---

We're having a big clean up day here at Panhandlers Central tomorrow and Friday, and I am in charge of doling out the paper towels and Windex. So I ran out today at lunch and visited my local dollar store. In transit, I stopped at a Hallmark store to purchase some birthday cards.

I get to the counter and hand the counter lady a five dollar bill. I think my card purchase came to maybe $4.30. She looks at me and says, "Change?"

It wasn't evident where she was going with this. Did I want change? Did I have change? Did she want me to change? Did I want her to change? It just wasn't clear. And when I said, "Pardon me?" she just repeated herself: "Change?"

What?

So I just said, "Yes, please."

She gave me a dumb look and finally said, "No, do you have change? The thirty cents?"

"Well yes, I do," I answered. "I had no idea what you were asking me for."

She giggled.

I have a suggestion for retail workers of the world: enunciate and say what you mean. I'm not a mind reader. Your monosyllabic utterances are unintelligable and make you look like an ass. Don't think I won't make a scene.

I've been on the other end of retail transactions. It's not like I'm picking on retail and food industry workers lately. I worked for many years as a sales clerk at various stores, a waitress, and a cashier at a dairy. The idea of customer service and how people employed in the industry are supposed to act. I don't have unrealistic expectations. I don't expect people to treat me like royalty -- just some fucking courtesy would be good.

---

I'm really uncomfortable with something that happened yesterday. I get pretty pissy when anyone talks about banning abortion. Yesterday the Senate actually voted to ban "partial birth" abortion. They already voted on it and banned it in March, but now they're changing the language just a little before it gets sent off to the President to sign into law. "Likely to be deleted: nonbinding language added by the Senate in support of the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision."

In addition, they added this little nugget: "The current bill contains an exception when the life of the mother -- but not her health -- is at risk."

I find this atrocious. George's administration has made it very difficult to be a woman in this country. Aside from all the other sexist crap being pulled now that there's no one to guard the hen house, now I have to put up with being told that a threat to my health is not a good enough reason to terminate a pregnancy. I'm being told that the U.S. government thinks I'm too stupid to make a decision for myself.

Yesterday Trish sent me a link to some asshat's blog who called those of who are pro-choice "feminazis." I wasn't interested in debating with the guy because he's entitled to his opinion. It's when fucktards with the wrong opinion are in a position of power -- that's when I get nervous and in the mood to put up a fight.

Look, if you're a man -- I don't believe that you should have the right to tell a woman what she can and can't do with her own body. If you're personally involved in the situation [ie, if you knock up your girlfriend], then fine, by all means, get involved with the discussion. But until a man can spontaneously grow a uterus and carry children in his womb men have no business legislating the do's and don'ts of abortion. Leave the heavy lifting to people who have a clue of what it might be like.

Plus, there's this golden tidbit:

Bush hailed passage of the legislation, which he said "will help build a culture of life in America. I urge Congress to quickly resolve any differences and send me the final bill as soon as possible so that I can sign it into law."

A culture of life? A culture of life? You've got to be fucking kidding me! George starts a war that kills over 5,000 people and he's talking about the sanctity of life? Give me a fucking break.

To end this, I'm just going to leave you with the immortal words of a bumper sticker I'm fond of quoting:

If you can't trust me with a choice,
how can you trust me with a child?

---

I bought a new razor for myself over the weekend. Under normal circumstances this would not be a blog-worthy event. I mean, dude, it's a razor. However, I purchased a Schick Intuition razor -- you know, the one that has the shaving soap surrounding the razor?

It's the worst invention of the century so far.

It sounds like a good idea. It comes with shaving goop, so you don't need to buy an extra product and waste time in the shower with extra stuff. I'm all about that. But who is the smartass who thought of putting the razor just below the soap?

It's obviously a man and he hates women.

You have to push the razor into your skin really hard just so your skin comes in contact with the razor. There's no way to get a clean, close shave unless you push hard enough to bruise. And by then you're taking off a layer of perfectly good skin. And you know there's some guy back in the testing lab just laughing his ass off.

Seriously, save yourselves, girls. Just say no to the Intuition. I'm planning on sending my blood flecked razor back to Schick with a nice nastygram. Maybe that's why I'm feeling so freaky today -- the blood loss has gotten to me.

---

I'm blinded -- the sun has come out today...at 6:11 pm. Oh good -- just in time for work! Oh, and it's supposed to be gorgeous tomorrow and I can't call out? Even better!

---

I hate the argument that if a woman is half-dressed or dressed provacatively, she must be asking to be raped. It's stupid and assumes that every man finds the same state of dress [or undress] sexy and provacative. Let's not forget little Brittney Spears turning on the masses in her little Catholic school girl uniform, eh? Well, hey, if Catholic uniforms are sexy, than I guess all Catholic school girls must be dressing for sex, right? That damn Catholic church -- always making trouble.

By the same token, does a partially clothed woman promote the spread of AIDS? Some Nigerian priest is arguing that by allowing Swazi women to parade around with their boobies hanging out, they're somehow saying it's OK to have unprotected sex. Somehow I'm failing to see the logic. Bare hooters=unsafe sex?

What's particularly funny is the response: ""It is evident that Apostle Saint Ekho is ill-informed about Swazis and their culture," senator Masalekhaya Simelane said. "Swazi men are attracted by women's naked thighs not their breasts."

So does that mean a woman displaying a bare thigh is promoting unsafe sex? What the fuck? I understand seeing a naked woman is sexually stimulating to the average heterosexual male, but does that mean a] the man can't control his sexual impulses, and/or b] throws caution to the wind upon laying his eyes upon a nekkid rack?

I think someone's trying to generate a "Get out of Jail Free" card for men who rape.

And this is all related to a discussion I've recently seen at two places -- should women be able to serve combat duty in the military? The arguments I've heard against it are these:

• men won't be able to mentally handle seeing women hurt or killed in combat
  
• men and women in close quarters for extended periods of time can only lead to hanky panky and will result in their focus not being on the task at hand
  
• it's a bad idea to have men and women together because the men will be turned on and that could lead to rapes
  
• women aren't as strong as men and therefore not qualified for combat duty
  
• women aren't mentally fit to serve combat duty because they are fragile and nurturing
  
• women are crazy a week out of every month because of PMS and their periods

To all of these, I say bite my ass. The first couple of these assumes that men and women [but men, in particular] have no control over their impulses. If you see a titty, you have to jump on it. Any woman is going to make you into an uncontrollable animal, so why put that temptation in the way? Men are nothing but sex machines, incapable of reigning in their hormonal urges. I find this ludicrous -- if that were really the case, nothing in this world would work right. Things would come to a complete halt. I'd like to give all of us credit for being able to reel it in and keep our hands to ourselves. I think we learned that in Kindergarten.

And then there's the stupidity attached to women being delicate flowers. I will admit that you might not give a woman a job of dragging something super heavy unless she's a body builder. But women generally have better eyesight and balance than men, so their shooting skills are automatically going to be better. Women generally have higher pain thresholds and have better concentration than men, and that means they're just better suited for combat situations. Men are usually going to be physically stronger than most women, but how often are you going to get in a fist fight with the opposing army? Mostly it's shooting at each other, or flying bombers. As for PMS -- listen up: I've never had PMS in my entire life. Not all of us get it, and some of us even use it as an excuse just to be a bitch. Sure, cramps suck ass, but there's good medication that can either prevent your period all together or make the pain go away for a good percentage of sufferers. And if you're in combat, you'll probably getting the medication to prevent your period all together.

I wish this would put all of the ridiculous excuses to rest, but there's always going to be some old-fashioned conservative bonehead out there who can't see past his or her own crazy ideas. Because women should be cooking and making babies, and men can't control the desires of the penis.

Assholes.

---

I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said:

If you can't trust me with a choice,
how can you trust me with a child?

This is a great argument [and basic] argument for keeping abortion legal, but it's also the basis of a really good argument for a lot of things. While I realize that suing the shit out of whoever the hell you want is a basic right, it just seems like we're all just using the judicial system as one big Get Out of Jail Free card when it comes to the stupid shit that we do.

Let's take, for instance, the latest ridiculous suit that seeks to prohibit the consumption of Oreos by minors. You know, because Oreos are dangerously high in trans fat and minors obviously can't be trusted to make even the most basic of decisions for themselves.

And you know, there aren't other really horrible for you food available. If you take away the Oreo, there isn't Krispy Kreme donuts or Big Macs or a myriad of other foods with 1000% of it's calories from bad fat, right? Did it ever occur to anyone that maybe little Johnny or little Jolene wouldn't be morbidly obese at the age of 8 if Johnny Sr. and Jolene Sr. made good choices for them at home? Maybe took the Playstation controls out of their little chubby hands and forced them to, oh, I don't know, go the fuck outside? Trust me, if I'm eating fairly healthy the rest of the time, an Oreo now and then isn't going to make me into a ticking fucking blocked coronary time bomb.

It's called responsibility for our choices. It isn't up to Nabisco to make Oreos less dangerously fattening. It's up to parents to instill healthy eating habits in their kids. It's up to parents to help their kids understand the importance of nutrition and exercise. And if I want to eat a fucking cookie, I will. Because I, unlike the smacked ass litigious fucks around the world, understand the consequences of my actions and accept those consequences. Grow up.

[link found via Confetti Falling]

---

So. If I had ties to terrorism, was funded by terrorism...I'd be arrested, right? So why is Bechtel rewarded for the same behavior with the Iraq reconstruction project?

According to an article in the May 5 issue of New Yorker magazine, several bin Laden family members -- part of a large, Saudi Arabian family that made a fortune in the construction business -- invested about $10 million in a private equity fund operated by former subsidiary of Bechtel before Sept. 11.

Fremont Group, a San Francisco-based private investment firm, once was a unit of Bechtel, and its board still includes Bechtel CEO Riley P. Bechtel and former U.S. Secretary of State and former Bechtel President George P. Shultz, along with several current Bechtel directors.

To be fair, the Fremont Group spokesperson denied this connection should be relevant because "the family had no ownership stake in Fremont and its investment was made 'well before the events of Sept. 11.' " So if I had been funded by the family of a known terrorist, let's say, five years ago, it's OK? The government wouldn't be nosing around in my garbage and tapping my phones and perusing my library records?

You know, is it too much to ask for a government that is honest about their dealings? I haven't had a good feeling about the government during my entire adult life. I'm so jealous of older adults that had the luxury of having a President and a government they could trust, that wasn't trying to fuck them over and steal everything they work for in the interest in making themselves richer. I just want representation that I'm not embarrassed of. I want to be able to go to a foreign country and not need to know the phrase for "No, I am Canadian" because being an American is too risky and humiliating. I want the kind of government that I can be so proud of that I can stand up in the middle of any street in the world and proclaim my nationality without fear of being ridiculed or killed.

Is it too much to ask for?

---

What is it about free stuff that makes people into inconsiderate morons?

Some of you may know that in addition to my professional panhandling duties, I also manage a program that takes fresh-faced young professionals and molds them into ruthless Board whores [the less sarcastic version of this is the program trains people to successfully sit on a non-profit Board of Directors]. It's a free service to donors of a certain dollar level, but others around town charge upwards of $2000 for the same service.

So anyway, my first session of this year's program is this evening. Weeks ago I sent the fucktards who signed up a welcome letter stating very clearly that this evening's session is MANDATORY in order to graduate. I kid you not, in the last two days I've gotten at least one call every two hours from some putz telling me they can't make it tonight and could they get the materials mailed to them and they'll see me next session. And then I have to explain that, in accordance with the welcome letter they received, they will be ineligible for the program if they miss tonight's festivities.

So now it's so late that none of the wait-listed people can fill the spots and I have almost ten empty spots for this year's program.

I fucking hate these people.

---

Just a couple of things:

1. Enough with the French bashing already. I understand that a particular breed of Americans has bought into this idea that the French people and the French government are just bad, bad, bad. I know that people like to claim that without the U.S. the French would be speaking German right now. Well, blah blah blah. Without the French we'd be having high tea in the afternoon, how about that? At least Chirac has the decency to listen to what his citizens have to say. So piss off.
   
