I have no voice today. I lost it last night screaming at the top of my lungs at a sports bar while my GB Packers lost. I have some issues here, people:
Mike McCarthy (as I have said here before) needs to just give me his job unless he’s going to grow some balls…and brains. I’m sorry; I really don’t want to be rude but DUDE, COME ON! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!
There are soooooo many reasons why I hate, loathe and detest Dallas Crapboys fans but this epitomizes their problem: when Brett was injured last night what was heard from the Crapboys fans were cheers and one ass kept going on and on about how Favre got what he deserved and that was the end of his season. Who deserves to get hurt? What the hell is wrong with these people?
There are two kinds of fans in the world: real fans and buzz fans. I am a real fan. Real fans love you even when you are the worst in the league. Real fans know their history and the names of more than just the marquee players. Right now Miami is finding out who their real fans are. My question is this: where have all you Dallas fans been since 1992?
I would like to see the Packer defense in my office this afternoon to have a nice long talk about why they should get paid if they aren’t going to work. I love you boys, you’re better than this, step it up!
One last thing: T.O. did not have control of the ball! You are watching this shit on a high def big screen how could you not see that? When the ball is bobbling in a player’s hands that is not control!
Brett will be ok. My Pack will be ok and long after this game is nothing more than stats in the history books Dallas fans will still be assholes (especially little man who followed me out into the parking lot cursing at me). Watch out Raiders fans, you’ve got competition.
Friday, November 30
I have no voice today. I lost it last night screaming at the top of my lungs at a sports bar while my GB Packers lost. I have some issues here, people:
Thursday, November 29
First things first: My GB Packers are playing the Dallas Crapboys tonight. Dallas is favored by 6.5 points in the spread and THAT pisses me off. The game is only being shown on satellite TV so we have to go out and watch it (with icky Dallas fans) and THAT pisses me off. We are completely underrated by the sports media and THAT pisses me off. Most of all though I’m just really nervous about the game. I cannot stand the Crapboys and their ‘America’s Team’ bullshit and their obnoxious fans. If any of my minions would like to send some good vibes my way I’d appreciate it.
Now on to our post. Hearts posted this questionnaire and it freaked me out a little so I decided to grab on to the scary and see where it takes me. Here we go…
1.What is your idea of perfect happiness?
I don’t have one which is probably an impediment on the road to happy. I’m also suspicious of anything involving perfection.
2.What is your greatest fear?
3.Which living person do you most admire?
Mama G. She drives me crazy sometimes, but the woman is a wonder. I will never really know her; I will always know her best. She is my beginning and what I aspire to.
4.What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
I have a tendency towards self deception which leads to settling for less than I could attain.
5.What is the trait you most deplore in others?
6.What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Politeness, especially at the cost of honesty.
7.On what occasion do you lie?
When I’m scared.
8.What do you dislike most about your appearance?
One word: THIGHS!
9.What is your greatest regret?
Giving up too many times and on too many things.
10.What or who is the greatest love of your life?
Mama G. Papa G. it’s a tie
11.Which talent would you most like to have?
I think I’m good, thanks.
12. What is your current state of mind?
Have you seen The Scream? Yeah, that.
13. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
I would take better care of myself.
14. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Getting out. Staying out. Being OK.
15. If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?
It depends on Fate’s sense of humor. I’d like to be a wild horse or a wolf…I’d probably be a whale.
16. What is your most treasured possession?
Bear. The teddy bear my Mimi bought for be before I was born.
17. What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
18. Where would you like to live?
Seattle, WA or Edinburgh, Scotland
19. What is your most marked characteristic.
I’m…um…not exactly quiet.
20. Who are your favorite writers?
Aaron Sorkin, Shakespeare, Sam Shepard, Jodi Picoult, Ayn Rand, W.E.B. DuBois, Toni Morrison, Nora Roberts. Yes, Nora Roberts. I like romance novels. Sue me. Also – whoever I am reading at the time; I have a habit of falling in love with whatever I am reading.
21. Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Janie from Their Eyes Were Watching God.
22. Who are your heroes in real life?
My Uncle Brother (James Campbell) has lived an amazing life and has an amazing heart. Mama G… because she is.
23. What is it that you most dislike?
The ignorance and apathy that has our world in a chokehold.
24. What is your motto?
Get up, get out and do something.
25. Favorite journey?
I’m on it now.
