Under Lock and Key

My yard is in dire need of a little attention. Not that this is in any way a new state for my yard to find itself in; but usually when I start to notice the unkempt appearance of my lawn, I drag out my bright green Lawn Boy and give it a trim.

But my lawn mower is in the garage.
And my garage door won't open.

According to the Internet, broken automatic garage doors are a pretty common occurrence. Although, according to the same Internet, garages like mine are pretty uncommon, and, therefore not fixed by the ubiquitous emergency release lever on pretty much every model garage door opener.

I'm fairly certain that detached garages were typical in the 1950s when my house was built. The majority of the houses in my neighborhood have the same little detached huts at the end of their driveways. I'm guessing, back in the day, most of them had a simple swing-up door that you could easily flip open with one hand. But folks have modernized over the years, and about the time the neighborhood started adding vinyl siding and double-paned windows, most of the garages in my neighborhood had an automatic opener installed with a newer roll up door popular in the 80s.

Which would be fine...if my automatic door opener was working. Which it's not.
Which wouldn't be a big deal...if my garage had an entrance other than the roll up door. Which it doesn't.
Which wouldn't be a problem, if I had an emergency release lock in the garage door. Which I do.
Which would mean problem solved...if I had the key for it. Which I don't.

Needless to say, my unruly grass gets at least one more night to run riot, and my Saturday morning will be spent finding a key shop or locksmith who can make a key from the lock number and then praying to all that is holy that the emergency release cable that is supposed to be attached to said lock actually is. Attached, that is. Because otherwise?

Let's just say the Winged Monkey probably won't mind if I have to buy another chainsaw (since the one we already have is stored neatly...in the garage.)


Posted at 8:35 PM

When Worlds Collide

I'm used to the wacky shows that show up in our DVR list.  1,000 Ways to DieLocked Up Abroad.  Hell, I'll even watch the episodes of Swamp People the Winged Monkey records. ("Tree Shaker!!!")

What I am not prepared for is when his shows begin to invade my own...as in show up in the plot.

The last episode of Grey's Anatomy featured a couple who were doomsday preppers.  For those not familiar with the concept, doomsday prepping is code for OCD behavior centered on the idea of some type of apocalyptic event: hoarding food in case of global vegetable blight, building a bunker in case of a nuclear attack, preparing clean room sin your home so you are ready in the event of a global pandemic.  A TV show called, appropriately enough, Doomsday Preppers began last year that profiled preppers around the country and even rated them and gave them recommendations for approval.

There was the grandfather who built an "ark" out of old school buses he has buried, anticipating the need to house all of his community's children in case an apocalyptic event made the re-population of the planet necessary.

There was the militia-happy father who put his entire family through preparedness drills on a regular basis to guarantee they are ready in case of an economic meltdown that will lead to general anarchy.  This included sneaking up on his 12-year-old daughter (while she worked math problems at the board of her homeschool classroom) and pretending to hold her at gunpoint...until she, accroding to her father's training, disarmed her attacker.

There was the pandemic prepper who made her daughter-in-law stay in "quarantine" with her infant grandson for 3 hours as part of an outbreak drill... while the rest of family ate their Thanksgiving dinner.  She supplied all of her neighbors with rubber gloves and surgical gowns.

Needless to say, I tend to think the preppers would be better served by therapy rather than the "expert recommendations" they receive at the end of their segments. 

But it was amusing to see the WM perk up and pay attention when he heard the term "bug out bags" come out of the TV when I was watching Grey's.  Amusing and a bit unsettling.  I mean, it's one thing to watch the shows he records and make fun of them with him.  But I'd hate to think he would take their appearance in Primetime to be indicative of their validity.  The man already has a stash of clothing from he sophomore year in high school.  He has kept the framed Darth Vader watercolor his middle school friend gave him...for 30 years.

The last thing he needs is any encouragement to start stashing dehydrated food packs in the hollow core doors to our closets or stockpiling bottled water in the crawl space under our house.  How many gallons do you think he could fit under 1300 square feet?


Posted at 9:12 PM
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Kitchen Confidential

Cooking with Daisy, Tip #5:

Barbecue sauce makes everything better. Even slightly burned pork chops.

