I’m feeling better today. Happier. Ready to go out and conquer the world. Or at the very least, to work out when I get home and do some spring cleaning this weekend. I have too many drawers full of too much junk that I am actually looking forward to cleaning out. The purging of useless stuff. Here’s hoping my energy stays up this weekend. Do they have Viagra for energy?

I am, however, kind of concerned about my cat. He’s been really sneezy for a couple of days now. I even wiped his nose last night (which he was not too keen on, let me tell you). Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a cat to blow his nose? So he’s been sneezing all over the place for a couple of days. I’m guessing it’s just a cold or something ‘cuz he’s still eating and he’s still playing and stuff. But I worry about him, you know? The way a parent doesn’t like to see his or her child sick, no matter how mundane the illness. I’m hoping he’ll get better on his own, but if this goes on for another couple of days, I’ll take him in to see the doctor. Maybe I should just call and make an appointment for him – that has seemed to cure him in the past…

I watched part of the interview with Saddam Hussein last night. I fell asleep before it was over, more because I was exhausted than because it was boring, though. I found what I saw of the interview to be very interesting. For several reasons.

President Hussein is a very smart man. He knows exactly what to say to whom to create for himself the image that he wants to create. He can dodge any question he wants to and focus on any topic he wants to. At one point, he stopped his interpreter to correct him. President Hussein had said, “Mr. Bush” instead of “Bush,” and he wanted it made clear that he respects Mr. Bush enough to use the word “Mr.” in front of his name. This was shortly after he had not answered Dan Rather three times when he was asked three times, point blank, if he planned on destroying the missiles the UN has said he has to destroy. It really was interesting to watch him perform for the cameras. I’m not saying I’m any less frightened by him than I was before, but I do have an odd sense of respect for him. I wish our President was that smart.

One thing that I found amusing was this: when Dan Rather and his producer were picked up to be taken to meet President Hussein, they were put in a car with curtained windows and driven around for about 45 minutes. They were then put in another car with curtained windows and driven around. And then a third car with curtained windows and driven around for another half an hour or so. And after two and a half hours of being driven around, unable to look out the window and see where they were going, they arrived at a very recognizable Palace to meet President Hussein. Dan Rather knew exactly where he was as soon as he stepped out of the third car. So if that much effort is going to be put into trying to confuse Dan Rather and his producer so they don’t know where they are and they don’t know where they’re going, presumably for security reasons, wouldn’t it make more sense to conduct the interview in some unrecognizable location? Somewhere Dan Rather had not been a few weeks before? I just thought that was kind of funny.

And my other question is this: why did the Bush administration immediately reject the idea of having a televised debate between Bush and Hussein? They would do the debate via satellite, so the two men would not have to be in the same room. They would have interpreters on both ends to make sure the translations were accurate. The questions and whatnot would not be scripted. It would be a dialogue between Bush and Hussein. Isn’t another term for something like this a “peace summit?” Where both parties get to speak their piece in the hopes of coming to some sort of settlement without having to go to war? Maybe “peace summit” isn’t the term I’m looking for, but at the very least, it would be a meeting. What’s wrong with meeting with the man you want to blow off the face of the earth before you overturn a thirty-year old resolution that says you can’t just have him assassinated? What is so terrible about this suggestion that the Bush administration didn’t even think about it before rejecting it? Are they afraid of how stupid Bush will end up looking? Okay, I could see that. But I would still like to see the two men talk to one another. It would, at the very least, make me feel like our President has an ounce of humanity in him as opposed to being the oil-grubbing (if a person who wants money is money-grubbing, a person who wants oil is oil-grubbing, right?) tyrant he is seeming to be more and more every day.

I’m going to jail for this entry.

I am not on Hussein’s side. His manipulation of the interview last night and his avoidance of the important questions demonstrate that he is just as scary as we thought he was. It would make me happy if he was not in power anymore. But it would make me even happier if removing him from power did not mean that thousands of people (military and civilian alike) would have to lose their lives. And I can’t honestly say that I’m on Bush’s side, either. His disregard for the opinions of not only his allied countries, but also of the people he is supposed to be representing is frightening to me. I no longer feel like I am living in a republic. I’m on the nebulous other side, albeit a naïve one, still hoping that all of this crap can get sorted out without bloodshed.

Hey, reality. How you doing? I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s good to be back, though. I enjoyed my little sojourn into the green world, but it’s nice to have the feeling once again that yes, my head is attached to the rest of my body. Even though there is still too much phlegm in my head, it’s nice to know that it’s really there.

I am no longer in denial. I am no longer angry. I have hit sadness and acceptance with full force.

I got an inordinate amount of sleep last night. But it wasn’t necessarily good sleep. I only remember a piece of a dream that I had right before I got up this morning wherein I was trying to convince someone to take a private lesson with my instructor friends from Switzerland before they’re gone and then I woke up and thought, “But they’re already gone.” And the sadness and acceptance settled in for a long winter’s nap.

It’s not a bad thing. It’s like the day it really hit me that Moby is completely inaccessible to me. It’s okay for me to think about him and enjoy his music and whatnot, I just have to know that he isn’t really a part of my life. Which is fine. I’m still a strong, intelligent, funny, talented, creative person without him in my life. The same way that I can dance and juggle and make music without my friends here. And I start rehearsals for my new show this weekend, so there’s another creative outlet for me, too. And yesterday, I pulled up and looked at a screenplay I was working on a while ago, too. It’s not half bad. It’s not half done, but it’s not half bad, either.

So I’m back to my real life again and for the moment, I’m okay with that. I’m sure I’ll get restless again soon, but that’s why I keep this journal in the first place – to prove just how temporary life can be.

For the past few days, I have been feeling like a pig shat in my head. In my throat, if you want to get really specific about it.

I no longer feel like a pig shat in my head. I feel like he has taken up residence inside my skull in between my eyebrows and is fighting with my brain for leg room. All the while, letting his excrement dribble down the back of my throat.

It’s not a really pleasant feeling. One of my co-workers told me I should take a day or two to just sleep, but I feel bad doing that because we already have two other women out on vacation this week and because I already used a couple of sick days to deal with this. But I’m thinking I should be anti-social and lazy for a couple of evenings and then maybe I’ll be okay. Because I don’t know if you’ve ever had a pig take up residence in your skull, but it really isn’t very nice. If he could do some cleaning up and fixing of some synapses while he’s in there, it would be really nice, but somehow I doubt he will. I’ll probably have to take care of that myself. Stupid pig.

