track record isn't very good here for keeping librarians.

I am still terrified about what the new job might hold. They are much more relaxed at this place, but I hope they are not so relaxed that nothing gets done. I like to function and I would like a job that if not challenges, then at least stays at my level of competency instead of drifting down to the level of file clerk.

I am already recovering from the Cold of Doom. It gets the of Doom because what I thought was pink eye was actually mucus coming out of my eyeballs. That's right, my eyes were leaking sneeze juice. SO GROSS.

Next week is mostly going to be spent wrapping things up, letting people know that I'm leaving who need to know and then dealing with whatever they come up with.

It's going to leave the library ridiculously understaffed. I have mixed feelings about this. My boss left about a month after she hired me. I really resented that and resolved that I would not do the same. I almost did. We were searching for a part-time person and I found a great canidate, so great that I wanted to snatch her up. Her hours wound up not meshing with ours and I was surprised about how relieved I was about that.

On the one hand, being without any librarian at all means that the library will probably be closed a lot. People that I like here will have to take on an additional burden of keeping its doors open and they are already busy enough.

On the other hand, what my boss did felt like a trap. I was looking forward to working with her and might not have taken this job over the other offer had I known what was going to happen.

All in all, it's been a good experience. Next week I will dedicate myself to getting my office and papers in order. I have instructions to type out on everything that I do here. Some if I already have documented, it just needs to be cleaned up.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

The W word

That's right, I'm still waiting. I have verbal confirmation of the job, but they are procrastinating on sending me a letter of employment. The letter is key because without it, I simply won't resign here. I can't. I would be too afraid they'd flake out and then I'd really be left with my pants down.

The bad part is that my boss here at the VSL resigned today effective by January. If I don't get out now, I might get caught in the middle of shitstorm. Seriously. There will be restructuring and I'm honestly already tired of it and nothing has even happened yet.

-CGL

OMFG my BF iz uberl33t

His birthday is actually tomorrow, but I figured I'd post it today since no one reads this blog after five. I think?

Nox is thirty as of midnight and looks damn good. So...

30 things I love about my thirty year old man ( in no particular order) :
NOTE: PLEASE SKIP IF YOU ARE NOT INTERESTED IN SAPPINESS

1. Perfect blend of humble and arrogant.
2. Creative mind that is warped along the edges.
3. Listens.
4. No, I mean like really listens, remembers and asks follow up questions.
5. Talks. About how he feels. Amazing.
6. Is not an optimist.
7. Deeply geeky.
8. Gorgeous. To me. Which is all that matters, really.
9. Has no compunctions about tickling me until I scream.
10. Honest. Sometimes to a fault.
11. Dedicated and loyal.
12. Always has time for a friend in need.
13. Wants either a gaggle of kids or none at all, depends on the day.
14. Does not offer a strong opinion if he doesn't have one.
15. Will debate a point with me just for fun and to watch my eyes go cross.
16. Does not mind clingy girlfriend.
17. Is physical beyond the bedroom.
18. Respects all women even his mother who is occasionally a Pain.
19. Opens my car door. Every. Time.
20. Always ready for a good laugh.
21. Accepts compliments grudgingly.
22. Thinks I'm hot. V. important that one.
23. Teases, but doesn't insult.
24. Is continually startled by my use of the word Jew in a negative context, no matter how many times I explain that I get to throw it around because I am one.
25. Still very much in touch with his inner child. They watch Transformers together.
26. Beats me at Risk every time.
27. Accepts defeat gracefully at Monopoly.
28. Biggest Flirt Ever...with boys. So Freakin' Cute.
29. Can still blush though he swears he is nearly 100% unflappable.
30. Calls me/texts me just to say he loves me too.

Wow, I think I just gave myself a cavity. Happy birthday, my dear!

Tough Choices and Tough Love

Well the job offer came in. They aren't going to match my salary. The difference isn't much and it'll probably make itself up between cheaper insurance and not having to pay tolls (commute is in the oppisote direction). I think I'll accept it.

I thought I would be happier. But thanks in part to my own baggage and the pleasentries of my parents, I'm just tired and sad today.

I love my parents and when we spoke last night, I know they spoke out of love for me.

But telling me that this career is never going to support me and that if I have a family what am I going to do? And we didn't pay all this money for your education for you to pay beans...


It made me feel like shit. This is not the first time that my parents have done this to me and it probably won't be the last. Money is a huge priority for them (read mostly my mother, but dad too).

I respect them a lot. I love that they provided me so much for my education, but last night they made me feel like I had failed.

....

Real time posting.

I just met one on one with a patron. I knew was coming and forced myself to suck up all my overbrewed emotion. He was lovely, very sweet and ambitious and we talked about some of his options for attaining his goals.

It made me remember that goals are not something we meet all at once. My parents don't realistically think that I will be a millionaire. They want me to be safe and happy. They know our economy is tanking and what that can mean for people making less then steller salaries.

But I think I am starting to become enough a grown up to know what's right for me. I live under my parents roof which can make it difficult for me to see myself as an adult. Even when I'm on my own I still feel immature. It doesn't help that people frequently comment about how young 23 is and that I have so much time to make decisions.

I'm not playing in a sandbox dreaming any more, but I'm not preganant, married and with a mortgage either.

I'm going to take this new job and do it with a balls to the walls attitude. In the meantime, to appease the part of me that feels like I need to do more, I think once I've settled in, I will commit to an online program.

To be honest, it isn't just my parents who are disappointed in my earning capacity. I want to make the kind of salary that makes buying a reasonably sized home not impossible dream. That may mean leaving librarnship behind completely or moderating what kind of work I do.

What I do know is that I am way to young to have all the answers. I'm still ignorant as pig shit about a lot of things.

Anyway, it's a cop out to blame my parents about my mixed emotions. A decrease in salary is fucking depressing. But VSL and I are just not compatible. I've gained weight and an irritable attitude here. A lot of people thrive here, but then again, they aren't shoved in the basement.

Does any of this make sense? I know you guys are out there, I can see you as red dots on my statcounter hits.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

SVU, I love you

I do watch a great deal of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. I have no interest in the original or Criminal Intent.

But something bothered me in an episode I saw last night. It was one of the more twisty ones with the plot doubling back on itself. The first twist was that the dead body ( a teenage boy) was thought to be a woman's son. She had reported him missing a decade before and was wrongly convinced that it was a sexual felon recently released from prison who nabbed him. There was no evidence that this was the case and the police dismissed her. The teenager is found in the same neighborhood as the felon and she identifies the boy as her son. She weeps thinking that he was alive and being tortured by the felon all this time.

Except she is wrong. The boy isn't her son. Right after she identifies him, someone else comes in and identifies him as a friend.

The case goes from there and never goes back to her.

That's what bothered me. I mean, I don't blame the show. They were trying to tell a story, that was a twist and they left it at that. There is only so much drama you can pack into an hour. But there's this woman, living under a delusion for ten years that this man killed her son.

No on tries to correct her or protect the sex offender. I'm not saying that a sex offender deserves protection. It is clearly stated that he raped a young boy and I don't have any sympathy for him. I just wonder about this woman. Clearly, she has suffered and has spent her life channeling her guilt into hounding this man.

Why couldn't they have spared two lines to make sure she got some help that she needed?

I know, I know, I'm taking television too personally again, but I think what we watch is very often a reflection on our culture. This woman was gravely ill. She was losing her life fighting against someone that may have had nothing to do with her son's disappearance. But she wasn't dangerous so we can't spend the time on her.

Food for thought?

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Caving into Apathy

Oh sweet sweet Apathy, you are every my faithful lover.

To be fair, what I usually indulge in is not true apathy. When I become anxious, I tend to jettison the things that are making me nervous. It goes beyond procrastination. I just pretend that I don't care and will avoid the thought if it entirely. This never ever works. Instead, whatever I am pushing away lurks just beneath the surface until I get it done.

As an upshot starting in college, I dedicated myself to becoming anal. I am not naturally organized, but I was ruthless and found it made my life a lot easier. I still backslide occasionally and probably will for the rest of my life, just as I deal with my anxiety for the rest of my life.