2. I hate the rhetoric that answers the question "What is war good for?" by saying it ended slavery, Nazism, Communism, and whatever else. Guess what? All those things still exist. So piss off.
   
3. I'm sorry you don't like that there are still protestors making their voices heard. But guess what? You don't make the rules -- we all have the right to be heard, regardless of whether the war has started or not. It's a basic right promised to us as Americans: the right to free speech. So bitch all you want, because that's your right. But piss off anyway. Mind your fucking business.
   
4. Boo-fucking-hoo that the Academy Awards are still going on. Going on with the show doesn't disrespect the military or downplay the fact that there's a war going on. There's no fucking way to win with you people -- if they have the show, it's a slap in the face to the soldiers, and if the show doesn't go on the damn stars are self-important twits. Piss off. Watch another fucking channel. I understand CNN is all war, all the time. Watch that so you can see all the people dying. It's what you want, isn't it? For us all to be glued to the set, wringing our fucking hands in despair?
   
5. I'm sick of people trying to pretend that this all about helping the Iraqis. It's not -- accept it. It might be a little bit about trying to liberate the people of an oppressed regime, but it's mostly for economic reasons. So piss off.
   
6. Helen Thomas is not a fucking twit. She hasn't kept her position in the press corp for this long without learning a thing or two. Just because she asks questions that you don't like and the administration doesn't know how to answer does not make her a fucking idiot. Pay attention, bozo. And piss off.
   
7. For those of you who think that anti-war rallies are a waste of time, thanks -- we already know that. We know that no one is paying attention to those of us who just want peace. I'm glad you think that holding rallies to encourage Saddam and co. to step down, go into exile, etc. would have helped more. I'm sure that you organized such a rally or attended such a rally, you magnanimous fuck. Piss off.
   
8. I'm glad it makes you feel safer know that the U.S. is hunting a bad guy. Really, I do. I just wish you hadn't bought into the fear being propagated. Personally, I feel more at risk now. But hey, I hope you're the one who is right in this argument. But you know what? Piss off anyway for falling victim to the manipulation.

There. I've degenerated into the name calling, and viciousness and outright malicious behavior that I've been seeing all of the fucking place. I'm so sick of it all.

---

Apparently, I might not have a job for much longer.

Here at Professional Panhandlers R Us the administration is feeling the effects of a crappy stock market and people holding on to all the money they have in case fleeing the city becomes necessary. Under normal circumstances downsizing is handled with certain amount of aplomb. Healthy severences are handed out, and, even though people might not be happy about having been laid off, no bridges are burned.

At the new and improved PPRU that is not the case. All of us are being required to re-apply for our jobs in a few months. People who have been with my company for 40 years are being asked to provide a resume, writing samples, and references. If this was about an easy way to get rid of people not doing their jobs, I'd be a little less offended. But it's not.

It's about getting rid of anyone who makes too much money, and then not having to pay severence packages.

Isn't that the shittiest thing you've ever heard, especially in this economy and coming from a non-profit agency that claims to care about people?

I'm told that I don't have much to worry about. I'm told that the Vice President, who is the main boss of my rather small department, loves the work that I do and he will try to protect me. The only thing I might have to worry about is being hired back at a lower salary and having to pay more for my insurance. Yeah, I sure don't have much to worry about, do I?

This whole situation is absolutely disgusting to me. I'm toying with the idea of just not re-applying for my job and collecting unemployment for a few months. Right now I'm trying to determine if I'd make enough money on unemployment to survive.

It looks like company loyalty is a thing of the past.

Anyone need a personal chef or personal shopper?

---

OK, so you know how all the pro-war people are so fond of citing the fact that Hussein has weapons of mass destruction and chemical/biological weapons [which the U.S. sold him. Oops, did I say that?] that could be used in an attack against the U.S. if Hussein sells them or gives them to al Qaeda? I think someone forgot to give those crazy al Qaeda guys a memo stating that an attack on the U.S. had to be done with weapons from Hussein. Crazily enough, I'm hearing reports that an attack on the U.S. right now is as likely as it was on Sept. 11. Considering the Sept. 11 attacks were, in part, based on the U.S.' presence in the Middle East during the last war, I'm shocked, I tell you, that this could be happening right now. Just shocked.

Oh yeah, and one of the likely scenarios is that terrorists plan to attack nuclear plants...you know, something that itself can be used for a weapon. Or, even better, that subways are at risk from a poisonous gas attack. Woohoo! An added challenge to taking the subway to work every morning.

Thanks George! I'll be sure to show my appreciation for your selfless actions next year during the election!

---

Has anyone seen the recent slew of anti-drug commercials that target marijuana usage? I particularly want to barf when the one with the pregnancy test and the "they'll be the youngest grandparents on the block" crap comes on.

I was never a huge pothead, but I used to smoke a joint every now and then. While stoned, the worst thing that ever happened to me is that I dinged my head off every available surface because I was throwing my head back while laughing hysterically. I was never raped or had any "problems" making "safe, smart decisions about sex - including saying no," as the Office of National Drug Control Policy asserts is normal. Almost everyone I know has smoked pot and cigarettes, but the majority are addicted to smoking cigarettes, despite the fact that the ONDCP contends that "marijuana smoke contains 50 to 70 percent more of some cancer causing chemicals than does tobacco smoke."

I would like to know where these people get their facts.

Not to mention that some of their ads are so incredibly high-handed and silly. How many people buy a bag of pot from a complete stranger? My college connection grew his own plants in a hydroponics lab he set up in an old steamer trunk he kept in the closet of his dorm room. The very idea of him packing heat, cruising the streets for customers, meeting with his terrorist supplier is so ridiculous it's not even funny. I can maybe understand that kind of thinking with manufactured drugs because those usually involve a network of people [and I suppose they could have ties to terrorism], but pot? Give me a break.

I'm one of those people who thinks drugs should be legalized. Alcohol is legalized, and enough of it fucks up your reality just as much as illegal drugs. Alcohol and cigarettes are just as bad for you as most illegal drugs and just as addictive. Yet illegal drugs are, well, illegal. Why? I've never understood that whole weird, double standard dynamic. I don't know too many people who make alcohol in their bathtubs anymore -- why would you when you can get it at the store? The same would happen with illegal drugs. It would cut down on violence, the number of prisoners in jail, and the inordinate amount of money spent every year on the "War on Drugs" could be spent on something useful, like sex education or providing quality daycare or providing literacy training.

I understand that a lot of these ads in the campaign are aimed at scaring people. Like most wars the U.S. government wages, it's all based on fear. Maybe if you show the pothead girl in the ad getting pregnant enough times, it'll scare little girls into not trying pot.

Or maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass.

---

Oh now, hold up!

If I had opened up my luggage after arriving Paris, or after having arrived back into Philadelphia and found a note in my luggage from a baggage handler -- about anything -- I would fly into a rage that would know no equal. And for one of those asshats to assume that being anti-war means being anti-American and having the nerve to leave a lovenote in there is the most unbelieveable thing I've heard today.

It's bad enough that we all have to leave our luggage unlocked now, leaving perverted buggage handlers and security people free to rummage through my fine washables and sniff the crotch of my undies if they so desire [among other, more disgusting things they could do in my luggage]. And now I have to worry about getting a nastygram in my luggage about my preference to oust Hussein from power without going to war?

I hope the baggage handler, or whoever left the note, gets fucking crucified for the incident. I hope the press grabs hold of this story and absolutely destroys him. I want to find out all the horrible things he's responsible for in his past. If he kicks puppies for fun in his spare time, I want to know about it. And then I want him to have to go through life being judged for it.

I don't know how many times I can explain my position to people who claim to be behind going to war because Hussein is a killer of his own people and a potential killer of other people, or people who claim to be pro-war because Hussein has been ignoring a UN resolution for the last umpteen years. They all seem to equate anti-war with anti-U.S., pro-Saddam, pro-terrorism, anti-U.S. troops instead of what it really is: pro-peace. The U.S. government is willing to ignore the UN and go to war because Hussein ignores the UN? What kind of sense is that? Is Hussein not killing his own people quickly enough that we have to go in with the largest bomb ever created so we can kill the people we're claiming to want to save?

If it's naive of me to believe that Hussein can be removed from power and/or disarmed without going to war and killing huge numbers of Iraqis and exposing U.S. troops to who knows what kind of biological weapons, than I choose to be naive. But don't you dare call me a traitor, or anti-American -- I will hunt you down and do bad things to you [and not in a good way].

---

When you have a "discussion" with someone, what does that mean to you? Talking like two [or more] rational adults, both of you debating certain points, each of you having facts to back of your argument, etc., right?

Hmmm. our little Matty must not understand that concept -- he thinks a discussion is telling a complete stranger to leave the country because the stranger doesn't agree with him. His home life must be really interesting.

Oh yes, Matty Matt couldn't resist sending me one last email. And because this one makes even less sense the rest of them, I've posted it for your amusement. Guess what? This time, I'm a unilateralist!

Nicole, Since you are stopping the argument I guess that I have no choice but to stop the argument here. I believe you are wrong and no matter how many times you make fun of my typing skills, I will still know you are wrong. I was in the Us Army. I was a training to be a helicopter pilot, when my knee blew out and I was medically discharged. Not that it matters to you. Service of country is apparently not high on your prority list. Concerning your "stat" about gulf war syndrome, you further advance my argument of disarming this mad man. Diplomacy you say, 17 U.N. resolutions, 12 years , millions of Iraqis dead. Diplomacy has run its course and has failed. You are the unilateralist. Thank you for the willingness to discuss, Matt

So who's buying the helicopter pilot story?

As usual little Matty has chosen to ignore the majority of my last email to him, and focused on trying to negate my accusations that he lacks a mastery of the language. Typos, you say? You wish.

And really, I'd love to know how exposing thousands more U.S. soldiers to the chemical weapons housed in Iraq while we're attempting to "disarm" the country "further advance[s]" Matt's "argument." But, hey, I'm a unilateralist.

And thus ends this chapter of Idiot Theatre.

Thank you, don't forget to tip your waitress.

---

I'm not sure why, but little Matty has sent me yet another email. And, apparently, this time it's personal since his emails are less and less coherent.

Nicole, It makes me very proud that you can think however you want in this country, which once again makes your motives for leaving all the more questionable. Why leave? That your call and I won't speculate. As for what I believe a real American is: a person who give a GUIDED, informed opinion on issues that they have researched and can speak informatively about. Your comment about accents and generations once agian shows your ignorance. My father was born in Italy and speaks with an accent. That however has nothing to do with my position in regards to the war to liberate Iraq. Have you ever heard of WWII, Saddam, much like Hitler kills his own people,and people like you were saying the same thing in the late 1930's, oh yeah until the Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor. Let us speak now, not of our justification of speech, but of facts. I would like to know your reasons for appeasement. And "i hate uhuhuh bush" is not a reason, on the contrary it is an excuse, and that,nicole, is something that the world already has too many of.

Thank you and eagerly awaiting response,
Matt

Honestly, I don't even know what to say. So here is my response:

Matthew,
This will be my last email to you -- I'm sure you are heartbroken that I won't be wasting anymore of my time trying to convince you to read a newspaper or two [note: thanks to John for that pithy suggestion], and think for yourself.

I'm beginning to think you're loaded while reading my emails. Some of the "information" you're getting from what I've written seems like you're skimming and only reading some of half of what is there. There's nothing like "showing your ignorance" by poorly formed arguments and a complete disregard for correct usage of the English language. And as for your assertations of what a real American is, well, you have surely proven yourself not to be one.

