Theo Thursday: We are the World of Plush Animal Companions

Now that McCain claims to not be campaigning because of the economic crisis (although he was partly responsible for the failure of S&L banks that required a bailout in the 1980s, so he should stay the fuck away from Washington), Theo is extra revved up. He knows that this is just the McCain's campaign latest shenanigan - pretending that he knows anything about economics, how ridiculous! - so he gathered all the plush animal companions living in our apartment for a group protest against this latest farcical travesty of a mockery of a sham. (Apologies for the blurriness of the shot. Our digital camera is dying.)

Click on photo for larger view. The sign says, "We can't bear 4 more years of failed economic policies! Say no to McCain-"Palin aka Bush!" - Plush Animal Companions for Obama<

Please join Theo's group, Plush Animal Companions for Obama (PACO) on Facebook. I swear no one will think you are a plushie.

Greed

When I was a wee lass, my family situation was typical of a lot of American families. We generally had enough income for food, safe shelter, and non-designer clothing, plus some extra for a movie or other basic entertainment. Vacations involved stuffing my parents, grandparents, sister, and me into our blue Cutlass with a hole in the fabric covering of the back seat, then driving four hours to a resort in Michigan filled with elderly Jews and mold. We also could indulge in a baseball (i.e. - Cubs) game or even two without having to hock the family jewels, which was good since we didn't have any family jewels to hock.

Sadly, kids growing up today face ever increasing levels of corporate greed, making it nearly impossible for their hard working parents to offer them these comforts. This morning's New York Times had a cover story on how much it will cost to go to a baseball game next summer. Basically, both the Yankees and the Mets (go Mets!) are building new stadiums, much of which is financed by taxpayer funds. Instead of repaying the good citizens of New York City for their generosity, they are almost doubling the price of tickets. Right now, the cheapest tickets available for a Mets game are "value" tickets, which actually are a good value at $5 to sit in the back row in the highest tier of Shea Stadium. (They are only $5, though, on days when the Mets play teams that no one wants to see in April. On peak game days against popular teams, they are $35 for the same shitty seats. This tiered pricing was also something that my parents did not have to deal with - it cost the same amount to sit in the far corner on the third base line whether we played our arch-nemesis the St. Louis Cardinals or the San Francisco Giants.)

How the hell are parents supposed to take their kids to a baseball game if tickets are $50 and up per person to sit in the worst seats in the house? Don't working people have a right to some leisure and relaxation, too? Even if a family could afford to go to a game, is it worth it? It would be $200+ for a family of four for the shitty seats. The Mets better fucking win every game they play in their new stadium for that price.

If people don't have any heirlooms to sell, I'm not sure how the baseball team owners expect to fill their new stadiums. And honestly, I hope that they don't. I hope that they have tons of empty seats at every damn game (except the ones with $10 seats, as that strikes me as a fair price since a movie here costs $12). I hope that their greed causes them to lose money hand over fist until they remember that unlike them, most people fucking work for a living.

It Was Smashing

On Friday afternoon, I took the train up to Stamford, CT, where Husband works. He picked me up at the train station in Fred the Red, our PT Cruiser, and we motored up to Massachusetts for our godson's 2nd birthday celebration extravaganza. Since we took off around 2 pm, we beat most of the traffic, and were able to enjoy a delightful evening with my friend Alex, her husband Big Giraffe, and their two kids.

The party was set to begin at 11 am on Sat., so we offered to help out and pick up a few last minute items. First on our list was balloons. Around 9:30, Husband and I headed over to the local party store, parked Fred, and picked out a ginormous Winnie the Pooh mylar balloon and a dozen regular ones. The party store was a bit of a madhouse, so it took a few minutes for them to take our order, and we were told to return around 10:15. We paid and headed out for our next item, which was ice.

When I approached the passenger door of Fred, I thought, "Hmmm... that's odd. Why is there glass all over the front seat?" Just as my brain was slowly processing the message my eyeballs sent in, Husband said, "SHIT! Someone fucking smashed my window and stole the GPS."


