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In the next 4 days I'm gonna work over 40 hours -- yipes. I'm playing catch up and doing double-shifts, trying to make up some time for my otherwise measly check (since I'll be missing a week's worth of work).
Oh, speaking of broke student working an hourly job, guess what my President is trying to do?! 8 million may lose OT pay: Bush administration proposal would dramatically alter rules for paying overtime, study says.
A clip from the article: More than 8 million workers in the United States will be ineligible for overtime pay under a plan proposed recently by the Bush administration, a research group said Thursday.
The Economic Policy Institute (EPI), a liberal Washington think tank, examined a March proposal by the Labor Department to change the criteria for paying overtime and found that it would cost 2.5 million salaried employees and 5.5 million hourly employees their right to overtime pay.
Grrrrr. Reason number #125 not to vote to reelect Bush. Oh, and did you hear about Dennis Miller being one of the new voices in the 2004 Bush/Cheney campaign? Ugh.
But I digress.
Vacation is soon. Can't wait. I may even try to do that cheesy audio blogger thing from the racetrack, just so y'all can hear how loud it really is in person. But then again, maybe I won't. Not like I can take my laptop to see if it posts (since the display is still screwed up).
This weekend was fairly blah. Nothing too exciting went on, besides catching up on sleep. Right now, as I post, I'm missing one of my favorite new Discovery shows -- American Chopper. Yeah, I have a crush on Paul Jr. So sue me!
The other part of my weekend I watched a couple of VH1's I Love the 80's shows. Talk about memory lane. Here's a couple of their "You're an 80's child if..." list that I could especially relate to:
-- You consider Ocean Pacific a designer label
-- Your favorite G.I. Joe figure was Snake Eyes
-- You believed The Last Temptation of Christ was going to send Martin Scorsese to hell.
-- You regard Look Who's Talking as a turning point in John Travolta's career.
-- You admired Bill Cosby's taste in sweaters in The Cosby Show
-- You stuck around after the commercial break to see if the General Lee on The Dukes of Hazzard really made it over that dried-out gulch when the bridge was down.
-- You watched The Tracey Ullman Show for the funny cartoon segments about the yellow people
-- You could only complete two sides of Rubik's Cube
-- War Games had you wondering if you could really start Armageddon using your crummy TRS-80.
-- You thought acid wash jeans were as important an evolutionary step as the wheel.
Oh, I'm sure I could come up with more for the list above.
Anyway, the best moment of the show had to be when they were talking about the cheesy show, "Joanie loves Chachi."
Apparently the Korean word for the male sex organ sounds VERY similar to Chachi. Knowing this just gives the show an entirely different perspective -- and I must have laughed for about 10 minutes straight after hearing it.
Yeah, so you can bet the show was a hit in Korea -- before the first episode even aired. Even Snopes doesn't deny this urban legend.
And with that thought, I'm off to bed.
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Kiss That Grrrl
by Sheryl Crow
(song du jour)
I woke up this mornin' with my makeup on
I've been fakin' it lately, but those days are gone
You look at me and wonder why
I got to cut these strings and learn to fly
But the girl is only in your mind
She's leavin' everything behind
She's not the girl that's gonna make it right
So you can kiss that girl goodbye
We're so glad you made it in this dead end town
Everybody's waiting for you to come down
You're gonna wake up from your dream
You're gonna find someone who looks like me
But the girl is only in your mind
She's leavin' everything behind
She's not the girl that's gonna make it right
So you can kiss that girl goodbye
You could look forever for someone like me
She's just a memory
So you can kiss the girl goodbye
Kiss that girl goodbye
So you can kiss the girl goodbye
So you can kiss that girl goodbye
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Admissions.
I admit that ...
... I often make up words when writing, and am convinced they exist until the dictionary tells me otherwise. For instance, I thought this list should be "admittions" for some reason.
... I'm starting to have an appreciation for Anime.
... I still deeply despise some people who purposefully hurt my family -- and resent even more the people who stood back and watched it happen.
... other than that, I'm pretty happy-go-lucky.
... I often buy nail polish colors just because I like their name. For example, right now I have on "Goddess," when it really should be labeled hot pink or something. Other favorites included Earth Girl, Indigo Chic, and I'm not really a waitress.
... I actually like Justin Timberlake's new single, "Dance with Me." But to be fair, I liked it more until I found out he was the one singing it.
... I've always wanted a tattoo but can never settle on what it should look like.
... I do spend time during the day thinking about what I should (and shouldn't) put on this page.
... I'm anxious about going back up to Canada -- which is odd, really, considering I was anxious about coming back home down South.
... I probably spend too much time watching movies and not enough reading.
... this won't stop me from being a part of a Foreign Movie series that starts tonight in Savannah (reminding me of the Broadway theater back home). Tonight's movie is the Swedish film, Together.
... I have a fierce independent streak.
... my latest crafts kick is making hemp bracelets.
... I dislike forms of organized religion.
... I think that Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" and John Mayer's "Body is a Wonderland" are two of my favorite sexy songs.
... I feel a little bit guilty now when I watch my camp kids play with Cowboys and Indians. I bought them as toys they could play with before camp starts, and now watching the kids play with them makes me wonder if I'm inadvertently reinforcing a negative stereotype or not.
... I have my tongue pierced and will probably get my nose done once I get back home.
... I often say things I don't mean.
... I have a Care Bears watch and actually still own jelly bracelets.