Recommended brand: Stubbs.




*For the record:

Cooking with Daisy, Tip #1:
When in doubt, order out.


Cooking with Daisy, Tip #2:
If I paid the delivery guy, I get credit for cooking.


Cooking with Daisy, Tip #3:
It is perfectly acceptable to order pizza two nights in a row as long as it is from different pizza joints.
Different names on the box = completely different meals.


Cooking with Daisy, Tip #4:
Chinese and Thai are not at all the same thing, even if they do use the same delivery guy some nights.


Posted at 10:50 PM
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The problem with being indispensable...

is that when you call in sick? That doesn't stop the calls from coming in. Or the texts. Or the emails. So, while you have job security, you have zero down time. Which is exhausting. Which wears you down. Which makes you need to take a sick day to spend in a Benadryl coma. Which you are roused from by the phone calls and the texts and the emails that make you indispensable.

It's a vicious cycle that the WM tells me I could put an end to if I just turned off my phone, but then I wouldn't be able to get the texts he sends me. And I like those. They make me smile. And sometimes laugh. And always happy.

Unlike the ones from work that just make me tired. Which is why I will be crawling under my flannel covers at an hour when only 8-year-olds go to bed.

Which makes me wonder: where do people get the energy to start petitions to secede from the union? Because apparently 20,000 people in my state are not indispensable. They have waaay too much time on their hands and waaay too oversized egos. They would really rather be led by Rick Perry? He doesn't even really run the state as it is (if any of them actually knew how Texas government works, they would know this). And, unlike pretty much every other state in the union, we've already been our own country...and we asked to join the U.S.

So, not only did I feel physically crappy all day, I had to also be embarrassed by my neighbor Texans who want throw a tantrum because the Republican they didn't even like in the beginning didn't win. What kind of example is that for the rest of the world?


Posted at 8:49 PM
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The Sky is Falling

I knew I should have posted yesterday morning. Instead, I bummed around on the couch until late into the morning before finally going out to meet the Winged Monkey for lunch with all his friends. Amidst the beer and burgers, a plan was hatched to go see Skyfall last night.

Now, I am all about the Bond. I can't get enough of Casino Royale, and staring into Daniel Craig's baby blues for two hours sounds like a perfectly pleasant way to spend a Saturday night.

Unless you do it in one of the most pretentious parts of town.

I'm a fairly simple girl. I like my blue jeans and my ponytail, and patios with picnic tables, and anything topped with bacon. I'm not a calamari girl. I'm not an amaretto swirler. I'm not interested in seeing and being seen.

I enjoyed the movie tremendously. It was well-paced, didn't take itself too seriously, and all of the actors did a phenomenal job. What I did not enjoy was eating dinner in a silicone showplace, surrounded by women that are no way representative of a species that exists in the natural world. And I really had no desire to spend more time in the Valley of the Dolls by capping the evening with $20 martinis in the bar two doors down.

I am not a big drinker. Never have been, never will be. Beer tastes like piss, tequila tastes like tree bark, and whiskey tastes like turpentine. I like some wines, but more than one glass makes me sleepy. More than one vodka drink, and the room feels like a tilt-a-whirl. Usually I can go and be social and have fun, but not when the group you are with decides to order for you even though you've said you really don't want anything to drink tonight, or continually insists you "taste this, you'll love it" when you have already politely declined. I am not 2. I am an adult. I know what I like and what I don't. I was polite and non-offensive when I said I really just wanted water tonight. Why do you have to look at me like you are personally affronted by the fact that I have not ever cared for Pinot Noir or gin martinis?

Thank god I have a WM who loves me. I can pull him aside and ask to go home and he graciously whisks me away from my discomfort and takes me home to my jammie pants and my comfy flannel sheets where he laughs with me about the Barbie Doll women we saw teetering down the sidewalk on their 6 inch platform heels trying not to rip their skin tight mini skirts.

Thank god I found someone real.


Posted at 9:12 AM
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Torture is an 8 Hour Meeting

I heard an interview on Marketplace several month back with Mike Cohn, the founder of Mountain Goat Software, that was all about "stand-up meetings".  The idea is to have a meeting standing up to encourage brevity and discourage distraction.