Indeed, it was true. Clearly, we would not be bringing the balloons and ice to the party.

Cutting a long story short, we filed a police report and drove Fred to an auto glass repair shop. Fortunately, the good folks there were able to fix Fred that day, and 10 hours later as we drove back to NYC in the pouring rain, we were nice and dry in the car.

Suzanne on the Verge

When it comes to applying to school, I am very organized and I start early. Thus way back in October, I requested transcripts from my undergraduate school and my graduate school be sent to the MFA programs I decided to apply to. Much to my surprise, my undergraduate school - which was/is notorious for not giving a shit about students - had a very convenient online form to fill out to request a transcript. I then printed a copy and faxed in my signature. At every step along the way, I received an email confirming they received my request. Very nice!

My snooty Ivy League grad school, however, will only allow alumni to mail transcript requests or ask for them in person. I trekked up to their office, and while not exactly convenient, they seemed to take care of it immediately. Still, I was a little nervous because the chick processed my form without a date on it, so I called back a few weeks later. The guy on the phone confirmed that the transcripts were sent. Excellent.

It took me a few weeks longer to finish the rest of the applications, as I had to submit a writing sample and personal statement, and I wanted to send in the best work I could. By mid-December, I had a portfolio that I felt proud of, and I sent the rest of the application in. Then I heard nothing from wither school. You see where this is going...

Yesterday was the deadline for one of the programs. I called the admissions office in early January upon my return from Hawaii to verify that the application was complete. The woman told me that she could not check, but that I would get something in the mail indicating if anything was missing. Days went by and I heard nothing. Then on Sat., Jan 12 - a whopping three days before the fucking deadline - I get a letter in the mail. The letter is dated Jan. 7 and the envelop postmarked Jan. 11. Said letter tells me to look up my application online, so I do. And guess what is missing? That's right - my motherfucking grad school transcript.

Now I am an anxious basket case. Monday morning rolls and I call the admissions office, offering to personally bring in the transcripts in an envelop that afternoon. She says that's fine and that I have until the end of the week, but the director of the program emphasized that they cannot look at your application until the admissions office deems it complete, so I want it complete. In fact, I wanted it complete three fucking weeks ago, which is why I finished it and submitted it a month early.

Anyway, then I get a call for a good week-long gig, which I have to leave early so I can run around for the fucking transcript. I deliver it to the receptionist at 4:15 pm. She opens the envelop and stamps the materials as received. I hover around, waiting for her to enter the fucking things into the system, but she does not. I stammer things nervously and leave. I toss and turn last night, keeping Husband awake until I evacuate for the couch. I cross my fingers.

Two days later, the information has not been recorded and my application is still incomplete. I decided to email the program director and explain what happened, and hope like hell that they will evaluate my application. If this does not work, you can all visit me in prison because I am going to fucking kill someone in that admissions office.

Face(book)ing the Facts

Some time ago, Suebob or Des wrote a post about why she doesn't have a Facebook account. I nodded my head. Hell, I can barely handle a MySpace page. Facebook just seemed like overkill. No way I was going to set up a profile there.

Well, as Alex often writes, the only way to guarantee that I will do something is to swear that I would never do whatever it is. In fact, it is completely Alex's fault that I even went to that cursed Facebook site in the first place. Her brother supposedly had some pictures of himself as a goth for Halloween, and she was told to check them out on his Facebook profile. We were on the phone while she tried to do this, and one thing lead to another, and before I knew it, I had my very own Facebook profile and was busily searching for friends from high school who I haven't spoken to in about 420 years. Of course, that shit is almost as addictive as M&Ms.* Bah!