... I have an annoying tendency to procrastinate until I feel overwhelmed.
... I sing when I'm alone in the car but laugh when I see other people doing the same thing.
... I bought two new pairs of shoes yesterday. One, because they looked like Birkenstock clogs, and two, because they reminded me of Sex and the City Carrie-type shoes. Both were less than $15.
... I'm becoming more and more liberal in my opinions.
... this list has gone on long enough.
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Hey, so whatcha doing tomorrow? If you're near LA, you could go to the first annual US Air Guitar Championships. Yes, there really is sucha thing. I bet its really just a gathering of a bunch of dads, determined to embarrass their young ones in the car by playing an air version of Stairway or Smoke on the Water.
My 12-hour-long work day was okay, but loooooong. The amount of kids was reduced considerably, which was nice. I'm looking forward to the 2 hours of overtime that'll be on my check this payperiod.
After my billing for all my camp kids, I realized that we made almost $4,000 this past week. Too bad I don't work on commission!
One of the grandparents went out of her way to tell me that this year's camp is loads better than last year's -- in terms of its staff, activities, and crafts. Hearing that made me happy, so of course I gotta gloat.
Not much exciting going on tonight. I rented The Animatrix and Punch Drunk Love, both of which I've wanted to see for a whiles now.
I may get out to see the new scary movie 28 Days this weekend sometime -- I'm in the mood to get scared or at least creeped out.
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Feeling about 5% better (being auto insured again as of 4:35PM). Here's some links that helped:
New teeshirt I want: American Apology. It says "I'm sorry my president's an idiot. I didn't vote for him" in all the official UN languages. Yeah, so I *did* make the mistake and voted for the bastard, but at least I voted. And you can bet I won't be making the same mistake twice. (via Idle Type)
This one's for Natalie: Reunion of Sylvia Plath's fellow guest editors at Mademoiselle. (NY Time username: grrrlmeets, password: grrrlmeets) Very interesting read, there's even a picture of them all, from years ago. I'm still sorting through some of the stuff in the article -- a must read for all Bell Jar fans. (via PCJM)
From the religious extremist department: Acts of God: America's Warning Not to Divide Israel. From the always-hilarious 700 Club webpage. Crazyness.
"In the early stages of the Road Map peace process, weather catastrophe and recent violence in Israel have competed for the headlines. That violence coupled with America's own battles at home are leading some to question the Road Map. Is there a connection between dividing the Holy Land and utter disruption? Some Bible scholars think so.
Is America playing a dangerous game? As the Road Map peace process encounters resistance, the Bush administration's determination to see it through has escalated.
Secretary of State Colin Powell said, "We have a plan, we have the commitment of leaders and now we have to execute that plan, keep moving forward and not allow ourselves to be distracted or thrown off point, from the promise that's out there with the Road Map, by this surge of violence. We've got to punch our way through it."
But, up against biblical prophecies, Koenig said America is standing against the very Word of God and should expect major obstacles. "
Hmmm. I can't see how having peace in the Middle East can be construed as a BAD thing, but then again, I didn't believe that feminists, homosexuals, pagans, etc caused the Two Towers to fall, either.
I hate Pat Robertsons and their ilk.
And since I'm still semi-crabby, one of my favorite crabby links: CLIFF YABLONSKI's I Hate You. No kidding, one of my ex-boyfriend's picture is on one of those pages. If I wasn't so crabby, I'd go find it. Most of these are just awful, but I guess my sense of humor is such that I find it funny. (That is, until I find a picture of ME on one of those pages.)
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Grrrrr. Pardon me while I brood.
Not a good day. Not quite a terrible, no good, very bad day -- but still not a good one.
Finally got some money from boss to spend on camp supplies -- realized with expenses already acquired, nearly half of it is already gone before I even start.
Head off to market to buy some very-needed items -- first market doesn't even STOCK kool-aide. Yes, they have every version of bottled water and caviar, but no powered drinks.
Drove down road to Kroger supermarket. Proceeded to buy a very heavy basketfull of stuff. Went to check out, had a VERY disgruntled employee ring me up. I think she thought I cut another guy off in line, but he was nice enough to let me go in front of him. Anyway, the cashier was slack, mishandled my groceries, and didn't say a word to me. On the way to the car my bag busted with a two-liter of soda inside. Grrrr. I called the manager and ratted her out. Not a good day.
Heard from my dad at work, knew something had to be wrong. Turns out that my car insurance policy was cancelled, as of TODAY. Today. (The reason I was on his policy in the first place was that it was cheaper than getting my own, with his multi-car line)
So, not only will I be driving home illegally, but the next time I could be insured wouldn't be until at least next Friday. This with me needing to drive to work everyday, and vacation next week. Hmmm.
I was not happy. I ended up going to Mike's State Farm office and filing a claim with them, to be processed next week.
But to make an already long story short, my dad did somehow arrange for me to have a temporary policy until I get back up to school. Which only means I now have the fun expectations of dealing with provincial insurance providers in August. Sigh.
So while I guess all ended well, I'm still tired and disgruntled.
But at least tomorrow's Friday.
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Random Wednesday.
-- Love love this teeshirt, and sadly -- it rings a little true for me sometimes during my day.
-- I think my outfit I wore to supper tonight broke around five of the clothing standards set by Rev. Falwell, linked below. It was a tank top (straps less than 2 inches), the back of the shirt plunged lower than my bra (whatever that means), shorter shorts, sandals, and would probably be ranked "immodest." Woohoo, go me!