I dream of the day that I work for an organization that adopts this mentality.

In education we like to divide the day up into sections, usually about an hour long, with a few minutes of down time in between.  It keeps the students from getting bored; it gives them opportunities to socialize; it lets their teacher run to the bathroom.

We all recognize that students can't maintain their attention on a topic for an entire school day, unless that topic is a field trip to some place new and exciting. (Of course, as I type that, I.m having flashbacks to the field trip episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer when Xander and a group of bullies turn all hyena and eat the school mascot...and the school principal.  But I digress.)

So, it never ceases to annoy me when I find myself in full day meetings.  I'm talking 8-9 hours of sitting in the same room, with the same folks, rephrasing the same thoughts 50 different ways, or just generally complaining about issues that are honestly not going to be solved at the end of the day because the people in the room do not have the power to initiate the necessary fixes.

And, as if that isn't bad enough, 8 times out of 10 these days include a "working lunch" so we can make "more efficient use of our time".  Really?  More efficient?  What with the chewing and all?  Because there's lots of chewing in a room of a dozen or sometimes 2 dozen people who are eating cold sandwiches, which can barely be called a sandwich since they are mostly bread, with two slices of deli meat that no one can really distinguish as turkey or chicken, one limp piece of lettuce, and a rather pale looking slice of tomato.  Seriously.  The kids down the hall in the school cafeteria get better fixings than the adults in the room trying to change the shape of education as we know it.

Having spent my entire professional career in education, I am used to the demeaning form of the teacher lunch break.  20-30 minutes (45 if you are really lucky) during which you take care of all personal business, run copies, and down a couple of chicken strips before returning to the trenches.  You would think that when you finally have a day with no class bells and no taking of attendance, you could at least be allowed to go out to lunch for an hour or so like the rest of the professionals in the country.

Now, don't misunderstand me.  I don't have a problem with meetings that are important.  I don't take issue with a working lunch if that's the best time to hash out a plan for something.  But when you schedule and all day meeting with a working lunch built in. That is a violation of my constitutional protection against cruel and unusual punishment.

Today, to add insult to injury, I am having to take my own lunch to one of these working lunches.  Are?You? Kidding? Me?  You are going to lock me in a room for 8 hours, take away my only extended break, and then not even feed me?

I've been thinking of making a career change for a while now.  There are many folks I adore at my workplace, but there are many aspects of the job itself that are no longer or never have been satisfying.  Today is another one of those "Oprah moments" for me.  You know what I mean: the part of the story where Oprah's guest says something like, "At that moment I knew I had to change my life." or "That was the day I woke up and realized I couldn't live like that anymore."

Oh, Oprah.  You're not the only one looking for a change.

Most of the time the story continues with the teller going on a spiritual journey, or checking themselves into rehab, or waking up from a 2 year coma.  Mine will be slightly less dramatic.  Mine involves a bit of typing to update my resume.

Which I would not be able to do, were my meeting today being held standing up...




Posted at 7:23 AM
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Juxtaposition

I finished Cinder tonight.  Impressive.

I've read several recent re-imaginings of traditional fairy tales in the past few years, but this one was one of the more original.  Always a fan of sci-fi and fantasy, the cyborg spin on "The Little Cinder Girl" was kind of fun, even if it did end in an obvious cliff hanger.

What was more interesting though was the setting in which I read the last quarter of the book.  While I was immersed in the Eastern Commonwealth, the WM was on the other end of the couch, visiting the friendly town of Charmed in Sons of Anarchy.  My characters are tripping over their bionic limbs, and his are shooting up heroin between their fingers.  My book has royal balls; his show has biker club round tables.

Really, the two stories progressing side-by-side could not have been more different, and at the same time, they were crazily similar.  A young man who has lost his father ascends to a position of power.  Spies infiltrating the inner circle.  A long journey.  Strong females who defy societies norms. Wars.  Crazy step-parents.

Secrets.
Manipulation.
Mechanics.

Joseph Campbell would have had a field day in our living room tonight.




Posted at 9:39 PM
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Turning into a Pumpkin

Reading Cinder by Marissa Meyers.. Totally addicting.