Anyway, Husband and I are off to visit our friend Mara for Thanksgiving, so I will be wrested away from a computer for the most part. This is good so that I don't spend any more time on that wretched Facebook site (is there a damn user guide available anywhere?). I'll probably sneak in blogging (some addictions cannot be denied!), and I definitely have a good essay ready for BlogHer about a ridiculous ban on the holiday refrain, "ho, ho, ho." Happy Thanksgiving!

*Yes, my pretties. If you have a Facebook profile, let me know so we can be friends!!!

Holiday Wishes

Although stores have been encouraging people to shop for the winter holidays since the 4th of July (OK, I exaggerate - retailers have only been pushing the holidays since approximately 9 pm on Oct. 31st when they thought it was unlikely to get any last minute Halloween sales), the season officially begins on Friday. Store understand that people are more vulnerable to sales pitches after they've overeaten and spent time with beloved family members. After all, we need to assuage our guilt at all the calories consumed and the number of times we had to repress the urge to strange a beloved family member.

My birthday also sneaks up after Xmas, so I'm beginning to get inquiries from my family as to what I want for Hanukkah's and to celebrate the day I emerged into this world 32 years ago. I don't have an answer. Thanks to Husband, I am more or less set on things that I want. I get to travel frequently. If I want a new sweater or pair of shoes, I just buy it. I don't really wear jewelry other than what I am always decked out in (six random earrings, four rings, and my feminist necklace; most of which are cheap). Technology doesn't interest me much. When I want to read a book, I get it. I'm very lucky and comfortable.

What I really want, though, is for the majority of the world to stop annoying me. Anyone inclined to get me a gift can give the funds to a progressive political candidate instead. For those who think that is a waste, how about a donation to the National Network of Abortion Funds? As I told my mom, there's no better way to celebrate my birth than by preventing innocent souls from being born themselves.

Arghhhh! *Slurp*

Actual email I received from Husband a few minutes ago, who today is returning from a business trip in Europe:

In the Admirals Club a guy with an eye patch was eating soup. I hate to occularly profile, but I have a feeling he was an air pirate. If I return home without me gold, you'll know why.

Damn, I missed him this week.

Vim & Vigor or Vinegar & Piss?

It's obvious that I have a lot of anger towards other people that I consider to be morons. (Another reason why it is such a bummer that I do not speak Yiddish. A book review in yesterday's New York Times notes, "Yiddish parses the stupidity of others in a thousand ways, and find distinctions matter." Damn, that makes me laugh and beam with pride. This shit is in my genes, even if I don't speak the mama loshen - mother tongue.) Something happened yesterday that made me rethink some of my rants.

My friend Logan is a certified sex educator, completing her PhD in Human Sexuality at NYU. She has worked with hundreds of New York City school kids, covering the full range of the socio-economic spectrum, and wrote an awesome book about how to talk to kids about sex. A few nights ago, she was on TV discussing birth control. Her honesty about what kids are up to these days and her frank approach to helping kids make safe, rationale decisions about sex caught the attention of a conservative blogger. Needless to say, the kuneh-laiml didn't agree with her and took it upon himself to launch a written assault on Logan's character. His minions chimed in, and reading their nasty attacks literally made me ill. (I'm not going to link to him because if people click through and he tracks referring links, I have no doubt that I will get hateful comments, and I don't want to deal with these shmendriks.) Later, Logan received an email from a yold who ranted about how he can't wait to meet her in person because she's a horrible person and he's going to sue her for sharing her ideas that result from the fact that her parents don't love her. He ended his misspelled and grammatically incorrect missive by noting that he didn't "need a college degree to make him dumb." (Obviously not.)

At first, I felt morally superior to conservatives because I don't write such vile personal attacks on my bl.. oh wait. I do. Maybe I am not better than these judgmental douche pipes who confuse "having morals" for "being a shithead." While I am pretty certain that I've never gone as far as these right-wingers do in character assassination, I still call them names. (Sometimes even in Yiddish.) On the other hand, I've never sent anyone an email threatening to sue them because I think their ideas are stupid, and certainly not insulting their children. Hmmmm....