-- Called a disgruntled parent today. Turns out she thinks our camp isn't "structured" enough for her little one and that he's had "behavior problems" recently. Hmmm. This coming from a woman whose child yelled "where the hell where you?" when she picked him up yesterday. Sounds like that behavior problem wasn't caused by me and my camp counselors. Sigh.
-- Another one of my campers, a little five year old named Gracie, loves the newest Uncle Kracker song, Drift Away. She sounds way too cute singing it, although I'm a little worried that it is Uncle Kracker that she's singing, after all...
-- There's a place in Savannah where I can get the boba tea I've been desperately craving since early May! And it's even open 24 hours. Score.
-- Last weekend I saw one of the worst movies I've ever paid full price to see. Avoid at ALL COSTS Rob Reiner's latest, Alex and Emma. Its premise is charming enough, but the acting/writing/everything about it is plain awful. The best part of the film was me giving pal Kevin a cinnemon Altoid dissolving strip and watching him freak out to the hot reaction in his mouth. That almost made paying $7.00 worth it. Almost.
-- Tonight I convinced myself that being at work since 7:30AM and herding 35 campers around all day long was a good enough excuse to skip out on the gym. I do love the wondrous powers of rationalization!
-- On Friday I'm working a double shift, 12 hours. One half at camp, the other closing out the fitness center. Ugh.
-- I'm making my parents a webpage so that they can issue their monthly letters online. Yeah, it's blogger, but hey -- free is better than cheap!
-- Still don't have a hotel room for next weekend's Pepsi 400 race. But still can't wait to go!
-- Right now the world's best chocolate bar has got to be a Wonka bar. No kidding, they really make these things. Perrrrfect for this time, unfortunately no bizarre-looking Gene Wilder creators attached.
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Ooooh, ooh, updates!
...from earlier postings, that is.
-- Liberty University's Dress Code for Women. Good ole Jerry Falwell's academic institutional guidelines -- complete with freaky mannequin pictures to illustrate the already-explicit rules. My favorite picky guidelines included all wrap-around skirts pinned at the knee, no shorts EVER, all shoulder straps at least 2 inches thick, nothing above the knees, and no tennis shoes (or "athletic" shoes) EVER. Gimmeabreak.
-- The saga of "Spike" TV rages on: "Spike" Jones sues Spike Lee over court injunction to stop network name change. Let the frivalous lawsuits continue. It's nice when REAL news slows down enough that idiotic stuff like this actually gets press.
-- Statistical evidence that men prefer Southern grrrls over all others. Must be all that sweet tea we drink.
-- Bill O'Reilly's Online Spanking over stupid comments he made about the Internet. What a sore loser.
-- and from the misplaced-but-still-ironically-relevant department:
New Zealand network is calling it a "genuine mistake". Heh.
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The mammoth doorstop of a book is finally finished.
Weighing in at 870 pages, the latest Harry Potter is quite a read. I'm actually sad that it's over already. I enjoy being drawn into books -- and Hogwarts is one place that I wish truly existed. Now I get to wait (however impatiently) until I lose myself in the next installment.
I'm actually depressed at this point over things I've read in this book. Some of y'all may think I'm totally silly for feeling like this over a book -- but it's not the first (and I'm sure not the last) time I've felt this way over something I've read.
It all started back with my first "big grrrl" book, the summer of my first grade year. I was reading Charlotte's Web by E.B. White, every afternoon. I remember this was a privilege, because instead of having to take a nap, I got to read instead (which is quite the big deal to a six year old). Anyway, by the time I got to the end of the novel I was so upset at what happened that I tearfully told my mom that I would never read again.
Needless to say, I didn't keep that vow for long.
But ever since that first reading experience, certain books have influenced me deeply. Let me see if I can name off a few of them: Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns, The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson, and The Red Tent by Anita Diamante.
I 'spose I can start adding the latest Harry Potter books to the mix, now. Right now I just wish I knew of someone else who I could call right now and talk to about things that happened in the book. I just have this mix of dread, sadness, and (diminished) hope after finishing this latest installment. But I promise no spoilers will be posted here, mainly because I hate running across them myself.
But anyway. We have over 30 kids enrolled in my camp this week! That's about a 100% increase from last week, and it's left my head spinning. Today we were brave (or stupid) enough to let the kids make tie-dyed teeshirts. Ack, what a nightmare. Hopefully they turned out cool -- if so, you know I'll put up pictures, if only for bragging rights.
I've also decided to take a week off of work in early July to go up and see my parents in Virginia. They desperately need help getting their "fixer-upper" house in order, and with a 10-hour drive now separating us, one long weekend trek won't really cut it. That, plus my dad won't buy the latest Harry Potter, so I gotta smuggle it in to my momma. It will be a little bit of a bite for me financially to miss a week of work, but I can't see being a couple states away from my family and NOT making time to go up there to be with them. Even broke grrrls have priorities!
That's about all the boring news left to print from down South. Later this week I'll see about scrounging up some anti-Harry Potter articles that'll be fun to dissect.
t.t.f.n.
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Much too busy being a beach bum and reading Harry Potter to post anything substantial here.
But here's an nifty little recap of the previous 4 books, just in case you needed a refresher from the 3 year wait for this installment.
I have a feeling all other reading will be on hold til I finish the last 500 pages of this book (on 300 something now).