Posted at 11:59 PM
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And the winner is...cheesy!

That's right, folks; I'm calling it early. Tonight, the cheese party takes the election.

I can't, however, tell you which of that party's candidates should be declared the winner.  It's just too close to call.

One the one hand, you have the tie selections of all the NBC news staff.  Brian Williams apparently lost a bet and ended up with a Halloween stripped tie, only to be slightly outdone by the heinous affair around the neck of Tom Brokaw.  There are plenty of colors that aren't associated with either party that they both could have worn in order to appear neutral.  Not sure why they thought ugly would best serve the occasion.

Then there are the graphic boards on CNN.  Seriously, CNN, you do not have to have an interactive graphic for every "fact" you report.  I work in tech, so I know how pricey those giant touchscreen monitors are, but do you have to use them every 5 seconds?  You don't have to draw a circle around Florida every time you mention it.  Florida has a rather recognizable shape..we know where it is, and no matter how many times you circle it, it is still too close to call.  Ditto for Chuck Todd and his touchscreen on NBC.  Just because your circles are green, Chuck, they are no more important, nor are they less cheesy.

Fox News?  Your anchors are too plastic.  Seriously.  They look like Sears mannequins.  And their super shiny lip gloss and bad toupee (please, tell me that is a toupee) do not make them more credible.  Especially when your electoral projections are conspicuously slow in awarding any votes to Obama.  You are supposed to be a news channel, not a campaign channel.

And then there is Diane Sawyer, who George Takei theorizes may be more than slightly inebriated, slurring her way around live feeds from all over the country.  I'm not sure if she's cheesy as much as she's just sad.

But, I think the winner may just have to be NBC and their ice rink electoral map in "Democracy Plaza."  I hope that that last sentence is enough of an explanation.  Just in case, I repeat: Ice. Rink. Map.


Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Apparently this is not the first election the ice rink map has been in the running.  How I missed it before I'm not sure.  Perhaps it was because it ran alone before where as this year they have paired it with the virtual race up the building behind it to the all important 270 electoral votes.  The building which is lit up with a stars & stripes motif, no less

At least in the midst of all the cheese, while we wait to see if Florida has learned to count in the past 12 years, there is Jon Stewart to enlighten and entertain us.  Thank you, Jon, for consistently raising the level of the dialogue, for calling bullshit when you see it, and for maintaining a sense of humor the whole time.  You and John Oliver give me hope for humanity.








Posted at 10:07 PM
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Countdown to the Recounts

For the past two days, NPR has been rife with stories about just how close this year's election appears to be.  Barring a surprising surge on the side of either party it looks as though a recount may be inevitable in at least one of the "swing states" the candidates have spent the past month courting.

I, however,  live in Texas, which basically means that if I don't vote Republican (which I am not at all likely to do this election) my vote basically doesn't count.  That would explain why Obama & Company haven't even looked in the direction of Texas for several months.  Not that I blame him.  He has plenty of supporters here, but the odds of him winning Texas are about as high as the chance of Texas making barbeque illegal. Not. Going. To. Happen.

Makes you wonder why, in this age of technology, we still have the electoral college.  It made sense, I guess, when there wasn't a reliable postal service and distances were measured by the number of horses you'd have to change, but now?  When we all have access to television news and high speed internet covers over half the country, the average voter has every opportunity to stay abreast of current issues and the candidate's positions, and, therefore, their vote should count on it's own.  I can imagine the change would increase voter turnout in many states that are so traditionally liberal or conservative that those in the political minority feel essentially disenfranchised given the way the current system plays out.

If the election is close enough this year, and especially if we have a popular vote that is in opposition to the electoral vote, perhaps abolishing the electoral college will once again be up for consideration.  That itself would be enough to make me vote, even if I wasn't already driven to do so for my conscience, knowing full well my vote will in no way affect the ultimate outcome.

If you haven't already, vote tomorrow.


Posted at 8:32 PM
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Southern Lived-in

When I bought my house 2 1/2 years ago, my mother ordered a subscription to Southern Living magazine for me. This was odd for two reasons:

1) I do not cook, and over half the magazine is devoted to recipes that involve much more than dialing up delivery.
2) I am not a gardener, and the half of the magazine not devoted to food is usually devoted to gardening. I am also not 50 years old, which I believe is the target audience for Southern Living, so there's that, as well.