We all know I hate the fact that I have political views and am becoming politically aware. But if there was ever a time to do so, now would be it. So I am apologizing in advance for this entry, but I believe that this is an important speech for people to be aware of. I am proud of Senator Byrd for speaking up and I hope that people will listen and remember some of the points he makes in this speech when they go to the voting booths next year.

A wake-up call to the Senate

By Robert C. Byrd
Originally published February 25, 2003

TO CONTEMPLATE war is to think about the most horrible of human experiences. On this February day, as this nation stands at the brink of battle, every American on some level must be contemplating the horrors of war.

Yet, this chamber is, for the most part, silent - ominously, dreadfully silent. There is no debate, no discussion, no attempt to lay out for the nation the pros and cons of this particular war. There is nothing.

We stand passively mute in the United States Senate, paralyzed by our own uncertainty, seemingly stunned by the sheer turmoil of events. Only on the editorial pages of our newspapers is there much substantive discussion of the prudence or imprudence of engaging in this particular war.

And this is no small conflagration we contemplate. This is no simple attempt to defang a villain. No. This coming battle, if it materializes, represents a turning point in U.S. foreign policy and possibly a turning point in the recent history of the world.

This nation is about to embark upon the first test of a revolutionary doctrine applied in an extraordinary way at an unfortunate time.

The doctrine of pre-emption - the idea that the United States or any other nation can legitimately attack a nation that is not imminently threatening but may be threatening in the future - is a radical new twist on the traditional idea of self defense.

It appears to be in contravention of international law and the U.N. Charter. And it is being tested at a time of worldwide terrorism, making many countries around the globe wonder if they will soon be on our, or some other nation's, hit list.

High-level administration figures recently refused to take nuclear weapons off of the table when discussing a possible attack against Iraq. What could be more destabilizing and unwise than this type of uncertainty, particularly in a world where globalism has tied the vital economic and security interests of many nations so closely together?

There are huge cracks emerging in our time-honored alliances, and U.S. intentions are suddenly subject to damaging worldwide speculation. Anti-Americanism based on mistrust, misinformation, suspicion and alarming rhetoric from U.S. leaders is fracturing the once-solid alliance against global terrorism which existed after Sept. 11.

Here at home, people are warned of imminent terrorist attacks with little guidance as to when or where such attacks might occur. Family members are being called to active military duty with no idea of the duration of their stay or what horrors they may face. Communities are being left with less than adequate police and fire protection. Other essential services are also short-staffed. The mood of the nation is grim. The economy is stumbling. Fuel prices are rising and may soon spike higher.

This administration, now in power for a little over two years, must be judged on its record. I believe that that record is dismal.

In that scant two years, this administration has squandered a large projected surplus of some $5.6 trillion over the next decade and taken us to projected deficits as far as the eye can see.

This administration's domestic policy has put many of our states in dire financial condition, under-funding scores of essential programs for our people. This administration has fostered policies which have slowed economic growth. This administration has ignored urgent matters such as the crisis in health care for our elderly. This administration has been slow to provide adequate funding for homeland security. This administration has been reluctant to better protect our long and porous borders.

In foreign policy, this administration has failed to find Osama bin Laden. In fact, just yesterday we heard from him again marshaling his forces and urging them to kill.

This administration has split traditional alliances, possibly crippling, for all time, international order-keeping entities like the United Nations and NATO. This administration has called into question the traditional worldwide perception of the United States as well-intentioned peacekeeper. This administration has turned the patient art of diplomacy into threats, labeling and name-calling of the sort that reflects quite poorly on the intelligence and sensitivity of our leaders, and which will have consequences for years to
come.

Calling heads of state pygmies, labeling whole countries as evil, denigrating powerful European allies as irrelevant - these types of crude insensitivities can do our great nation no good.

We may have massive military might, but we cannot fight a global war on terrorism alone. We need the cooperation and friendship of our time-honored allies as well as the newer-found friends whom we can attract with our wealth. Our awesome military machine will do us little good if we suffer another devastating attack on our homeland that severely damages our economy. Our military manpower is already stretched thin, and we will need the augmenting support of those nations who can supply troop strength, not just sign letters cheering us on.

The war in Afghanistan has cost us $37 billion so far, yet there is evidence that terrorism may already be starting to regain its hold in that region. We have not found bin Laden, and unless we secure the peace in Afghanistan, the dark dens of terrorism may yet again flourish in that remote and devastated land.

Pakistan as well is at risk of destabilizing forces. This administration has not finished the first war against terrorism and yet it is eager to embark on another conflict with perils much greater than those in Afghanistan. Is our attention span that short? Have we not learned that after winning the war one must always secure the peace? And yet we hear little about the aftermath of war in Iraq. In the absence of plans, speculation abroad is rife. Will we seize Iraq's oil fields, becoming an occupying power that controls the price and supply of that nation's oil for the foreseeable future? To whom do we propose to hand the reins of power after Saddam Hussein?

Will our war inflame the Muslim world, resulting in devastating attacks on Israel? Will Israel retaliate with its own nuclear arsenal? Will the Jordanian and Saudi Arabian governments be toppled by radicals, bolstered by Iran, which has much closer ties to terrorism than Iraq?

Could a disruption of the world's oil supply lead to a worldwide recession? Has our senselessly bellicose language and our callous disregard of the interests and opinions of other nations increased the global race to join the nuclear club and made proliferation an even more lucrative practice for nations which need the income?

In only the space of two short years this reckless and arrogant administration has initiated policies which may reap disastrous consequences for years.

One can understand the anger and shock of any president after the savage attacks of Sept. 11. One can appreciate the frustration of having only a shadow to chase and an amorphous, fleeting enemy on which it is nearly impossible to exact retribution.

But to turn one's frustration and anger into the kind of extremely destabilizing and dangerous foreign policy debacle that the world is currently witnessing is inexcusable from any administration charged with the awesome power and responsibility of guiding the destiny of the greatest superpower on the planet. Frankly, many of the pronouncements made by this administration are outrageous. There is no other word.

Yet this chamber is hauntingly silent. On what is possibly the eve of horrific infliction of death and destruction on the population of the nation of Iraq - a population, I might add, of which over 50 percent is under age 15 - this chamber is silent.

