» Friday, August 30, 2002

Look at me! Look at me! I'm a Lego girl!!

Go ahead, check for accuracy. Then go to http://www.reasonablyclever.com/ and see yourself in plastic.

» Monday, August 26, 2002

In my weaker moments, I wonder how we're all supposed to carry on. When I am overworked and overtired, in the slow-motion tilt to sleep, I yield more easily to the nasty little voices I spend my waking days stifling.

What if I lose my job? What if I lose my lease? What if I'm much fatter than I think? What if all stupid people think they're actually smart, and I'm the stupidest of them all?

Most importantly: What if boys are out to get us? They have dark, foreign agendas and threatening desires. Their honest daytime faces hide something twisted and brilliant that would make our hair stand on end if only we knew the truth. But we won't ever know the truth. They're much too crafty.

It's the stuff bad dreams are made of, that last part. My brain collides with the media in a spectacular fireworks extravaganza of anxiety and resignation. It's all too easy to get caught up in popular paranoia when Cosmo and 20th Century Fox churn out an endless stream of "men are from mars, women eat chocolate." They can't slow down. It's a lucrative business, keeping up with the Bridget Joneses.

I can't say I've dated too many men who would quell the fear. I know my share of truly decent and noble boys, and I trust them completely (I hope you know who you are. And if there's anyone out there who's counting himself undeservedly among these ranks, shame on you.), but they are sadly scarce in my life.

And yet I carry on with faith. I blame the arts. I'm reading The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys because I'm a sucker for coming-of-age stories. And even though it's about thirteen year old boys, who are by nature gross little beasts, it's beautiful. Because these gross little beasts are scared and brave and earnest and passionate and hungry and confused. All things that I understand. Chris Fuhrman, the author, seems to believe thirteen year old boys capable of real humanity. And he was a thirteen year old boy. I'll have to take his word for it.

There are just too, too many books and poems and songs written by men who get it just right. Unless my semi-conscious conspiracy theories are somehow correct, they write them because they've felt them. And that's reassuring. Of course, they've all been watching the same stupid movies I have. But the smart ones are out there, filtering through the muck and panning gold. I can tell.

I hope.

» Wednesday, August 21, 2002

Be all that you can be.

That's a moronic sentiment, if I've ever heard one. There are a plethora of excellent reasons not to join the United States Army, the best of which is clearly that idiotic motto.

Honestly, I've seen a wide variety of things I can be if left to my own devices, and I'd prefer to steer clear of them indefinitely. Frankly, I'm not even sure it's possible to be all the things that any given person can be simultaneously.

I've been a lot of admirable things in my time, but I have enduring faith in, at least, my ability to be mean, greedy, careless, irresponsible, ill, unconscious, inept, and a number of other adjectives. And I, for one, don't trust my well-being to a platoon of soldiers expanding the boundaries of the human condition.

» Tuesday, August 20, 2002

Although there is no cure for endometriosis, a variety of treatment options exist. Goals may include: relieving/reducing pain symptoms, shrinking or slowing endometrial growths, preserving or restoring fertility, and preventing/delaying recurrence of the disease.

from the Endometriosis Association

 

This isn't working out so well. I want a do-over.

» Friday, August 16, 2002

Now maybe there's a God above, but all I ever learned from love is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
And it's no complaint you hear tonight, and it's not some pilgrim who's seen the light –
it's a cold and it's a lonely Hallelujah!

from "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen

 

My cat can eat a whole watermelon.

– Rubin Farr (Crispin Glover) in "Rubin and Ed"

» Monday, August 05, 2002

I'm not actually apathetic. I'm just kind of dumb. And sort of lazy.

After seeing the umpteenth notable personage clad in a "Free the West Memphis Three" t-shirt, I decided to check out the story on this apparent cause-celebre. Color me much chagrined. This is a cause, celebre or no, that needs a lot more t-shirts.

You're probably not as much of a shiftless layabout as I am. But if you haven't heard this story already, I think it's high time you do. Check it out, and write some letters if you're the type who writes letters. Or maybe even if you're not.

Now, watch that drive.