But, my obsessive reading kicks in every time the magazine shows up, and I read it cover-to-cover, and all I can think is: who are these people?They have to all be independently wealthy because they either hire people to do all of the gardening & decorating & cooking at their houses, or they do that instead of going to work. How else do they have time to monogram their butter? (I am not making that up! p. 108 of the November issue.) Or, how else would you have time to "...replicate old-master still life vignettes..." in your dining room? (p.28 November issue)

My dining room? It's ready for company if there isn't a load of laundry on the table waiting to be folded. :-)


Posted at 10:01 PM
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Whedon for President

Today I got to play with an iPad mini and a Windows 8 machine while I was working at a local technology conference.  My impressions?  The iPad mini was...like an iPad...only smaller.  Windows 8? Eh.

And "eh" is how I pretty much feel about all the election coverage dominating the media this weekend.  The two hours I spent in the car today were filled almost entirely with a kaleidoscope-like re-editing of the same three campaign stops made by the two candidates: the same quotes, the same descriptions, the same commentary.

I used to enjoy the political debate, the analysis of agendas, the thoughtful criticism of the action, or inaction, of our elected officials.   But now?  Now I'd rather sit on my comfy couch with the WM, watching The Avengers and Prometheus.  I would be perfectly happy if the whole election cycle could be carried out in two weeks, as opposed to two years.

Except of course, then I wouldn't get nearly as many laughs from John Stewart.  That man can make some of the most disturbing moments of this campaign season roll-on-the-floor funny just by raising his eyebrows. 

And then, of course, there is this recent find that the WM shared with me, knowing that Joss Whedon is one of my heroes:




Enjoy the closing of the election year, folks.  May the best (or least worst) candidates win!


Posted at 10:55 PM
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Did I Miss November?

Two nights ago, I spent my evening jumping off the couch every 5 minutes to answer the door and dole out candy to witches and vampires and Superman himself. Tonight? I'm back on my couch...watching Christmas movies.

That's right, the 2nd of November and Hallmark Channel has already begun to air its Christmas movies. In fact, Target began putting out their Christmas wares earlier this week, and Central Market's foyer already sports a fully decorated Christmas tree. I like Christmas as much as the next girl, but give me a break. Can we not hold off just a bit? Do we have to stretch out the great American shopping spree over a two month period instead of just the one? Could we not give Thanksgiving--the slightly less decorated, but no less appetizing holiday--a chance to happen?

I've never understood the way we sort of gloss over Thanksgiving the past few years. I mean, this is a holiday revolving around food, so you would think Americans could get behind that. And it's about family, which we all claim to value. And it is completely American, which seems to be important to a large part of the electorate these days. So why doesn't Thanksgiving get the time on the court that Christmas does? Or Halloween? Or Valentine's Day? All of those get a whole aisle dedicated to their festivities in the grocery store, for cryin' out loud. Thanksgiving? It gets a couple of endcaps with boxes of StoveTop Stuffing and cans of can-shaped cranberry sauce. Honestly, it's pretty pathetic.

I mean, I get that the color scheme leaves something to be desired. (Not every one can pull off orange, yellow, and brown.) I know an ugly (and often belligerent) bird is the mascot rather than a cute little cherub, or a grandfatherly toy maker, or a giant fuzzy bunny. And I freely admit that a frequently dry hunk of poultry isn't nearly as inspiring as a box of chocolates or an edible house made from sugar and spice and everything nice. But still, America, where is your sense of decency, your love of family, your belief in equality?!

Can't Candace Cameron (all grown out of her Growing Pains) and her handmade (and utterly underwhelming) nutcrackers wait a couple of weeks for their annual premiere? I bet Tom Arnold could play the owner of Turkey Town just as easily as he plays the Santa of Santa Town.

Because,you see, I am getting older. And the years are going by faster every day. And I want my fall holidays, even if it is 90 degrees outside. And I want a holiday that involves one shopping trip to one store, and everyone eating around a table instead of a TV, and no one getting shot over a damn XBOX.