On what is possibly only days before we send thousands of our own citizens to face unimagined horrors of chemical and biological warfare - this chamber is silent.

On the eve of what could possibly be a vicious terrorist attack in retaliation for our attack on Iraq, it is business as usual in the United States Senate.

We are truly "sleepwalking through history." In my heart of hearts, I pray that this great nation and its good and trusting citizens are not in for a rudest of awakenings.

To engage in war is always to pick a wild card. And war must always be a last resort, not a first choice.

I truly must question the judgment of any president who can say that a massive unprovoked military attack on a nation which is over 50 percent children is "in the highest moral traditions of our country."

This war is not necessary at this time. Pressure appears to be having a good result in Iraq. Our mistake was to put ourselves in a corner so quickly. Our challenge is to now find a graceful way out of a box of our own making. Perhaps there is still a way, if we allow more time.

Robert C. Byrd is a Democratic senator from West Virginia. He delivered the above as a speech on the Senate floor Feb. 12.

Copyright c 2003, The Baltimore Sun

So I don’t like this pissy mood that I am in. There is a lot of good stuff in my life and I have this tendency to lose sight of those things when I see something that I want and can’t/don’t have. So I’m going to do another of my patented lists of things that make me happy on a pretty regular basis. You’ve probably seen most of these before, but I may even elaborate a little today ‘cuz I need a boost.

My cat. It amazes me how human he can be. I forget that he’s a cat sometimes. But he greets me at the door every day when I come home and just lets me hold him for a while. He misses me when I’m gone. And he fights with me to try to get me to stay. Which is really sweet. And there are few things in this world nicer than falling asleep with a cat.

My apartment. It is exactly me-sized. I love it. It is very unobtrusive, but it is warm and has good energy. It is cute and it contains things that I enjoy and that make me happy. Like my cat. And…

My other two roommates. I have these two silhouettes that were props from Leftover Voices standing in my living room – Nigel and Charlene. I like them partially because they are cool and partially because I know they are exactly the kind of things that would have creeped me out about five years ago, but they don’t creep me out. I like them. They are comforting somehow. So not only are they indicative of the most amazing film I have worked on thus far, they are indicative of a fear I have conquered. Or at the very least, dealt with.

My hair. It is a really pretty shade of red and it’s really soft.

My body. For the first time in my life, I am learning to really love my own body. The things that it can do amaze me. I can watch someone do something and then imitate it. I can run. I can jump. I can dance. I can thread a needle. I can feel sunshine. I can send shivers up and down the spine of a man with a shaved head simply by touching his scalp. I can hear music and let it influence my movement. I can move the way I want to most of the time. I can learn. And while I am doing all of this and abusing my body by pushing it and pushing it and pushing it, it still can, will, and does heal itself from any ailments that happen to befall it. Yes, I’m stuffy today, but I no longer have the sore throat I had just a couple of days ago. That’s pretty remarkable, I think.

My brain and my heart. I can think and feel and reason and debate and argue and understand and support and love and listen and create.

Soup. Soup is good food. As are smoothies. So make that soup and smoothies.

WXRT. The radio station in Chicago that plays stuff the other stations won’t play. The closest I can get to exposing myself to new and interesting music sometimes. And they play some stuff I already know and love, too.

Gilmore Girls. You get more dialogue for your dollar than with any other show on television. And the relationship between Rory and Lorelai reminds me of the relationship I share with…

My mom. She is supportive and loving and intelligent and funny and talented and a very dear friend to me.

Chicago. I love looking at the skyline as I drive in to work in the morning. It feels like home to me. It is inviting and exciting but not too scary.

So, you see, I am really rich. Because I could keep this list going for days. So I shouldn’t worry about money I don’t have or being forgotten by friends I don’t see everyday or a boyfriend I don’t have or a career that is just getting started. These things will fall into place when the time is right. The universe has always looked out for me and I have no reason to believe it will not continue to do just that. Thank you, Universe. It’s really pretty outside today, by the way. Good job.

I want very badly to be an interesting and creative person and I am feeling like I am not very much of either one of those things right now. Maybe it is because there is enough phlegm in my throat to drown an army right now so when I tried to play my guitar and sing last night, I sounded like a strangled cat. Or maybe it is because I am back to my regular life sitting behind a desk all day. Or maybe it is because I went out dancing last night, all set to try out my new moves, and the woman who let me practice on her wasn’t very receptive to the moves. I don’t know if it was me or her because I tried a move or two on a woman who I know is an amazing follow and she said I was trying too hard when I was using the same amount of effort as with the other woman. So now, not only do I need to find a guy who will practice with me so I can develop a style, I need to find a woman to practice with me who is a good follow. A follow who knows how to follow and doesn’t feel it necessary to move unless I signal her to.

Yes, I know, in normal social dancing, it is a conversation that happens on the floor, not just one person leading and one person following. But I would like, for practice purposes, to practice with a woman who knows how to just follow so that I can get my leads clear enough so that when we are conversing on the social dance floor, she knows when I’m talking. I also need to learn how to pay really good attention when she is talking, too. But I want to practice talking as a lead with a woman who knows how to listen. It’s harder than one would think. Most women don’t want to give up that kind of control, particularly when movement of their own body is involved. But you’d be amazed how good dancing feels when your lead can make you do anything he wants you to do. You develop this trust with him because he knows that if he pushes you too far, the connection will be lost and he will no longer have control. And at the same time, you become so in tune with your own body and how one part connects to every other part that it is really fun to see what a bit of pressure on your palm will do to your feet, you know? I know, I sound like a crackpot. I’m still not fully in this reality. I’m dreaming about a trip I know I can’t take, both for financial reasons and because of the show I was just cast in. I was just cast in a show that should be a lot of fun. I’ll tell you more about it later.

And one of my old co-workers called this morning – a woman who retired almost a year ago, now. And we chatted for a minute before I transferred her call to its intended destination and she asked about my love life. When I told her I don’t have one, she said, “We need to find you a man.” Why? Why must they find me a man? Why do I need to have a man in my life? I’m not in a hurry for one. I have wonderful friends and a full life. And to be honest, what I want more than a romantic relationship is a solid friendship with someone who challenges me mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally. I don’t need the baggage and bullshit that so often accompanies a romantic relationship. I need a person in my life who makes me think and pushes my boundaries and for whom I can do the same. I don’t need some random man so I can get my rocks off, yo. (Is that even a phrase? I don’t know these things. I’m so not street.)