26. What do you value most in your friends?
An open and inquisitive mind, a kind heart….cooking skills.
27. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Oh good lord!
Not so much.
I’m just sayin’
28. Which historical figure do you most identify with?
I honestly can’t think of one.
29. What is your greatest extravagance?
Going out to eat. (Books are not an extravagance, they are a necessity.)
30. If you could change one thing about your family what would it be?
Mimi and Grumpy would be alive and healthy. We would try to understand each other a bit more.
31. What is your favorite occupation?
32. What is the quality you most like in a woman?
A loving intelligence.
33. What is the quality you most like in a man.
Ditto. Plus great shoulders.
34. How would you like to die.
Well, I’d rather not, but if I have to I’d like to die content.
35. If you could choose what to come back as, what would it be?
I’d like a do over with at least some of the knowledge I have now. I don’t think I could fix anything but I would like to see how the journey would change. Think of it as life as a Choose Your Own Adventure book.
Wednesday, November 28
If I actually felt like listening to or dealing with any of your bullshit, being in this office at all or even being awake right now do you think I would have this expression on my face?
Back off before I fuck you up. Today is NOT the day to test me.
Tuesday, November 27
This is just another reason you should all be watching the West Wing on DVD.
I just bought a goat. There’s an organization called Heifer International that gives milk cows, goat, sheep, chickens, ducks, geese, etc to poor people around the globe. I found out about them when they were featured in an episode of the West Wing and I’ve been donating each year since. This is the first year I could afford to buy a large animal – my ultimate goal is a milk cow.
My goat will allow a family to better feed their children. It will also let them make some money because they will be able to sell the milk that they don’t use. It’s a small thing, I know. Mama G calls me an idealist, but I don’t think that is the case. My philosophy is that if something bothers you then you should do something about it or shut up. If there is something going on in your community give your time AND money (and if you have no money remember that your time IS money and get off of your ass). If it is something in another part of the world then you should give what you can. My small thing helps one family. That one family is part of a community, country, continent and world however, and any positive thing that I do has a chance to affect the whole. That may be idealistic but maybe if more people were willing to do something the world wouldn’t be in so much shit…just an idea.
Check out Heifer International and The Grameen Bank (my two favorite charities). Give in the name of your family or in my name as a holiday present. Go to your local children’s hospital and ask what they need…then do it. Go to your local school and find out what the teachers need and find a way to get it done. Do something – anything! At the very least do your online shopping with retailers who will give a percentage of your money to charity www.nonprofitshoppingmall.com.Think of it as a diet for the soul. Now get off your ass and go lose some pounds!
Monday, November 26
Apparently I was white in high school. I was never informed of this fact. I thought I was born an interracial girl and I have been my entire life. Now I find out there were four years when I was white. Nice of my classmates to finally let me know.
Over and over again at the reunion men came up to me and told me that they had had crushes on me in high school or that they had really wanted to ask me out. These were all Black men. Two of them were men I would have said yes to. I spent my high school nights either in the theatre or on the couch in my house. I didn’t date. I had one boyfriend and he was white. He was also the only person who ever asked me out.
I had three sets of friends: theatre friends, black friends and white friends. I spent most of my time with my theatre friends because race wasn’t an issue – or if it was there were so many other issues we thought were more important (artistic freedom, dramatic craft…yeah, we were THOSE kids).
Apparently a byproduct of my not feeling like I fit in anywhere and having your basic ‘tragic mulatto’ adolescence is that I was perceived as being or wanting to be white by my black classmates. So, what do you do when someone comes up to you and basically tells you that you aren’t black enough?
I’m sure James over at Acting White could come up with some well thought out, moderate reaction. Field Negro and Angry Black Woman wouldn’t have had that problem. Would they have been on the other side? How fucking pathetic is it that I am still thinking about this at 28 years old? How long will it take me to make peace with myself? When I graduated I decided I would no longer try to court friends of any race. I am who I am; my parents and family are extremely diverse. This is my life and if others can’t understand it or would rather judge me than get to know me there is nothing I can do about that.
The thing is that we are all different. After the reunion some friends and I ended up at an after party. It happened to be all black. I was relaxed in a way that I hadn’t been in a long time. I was also tense in a different way than I had been in a long time.
My idea of paradise is an interracial neighborhood. I would love to be surrounded by kids like me: Guatemalan/Thai, Black/White, Portuguese/Japanese, mix it up… go crazy… maybe if everyone else’s lives were more complicated mine could be simple.