Bring back Thanksgiving, America. Lord knows none of us really has the money we inevitably spend on Christmas presents. So, let's put the chore of finding a spot in the mall parking lot off for another month and focus on the pleasures of making handprint turkeys and pumpkin pie. Let's watch the leaves change before we start putting the lights on the trees.

Let's take a moment to be reflective...before we take a month to be overindulgent.


Posted at 10:31 PM
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Life with Subtitles

The Winged Monkey has been having trouble sleeping lately.  Some nights he just isn't tired, and some nights he has a hard time sleeping because I have to wake him up 3 or 4 times to get him to roll over because he's snoring loud enough to wake the dead.  Both reasons inevitably lead to the same result: WM on the couch at 2 a.m., watching tv until he falls asleep.

Snoring aside, he is a thoughtful Monkey, and in an attempt not to keep a cranky Witch awake, he has been turning the volume way down and turning on the closed captioning.  So, for the last couple of weeks, I turn on the TV the day after one of his sleepless nights to find subtitles on everything I watch.

Now text of any kind is a distraction for my literate brain (billboards, twitter feeds, the back of tubes of toothpaste), and I keep finding myself reading the screen anytime the subtitles pop up, even though I can hear the TV perfectly well, and I usually understand English just fine.  But it's like a compulsion or something.  A reading obsession: if there is text on the screen I will be reading it.  I may miss half of the action and most of body language, but I know every word that was said. And every (sigh), (laugh), or (knocking on door) in between.

And after reading subtitles for a couple of weeks, you start to notice the importance of some of the more technical aspects of text that they seem to ignore.

Like punctuation?
And ...spacing.
And italics.

So then I find myself thinking about these subtleties of the written word and folks like Faulkner or e.e.cummings who seemed to understand the intimate relationship between the "mechanics" of text and the meaning of it. And then my mind jumps to audio books and how the performers on the recordings decode the tone and emotion and character communicated through such mechanisms and bring those words to life. Or, rather, demonstrate the life that is already in the words.  Because they are, you know.  Alive.  And powerful.  Life-changing even.

And then I miss it:  The reading.  And the writing.  And the satisfaction they both give.

It's National Blog Posting Month. I need this...

NaBloPoMo November 2012




Posted at 8:00 PM
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A Royal Mess

For the past 3 years, my sister and I have participated in Race for the Cure. We have been fortunate in the fact that breast cancer has yet to make an appearance in our immediate family, but that does not mean it has not affected our circle of friends. The same is true for many folks, I think. With over a quarter of a million new cases expected to be diagnosed this year, according to the American Cancer Society, most of us know someone who has been touched by the disease. But even if you had never known anyone who has faced a battle with breast cancer, I think it would be impossible not to be affected by The Race.

There is a particular energy at these events: tens of thousands of people, all shapes, sizes, and colors flow through the streets like a river of humanity. Some wear custom t-shirts honoring those they've lost, others wear pink camo symbolizing the fight in the midst of which they currently find themselves. Every year a local crew of firefighters runs in full gear, complete with pink fire helmets. Every year hundreds of pink tutus and pink feather boas trot alongside them.

One year, a young man proposed to his girlfriend who had just been found to be cancer free after almost two years of treatment. Another year, a woman collapsed five feet away from us...before The Race could even begin. Together, those moments represent what The Race is supposed to be about: the struggle and the victory.

But never, at any moment, at any of The Races, have I ever heard a political conversation.

The Race is not a place for politics.

The Race is a place for hope.

This week, the Susan G. Komen Foundation lost sight of that fact went it's board decided to cut grants to Planned Parenthood that had, for the past 5 years, provided breast screenings for hundreds of thousands of women, most in underserved populations in underserved parts of the country. The moved shocked millions of the group's supporters, especially given founder Nancy Brinker's rather vehement support for PP just a few years ago (pointed out rather nicely here by Milowent).

Today, Brinker apologized for the move, and the foundation has invited Planned Parenthood to reapply for the grant money. While I am happy at what appears to be a return to rationality, I can't help but wonder what this politically driven stumble will ultimately cost the foundation and those individuals it is supposedly trying to help. How many potential donors will shy away from the group either in fear or protest of the political pressures to which they bent this week? How many potential survivors will now be lost?