I want to be creative. I want to be interesting. I want a follow to practice with. I want a lead to practice with who dances like my instructor friend from Switzerland. I want to…not be here. In my office. Staring out the window at the beautiful winter sunshine. I want my life to get going, you know? I know it will get there, but I’m antsy today. There is so much going on in the world and while a lot of it will still be there later, there is a lot that I miss every day by coming in to work. I miss wind gusts and temperature shifts. I miss smiles from strangers. I miss watching squirrels play and buildings go up. I miss flowers blooming. I’m restless today. And I’m tired of all of this phlegm in my throat. I apologize for writing such an obnoxious blog. I wanted to be sunshiny and cheery today, but I think I’m coming out of denial and entering anger. Gimmie a couple of days, and I’ll get back to acceptance and I’ll be okay with going home to my cat and watching TV so I can save money to go to Arizona this summer. But it is important for me to write this stuff down so that I know the next time I feel like this that it is normal and it does change.

Oh! And I think I have a new reader now. I'm not sure how diligent this new reader will be, but I wanted to say hello and welcome anyway.

Hello! And welcome! Have a look around. I wrote some funnier entries a long time ago, so go ahead and dig through the archives. Enjoy!

And poof! Just like that, I return from the green world to my regular life. I feel like this past week didn’t even really happen. Further proof that I have surrounded myself with the warm blanket of denial.

I did yoga for the first time this past weekend. I liked the way that it made me feel in a lot of ways, but it was also a kind of scary experience for me. It is supposed to make you feel energized and relaxed and alive, right? It made me almost unspeakably sad. I have known for years that I use humor as a defense mechanism, but I didn’t know that I use stress and tension, too. So to do yoga and reach that fully relaxed state, all of the things that I was working so hard at avoiding all week came flooding over me and it was all I could do to not cry. It is not cool to cry after your first yoga class when there are a bunch of people in the room you have never met before. Then you are remembered for years afterwards as “that girl who cried in the yoga class.” Which is not how I want to be remembered.

And yes, it probably was the circumstances of this past week that made me so sad this time through. Who knows? If I go again, it could be amazing. I used muscles I didn’t know I had. And I know I used them because they are still yelling at me for waking them up in the first place. So in that respect, it felt good. I just don’t know that I can handle the emotional cleansing on a regular basis. Though it probably would be good for me. If I was in denial all week about something as silly as loving and being worthy of my own friends, what else am I in a permanent state of denial about?

On the up side, I did have two wonderful dance lessons yesterday. I’m excited to get out on the social dance floor and try some of my new tricks. And please bear with me if I do them badly. I’m just learning right now, but I will get better. I promise.

"Some birds aren't meant to be caged. And while the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up in the first place does rejoice, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend."

There are six billion people on this planet, right? So even if he is one in a million, there are six thousand other people out there just like him. And I have the rest of my life to find the other five thousand, nine hundred and ninety eight of them. And if past experience is any indication, when I find them, they'll find me, too.

Another of life’s little oddities:

Dorothy Parker once said, “Men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses.” Or she may have said it many times. I don’t know. I wasn’t there. The important part, though, is that it was said. By her. And I know about that phrase. And I’m sure many of you do, too, ‘cuz it’s not all that uncommon. But anyway, I have found that for the most part, this is true. When I wear my glasses, I am hit on significantly less than when I wear my contact lenses.

And now is the point in the blog where we pause for a sidenote. I hate wearing glasses. After wearing contacts, glasses can be hard to adjust to. You only have these little pieces of the world in front of you that are clear, as opposed to having your entire range of vision appear clear as it does when you wear contact lenses.

I just heard a bird chirping outside. Sorry. Haven’t heard that in a while, so I had to share.

But getting back to the whole glasses thing, I really don’t like wearing them. I feel frumpy and short and dorky and very unattractive when I wear my glasses. And the nose pads leave marks on my face. And when you try to dance while wearing glasses, you can forget about the forehead connection point. Not to mention the fact that they will fog up if you sweat too much or they will slide down your nose if you sweat too much. So I am not a fan of wearing glasses.

That being said, I wore my glasses out last night. I think I may be getting sick and one of the first places (besides my throat which is kind of raw for the second day in a row, now) that I start to feel sick is in my eyes. They get dry and irritated pretty much no matter what my ailment is. So my contacts were bugging me last night but I wanted to go out and dance with my friends from Switzerland (who, by the way, I am slowly resigning myself to the fact that I am in love with the both of them and will be heartbroken when they leave on Monday) so I wore my glasses. And just about everyone that I saw out told me that I look really good in glasses. I believe the word “sexy” was even used to describe me at several points throughout the evening.

I think I may also have to just resign myself to the fact that I don’t understand people or the way the world works. I’m just here to enjoy the ride.

I heard one little snippet on the radio this morning, a sound byte really, of President Bush reacting to all of the anti-war protests that have been going on over the last few days. I don’t remember the quote exactly, but it was something to the effect of, “Deciding policy based on protests is like deciding policy based on a focus group. As the leader of this country, I have to decide policy based on the safety of the people.” I appreciate the fact that our President is looking out for our safety, but isn’t he also supposed to be listening to his people? Isn’t that what a democracy is all about? The will of the masses enacted by the elected few? Majority rule? What kind of democratic leader outright ignores the voices of those who “elected” him to pursue his own interests and agendas? I know there are probably people saying that Bush is in a better place to make some of these decisions than some of the protesters are because he has more information than the protesters do. Okay. Fine. Give them more information. Near as I can tell, we’re going on a witch hunt in Iraq, looking for weapons that may or may not be there while North Korea builds up it’s own deadly arsenal unchecked. Yes, it would make me happy to know that Saddam Hussein was no longer in power in Iraq, nor any of his cohorts. And no, I'm not advocating going to war against North Korea, either. But seriously. After all of the inspections that have been going on, to now say that Iraq is hiding their chemical weapons on three ships that have maintained radio silence for several days…why weren’t we looking on those ships to begin with? It just smacks of a sitcom situation, you know? We don’t see anything here, but we know it’s here, so maybe it’s over there, no it’s not over there, so maybe it’s in here, no it’s not in here, so maybe it’s there…

I don’t know. I don’t have all of the information. You all know I pay attention to the news as little as possible. But that quote from our own President dismissing us like that bothered me. So he didn’t care that we didn’t want him as President in the first place. Fine. Now he doesn’t care what we think of his policies and actions. That’s irksome. I asked my friends from Switzerland what Switzerland thinks of the United States and they replied that pretty much all of Europe thinks the Unites States is being stupid. Mr. President? I know I’m just a lowly citizen of the United States who doesn’t even make enough money to really even show up as a blip on the National Income Tax Scoresheet. But I do know that if you ignore and disregard the people who could make the next Presidential election go so far not in your favor that none of your relatives can install you back in the White House for another term, they will do it. Hell, most of them want to do it now. Ignoring and disregarding them will just insure that they make it out to the polls in record numbers. In my very humble, mostly uninformed opinion, it is either time for you to listen to the voices of your countrymen or give us a good, solid reason to listen to you.