It's one of those must-finish-to-find-out-what-happens kinda books -- while at the same time dreading it come to an end.
We geeks have paradoxes, I know.
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2 stores, 3 huge lines, and 45 minutes later -- I now have my very own copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Yeah, it's a kid book, but I can't wait to read it. And since I bought it tonight, I got almost 50% off its list price. Score!
I also wanted to get out and see everyone all dressed up and excited about its release. The first store we went to, Barnes and Noble, had a huge party for its release. There were all sorts of kids (and adults!) dressed up as various characters from the stories. At midnight, there was a countdown and cheers rang as the books started to fly off the shelves. It was SO packed there and since we didn't want to wait in the lines for so long, we decided to try another smaller store.
We jetted over to a smaller store, Media Play, and got our book there instead. It was here, a couple years ago, that we bought Book IV of the series at midnight. Back then there wasn't NEARLY as many people in line to buy the book as there was tonight. But it didn't take us long before we had our own copy and were out the door. I even got a nifty free witch cap of my own for coming to their party!
While the whole Harry Potter movement is heavily marketed and merchandised, I still think it's a good thing overall. There's nothing better than seeing a little six year old lug an 800-page novel around, eager to read (and re-read!) its contents. Plus I like the fact that these books inadventently and subtlely promote an appreciation of pagan elements. (granted, that's exactly what several Christian fundamentalists are up in arms about, but that's another blog rant entirely)
What a great way to start off my Midsummer. I've got a book I've waited a couple years for, I saw lots of pagan-friendly activities supporting it, and I have yet another reason to put off purposeful school reading for something a little more entertaining.
I wonder if Rowling purposefully chose this date?
Anyway, Happy Solstice everyone. Enjoy this longest sunshine day of the year. I plan on celebrating it on the beach with a big book.
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Talk about rollercoaster ride. 'Cept I didn't like this one as much as usual.
Both my parents and my sister/brother in law didn't come to the wedding. This upset me, for many reasons -- the most of which because I miss seeing them so much! I also wanted them there for support.
Despite their absences, the wedding tonight was an interesting experience, full of all sorts of emotions. First of all, Rebecca was absolutely beautiful. I've known her since she was little, and it was neat to see her all radiant and gorgeous for her special day. The wedding party was full of old friends, so it was really great to see everyone again.
All that aside, I was really anxious about going to the actual ceremony itself. I've been trying to keep my distance from many of the people that would be attending this event, for reasons that have been long ranted about on this blog. I wasn't sure how I would respond if I ran across certain people at the wedding, and I definitely didn't want to do anything that would damper Becca's day.
Much of my apprehension was unnecessary, though there were a few moments that were tricky. One part of the ceremony involved Rebecca and her new husband receiving communion together -- and then inviting the audience to join with them in taking it. Ushers came down, row by row to escort everyone to the front to have it. Now I was sitting on one of the rows near the back, right on the very end -- so no matter what I would have to stand and go along with everyone or at least get outta the way.
I had absolutely NO desire to take part in that section of the service -- for many reasons. One of which being that I don't necessarily believe in what those emblems stand for anymore, so it doesn't apply to me. I respect it as a holy ceremony, and because I respect it, even if I did believe in it there is NO WAY I would have communion in that building. To me it is not a holy place but one that celebrates much of the opposite. Anyway, to make a long story short, I simply stood up when the ushers came by and stood behind them to let the others pass by me. It was a little embarrassing and awkward to be singled out like that, but I know I did the right thing.
I did really well throughout the wedding as far as bawling is concerned. I only broke down towards the very end of the ceremony, right before the recessional. I looked up on the stage, full of many of my old friends, and realized that Doug should have been in their midst. It really hit me hard. He belonged there, he'd already been a part of 2 of the 6 bridesmaid's weddings already. He should have been there, but he wasn't. And I realized then how much I really DO miss him. So I guess the tears I felt were both happy ones for Rebecca and sad ones for Doug.
Anyway, after the recessional I stuck around for a few extra minutes to make sure I hugged Miss Sue, one of my favorite people in the world. While I waited to get to her, several people came up with surprised looks on their faces to hug me and say hello. Almost everyone that saw me complimented my hair and how I looked. Now this is a good thing, though part of me can't help but wonder how awful I must have looked before. They seemed most surprised about my hair for some reason, go fig.
Also while waiting, several people I would have rather have NOT seen seemed to track me down. One rather psycho woman found me. This is the same woman who "felt led" to write me a rather nosey and rude email months ago, accusing me of having no direction in my life and running away from my problems. (needless to say, I didn't take it very well and she has since been added to my blocked list) Mike said that she was gunning for me and sorta stalked me until she could hug me and get in my face asking me questions about Canada.
Her along with a couple other vipers ended up cornering me into giving them hugs. Being the nice Southern grrrl I am, I was nice and friendly while absolutely fuming and writhing from their touch inside. I wish I could have coldly turned around without addressing them at all, but outside I was fake sweet to them. Oh well, hopefully I won't be in their presence again anytime soon.
So to make this already too long of a story short, I was glad to be walking outside of the church building in fresh air again after the service. I skipped out on the reception, not wanting to run into other people I wanted to avoid. I figure I'll send Becca her gift and card later on anyway.
Now that I've finished my post-wedding therapy/debriefing, it's quarter to midnight and I think I'm going to run off to buy the new Harry Potter.
t.t.f.n.