Or maybe the African American community could stop judging ourselves and others against some idea of whiteness and learn to embrace all the shades and colors we are.
Or I could just get over it.
Wednesday, November 21
I have the nasty virus on the run, minions! I’m feeling much better and I’m looking forward to my second 14 hour round trip drive in as many weeks. Yes, I am strange.
So, NoRegrets has asked for my veggie soup recipe. The thing about me is that I am a big time carnivore, so both of my versions have meat in them. You all, being big boy and girl minions, can take it out if you want to go the veggie route. Here’s the first one – you’ll get the beef one after the holiday:)
Sick Chicken Soup:
4 or 5 chicken breasts
2 large Onions
1 clove of garlic
Half a head of cabbage
1 Green Pepper
1 Red Pepper
2 stalks of Celery
1 bunch of kale
½ bag frozen collard greens
½ bag frozen spinach
(feel free to use fresh – I don’t have that kind of washing/chopping time)
1 can of creamed corn
Chicken Stock (I use three boxes of the reduced sodium, but I like a LOT of broth – so it’s really up to you)
Your favorite herbs (I use: sage, rosemary and thyme)
2 tbsp Tabasco sauce
Chop everything first. The herbs and garlic should be minced, but everything else can be rough cut. Bake the chicken, tomatoes, onions, peppers, garlic and half of the herbs in a pan. While the chicken is baking start cooking the cabbage, turnips, rutabaga, carrots, celery and kale in the stock. You might want to start with the cabbage and kale and let them cook down enough to add everything else. Bring it to a boil and then turn it down to med/low and let everything simmer until your chicken is done or for 20 minutes.
When the chicken is done cube it and let it sit with the veggies in the pan for 5-10 minutes. Add everything else to the soup except the reserved herbs. Add the chicken and baked veggies along with the juices from the pan. (for the veggie version bake the tomatoes, onions, etc with the herbs in a light drizzle of olive oil). Keep the soup on a low simmer for another 45 minutes – test the veggies periodically so that you don’t overcook. Add the rest of the herbs and the Tabasco just before you’re done. You can use less Tabasco if you’re a wimp or a different type of hot sauce if there’s one you like.
This one freezes really well and is great when you’re sick but as you can see it takes a while to make. It’s not labor intensive, just time consuming. Feel free to add or subtract from it at will. It isn’t so much a recipe as a habit that has evolved over many winters. It is pretty low in both salt and fat, so it’s also guilt free :) I’ll get Mama G’s chicken corn chowder recipe for you soon, my minions, that’s hardcore!
Feel free to sub leftover turkey for the chicken! Have a great T-Giving! I’ll be back on Monday with stories from the reunion…if I survive…
Tuesday, November 20
The theory is that by drinking water as hot as you can stand it you’re killing the germs living in your throat. I have no idea if this is the case. Whenever I get sick and take something for the symptoms I always end up being sick what feels like for…ev…er. This is probably because I don’t change my schedule or really push fluids because I don’t feel sick. DayQuil and Tylenol lie to me. NyQuil also keeps me awake for some reason. There are times when my body has a wicked sense of humour.
So this time I decided to try and get better instead of just feeling better. I’ve got an insulated coffee cup filled with hot water, slices of ginger root and honey that I am sipping on constantly. I have my Zicam and Cold-Eeze, both of which have promised to shorten the length and severity of my cold and last night I found the Holy Grail of Soups in the back of my freezer. This is some good stuff:
(with rosemary, thyme, sage and whatever else I happened to have around that day)
** My secret ingredient: Tabasco
It’s basically a vitamin in a bowl. The hot sauce is there both to wake up your nose and to help warm you up. It works. The next time you have a cold, try it in whatever your favorite soup is.
I’m now in day two of my fight against the Evil Virus and I think I’m holding my own. I’m feeling slightly better and looking forward to lying down again as soon as humanly possible.
Monday, November 19
I refuse to be sick. I. WILL. NOT. HAVE. A. COLD.
Bring on the Zicam and Cold-Eeze, the scalding hot water with lemon and honey, the tissues.
Friday night is my 10 year High School reunion and if I’m going to spend an entire evening being judged I refuse to have a stuffy nose or a scratchy throat. This is my line in the sand and I will defend it with hot soup, Vitamin C and Zinc. I will squash this virus like a bug – and then I will blame that horrible pun on it.