Caloused fingertips on a woman are not sexy.

I’m a space cadet today, which is, I think, the result of me being in full-fledged denial. I had a wonderful weekend taking a workshop from my favorite instructors in the world (and yes, I can say that because they are from Switzerland). I love the way that they think and the way that they interact with each other and other people. If I could, I would study under them for a year, partially so I could learn how to dance the way that they do and partially so I could absorb them and enjoy their energies. I know, I sound like a total whack job, but they are a breed of friend that I don’t find very often. The last time they were here, I got to know him pretty well. This time, I have been fortunate enough to spend time with her, too, and she is wonderful. As near as I can tell, their life is what I wish mine was. In a lot of ways, anyway. And it is interesting to get to see them live it. It’s like I get to see what my life will be like when it takes off, you know?

But it’s frustrating, too, because they will again be leaving. And I won’t see them for who knows how long. And they aren’t real good with e-mail and such. So these wonderful, incredible people who I am finding myself becoming quite attached to are just temporary additions to my life. Which is why I have buried myself deep in a state of denial. I don’t want to mourn them when they go, so I’m trying not to become too attached to them when they are here. I know it is not the healthiest tactic in the book, but I also remember how empty I felt when they left last year and how swift a kick in the ass I had to give myself to not sit around and miss them. So this year, I have shut myself down. Or I’m trying to. And I’m failing miserably.

Around this time last year, I talked about my need to be recognized and respected by the people who I respect. People of like minds and like interests. These are the people who I want to see me in all my crazy glory, you know? And I’m always amazed when they do. These new friends of mine see me and respect me anyway. They came to watch me play an open mic night last night and really enjoyed my songs. They don’t necessarily feel gypped out of spending time with other people if they are spending time with me. If a group of people are hanging out and I’m not there, they wonder why. It’s bizarre and wonderful and flattering and damnit, I’m going to miss them when they leave. And I know I sound like the world’s biggest idiot right now, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about that. I am an idiot. I am an idiot who wants to be able to play an active role in the lives of her friends more often than once a year, you know?

You probably don’t. I’m not making any sense. I’m a space cadet today. I apologize. I’ll go back to work now.

I’m trying really hard to not watch the news and listen to the daily reports that are full of speculation of just how bad things could get. I don’t want to live my life in fear. If I am going to die in a nuclear attack, there’s nothing I can do about that and I would much rather still go out dancing and to concerts and so on and so forth in the meantime. I do not want to hole myself up in my apartment, hoarding duct tape and plastic sheeting and canned goods. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to live my life that way. And even if all of those precautions would help me live through a nuclear war, I’m not so sure I want to have to live through a nuclear winter, you know? So I haven’t been paying super close attention to each days newest developments. The really important stuff, I hear about from my friends or co-workers.

But today, I am scared. It is really easy to detach yourself from things happening thousands of miles away – you just choose to not pay attention. But this morning, I found out that one of the students here on campus has been storing hazardous chemicals in his dorm room. Which is pretty much right across the street from where I work. This student also had hazardous chemicals in his locker in the Pharmacy building, which is across the street from where I work in the other direction. The chemicals in his locker spilled. The Pharmacy building was evacuated. There are police cars and fire trucks all over the place and some of the streets are closed and I’m sorry, but I’m scared now. This is right in front of my face, so I can’t ignore it. This is a student on the campus where I work. I don’t know what chemicals he had or what he was doing with them or anything like that, but if it was bad enough to evacuate an entire building and surround it with police and fire trucks and re-route traffic for over two hours now, I’m guessing it wasn’t a vile of hydrochloric acid, you know?

I don’t want to go to war. I don’t want to have to face that. I don’t want to have to live in fear that today could be my last day. I have plans for this summer, you know? I’d like to be able to keep them. I want to meet my honorary sister’s baby and watch him/her grow and learn. I don’t want to live in a world where you can’t go outside and breathe fresh air. It’s stupid. We’re all being stupid, United States, Iraq, North Korea, all of us. We’re all being stupid. I realize that the leaders of some of these countries may feel the need to make up for certain shortcomings, but you know what? They all have enough money to buy a Lamborghini. Why do they have to build bigger, more destructive weapons than everybody else has? Can’t they have a normal mid-life crisis and sleep with some young, hot blonde? Because one day, we will find a leader stupid enough to call someone’s bluff. And I don’t think that it is fair to punish the whole world (plants, animals, humans, everyone but the cockroaches and a couple of germs) because our world leaders won’t back down in a pissing contest. I know that life is not always fair and I am more than happy to be cut off in traffic every now and again to prove that. I’ll even stop whining that I had a paycheck stolen out of my mailbox and cashed once for the sake of proving that life is not always fair. But I think starting World War III is beyond the scope of normal unfairness. Ending life as we know it on this planet is not acceptable unfairness. It just isn’t.

Yes, I am thinking worst case scenario. It is possible that we could have World War III and it would be over in a couple of days with the leader of a country or two being assassinated and a few thousand troops falling along the way. I would still not condone this course of action because losing a few thousand troops on either side or both sides is not a very pleasing option, either. But if our choices come to that or nuclear war, I’m gonna have to vote against nuclear war. I don’t think anyone holding those weapons realizes just how horrible that would be. Nobody wins a nuclear war.

So I apologize for this entry. I know it is senseless rambling that probably doesn’t even hold water as it is charged with (largely) uniformed emotion. But this is what is going through my head this morning as I get a mass e-mail from the Hospital Director here on campus telling me that they don’t know any more than I do, but that the hazardous chemical spill in the Pharmacy building should not interrupt regular hospital function. Thank goodness. But today I am pessimistic and scared, so please bear with me. I hope that your day is going better.