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Hey, so after watching The Daily Show tonight, I've found out that Peter Gibbons (Ron Livingston) is gonna be the latest piece-of-meat on Sex and the City this season.
Apparently he's supposed to be a "hunk" that falls for Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker). A hunk? Hmmm.
He was cute enough on the show, despite his his unshaven Don Johnson-eque look and the whole "men rule the world" comment. (Apparently he doesn't realize how strong a grrrl in coolots can be!)
I wondered if he ever did any other work. Actually the other day I saw him in Adaptation.
No matter what though, he'll always be that guy from Office Space to me.
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Yikes is it ever tense on the home-front right now. Part of me is really glad that I'll be away for most of the weekend, spending time with my family.
I'm really looking forward to seeing them all again (yes, even my little brother). I miss living in the same town -- heck, same country -- as them. It's hard being separated. Part of me worries that something could happen while I'm so far away and that I couldn't get home in time. But inane worries like that are fairly common with me.
I'm also looking forward to seeing my dog Spot again. She's getting older, but still has my heart. She came to us over 10 years ago, after Savannah flooded really bad one summer. She was this little puny brown dirty dog, who after a good bath turned out to be white. She's a great cuddler and all around good pet. Plus, now she's filling in as resident child since my parents have an empty nest again.
Not much going on in my life, really. Camp has been a slow week, only about 15 kids all week, tops. They're all so cute, and as a staff we are finally beginning to gel.
One of my counselors attends a super-religious college, Pensacola Christian College. It's unbelievable just how strict this institution is -- and I should know, after attending a fairly strict school myself.
It's funny (both ironic and ha-ha) that Pensacola is deliberately vague about their strict standards on their website. This is only a hint of the rules that they mention: "In today’s society this includes avoiding such practices as gambling, dancing, profanity, obscenity, abuse of drugs, the use of tobacco and alcohol, and attendance at movie theaters. " They also have a very annoying habit of only using "he" as the central pronoun.
I've heard all sorts of rumors about this school, and now that I actually had one of its students in my grasp, you can believe I grilled her about what actually goes on there. It's crazy -- I don't know if I should admire her for actually following these rules or feel sorry that she feels like she should subject herself to them.
Here's just a sampling of what they're required to do: No movies, ever. Not even rated G. Weekly room inspections -- checking for cleanliness, forbidden materials, etc. No music with words allowed -- not even Christian music! You're only allowed to listen to instrumental music, news radio, or the campus station. All grrrls must wear either skirts or coolots (however that's spelled).
Every contact with the opposite sex must be within the reach of a chaperone. So, no grrrls talking to guys unless one of these college-approved chaperones are in sight. Not even when you see someone outside when you're changing classes -- the grrrl who was telling me this also told me that she got in trouble last year for talking to her brother without a chaperone present.
There are separate stairwells and elevators for guys and grrrls to use. When going to the beach, there are separate sections for each sex to go to. Phone calls are monitored, and after you first arrive at the school, you're "shadowed" to make sure you follow all the rules.
I could go on with more of these disgusting rules but I won't. The more I learned about these "biblical guidelines" the more upset I became. I don't mean to pass much of a value judgement on people who feel this way (well, maybe a little), but I don't really see the purpose or the value of living like this. It's one thing to "be of the world" -- it's quite another to actually be aware of what's going on in the world. I don't know how they expect their students to be culturally or socially relevant in today's world, making them live like this!
This type of extremism smacks of extreme Islamic beliefs to me. Especially when considering how they view the role of women versus men.
Here's an interesting and extremely scary article I came across tonight after I did a websearch for "coolots." It's an article written by a very fundamentalist preacher on what women should look like and wear.
Here are some of my more favorite bits:
-- When I am trying to decide whether or not I should wear a certain thing, my first question is "Is that item worn by the opposite sex?" In other words, I as a man should not wear anything that a woman would wear. And a woman should not wear anything that a man would wear. "The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman’s garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the Lord thy God."
-- Of course, the main issue that we are facing here is the matter of pants on women. It matters not what you call them, whether blue jeans, or slacks, or pant suits. It is a main problem today.
-- What do you look like from a distance? You’ve had the same experience that I’ve had of being out in public and seeing somebody at a distance and not being really sure if that person is a male or a female. You can’t tell by the clothes, because girls wear pants just like boys do. They wear T-shirts just like boys do. The boys often have their hair just as long as girls’ [or the girls’ just as short as the boys’], so you look at someone from a distance and you often cannot tell if the person is a male or a female. The only way you can tell is to look at those portions of the body that distinguish between male and female, and by the way, that is the devil’s reason behind all of it. That is what he wants you to look at. He doesn’t want you to look at somebody’s head; he wants you to look other places. That is one of the things that makes this so wrong, and we need to see that. We should not wear clothing which at a distance would make anybody wonder whether we are male or female.
-- You know, too, there are some other things to wear, such as coolots, which are just as modest and still look feminine. That’s what you ought to wear. If you can’t buy any, get a sewing machine and learn how to sew. It’s worth the expense and trouble to make that adjustment if you are going to have convictions.
-- Do not wear clothing that the opposite sex wears. And if you are in doubt about it, just don’t and you will be safe. Just make sure that what you wear identifies you as a male or as a female, and not in a way that a person would have to look at the tempting zones of the body to tell whether you are a male or female. That is what the devil wants you to do, and surely you don’t want to cooperate with the devil on this matter.