In point of fact, I do not hate President Bush. I think he and his staff are foolish for not attempting diplomatic means of disarming Hussein. While you're waving your arms around insisting that our government HAS tried diplomatic means, take a look around. I agree that our government has participated in diplomatic means, but more can be done before U.S. troops are sent in to bomb the crap out of Iraq. With the amount of fire power being spoken of, and Rumsfeld threatening the use of the nuclear weapons, who do you think will be left to reap the benefits of a free Iraq? Those Iraqi people you're so concerned about will now not be killed by their own government, they'll be killed by ours. Will that make you feel like this war was justified? Or how about this statistic -- 16,000 Gulf War vets have died since 1991 from the so-called Gulf War Syndrome. No one has figured out what caused it, but the leading contender is chemical weapons used in Iraq during the first war. Is it a good idea to send in more troops to be exposed to whatever chemical weapons Hussein possesses?

This is what you can't seem to grasp: I am not pro-Hussein. I don't believe he should remain in power. I just don't think a war that hardly anyone supports is the way to end the insanity. Instead of you asking me why I haven't moved to France, I should be asking you why you aren't in the armed forces. You seem so gung ho to send soldiers to fight and possibly be exposed to chemical weapons and maybe die that I am surprised you aren't front and center, leading the charge.

I hope you enjoy another exciting semester at LSU, snug in your dorm.

Best wishes,
Nicole

I doubt poor Matthew will be able to wrap his head around that, and I'm sure I'll get yet another email about how wrong I am and maybe some more weird crap about light bulbs and France, stopping the buck, and who knows what else.

Sleep well, sweet Matthew. I'm sure one day you'll grow up and be a fine, upstanding adult. Count sheep and think good thoughts.

---

Why is it that everytime legislation dealing with abortion is introduced into the Senate my face starts to twitch uncontrollaby?

I've ranted about abortion before, and others have discussed this latest legislation very well. But I really get worried for my rights as a woman when this whole discussion comes up.

Here's the thing -- I don't know many people who are pro-abortion. An abortion is something that you do as a last resort. Whether it's for health reasons, or you decide that you just can't raise a baby on your own, or whatever -- rarely do you find someone who looks forward to having an abortion. The most that can be said for those of us who would keep abortion as an option, is that we are pro-choice.

And that's what this all comes down to -- someone feels like they know what's best for me, and wants to take away my freedom of choice.

I know that anti-choice groups say, "But what about the baby, what choice does he or she have?" All I can say is that 85%-ish of abortions are performed within the first 13 weeks of pregnancy -- it's not much of a thinking entity within that time. It's more like a pre-sentient cell clump.

Today the Senate is talking about banning late term abortions. While I am not in favor of late term abortions, I can never condone a ban on them. This is my body we're talking about here -- I am bitter that anyone should be allowed to tell me what I can and can't do with it. If I want to paint it purple and shove carrots up my ass, I should be able to. If I were trying to force an abortion on someone else, I could see people being upset about that. Why shouldn't I be just as outraged that someone is trying to force their beliefs on me?

If men could get pregnant this would never be a political issue. We would all be able to buy milkshakes at 7-11 that induce abortions. There would be National Abortion Day. Viagra and RU486 would come packaged together. But that's not how it is, and so abortion becomes political fodder.

There are a bevy of old men in the Senate today talking about what I can do with my uterus and cooter. Most of them have likely never even known someone who has had an abortion [that they'll admit to]. Most of them have never been in a situation where an abortion might be a viable option [that they'll admit to]. Let's throw a parade.

---

Poor, poor Matt.

Matthew Edison Campanella has sent me yet another email to "clear it all up for me," as he puts it. I fear for the future of our country [well, I did before this happened, but now I'm particularly depressed].

Nicole, I am a junior in college and I have voted on many occassions including the presidential election for the 2000-2004 term. I see once again that you are terrible misguided and assume things of which you do not know. Butt the buck stops here. When you assume you do make an ass out of yourself but you won't make an ass out of me. Have you left for France yet or have you found that your misguided assumptions are wrong? Thank You Matt

My favorite part of this little lovenote is the half sentence "Butt the buck stops here." What? I have no idea what that means, plus he spelled "but" wrong. Obviously debate was never Matt's strong suit. Or English, for that matter. I can easily count three spelling mistakes and numerous grammatical atrocities. Matt's version of a "real American" is, no doubt, someone who can speak the language, kind of.

So what do you say to a kid like Matt [and, by the way, I don't consider college students kids unless they act like children]? I told him to think for himself. I told him to stop being a sheep. Considering the upbringing in the backwoods of Louisiana that I'm assuming Matt had, he should be very familiar with sheep [and the movie Deliverance]. I laid it out for him in very small words so that he could understand. I told him that hate isn't a good thing.

I'm sure that none of what I say will resonate with him, or make him realize the error in his own misguided ways. But it made me feel better to send a reply, and to out him here as a total schmuck.

---

Sometimes I really love being me.

Take just now, for instance. I got home from work, came up to my studio to check my email, and received a nastygram from some putz with an attitude over some remarks I made on Hate Central.

Here is the text of the email:

Nicole, Please move to France and please never come back. We real Americans do not want or NEED you here. Go to France where they will take you as seriously as a light bulb. Please email me back so that I can further tell you how misguided you are.

Thank You
Matt

Heee!

I really like to know who is trying to insult me. So I did a Google search on his name -- nothing. So I noticed he's a student or faculty member at Louisiana State University. As most university's do, LSU has a student directory online.

What is especially hilarious is that the LSU directory lists students home address and phone number. Matt's middle name is Edison, and he's a Pre-Business Administration major. I think his parents were a little hopeful when they gave him his middle name -- he certainly isn't living up to it.

Anyway, not that I would ever post such sensitive information for someone who so obviously can't argue his way out of a paperbag, but what would stop me from launching a full-fledged reign of terror against poor old Matt? What would stop me from sending over one of my misguided relatives with a baseball bat? According to Matt, I'm not a real American so I am certainly not bound by it's laws not to stalk someone.

To be honest, I love it when college freshmen who have likely never voted in an election try to tell me how to live my life. This kid has probably never even left the U.S., has gotten completely irate over a comment that I can't even find, and doesn't have the sense to go incognito when he attempts to insult a complete stranger...one who could be a psychopath.

So I emailed poor Matty back. Why? Because I want to find out just in what way I'm misguided. Or how light bulbs have anything in particular to do with the French, but that's a whole other story. Am I misguided because I believe our current administration is hell bent on going to war, no matter what? Is it misguided of me to be anti-Saddam, pro-U.S. troops, but anti-war? Is it misguided of me to be completely pissed off because my government is stripping my rights as a citizen and a woman faster than old Matt can do a keg stand at his fraternity? Am I completely off my rocker for not hating an entire country and its citizens because they take a stand against the insanity?

Furthermore, what makes an American a real American? I'm sure Matthew Edison Campanella is a full descendant of Native Americans, with the way he's throwing around the terminology. Do I have to blindly back my government, despite the stupid things they do? Do I have to resign myself to never getting to see great works of art and wonderful historic buildings if they aren't in the U.S.? Am I only allowed to speak to other real Americans?

I'm sure Matt will clear this right up for me.

---

I have the day off today...part of my "bereavement" leave from work. The Flower Show was really calling my name but it's icky out and cold and I'm depressed enough without adding the weather into it. So I'm going to hang out here at home with some of my stanky smuggled French goat cheese and a bottle of wine [obviously one of the bottles that didn't shatter in the Charles de Gaulle airport]. Maybe I'll get loaded, or maybe I'll show some restraint. I know the suspense over what choice I make will be killing you.

So I guess my big accomplishment for the day will be that I just made my yearly hooha inspection and probe appointment. I know it's strange to say but I absolutely adore my gynecologist.

Now true, I don't particularly enjoy the poking, scraping, and speculum action. But my doctor is a champ. She calls herself a "sports gynecologist" and is just excellent. And her staff is excellent. I've been going to my gyno for the last 10 years. Her staff recognizes my voice over the phone even though I [under normal circumstances] only see them once every year.

There's something to be said for a doctor who knows your family history and really pays attention. There's a lot of reason for me to be vigilant -- my mother has had both cervical and breast cancer [although both were caught really early and it's all fine now], and several of my great-aunts have died from breast cancer. I'm one mommy boob lump away from starting mammograms now, at age 31. A couple years ago I had an irregular pap and my gyno insisted I come in ever month for six months for additional testing, just to be sure.

I have yet to find a regular family doctor that I like. I've had bad primary care physicians in general -- one tried to tell me to lose 20 lbs. when I already weighed 115 [obviously this was a few years ago! *grin*] because the less weight on my knees the better, one was older than dirt and accused me of sleeping around saying it was the cause of my bronchitis. My current doctor spent two seconds with me when I went in for an annual physical. He was reading other patient's charts as I was talking to him. His office never got back to me with my test results. I'm going to assume that I'm perfectly healthy since no one left me any urgent messages.

Why is it so hard to find decent medical care? I'm on the verge of declaring Suzie my principal care physician and driving six hours to get to Pittsburgh when I'm sick. It would be a beneficial relationship -- I would be assured of a doctor who gave a shit, and she would have at least one patient who believes in the power of birth control and the evils of tobacco.

---

So right now there are just over ten inches of snow on the ground. The problem here is that it's still snowing and likely won't stop until sometime tomorrow evening. The estimate for snow is 20-25 inches.

I hate snow.

I hate being snowed in. I hate getting snow in my socks when it's my turn to shovel. I hate it when my nose runs from being super cold.

When it snows and I'm trapped in my house, I get cranky. Things like individuals who think Americans are just ridiculous by virtue of being American really irk me to no end. I'm not going to blame anyone specific, and I can even understand where the attitude comes from. We, as Americans, have a lot to answer for. But not all of us shlump around in bermuda shorts, black socks, and Hawaiian shirts, acting clueless and thinking that America can do no, and has never done any, wrong. We are not the only country to have ever made some very bad choices. England tried to exterminate the Irish and the Scottish and countless others. Germany tried to exterminate Jews and gays. France tried to take over the whole of Europe. I could list more, but I'm sure you get the point. I'm tired of having to defend myself for being an American. I'm probably not much different from any English person, or French person, or Middle Eastern person. I just want to live my life, be happy, and see peace in the world.

I'm not asking for much -- just a little bit of perspective and some common sense.

---

As with most large cities yesterday, there was an anti-war demonstration in Philadelphia. I thought about attending, but decided against it. It's not that I'm pro-war, but protestors in Philadelphia do something I completely disagree with: they interrupt traffic flow.

I know the inherent reason behind protesting is to get someone's attention so that they know you're against something. But I think it flies in the face of reason to block off streets and piss drivers off as part of that. If you expect sympathy from me to you cause, do not under any circumstances try to stop me from getting somewhere. It will just annoy the hell out of me and make me wish death on you.

I don't know how many anti-war protestors there were in Philadelphia yesterday...maybe a couple thousand. There could have been a perfectly good rally at City Hall with only the traffic circle at Dillworth Plaza shut down....or a march down the Parkway. Either of those options don't fuck with traffic too much, and people expect it. If that had been the case I would have been happy to join in the protest yesterday. But that's never the way it happens here, and I would have felt badly for keeping someone from getting to his or her job on time, or whatever.

In D.C., protestors use the Mall. In London, they protested in Hyde Park. These are protests I can get behind. Traffic doesn't get screwed up, and no one gets pissy about the protest because it interrupts them from getting somewhere. I guess I just appreciate order.

The protest rallies that got a little ugly are the ones that completely make me laugh. Let's review: your're marching for peace, but you're going to try to burn down the American Embassy? Yes, that makes perfect sense. Good job!

I completely understand that there's a rabid sense of anti-Americanism going around right now. Believe me, I'm just as outraged by the actions of the current administration as anyone else is. But I also understand the concept that the U.S. government is certainly not the U.S. citizens, just as the Iraqi government is not the Iraqi citizenry. I wish everyone could keep a clear head about that.

Craig's mother forwarded him some horrible email yesterday about how horrible Muslims are. Muslims did this, Muslims did that. Craig just rolled his eyes, and deleted it. I don't know that I could have done the same thing. In my current state of annoyance, I might have had to fire back with a diatribe about all the horrible things Christians have done over the last 2000+ years. People want to make this about religion, but it's not -- it's about arrogance and intolerance.