In any case, the good news is that this afternoon I am going to get a job offer. I don't know if I'll take it because I have a feeling they are going to try to low ball me salary wise. I think that is why they've waited so long.

I found out about this meeting on Friday night. Monday, I came in and got a lot of work done. I just pounded through it. The same yesterday and this morning. Usually, I push things off as long as possible at VSL. I expected that hearing about the offer would send me into a tailspin of apathy.

The truth is, I am a people pleaser. I know that some people may laugh who know me well enough when they hear that. But its true. I hate hate hate when I offend someone or make someone angry. I get physically ill with stomach cramps.

Resigning from VSL would make a lot of people angry. When my boss left here about a year ago, she was petrified to even go to social gatherings after she handed in her resignation. I thought that was ridiculous, but now that I may be doing that, it does seem weird. I will be leaving them in a not so great position: empty library.

As a result, I've been working extra hard, even though for all I know I will be staying here another year. I just want to make things right. I also don't want to screw over the next person.

I wish I could feel more apathetic.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Attack of the Killer Cold

Apparently one can have a 24-hour cold. Yesterday, my head felt like it was going to explode, I was easily confused and everything hurt. Also, snot. And snot with blood! Wait...where are you going?

Anyway, I'm still a little snotty, but already the aches are pretty much gone and I'm not more easily confused then usual. Which isn't saying much.

Of course these days of general ickiness occurred on the two days of the year where there is no way on God's green earth that I couldn't go to work because otherwise, THE APOCALYPSE WOULD BE UPON THEE. I did it for the kittens.

In other news, I planned to look at apartments this week to show my blase attitude about stupid other interview thing that will clearly come to nothing. So of course, they contacted me and want to talk to me a week from tomorrow. I'm pleased, but also lord how many times must they talk to me before they make a decision? This would make the fourth interview. FOUR. REEEDECULOOS.

And it means that the area I was looking at to live in may become less doable. Awesome.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Ms. Manners Gives a Beat Down

Not really, but wouldn't that be awsome?

NO! ::punch to the face:: Elbows! ::kick to the groin:: On The! ::roundhouse kick:: Table! ::grinding of high heel into the stomach::

As I may have mentioned before my patrons are sometimes a little...special. See Redrum, Redrum two posts back (exciting update: stains still present and someone peed GREEN all over a seat, not sure what STD causes that).

I have had a few manners issues, some of the doozies including knocking on my cage walls instead of the doors, being cursed out for not providing more printer paper quickly enough and someone sticking pieces of packing tape on my car door. To be fair, I don't think the last was personal as none of the patrons know which car is mine.

In any case, I think one of my favorite small manner mishaps is when they borrow something from me then complain about the quality. I love this. "These scissors are dull! What do you mean you only have paperclips? Why can't I have a stapler? This stapler is crappy!"

Yes. I will get right on that. The funny thing is that these are not spoiled rich people. They in fact come from fairly low income neighborhoods. Yet, whenever the least one of their demands is not met there is an instant hissy fit.

Ms. Manners needs to get on those karate lessons stat.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Spontaneous Moments of Joy

Last night as Nox and I were locked in a competitive tickle battle for the ages, I contemplated moments of spontaneous joy. Well, actually I was fighting for my over ticklish feet, but I thought about it later.

And for some reason it uncovered one of my favorite childhood memories which was gathering dust:

My mother and I were going to plant a garden on the side of my house. This was when my mother was in her gardening phase. I think we had around seven on our half acre property. Anyway, I was helping since even at eight I loved mud

It was probably a bad idea because storm clouds were gathering, but my mother is extremely impulsive and so out we went. Sure enough just as we got the soil good and tilled, the sky opened up. I thought this was the most hilarious thing in the world and started building mud piles. My mom actually joined in. We built an entire flooded town with rivers and buildings with stick flags.

It's all too easy to complain about my mother. We're very different people and sometimes it seems like we speak a different language. Remembering those moments reminds me why I love her beyond the obvious 'she's your mother, idiot'.

The point being that even in the midst of pressure from work ( AND STILL MORE WAITING HOLY FLYING FUCKNUGGET), it's better to let go and enjoy the people in our lives who want to tickle our feet until we scream.

Or something.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Redrum! Redrum!

This week has been so awesome, I might stick my head in an oven for fun! Sylvia did it...it must be cool!

The bad is work related and therefore I no talkly on the bloggy about it.

Except for one thing.

Bathroom cleanliness is dubious at my office because many people use the facilities over the course of the day and the two person janitorial staff is trying to keep up with ten bathrooms all the time.

That's fine. I am not a squeamish bathroom girl. I sit directly on the seat, even forgoing the tissue thin seat cover unless the seat is so gross I have no other choice.

But even I was grossed out by the menstrual blood spattering the stall door. I'm not even sure how one could physically do that unless they were performing some kind of modern interpretive tampon dance.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

P.S. Still !@#$%^&* waiting.

Throwing Pots

Ever since I was little I have found mud incredibly soothing. Just ask my despairing mother of two decades ago as she dutifully packed a spare change of clothes for my inevitable mud bath.

There's something wonderfully grounding about making something from dirt. My parents enrolled me in a pottery class when I was thirteen and all that remains of my efforts is a ceramic cat, all facial features long ago washed away.

I started again in the spring of this year when the monotony of my work was starting to get to me. It was just like I remembered it. Running hands through thick cool earth and forming into dilapidated bowls of unknown usage.

I'm never going to be very good at it. I've long ago accepted that my hands were just not made to create pretty, delicate things. They are large hands with bent fingers. They are meant to garden, cup my breasts obscenely in public and baffle ring makers. I hope one day they will be hands that hold a new born's head. I think I'd like to do that.

But I'd like to make a bowl that I can eat cereal out of first. Priorities, people.


Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

P.S. Yes, still waiting

Waiting

Had a third interview and they said they would be done by the end of the day with their decision. That was yesterday. Waaaaiting is the hardest part.

I consider myself a fairly patient person. I'm not a 'are we there yet?' sort of gal. But this is sort of...massively important and I think they are trying to torture me. Even if it is bad news, I just want to know already so I can get on with my life i.e. apartment hunting.

Invisible DVD

The Scottish philosopher Balfour said that destiny is the scapegoat we make responsible for our crimes. He was probably right, too, but I bet he was real dull at parties- Darien Fawkes, The Invisible Man

That's right, I quoted a quote within a quote because I am META.

Anyway, about seven years ago when I was but a wee bairn, I saw a show of such extreme awesomeness that I love it from it's very first episode. Of course, it was on the Sci-Fi channel which meant that despite the love of many it was gone after two seasons as Babylon and Stargate rattled on and on and on....sorry. Bitter.

Lots of people protested...to scary lengths. There was a group that tried to get other channels to pick the show up and were pretty professional about it. Yet another rallied to get the show DVDs...which they only produced in England.

That brings us to present. I wish to attain the DVDS, have the disposable income finally and Nox's DVD player can read the European format thing on the UK DVDS. The only place to attain said dvds that I can find is on amazon UK. Great! EXCEPT THEY WILL NOT SHIP TO ME. WHY LORD WHY?!

The show? Invisible Man. The premise? There is a thief, Darien Fawkes, who gets a gland put in his head rather then stay in jail. This offer is made by his older brother who works in for the U.S. government and is promptly killed after completing the surgery. And of course, he is the only one who knows how to remove it. By agreement, Darien has to use the gland's invisiblity liquid (Quicksilver) producing power for the government. They have an extra hold on him because after too many uses the gland makes him bat shit crazy. Red eyes, homicidal tendencies the works. The goverment can give him a shot to prevent this..as long as he keeps working for them.

Whew. That was a lot of exposition that does not all explain the awesome of the show. The awesome is the SNARK. SO MUCH SNARK! Fawkes partner is Hobbes. Hobbes is heavily medicated schizophrenic with years of FBI experiance behind him. The government body they work for? Has to operate under disguise. So they are sent out on cases officially as Fish and Game officers. AND TEH SNARK! The entire show after the pilot is them chattering at each other. SO GAY. SO AWESOME.

And the UK Amazon does not want me to have it. SO SAD.