Consesrvatives Sure Respect "Life"

"First of all, whenever I hear anything described as a heartless assault on children, I tend to think it is a good idea. I'm happy that the president's willing to do something bad for kids." - William Kristol, editor of "The Weekly Standard," on President Bush's veto on expanding state health insurance programs for children

And that is all I think people need to know about conservatives, compassion, and creating a "culture of life."

Stay Away from My Friend Dianne

After Dianne revealed that she has the logic skills commonly exhibited by serial killers in her answer to the question of why a woman killed her sister a week after their mom's funeral, I sent her an email.

"So, how many bodies you got buried in your basement, serial killer?" I wrote. Then I mentioned that the prior day I went to an art installation that consisted of most of the floor of an office building/former warehouse being filled with dirt that comes up to about my knee. Dianne thought she had been there before, and she was right about what had been there. It's been open to the public since 1980, and the guy at the information desk told me that they rake and water it once a week. (I'm sure the people in the floors below love that.)

She replied, "Hahahahaha! I am so happy and alarmed! I do not bury bodies in my basement, I sneak into the local wax museum and leave them there. It takes forever to realize they are not part of a macabre exhibit! I was afraid I was right after I posted my answer, so I googled the question to try to find the answer. Also, there is a list of serial killer characteristics that I score pretty high on, I tried to find them as well, but no luck."

Dianne then further exhibited her deviant nature by suggesting that we go to the art installation and "chuck grass seed in the pile." Now it is my turn to laugh psychotically, and if Count Mockula would be so good as to share her disturbing story about the coroner's office her mom worked it, it will be even more fun.

Are You a Serial Killer?

Husband told me that he read that nearly all serial killers have the same answer to the following question:

A woman is at her mother's funeral when she notices an attractive man who is attending. She would like to go and talk to him, but first she must deal with the well-wishers and other people who went to the funeral and want to speak with her on their way out. By the time she is finished with the niceties, the man is gone. She never gets a chance to find out who he is. A week later, she kills her sister. Why?

Posit your theory in the comments* and later I'll reveal what the typical explanation given by a serial killer is.

*Unless you know the answer 'cause you heard this before. Don't be a wet blanket when it comes to demented fun, please!

It's a Jungle Out There

Thursday, Des and I set out to see the bull elephant sculpture with the huge dick in the United Nations sculpture garden. (Nothing promotes international understand and peace like bronze elephant cock.) Unfortunately, the sculpture garden is closed for renovations. This may explain why I could never find more information on its hours when I searched the UN website and then called repeatedly. (The calls sent me through a maze of despair in why I pushed many buttons, but never actually spoke to a human.)

Fortunately, the elephant is situated near the street. Ironically, it is impossible to see the elephant's genitals because it is literally surrounded by a lush, overgrown bush. At least that makes me laugh.

Now that the weather has returned to August, it was very steamy and hot as Des and I pounded the pavement of the concrete jungle known as Manhattan yesterday, seeking adventure for my book on things to see and do that are off the beaten (subway) track. We were lead to Theodore Roosevelt's birthplace, which is awesome. Many of TR's safari victims, namely a lion, an elephant foot (not penis), and rhino's foot, are displayed. The tour guide, a very knowledgeable volunteer former history professor named Russell, explained that while TR indeed was an amazing conservationist, the times were certainly different.

"He took a disturbing amount of pleasure in shooting things," Russell acknowledged.

Still, Des and I agreed that TR is pretty much our favorite US president. The times were very different in some ways, and shockingly similar in others. TR stood up for the rights of labor over corporations, health care for all, public parks so that everyone could enjoy the outdoors, and the sense that "with great wealth comes great responsibility," the motto of his Quaker grandmother. (I am glad that her words left a great impression on him than those of his own mother, who grew up on a plantation in Virginia and supported the Confederacy during the Civil War while his dad went off to the front to provide logistical support to Union troops.)