Circuit City update part 2: My co-worker has been receiving these calls, too.

One of the easiest things that an employer can do to keep his/her employees productive and happy is to let them know that they are appreciated. I’m not talking about Secretary’s Day or Administrative Assistant’s Day or any other Hallmark invented holidays wherein it becomes a mandate that you have to thank your support staff for their efforts, no matter how pathetic those efforts might be. I’m talking about the occasional thank you e-mail. Or even just saying, “You did a great job, thank you,” on occasion. An employee who feels appreciated will work umpteen times harder for you than an employee who feels slighted.

I am not bringing this up for my own benefit. As much as I hate my actual job, I stay here because of the people. They let me know that I am appreciated. They tell me on an almost daily basis what great work I do and so on and so forth. It honestly does motivate me to work harder for them. This is why it irritates me when I have nothing to do – I know I’m not going to be thanked or praised for doing nothing. Positive reinforcement is a very powerful drug. And I love it that the people in my office know the value of a good employee and aren’t shy about letting even the office peons know that they are important in the grand scheme of things.

I do know, however, a lot of other departments at this university and a lot of other companies where the higher-ups really don’t seem to realize how much work the support staff does for them. This pisses me off. The higher up one climbs on the corporate ladder, the less actual work one has to do. One becomes a decision-maker. And once a decision is made, it is up to the support staff to carry out said decision, even if it means working fourteen hour days and coming in on weekends. And how many of those higher-ups give up their vacation time to be there while the peons are plugging diligently away, trying to meet the deadlines made by the decision-makers? Some do, true. But the numbers of those that don’t is the reason for this blog.

I have one friend who is in the same time crunch scenario right now that she was at this time last year. And when she and her co-workers finish the project, will they be thanked? Will they get dog tags that say “guru” on them? Will their bosses write personalized thank you letters to the employees? These are such simple things, but they mean so much.

The project that I have been working on at work is done. Well, phase one is done, anyway. And when I look at the list of people here who have contributed to this project, I am overwhelmed. Over 150 people touched this project in one way or another. And who bore the brunt of the work? About three or four of them. And now it is time for us to recognize the 150+ people who worked on this project. Will a special thank you be said to those three or four people? I certainly hope so. Out of principle, I just might have to find a different job if they are not recognized. They don’t have the big titles, but this project was more theirs than anyone else's on this campus. I hope they take pride in that because they did really good work. And I hope their bosses know that the best way to continue to get this caliber of work out of these employees is simply to thank them.

Circuit City update: two more calls yesterday. Still no messages.

Very little feels better after a long, hard workout than a nice, cool shower. Or on a sweltering hot day, to stand in a nice, cool shower to cool off can be really nice. Cold showers are, however, not so nice on a cold, winter morning when your bed is still calling to you ‘cuz it’s nice and warm and you’re still sleepy. You wake up with the sole purpose of getting into a nice, hot shower that will energize you and get you ready to face your day. Instead, you are greeted with a stream of water that is about fifteen degrees below freezing that will not warm up no matter how long you let it run and no matter how far to the left you turn the knob. It wakes you up, sure, but not in a very pleasant manner. And then it takes that much longer for you to warm up the rest of the day. And since it is six degrees Farenheit outside when you walk out your front door, you realize that a hot shower really would have been much nicer. *sigh* C’est la vie.

So here's a little weirdness for you:

I've been getting repeated phone calls from a Circuit City location in Virginia. How do I know this? I have caller ID. And on several occasions in the recent past, I have seen a Circuit City number show up with an 804 area code which is, as we all know, in the Richmond, Virginia area. And I'm wracking my brain to think of why Circuit City in Virginia would be calling me. I haven't ordered anything from there. Ever. I think I bought a CD for my dad for Christmas from Circuit City once about three years ago, but that one was in Niles, Illinois. So you would think that if someone in Virginia was calling to follow up on an order or something, they would leave a message. Or hear on my answering machine that they didn't reach the person they were looking for and stop calling. But I have gotten several of these calls. So then I start thinking that it is an old friend of someone who used to live in my apartment because yes, even after living there for two and a half years, I still get phone calls for people who used to have my number. But again, wouldn't you think that upon hearing my name on the answering machine, they would stop calling? Or if they were desperate to reach whoever used to have my number, wouldn't they leave a message? This one guy's mom still leaves messages on my machine no matter how many times I call the home where she lives and ask them to have her stop calling. So who else in Virginia would be calling me? Who do I even know in the Richmond, Virginia area? And even more puzzling, who do I know who would call me repeatedly from a Circuit City in the Richmond, Virginia area and then hang up without leaving a message?

Yes, I realize that I am being silly worrying about this. But I want to know. When I come home to an "Out of Area" on my caller ID, I assume it was a telemarketer and I don't worry about it anymore. When I come home to multiple calls from a Circuit City location in the Richmond, Virginia area, I start to wonder. I'm weird like that. If you are the person in Virginia who is calling me, please leave a message just so I know who you are. Or if you have an idea who might be calling me from a Circuit City in Virginia, please let me know. I had a professor who moved out to Virginia a while ago, but why she would be calling me from Circuit City is beyond me. She's still teaching. Not at Circuit City.

*sigh* Don't you just love a good mystery?

I went to a boom-tss show this weekend. Got there kind of late, but a friend of mine called me and offered me a free ticket, so how could I not go, right? And it was fun. What we heard of the DJs we wanted to see was really good. The rest of the music was okay, too. But here’s the thing I don’t like about the club scene: it is automatically assumed that when you walk in the room, you are looking to hook up with a member of the opposite sex.

We have already determined that I am not an incredibly sexual person. I can and have gone a long time without. And even in my general interactions with people, I am fairly non-threatening, at least in a sexual manner. It is not the number one priority in my life. I’m sorry if that disappoints you, but it isn’t. If I meet someone who really blows me away, then yes, sexual thoughts may enter my head. But when I hear that a DJ I like is spinning at a club, I go to see the DJ spin and enjoy the music. I am not there to mack on anyone, nor am I there to be macked on by anyone. Doesn’t mean I don’t look around the room and see if there are any cute boys there, but that is not my primary focus for the night.