---

First, there's a new entry up at fisheye...so check that out.

Secondly, I'm going to kill Craig if he calls me one more time today.

I have received, in the space of 20 minutes, about a dozen calls from my beloved. I hate to be on the phone. For any reason. The phone is my enemy. He knows this, but feels the need to call me up a bazillion times every day to make small talk. Put the phone down!

Today it's all about our Valentine's Day meal. I gave him a list of stuff we needed and asked him to pick it up today while he was on the road. He made it the grocery store and proceeded to call me about every single fucking item. First it was the provolone....Honey, I can't find any provolone....Did you check the deli counter...they sell provolone at the deli counter?...Yes dear. Just ask them not to slice it. Five seconds later he calls to tell me he got the provolone. And? And nothing, he just wanted to tell me he go the provolone. Apparently he thought I was sitting at my desk, fretting over the idea that he might not find the fucking provolone. And it continued much the same for every item on the list.

Two seconds ago he called me from the wine shop....Sweetie, what wine should I get? Craig has bought wine for us at least once every month since the beginning of time. Since I know he doesn't know anything about wine [and left to his own devices will pick out the worst swill in the store], I always tell him to buy Rosemont Estates wine. I have never asked him to pick up any other wine. Why would he suddenly think I'd have some different directions for him?

Argh! Stop calling me!!!!!

---

Can you believe I got called to jury duty again already? The city of Philadelphia is about to spiral into financial ruin because of the stadium deal and a wretchedly bad mayor, but the court system can't get a computer system that flags accounts that have already served jury duty within the year.

If I have to attend jury duty my first work day back from vacation I am going to be a very unhappy woman.

I don't even understand why they bother to call me anyway. No one ever wants me on their jury. I've been mugged, witnessed violent crimes, have police officers, doctors, and nurses in my family, have criminals and drug addicts in my family, my friends and family have been sued and killed and in car accidents and committed suicide, been victims of medical malpractice. There is not one single crime that I could serve as a jury member for. And yet the city keeps calling me to serve.

Maybe it's just that I always show up. Maybe I should start being one of those people who throws away their summons and ignores it until the police come and haul my ass in jail.

---

2004 can't come soon enough.

I wonder if Shifty McMartiallawpants has ever heard of a little thing called separation of church and state. Because now he's threatening to cut federal funding to schools who don't allow people to pray.

See now, personally, I don't care if someone wants to pray in school. If you feel the need to say the rosary before a test or meditate or whatever, I don't care. Just don't expect me to do it, or give you special treatment because of it.

But the problem is that George seems to think that we could all do with a little religion-ing up, and he's just the person to give us our learning. And really, he just means that Christians should be given the right to pray. If you're Muslim, or Wiccan, or Jewish -- forget it. Take your hocus pocus and practice that shit at home.

With all the other rights he's trying to take away from us, I'm more than a little suspicious of this latest crap. What begins as George's attempts to ensure the rights of the religious will end up being a hammer to ensure those who aren't religious have no rights. It might take the form of prayers at school assemblies, with detention going to those who refuse to partake. It might take the form of classes in religion being mandatory. Who knows.

I hope I'm just being overly critical and a little crazy, but I kind of doubt it.

---

It never occured to me until recently that Title IX might cause such a furor with regard to it's effect on sports. There has always been a huge disparity in sports between males and females, and any action to make things more equal seems like a good idea to me.

As you might know, in high school I was a cheerleader and I also ran track [hurdles]. For the most part, there were just as many male sports teams as there were female sports teams. But the greatest proportion of money was spent on the boys teams. My cheerleading team had a budget of about $300.00 per year, not counting buses to get us to games. Despite the fact that my high school's basketball team never won a single game and my cheerleading team consistently won or placed in competition, we were forced to practice in the hallway without safety equipment like mats while the boys got full use of the gym. The girls track team's budget wasn't much better, but at least we could use the boys track equipment. All the boys' teams had beautiful workout facilities that the girls weren't allowed to use. They had sports trainers, and new uniforms, and preference for use of the gym.

You might say I'm still a little bitter about it.

Even in college, things weren't much better. My cheerleading team couldn't practice in the sports facilities, but at least we had use of decent workout equipment. I know that most of the women's teams had crappy equipment, but yet the football team [who has never had a winning season] got put up at the Doubletree Hotel the night before every game.

So why would anyone be upset that Title IX exists? I mean, I can't even imagine how bad things would have been for me if it didn't exist. Title IX states:

No person in the U.S. shall, on the basis of sex be excluded from participation in, or denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any educational program or activity receiving federal aid.

I can't think of a single thing wrong with that.

I can't imagine that there are still people who think that sports should be for boys, but I know there are. There are people who are outraged at the idea of a male sports team having to share money with a female sports team. But, to be honest, Title IX is only being enforced with regard to sports on the surface. In the 30 years Title IX has been in force, no school has been penalized by the NCAA for lack of compliance. Give me a break.

It seems most of the brouhaha has been created by the wrestling coaches association, who filed a lawsuit against the Dept. of Education because some wrestling programs are being canned.

A Newsday article explains,

"The GAO statistics show that though men's teams have been cut, the number of male college athletes in 1999 was 232,000 vs. 163,000 women. It's true wrestling teams have been cut more often than any other men's team, but from 1981-99, the GAO found there was actually a net increase of 36 men's college teams, while women gained 3,784.

Simply put, there is no carnage going on. Women's gains have not come at the overall expense of men. The wrestling coaches are a special- interest group that filed a lawsuit to protect itself. And you can't blame them. But their use of the word "teams" rather than "athletes" is grossly misleading."

I just don't understand.

---

Hey, so Happy Black History Month!

I've heard rumbles from people who say, "Why is there a Black History Month? There's no White History Month." To this I say: every month is white history month. Or more specifically, white male history month.

Think back to what you learned in elementary school, junior high or middle school, and senior high school. If you went to a typical school you rarely saw a black person or a woman or, really, any minority figuring heavily in American History. The school system I grew up in was a rural, almost entirely white community. The only black people in our history books were slaves during the Civil War [with a brief mention of the Underground Railroad] and the only women were people like Betsy Ross [can't show a woman doing anything outside of the domestic capacity, now can you?]

We didn't learn about Jim Crow laws, we weren't taught about Martin Luther King, Jr. Our books didn't even cover segregation and Rosa Parks. Margaret Sanger and the Seneca Fall Convention didn't exist as far as my history books were concerned. But, oh wait, Women's History Month is next month.

I haven't been near a high school-level history text in many years. I can only hope that textbook writers are learning that you can't re-write history from only one point of view. I often wonder how anyone can still be racist, when it's so obviously a fruitless endeavor. But think about how we're all educated about the history of our country. It's pounded into our heads from Kindergarten that white men almost exclusively did all the great things to create the U.S.

There shouldn't be anyone in the country who doesn't know who Susan B. Anthony is, and know why she's important [other than the fact her face is on a coin no one uses]. Everyone should know that the Little Rock 9 is not a rock band.

Even American Literature is taught as totally white-washed and male-dominated. When was the last time you saw Effie Waller Smith's poetry being taught in a high school English class? James Baldwin should be read in every high school, but the only reason I did is because I chose him for an independent project. Langston Hughes, Alice Walker, and Willa Cather are rarely covered. Instead, what are we taught? It's usually Thomas Paine, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Edgar Allen Poe. Yes, they're important writers too, but so are the others that we usually never learn about.

There shouldn't be a need to have a Black History Month or a Women's History Month. It's 2003 -- how long do we have to band-aid our educational system before people wake up?

---

So I'm on the phone with my mother yesterday morning. She called to ask about how our water pipes were faring after they froze last week. Two seconds later, Craig clues me into what was going on with the space shuttle and I told my mom. I swear that my mother must be the only person on the planet who can equate the space shuttle breaking up on reentry with my upcoming Paris trip.

This was the whole conversation:

me: Oh shit! Mom, I think you better turn on CNN. There's something horrible going on with the space shuttle. It doesn't look good.
my mom: Oh Nicki, I don't like the sound of that. Maybe you should postpone your trip.
me: What? We're not travelling via space shuttle, it's your standard issue 747 or something. You know, United.
my mom: Yeah, but everytime you go somewhere, something happens. I wish you would just stay here.
me: Um, well. To be honest with you, I'll probably be safer in Paris.
my mom: But you'll be flying overseas!

My mother has lost her damn mind. And she does this to me every time we go anywhere. Our last trip was about six weeks after September 2001. She was convinced that our plane was going to be hijacked or blown up, or we would be killed in London or run over by some crazed Anti-American foreigner who could instantly tell we're American just be looking at us.

And now because the war with Iraq is supposed to be slated to start toward the end of February, she is convinced that something awful will happen to us in Paris or in the plane. I could show her the statistics about me personally being affected by terrorist plot [I think you have a better chance of being struck by lightning a dozen times in a month], but it wouldn't matter. She's convinced that we'd be safer travelling to Podunk, Arkansas to watch a car race, like she and my stepfather do every year.

And what the fuck does the space shuttle have to do with anything? I'm not Nostradamus or anything. My international travel plans do not coincide with Bad Things on purpose. You'd swear she thinks I sit around in my art studio with my omniscent eye on the Universe, hatching evil evil plans. "I'll show those bastards," I cackle. "I'll take a trip to Europe just before something bad happens. It'll be a riddle to stump those asshats for years to come!" [insert maniacal laughter here].

Just call me Nicoladamus.

---

Yesterday I took a stroll over to the kitchenette on my floor to heat up my lunch. I stopped to chat with Roz, an assistant whose desk is closeby. Somehow we got on the subject of going to the gym. She started talking about a friend of hers who has 12 children.

12 kids? Who the fuck has 12 kids these days? My great-grandmother had 14 children but that was back in the 1910's or so when birth control still wasn't readily available and the cost of living wasn't so high.

Then Roz said something that totally blew my mind: she knows someone who has 23 children.

I know that some women really like the feeling of being pregnant, but how do you support that many kids? If you're an ideal family of two parents making the average income [from two wage earners] each kid is going to cost you approximately $170,000 to raise up to age 18. So 23 kids is going to cost around $4 billion. That's not even counting college.

Plus, you know with 23 kids that woman can't possibly work. So the husband or significant other [providing there is a husband or significant other] has sole financial responsibility for the household. And how the hell do you have 23 kids without killing yourself or others? That's a whole lot of wear and tear on your body, not to mention the exercise in patience that would have to be.

I can't even fathom having one kid, let alone 12 or 23 of them.

And now there's some moron in Afghanistan trying to break the world record for having children. He's already fathered 50 kids and has four wives. He says that neighbors give his kids food because he can't afford to feed them all, but he wants to have another 50 kids because he thinks it will be great to break the record. Who cares if most of them die of starvation, right?

People look at me like I'm evil when I tell them I don't want to have children and I don't particularly like children. But with people having 13, 24 and 50 kids I think there's someone in the world more than making up for my lack of interest. It makes me sick that there are people having kids to get government aide, or in order to have a reason not to work -- in combination with people who are having kids because they don't know how not have children due to a lack of family planning knowledge or because of religious convictions it's no wonder the world population is increasing at an alarming rate.

---

The time has come for me to mount my full on, one-woman boycott of and protest against that corporate evil-doer, Best Buy.

Let's review. It started with a bad decision to order a digital camera from Harmony computers in mid-January. What should have only been backordered a week ended up being one of these: "Well, we have no idea when it will come in, but it will be at least another two weeks." So I cancelled my order.

Craig had been yelling at me to buy the camera from Best Buy because we could put it on his Best Buy credit card and save the $300 for our trip to Paris. So I ordered it via the website last Wednesday, opting for their store pick up service. The next day Craig checks his email to get his pick up confirmation number only to discover that our camera was being shipped to some random woman in Missouri. What?

What ensues is Best Buy's crack customer service team letting it slip that there's a glitch in their computer system that caused the problem, yet treating Craig as if he is trying to steal a camera from Best Buy. It's now a week later and there is still no resolution in this case. I still don't have a camera, even though Craig's credit card was charged $300. Best Buy's customer service team doesn't have a fucking clue what's going on despite getting a daily phone call from Craig.

