"Wandering the aisles of the grocery store , I don't even know what I'm looking for . . . "

I've been sick. So so so sick. In pain nearly daily for a week. I don't think I've really been letting on how bad it is, mostly because I don't want to scare anyone. Thursday night was the worst. So bad I was vomiting with my poor boy awake at my side. He's so sweet and tries to care for me. (By the way, if you want to confuse a potty training toddler, let them watch you puke in the potty.)

So in some internet research I found out I've been eating completely WRONG for my condition. So I'm off to grab a book from Borders that will apparently re-teach me nutrition that won't fuck me up.

And I'd just figured this shit out.

So I'll start working on trying out this new diet (in the what I eat sense, not the I need to get skinny sense) and see if I can live as a normal human again. Well, a human that has to think intensely about everything she puts in her mouth at least.

I just want to leave the house every once in a while.

Ouch.

It took me a whole day to realize what was missing. Granted, I didn't know anything was, but that's the big problem. I'm ashamed. Ughhhhh, this is far too close to true.

The Chronophage

I ran across this piece today and was so moved by it. The Chronophage, the time eater. A clock that keeps time based on Einstein's every day explanation of relativity. A clock that reminds us of our mortality, of the destruction by time, and of the destruction of time. Science, art, and everyday life all married together.

Here it is in action:


And here's an article about it if you want to know more. I need to go see this one day.

http://cnews.canoe.ca/CNEWS/World/2008/09/19/6818321-ap.html

Just heard in my house:

Dalton: Knock knock . . .
Me: Who's there?
D: Cargo
(not hearing correctly)Me: Car . . . do who?
D: Cargo bee bee!

White Privilege and the Election

Ran across this and thought I'd share.

White Privilege, White Entitlement and the 2008 Election
By Tim Wise / BuzzFlash / 13 September 2008
[Tim Wise is the author of White Like Me (Soft Skull, 2005, revised 2008), and of Speaking Treason Fluently, publishing this month, also by Soft Skull.]

For those who still can't grasp the concept of white privilege, or who are constantly looking for some easy-to-understand examples of it, perhaps this list will help.

White privilege is when you can get pregnant at seventeen like Bristol Palin and everyone is quick to insist that your life and that of your family is a personal matter, and that no one has a right to judge you or your parents, because "every family has challenges," even as black and Latino families with similar "challenges" are regularly typified as irresponsible, pathological and arbiters of social decay.

White privilege is when you can call yourself a "fuckin' redneck, like Bristol Palin's boyfriend does, and talk about how if anyone messes with you, you'll "kick their fuckin' ass," and talk about how you like to "shoot shit" for fun, and still be viewed as a responsible, all-American boy (and a great son-in-law to be) rather than a thug.

White privilege is when you can attend four different colleges in six years like Sarah Palin did (one of which you basically failed out of, then returned to after making up some coursework at a community college), and no one questions your intelligence or commitment t achievement, whereas a person of color who did this would be viewed as unfit for college, and probably someone who only got in in the first place because of affirmative action.

White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and peo don't all piss on themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you're "untested."

White privilege is being able to say that you support the words "under God" in the pledge of allegiance because "if it was good enough forthe founding fathers, it's good enough for me," and not be immediately disqualified from holding office--since, after all, the pledge was written in the late 1800s and the "under God" part wasn't added until the 1950s--while believing that reading accused criminals and terrorists their rights (because, ya know, the Constitution, which you used to teach at a prestigious law school requires it), is a dangerous and silly idea only supported by mushy liberals.

White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people immediately scared of you. White privilege is being able to have a husband who was a member of an extremist political party that wants your state to secede from the Union, and whose motto was "Alaska first," and no one questions your patriotism or that of your family, while if you're black and your spouse merely fails to come to a 9/11 memorial so she can be home with her kids on the first day of school, people immediately think she's being disrespectful.

White privilege is being able to make fun of community organizers and the work they do--like, among other things, fight for the right of women to vote, or for civil rights, or the 8-hour workday, or an end to child labor--and people think you're being pithy and tough, but if you merely question the experience of a small town mayor and 18-month governor with no foreign policy expertise beyond a class she took in college--you're somehow being mean, or even sexist.

White privilege is being able to convince white women who don't even agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running mate anyway, because all of a sudden your presence on the ticket has inspired confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a "second look."

White privilege is being able to fire people who didn't support your political campaigns and not be accused of abusing your power or being a typical politician who engages in favoritism, while being black and merely knowing some folks from the old-line political machines in Chicago means you must be corrupt.

White privilege is being able to attend churches over the years whose pastors say that people who voted for John Kerry or merely criticize George W. Bush are going to hell, and that the U.S. is an explicitly Christian nation and the job of Christians is to bring Christian theological principles into government, and who bring in speakers who say the conflict in the Middle East is God's punishment on Jews for rejecting Jesus, and everyone can still think you're just a good church-going Christian, but if you're black and friends with a black pastor who has noted (as have Colin Powell and the U.S. Department of Defense) that terrorist attacks are often the result of U.S. foreign policy and who talks about the history of racism and its effect on black people, you're an extremist who probably hates America.

White privilege is not knowing what the Bush Doctrine is when asked by a reporter, and then people get angry at the reporter for asking you such a "trick question," while being black and merely refusing to give one-word answers to the queries of Bill O'Reilly means you're dodging the question, or trying to seem overly intellectual and nuanced.

White privilege is being able to claim your experience as a POW has anything at all to do with your fitness for president, while being black and experiencing racism is, as Sarah Palin has referred to it, a "light" burden.