Sunday, November 18
I don't think I'm really that drunk. On the other hand I know I smell like smoke. Not cigarette smoke - actual fire smoke. Cousin G and I took Mama G to an oyster roast where she played beer pong and flip cup (yes - most of them were college students) and then we went downtown for more food and a LOT more alcohol. I'll post more later...when I'm more sober...just wanted to let you all know that the Mama G Birthday Extravaganza went off without a hitch. So many people love my mommy - it makes me happy. OK - maybe I am a little drunk...
Friday, November 16
I left my house at the ass crack of middle of the night (aka 4:40 something am) and rolled onto Papa G's island just before noon. Why the man can't live in the city like everyone else I do not know.
I rang the bell, I knocked...I walked to the back door and knocked again. As I was calling the house line and listening to it ring in stereo I started to get worried. I had a flash of Papa G paralyzed from a stroke lying on the floor listening to me stomp around outside and curse him roundly as he died. Not fun. I called Mama G who told me to calm down and reminded me that this is how he is. True. True but not exactly helpful.
The third time I called his cell phone he picked up. He was downtown. He had just gotten out of court (property stuff - he didn't pull a Vick or OJ or anything like that). Did I want to come back down and meet him for lunch?
Hmmm... Did I want to get BACK into Pookie after driving a little over 440 miles and drive another half hour BACK THE WAY I HAD COME to have some lunch with him. Well, he wasn't dead, so why not. I hung up sat in my car and sobbed for a couple minutes out of sheer relief then went and had some lunch.
I am now safely ensconced at Mama G's getting some rest before we go out for dinner and part one of the Mama G Birthday Extravaganza.
Updates to follow...
In comments: something fun for me to read tonight when I'm wasted. Thanks!
Posted by G at Friday, November 16, 2007
Thursday, November 15
I'm leaving tonight for Chucktown and Mama G's Birthday Extravaganza and of course I'll keep you updated on the debauched fun as much as I can. Look for my Dateline:Chucktown blogs coming soon. In the meantime I couldn't leave my minions with nothing to read for four days so...
In Honor Of The First Anniversary Of The World of G Blog I Present The Top Gen!
(There are 12 mos in a year and 10 is spelled with a T... so what? Here are eleven of my favorite blogs (for a variety of reasons) posted for your reading pleasure!)
What Kind of Weekend Has it Been, Nov 20, 2006
Tomorrow/The End/ I’m A Big Dork, Dec 2, 2006
In Defense of Aaron Sorkin, Jan 11, 2007
Bad Enough Already, Feb 17, 2007
My Birthday Month, March 31, 2007
Bullshit, April 7, 2007
Gastronomirony, May 22, 2007
Reality Bites, Harbor Fest Edition, June 11, 2007
Me, July 20, 2007
And Cheese, August 3, 2007
Zoom In On My Empty Wallet, September 11, 2007
Posted by G at Thursday, November 15, 2007
Tuesday, November 13
Every time I bring this up people say that they are going to steal it from me, so I thought I’d just give it to all of you. There are times when Karma truly does seem instant. Meno has an example on her blog. I call this the Asshole Tax.
The Asshole Tax covers everything from the supermarket line jumper who ends up with a credit card that gets denied to a preacher/politician who rails against homosexuality only to be outed by some high priced (and same sexed) call girl…or boy.
If you do the crime the universe will, at some point, make sure you do the time. I personally think that if we made it monetary an Asshole Tax could replace the income tax AND social security tax, but I haven’t been elected to anything. In any case, we all have to pay our Asshole Tax in some form at one point or another. Well, except me – paragons are exempt.
Just remember, when you revel in someone else’s payment they get to revel in yours. Don’t let that stop you, I’m just sayin’…
Posted by G at Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Monday, November 12
I saw American Gangster on Saturday. I took myself to the movies. That is something I used to do on a weekly basis but which has been gobbled up by the children’s hospital, working, working out, working weekends, and trying to keep myself, my clothes and my house clean. There just aren’t enough hours in the day and Sundays don’t count. My Sundays are locked in until the end of the football season, so I don’t even want to hear it.