Yesterday I typed up a nastygram and sent it off to their corporate headquarters. It got sent to the President, Vice President of Marketing, and the Technology/ecommerce guy. They probably got circular filed. I'm completely pissed off about the whole thing.

It looks like I'm going to have to spend that $300 afterall. Bastards. But I'm cooking up some ways to make their lives hell about it. Cross me, will ya!?

*Update*
Not ten minutes after I finished writing this rant, I received a call from Craig. A corporate office representative from Best Buy just called him, apologized profusely for all the crap that we've been through this last week, and said that he is personally taking care of putting through a refund to Craig's Best Buy card and offered us a $50 gift certificate.

And people say it doesn't pay to be a total pain in the ass.

Of course, I won't believe it until I see it. But at least there are some signs of having this resolved.

---

This morning I made myself a bowl of leftover rice noodles with pork and shrimp from my favorite Chinese restaurant, Ho Sai Gai. That particular dish has made a fabulous breakfast for me on many an occasion. This morning when I got to the bottom of my bowl I noticed a weird little brown peice of something that looked like a fat grain of wild rice. I nudged it with a chopstick and flipped it over. Fucking legs!

I screamed at the top of my lungs and dropped the bowl. Craig came running into the room, thinking I was being murdered. I told him to pick up the bowl and take a look. Craig turned green and set about the business of throwing out all the leftover Chinese food in the house and tearing up the menu. Meanwhile, I am holding my stomach wondering if I can make myself throw up.

A roach! A roach in my fucking food! At the bottom of the bowl no less! I'm thoroughly disgusted. We have gotten take out delivered from Ho Sai Gai almost weekly since we moved here just over two years ago. Now I'm wondering how much extra protein I've actually consumed. I probably have some sort of roach-carried plague.

This is not the best way to start a weekend. I hope it's not an omen.

---

I'm often amazed at the books that have been banned or challenged over the years.

Lysistrata was banned for decades in the U.S. under the Comstock Law of 1873, which is still, for the most part, technically in existence [although mostly unenforced -- for now]. Lysistrata is an anti-war play. It's funny and I didn't really find anything offensive in it.

It boggles my mind that Leaves of Grass was banned. The poetry is beautiful! And why Black Beauty would ever be banned is bizarre.

But that's in the past, and we're smarter now, right? Right? I mean, who really thinks reading something and learning things is bad? That's archaic and silly.

As archaic and silly as it is, book censorship is still practiced in the U.S. A few years ago a school in Georgia required students to get parental permission to read King Lear. King Lear! Huckleberry Finn has been dropped from curriculums around the country.

Every time a school district refuses to allow The Chocolate War, The Catcher in the Rye, Go Ask Alice, or Of Mice and Men to be read for curriculum, students are deprived. I consider myself really lucky -- my school district didn't give care what we were reading. We could have been doing book reports on Playboy and they would have just been happy we were reading.

I did an independent study project on James Baldwin in my senior year. You know if an enterprising English literature teacher tried to get Tell Me How Long the Train's Been Gone or Go Tell it on the Mountain on the curriculum now, there's be a big brou-ha-ha. Those books changed my whole outlook on life. We did a segment on Ralph Ellison's The Invisible Man. I am not the same person for having read that book. And it makes me want to cry to know that people are being denied the opportunity to read that book somewhere because some bunch of assholes wants to pretend the world is a perfect place.

It blew my mind when people started to freak out over the Harry Potter books. Books about magic and dragons and other science fiction-y type of things stimulate the imagination. My collection of Piers Anthony books is massive. Yet I never once thought any of it could be real, and I'm pretty well-adjusted.

Funding is being decreased at an alarming rate for music and arts programs -- which means an entire generation of kids is growing up without access to beauty. They aren't stimulated to be creative. Books that force a person to think are being purged from required reading lists. People like to say that kids today are spiralling out of control -- violence and sexuality in teens is through the roof, obesity is on the rise. The most hilarious thing is that the people in control created that mess. They bitch about kids being apathetic, but don't want to take responsibility for educating them without teaching them to be creative or to think for themselves.

I have a myriad of reasons for not wanting to have children. But a large part of it is not wanting to bring a kid into the world in which we all live. The U.S. educational system is a big joke, the U.S. government is hell bent on destroying the environment, the economy, any semblance of world peace, and by the time my kid would be old enough to retire there will be no money in Social Security to do so. It's depressing and sick: I have no hope.

---

I should have known by the way Sassy was headbutting me and walking on my face that it was way past her time to be fed. But the sound of the rain is soothing and it puts me right to sleep. So to my utter horror and dismay, when I finally woke up and got out of bed because my bladder couldn't take it anymore, I discovered that it was late, like almost 10am. My day is a-wastin'.

Not that I have so much planned for today. There will be knitting, followed by more knitting. A shower. Maybe dinner out later at Il Cantuccio [it's the siren call of that tiramisu, I tell ya!]. I don't know why I should be so concerned, but yet I am.

Maybe I'm just afraid I'll miss more of Trent Lott backpedalling.

Has anyone noticed how good I've been lately about ignoring what's going on? Nary a word has been said here or otherwise in public because I'm trying my best to pretend it's not happening. I haven't weaned myself off the news or newspapers yet, but I'm getting much better at only having fits inside my head. There have really been no impassioned outbursts at all.

I am slowly mastering the art of ignorance. Because ignorance really is bliss.

---

Attention shoppers:
I will run your ass over if you refuse to use your legs to move out of doorways around the city. I don't care if you're five years old or 105 years old. Move. Have courtesy. Don't just stand there, because I will hip check you into the window. Trust me.

As you might be able to tell, I have just returned from my foray into last minute Christmas shopping hell. Sometimes I forget why I do all of my shopping either online or before Thanksgiving. Holiday shopping seems to bring out all of the stupid people.

How simple is it to exit the store and continue walking so you don't completely block the exit? Isn't it common sense that when you are getting off an escalator to keep fucking walking, so you don't cause the people behind you to get eaten by the escalator? What's worse are those assholes from the tour buses who decide that, even thought it's 45 degrees today, it's way too cold to stand outside until their bus comes back to pick them up and so they stand in a huge clump just inside the store -- making it impossible to get in or out of the store.

I tell you, sometimes I understand the urge to murder.

Like an ass, I tried to navigate the new Kiehl's store at 19th & Chestnut. Of course, everyone in the world was in the tiny little store, so I said 'Fuck it' and attempted to exit. This absolutely ancient woman about the size of a Keebler elf picked that exact time to cut me off and shuffle in front of me at a snail's pace. After an exhaustive couple of minutes we reach the door. Immediately upon exiting she stops and fixes her scarf and digs through her massive handbag. I am left stuck in the doorway, holding the door open which pisses off the staff because I'm letting cold air in. I can't go anywhere. I say "Pardon me" about twelve times. She ignores me. Perhaps she forgot to wear her hearing aid. Finally, after five minutes of being trapped behind the old broad, I tap her on the spindly shoulder and ask if she could let me and the 80 people behind me go by her.

I think she cursed me. I don't mean that I think she told me to fuck off...I think she literally put a hex on my sorry ass. I guess if my skin turns green and my boobies fall off, we'll know why.

But yeah, the only reason I didn't push her out of the way is because it seemed like a lawsuit waiting to happen. I did, however, have some contact with other inconsiderate fucktards today.

Sometimes I think I shouldn't be allowed out of the house.

---

When I first moved to Philadelphia in 1990 I remember one thing very vividly -- a trip to South Street. Particularly, it was a trip into Zipperhead that is my first Philly memory. I was standing there gawking at the storefront. Zipperhead always has interesting window displays. The mannequin was wearing a pair of black pants that had "Fuck SEPTA" written all over them.

'What the hell is that about?' I thought to myself.

Yes, I knew SEPTA was the public transit system in Philadelphia, but I could not for the life of me understand why anyone would have a problem. Having just moved from one of the true armpits of Western Civilization where there was no public transportation, I adored SEPTA. I was thinking of naming my next goldfish SEPTA. SEPTA was my new best friend.

Of course, having lived here in the city for 12 years I now completely understand those pants. Furthermore, I wish I had bought them. Why?

Because SEPTA sucks.

I have spent more time waiting for trains and buses that never arrive than I can possibly imagine. I read a statistic somewhere about the amount of time the average person spends waiting. The average SEPTA customer probably spends double that amount. In addition to lying about their train and bus schedules, SEPTA drivers are known throughout the land for being possibly the most miserable, spiteful, and meanest people on the planet. I could be across the street waving madly to the bus driver to wait while I cross the street to catch the bus, the bus driver will see me, wave back, give an eerie grin, and take off. They do it on purpose because it's the only joy they get in their horrible existences.

In addition to the constant lying and driver conspiracy of terror, SEPTA is the most expensive public transit in the entire country. Hell, it might be the most expensive public transit in the known world. At this moment I pay $70 for a monthly Transpass, which allows me to travel within city limits as much as I want. That's not horrible, I suppose. But if you want to purchase fare on the bus or subway, forget it -- it's now $2.00. That is for one bus ride within one zone. If you have to transfer to another bus or the subway, or you have to cross into another zone, that's an additional 60 cents. Plus, the drivers won't give you change.

Now, I realize that I'm lucky to live in a city that has a public transit system. Since I don't drive, having a public transit system is a nice perk. But if I'm paying an outrageous amount of money to use SEPTA, wouldn't you think that Philadephia's public transit system would not only be the cleanest subway system, but also on time with courteous drivers?

I've taken public transit in New York City, Washington DC, San Francisco, Seattle, and London. The only transit system dirtier than Philadelphia's is NYC.

The reason I am so anti-SEPTA today is that I had to wait at the Spring Garden el stop this morning for, oh, about 30 minutes. Keep in mind the trains are scheduled to run every five minutes or less in the morning. Also keep in mind that it's about 2 degrees outside today and the el stop at Spring Garden is very very windy. I'm totally miserable.

Where is that Sharpie marker? I'll make my own damn pants.

---

So I was totally dogged for a study date over the weekend.

I have oral exams for Spanish I on Wednesday [yes, I've heard all the jokes about "oral exams" so just quit it!]. The instructor paired us up and she's going to pick a topic and we're going to have to playact a scenario in Spanish. My partner's name is Mike, which works out great because he's from my neighborhood and his family still lives around the area. We made plans to meet at my house on Saturday or Sunday and practice our scenarios.

Right.

So the weekend passes and no word from Mike. I'm thinking he must be dead in a ditch or he had a family emergency or something. You know, positive thinking. Because if he just stood me up for the hell of it, I was not going to be pleased.

Last night he walks into Spanish class and I give him the mock evil eye. And then he tells me his excuse:

His wife wouldn't let him come out and play.

Yes, I'm totally serious. Apparently, despite having never met me, his wife perceives me to be a threat. And, despite the fact that Craig was going to be present, his wife seems to think that Mike and I were going to throw down and have a wild orgy of boundless passion on our Spanish I textbooks.

And so Mike wasn’t allowed out of the house.

I could not believe that a grown man was telling me that he needed permission from his wife to go study with a classmate. Now I know that there are married couples [and unmarried couples, for that matter] that are like that – one person sort of controls the other. But I often think of them as psychotic. Mike seems completely normal otherwise. I tried to imagine myself in the same situation, but I just started laughing. The day that I even asked Craig’s permission to do anything is the day that we would get a divorce.

That’s another part in the complicated reason why I have always been so frightened by marriage. I’ve seen what it does to people – my mother is now on her third marriage, and with each marriage she has sort of glommed on to the current husband’s interests. I have friends who got married and were never heard from again. Sometimes the couple becomes one entity, indistinguishable as separates.

