political activism in my driveway

In the past week, Congress has voted down three separate proposals that would have supported our troops and helped end the war. But Wednesday, the House did manage to join the Senate in condemning MoveOn.

When the only thing our elected representatives can agree on is to silence war critics, it's time to get louder.

Congress may not be doing its job. But that means it's all the more important for the 3.3 million of us to do ours. We need to make it crystal clear that we will not stand down or relent until the war ends.

So we're launching Americans for Exit, a powerful new project that will remind our representatives that those of us against the war are America—we're teachers, factory workers, lawyers, moms, dads, students, secretaries, and dog owners. We're 70% of the country, we vote, and we're fed up with the war.

Here's how it works: You send a picture of you which shows how you feel about the war. Then, you'll record a voice message to Congress. We'll put together a big unveiling, use your photos and words in an ad campaign and deliver them to your members of Congress. We'll make it impossible for them to ignore you.

It’s really easy and it’s a powerful way to send our message to Congress. I already joined in—you should too.

Click here to get started:

http://pol.moveon.org/photo

i sent in my pic:

and left my Congressman a message, too:

Congressman Sarbanes,

You seem to have lost your voice…at least the voice that is supposed to represent the people who elected you.

Can you hear me? Because I will not be silenced.

Your efforts and skills belong to the people of Baltimore County. We want the war to end. We want our families back. We want the lies to stop.

Step up and do your job. Can you hear us? Support Us. Support our troops. BRING THEM HOME.

now it's your turn....

what the hell was that thing?

did you hear that? that sonic boom around 5:20 EST....that was my head. it leapt clean off my body at some point and exploded. i shit you not. i'm still looking for my left eyebrow. let me know if it turned up in your yard or something. i look really weird with only one eyebrow.

it all began around 5:00. i had just finished homework with the lartian, which in itself is just short of a miracle because neither one of us ended up screaming or crying. i put a pound of bacon in the oven to cook.....yes, i put bacon in the oven, so sue me. i turned on the stove to start making french toast. i was whisking eggs and milk in time to the dishwasher-water noise, when i had the urge to look out the front window. i left the kitchen and rounded the corner of the dining room to find schmoo's best friend's mom on my front porch. apparently over the fork and water medly, i failed to hear her knocking. her son had forgotten his spelling book at school and they wanted to come in and do the homework real quick before dinner. um, okaaaaaay. so her older son sat down to do his spelling at my desk while her other 2 sons ran screaming through the house, causing my children to break into a loud frenzy and follow them. and then the phone rang.

it was the coordinating-chair-type-person for the scout pack-group-den-thing we are trying to join. a new one, not the over-zealous name-calling uber-christians. so now i am trying to write down contact information, dates and the *gulp* astounding price of becoming a boy scout, while seven children run around my home and oh shit!!!! i forgot to turn off the frying pan! i checked on the bacon while i was in there and mentally figured how much blood we might be able squeeze out of the proverbial turnip for dues and the required uniforms. after a twenty minute "we empathize with each other because we have many kids in many different scout troops" talk, i remembered the bacon again. it was half-burnt. and then someone let the dog out as i hung up the phone. have i mentioned that we live on a busy street and i have shit myself numerous times when people don't slow down for me to turn into my own driveway, let alone tap the brakes for an animal? fortunately the dog has grown a brain in the past couple of months and ran into the backyard instead of the street. unlike the visiting boys. i'm still not kidding.

schmoo's best friend's mom told her kids (and i quote) "this is the last time i'm going to tell you that we are leaving," no less than eleven times. yes, i counted. at 6:05, i was allowed to start making dinner again. with the help of my two older kids, who acted as butter-ers, cutters, and silverware fetchers, i managed to have food served and lips smacking by 6:15.

i am currently enjoying a stiff cocktail of cran-peach and smirnoff, heavy on the latter. no i will not do the dishes or share my drink. nyah.

pronouns and piggies

I took the kids to school today. I do it every day. I wasn't feeling particularly peppy, and I threw on some really old jeans with both knees blown out, a tank top and a black zipper hoodie, and flip-flops. I didn't even bother to run a brush through my hair, since I was planning on showering after I got home again. I walked a little way with the kids and there was a group of three dads talking and watching their kids go into the building. As I passed, one of them said, "Yeaaaaah. I could wake up next to that every day," to the delight of his pals, who were murmuring in agreement.

I smirked for a split second and then stopped, trying to determine if it was a compliment or a slam. I decided to take it as a compliment, but I was a little peeved that he referred to me as an inanimate object. I am anything but inanimate. The kids were well on their way to their classes and I had already said my goodbyes, so I turned back to confront the piggies.

"Hmmm. Part of the reason why you may not be able to wake up next to something akin to 'that' (gesturing to myself) might have something to do with your poor use of pronouns. I'm pretty sure 'that' is a gender-neutral demonstrative adjective. You were looking for the word 'her,' which is a feminine pronoun. Basic grammar, taught in elementary and middle school, can go a long way toward gettin' some."

And I walked away. His pals were dying with laughter. Whether at me or at their buddy who'd been 'told,' I don't care. I said my piece and I counted to three.

damn, i have a soapbox??

I have just finished reading The Worst Person in the World - and 202 Strong Contenders, by MSNBC's Keith Olbermann. It's not a "new" book, but it's new to me. It probably didn't take much time to write; it is a collection of "Worst Persons in the World" from his nightly Countdown show. Not all are famous, but they have all said or done something so spectacularly stupid, that they warrant a place in at least one book with history in it. Documented factual history, that is, not something made up on-the-fly to get better ratings. With actual reports to back up the aforementioned history. Of some of the nominees, I am sickened. Just that.