So I go to this boom-tss show on Saturday night. The music was pumping, the crowd had good energy, I felt like dancing. My friend who I went with didn’t really feel like dancing, so I told him I’d be down on the dance floor for a while and I’d come back in a bit. He was fine with that. So I went off to dance. I placed myself on the floor amongst drunken men who were already attached to a woman in one form or another figuring that none of them would then start hitting on me. Sometimes, being close to your enemy is the safest place to be, you know? So I specifically place myself in a spot where I think my chances of being groped are at a minimum. And I start dancing. Somewhat unabashedly. A little more reserved than I have been at some parties, but still. I was having fun. I was shakin’ and groovin’. And for the most part, I was right. None of the guys in my general vicinity came anywhere near me. For a while, anyway. Then this one guy comes up behind me and puts his hands on my stomach. He had very thick, strong hands. So I try to pry them off of me, which he interprets as me “getting into it,” so he starts licking the back of my neck. Now, under normal circumstances, having the back of one’s neck licked can be a very nice thing. In this particular scenario, however, any of the non-groping men dancing around me could have very easily seen the look of confused amusement on my face had they looked at me right then. So I turn around to try to see who this guy is who has decided that I need to be groped. He interprets this as a move on my part to get closer to him and he pulls me in for a hug that I could tell was one of those, “I’m drunk and alone and just need someone to love me” hugs. So I kept my arms folded in front of my chest. He tried to move them so I was embracing him, too. Now, we all know I’m not averse to hugging. I love hugging people. I hug people all the time. But strange men in nightclubs who start licking my neck for no real reason are not on my priority list of people to hug. So I used that moment to push away from him. I turned around and walked off the dance floor. He grabbed my arm and tried to get me to come back, but I kept walking. Didn’t even turn around. I collected my friend and we left.

I can guess how this sounds to at least some of you. I was not afraid at any time, nor did I think I was in any sort of physical danger. It wasn’t anything I didn’t think I could handle and I was right – I could handle it. More than anything, though, I find it annoying that I can’t go to a club and enjoy the music without something like this happening. It kind of taints the evening for me. And he wasn’t the only one. I was leaning against a railing at one point during the night and as this guy walked past, he grabbed my ass. It wasn’t an accidental brush; he grabbed my ass and kept walking. My friend looked at me and said, “Did he just grab your ass?!” incredulous that someone would have the balls to do that. I replied that he did and blamed it on the fact that I have ghetto booty.

I dunno. I guess in a weird way it is flattering that I am physically attractive enough that strangers want to grope me. (Isn’t that a line from American Beauty?) But I still maintain that that doesn’t give them the right to. And I wish they wouldn’t. I would like to go to a boom-tss show and just be able to let go and be completely unselfconscious like I was at my birthday party. Fortunately, my friends are spinning again in a couple of weeks. I know I’ll have fun at that show. ‘Cuz I won’t get groped.

I’m tired. I don’t really want to be at work. I’m taking these training classes today that are boring as hell. Why do I have such problems staying awake in classes? I like to learn. Is it because the teachers are boring? Is it because I’m not a large lecture type person? Or is it because I could honestly give a rat’s ass about the stuff I’m supposed to be learning. I know it is stuff that is important to my job in some way, but it’s really not very interesting. There is a lot of, “If you don’t do this, you could end up in a lot of trouble. But keep in mind that this may not work for everyone. So if this doesn’t work for you, do this instead. And if you don’t do this, you could end up in a lot of trouble.” You know what? just give me the important information and save the scare tactics for another day. I know we’re dealing with State money and whatnot. I know I’m not going to spend any State money in an unauthorized manner. My whole department knows not to spend money in an unauthorized manner. We’re pretty anal about that around here. I know not every department is as good as mine, but still. Eh. Maybe I’m just grumpy today. I got a lot of sleep this weekend. Maybe too much. I should stay out until the wee hours of the morning tonight and see if I feel better tomorrow. I should feel good. I have not only a really good friend coming to town this weekend, but also my favorite dance instructor in the whole world is coming back to Chicago for about a week. I should be happy. I should be excited. And in a way, I am. Which is probably why it’s bumming me out to be at work. That whole “reality check” thing. C’est la vie. At least it’s lunchtime.

I had originally wanted to write some big, grandiose entry in honor of my spending one full year blogging, but as you can see, my job kind of got in the way of that. I wanted to talk about how much can change in the course of a year and how much I have changed in the course of a year and all of the people I have met as a result of this blog and how incredibly therapeutic it can be to write about yourself once a day. Dar Williams has a song about being in therapy and the bridge is something along the lines of, “But oh, how much I loved everybody else/When I finally got to talk so much about myself.” And I think it’s true. To get on paper all of the crap that swirls around in my head on a daily basis means that stuff leaves my head and makes space for all kinds of other things. Like appreciation for my fellow man. And woman. And child. I was thinking about it (and stop me if I said this already), but I honestly don’t know what I would talk about if I went to a therapist. I feel pretty healthy right now. And a lot of that is, in my opinion, because of this blog. So thank you, my faithful readers, for taking time out of your lives for the past year to read my drivel. I really do appreciate it.

But anyway, I was going to write some wonderful tribute thingy, but I got really busy. And yes, I did put in an eighteen-hour day yesterday and I still got to work before 8:00 this morning. So I’m kind of tired and kind of bleary, so I think I’ll just post a list of things that have been making me happy as of late and I’ll save the one-year tribute for another day. So here goes:

Dar Williams
WXRT 93.1FM, for those of you in Chicago with radio-listening capabilities
Gilmore Girls
My cat
Soy hot dogs (I know, if I was a good vegan, I wouldn’t eat so many soy hot dogs, but I can’t help it. They’re quick, they’re easy, and there are pickles involved. How can you go wrong?)
My blender and all of the wonderful, fruity concoctions I have been making in the mornings
Moby
The feeling that I am actually doing something at work
Planning a gift for my honorary sister’s baby (when she has it – she’s due in June. I can’t wait. I want to meet the baby NOW.)
Going to bed at a decent hour
The fact that it is getting lighter and lighter in the mornings when I wake up (though I do kind of miss seeing the sunrise everyday)
My blue guitar and the fact that I am building up the guts to be able to play open mic nights. I’ve been getting a lot of positive feedback on my songs, too, so that’s a good thing.
My favorite dance instructor will be in town a week from today.

Yeah, that about does it for right now. Can you believe I still have work to do? Happy Friday, everybody!