Also? I had WAAAAAY TOO MUCH COFFEE THIS MORNING.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Micepoclypes

Last night, tired and worried about my potential job switch (Dear God, PLEASE PLEASE I WANT THIS JOB I will totally give you everything I have in my Change Pot PLEASEY MCPLEASEY PIES) and in all together distracted state of mind.

Mom had asked me to make dinner, specifically to grill her some ding dong chicken ten minutes on one side, ten on the other, last five minutes with bbq sauce exactlty. Fine. Whatever.

We have a gas grill which is mostly awesome. Crank on the gas stick the lighter into the whole, it makes a FOOOOOOM! noise and you got flesh charring fire. So I take the ligheter, turn it on, foom and what not. The dogs are running off into the yard, I watch them for a second, then glance back down.

To my credit, there was no screams. I am not a screamer by nature (just ask Nox ::waves :: Hi honey, totally not sharing about our sex lives, no worries, I would never ever. Nopers) I am a bug squisher and I was the proud pet owner of a rat in college. Not a screamer.

But I did stand in open jawed hire as mice crawled across the coals. I was so shocked that I didn't turn the grill off at first. They were silent, they were grey and guys? for a minute I thought I was hallucinating.

Then reality hit me with a mallet, I shut the gas off, herded the dogs inside and called my dad. I noticed that the grill was still letting off a few whiffs of smoke. Later, my dad uncovered an entire abandoned nest. He didn't say so, but I know he found a corpse or two because I could hear them getting sucked into the shop vac.

Poor mice.

Also? A deer ran into my dad's car last week causing a pretty close call with serious injury and there is a cricket in our living room whom we cannot locate, but is driving my dogs to insanity.

The animal world is out to get my family.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Murder Most Foul

"Needless to say I have some unusual habits, yet all these socially acceptable people can't wait to pick up hammers and smash their food to bits. Normal people are so hostile." - Dexter a Shotime Series

This post deals with the themes of the show, not the plot, so it should be readable even if you've never seen or heard of it.

For those of you not in know or like me without premimum cable stations like Shotime, Dexter came out last year. It's about a serial killer who takes out bad guys. It had the potential to be very very bad. The decision to rent in on DVD was based on a series of great reviews, Michael Hall (my most beloved actor formerly of Six Feet Under) and a morbid streak the size of the Grand Canyon.

As creepy and morbid as the show's concept is, Nox and I consumed the entirety of it over the weekend and I never felt afraid or grossed out. There were tense moments, but there was more blood and gore in one episode of CSI.

The writing for this show is phenomenal. The artistic direction is beautiful. Like the first few seasons of Six Feet Under, there is a perfect sync between words and visuals.

So that's the review. Now onto the meat of the matter:

What makes this show so appealing?

Surely, Dexter is the monster we most fear. He repeatably assures us that he feels nothing, cares for no one and that if it were not for his foster father's particular way of dealing with his killing urge, he wouldn't even bother choosing sinister victims.

The show is told from the first person. There is no escaping that this is a man who kills because it is the only way he can 'feel'. He followed the traditional path of a sociopath, killing animals as a child working his way up to human victims.

And yet...there is something so very appealing about him. About his situation. Every time he takes down another killer, a part of me cheered for him. After all, how different was his take down of a child killer then that of one Batman might exercise? Batman is continually cast as fairly unfeeling and he's a superhero!

The theme of normalcy comes up often. Dexter must maintain a veneer of the normal to cover his bloody acts. Continually tested beyond his capacity, every day is a struggle to fit in and pass under the radar. Layered in with that is a deep feeling of loneliness. Only his father really knew him and now, he feels unknowable.

And who the hell hasn't felt that way? Dexter is that most extreme end of that darkest piece we all carry. That awful, unknowable and alien depth which the book Why Good People Do Bad Things calls the 'Shadow Self'.

Every time Dexter uses his dark impulses to rid the world of someone bad, who hurts others...is that to be celebrated?

How do we all turn our own dark impulses to good use? How sure are we that it isn't another way of saying 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'?

The mask of normalcy we all wear can cover a multitude of evils not only in ourselves, but in our day to day lives. Is it any wonder that this show is a hit in a country that watches an endless (seemingly bloodless if you judge by the news) war slowly strangling our economy and social infrastructure?


Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Lonely Only: The Myth, The Legend, The Cold Stark Reality

I was reading one of those charts the other day that breaks down everything about you based on birth order. This particular chart had nearly nothing nice to say about onlys even though it found a few positives for the other sorts.

Being an only myself, I have a few things to say about this because after all, we're narcissistic bastards. So let's break it down:

1. Birth is a miracle.
First off, I'm a big believer in every birth is a miracle. But my parents hardly screamed out hallelujahs to the almighty when I was born. Not to mention they'd had three miscarriages (one late term) and if they wanted to think it was a miracle, they had a right. I never felt particularly miraculous.
2. Parents have no previous experience.
My dad is a kindergarten teacher and my mom worked with troubled youth. If they had more experiance they probably never would have had me at all.
3. Retains 200% attention from both parents. May become rival of one parent.
200%? These researchers apparently can't do math. Anyway, this was most definitly not true in my case. My mother worked two jobs (by choice) and my dad was getting his doctorate and working full time through most my early years. They tried their best, but I got maybe 50%.
4. Can be over-protected and spoiled.
Were my parents over-protective? It's hard to say since I was the most introverted kid ever until I got to high school. I was far more protective of myself then I would ever allow them to be. And I was certainly not spoiled. My mom taught me how to make her coffee when I was three. I always worked for what I got. Presents at birthdays and holidays were extremely reasonable. They did buy me a car and I did get to travel as a teen, but it was ingrained in me how lucky I was to get all those things.
5. Likes being the center of adult attention.
God, no! I was extremely respectful of authority figures and they liked me because of that, but I did not want the full focus of their attention ever. Way too scary.
6. Often has difficulty sharing with siblings and peers.
Did these guys miss the definition of only? Ok, I will cop to this one. Sharing gets to me sometimes. Then I slap myself upside the head and give it. Because sharing is a lot more fun.
7. Prefers adult company and uses adult language.
I preferred my parents company, not adults in general. I did use adult language. This I will agree is pretty much inevitable. It didn't help that my parents were big believers in not talking down to kids. Which is how I came to write a paper on paradigm shifts in eighth grade. Thanks, Dad.

I find the birth order psychology to be a lot like the horoscopes. If you say things generally enough it will count for most people.

Being an only child did not affect me much as a child. In fact, given my personality I was much better off then I might have been with a sibling. Having no siblings is only now starting to effect me. There won't be any weddings or cute nieces and nephews. My own potential kids will have to relay on their father for an extended family.

And yet, I would still say to anyone who asked: If you think you can only handle one kid, it is not a crime to only have one. Only children are not little adults with an endless sucking need for attention.

As a sub note, they also analyze adopted children and on behalf of Nox, I'm more offended then I was about the only child breakdown. He's a lot of things, but spoiled and demanding he isn't.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Cause She's Got Rocks On the Mind

Today, a tribute! It is in actuality, a birthday tribute to my most wonderful Geo Penny. The Tribute is late because I suck at life for two years running and she has the right to beat me mercilessly...with sticks.

So without further adieu (well maybe just a little adieu...adieu) reasons why Geo is so freakin' awesome:

1. OMG this girl is smart. Smart to the S to the M to the A to the R to the T. She can eat you with science! It's true!

2. She is a nazi about recycling. At one point, she was hoarding 100+ shopping bags.

3. Her dorky obsessions are many, but my favorite is her love of movies that contain bad geology: Dante's Peak and The Core for example. She can watch these over and over.

4. She is the only one who loves our shared home state as much as I do.

5. She's also an only child and we totally get that about each other. Awesome.

6. Once? We both wanted pie. DESPERATELY. We bought two frozen ones and defrosted them and ate nearly the whole of one in a sitting and it was awesome.