Before I left my apartment, I read a nauseating article in Rolling Stone about the profiteering that is going on in Iraq by corporations allied with Republicans. Not only are they scamming billions from taxpayers and the administration could not care less, but they are directly responsible for the death and mutilation of hundreds of Americans - both troops and civilians - in their fraudulent work. Grover Nordquist was quoted (and maybe this was in a New York Times op-ed, not the magazine article - I read them both at the same time) as saying that they are working hard to get the US back to where we were before that "socialist" Theodore Roosevelt ruined everything. Yet if only our current leaders followed the civilized example of Theodore Roosevelt and served the people instead of indulging their savage blood-lust for money, we'd be a lot better off. It's sad when I look back fondly at the turn of the century as more enlightened.

Still Not Sunny

As far as I can tell from my small dining room window that looks into a courtyard and has a small slice of sky available for analyzing, it is not sunny today. (My dining room window has almost the only vantage point for weather analytics, as my street-facing bedroom and living room windows are shrouded under scaffolding that's been up for at least a year already, and my kitchen window looks mostly into the building across the courtyard. It's a good thing that my childhood was spent living in darkness - Husband freaks out at the lack of good natural and artificial lighting whenever we visit my parents - preparing me for City life.) I wanted it to be sunny today so that I could really enjoy my visit to the UN Sculpture Garden, where a bull elephant statue with a 2 foot long penis resides.

Also not improving my mood was the research I just did for an article about single women, subprime lending, and mortgage foreclosures that I posted on BlogHer. It should be obvious that women are going to get especially fucked up the ass by the mortgage default crisis, but I haven't seen much about it. However, there is ample evidence that single women, along with non-white and low income people, were railroaded into subprime loans. Yeah, you can buy your dream in America, but it's temporary and will cost you everything in the long run. Bah.

I need to eat ice cream and/or cookies today.

New York Steamroller

Does anyone else suspect that the Bush administration hoped that they could claim that yesterday's steam pipe explosion in my beloved city was an act of terrorism?

Just curious.

The Blind Scalias of Justice

The biggest threat to liberty and democracy in the US is not George W. Bush. Sure, he's a dictatorial "my way or the highway" type, but he's essentially a stubborn idiot who only got his way because the rest of the country (including an extremely lame Congress) bought into his lies and refused to question what the hell was going on. I blame Americans for the damage we allowed Bush to create.

Dick Cheney, on the other hand, is one truly evil motherfucker. The man says that he is above the government because of his Constitutional dual role as president pro temp of the Senate and Vice President. Therefore, when he wants to keep his Lord Voldemort actions in his dark chamber, he claims executive privilege as part of the executive branch of government. Then when it is noted that as part of the executive branch of government, he is required to turn over papers to the National Archive, he says that he is not in fact part of the executive branch because he is part of the Senate. So nyah nyah on us. God only knows the full extent of the vile actions that Cheney has undertaken in the past seven years, but we will be paying for them for a long time.

While Cheney's poison will remain in our collective system for quite some time, at least Cheney is going to go away, though. The biggest threat to democracy and liberty in the US is Supreme Court "Justice" Antonin Scalia. That man is a terrifying dispenser of justice as he sees fit. Constitution? Forget the Constitution! The man is confused - when he swore an oath on the Bible to uphold the Constitution, he believed that the Bible was the Constitution, not the actual Constitution. Thus we have him repeatedly making decisions that edge us closer and closer to a theocracy. Government funded religion? Bring it on, Scalia says. Who cares about separation between church and state when we should really just have church. Free speech? Only when it is really expensive, not when it is free. Scalia's demented Bible says the rich are going to heaven and thus have more rights. Reproductive rights? Of course the man says you have the right to reproduce, it's not reproducing that offends God.

As Scalia chips away at anything that makes America worthwhile, we can only sit here and watch in horror. Unlike Bush and Cheney, he's there until he dies or decides to go away. People like Scalia never die or retire. They have missions. We are fucked.