<span class=

I'm not sure that I will donate to Komen again, but I am sure that if I don't I will give what I would have to other sources, whether it be the American Cancer Society or directly to Planned Parenthood, as many others upset by the Komen Foundation's actions this week have already done. Withing 48 hours, the $600,000 that PP received annually from Komen was more than made up for by donations made to PP directly. Maybe this outpouring of support was one of the factors that helped Brinker "refocus". At the very least, it demonstrated that in a society where politics is too often king, hope is still a very powerful queen.



Posted at 10:31 PM
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WWLD? (What Would Lydia Do?)

Things overheard the past month while listening to the WM play Skyrim on the Xbox I got him for Christmas:
WM: Where's my Ice Spear?

WM: Look at my new horse Shadowmere! He's the fastest of all the horses!

WM: Get out of the way, Lydia! (This one at least once a game.)

WM: Fine, don't die. I need to try out my destruction spells anyway.

Lydia: O.k., got it. (Heard every ten minutes or so.)

WM: He's gonna kill my horse! Shadowmere, fight back!

WM: That armor makes Lydia look busty.

WM: Where are my maces?

WM: Where'd Lydia go? ( Uttered at least twice a night.)

WM: Yeah, you're in the f#*%in' drink, Bitch.

WM: Come on Shadowmere. Guards are mean nasty people, aren't they?

Lydia: I am swoooorrrrrn to carry your burden. (Then he grins at me.)

Yeah. He's a grown up.





Posted at 9:16 PM
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I may have been away for a while...

...but I'm pretty sure that "jamaican anal parasite" is not a keyword phrase that should be in any way connected to my blog. According to Blogger's statistics, it's in the top 5 as far as keyword searches that could potentially lead people here.

Um...huh?

The internet is a strange, strange place.


Posted at 11:09 PM
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Or it may just be a UFO, or a "meteor", if you believe "officials".

Apparently hundreds of people started calling the local news stations to report sighting a UFO tonight. At least that's what the very blond news anchor has repeated at least 10 times in the past 20 minutes. Forget that we've already determined that it was a meteor...which hit pretty much nothing...and did pretty much no damage...and so really didn't make much news after all. It's still probably the only time Blondie is going to get to use the UFO teaser line, so she is milking it for all it's worth.

This is why I don't normally watch the news. Besides the fact that we are in an election year, and I'm not really keen on any of the candidates that will inevitably take up half the newscast, I also happen to live in Texas, which means the rest of the newscast will consist of high school sports highlights, Dallas Cowboy stories, and the weather. (Have I ever mentioned how obsessed we Texans are with weather? It's a sickness really. Entire evenings devoted to monitoring thunderstorms on Doppler radars and people sending in pictures of clouds and hail pellets.)

Now, if the meteor had headed straight for Cowboys Stadium and taken out Jerry Jones' absurdly overpriced jumbo tron? That would have been newsworthy. That would have been an act of God worthy of Blondie's fine journalistic talent.

As it is, the meteor story was beyond anticlimactic. Especially since the network didn't even have any footage of it's own to show, so they were asking viewers to send in more pictures, since the one they had to use tonight was this one:

Apparently the orange traffic light is really a UFO...or a meteor...or the taillight of someone up on a hill.
Your guess is as good as mine.

WTF, channel 5? That's the best you guys can do?

And people moan about the loss of our local news outlets?


Posted at 10:19 PM
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...but some Mormon chic in L.A. stole my blog name. Really?? That's just rude. Especially since I had been blogging for a good 3 months before she even started hers. And my blog title is also the address of my blog, which I'm sure is more than a little confusing for her friends.

I get that I can't copyright titles and all, but geez, people. I thought blogs were all about being creative & such. I thought bloggers would have a little more courtesy than that. I guess I was wrong. Kind of disappointing.

Think I may have to ask her about it...like where she came up with it. Since I know the story behind mine, and it's not: "I saw another blog with the title and I stole it."


Posted at 10:08 PM
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Daisy's Tweets

My Momma Taught Me To Share

Tag, you're it!