7. She always has a solution. See #1. If you have a problem, she's all over it. Also? She gives good hugs.
8. The Knitting Saga:
Me: I will teach you to knit!
Geo: Meh. Knitting is lame. My mom wanted to teach me, but I don't like it.
Me: I bet if I taught you, you would kick my ass at it.
Geo: Meh.
Law: TEACH ME! Even though I am left handed and will require brain strain to reverse the knitting ways!
Me: OK! ::does so::
Geo: ...now I'm left out.
Me: LET ME TEACH YOU.
Geo: Ok, ok. ::proceeds to learn and KICK MY ASS AT KNITTING. She made a sweater and the sweetest stuffed pig ever::

9. She out stubborns me and Law on occasion. This is incredibly impressive.

10. She's my hetero life partner. Nuff said.

There's no number 11 because this really isn't my reason, it's just a cute story. See, I hate the franchise that rhymes with Rectal Hell, but Law and Geo LOVE IT. They refer to themselves as rhymes with Rectal Hell friends. See why I adore them?

Rock on, Geo, rock on like it's your birthday from last week.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Now I Is Stock Full of Culture

Were you getting sick of all the TV talk around these parts? Yeah, me too.

Luckily, Nox and I went and stuffed ourselves silly on culture over the weekend, ostensibly to celebrate our two year anniversary.

Shakespeare was seen, jazz was listened too and awesome food was consumed. Midsummer's Night was the play and it was impressively done with a very strong Puck and Mechanicals crew. The four lovers were dull, aside from the fight scene, but I've found that to be a weakness in the play not just the overall performers. The languishing lovers really need to be hammed up to wring more then a modicum of amusement out of them and I've yet to see that tack taken.

We ate dinner at an amazing restaurant. The atmosphere was killer and I wished, briefly, to be rich enough to eat at places like that all the time. The I realized I would wind up looking like a whale.

The jazz was good though I'm not much of a judge of those things. What was really nice was to be outside on a perfect day, reading a book and being with him.

In other news, if I have to argue over the packaging of my food one more time with the lunch truck guy... Every time I buy food off of him, he gives me a nine act play about wrapping the donut in a separate bag etc. Let me be clear. The truck parks outside my building. I walk maybe one hundred feet and ten stairs to get to and from this place. And every time he tries to foist two or three bags on me and tells him things like "But it might get squashed." As if I have no experiance ever with food and the squishabilty thereof. And yes, squishability is a word. It's my word and I will love it just like I love Nox.

See, all things are connected.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Not Very Mysterious

Once there was a dork who couldn't get a woman. So he studied, as dorks are wont to do. He made up a new persona, dubbed himself Mystery and started scoring by the dozens. Other men were shocked and pleaded to be taught his ways. And then VH1 gave him a show because that is what they do.

Pick-Up Artist is fundamentally a good show (my definition of a good show). It has lots of train wrecks etc... But there is also something so desperately sad about it. And not just with the dorky guys all jockeying to hang out with a white man who wears a furry top hat. The dorky guys are all sort of sweet and bemused, except for the creepy forty-five year old. The dorks do what dorks do, bumbling through their tasks. Most of them are young enough that they probably would get a girl eventually.

But see then they would have to have a dorky girl. You know, someone who operated on their level. Now my sweetie is a geek to nth degree, but Nox embraces this about himself and sticks to geeks. And that boy can pull some ass. Geek girls fall into his lap. I'm not even jealous anymore because he can't seem to help it.

Anyway, these guys want to go to CLUBS and score. These are not guys who should be at clubs. They're probably pretty funny and sweet in a smaller enviorment, but we here in the U.S.A. think everyone should be An Extrovert! We! Love! People! YAY!

Mystery essentially teaches these guys how to devolp a fake persona that will last long enough to meet new people, get a girl to home with you and make with the naked time. Has no one heard of liqour? I'm pretty sure that's worked for uglier, less personable men.

How long does the persona last you? Several of these guys are under employed or unemployed. They aren't exactly natural romeos either. I'm not saying money is the key, but unemployment is unattractive. Sorry, it is. I don't need you to be a lawyer, but you shouldn't watch more day time television then your mother.

The thing that bothers me the most, is that as a woman, I feel demeaned. There is a lot of talk on the show about 'respecting' women or 'looking for a deep realtionship'. But the facade is thing and eventually Mystery will slip and say things like 'the target has to earn your attention'. Target? Are they shooting things now?

The type of woman that goes with guys that consider them targets are not the type of girls that date geeks. Just saying.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Cha-Cha-Changes

Oh Bowie, how I love thee. Yes, I redecorated around here a little. The background was getting on my nerves as was the Western lettering.

Revenge is Ice Cream

Hi, my name is CGL and I like bad reality television.

It wasn't always this way. Once upon a time I scoffed at friends and loved ones who enjoyed things like Big Brother and American Idol.

Project Runway was the gateway drug. It wasn't like the rest of those shows! It was was about something! There were pretty clothes and Tim Gunn!

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

The beginning of the end was Surreal Life. I watched the first season because I have an unreasonable love of Corey Feldman that began at the tender age of 11. I think I skipped a season or two, but was sucked back in.

Flavor Flav is a mutant. A mutant who makes for awesome television. I can happily sit and knit and watch the thosands of shows that sprang from his tired loins.

I still can't watch Survivor or the Bachelor. These hold no interest for me.

But if it was spawned by VH1 or Bravo there is a good chance that I am enslaved to it's awesome hideousness.

The train wreck that was Flavor of Love 1,2, I Love NY and Charm School, I found endlessly enthralling. Who were these girls who were willing to kick, bite and scratch there way into the heart of an ugly ex-crack addict that wears the outfits of an unmedicated schizophrenic?

I know the deep ugly reason why I love these shows. The girls and guys of Flavor and/or Rock of Love, hell even the denizens of Project Runway and Top Model are the people that made me feel rotten in high school. They were all prematuraly ready for the bedroom and considered themselves the kings and queens of the school. These are the girls that would smile at you while their friend tripped you in the cafeteria.

I thought I had let go of the bitterness. I thought I had decided that their bitchness was just to be accepted and left in my past.

But there they were, larger then life and clawing at each other to get at men that have no interest to them or perform for judges who would precisely and kindly rip their egos into itty bitty bits.

Revenge, even vicariously, is so very very sweet. And cold....like ice cream.


Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

"A name makes no matter to me, as long as I can call you my own."

- A Knight's Tale

"Hi you must be the new girl. If you need anything I'll be the Irish guy over in computers."
"Great! I'll be the Jew in cellphones."

Not a movie quote or a racist confrontation, this was actually the first conversation I had with Nox. Our actual anniversary date is sort of arbitrary as neither of us could remember when we actually started going out. The date we settled on was August 19 (his parent's anniversary and two days after my parent's anniversary...weird). Anyway, one way or another it's been two years now.

I have loved spending this time with him and look forward to more.

And if you're reading this, Happy Anniversary honey!

The Most Predictable Woman in the World

Mom: We will call you from Spain! It will be fabulous for I have a phone card!
Me: Uhh...I would buy a phone card when you get there from someone who will also tell you how to use one in English.
Mom: LALALALALA My Hispanic friends told me this would work!
Me: They are from Mexico not Spain...
Mom: LALALALALALALALA

Me: This is what will happen, they will go away and not call because they can't figure out how to use her phone card. She will keep telling my father that it is fine, I know will somehow surmise that they are perfectly all right. My father will eventually figure out that his daughter who suffers from similar anxiety issues will actually be thinking that they are dying in Spanish prison after being brutally beaten and robbed. He will then call right when I am on the verge of calling the cruise line to make sure they are alive.

Five Days in to them being away there is no phone call.

Nox: They're fine. Seriously. They're both 50+ years old. THEY. ARE. FINE.
Me: ::in tears:: Death! Spanish Prison! Mugged!
Nox: ::administers hugs and probably wonders what he did to deserve this::

Seven Days into trip, I start searching for cruise line's phone number when my cellphone rings.

Dad: So we couldn't figure out the phone card. Your mother wouldn't let me call you. She said you would know we were fine.
Me: Anxiety issues!
Dad: I know! I told her!
Me: ::sigh:: Well. Yeah.
Dad: I'm going to do a comedy act at the talent show on Saturday and tell poop jokes about the Duty Free shop!
Me: I love you, Dad.

My mother? Most predictable woman ever!

