Flying Spaghetti Monster
And a moral debate: When someone sends a humorous e-mail that so aptly yet unintentionally describes the sender, is it funny, ironic, or sad?
This will all be on the exam.
Flying Spaghetti Monster
I've got one more day until my vacation. And I forgot to take my meds this morning.
The family of pioneering astronaut Gus Grissom has been trying to get NASA to give them his 1961 Mercury spacesuit. NASA says the suit is government property and an artifact that should be kept at the Astronaut Hall of Fame in Florida.
I've got some airport and flight time to fill this week, plus four days OFF WORK (and a weekend), so I might actually read some of the stuff that's on my pile this week.
If a bunch of extreme neo-conservative zealots move to South Carolina and secede from the United States, will anyone actually care?
I’ll just come out and admit the following:
I was smart. Really. I had actually activity going on in the grey matter between my ears.
I'm it! Thanks, Bearette24!
MBNA is taking over the world.
We're just trapped in it.
Could the Bushies be any tackier?
So Bush can take time out from his vacation to go to Utah and Idaho to speak to people who support the war, but he can't go ONE MILE from his ranch to speak to those who question it?
These are some things I learned from Harper's (Sept. 2005):
My posts this week will most likely be fewer, shorter, and less frequent (yeah, I heard that sigh of relief). I'm getting ready for a trip back East next week, and I need to get some work done before I go if I want to come back to a job.
This is another one of those weekends where it would be easier to list what I’m not doing than what I am. Not because I have so much to do, but because I have so little and no idea how to fill the 57 hours.
Cindy Sheehan left her vigil outside of G.W. Bush's ranch in Crawford, Texas, to attend to her mother who had a stroke.
Remember my girl-crush on Jennifer Weiner? Still going strong.
Rowen's cough has almost gone away, but I'm not sure if that's a good thing. She's not hacking away anymore, but she's also not bringing up any phlegm. Although I'm happy not to be cleaning mucus off my carpet, I'm worried that if she doesn't cough it up, she'll get more sick. I'm going to take her off the cough medicine this afternoon and see what happens.
The saga continues.
They are going on my list of bad people. Along with car dealers, health club salesmen, and the person at AOL who kept me on the phone forever trying to convince me to stay with them even though I had explained that I was moving to a small African nation.
In a memo dated February 7, 2003, three senior department officials -- noting the U.S. Central Command's focus on military objectives and reluctance to take on policing roles -- warned that "a failure to address short-term public security and humanitarian assistance concerns could result in serious human rights abuses which would undermine an otherwise successful military campaign, and our reputation internationally."
J. Michael Fay has something to say. And we all need to listen.
Okay. I give up. The manifesto just isn’t going to get written. With more peace events and sick puppies* and just trying to have a sort-of life, I’m feeling a little spun this week. I’m a total creature of habit, so even the tiniest change to my routine puts everything off-kilter.
But I do. And it's my blog.
So still no report from Crawford. I went to Old Navy instead because I desperately needed some pants that don't cut off the circulation to my bottom half. And I needed to restock on the perfect white t-shirt. It's the perfect fit, the perfect weight. And I've gone through half a dozen of them this summer thanks to Rowen's muddy paws and my inability to drink an ice tea without spilling it. Really. I think I need to get myself some of those sippy cups for toddlers.
Someone found out my secret.
Chalk one up for the good guys.
So I'm an East Coast girl. And back East, unless you have big bucks for some fancy schmancy luxury condo, you won't have central a/c or heating in your apartment. You'll have a small window unit for the summer and a radiator for the winter. My parents' house has central a/c and heating, but it was their job as the adults to make sure that the house stayed standing and functioning, and I didn't give much thought to any of it beyond turning off lights when I left the room and not leaving windows and doors open because "We're not cooling the whole neighborhood."
I know you are all eagerly waiting---salivating, even---for my report from Crawford. Well, I don't have it written yet. I started writing it, but it turned into a longer reflection on the progressive movement, which I will post so you can ignore it.
It's been way too long since we've had any updates on Tom and Katie. But finally, through the investigative prowess of Star (why have they not won a Pulitzer?) Magazine, we have some news. Sort of.
I'll post my report from Crawford later today. For now, here's what has been added to the pile for this week.
Anyone want to guess what I’m doing on Saturday? As for the rest of the weekend, here it is.
For those just tuning in: Cindy Sheehan, the mother of a serviceman killed in Iraq, has traveled from California to Crawford, Texas, to ask that President Bush speak with her about the reasons for the ongoing war. Bush has refused to see her, so Cindy has set up camp on the country road to his "ranch" where he is on vacation.
Any suggestions for what I should write on a sign to take to the rally in Crawford?
This is why I'm going to Crawford on Saturday.
Someone is doing some really useful research.
I'm becoming increasingly cynical about the people's ability to change anything in the United States. But I'm not quite ready to give up.
And again I say, Amen!
Only two weeks left to buy my birthday present. In case you've forgotten what I want:
Again. And with any luck, Rowen is rolling around in the rain and the mud as I type.* I have the one and only dog who likes thunderstorms. Because rain is just water coming from a different direction. And the lightning is so pretty.
My bad back is her good luck: she went to doggy day care today to work out some of that puppy energy. I love my dog, but sometimes I just need her to not love me so much.
* The day care has, on occassion, had to hose Rowen off to figure out which dog she was.
I've added a few readers (and chased away quite a few, too!), so I thought I should reiterate my disclaimer for the weekly On the Pile listing: These are the books that have made it from the general stacks and into the pile next to my bed. Being on this list does not guarantee that the book will be read. Or opened, for that matter. Many of the books will be sampled, put down, picked up again, and so forth over the course of years.
Guess who finally got a wireless card for her laptop?
A little something to get the girls---and maybe the guys (who am I to judge?)---through a Friday afternoon.
It’s raining. It’s pouring. Which means I’m going to be snorin’. As if I weren’t enough of a shut-in*, today’s gloomy skies and rain are a good excuse to curl up in bed with stacks of reading material and some DVDs. And starting at approximately 3:23 p.m., that’s exactly where I’ll be. Or I’ll be standing outside in the rain trying to convince Rowen that standing outside during lightening storms and saying hello to skunks are both very bad ideas. Maybe I’ll just give her another one of my shoes to eat.
Can I be this woman?*
I'm not the only one in a love/hate relationship with VF.
I should so be an advice columnist. 'Cause I'm really good at solving other people's problems even if I can't do squat about my own. (Scroll to the third comment)
I'm going to live in a yurt. Because Austin Electric is truly evil.
Books! Books! Books!