And finally, white privilege is the only thing that could possibly allow someone to become president when he has voted with George W. Bush 90 percent of the time, even as unemployment is skyrocketing, people are losing their homes, inflation is rising, and the U.S. is increasingly isolated from world opinion, just because white voters aren't sure about that whole "change" thing. Ya know, it's just too vague and ill-defined, unlike, say, four more years of the same, which is very concrete and certain.

White privilege is, in short, the problem

Raisins come from grapes, people come from apes . . . "

Dalton and I had a little breakfast dance party to Barenaked Ladies "Snacktime"




It's so fun to have a child that can play and interact; a child that has preferences and opinions. A little person I can teach and help and meet anew every day. The bigger he gets the more fun this is getting. Harder too, sure, but what could negate this little lump of baby turning into a person that can tell you his favorite snack?????

In a few minutes "Miss Dianne" will be here, giving me ideas of more things we can do together to keep him learning. She'll marvel at him in a way that makes me swell with pride. She'll tell me how bright he is, and enjoy his company. And who can beat that?

Anyhow, we just sent Paul off to Boston for the next week and change. He'll be at ASTRO (a trade show) which tends to dissolve into one great big party. He'll also get to see the Sox at Fenway. Asshat. He'll have seen the green monster live in person four times before I ever set eyes on it. It's okay to hate him, I do ;)

The rest of our week will be dedicated to getting the house perfectly clean and shiny and just how I want it. Hard, but nice when it gets there. Oh, and Christmas knitting. Lots and lots and lots of that. I need to think of some big activity for Dalton and I while Paul is gone. Apple picking perhaps??????? I'd really like to have both of us there to take pictures though. I'll have to think.

Well, I'm off to finish getting ready for Miss Dianne's visit. More BNL for you!

Date Night!

Paul took me out last night to see Burn After Reading. Freaking fantastic. Twisty turny enough to make your head spin in delight, and hilarious enough I could be heard snorting above the entire theater's laughing. And Tilda Swinton. Oh lovely Tilda Swinton. (Obviously, I need to investigate my thing for red-heads.)

We had dinner at Friday's before the movie, ehhhhhhh. I got the southwestern mac and cheese, which was okay, but I was left with a little voice in my head saying, "Mine is better!" (If you've never had the pleasure of my mac and cheese, seriously, call me and I'll invite you over for some!) Then we walked over to the theater and I proceeded to eat a whole package of gummy worms. No wonder I have a tummy ache today.

So this afternoon we're off to go watch Ryno play softball in the World tourney and eat ball park food and probably drink beer. Come home, do housework. I'm sure I'll get some knitting in at the park. Tomorrow, Family Sunday.

ALMOST FALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's getting there. We've had a few cooler days, waiting for true cold. It's wanting to rain today, but failing. I wish it would rain or not definitively. Paul has softball tonight, so I'd like to know if we need to plan on going, or getting stuff done here at the house. Just an up or down please.

So, the surprise of a lifetime, Paul was sitting around last night before dinner time and found an awesome deal on a lappy (Obnoxious keeley-speak for a laptop) Apparently it was too good to be passed up, so I HAVE A LAPPY. I've been wanting one for ages, so I'm all set now. It runs Windows Vista, and surprisingly, I like it. A lot. It's perfect for a computer semi-literate that gets distracted with shiny things. I guess we'll see if I still love it a couple months from now or if I end up running Linux again.

Anyhow, nifty new lappy has, amongst all it's other gadgets, a port for memory cards. I really think I've run out of picture posting excuses.

Anyway, now that fall has started to peek around the corner, I've been lusting over knitting myself a Kyoto: (picture gently borrowed from www.knitty.com Credit goes to Karen and Ethan Stockton!!!!!!!)

See, tell me I don't need someting like that. But alas, Christmas has my fingers all tied up.

Okay, I need to do something productive. Anything really.

Blog links are fun

So let's see, the trivia of what's been up.

Prison Break started anew last night. Just as silly, over the top and poorly written as ever. I love it. Cellphones, no matter how awesome cannot randomly pull data from the air. And one of my main reasons for watching the show was literally removed last night. Oh well.

In other news, I dropped a drinking glass (although it was empty) on my mouse and made it obnoxious. Now it clicks twice when I want it to click once. So I hope you know how annoying doing all of these links is proving to be for me. Hopefully your sense of humor is similar to mine at least.

Headed to the land of wheat on Friday. Paul is eager to golf, I'm eager to let D have as much space as he likes. Oh, and Hickory County bars. I like those too. (And my parents of course!)

Knitting wise, working on a lace bolero for a friend for Christmas and Paul's "ASTRO" socks. The socks are turning out awesome, if a bit laborious. The main body is very very black so proper lighting is a pain.

All day I've been battling being horribly thrown off by PBS kids changing their schedule of cartoons. I think when the exact time that Sesame Street comes on or doesn't can effect my life so drastically it's time to consider getting an out of the house job. Note to self: maybe think about actually doing that.

All the other stupid shit you probably don't care about and/or I told you about already: We've been watching lots of movies. See "Wristcutters." Don't rent Sex and Breakfast. The Amateurs is the second best Jeff Bridges movie ever. Air poppers rock. If you at all like popcorn go drop the $20 bucks with a coupon at Bed Bath and Beyond. Almost 3 is the only age that could possibly be more fun to parent than 2 1/2. We got married. Paul had a lovely time in Australia, and is home until he goes to Boston in the middle of this month. The asshole will probably see yet another game in Fenway. My new license picture bites. I think that's all that needs to go on record ;)

Now's the point where I promise to keep this up on a more regular basis. Blah blah blah blah . . . . . . . .