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Come See the Librarian in her Natural Habitat

I don't often talk specifically about my work because I live in fear of someone tracking down my blog go 'AH-HA' and I lose my job, can't find another and have to live with my parents forever.

I am temporarily revoking that anxitey today because my job provides great material. As you may have surmised (or probably just flat out know since the two and half people who read this blog actually know me), I work in A Very Small Library that is not public. I will amend to this that my patrons are..special. They do not suffer from severe retardation, but many of them are somewhat learning disabled. This leads to all kinds of fun moments.

In the Very Small Library (VLS from now on, my office sits in one corner. It is nearly entirely glass from four feet above the floor on up. I assume this design was chosen so that the librarian could keep an eye on the patrons, but generally makes me feel like an exhibit at the San Diego Zoo. Especially at feeding time. The door is to the left of me and I face slightly away from it. I am constantly taken off guard by knocking. Unfortunately there is literally no way to rearrange the furniture.

A combination of my patrons abilities and this glass office leads to moments like this one. I am sitting at my computer, mostly zoned out and a patron knocks...not on my door, but on the glass in front me. Which means he walked behind the reference desk and is staring down at me. He then gestures for me to come help him at a computer.

When I can around, I asked him gently to never do that again and he looked completely confused. I realized that it had not even occurred to him to check to see if I had a door.

My continual frustration with my patrons is not that they aren't smart. I like a lot of them, some well below the average intelligence range. It's the lack of simple social niceties that bothers me.

Ooooh...gotta go it's feeding time and I smell chocolate!

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Radio Silence

My parents have been away for four days now and I have heard nary a word from them. I'm not quite full blown worried yet as they did travel out of the country. It's likely they are having a really good time. Last time they went away for a week they only called once five days into their trip (which was extra special as I'd just had The Unfortunate Mostly My Fault Blowout with Nox). I hope they're out there and not mugged or somehow in a Spanish prison. This is not entirely unlikely if you know my Mother.

Of course, this is the same week that the Nox's parents went aways so instead of some nice relaxing private time, we are running back and forth from each other's homes taking care of dogs. I love my puppies, but they get very anxious when the parents are away and fall out of their good habits. Boy Dog has woken me up at 3am to pee every day so far, no matter how late I let him out before going to bed.

Grumble.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Inappropirate Job Hunting

All right, so I had a really cute post planned for today about parents and the comparison thereof and so on and maybe I will still write it, but there's something that just happened that I have to talk about.

Last week I received a job application in my mailbox. Which would be fine, except we currently don't have a position open at Very Small Library. I sent a very polite, sort of bemused e-mail back (no way I was going to send her real mail back) mentioning that we posted all positions online on a big website. Already I was weirded out. I know some people practice this technique to get jobs, but it felt very pushy to me and uniformed. We're not a huge complex with hundred of opportunities.

Then, just now I received a phone call. "May I speak to the Library Director?" I answered that this was she and the woman on the other end expressed surprise. Already warning flags went off. See previous to me there was a four year reign of a male director, who had many many crazy part-timers come and go (to the continual mirth of the other departments).

"I sent out an application a week ago and I was wondering.."

Now at this point I knew exactly what was going on and behaved rather poorly. This is not the first time on of the previous part-timers have called looking for work, although the last one applied when there was an actual job opening.

"I sent you an e-mail." Which I had, very politely I thought considering the non-thoughtfulness of her application.

"Oh! I didn't get it...that's weird..." She trailed off. Now whether or not she got it doesn't matter. If you want a job, you're supposed to impress your prospective boss, not passive-aggressively accuse them of not doing something. I sort of lost my cool at this point as I just wanted her off the phone.

"We don't currently have a position open."

"Oh, but if you have one in the future..." I hate this expression. It sounds so desperate and sad. There is no position open, I'm not even being particularly patient with you. Why would campaign for future non-existent positions?

"This is a rather small library." I decided to state.

"I know, I was there when it was set up..." DING. DING. DING. You worked for us once and no longer do.

I'm not sure what I said after this exactly, but it was something along the lines of:

"We aren't anticipating any openings. Goodbye."

I know it was unnecessarily rude and abrupt. I do have some guilt about that. However,s he violated major rules of a job hunt that I know about as a first time job holder:

1. Don't send out mass mailings to places that aren't actively soliciting applications. Someone has to deal with that mail and you waste a lot of people's time just so you can find out what you already knew: they have no openings.

2. Unless you have insured that a. your old boss still works at there and b. they still like you, don't assume you have an 'in'.

3. Even if you assume you do have an 'in', call first do not send an application. People change jobs. Also? If you didn't know the person changed jobs (in this case over a year ago) you don't know them well enough to have an 'in'.

4. If you do violate 1 and you don't hear back, don't call! This is not a calling situation. If there was an actual ad you were replying to, by all means call. Why why why would call after sending in an unsolicited resume to a place you haven't worked in at least five years?

I am not excusing my own behavior as there is never cause to be as rude as I was to this woman. In my ideal world, I am Donna Reade sweet to everyone. This woman crawled under my skin for some reason. Oh well, I hope she finds gainful employment elsewhere with her disorganized campaign.

As Numerous as Grains of Sand on a Beach

I have a teeny tiny obsession which was started and enflamed by Geo and Law. There is a family, wholesome and strange known as The Duggers.

The Duggers have (as of this week) 17 children. For those of you who have not seen the TLC specials, let me recap: Michelle and Jim Bob started out with normal ideas of family production and had three wee bairns. Then Michelle had a terrible miscarriage due to birth control and the Duggers decided to leave their child production up to God from then on. I believe Michelle has been almost continually pregnant since that decision.

All right, so they have a large family. Why am I so interested? Because these people are starting their own cult. Oh, that’s not what they say and they have no formal declarations of religion on their show beyond vague Christian sentiments, but its there between the lines. The children are all dressed in concealing clothing and the girls don’t seem to be allowed to cut their hair (Michelle’s is waist length). The overall appearance is very very conservative.

And then there’s The House. They bought a large track of land and built a house on it. Not just any house, but a house that you would buy in Costco if they sold houses. And? The kids still don’t have their own rooms. Because they wanted it that way. That’s right, the teenagers were choosing to live with their itty bitty siblings instead of having privacy. Which I suppose is admirable, but also rather spooky. The land that the house sits on is fairly massive and the hope is that the children will settle their families on it. It’s going to be a Dugger Compound.

Of course, these kids are not allowed to attend public school where they might learn things and have experience outside of their family. No, they are home schooled on top of everything else. I have nothing against home schooling for children who have difficulties dealing with that environment, but from all appearances the Duggers would do reasonable well in public school. And would it really be a crime to know life outside of your own family, even if it is made up of seventeen people? On all the TLC specials, the Duggers insist that all the kids have outside interests and social lives, but there is never any evidence of this. Any depiction of ‘outside’ interests always includes the rest of the family.

Recently they went on vacation in an RV with a trailer. The boys slept in the trailer and the girls in the RV. It was a pleasant enough Discovery special with lots of inserted health facts as it was after all, Discovery Health airing it. While on an airplane over the Grand Canyon, all but three of them threw up. The narrator commented that that couldn’t keep this family down and moved merrily along. It was an oddly paced moment. Other then that the trip looked uneventful enough considering.

I have watched similar shows about families with tons of kids and none have captured me like the Dugger specials. Normally, I would reserve my opinions about their choices and appreciate the fact that America is home to so many different kinds of folk. Except they have opened themselves to these sorts of things by allowing cameras into their homes. Once you put your life on TV, you are forfeiting your privacy, even if your intent is to glorify your life style.

Now, to be fair if this was a hundred years ago, no one would blink at this family except to comment on their low mortality rate. Perhaps the Duggers are just anachronistic and should simply remind us of more pastoral times. Perhaps they even represent a dying America full of DIY projects and a can-do attitude.

So it’s probably just the cynic in me that looks at the happy group and thinks ‘incipient cult’ or ‘messianic complex’ or ‘God expects you to make your own choices, that’s why we all have free will. Please do not blame him for you having 17 kids.’

