Blah

I feel so blah today. I shouldn't even post when my head feels this fuzzy and bereft of thought, when I'm so tired and cranky, and fantasizing about moving out of my house and just living in a small room with a pillow, a blanket and a hotplate. It's taken every ounce of energy I have today to pretend that I'm mentally capable of doing my job today.

How can I shake myself out of this?

As long as I get SOMETHING

A phone conversation I had today:

Sister-in-law: Hey, I'm calling you from the Humane Society. We're here with dad, picking out a new dog, and there is a litter of Dachshund mix puppies here, and Monkey is dying to get one, she kept asking me and asking me to call you, and I figured I'd call you to put an end to the begging, so I'm putting her on the phone.

Monkey: Mom, oh, mom, please, please, please can I get a puppy?!?

Me: No

Monkey: Please, mommy, please, please, I really, really, really, really want a puppy! I promise I'll take care of it!

Me: No

Monkey: But why? Sweetness has her own dog, I want my own dog, please, mommy, they're so cute!

Me: No

Monkey: I promise I'll do everything, mommy, oh, please, please, please, please, please, pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?!? They're so cute, I have to have my own puppy!!! Please, please, please (etc.)

Me: Monkey, a dog is a lot of work. You're about to go back to school and you're going to be very busy, and you're not going to have time to take care of a dog. And it's not all cute and fun, you have to clean up their pee and poop and puke, and you have to train them to behave otherwise they are unpleasant to be around. So, no, you may not have a dog.

Monkey: Can I get a kitty instead?

President Obama

I tend to be extremely cynical about politics. Tonight, my hope was rekindled and my cyncism died, when I heard Barack Obama deliver the keynote speech at the Democratic National Convention.

I have never felt so proud to be a Democrat, and so proud to be an American, and I've never felt so hopeful that our country will recover from this dark period under the rule of the guy who lost the last election.

Bloggered

Since the last update to Blogger, I find it difficult to post from work because we are on a Microsoft browser, and Blogger suggests a Mozilla browser for optimal functioning. I have Firefox on my home PC, but between me, Loki, and Sweetness, I find it difficult to have the time to post while at home. (Monkey is not interested in using the computer yet. It requires far too much sitting still.)

That's why I haven't posted very much lately.

I did watch some of the convention last night - I caught Carter's speech, and I must echo Jon Stewart - Carter was the Velvet Hammer. I did have to suffer through that pussy David Brooks whining that Carter didn't mention the boogeyman during his speech, because everyone knows that the most serious problem facing this country right now is Pussy-Ass Brooks' fear of Islamo-fascists who want to kill us, never mind the context, never mind the loss of allies, never mind the completely incompetent pursuit of the War on Terror under Bush.

Uh, Mr. Brooks? Ever occur to you that we might find more success fighting the war on terror when we bring in the rest of the world? Or are those glasses for myopia?

Sheesh - why do we have to have pundits to spin the speeches for us, anyway? Maybe they haven't taken a good look at the ratings, but the people paying attention to the convention are probably already pretty well informed, and we don't need anyone, even liberal pundits, to interpret the speeches for us.

What are you listening to?

A couple of weeks ago I saw Ben Folds, Rufus Wainwright and Guster in concert. Ben Folds is a longstanding love affair of mine, I never, ever tire of listening to any of his (both Ben Folds Five and solo) CDs, and with the exception of maybe one or two songs, I never skip a song on any of his CDs either. I missed him the last time he came around Connecticut because Monkey and I were at Disneyworld, so I was not going to miss him this time. He delivered, as usual - huge energy, very funny, gonzo piano playing, audience participation - he is definitely an artist who must be seen live to be fully appreciated.

I was only familiar with a couple of songs by Guster, and I had only heard Rufus Wainwright's cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah.

Guster was a pretty tight band, with great vocals, but since I wasn't too familiar with their songs it was hard to get into it. Their drummer plays mostly hand drums, which was kind of cool.

Rufus Wainwright was sort of fascinating. He has massive stage presence, and he's very funny, but his music was so mellow it was like we were being lulled to sleep. He also mumbles, so I couldn't understand what he was singing. But the melodies were so beautiful I decided I would have to check him out.