What was my point? Ah yes, I went to see American Gangster. At some point I’ll probably do a review but for now all I can really say is that I need to see it again. It disturbed me and made me think. It had all of the standards of the genre, guns, money, drugs, women and violence. It also had something…more. I’m not sure if it was because of the time period or the approach to the subject or both or something else entirely. It’s two days later and my reaction to it keeps changing.
By the time I started going to daycare, kindergarten etc in Harlem Frank Lucas was off the streets. By the time he got out of prison we were living in SC. I keep thinking about that but I don’t know why. I keep thinking of all of the people he murdered, his people from his community. I keep thinking about whether or not the entire thing was inevitable and whether Harlem was better or worse off with Lucas and not the Italians running things. There are so many questions in my head.
I’m not sure I want to see it again; a lot of the imagery is extremely effective and disturbing. I’m going to see it again though, because I have a need to figure out, as much as I can, the myriad reactions I am still having to this film. I can say that this is a great and terrible film in the truest meanings of the words.
Saturday, November 10
This is for NoRegrets and Susan – who wanted the truth:
I don’t know how it started. There were troubling moments in my childhood; flashes of black and white passing out of the corner of my eye when I was under the water in our swimming pool, the feeling that I was not alone. It was a sort of claustrophobia which I knew to be ridiculous even at ten. Of course I was alone; the water was the clear chlorinated blue indigenous to suburbia. Oddly enough, when I was away at camp and swimming in mud brown water the thoughts never occurred to me. There were no flashes. None of this stopped me from ‘swimming like a fish’ as Mama G put it. The woman is a master of irony.
I’m not quite sure when a mild revulsion for whales turned into a phobia. I know, I know. I’ll wait until the chuckles have passed, it’s ok. I went whale watching off Nantucket with my mom on one of our trips to Happy Yankee Land and I was fine. It was fun. It was tons of fun actually at a time when my mom and I weren’t having all that much fun together.
Now when I see them (painted on buildings, in insurance commercials, Disney movies, at Seas World or in the Ocean) I shrink away. My palms break out in a cold sweat and I can feel panic rising in my chest. I start to cry and I shiver with disgust the way you would over a mangled and bloody corpse. My stomach rolls and if I close my eyes I can see Shamu gliding beside me in clear blue water. It is honestly the most frightening image I can think of. I don’t know if it’s a remembered dream or if I was somehow dropped into the tank at Sea World when I was a child and I’ve repressed the memory.
The thing is that I know it’s silly but there really isn’t anything I can do about it. I generally just try to avoid things that involve whales or if I can’t do that to suppress my reaction so people don’t think I’m completely nuts. I once had a roommate who thought it would be funny to toss a blow up killer whale into my bed in the middle of the night. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared and angry at the same time. She stopped laughing quickly enough. I stopped telling people about it for a while after that.
Yesterday I checked in at NoR’s blog and got a nasty surprise. Actually for anyone else it would have been a lovely surprise. It’s a quilt. It has whales on it. That brings me to this:
Hello, my name is G and I have a whale phobia.
Friday, November 9
So, so, so much nothing going on right now!
- It’s a cold, grey Friday. I really don’t feel like doing anything.
- I have three new books at home and some super fab pasta…why am I at work???
- My brother was on Life this week. He’s the computer nerd. GO. WATCH. NOW.
- A new Bojangles opened up right near our office. One of the salesmen went and got everyone breakfast. Everyone but me because I can’t have really yummy, greasy, ulcer irritating FREE food. I can however listen to everyone else groan and moan with pleasure at their breakfasts while I eat my yogurt. It’s like food porn around here. Bastards.
- I never really woke up this morning. I got up. It’s different.
- I seem to be the person in the office people come to with life questions. I don’t know why – I really don’t like any of them and tend not to actually think before dispensing advice.
- The day after our local elections were over and those pointless hatchet jobs people call political commercials were off the air we ended up with a flood of high fructose holiday ads. If I went on a killing spree of ad execs do you think anyone would care? Except whoever thought up the Geico lizard. You’re safe.
- I think Damon Wayans and Rush Limbaugh should be locked in a glass room and forced to fight to the death. Then we flood the room with gas to finish of the ‘murderer’. Two birds, one stone. AND we could televise it to help get us through the writer’s strike. I’m a freaking genius. Why? Go here.
- I'm heading down to Chucktown next week for Mama G's Birthday Extravaganza. I go into training today.
So, what's up with the minions?