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

The Dos and Don'ts of Monologues

There are many choices you will have to make when you interview for a new job. Should I wear a suit or something more informal? How many copies of my resume should I bring? How early should I leave to arrive on time?

You would only ask which monologue to bring if you were auditioning for a play. Why, oh why then, did the person I interviewed today bring on the monologue? He talked for twenty-five consecutive minutes in answer to a question that require little more then yes or no. Due to this enchanting behavior, none of the people interviewing this gentleman decided in his favor and that's putting the matter lightly.

So here are the dos and don'ts of monolgues from someone known to produce them herself:

DO share a funny story, amusing anecdote with friends and familiar colleagues.

DO NOT ever use the phrase 'You'll find this really interesting...' If you have to tell your audience it's interesting, then it's probably not.

DO be self-effacing (not self-abusing) and offer gentle morals along with your story.

DO NOT ever use the phrase 'God-give ability' when referring to yourself in an interview.

DO pay attention to things like people's eyelids and hand gestures. Most people are too polite for their own good and won't out right tell you that they would stab themselves repeatedly in the face if it would make you shut up.

DO NOT recount stories about your cat/dog/ferret/goldfish unless specifically asked to do so. Same goes for babies actually though they get a slight bit more leeway as they will one day be actual people.

DO respond when people ask you something even if interrupts your totally awesome story of amazingness.

And please, please, please keep a mental clock. Ask yourself, have I been talking for more then fifteen minutes straight without anyone interjecting? Unless you are teaching a class, talking to your dog/cat/ferret/goldfish or giving your complete medical history to a particularly compassionate nurse, stop. Take a breath and let someone else interject. I assure you by that time they will find something to say.

I'm sure you are a fascinating person, but the world is a busy place and we don't all got the time for fascinating.


Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Modern American Courtesans

This week I read Sex and the King which was a gossipy, jumbled book dealing with king's mistresses and watched Dangerous Beauty, a great movie about a courtesan. Both the book and the movie suggested to one extent or another that these positions were so important because there was very little other choice of employment for women in those bygone years.

And I thought, surely in these days of enlightened feminism and such, courtesans no longer exist though their seedier partners still stalk the streets. If you're rich and unhappily married one has so many other choices that they certainly wouldn't have to hook up with a prostitute. That's what gold diggers are for, surely?

As I was musing on this, I turned on E! to discover Girls Next Door playing. There they were the modern American courtesans. The concept behind this show for those not familiar is to follow three of Hugh Hefner's girlfriends through their charmed, glamorous lives. Just like mistresses and courtsans of old, they are lavished with expensive gifts solely for existing. They are installed in a large manor house and expected to always be pretty and perky. The three girls are never shown with a hair out of place and when one of them says something unintelligent, only the show's editor seems to notice or care.

I applaud these three girls. While I consider myself a feminist and applaud women succeeding in the workplace, there are always going to be those who don't fit in. These women took their best assets and gained the highest position for their kind. Hugh's girlfriends are well taken care of and will most likely enjoy the benefits long after their looks have faded. Positions will be found for them when they are no longer quite perky enough and they will continue on.

Some of the kings' mistresses didn't have it nearly as good.


Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

I toooooold you so!

All right, the Book has been read, the thoughts have been tumbled and I'm ready to fulfill my promise to you all. WARNING: This post contains spoilers for the new Harry Potter book. If you do not want to know what happens go here and I would also recommend stuffing cotton in your ears.

That being said, onto the predictions:

1. Harry will not die. I would love if he did and if J.K. does kill him I will applaud her forever. It would certainly save her a lot of annoying fans begging for another books. I doubt that the publishing industry will allow it though as they would prefer for Harry to live on so they can market endless books about him ala Star Wars.

Correct! He lives though she does toy with killing him. It had a very Alcott-esque feeling actually. You know, how at the end of Jo's Boys she actually puts in how she wants to have all the characters swallowed whole by an earthquake just to guarantee they can never plague her again? It read a bit like that.



2. Snape will be vindicated. I base this on the fact that he has been vindicated every other time. In every single book Harry thinks he's the bad guy until lo it is proven that the evil professor was once again saving his bacon.

Right again. It comes out that Snape helped Harry because he had been in love with Lily his whole life. Duh. J.K. reads fanfic.

3. Snape will die. His sin of killing Dumbledore will not be allowed to pass even if he did it to
save everything ever.

Yep, he dies. Dies horribly right on the brink of saving everything ever. I miss him already.

4. Ron and Hermione will kiss, possibly many times, against all the laws of attraction ever. I love Ron. Hermione, despite frequent reminders that I am like her in so many ways, makes my skin crawl and eyeballs itch. I hope Ron hooks up with Neville, shocking everyone.

Ron hooks up with Neville....only in my head. I can't remember whether or not the two actually do a full on lip lock, but since they wind up with kids together, I assume at some point they indulged. Because I can't remember, I will give you 1/2 an embarrassing moment for this one.


5. For the seventh time, no one will be gay, Jewish or have sex. Seventeen year olds never ever have sex. EVER. Nor do they celebrate Passover or look at same sex naughty bits. EVER.


I must be psychic or something.

6. There will be someone with a ridiculous accent.

I was actually worried about this one, but Viktor resurfaces just long enough to spare me. Thank you, random character that no one cares about who returns to reveal a Significant Plot Point. Oh and of course, there's Fleur. Speaking English with a French accent means you never get to pronounce the first letter of a word. EVER.

7. Ok, this is the wild and crazy one. I believe that Dumbledore took Polyjuice potion and looking like Snape was the one who actually made the promise to Narcissa. Off the wall, but I figured I'd throw one out there.

Totally wrong on this one, which I realized pretty much after I posted it. 1 1/2 embarrassing stories so far.

8. Oh, R.A.B. how you make the internet shiver and quake. The obvious answer is that its Regulus Black. My prediction? It's Regulus. I'd like to think that she'd pull one out of left field, but this is an author who calls her werewolf character Wolfy McWolf Wolf and her black dog character Black Dog.

Right again and I think she anticipated that everyone had figured it out, so she rushed by it so quickly that it barely happened. From BIG MYSTERY to that three line explanation only a few chapters into the book.

9. Someone will be annoying. Too easy.

So many cases...I was surprised that I wasn't annoyed more. As usual, I'm mostly annoyed at J.K. She killed Lupin off-screen. Dobby gets a funeral, Hedwig is mourned over for chapters, but the werewolf? Bumped out of existence. Maybe it was her apology to Snape.


10. Dumbledore will rise from the dead. She loves her animal symbols. LOVES. And there is so much freakin' phoenix imagery surrounding Dumbledore that if he doesn't rise from the dead, J.K. fails Anton Chekhov's cardinal rule: "If a gun is on the mantle in the first act, it must go off in the third."

I'm going to say another 1/2 on this one because while he doesn't rise from the dead he does make a long appearance involving a resurrection stone. Also, what happened to Fawkes? Did they just set him on fire around when they were killing off minor charchters for the hell of it?


11. The last line will be pedantic, trite and/or completely weird. Ending something that long on a perfect note is nearly impossible.

His scar hadn't hurt in nineteen years. ....that's not a last line. Thanks, come back and try again later. It's an epilogue. You already told us it's nineteen years later. And that apparently it was more important that we know that Harry had kids. Although, I will admit that the fact he named his kid Albus Severus made me happy. Nice touch. I forgive the dumbass line.

My score: 9/11
J.K.'s Score: $8.3 million and counting.

Paying Up

1. I used to cheat at board games. I only stopped in high school when people became smart enough to catch me. Before this happened my record was stealing nearly four thousand dollars from the monopoly bank without anyone being the wiser. the funny thing is that I actually got much better at playing after I stopped cheating.

2. I had to wear a girdle for the one and only lead role I had in a play. The director wanted me to wear a slinky gold lame dress. I looked like a sausage and he told me I would have 'buy some support garments'. Good times. I also wore a red wig. These pictures have been destroyed to protect the embarrassed.

Whew! Good thing the book was mostly predictable!