That scared me to death, which is probably why Craig and I waited so long to get married – I had to be sure that I wouldn’t end up being sucked into that weird coupledom thing. So far, I have maintained my individuality – I do what I want, when I want. If I’m going out bar hopping with a friend I tell Craig I’m going and I go. I still have my own bank accounts [although we do have one joint checking account for our household bills], and I still take roadtrips with my friends. It’s completely freaky to think of myself in the kind of relationship where I would need permission.

I’m an adult, thanks.

---

The topic of conversation du jour around here has been a memo we just received from the Executive Director regarding holiday decorations. Apparently, in addition to adding that special dash of political correctness to the Christmas party holiday party Winter Celebration, holiday decorations around the office have now taken it on the nose.

My department is pretty closeknit. We all love each other and we all get each other's sense of humor. Every December we go insane and see how close we can get our department to looking like the Griswold house. I bring a vintage tinfoil-needled Christmas tree to the mix, and there's lots of tacky foil garland and over the top decorations. It's a labor of love, and we have a great time.

Apparently our display of holiday spirit sent some poor offended soul over the edge last year. So unless we can tone it down and be multicultural, our holiday decorating must be relegated to our offices.

What's funny is that the only decoration that was truly a Christmas/Christian holiday type of decoration was the tree. It's not like any of us had a full on creche scene going on, or biblical scripture being projected onto the walls. Even the holiday music wasn't of a religious nature.

So now we're trying to come up with all sorts of ways to fuck buck the system. My suggestion is to put everything up as last year, but make little bulbs for the tree that say, "Hi, I celebrate Hannukah" and "Hi, I celebrate Ramadan" and "Hi, I don't celebrate anything but holiday commercial greed." And then we can mount the Koran, the Bible, and all the other religious texts on the wall with spotlights and play a medley of holiday music from all religions/non-religions. We can then stage a play about how wonderful political correctness is, and how it just all brings us closer together.

Why can't we all just get along? But without all this mandated crap?

---

Tonight after work I have to attend a donor event and press the flesh, gladhand, and, in general, kiss a little Geritol-flavored ass. How I love events for our rich donors.

It's always pretty much the same thing. The enchanting smell of adult daipers and Bengay fills the air, while the over 90 crowd gathers together in a conspiratorial bunch -- denture cream strength in numbers. My face cheeks are pinched, my ass cheeks are patted, my shoulders are petted, I am called a "whippersnapper" and "young lady" too many times to count.

And the buffet table! It's like a plague of locusts descending on a lush town! The crowd moves down the buffet table, leaving only skeletal chicken carcasses and the spare missed olive. They debate if drinking a glass of wine will interact with their medications.

By the time we get around to giving the official "thanks for your generosity" speech, everyone is sloshed and happy they came to the party on their Rascals, which are parked haphazardly on the sidewalk.

And then there are the handful of people under the age of 80 who happen to give generously to my agency. They're usually around 40. These ten or fifteen people huddle together like wrinkled ankles are catching or something. They smile glassy grins, ready to bolt at any moment should one our centaurions keel over from a badly timed attack.

It's craziness, and I get to be the master of ceremonies. Look on the bright side: maybe I'll be run over by a car sometime today.

---

I have long suspected that the Boy Scouts of America and the Girl Scouts of America are an evil empire created to churn out girls and boys with ideals from the 1950's. You know, the boys learn how to forage in the woods and the girls learn how to forage in the kitchen, and that's the way it should be dammit! Ahem.

The organization I work for is loosely related to both the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts. Last night before I left work I received a call from an irate donor regarding our connection to the Boy Scouts. She wants to continue to give money to our organization but she doesn't want one cent of her money to go to an agency that goes against everything she believes in -- specifically, an agency that is so filled with hate that they teach children it's OK to exclude other with a different religion and sexual preference.

I wanted to tell her that she's preaching to the choir. I wanted to reach through the phone and give her a hug, and tell her that she's right, that the Boy Scouts are nothing more than a glorified hate group masquerading as a service to children. But I can't because I have to remain neutral to the donors.

The truth of the matter is that if, by some strange and crazy turn of events, I would ever have kids, I'd rather die than let them get involved with an agency that I equate with the KKK and those wacky right wing Deeply Religious hate groups led by Jerry Falwell. Is that an extreme stance to take? I don't think so.

When is it ever the moral and right thing to do to teach children that intolerance is not only well within their rights, but a societally-accepted practice? What screwed up asshole decided that we must keep children away from homosexuals [because those damn homosexuals are all pedophiles, you know....and always looking to lure the straights to the other side!] and atheists [because atheists must be bad bad people if they don't believe in god! They must be satanists, by jove!]? Who is next? Will red heads be cast out? Will the Boy Scouts start expelling people who believe in evolution?

If the Boy Scouts were a private organization I would still think they are ridiculous, but I would back their right to admit whomever their little hearts desire. But that's not the case. The Boy Scouts are a publicly funded agency. They receive their monies from public charity, umbrella fundraising agencies, and the government [big surprise]. If they're going to accept public money, then they should serve the public -- not some inclusive version of the public.

I must topple the evil empire.

---

Let the holiday induced, politically correct, work madness ensue!

Every year for the holidays my department decorates. I have this hideous vintage silver foil Christmas tree that has been handed down to me by my grandmother. It's approximately 3 feet tall and is missing the color wheel, which sort of puts a mild damper on viewing it in its full grotesqueness splendor. We put up the tree and decorate the hell out of it with random office supplies and then string cheesy foil garland over every available surface. The word came from on high this year that our display is too Christmas-centric and all decorations must now reside within our individual cubes, not in the common areas.

I wouldn't mind throwing up a menorah and stuff from other religions. I'm not religious at all, so I mostly just like to make this place funny and fun to look at. Have a hanukkah bush hanging around? Sure, we'll put it out. Do you have a special kwanzaa bonsai tree? Fine! But no, can't have that.

Political correctness has now wormed its way into our holiday party. Last week we received an email from the planners of our holiday party. Well, first of all, it is no longer called a "holiday" party because it's not a holiday for everyone. It's called the "Winter Celebration" party. Whatever. But what's even funnier is that they were recruiting people to contribute to their pageant of traditions -- they want someone to give us the low down on what they do for Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Ramadan, and [this is the best] non-practicing. Heh.

I totally want to run into the Human Resources department pretending to have my panties in a bunch and yell, "Hey! I'm pissed! How come you didn't ask for the traditions of Satanists to be included in your little Winter Celebration? I demand that my voice be heard!" And then I'd make up some crazy shit as to what a Satanist might do during Christmas, like the ritual slaying of the goat over the desecrated plastic Baby Jesus, and the symbolic gang rape of the Virgin Mary. But I'd have to present all of this while dressed like Alice Cooper in the 1970's and I'd insist on being able to have a human sacrifice as my finale. Think they'd let me do my presentation? Heh.

Alternatively, I could volunteer to give my spiel about what a non-practicing person does. It mostly revolves around pure greed and picking the best stuff from all the religions. I'd talk about how my husband and I have a rousing debate Christmas Eve about how the Bible is basically bullshit and then I'd sing the South Park song about being Jewish: "I would be happy, but I'm Hebrew."

It doesn't quite seem as splashy as pretending to be a Satan-worshipping heathen, does it?

---

Mawidge...mawidge is what bwings us togewer today...Mawidge, the bwessed awwangement, that dweam wiffim a dweam.... Ven wuv, twoo wuv, wiw fowwow you fowever...

I love the movie The Princess Bride. Mostly it's because of the wedding scene -- we wanted desparately to hire a guy who looked just like the clergyman to do a recreation of the whole scene [minus Andre the Giant et al] during our wedding, but we didn't think anyone would get it.

Wedding ceremonies are generally a major point of contention with me. They're old-fashioned and tend to trivialize women. With ours, we wanted to avoid all reference to anything religious which ended up being an easy fix since the captain of our ship married us. But the biggest problem I have is at the end when the clergyperson/justice of the peace/whoever announces that you're now "man and wife" and then presents you as "Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Doe."

Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean I become someone's property. I don't lose my identity. My first name doesn't become a moot point. So we made sure we were announced as "husband and wife" and presented as "Nicole and Craig Doe." I get totally irate when someone refers to me as "Mrs. Craig Doe." If I receive a solicitation that addresses me in this way I won't even open it -- it gets shredded and trashed.

I did, however, take my husband's name when we married. I thought long and hard about it -- I considered a myriad of alternatives. Since both our last names are fairly long, hyphenation was definitely out. There were no new combinations of our last names that were pleasing. I really wasn't completely opposed to losing my maiden name -- until a certain virus software came along, no one knew how to pronounce or spell my last name. And Craig's last name is so much cooler than mine. So I changed it.

People who know me really well are flabbergasted that I took Craig's name when we married. Honestly, they're all amazed we got married in the first place. But the name change thing still has people weirded out.

There was also one other traditional custom that I refused to take part in -- the ritual "giving away" of the daughter by the father. What kind of ridiculous bullshit is that? As if I am my father's property to raffle off to the highest bidder or something! Now, if I had a wonderful and loving relationship with my father maybe I would have felt differently about this tradition -- but I don't have many tender feelings for my dad so I refused. And my half-sister recently told me that he was really pissed off about the whole thing, which I find endlessly amusing. Here's a man who basically abandoned my family when it suited him...a guy who is a huge source of embarrassment to me...and he wants to act like he's my dear old dad? No thanks. Yeah, so we skipped that part. I walked myself down the aisle.

I hate going to weddings, particularly Catholic weddings. The whole Genuflecting to the Mary bit always fills me with rage. It smacks of male superiority and submission of the female spirit. I know that most churches have their own way of doing the Genuflecting to the Mary thing, but at my friend Ann's wedding she had to kneel on the dirty floor of the church in her pristine white wedding gown and, well, genuflect, while her groom stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder. I swear, I half expected her to turn around and service him during the ceremony as proof that she'd be a good and dutiful wife. Ewwwwww and yuck.

I'm beginning to think that jumping the broom or handfasting is the way to go -- no muss, no fuss, no crazy weird attempts to make women into subserviant Stepford Wives.

Share the pants, people -- SHARE THE PANTS!

---

While I am dancing a jig of pure happiness that Ed Rendell got elected, but I am in the lowest pits of despair that the Republicans now have control of both the House and Senate. Hold on to your butts, kids -- it's going to be a bumpy ride these next two years. With Big Johnny Ashcroft and the Shrub at the helm women will be lucky if they have any rights beyond the right to cook, clean, and reproduce by 2004.

Speaking of reproduction, my co-worker Brooke is six months pregnant. She has a 9-year-old daughter who has been asking questions about the mechanics of baby-making. What exactly to tell Brooke's daughter has been a major topic of conversation around the office during the last few days.

Brooke bought a book for her that outlines the whole process, from sex on up to the actual birth. Unfortunately the book is rather, ahem, graphic about the issue of sex. There's discussion of penis stimulation and ejaculation and all of that good stuff.

Now the girl is 9 years old. She probably knows all of this anyway. She and her little friends probably sit around during recess and giggle about peepees, etc. The girl could probably benefit from having actual information instead of information passed around her circle of friends, which might be likely to include the idea that you can get pregnant by kissing a boy for more than two minutes.

Other women around the office are appalled at the thought of giving real information about sex and the reproductive process to a 9 year old girl. I'm not exactly sure why -- a 9 year old is more than capable of handling and processing information on bodily processes.

I knew more about the technical aspects of sex and reproduction than my mother by the time I was 9 years old. It didn't traumatize me for life or convince me that I needed to run right out and try it. In my mind, an educated kid will make smarter choices than a kid who doesn't know anything or has the wrong information.

There has always been this big debate over whether teaching sex ed, providing access to birth control, and not making kids feel dirty about sex encourages kids to go out and have sex. I just don't understand why anyone would possibly think that way. Kids are going to have sex -- it's an absolute fact. If you think teaching abstinence is the be all, end all to sex education then you're just fooling yourself.

Statistically, teenage pregnancy and sexually transmitted disease rates are through the roof in areas that teach abstinence instead of actual information about sex and how to prevent pregnancy. I know that right wing, old-fashioned crones are holding onto their ideas as tightly as they can...but the truth is that kids are having sex and getting knocked up at younger ages with each passing year. Not disseminating information is ridiculous and wrong.