I'd like to admit that I am a true Independent, one who votes not necessarily for a candidate because of the (letter in parentheses) behind their name, but who looks to the views and platforms for guidance. I'd like to say that I don't "take sides" on political issues because I believe, for the most part that both "sides" usually have it all bass-ackwards. (Damn I love that word.) But truth be told there is a dark place in my heart and psyche for the big Republicans. They could all go to that dark place and never return, and I would not miss them. Some Democrats, too. I listen faithfully to both sides until someone dredges up their biased religious views and ruins their objectiveness. I try to discount their silver-spoon-fed short natural history (because what percentage of our Representatives and candidates have actually lived in their constiuents' shoes - at least this constiuent's? Ha. That's a pretty small number that I don't have in front of me right now.) I do try to give every candidate a fair chance to tell me how wonderful they are; they just all fail miserably to convince me. They all have pretty tasty feet and nice-sized mouths. As Keith Olbermann points out every night.

The most sickening thing I thing I discovered in this book, is that I still hate Republican radio and TV talk show hosts. I was officially introduced to Rush Limbaugh in 1994, in the form of my supervisor's radio, which I was not allowed to turn off or even down during the morning show...which droned on for decades every day. I actually listened, hoping that he was going to say something positive, and tell both sides to the story - any story, but alas, it was not to be. About the middle of the third day, I started not listening, and my supervisor decided I was one of Them. A Democrat. Since I was not yet old enough to vote, it burned me that he would declare someone who disagrees with him to be completely against him. But I've gradually learned over the years that that's the definition of a Republican. No offense to any of my (R) friends out there....I'm just calling 'em like I see 'em...as Rush would say.

So here again, I am introduced to another madman of the mouth, Bill O'Reilly. I have heard some of the things he has to say, and know he is employed by the Fox "If It Isn't Far-Fetched Yet, We'll Make It So" News team, so basically, I've already named him as a Republican whack-job akin to Rush Limbaugh. And then I read some of the things that he has said, denied saying even though there are official transcripts proving his tongue-slippage, and recanting that he didn't say he said. Whew. Almost derailed my train there. I change my mind. He's worse than Rush. Except he's not tanked on painkillers. He's just normally that stupid.

People make mistakes. I make them all the time because my mouth moves faster than my brain sometimes. I have given out the wrong phone number, paid the wrong amount for a bill to the wrong company, given out the wrong dates of Girl Scout meetings, and I apologize quickly and profusely for any mistake I make. This guy, this person self-proclaimed to be a "fair and balanced" (TM) journalist, not only spouts off incorrect, unsourced and undocumented information, but will not admit when he's made a mistake nor apologize for his lack of journalistic research or tact. Sounds like another major Republican of which many disapprove.

The epilogue names Bill O'Reilly, oft-times known as "Big Giant Head," "Billo" or "Bill-O," "Falafel," "Papa Bear," and "Ted Baxter," as Worst in Show for the whole bleeding book. It seems Mr. Bill not once, but twice mis-quoted history on-air by declaring at least 84 surrendered American WWII POWs slaughtered by the Nazis, to be war criminals. Once could have been a mistake, twice in nine months using the same mis-quoted information is inexcusable, especially when no apology was ever made to the families of the slain servicemen. Sickening. And he's allowed to use his First Amendment rights to misquote all the history he wants. And wrap it up with a neat little bow and call it "journalism."

Bill, you make your News service, your political party and your country look the worse for wear. Not to mention continuing to look like a man walking around bent over with his head up his ass. How about coming down out of your own inflated head and giving us all a rest, eh?

inquisition

1 - who vacuumed up the blue plastic clothespin?
i'll rule out the 5-yo, 6-yo, and possibly the 8-yo, since the vacuum is quite heavy, and the clothspin is not in a postition where it could have been "pushed in" and forgotten. it did done got sucked there. that leaves the 11-yo and the 35-yo.

2 - how long ago was it sucked in?
i'm gonna go with....saturday, because i remember emptying a full cup o'hair the week before when i vacuumed the upstairs. there was a goodly amount of hair puppies backed up in the tube and the motor was burning hot, so i imagine it was one of the first things sucked up on saturday. the 35-yo vacuumed the couch and the upstairs before bringing the vacuum down to the 11-yo's bedroom. i used it last.

3 - do ya know how much damage a clogged hose can do to a $500 vacuum?
i remember thinking that it was very kind of someone to empty the cup for me when i was finished on saturday. my allergies have been acting up and i was glad not to have to do it. i now know that no one did such a nice deed. if i hadn't noticed that the cup was suspiciously empty after vacuuming up where the dog sleeps, we could have gone another FULL house-vacuum session and completely burned out the motor.

4 - why in the name of all that's oscar meyer would you feel inclined to vacuum up a clothespin??
it never would have made it past the beater brush - it had to go in through the nozzle. which means someone had to deliberately unhook the nozzle and aim it at a certain angle to suck it up. your back busted? can't bend over? wanted to hear it go clickety-clackety-thunk? yeah. that was funny, wasn't it?

5 - you know what's even funnier?
watching mommy dig the thing out. busting a nail, dribbling dust and hair puppies all over the floor i thought i'd just vacuumed. a large hunk of debris raining onto my hands, yet creating a fine mist cloud for me to inhale. sneezing into that dust cloud, but unable to hold my face (because it's full of dust and hair, you see) and then peeing my pants while walking and sneezing into the bathroom. fun. ny.

6 - would you like a demonstration of things that are small enough to fit in the vacuum?
hold out your finger. any which one you want. stick it in your nose. anything bigger than that hole must be physically picked up off the floor.

bend over and pick it up, you bum!!!