-- There are certain things that I like about women that I don’t like on men. I like for women to look nice, and it doesn’t bother me at all to see a woman in front of a mirror primping and fixing her hair. But it just about makes me want to throw up to see a man do that, and I’ve seen men do that very thing, just like a woman.
Wow.
Part of me really wants to condemn this article for its ignorance and hateful attitude it portrays, but I think the words of it speak louder than anything I could muster.
Not to continue this rant, but I really hate how monothesistic faiths pigdeon-hole women into these prescribed roles that are almost impossible to overcome. Really pisses me off. Still.
But, I'm realizing that my somewhat-good intentioned post is becoming a rant. This means I should go get some food and take some deep breaths. I'll talk to y'all later tomorrow.
becky, who is VERY glad she cannot sew, otherwise she'd be looking for coolot patterns RIGHT now!
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Quote du jour:
"I love Canada . . . It is a great country much too cold for good sense, inhabited by compassionate, intelligent people with bad hairdos."
-- The Life of Pi, Yann Martel
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I just finished watching American History X. I'm still digesting a lot of what I watched. It was a good movie, although something that I'm not sure I would want to sit through again. Edward Norton was, of course, amazing -- but I think that goes without saying.
One performance I was surprised at was Edward Furlong. I haven't remembered him in a film since his so-so performance in Terminator 2 (which was also fairly so-so). He's got amazing features -- almost androgynous. There were a lot of close up shots on his face, so I found myself throughout the film just staring at him and his cheekbones.
In the film Furlong plays the little brother of Norton, following his older brother in becoming part of a skinhead gang. I think that the casting director was dead-on in casting Furlong in the role -- at times in the movie he would look so delicate and at others, very hard. It was a good performance.
Yet like Roger Ebert observes in his review of the film, I also think that it could have gone farther in terms of its resolution. It's a hard film to watch -- but important and resonant for today.
One thing that bothered me about the film was the negation of the word "rhetoric" -- every time it was used, it signified some of the trash talk from the white supremacist or other hate groups' messages. Don't get me wrong, almost everywhere in society today the term "rhetoric" is misused. I hate that the word has such luggage and a bad reputation now. I also hate that when I try to tell people the focus of my college program, they look at me funny and ask me what exactly am I doing (and why?).
I used to think that I knew all the answers to rhetoric and could explain it fairly clear. Yet the further I get into my studies, the more complicated my definition of rhetoric is becoming. To make a long story short, I'm upset that this ancient study has been reduced to a meager definition of manipulation and double talk. And I especially hate that English departments are so insecure that they refuse to acknowledge the rhetorical roots of the study of literature. [ rant off ]
I see from my trusty tagboard that one of my favorite profs has stumbled across my page and left me a lovely chiasmus. Thanks for that, Dr. Nordquist.
I was really excited to see that he came by -- but then I started to feel all insecure about what has been written on these last few entries. I felt that it was mostly drivel -- I mean, bragging about what I bought at a store? A song from Lisa Loeb? It doesn't really seem like graduate student, "intellectual" material (whatever that is).
I guess it all comes down to the reason why I write this blog. It's a question that I have debated within myself for a while. Do I write this for other peoples' enjoyment or for myself? Or is it some weird hybrid of both? I think it's mostly likely the latter, while I lean more heavily on the "myself" side of the equation.
I definitely don't think I write this journal solely to entertain readers. I've read several blogs online whose purpose seems entirely centered around being the dancing monkey attracting thousands of hits per day. Don't get me wrong, I do think that there is a place for these type of websites, but I don't belong in their number. At least I hope not, anyway.
I started this journal almost a year ago -- born mainly out of boredom and curiosity. Through it I've met some friends that I would have never had the opportunity to otherwise. Not only that, but I also have a tangible record of what's gone on in my life over the past year. I've always been awful at keeping track of a handwritten journal, so having this online version is not only more fun, but I write in it more diligently than I would a "normal" diary.
Yet there are some drawbacks to having this medium, don't get me wrong. There are often times that I want to write about something really personal, but feel like I can't. There's lots of reasons for this (hi Mom). Sometimes I don't want to answer any questions that may arise from it, other times I know the person(s) in question are keeping tabs on me by reading what I have to say. There are also certain words or things that I would never want to have listed on my page, mainly because I'd hate for some creep to "google" it and find his or her way over here. But, as with all things, you have to take the good with the bad.
Anyway, I plan to keep writing my thoughts the way that I do. Some days it may be both entertaining and witty -- other days just silly and pointless. Keep reading, or don't. I do however promise to keep the rambles flowing.
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I finally went and got the last box of my stuff outta my parents' storage unit here in town. In it were all sorts of forgotten treasures.
There were some old plaques from my high school days which included a "Social Studies" departmental award for outstanding achievement (1996) and an "Outstanding Participant" award for the 1995 Mock Trial team.
Also in the box were pictures of me with old friends -- some I'd forgotten, some I'd very much like to forget and some long gone.
On the very top of the box was a treasure I'd cherished since I was a little grrrl. It was my very own commemorative plate -- from the musical Annie. My grandmother bought it when I was in first grade. I had thought she bought it for all of us kids, but my mom told me that she really bought it for me, since I annoyed everyone to death singing songs from the musical. I guess I can't be too harsh to people who own commemorative plates, considering I'm now in their number. (but it could be worse, it could be a Star Trek plate!) 