---

You know Christmas is right around the corner when it's time for Thanksgiving cards at work. Yep, we don't send out any type of actual holiday card in case we might offend some errant Jehovah's Witness or other non-holiday-practicing person. Instead we send out Thanksgiving cards.

It's a nice idea in theory -- I usually write in a little note wishing my donors a "wonderful holiday season." I've never received an irate note back telling me to stick it up my exclusionist ass.

I don't celebrate Christmas in the spiritual sense. Not having any sort of belief in a god sort of puts a damper on that. But I'm definitely down with the commercial aspects of the whole thing. Craig and I do this weird hybrid of Christmas and Hannukah -- we do small gifts for the eight days of Hannukah and then do a wildly gluttonous Christmas morning gift giving extravaganza. I like the whole Christmas tree thing, and decorating the house and all of that. But there's one thing that absolutely hate: Christmas carols.

I have already begun to hear the muzak strains of "O Little Town of Bethlehem" over the speakers at my local CVS drug store. I was so flustered when it came on I had to leave for fear that I would tip over their newly erected Christmas displays. Nothing sends me into a frenzy faster than Christmas carols when I'm shopping. Want to watch my head start spinning around a la The Exorcist? Just throw on your copy of "O Come All Ye Faithful" or "Silent Night."

With the holiday season and it's pre-package saccharine music comes the ubiquitous holiday albums from my least favorite singers and bands -- it's only a matter of time before Eminem puts out a Christmas album.

And then the grocery stores will convert it to muzak style and I may have to sequester myself in the house.

---

It's no secret that I absolutely hate anything remotely related to the Spice Girls. I mean it, too. Their songs give me the willies. Together they were incredibly annoying, but apart they have forged such irritating personas that I would like nothing better than to see them [singly or at a reunion] mown down by an errant bus.

I will fully admit that I laughed and laughed and laughed over this whole kidnap plot against Posh Spice. But I'm slightly puzzled. Why would anyone want to kidnap her? She seems the least fun of the bunch of them. Everytime I see her she has this pinched look on her emaciated face. If I had to kidnap a Spice Girl I'd probably take Baby Spice...at least it looks like she consumes food.

Laugh if you will at the fact that I know their names. You know what they say: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. I once had to choreograph a cheerleading routine for a bunch of 11 year olds to a Spice Girls song so believe me when I say that I consider the Spice Girls Enemy Number One. They are just pure evil.

What really cracks me up is that the gang of would be kidnappers was infiltrated by staff from News of the World. That's like the National Enquirer infiltrating Al Quaeda and capturing bin Laden. That shit is just hilarious. They must be the dumbest criminals in the entire world.

I've spent lots of time over the last half dozen years dreaming about wondering what a Spice Girl funeral would be like. Would preteens around the world mourn for their favorite tarts? Would the Spice Girls be laid to rest next to Jim Morrison in Paris, would cheesy kids from around the world make a global pilgrimage to pay homage?

I would certainly have gone out of my way next February during my trip to Paris to see the grave -- and then I'd dance the horrible dance I was forced to choreograph on top of the grave.

---

I strongly believe in having rights -- the right to free speech, the right to assemble, the right to believe whatever I want to believe or read whatever I want to read. However, I'm having problem with one right: the right to bear arms.

Now don't get me wrong: I don't think gun ownership should be banned. However, violent crime increased in 2001 in the U.S., and 2/3 of all U.S. deaths due to violent crime are gun-related. It's obvious to anyone who cares to accept the facts that this points to a real problem.

I know gun control opponents will say that guns don't kill people -- people kill people. Well, yeah, that's true. But in a country were there are so many people being gunned down it seems criminally insane not to support some type of gun control. I also know that gun control opponents will say that if current gun laws are just enforced, more gun control laws aren't needed. Could someone please point me in the direction of the gun laws that aren't being enforced?

The current U.S. administration is bought and paid for by the NRA. The Shrub opposes government mandated gun registration and gun "fingerprinting." He opposed mandatory child safety locks. When Bush was governor of Texas he signed a peice of legislation that allowed just about anyone to get a concealed weapon license, including convicted felons. Why? What's wrong with gun registrations, fingerprinting, and child safety locks? Why should a convicted felon be allowed to carry a concealed weapon just because they passed a class on gun safety?

Other countries are pointing to the recent sniper attacks and wondering why U.S. citizens should be so surprised. We have the most lax laws on guns in the world and the highest gun violence statistics in the world. Everyone wants to chalk it up to the two suspects as being crazy in the head. I suppose if they had it in their heads they wanted to kill people, they could have just as easily used a bow and arrow. But are we really that surprised that two crazies got their hands on an assault rifle? Don't they sell those at K-mart now?

I don't know what the answer is, but things will never change as long as the NRA continues to throw money at politicians.

---

Heads up people -- the current U.S. administration doesn't care about women. This should come as no surprise -- the Shrub, Ashcroft, and friends have made it perfectly clear that they wish women would just shut up and scamper back off to the kitchen to make pies and babies.

The Shrub has now put his foot down: no money for poor countries to combat HIV and female genital mutilation, and provide family planning services. Never mind that both houses of Congress approved the spending, never mind that $100 million is spent on "promoting marriage" every year [well, marriage for heterosexuals anyway].

What have women done to George W. Bush to incur this wrath? First, he opposes the United Nations’ Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW). Then the Bush administration drafts a policy that would allow states to define "an unborn child" as a person eligible for medical coverage under the Children's Health Insurance Program. Does anyone remember when the Bush administration sought the dismissal of a class-action lawsuit filed against Japan on behalf of hundreds of Asian women who said they were forced into serving as sex slaves during World War II. Why? Because our government needs to make nice with Japan.

Let's not forget the Shrub's attempts to restrict access to abortions and RU486, as well as the push for an end to mandatory contraceptive coverage for federal employees.

I could go on and on. George W. Bush seems hell bent on making sure that the rights of women are crushed below the heel of his oppressive regime.

The next election cannot come fast enough.

---

Last night when I got home from school I received a call. It was a woman with a very thick accent, and I could barely understand a word she said. I knew it was a sales call, in part because I don't know anyone with an accent like that, and also because she totally mangled my last name.

Me: Is this a sales call?
Salesgirl: No, this is a courtesy call. I'm calling because you're a preferred customer of Providian Bank. Now you can get a credit increase of $200 just for trying a new service we're offering. You can save up to 50% on your bill at restaurants around the country! All you have to do....
Me: OK, you just lied to me. This is a sales call. If you or anyone else from your company calls and lies to me again I will no longer be a customer at Providian Bank.

Now I know there's a better way to deal with these assholes. That way: the Anti-Telemarketing EGBG Counterscript [via Christine]. Since I usually get a sales call at least once every night [despite putting my name on Pennsylvania's Do Not Call list...don't get me started] I believe I'm going to be able to try this out this evening!

Screaming into the phone is getting a little old.

---

My life is now complete: I was referred to as Bootylicious.

I'm getting a little ahead of myself. As you may recall, I left Philadelphia Thursday after work and left Go Fish in the capable hands of Mrs. Roboto and Iain from No Pips. The side stops that Christy needed to take before we got our little road trip underway ended up taking three extra hours instead of 1.5. Which means we got into Virginia Beach at almost 2 am.

Did I mention that Christy fell asleep at the wheel half a dozen times and almost killed us? If not for the fact that I was wide awake in absolute terror so I could scream like a little girl and hit Christy in the arm when she was headed for the guardrail, we might be lying dead in the proverbial ditch right now.

Ahem.

So Friday night Sharon, Christy, and I got all pretty and went out. I think it must be monsoon season in Virginia Beach/Norfolk right now -- it poured down hard, cold, stinging rain. So the prettiness didn't last very long but it didn't seem to matter. I understand that there are several military bases in the immediate area, but these guy are, um, well, plentiful, aggressive, and seemingly desparate.
I think I'm overstating the ugly factor here. We, in fact, didn't look bad...only slightly bedraggled. In comparison to the other girls who hang at Bar Norfolk, we were like beacons of beauty, grace, and style. Oh, and we were wearing actual clothing. That's apparently not a popular option in the club scene right now. I think I saw a girl actually wearing pasties on her huge bajumbo fake boobs. It was icky.

Yeah, so we're dancing and about 50 sailors descend on us. Maybe we were the only three people they hadn't hit on yet.

Let me explain something to you about me: I have issues with personal space. If I don't know you, you should not come up to me and grind my hip, my ass, or any other part of me with your penis. If you place your hand on me before I see your face, expect to get your hand back missing digits.

Don't get me wrong -- I don't mind being in the mix on a crowded dance floor. But I can tell the difference between accidental touch and trying to get into my panties touch. Even when I was single I didn't like to be manhandled by a random stranger, but now that I am married I'm much more...stringent about things.

I think you can see where I'm going with this: I may have broken some guy's finger.

We were dancing in this crowd of testerone when one of them attempted to play "Tune in Tokyo" with my apparently unresistable rack. I did the only thing a girl with decorum could do -- I grabbed one of his hands and bent all his fingers back as hard as I could. One of them seemed to be hanging at a funny angle, but he backed away slowly clutching his hand. The rest of the pack sensed that I wasn't looking to get laid and kept their distance.

So one brave soul actually came up and talked to me while I was getting a beer. I don't mind people who just want to talk. He was a nice guy in town for a training week, usually stationed in Long Island, NY. So we're talking and then it happened: he called me Bootylicious. I think I started to giggle, then laugh uproariously, and then started to hiccup. How can you take someone seriously who calls you Bootylicious?

---

I understand why companies feel the need to warn of every possible danger associated with their products. In this atmosphere of litigation-happy fucktards [™ BeerMary], it's all about covering your ass. If Cletus gets out his brand new steam iron and attempts to iron his dungarees while they are actually on his body and burns himself silly, DumbJoe Steam Irons can't be sued for negligence because they have attached a tag to the iron that says "Do not iron clothes while on body." If Peggy Sue is allergic to nuts but eats a handful of Dumass Mixed Nuts and then dies, the Dumass company cannot be sued by Peggy Sue's family because they have a warning right on the label: "This product contains nuts."

The thing that frightens me is that in order for a warning to be on a product, something had to have happened. Have you ever read the warning label of a hairdryer? It warns us not to dry hair with it while in the bathtub or shower, and also tells us that using your hair dryer while sleeping is not a good idea. What that says to me is that Junior was in a hurry so he took a bath and dried his hair simultaneously. Junior dropped the hairdryer into the bathtub, got fried, and then his family sued the hairdryer manufacturer because it wasn't plainly stated that dropping an electrical appliance in water in which you are standing is a Very Bad Thing.

When did we start blaming others for our own stupidity? Furthermore, when did we start being rewarded for being stupid? The guy who is suing several fast food chains for jeopardizing his health should not be rewarded for being a moron. The man has had two heart attacks and has diabetes and admits to eating fast food half a dozen times every week. Is he mentally deficient? Does he live in a box? Has he never visited the doctor's office who told him to lay off the fries?

It particularly enrages me when idiotic people sue and then win cases [read: MONEY] over things that are so blatantly their own fault. A woman sues a furniture store because she tripped over a loose kid and broke her ankle. The kid was her own. It's not the furniture store's fault the woman can't control her kid. An orthopaedic surgeon sues a sneaker manufacturer because she fell when her shoe laces came untied. Well double knot your laces you dumbass!

Pretty soon we're going to have to sign release forms when entering buildings, purchasing things, or going out to eat at restaurants. We'll have to sign away our rights when going to theater in case the pop corn is too hot or too unhealthy.

Maybe I should sue the people suing over stupid things for mental anguish.

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Is anyone else surprised that no one in the media or the U.S. government has attempted to link the sniper attacks in the D.C. area to al Quaeda-sponsored terrorism?

My bets are on some seriously disturbed, militia-obsessed, NRA-crazy loon [and maybe his friends]. And while I'm not a supporter of mob retribution violence, I understand the instinct. What is a good punishment for someone like this?