So I bought his CD Want One, and there is a lot to like. The first song on the CD (I think it's called "What A World") is built on the melody from Ravel's Bolero. Right now, my other favorite song is "Vibrate"

My phone's on vibrate for you.
Electroclash is karaoke, too.
I tried to dance to Britney Spears,
I guess I'm getting on in years

The music underneath is similar to the bass line of that famous song from the opera Carmen (sorry, not hugely into opera so I have no idea what that is - for people from my era who are reading this, you would recognize the bass line from a filmed bit on Sesame Street where an orange gets all gussied up and sings "l'amour").

I will still listen to something more upbeat on my way into work (One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces makes for an uplifting start to my day), but I am intrigued by the work of Mr. Wainwright and would like to subscribe to his newsletter.

Fear

When I was a small child, I was afraid of a lot of things. I would curl into a ball on the couch when my mother vacuumed, afraid I would get sucked in; I had to be out of the bathtub before my mother could turn the drain on, for fear I would go spiraling through the tiny holes; I would lie on the floor of the car covering my head when we went through the car wash.

When I was a little older, I was afraid that Reagan was going to annihiliate the planet with nuclear weapons, that no one would ever notice that I was getting beat up at home, that I would never have my first kiss or sex.

As an adult, I have conquered these fears. (I don't fear GWB so much as get fucking pissed off by him). But I am currently grappling with a completely unexpected, throwback to my small childhood years kind of fear: I cannot jump into the pool at my swim lessons. Every time our teacher asks us to jump, I stand at the edge, sure that this time I will muster up the courage to just do it, and every time, I step back, holding my churning stomach. I can dive in, no problem, but I cannot step off the edge of the pool.

Back to School

My first attempt at post-high school education ended when I found myself broke and pregnant. All ended well, of course, I was pregnant with my dear Sweetness, and although I'm not well off or even comfortable, I can pay my bills every month.

So last night, more than 15 years after I graduated from high school, I signed up for college again - community college, this time, since it's all I can afford. Despite all the time I've spend thinking about it, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up, so I decided to major in something I love dearly but have mostly pursued as an avocation - Music. My current plan is to get an Associate's in Music and then transfer to one of the Music Education programs at one of the 4 year colleges in this neck of the woods.

Sweetness and Monkey are thrilled that we will all go back to school together this fall. Loki is proud now, but I'm sure he'll complain a little when I'm actually in class for 3 hours or more a week.

New (temporary) additions to the family

We currently have two monarch caterpillars in full chrysalis construction mode sitting on a milkweed plant in our kitchen. We put netting over the plant to protect them from the cats. The caterpillars are more fascinating than I thought they would be. They basically ate for several days in a row - and that's all they did, all day long, and all night long, too. It was astonishing to see how much they ate. Then they both found a spot on the plan and compacted themselves (one of them was about 2 inches long, the other about 3 inches long, and they both compacted themselves to about 1 inch), and then curled into a "J" shape, and they seem to be secreting a substance from one end of their bodies.

When they emerge from their chrysali, we will bring them to Magic Wings butterfly conservatory in So. Deerfield, MA.

At least they live 3000 miles away

Loki and I took a week off from work because his mother came to town.

It was like spending a week with a Stepford Wife and her Lord and Master. Her husband picks out her clothes, chooses her meals, and makes all the decisions. She is allowed to make respectful input, but from what I saw, he always gets his way.

It was absolutely infuriating. At the end of every day, Loki and I and his sister would get together and contemplate the demise of the woman they used to know.

Did I mention that Stepford-in-law and her husband are die-hard Republicans? They are completely unable to see anything from anyone else's point of view. I'm a die hard Democrat, but I can see the point of view of many Republicans, and I can even see the appeal of the Republican philosophy, although I find it to be reprehensibly selfish. The first night they were here, the California gubernatorial election came up, and I questioned their support of the groping Austrian actor. Stepford-in-law mentioned that they were really voting against Bustamante, and she started to bring up his involvement with MECHA, and I slapped her down, hard. I ended my rant by asking why Bustamante's extracurricular activities in college were something to take seriously but she couldn't take Bush's activities when he was the same age (and older) seriously. No answer.