Other invaluable treasures found:
- a coin from a Sunbeam soccer tournament I refereed for
- a photo collage of college pals from Columbia International University (the first of three institutions I attended)
- a handbook from the hostel in the Alps I worked at the summer of '96
- a picture of me holding my baby brother
- a road sign that says "Becky's Parking Only -- All Others Will Be Towed"
- a "dab-o-ink" bottle from when I snuck out to play Bingo with senior citizens at the American Legion when I was only 17 (you were supposed to be 18 to gamble -- I was SUCH a rebel!)
- old love letters
- a dried up corsage from my senior prom
- a cheesy Kim Anderson calendar (I liked this?!)
As a wise old Chinese man might have said, one man's junk is another man's treasure. Yet in this case, I think it's pretty safe to say most of this really is just junk.
But going through all this stuff reminded me of a favorite song of mine by Mary Chapin Carpenter.
This Shirt
Mary Chapin Carpenter
This shirt is old and faded
All the color's washed away
I've had it now for more damn years
Than I can count anyway
I wear it beneath my jacket
With the collar turned up high
So old I should replace it
But I'm not about to try
This shirt's got silver buttons
And a place upon the sleeve
Where I used to set my heart up
Right there anyone could see
This shirt is the one I wore to every boring high school dance
Where the boys ignored the girls
And we all pretended to like the band
This shirt was a pillow for my head
On a train through Italy
This shirt was a blanket beneath the love
We made in Argeles
This shirt was lost for three whole days
In a town near Buffalo
'Till I found the locker key
In a downtown Trailways bus depot
This shirt was the one I lent you
And when you gave it back
There was a rip inside the sleeve
Where you rolled your cigarettes
It was the place I put my heart
Now look at where you put a tear
I forgave your thoughtlessness
But not the boy who put it there
This shirt was the place your cat
Decided to give birth to five
And we stayed up all night watching
And we wept when the last one died
This shirt is just an old faded piece of cotton
Shining like the memories
Inside those silver buttons
This shirt is a grand old relic
With a grand old history
I wear it now for Sunday chores
Cleaning house and raking leaves
I wear it beneath my jacket
With the collar turned up high
So old I should replace it
But I'm not about to try
Sometimes it's just fun to sit back and remember.
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Garden of Delights
Lisa Loeb
I see the lights move on the ceiling
And I see the stars up in the lights
I see the moonbeams on your forehead there
And I think about the Garden of Delights
You see the curtains draped in front of me
And you see the sun come up alone
You want to show me just what you can see and I, I turn away
You see my face, you hate my words, I hate you too
You see my heart, it likes the feeling that it gets when I'm with you
I look right at your eyes I look right through your eyes
And I change conversation thought for you
I throw a look that you can't catch from far behind and you, you turn away
You are my Jesus boy, you're laying on a bedly cross
I've got you taped up to the wall
But really don't feel bad 'cause you do to me all the things I do to you
I do to you
I see the lights move on the ceiling
I see the stars up in the lights
I see the moonbeams on your forehead there
And I think about the Garden of Delights
I see the lights move on the ceiling
I see the stars up in the lights
I see the moonbeams on your forehead there
And I think about the Garden of Delights |
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I broke down and did it.
I bought my very first halter-top, and I'm quite happy with it. I like the way my shoulders are starting to look. I guess being a semi-gym bunny helps (plus it's good to see just how all the suffering pays off!).
I also bought a couple pairs of shorts and a sundress a size smaller than normal.
Watch out. 
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Why is it that when you CAN sleep late on a certain day, your body instead wakes you up early? I'm exhausted Monday - Friday getting up for work, and desperately look forward to sleeping in on the weekend. Tonight I slept awful and am now up way too early for a weekend. Ce'st la vie, I 'spose.
But now I have an excuse to catch up on all the news I've been to tired to peruse lately:
-- From the senseless-lawsuits-department: Spike Lee (and shockingly, the elusive Johnnie Cochran) is suing the cable network TNN over their name change to Spike TV. Apparently Lee thinks that the network is trying to piggyback on his name for viewers. Well, let's think about this -- TNN has shows about truck refurnishing, countless reruns of Baywatch and Star Trek TNG, and has it's new mascot as a little white mouse. Yep, they're definitely trying to cash in on the effects of Bamboozled and Malcolm X. 
-- Apparently hordes of Mormon crickets are invading the West. Mormon crickets? And here I thought the majority of the cricket population was Protestant. Now there's one thing I'm not missing from the prairies.
-- Great FARK headlines:
Metallica upset its music being used as a WMD in Iraq
Employees turn Waffle House into memorial for regular customer who died. Ashes were scattered, smothered, and covered in favorite parking spot
Britain declared "nation of alcoholics." Irish promise to get their title back in rematch
David Brinkley dies at 82. Pre-manufactured CNN tribute page expected soon
Singer of A-Ha to release own line of bread. Baaaaaaake oooonnnnn meeeeeeeee
-- The gum with bite: Wrigley has Viagra-type gum patent. I, for one, can't wait to watch Bob Dole hawk this stuff.
-- Equating Paige Davis of TLC's Trading Spaces with Johnny Knoxville of MTV's Jackass: My problem is with another breed of reality programming, one that is far more insidious.
"Jackass," hosted by Johnny Knoxville, at least runs a disclaimer, urging — in fact, insisting — "Don't try this at home." But a certain group of shows has no disclaimers. Instead, they cry out: "Please try this at home. We want you to do this. Really. It's fun. It won't hurt at all."