Wednesday, November 7
Ok, Minions, normally I don’t post twice in one day but I feel the need to speak, so here goes: Dog the Idiot did not, I repeat, NOT make a mistake. He did not speak out of turn and he did not think he was ‘honorarily’ allowed to use the N word. HE IS LYING TO YOU. What’s worse than that is that you are accepting it and encouraging it. Listen to the tape. He actually says that he doesn’t want the woman around because at some point she would hear them using the N word and it would get out and destroy his career. He is not sorry; he is scared to lose the lifestyle he has become accustomed to because he has been exposed.
A lot of the news coverage and blogs seem to be more upset with what he said than the intention behind it. The man is a racist. He is not only bigoted towards Blacks and he has done this before. I don’t feel bad that his son ‘sold him out’ either. If he hadn’t been a racist jackass there wouldn’t have been a tape to sell.
I am not against forgiveness, but there seems to be an idea in this country that it’s fine to be a racist jackass as long as no one catches you saying anything about it. He is apologizing for words, and he’s not even really apologizing for them. He is LYING and excusing the WORDS – not the thoughts or feelings. Until we can all be honest with each other about the way we think and feel about each other these things will continue to happen. They are a symptom and we need to stop treating them like a cause. Getting people to shut up is not the answer. Using politically correct language isn’t either. How about we try some honesty?
Hey Dog, why don’t you just tell people that you meant every word? Tell us that you’re scared now and you don’t know what to do so you’re counting on your spin-meisters to get you out of this. Tell us that this might make you watch your mouth, but won’t alter you thoughts or behaviors one bit. Be fucking honest. I for one, might actually want to help you then. Until that time you can kiss my black ass.
Posted by G at Wednesday, November 07, 2007
“I have a position open on my penis.”
If you didn’t watch House last night you won’t understand why I am laughing almost to the point of hysteria every time I think of that sentence. It wasn’t just what he said, but the way he said it, where he said it and who he said it to. It was the entire House package. So far my day has bit supreme ass and blown harder than a fucking hurricane, but I think of that line and I crack up. Maybe I should be offended, but I just can’t get there through the laughter.
AND it looks like Michael Michele is joining the cast (at least for a while) so now there are four ‘obvious minorities’ on the show (another phrase that should probably piss me off on some level that doesn't). At this rate they might approach something close to racial diversity by the end of the season. I’ll keep you updated. Now go to Fox.com and watch the episode.
Tuesday, November 6
I wrote yesterday about truth. I was writing about all kinds of truth but it seems that the chord struck when I touched on truth in politics. Is there such a thing? Let’s forget for a moment the BVPontiff’s argument about the inherent subjectivity of truth and assume for the purpose of this post that there are basic objective truths. Now, let me explain where all of this is coming from.
My mother is a Hillary Clinton fan. We can’t talk about it anymore. I cannot tell you how much I want to be able to vote for Hillary Clinton. I want to be able to tell my children and grand children that I voted for the first female President. The problem is that Hillary Clinton scares the hell out of me. Yes, most of the GOP field turns my stomach and I will work hard to keep them out of the White House but even they don’t scare me as much as she does. She has the country believing that she wants change. I think that Hillary wants to be President. I think that is all she wants. I don’t believe that she cares about you or me. I don’t believe she cares about the issues at all. I believe she wants to win. She will say what she has to and do what she has to. She will take money from anyone and play every divisive card she has. We aren’t talking about interns now, there are people’s lives at stake and if anyone thinks that’s a double standard or unfair that’s fine with me. It might be a double standard and it may be unfair but I don’t give a shit. The world has changed. George Bush sent my friends off to die and he lied about why he was doing it. He lied to them as he sent them into harm’s way. Hillary refuses to give a straight answer about one single thing and each move she makes runs counter to the words she speaks. She is incapable of answering a yes or no question, incapable of standing up to power, incapable of not pandering with every word that comes out of her mouth. Will she bring my friends home? Will she tell them the truth? No. What will she do? Well, it depends on the day you ask her. If anyone has ever gotten a straight answer out of her please let me know. I can’t trust even that she will stick to her own convictions, because I honestly haven’t seen any evidence that she has any. None of us would have any idea what she would do about a given situation, but my guess is that it would be whatever was most politically expedient.
I understand that I am not making a rational argument. I don’t really care. I do not trust that woman one iota. I don’t trust her with my life, my family’s and friends’ or with the stewardship of my country. Substitute ‘Politics’ for ‘Religion’ change the clothes and hair and there actually isn’t too much difference between George and Hillary. That is what I believe and I am not afraid to say it out loud or in print or anywhere. I wish either of them was able to say the same.