We went to Watch Hill for a day at the beach last week, and on the way home, I drifted off in the car, and when I awoke, I heard Burt railing about gay marriage, and how their church may have to split because of the issue. I couldn't hold my tongue, and I suggested that perhaps the church should heed the wisdom of Solomon: one one side, you have people who would rather tear the church asunder than not get their way, and on the other side you have people who simply want to be included and live their life. He didn't get it. In his mind, no reality can exist where gay people are not a problem.

Well, at least we only have to see them every other year.

Kerry/Edwards 2004

Kerry has announced his pick for the VP slot, and it is Edwards. I look forward to seeing the good looking, youthful, optimistic and intelligent Edwards in a debate against the cyborg of death Dick Cheney.

What took me so long?

Hullaballoo with the incomparable Digby added to the blogroll.

Ow

Every other year or so, I make a vow to get more fit. And every time I do, I wonder why I don't just keep it up rather than suffer through the pain of getting my nicely entropied muscles moving again.

Because of my hip, I'm fairly limited in the exercise I can do. I can't do all those high impact aerobics, and I can't even sit cross-legged, so I don't know if I could manage yoga. I do some weight training, but it gets so boring that I always give it up (I do this at home, since I lost my free gym membership when I lost my last job.)

I never learned how to swim as a child, so about 5 years ago I signed up for adult swimming lessons. I kept it up for 3 years straight, even over the winter, swimming at least 3 times a week. And then I just stopped going. It all happened when I took my current job - my hours changed and I suddenly couldn't fit everything in.

Anyway, I once again made my fitness vow, so I signed up for adult swimming again, and last night I had my first lesson. Oh, man, I am sore. We did laps - forward crawl, backstroke, elementary backstroke, and then we started to learn the breaststroke. I don't think there is a muscle in my body that wasn't jarred awake. My eyebrow muscles hurt.

Congratulations, you lucky 50,000 winners!

I just can't express what a brilliant way this is to run Medicare. It's almost like the reality show of administration policy. Why care about who needs the drugs the most! Hey, the wheel of fortune has already given you cancer, you're due for a change of luck, right?

I just love this quote:

The program will mirror the 2006 drug benefit, meaning that there will be a gap in coverage — known as a doughnut hole — in which patients will bear the entire cost of the medicines. People still will have to spend about $5,300 a year for Gleevec, but that represents nearly 90 percent off the annual average wholesale price of $45,952, Medicare said.


"Only a cynical pessimist can look at a doughnut and complain about the hole," Thompson said.

If you happen to be poor, or even lower middle class, and you grumble about having to pay $5,300 a year, why, you're just a cynical pessimist. It's only $450 a month!

I'm Still Here

Sorry about my lack of posts, I've been on an impromptu vacation with the extended family. We went to Storyland in New Hampshire on biker weekend, had a big marital spat that everyone agrees is 100% Loki's fault (except for Loki (/me shaking my fist in his general direction), and deciding to turn down the job offer after I did some math and realized that even though my happiness is worth taking a pay cut for, GMAC and Citimortgage don't give a rat's ass about my happiness and I have to pay them every month, which I can't afford to do if I take the pay cut the new job offered me.

I also went to see the movie Dodgeball with Sweetness - I thought it was stupid but hilarious, she just thought it was stupid - I had a brief pregnancy scare (which was only scary because I'm still mad at Loki), bought a new pet for Monkey*, did a ton of laundry (and that may actually be literally a ton), and felt powerless and pissed off about world events.

*Monkey is a very responsible pet owner. We have several pets in the maurinsky household: Spud the Basset Hound, Cas and Mad our kitties, Fee the goldfish, and Flippers the beta fish. Monkey just got a second beta fish, Rainbow. She feeds all the animals, cleans the litter box, takes the dog for walks and plays with him, and cleans the fish bowls out weekly without being asked. I know it's because she's angling for a pony, but it ain't gonna happen. Maybe a rabbit or a guinea pig, but our yard isn't big enough for a Labrador, let along a pony.

Decisions

My 12 or so regular readers may know that I hate my job, and that I recently had a job interview. I got the job offer on Friday. It is less money than I make at the job that makes me dread waking up every morning, which didn't matter to me when I was being interviewed, but now that I've got the offer, I'm actually worried about making less.

