Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Aaaaaaaand NOW that Joke is Old
Do you ever step into an elevator and, for a split second, fear that you’re going to drop something through the space between the elevator and the landing? I think about that each and every time . . . usually fearing for my keys, which are usually safe in my pocket. Anyway, Thanksgiving weekend kicked off with me stepping off the elevator at my sister-in-law’s and dropping a stack of seven CDs (falling from a secured bag, no less) right on and in line with the opening between the elevator and the landing. So now I have six CDs. Sorry, Fiona Apple.*
The rest of our Thanksgiving trip was less eventful and much more-better. I finally got a guided tour of East Atlanta /
Duluth Decatur (“is greater”). It’s always nice and relaxing to get away from Tallahassee.
In other news, I’m gonna sidestep into Political Land and relate my latest nugget of Pre-Election Year water-cooler wisdom: If polls hold any ounce truth, we’re going to be choosing between a woman who can’t win and a guy no-one wants to win.
Democrats: Snatching Defeat from the Jaws of Victory ’08!
You’d think I’d have a blog for this kind of crap, right? Where did I put that thing?
* no, I’m not gay . . . for the thousandth time
Politics • Roadtripping • (0) Comments closed • Permalink
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
I Never Do This, and I’ve Never Done THAT
I know I really don’t do politics very often (*coughcough*), but I gotta say I was blown away by yesterday’s late news that Bush had pardoned (ooops, commuted the 30-month prison sentence for) Scooter Libby. My initial reaction was surprise that Bush’s statement was two pages long . . . rather than just two words (“Fuck” and “You”). His approval rating is hovering below 30% now. Guess to whom he’s governing? That’s right, the same sub-30% crowd.
In other news, this application process to get Mia into kindergarten is quite . . . involved. Birth certificate, social security card, shot records, physical form, two proofs of address, DNA sample, Purity Test results, and multiple application forms. Okay, so a couple of those things are optional. But, yeah, as we were gathering the materials to submit, I realized that we had never gotten Mia’s birth certificate.
I had a sneaking suspicion a while back that this might be the case. One day, for whatever reason, I’d been half-searching for it and found some half-letter-sized, blue carbon of Mia’s birth information and some vague instructions about obtaining additional copies of the certificate. Was THAT the birth certificate? (No.) The last time I saw it was at my office, and I’ve yet to see it since switching offices. I did another search at home for the same blue paper, but I couldn’t find it. However, I DID find some social-security instructions that mentioned not being able to get a card until we name our child (which we did right at the get-go . . . and we got the social security card [which I managed NOT to lose]). But on the second page of the social-security instructions, there was a paragraph that said our birth certificate would not AUTOMATICALLY be provided. See, I don’t understand that. You figure with all the pointless forms and pamphlets and copies of pointless forms, you’d get a birth certificate from the hospital. I even found some keepsake thing with Mia’s foot prints and lots of blanks for us to fill out her birth info.
This is all why I didn’t post about Scooter Libby earlier (timelier). Because I had to drive across town to the County Health Department to get Mia’s birth certificate. The OFFICIAL one. And, finally, Thursday, we can turn in her kindergarten application.
Right after she finishes taking the Purity Test.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
I Told You So!
Yeah, this marks a week since that last post. Or, last two posts. I’ve been trying to mentally counterbalance my motivation against my “hope” to post every day against my fear of posting trivial bullshit that I’m not even interested in reading. So . . . it’s a Mexican Standoff of mental counterbalancing.
Anyway, the past several days, I’ve run into things I could have made a short post about, but didn’t. You know what that means: The Bulleted List of Belated Reflection® (
with bonus Fun Footnotes)!
- Michelle happened to be in the living room while “Heroes” was on the other night. “I wish I hadn’t stopped watching this now.” “. . .” “I thought it was going to be cheesy.” So, maybe Michelle will start watching it with me when the show comes back . . . ON JANUARY 22. Jesus.
- BTW, I just sent Erin this text message: “Rome is back next month, Hooker.”
- The Iraq Study Group released its report today, and Bill Kristol was quick to call it “irresponsible.” Really? More irresponsible, say, than invading another country under false pretenses with no plan on how to rebuild the country once you’ve completely fucked it up? Or provoking more bloodshed than 9/11 (of Americans alone)? Basically, just shitting the bed. Really, why should I be worried about how George W. Bush is remembered? Let’s mourn the poor Iraqis before his God-forsaken legacy.
- I’ve come to terms with the whole band-breaking-up thing . . . a little. And I’ve admitted that, when you boil it down, I’m assigning blame because I have to blame somebody. In discussing this with my friend (and former bandmate), I was chastised for having a super-secret blog (when I doubt he really reads THIS blog . . . like most of you on The Internets) that I can hide behind. So, I thought I’d post (vaguely) my feelings here . . . in the open. . . If you’re going to join a band, you can’t be overly sensitive. The combination of “strangely creative” and “boring/vanilla personality” is great. But if you’re called to carpet for something you may have done, or if you’re somewhat put off by the actions of one of your bandmates, you shouldn’t chart a course to Oblivion on your first impulse. No-one thinks any less of you until you do or say something you can’t take back. And speaking of “backs,” try not to stab anyone in theirs. (God help us if you’re accused of something even semi-horrible, because you might blow up like Radioactive Guy on “Heroes” is going to. Not calling anyone a “Hero,” either, Champ.)
- My Lefty office-neighbor has been openly curious about people’s reactions to my “F the President” bumper sticker. (This is, of course, a parody of the “W the President” stickers that I really can’t make fun of enough.) Anyway, I’ve forgotten it’s there a lot of the time because I usually don’t get much of any reaction. Then I went to visit my father (a fairly hardcore dittohead), who immediately launched into a diatribe that began with, “Al Qaeda is taking over the fucking WORLD!” and ended with an ad hominem attack on Clinton (not specified which). I rebutted with, “Perhaps the Republicans should stop selling out our country to lobbyists.” Then we called a silent truce. Yesterday, at Mia’s preschool, I was parked next to a large, white SUV I’d noticed before as having the beloved “W” sticker. The woman was loading her kid into the car as I backed passed her, and I think she noticed my sticker. I don’t think she’ll be able to look me in the face again.
- I’m currently reading Dog Days by Wonkette Emeritus Ana Marie Cox, even though she was greatly disparaged by a favorite former blogger during Pre-Thanksgiving dinner in Atlanta. Now, I’m not a huge fan of Ms. Cox per se, but I did like Wonkette quite a bit when she was there. That said, the book is enthusiastically average. And, as I’ve said many times in the past, reading something average (or worse) will do lots to inspire you to write.
- Seriously, this is what pisses me off the most about the Iraq thing: Here’s a guy of limited intellectual capacity, who wasn’t even really elected president (the first time, which puts in doubt his legitimacy in 2004, too), irrevocably fucking things up in the Middle East and shitting all over our great nation’s reputation as a benevolent, diplomatic Partner in Peace. Decades from now, historians will look back, point their fingers at the year 2000, and collectively utter, “This . . . THIS is where shit started going wrong.” You think that our country and the world would be worse off had Al Gore been elected president (or, rather had his victory recognized by the Supreme Court)? Well, guess AGAIN, Captain Neocon! Your fearless leader will go down in history as worse than Nixon . . . even worse than the worst president you can think of (i.e., Jimmy Carter).
- Monday is Michelle’s birthday. Saturday is her office’s Christmas dinner. And Sunday we’re going to brunch with family and dinner with friends. So there will be three dinners in a row at above-average Tallahassee eateries. Nice restaurants, even. I’d expect some kind of fun review/comparison-related post if I were you, The Internets. Pictures, too.