Posted by G at Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Monday, November 5
My boss had emergency root canal...and I sent this to her because I'm such a sweetie...
I’m thinking about honesty and how no one seems to want it in our public forums anymore. Politicians are not allowed to tell the truth. Their staff won’t let them because they know that we do not want to hear it. They are not allowed to say what they believe to be true without the varnish of one special interest group or another and without the polish of the party line. Do we want to hear the truth? Do we want to hear that the country is in massive debt and tax cuts won’t get us out of it? Do we want to hear the truth about Iraq? Iran? North Korea? China? Us? No. I don’t think we do.
Dog the Idiot- I mean bounty hunter – is going on an apology tour trying to spin his use of the N word. What would happen if he said “I have no respect for Black people and do not want anyone in my family involved with one. The very idea scares the shit out of me and I will disown my son if he continues this relationship”? He would be vilified for not apologizing for his beliefs and lying to us all about how he was going to change and how he didn’t really mean it. Why not start with the truth? Even if it is ugly? If we never admit to the problem how can we solve it?
The backlash to “Come On People” is pissing me off. Two intelligent, thoughtful and learned men have put together a book addressing a wide range of issues facing this country. There are hard truths in the book. Because some people are made uncomfortable when the mirror is aimed in their direction they are attacking the premise of the book. This is bullshit. Just because you don’t want to hear it doesn’t make it any less true.
I think it is time that we all start asking some tough questions. We need to ask them of ourselves, of each other, of our communities and of our leaders. The first question is this; do you want to know the truth?
Friday, November 2
I had a dream last night that I was locked in mortal combat with an old roommate. Not the movie or video game – we were actively trying to kill each other. I wasn’t trying to kill her so much as she was trying to tear my face of with her teeth and I was trying to stop her. It ain’t much, but it’s MY face, you know?
I think it was the wind. While that is the dream that I remember I know there were others just as disturbing and violent. I woke with the feeling of them lingering in the recesses of my brain. The winds from Hurricane Noel began to reach us last night. They stirred the leaves in the courtyard and set the power lines to thumping. They whistled, whined and moaned. They invaded my dreams somehow.
Somehow a MySpace comment from L saying she missed me and asking when I was coming to SC for a visit next turned into fight for my life. I don’t know what the other dreams were about and I don’t think I want to know. Whatever demons surfaced last night I will elect to believe were borne on the winds and not stirred by them from the recesses of my mind.
I will not be working this weekend! Very exciting. Don’t know if I’ll sleep in though…
Thursday, November 1
I’m not big on blaming others for my bad days. I will blame you for being a jackass, but I accept the responsibility for how I react to your jackassery. That being said, I do not always react well. I don’t always want to react well. I don’t think it’s that important for me to be a paragon of maturity all the time (or ever, for that matter). I believe that as long as I am not imposing my moods onto anyone else I should be left alone to have whatever kind of snit I want.
Honestly things are going about as well as can be expected right now. The meds are starting to work on the ulcers so I’m in less pain; nice things were said about me on the CEO’s blog and on the latest BVPodcast. I had a great bookstore brainstorm yesterday and have worked out some new ideas for it and I am moving forward with my plans.
I’m not complaining. I am not whining. I haven’t asked anyone for anything. Today seems to be one of those days, however, when all anyone seems to care about is ‘how are you’. I have already explained why I think that is the most pointless question ever and why it annoys the ever living hell out of me.
The irony is that I was actually in a pretty great mood before the poking, prodding and fake ass concerned smiles. I was reading my morning blogs and you guys were cracking me up. I was emailing everyone the new Black Vatican banners (get them here and put them all over everything!!!) and trying not to laugh too loud. What I was not doing was hanging out in the hallway with Evil Dead Bitch From Hell and Moronic Manager chatting with every idiot who walked by. Apparently that was where I made my big mistake. News is already making the rounds that G ‘isn’t doing well today.’
I’m telling you, minions, it’s enough to make a Wench Goddess like myself violent. And then they crack jokes about how I ended up with ulcers. Maybe from choking back the bile that rises each time I have to speak to you instead of punching you in the face? Just an idea…
I bet you saw that quote and thought this would be an enlightened post…