This evil has a face, and that face belongs to Paige Davis, the Johnny Knoxville of the Learning Channel and host of "Trading Spaces." She seems harmless. But she's not. And neither are her co-stars on "Trading Spaces," although they pose as well-meaning interior designers and carpenters.
Heh.
-- Here's where my blog fits in the scheme of things. Apparently I'm 28258 out of 141129. Go figure.
-- Death in the Snow: Fascinating story of Takako, a Japanese grrrl who went searching for the ransom left in the movie Fargo and found something entirely different. (found via Idle Type)
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Freaky Friday.
Dang it, Blogger screwed with me again and gave me a different interface. Now I can't access archived posts. I really need to get my own dedicated server. Maybe when I get back to S'toon I'll hook up with some computer geeks (*coughToddorJeff*) and get my own domain name and everything.
Tonight I got all dressed up, since Mike was going to take me to our favorite Italian cafe in town (hooray for paydays!). It's called Bella's, and it's very small and quaint, plus has amazing food! When we walked in, I was greeted by a familiar face -- turns out the owner was the foreperson when I served Jury Duty on Monday. I thought I knew her from somewhere. So I guess it goes to show that Savannah really is a small town.
Anyway, supper was divine -- until the lights decided to go out. There was a major thunderstorm, so we had to finish the rest of our supper in the dark, lit only by the emergency lights. Since the power was out, this also meant that debit/credit cards wouldn't work, so Mike left me as collateral as he ran to the nearest ATM. Of course, 10 minutes after he left the lights turned back on. He reappeared, soaked, and paid for the bill.
Mike and I all dressed up and no where to go.
From there we trekked to the Blockbuster and rented the newest James Bond (his choice) and American History X (my choice). If I can ever finish up this post, we'll get to them tonight.
So besides a mediocre finish of a night, the rest of my day was great. I love my job, for all of the following reasons:
I'm still not quite sure why I always get all this space underneath my thumbnails. Ah well, make sure you click on them, and enjoy all of my labors.
t.t.f.n.
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The ever-elusive WMD.
It's wild being back in the States and hearing some of the vehement arguments of support for the President and his actions. In fact, I still remember being one of those voices of support, months ago.
My opinion has since long changed.
This editorial nicely sums up and explains my changed opinion on "Operation Iraqi Freedom." Thanks to Jeff for pointing it out, earlier. I like what he had to say about it: [The article] Makes a good argument for why the average Brit, or American, should have a problem with the supposed justification of war, even if they supported it to begin with. Soldiers DIED for these reasons. Clinton lied about blow-jobs. Bush seems to have lied much much more.
Oh-so-true.
Bits of the editorial worth considering:
Like many people, I conditionally supported the war with Iraq. I was willing to give the benefit of the doubt to the Bush administration, assuming it had hard HUMINT (human intelligence) spy information giving the location(s) of the weapons of mass destruction. I took it on faith that releasing that data would endanger the source.
Yet today, several weeks after the end of the force-on-force phase of the war, none of the reported stockpiles of chemical and biological weapons has been uncovered. Since Saddam Hussein's regime is over, there is no longer a threat to the source. So where are the WMD? Or, where is the initial "intel" report?
[. . .]
If there are no stockpiled WMD representing an imminent threat to the United States, then an obscene human tragedy has occurred. Without those WMD, all those soldiers on both sides died because President Bush or people in his administration misread or hyped data -- or actually lied about the very existence of WMD.
This administration might not think the existence of WMD matters. But it certainly mattered to the soldiers on both sides who died because of their supposed existence. As a minimum, America owes each one of them a straight answer.
I could not have said it better. I'm finding it disturbing that there's not more of a public outcry -- especially in the media -- for evidence of these weapons. I feel betrayed and manipulated by my government -- while also being an inadvertent condoning second party in the killing of innocent Iraqi people.
Anyway, if you want to check out the REAL news, click here or here.
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I haven't blogged for a couple days mainly because of a lack of anything interesting to say, a laptop whose monitor is officially ka-put, and the fact that I've been exhausted. But, here I am, I couldn't stop for too long (you should know by now).
Lots going on -- here's another random list of things that have gone on recently:
-- Turns out I would have had Jury Duty on the same day as my mom, had she not moved away. I'm just proud of the fact that she finally registered to vote! (being the political geek I am, I registered right after I turned 18)
-- Cute lifeguard-who-looked-like-Patrick-Swayze was fired on Saturday. Turns out he had a problem with showing up to work. Ah well, spose I should be watching the kids more than him, anyway!
-- Speaking of camp, we have 20+ kids this week!
-- Mike's watching the live Crocodile Hunter. Bindi (Steve Irwin's little grrrl) is so big! I remember when she was born. She's named after a grass in Australia, if I remember right.
-- I was called "ma'am" today by one of the younger lifeguards.
-- Mmmm. Lemon'berry creamslushies from Sonic are amazing. (drinkin' one now!)
-- I have awesome plans for the weekend -- I'm going to a Monster Truck rally. How hick is that?! I'm actually looking forward to it, as I've never been to one. I'll be sure to take photographic evidence, be assured.
-- One of my campers made me an anklet today that said "best counselor" on it.
-- I received yet another email from the English department telling me that they've alloted me $15,000 | | | | | |