I have another iron in the job fire as well, for a position at my previous place of employement, where I worked happily for 7 years before my department was relocated out of state. It's for a job I'm completely qualified for, but my old company is notorious for taking FOREVER to hire people, so I haven't heard anything yet.

I'm slightly reluctant to take the job offer because I would hate to pass up the potential job with my old company, but then I think about the bird in the hand being worth the two in the bush, and I wonder if I should just take the job and cut back on a few key areas.

Although the job offer is less money, my friend works there and says it's a great environment. There is also the potential for advancement, which does not exist at my current job. The benefits at my current job are extremely inexpensive (we piggyback on the state contract), so I'm sure there would be an increase in the cost of insurance. But I hate my current job so much.

I just don't know what to do.

The Clothes *HAD* No Emperor

We were so busy over the weekend that I didn't know Ronald Reagan was dead until late on Sunday. That prompts me to recommend a book I've enjoyed re-reading many, many times: The Clothes Have No Emperor by Paul Slansky.

While GWB might make Reagan seem like such a sweet old man in comparison, this book reminds me of the many reasons why I didn't like Reagan when he was president.

The church/porn connection

Seen at church yesterday: a regular attendee wearing a Penthouse magazine t-shirt.

Grinning like a fool

That was me on my way home from work tonight. There was a thunderstorm in the afternoon, and the sky was half sunny and half dark and stormy as I drove home. And every car on the road was kicking up rainbows. I may be cynical, but I'm not immune to the charms of rainbows!

The joys of owning your own business

Flea over at One Good Thing has a great post up that offers some insight into why someone would bother to open a small business in this world of big boxes and brand names.

I have my own dream of a small business. I took up knitting as a hobby when Sweetness was born (before it became the fad it is now, but certainly, I couldn't claim to be the first knitter, or probably even the millionth person to take up knitting.) I learned how to knit from a book, and thus I am a pretty poor knitter. Let me rephrase that...I'm actually a very good knitter, I'm just bad at making my knitting look like something that one would want to wear on their person. I could knit scarves and blankets all day long, but if the pattern requires counting, increasing, decreasing, or finishing, I can guarantee you it will never be completed by my hands.

Still, I love yarn, I love the actual act of knitting, and so I drew up some plans for my yarn shop, which I will call "Ripping Yarns", a name Loki really liked because it could be the same place where we could fulfill his small business dream of owning his own used Sci-Fi/Fantasy bookstore. (I realize it is also the name of a defunct BBC series that members of Monty Python wrote and performed on. More power to the name, I say.)

I am always scouting locations for the shop. I have drawn up floor plans, I designed some shelving that I want my father to build for the shop. I have lighting fixtures picked out. What I don't have is money, or any idea how one runs a retail business. I'm going to have to ask Flea how she ended up with her store.

Upcoming events

This Friday, Sweetness' drama group is doing an evening of one acts, although that is really a misnomer, since it's really an evening of 10 minute plays. Sweetness is directing "Funeral Parlor" by Christopher Durang, and she is appearing in a musical selection from the musical "Godspell". Next Monday is the Peforming Arts Awards ceremony, and we've already been notified that Sweetness will be receiving an award.

Next Tuesday, Monkey is going to perform "Hit Me With Your Best Shot"* at the first grade talent show. Loki and I were contemplating letting her perform Joan Jett's "Bad Reputation" (after our Freaks & Geeks marathon), but we decided that enough people at the school already think poorly of us. Monkey is planning to be a rock star when she grows up, and I think she has more talent than required to do it, so I'm a supportive mom. We don't expose her to Britney Spears or Jessica Simpson, and she is a die-hard fan of The Clash at age 7, so I think we are off to a good start.

Next Friday, Sweetness and I will be singing the songs of George & Ira Gershwin at our church choir pops concert. Last year we did Andrew Lloyd Webber, so this is a big step up, but I'm pushing for Cole Porter or Stephen Sondheim next year - although one of our tenors has requested an evening of TV show theme songs, so who knows what will happen.

*I think this is the only Pat Benatar song I like.