I understand that the U.S. criminal justice system is in place to not only punish and/or rehab those who have committed a crime, but also to protect the rights of criminals. I don't disagree that some criminals should have rights. I'm just not sure people who murder should have the same rights as some guy who smokes pot and got caught three times.

I'm not sure I believe that murderers can be rehabilitated. I certainly don't want to live next door to Charles Manson, should he ever be paroled. Like Iain and Shannon said a few days ago -- some people just don't understand the idea of consequence. You might have the urge to do something like throttle the person in line at the Dunkin' Donuts who holds up the line by paying in pennies, but you understand that by doing so you risk being arrested and sued. People who murder [generally speaking, of course] other people never developed a healthy sense of consequence, and I honestly don't think that jailing them for any amount of time and providing them with counseling will help them to develop it.

So when the authorities catch the person[s] responsible for the sniper attacks what should be done with him/her/them? While I know some of you will argue that the killer[s] probably has emotional problems/couldn't help themselves/had a bad childhood, I would like to propose that this person's rights be suspended and be sentenced to a more creative punishment.

I have long supported death row inmates and "lifer" inmates being used for medical experimentation. Like with animal experimentation, I don't believe they should be used for frivolous experimentation [who doesn't know that drinking lye is not a good idea?], but why not use them as test subjects for drugs to cure cancer or drugs to cure sickle cell anemia or M.S.?

I know how that sounds -- it sounds like I'm a cold, callous bitch who doesn't care about people. The thing is that I do care about people. I just don't care about someone who shot eight strangers and killed six of them. It's an extreme idea that will never happen. In my ideal world it would happen. Of course, in my ideal world there would never be a need for it.

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I saw a promo for the Maury Povich show today, and I started wondering what things must be like in the Maury Povich and Connie Chung home.

Doesn't it seem like it must be the equilvalent of a Nobel Prize winner being married to an adult with a fifth grade education. They say you learn everything you need to know in the first grade, but...well, it just seems all wrong.

The problem is that I'm equating intelligence with job. I know that's not true [um, I could name a certain politician that proves that point, but he shall remain nameless for the sake of maintaining the peace]. I'm sure Maury is a smart guy. And, of course, maybe Connie is a dim bulb -- just because she's a Serious Reporter doesn't mean that she can find her butt with both hands [what is with the theme of ass running through my posts today?].

But I imagine that Connie comes home from work, sits her briefcase on the counter, takes her jacket and shoes off. Maury is already home and is waiting for her in the living room of their massive estate. Maury asks Connie how her day was, and Connie says she interviewed Stephen Hawking. Hawking announced during the interview that he has unlocked the secret meaning of life.

And then Maury says he did a show today about closet case drag queens who love animal sex and big guns and want to come out to their uber-religious families.

How does that work? Maybe they both just leave their respective work stories at the office, come home and watch America's Funniest Home Videos together or something.

In alot of ways, the two of them remind me of Marilyn Monroe and Arthur Miller. Marilyn was supposed to be the dumb one and Arthur Miller is brilliant. But I'm sure that, in reality, they were happy to be together and play checkers.

I guess that's what true love is -- it doesn't matter what either of you do for a living or your IQ. With Craig, it has always seemed unimportant that I make a little more than he does or that I went to college and he didn't. It's just this thing that I recognize in him -- a spark of something. I'm not sure I believe in the concept of the soulmate, and I'm not sure I believe in reincarnation, but if those things exist Craig is surely my soulmate and we've known each since the beginning of time.

Love is love, no matter where you find it or in what form it comes in [animal sex and pedophilia, notwithstanding]. If you understand that to deny love is to deny yourself true happiness [and, if you believe in this sort of thing, a gift from the Universe or from your god], than you can't possibly have any prejudices. Gay, hetero, black, asian, white, quadrapeligic -- love is love.

The more I meet people who think homosexuality is wrong or interracial dating is wrong, the more I come to realize that these people have never truly been in love. If you have truly been in love, than you know it's uncontrollable. Who you love is not a conscious choice -- it just happens.

That's what I imagine it must be like with Connie and Maury.

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I am anti-PETA and many other animal rights organizations. It's not that I hate animals, or think their rights should not be protected. The real issue I have is that PETA and organizations like them go too far, which makes a mockery of the real issue.

Take, for instance, the animal rights organization that is going nuts because of two cats being featured in a play. One has a gun pointed at it, and the other is covered in catsup [coincidence?] at some point in the play.

I can understand being upset if a cat was actually being shot during the show. And I can understand being outraged if the catsup was left on the cat permenantly. But that's not the case. The cats are loved and treated well.

The argument of the organization is "[a]n animal has no choice whether to play a part in the drama or not. A cat belongs at home near the fireplace not on stage as an attraction for an audience of 300 people."

Uh. OK. So this is somehow more important than going out and rounding up the idiots who leave their dogs out all the time, no matter what the weather? Having a cat on stage is paramount to beating an animal violently?

I have a hard time with animal rights, in general. On one hand, I love animals and the thought of them being hurt in any way rips my heart out. And yet I can understand why animal testing and experimentation is so important. I'm not talking about smearing eyeshadow in a rabbit's eyes to see if it blinds them -- I'm talking about cancer research, and research on important diseases and health issues. I see both sides.

Did you know that PETA has a crusade going against Jack Hanna, the animal guy? What kind of fucked up shit is that? To my knowledge, Jack Hanna is trying to educate people about animals and endangered species. There's no sinister plan to hurt animals.

I rate PETA [nd organizations like PETA] right up there with the Deeply Religious. Both are bad for all involved and help no one.

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I am quite frightened by the Deeply Religious. In fact, they give me the wiggens.

Normal religious folk don't scare me. You know, they believe in whatever god[dess]/higher power and they go to church [or not] and they're happy with their lives and comfortable with their faith.

I have a theory that the Deeply Religious are miserable. They cling to religion like a life jacket, and think they're going to make points with whatever god they believe in by spreading the Word. And, you know, with extra points comes happiness. But the Deeply Religious never get happy, so they continue to do crazy ass shit in the name of their god.

The thing that pisses me off the most about the Deeply Religious is their capacity for hate. In most cases the Deeply Religious consider themselves to be better than another group of people. They think they're living their lives better, or they think the group of people beneath them are living sinfully.

I was reading some woman's journal a few weeks ago, and she was talking about reading journals. Particularly two journals -- one belonged to a lesbian and the other belonged to man practicing Wicca. She went on and on about how guilty she felt for reading them after she discovered their terrible secret [even though both journals were well-written and interesting] because "God hates that sort of thing."

Ahem.

After 15 minutes of trying to control myself, I left a note in her comments section saying that, despite the fact that my officially sanctioned Christian religious training only extended to the age of 12, I was under the impression that god didn't hate anyone. In fact, I seem to remember something about god being love. I don't know why I bothered, because the Deeply Religious can always rationalize their beliefs and find support for their fucked up ideas by twisting the teachings of the Bible, Koran, etc.

Those fucktards [™ BeerMary] over at godhatesfags.com [although I hear the site no longer exists] are a prime example of the Deeply Religious spreading hate. Fred Phelps doesn't spread the word of god, he spreads his own fucked up propaganda to people too scared not to believe it.

Aside from all the absolutely bizarre rhetoric about god hating homosexuality, there is also the crazy notion that it's OK to kill in the name of your god. In fact, killing someone who does something that god hates [do we see a theme?] will earn you those extra points I talked about earlier.

I have no problem with people who are pro life. But don't try to force your views down my throat. I'm radically pro choice even though I doubt I would choose to have an abortion. Many of the Deeply Religious think it's perfectly acceptable [and expected of them] to defend the right to life at any price.

Let's not forget organizations like the Klan, who think their god has decreed that the only good person is a white Christian person. Again, with the spreading of hate. My personal favorite are the Deeply Religious who consider women to be the root of all evil in the world. Many of the Deeply Religious think it's OK to maim, kill, and rape women and girls in the name of their god.

The Deeply Religious are, in part, why I am not a religious person. They give all religions a bad name. I don't need to be saved, or born again, or converted, or anything like that -- I'm perfectly happy with my lack of religious faith.

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If I hear one more person say that something is "off the hook" I may have to commit hari kari. I have seen that stupid commercial for Fastlane about twelve billion times, and I have not yet been brainwashed schnookered into wanting to watch it. I don't care about your party!

The last straw for me was last night. I was watching the afternoon news. One of the super uptight news anchors was plugging an American Idol watching last night at a club on Delaware Avenue and then he said it: "The party is going to be off the hook!" Yes, he said it in his uptight guy voice, too. I felt like reaching through the television, grabbing him by his newsanchor tie, and bitch slapping him a few times.

I have been considering having my own American Idol party for the last showdown. I could serve lots of cheese. We could all perform a Paula Abdul tribute group sing. Shouts of "Kelly, Kelly, Kelly" would ring from the rafters.

At 9pm last night I excitedly sat down in front of the television. Obviously many people think Nikki is talented. I think she's pretty, but talented? Not so much. My jaw dropped when she compared her voice to Stevie Nicks. Whaaaaaaaaaaat? Uh no. She needs to pack up her Pop Stars reject self and her trailer trash family and go back to Texas so she can continue her career in karaoke.

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Navigating the escalator at the Spring Garden El stop is always a gamble. A few years ago some kid got his foot caught in an escalator at some stop in North Philly and the foot was literally torn off his body, so SEPTA took down all the escalators for repair. The escalator at Spring Garden was recently re-installed.

I'm about to reveal something to you that makes me absolutely wild with rage. I hate it when people don't walk up the escalator.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "But Nicole, walking up an escalator is silly. Aren't escalators meant just to be stood on?" Here's a secret -- the answer is no. They're meant to get you to your final destination quicker. And since most escalators don't get you anywhere faster than if you had walked up a flight of stairs, it's obvious that we should all get our out of shape asses walking up the escalator.

I'm willing to forgive this little lapse in judgement at places like malls. But when there's a train pulling in at the top of the escalator and some ass is just standing there like a moron, it's all I can do not to pummel the person.

Yes, I could take the stairs. I wrestle every day with that decision. There's about a 50-50 shot at getting stuck behind one of the immobile masses. I usually try to guage the people ahead of me. If they're old, I usually take the stairs. If they're absolutely idiotic looking, I will take the stairs. Sometimes I get lucky and everyone walks up the fucking escalator like they should.

Today was not one of those days. Some smacked ass in sneakers and black socks decided he was going to hold up 50 people behind him on the escalator just to be a bastard. And, of course, just as I finally make it off the escalator a train pulls out of the station. I had to do relaxation exercises mentally so I didn't push the fucker onto the tracks.

As you can tell, I'm bitter today.

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I have a real problem with public spitting.

The other day I was walking down the street dodging masses of spit and loogies on the sidewalk. I looked around, wondering what completely farmhick was littering the walk -- that's when I noticed it: businessmen and street people alike all think it's OK to spit in public.

We all know that I am not miss prim and proper manners. But I would like it if I could walk down the street without having to listen to someone hawk up the snot to spit a loogie in the middle of the street.

I guess that people figure it's just spit -- it's natural, it's biodegradable. But aside from just being generally annoying, it's really unattractive.

Last night on the subway after class I was looking across the tracks to the Westbound side. Some really hot guy was waiting for the train, and [I'll admit it] I was checking him out. And then he spits onto the platform. I had to fight the urge to run screaming the other way.

So why do boys feel the need to spit? Do you have an overabundance of saliva and there's just too much in your mouth? Did you eat something nasty? What? I don't get it. Someone explain it to me, OK?

What I find worse is women who spit. Most women I know do not spit in public -- they have way too much regard for what they look like in public. Mostly the women who do spit in public are the standard farmhick and the typical ghetto fabulous superstar -- chicks who think they're tough, mostly.

Maybe that's it: public spitting is a form of asserting your manliness, your toughness, your street credibility.

Or maybe it's just rude and I'm obsessive.