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Fruit Fly

n An attractive female who hangs around gay males. The same as a fag hag but attractive. - Urban Dictionary

I am a Fruit Fly (well, maybe I'm a fag hag, but I really have an objection to the word fag and I like to think I'm not so hideous as to be known as a hag). Not only am I a Fruit Fly, I am unavoidably, since birth, a Fruit Fly. Today, I would like to recount the time line of this special trait to thank the young man that told me my hair was fabulous in that special way.

1986- I am now old enough that my hair is starting to significantly curl. The compliments only come from old ladies and gay men. This is a trend that will continue to present day.

1994- I read Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern which has been incorrectly shelved in the Young Adult section. My love affair with fantasy leaps to adult novels and I read my first gay love scene. I never turn back.

1997- I meet and date my first boyfriend. We will be together for two years (summers only) and he will give me the most fabulous piece of jewelry one thirteen year old ever gave to another. I break up with him over disturbing reports that he asks to be beaten up by the other boys when he's only wearing a towel.

1999- The Big Gay Summer. One of my peers, Twinkletoes encounters another boy Obi ( so named for his obsession with Ewan McGregor. Seriously, he wore a padawan braid the whole summer.) They fall deeply into lust. And I am asked by Twinkletoes for advice. To clarify, I had had no contact at all with Twinkletoes previously. He singled me out of dozens of other potential confidantes. He never gave a reason for this choice.

I become friends with Genie (name based on really incriminating photos). Genie will remain my most fabulously awesome friend to present day. He comes out to everyone in camp that summer and we are soon noted as being thick as thieves. Twinkletoes does not ask him for advice unless it is through me. Somehow it is assumed that I know more about being gay then the other gay kid. I can't make this crap up.

2000- My mother and father finally accept that Genie is gay and we will never date. Why must I spend so much time with gay men? My mother continuously asks. They come to me, say I. I prove this:

Setting: Shoe Store
My Mood: Terrible, see Setting. I hate shopping, especially in expensive shoe stores. Depressive angry funk of a teenager.

Myself: ::hating life::
Mom: ::obliviously shops for shoes::
Salesman: Hi, can I help you?
Myself: No, thanks.
Salesman: Oh, just here with your mom?
Myself: Yes.
Salesman: I go shopping all the time with my mom too. She takes forever! Now, I just blow her off, that's what being an adult is about, right?
Mom: ::continues to shop, finally returns to where I'm sitting::
Myself: Have you tried compost?
Salesman: We have! But the property isn't what it could be. My partner thinks we should just move.
::Mom checks out, we leave the store::
Mom: Oh my god! They just FIND you.
Myself: I know!

Today: Young man walks into the library sees me at the reference desk and squees about my hair. His hair is dyed pink.


There's more, but this post is already far too long. Do any of you have fun fruit fly or fruit stories? Share in the comments!

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

Empty Nest Guilt

Over the next few months, I will be checking out apartments and hopefully launching myself into living away from the parents. This was the plan pretty much from the day I moved back in under a year ago. I had finished grad school and wanted to save up some cushion money.

The year went a lot better then I thought it would actually. I have a very good relationship with my parents, always have even in the bitter horrible early teen years (I stopped showering for a while, how they made it through that little phase I'll never know). I have some issues with them, of course, because who doesn't? But I don't think they messed up in any irreversible way either which considering their backgrounds is beyond impressive. For the most part they've been loving, supportive and growing more awesome as I become a real adult type person.

So why do I want to move out?

The real, not at all funny, reason is that I can tell that if I stay I will stop thinking for myself. My parents are very reasonable and very persistent people. I'm an only child. The combination is that they can often talk me around to their way of seeing things without either of us realizing this is what is happening. I stop functioning in a lot of ways and it isn't fun.

But I feel guilty leaving. Mom's starting a new job that will make her commute much more complicated and much longer. If I was still living at home, I could drive her to the train station in the morning to ease this a little. Not that I would stay home for this, but I actually felt so guilty that I bought my mother an IPod Nano. That's right, it wasn't even her birthday, anniversary or mother's day or hannakah. Just bought it for her. The worst bit is going to be teaching her to use it. Oy Gevault.

So there it is, I have empty nest guilt. Maybe it had a name before, but I'm giving it a new one.


Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

why all woman's studies classes should include John Varley

One of the best things about science-fiction is the gender bending. I would argue that Virginia Wolff's Orlando is science fiction and I would start with that. If you haven't read it, add it to your list of classics to read before you die. Not because it will inherently improve your life, but because it will make your mind drip out of your ears! In a good way!

Lots of great authors in science-fiction have tackled the lines between men and women face on. And the great thing about it, is a lot of them were men! And they were compassionate and insightful! Not Heinlein, who I hate more then...well a lot of other writers, but again that's for another post.

Take for instance, Asimov's most beloved characters Dr.Susan Calvin. She was not pretty or huge bosomed and she chose work over being a wife and mother. Described as generally crabby and nasty, she was one of the first depicted female scientists that wasn't the sidekick to the male scientist. LOVE THE SUSAN.

And then...oh and then in modern science fiction there is the best beloved, most awesome, most perfect gender crazed writer who I cannot praise enough from here to the end of time: John Varley. He has a universe in which many of his short stories and novels are placed referred to as the Eight Worlds. Within the Eight Worlds, gender swapping surgery is nearly as easy as buying clothes. Not only does he explore the psychological and sociological implications of such a thing, he does over a long period of time! He starts a few short stories about the beginning days of this surgery as the first non-transsexuals start to switch back and forth. By the Golden Globe (the latest in the Eight Worlds universe) appears, switching is so common as to be unremarkable and it has recreated a lot basic attitudes in people as a whole.

Brilliant stuff. I would much rather have read some of that instead of "The Cyborg Manifesto" which I had to read in every single class I was in that discusses Women and/or Gender Studies in any way. If you, dear reader, can make it all the way through that essay and then tell me what it means, I will make you the bake good of your choice.

Catch you on the flipside,
CGL

My Bestest Online Friend

This is another birthday post, albeit a shorter one because I haven't ferreted out all her embarrassing secrets even though I've known her for nearly three years. 007, as you all will come to know and love her, and I have never actually met. We became friends while playing the same online role playing game (rpg for those in the know). I have nearly five hundred game logs since that point where no one was involved, but the two of us. We have great synergy and milk off the wall characters for everything they are worth. 007 was going through hard times when we met, but she has blossomed through that and is now working on her doctorate and engaged to a very handsome man. If you ever have a chance to meet her, ask her about all her volunteer work because she'll probably not come out and tell you. She's done enough for fifteen people and considers it a vacation. Crazyness, I tell you.

Happy Birthday, 007!


Catch you on the flipside,
Chic Geek Librarian

My Little Song and Harry Potter Speculation

Today, I want to make a few speculations about the coming out of Harry Potter.... I mean the new book coming out of course. ::cough::gay::cough::. I am not a rabid Potter fan, never read the first four books and haven't enjoyed the two I did read. J.K Rowling is an odd writer for me, in that I love her characters and world, but hate her style and plots. I think she creates some really great foundation material and for that reason, I do read the books. And I do read them the day they come out because otherwise, inevitably someone will tell me what happens and I will lose all interest in reading them at all. Usually being spoiled will not prevent from reading a book, but it is hard to maintain interests for seven hundred pages of teenage boy whining.


The reason that I am speculating here is in deepest hope to be able to sing the following song (to the 1812 Overture):
IIIIIII told you so, I told you so, I hate to say I told you so, buuuuuuuuuut I told you so.


It's obnoxious and wonderful. And here is my promise to, for every point I get wrong I will reveal one embarrassing fact about myself.


On to the predictions:


1. Harry will not die. I would love if he did and if J.K. does kill him I will applaud her forever. It would certainly save her a lot of annoying fans begging for another books. I doubt that the publishing industry will allow it though as they would prefer for Harry to live on so they can market endless books about him ala Star Wars.


2. Snape will be vindicated. I base this on the fact that he has been vindicated every other time. In every single book Harry thinks he's the bad guy until lo it is proven that the evil professor was once again saving his bacon.


3. Snape will die. His sin of killing Dumbledore will not be allowed to pass even if he did it to
save everything ever.


4. Ron and Hermione will kiss, possibly many times, against all the laws of attraction ever. I love Ron. Hermione, despite frequent reminders that I am like her in so many ways, makes my skin crawl and eyeballs itch. I hope Ron hooks up with Neville, shocking everyone.