Okay, I'm going to post a sentence here today and you're going to tell me what is wrong with it. The error may be with spelling, grammar, or the general concept of the sentence. Ready? Here goes:

I was at work until 1:30am last night/this morning.

Go.

Oh! And today marks one year that I have been posting in this blog. So happy birthday, Indignant Mind! And thank you to all of you who have been enjoying my random tidbits for the last year.

Another long day at work. I'm already kind of resigning myself to the fact that I'm not going home tonight. It's not a prospect that I am very much looking forward to, but if it is something I have to do, it is something I have to do. Here's hoping Owen doesn't destroy my apartment in the meantime.

So I can kinda sorta feel myself getting sick. Nothing drastic. Just a head cold or something. Enough so that I want to stay home and whine for my mom. Whining sounds so much better when you’re congested. “Hi. My name is Kitty and I’m five years old. I want my mom. And some soup. And then I’ll take a nap. And maybe wrap a hot towel around my head.” But there is work to be done. And to make up for all of the time that I spend goofing off at work (i.e.blogging), I feel I really shouldn’t complain. When the word comes down the pike that we’re not getting raises again this year, then I’ll complain.

I would just like to take a moment to point out the stupidest feature of Microsoft Word (the version that I have on my computer, anyway). The “Automatic Style Update” feature. It is for this feature and this feature only that I hate Word. I do not hate many things, but I hate Word. And let me tell you why.

I understand the theory behind “Automatic Style Update.” It is a good theory. For example, if I need to change all of my bullets to numbers or vice versa, it makes sense, and it can be a nice feature. So I understand why it is a part of Microsoft Word.

However, put yourself in my shoes for a moment, if you will. Let me take them off. There you go. Comfy, aren’t they? Okay, now imagine that you are in my shoes, working at my computer on a 147-page document that consists of a bunch of other documents all pasted together. Imagine, if you will, that every time you import a document into the larger document, the format of said imported document gets all screwed up. Things are suddenly bold or underlined that shouldn’t be or there are now 87 more bullet points than there were before. So you, being the diligent worker that you are, unable to turn in poorly formatted work, you set about the task of reformatting said imported document to look like all of the other pages of the large document. Microsoft Word, however, has different plans for you. When you un-bold or un-underline some bit of text that shouldn’t be bold or underlined, it bolds and underlines all sorts of other text throughout your document in a seemingly arbitrary fashion. And while this might be useful in small, three or four page documents where arbitrary underlining can be fun, when one is working on a 147 page document, one has pages 1-132 formatted just so, and one is working on formatting page 133, it gets a smidge tedious to have arbitrary underlining happening on, say, pages 48-67. And of course, trying to turn off the “Automatic Style Update” feature is about as effective as flashing your tits at a gay man. Yeah, it makes you feel like you tried, but in the end, nothing is going to come of it.

So this is why I hate Word. And if Bill Gates happens to be reading this right now (which I’m sure he isn’t), I would just like to suggest that he get rid of the “Automatic Style Update” feature in future versions of Word. And donate some of his money to charity. And get a new haircut. But else than that, good job, man.

Thank you.

Can I have my shoes back now, please?

I have been remiss in my duties.

I was here at work yesterday. For eleven hours, no less. And I did not post here in my blog. I almost went a full year posting in my blog every day that I have been at work, but this stupidfey project we're working on screwed it all up for me. My apologies.

For the record, what I was going to post yesterday was really short and really dumb. Something along the lines of, "Super busy. Tired. Cranky. I don't want to be here anymore. My insides feel like they are being ripped out. But on the up side, I have a really nice rack when I wear this shirt." So yeah, you didn't miss much. But still, I apologize.

And now, back to work.

The problem with basing your entire belief system on a prophecy is that it's a prophecy. By definition, prophecies are prophecied years in advance of the actual event. And the really big ones are usually documented, either in writing, or through a strong oral tradition. So you know what? I bet other people have read those prophecies, too. And particularaly the really specific prophecies...there are ways to get things done.

I'm playing the skeptic this morning, can't you tell? I'm reading a book that is the third in a trilogy. The basic premise is that someone finds a few live dermal cells on the Shroud of Tourin and clones Jesus, which sends the world into the End Times. It's not the most well-written book I have ever read, but it is somewhat entertaining. There are some interesting theories about who Jesus was presented at the end of the second book, but now in the third, all of those theories are being debunked. But the logic that has thus far been employed to prove that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah consists of two pieces: 1) if there are a bunch of stories floating around about a particular event or person, all authored by friends of the person in question, it could be argued that all of the friends are in cahoots with one another to perpetuate said story. However, if some of these stories are authored by enemies of said person in question, then the stories must be true because otherwise, why would the enemies of said person in question agree with everyone else? Pretty weak, if you ask me. The enemies could have their own reasons for perpetuating a story wherein the so-called Messiah ends up being killed in one of the most cruel, painfull ways ever conceived to kill another human being. But maybe that's an angle that just I see. So then they bring in argument 2) Jesus had to have been the Messiah because he fulfilled all of these ancient prophecies. I see two problems with this, the first being what I mentioned in the first paragraph of this entry. If someone wanted to make people believe he was the Messiah and he knew that the Messiah had to be riding a donkey into Jerusalem in this specific year, do you think he would go get a camel and ride it into Bethlehem at that time? I'm just sayin. And the second problem with that takes me back to a conversation I had with one of my Jewish friends when I was growing up. She was explaining to me in the simplest possible terms the difference between Christianity and Judiasm and what it boiled down to is Jesus didn't fulfill every prophecy he was supposed to. He missed one or two things. So the Jews don't believe he was the Messiah because he didn't fulfill all of the prophecies. Okay. I'll go along with that. But it makes it harder for me to swallow the arguments presented in this book. It's kind of a "okay, for the sake of this book, I will agree with you on this point and this point, but you know that argument wouldn't hold up in the real world, right?" kind of a thing.

I'm not meaning to step on anyone's religious beliefs here and in all truth, I'll probably go to hell for this entry. I am not an expert on any religion, so I could be wrong about all of this. I'm just playing devil's advocate here. But if you're going to attempt to prove the existence of God in a fictional novel, your arguments better be airtight. I don't care how many footnotes you have, your arguments better be airtight.

Okay, back to work.

Cats may like vegan turkey, but they don't like mustard.