5. For the seventh time, no one will be gay, Jewish or have sex. Seventeen year olds never ever have sex. EVER. Nor do they celebrate Passover or look at same sex naughty bits. EVER.


6. There will be someone with a ridiculous accent.


7. Ok, this is the wild and crazy one. I believe that Dumbledore took Polyjuice potion and looking like Snape was the one who actually made the promise to Narcissa. Off the wall, but I figured I'd throw one out there.


8. Oh, R.A.B. how you make the internet shiver and quake. The obvious answer is that its Regulus Black. My prediction? It's Regulus. I'd like to think that she'd pull one out of left field, but this is an author who calls her werewolf character Wolfy McWolf Wolf and her black dog character Black Dog.


9. Someone will be annoying. Too easy.


10. Dumbledore will rise from the dead. She loves her animal symbols. LOVES. And there is so much freakin' phoenix imagery surrounding Dumbledore that if he doesn't rise from the dead, J.K. fails Anton Chekhov's cardinal rule: "If a gun is on the mantle in the first act, it must go off in the third."


11. The last line will be pedantic, trite and/or completely weird. Ending something that long on a perfect note is nearly impossible.


All right, that's it for my guesses. That's eleven potential embarrassing things you might find out about me. Come on J.K. don't fail me now!


Catch you on the flipside,
Chic Geek Librarian

Feel this!

On a completely non-scifi note, I want to talk about touching things and the complete ridiculous level of my love of doing so. I don't mean that love of touching things you aren't supposed to, I've never been a big-red-candylike-button-must-touch-before-death! sort of person though I have always been an adding a ridiculous-amount-of-dashes kind of person.

I love to feeeeeeeeel things. Soft things, grainy things, bumpy things, smooth things...you name it and I like to touch it. Ever since I was a kid running my fingers over the wall in the hall while walking to class until my fingers budged and later mucking through the mud until my mother was nearly weak with tears over my splashed overalls, I have loved to feeeeeel things.

My father who is very very experianced with kids and even a doctor ( not a medical kind) of kidology, decided in an unrelated way that I had Hypotonia. Usually hypotonia is related to children with severe developmental problems related to Down's Syndrome, Muscular dystrophy and other frightening maladies. I did develop on the slow side both emotionally and physically and I did have terrible motor coordination, but I was not ever officially diagnosed with anything other then Perpetual Snobbery and General Idiocy.

One of the traits of low tone children is having a love for feeling things and also needing lots and lots of hugs. I'm talking chronic, addict like need for hugs. If you think hug addiction is funny, just try to get a hug out of the average teacher who has had the "don't hug children or you are a pervert" speech every year since they started working. Or having friends who had to hug or touch at all.

That's why I love Geo and Law who allow me to hug all over them and pet their hair even though Law would rather have her eyelashes slowly plucked out then let anyone touch her hair. I'm Lennie from Of Mice and Men to her, but she puts up with it anyway.

And then there's the Nox with his gloriously long flowing hair that he even occasionally lets be braid with the toleration only exhibited by a man who gets laid regularly.

Anyway, I tell you all of this to tell you why my lunch hour yesterday was torturous. You see, to satisfy my ever yearning needs for feeling things I taught myself to knit and despite my bad motor coordination (thanks again hypotonia!), can manage some fairly decent afghans and such. Then yesterday on the hottest day with the most humidity ever (so bad that my hair was like onto the cotton ball), I got a great idea for the most beautiful blanket ever and went to Michael's on my lunch break. I gleefully touched yarn for fifteen glorious minutes before finding the perfect, cheapest yarn ever!

Oh the delirium! The dreams of clacking needles and glorious fluffy blue blanket! All. The. Damn. Touching! So happy...

Only to remember that it was approximately 2,567 degrees Fahrenheit outside, not blanket making time. I regretfully put the yarn back, half my lunch break already vanished.

And then I told Nox where I'd gone and he of the flowing red locks nodded knowingly and said "Ah, so you went and Touched things." I could practically hear the capital T people.

My ill-kept secret is out....so can I pet you, dear reader?


Catch you on the flipside,
Chic Geek Librarian

Maureen Cummings: I'm just trying to be honest. That's what friends do.

-Center Stage, Law Penny's sad movie obsession

This is a very special Happy Birthday! post for Law Penny. In order to celebrate her birthday, she gets today's entire post. And don't laugh too hard Geo, you're next.

I met Law on the first day of moving into our attic. We spent an entire year together in the attic of an eighty year old house. It creaked, it squeaked and ominous unexplained things happened constantly. It was a bonding experiance.

Things everyone should know about Law that explain just how awesome and loveable she is:

1. This girl is intensely smart. You know, one of those people that you start talking to and realize you are conversationally way over your head because she could mentally beat the shit out of you without breaking a brain sweat. Which makes 2 and 3 even funnier

2. In one of her first librarian classes, she was asked to do research on a hobby. And she couldn't think of anything! Seriously, girl had no hobbies or interests according to her. I pointed out that she had approximately four gazillion old maps in her ten by ten room and she took it from there, but seriously, for ten minutes she was dumbfounded.

3. She is forever and permanently lost. Bad sense of direction doesn't quite cover it. We lived in the same neighborhood for a year and she very frequently had no idea how to get to the supermarket that was five minutes from our house.

4. She has blue eyes of DOOM and wears blue and has blue sheets just so they look even bluer. It's crazy.

5. Despite hating chocolate, which is something I will never ever understand, she love cupcakes. They are her kryptonite. If you put one even close to her, it will be consumed within a matter of minutes. Cheesesticks also make up 99% of her diet, which leads to six...

6. Early in our friendship we were having one of those very 'deep' conversations where you decide what kind of animal that person would be. I chose kangamouse for her and it stuck like glue.

7. She picked out my birthday card six months before my actual birthday, held onto it and managed to get it to me exactly on the day of which given the postal system in my neighborhood is insane. How do you get a better friend that that?


So happy birthday Law Penny! You rock my tiny world.

Catch you on the flipside,
Chic Geek Librarian

"Patriotism is easy to understand in America; it means looking out for yourself by looking out for your country"

-Calvin Coolidge, which is oddly appropriate considering he was a president revered among political scientists as a man who knew how to do nothing really effectively.

Today, I want to talk to you about America, The United States of. This would have been a more appropriate post yesterday, but I was to busy being patriotic by eating a lot of meat and watching my boyfriend injure himself while playing a sport known as 'fenceball' while inebriated. I think this is a very appropriate way to celebrate the 4th. After all, that great American family the Kennedys are big believers in drunken sports.

All that aside, I want to talk about the U.S.A. This is the time of year where a lot of people talk about forefathers and signings that they vaguely remember from history class and how great it is to be an American. I don't disagree. I love my country and, cheesy song lyrics aside, I am proud to be an American.

I am not always proud of our decisions and I am not always proud of our politicians. Let us be clear: America is not it's president! Though things have quieted down substantially over the last few years, there is still a lot of confusion about the general populace on this matter. A little after 9/11, I was repeatedly accused of being unpatriotic because I did not support the actions that immediately followed.

George W. Bush is not America. If this were the case, we would be living in a monarchy and an unpleasantly strict one at that. Disagreeing with him will not make you 'unamerican' (I'm looking at you Hilary Clinton, looking with laser beams shooting from my eyes! Don't try to cover it up now, we all remember.)

I love my country because it took in my grandfather's family when no one else would and sheltered my grandmother after she escaped from Auschwitz. I love my country because it chose democracy even it is often confused about what that means and how it works. I love my country because no matter how much anyone wants it to be so, Bush will eventually step down and the next person installed to potentially fail or succeed in his place.

I love my country because two hundred and some odd years ago, a whole bunch of British guys stuck in a strange land became guerrilla war fighting, John Locke plagiarizing, turkey loving rebels and decided to change the way things were with swords, guns and pens.

Independence rocks and I'm glad we've got it. Rock on America, rock on.


Catch you on the flipside,
Chic Geek Librarian