Thursday, October 30

Barry come back!










He'll be in Virgini Beach today...but my boss won't let me off work. She said once in a week was enough...meanie...

Wednesday, October 29

Yes, I did

The line was loooooong...
But I met some hilarious people and Part Time Blogger were cracking up for most of the four hours we spent standing in line. We ended up at a great spot on the field of Harbor Park (home of the Tides baseball team - GO TIDES!) with a clear view of the speakers. Glenn Nye (running for Congress)... was pretty blah. If he gets elected it'll be a purely coattail victory. Bobby Scott is unopposed, again, because he rocks the Congress. He and Tim Kaine were almost worth standing in the freezing cold for.
But Obama was definitely worth the wait, the cold, the cramps in my legs AND the head cold i've got brewing today. He was awesome. Of course, I expected nothing less. Still it was a rush to see him so close you could almost touch him. For the first time in my life I was truly grateful to have snipers patrolling a rooftop. That may sound crazy, but it's part of the hope/fear dichotomy that I have going right now.
I could not work as hard as I have without the hope and faith that my work thus far and his work once he is elected will make this country better. I am scared to death that my work, and his, puts him and his family in a literal life and death situation every day. Strangely, the bomb squad trucks, the metal detectors, the dogs and the military helicopters made me feel better. His speech inspired me, the crowd warmed me, but it was the very obvious protection that comforted me.
Six more days...
then i hold my breath for four years...

ps - the pics will be up tomorrow, because my computer hates me...sorry minions

Tuesday, October 28

Yes, I will

I'll be off work at noon today.
By four I'll be standing in line.
By seven the line will start moving
We should be inside by eight.
At nine thirty THE MAN will take the podium.

That's right minions, I'll be at the Obama Rally at Harbor Park tonight. All the VA lurkers on here are invited!!!

Pics tomorrow :-)

Saturday, October 25

it ain't over


We're all focused on the election, and that's great, but Pres Shrub is still in office and shadiness still rules Washington. The Department of the Interior is one of the goverment parcels sold off to the industries it was supposed to regulate (like Energy and the EPA). In this case it's the Coal industry trying to get government to flout its own rules for profit.

Big Coal runs West Virginia and has for decades. No one is expecting that to really change. However, instead of trying to buy politicians or bend the rules the industry is now geeting the so called 'public servants' to completely change the rules. When you blow off the top of a mountain to get to the coal beneath you can't dump all that dirt and sludge into or near rivers or streams. Those are the rules. This hasn't stopped the rivers and streams from becoming seriously polluted but it has kept the pollution levels and health risks associated with them down to just shameful instead of completely insane.

Now Big Coal's bitch aka the DOI has proposed a measure that will allow companies to dump blasted dirt and sludge directly into rivers and lakes. Damn the pollution, damn the water table and damn the people of West Virginia. But Bush is an honorable man.

The catch is that this story is actually being reported...well, a little. In the midst of the campaign fever sweeping the nation people have forgotten there is actual governing going on while our backs are turned. We have 30 days in which to let the DOI know that we're watching and that we won't stay silent. PLEASE contact them today and tell them that this measure is wrong, that they cannot simply whore themselves, and us, out to Big Coal and do even more damage to a beautiful part of our nation and the people who live there.

Sources:






etc, etc, etc...

Thursday, October 23

the problem

"I'm not voting for that n--, and I ain't no racist when I say that either."

Uh huh. Right.

That quote is from the Baltimore Sun

Wednesday, October 22

PS

men suck

Monday, October 20

you make me sick

some type of bug has taken up residence in your beloved G and is wreaking all kinds of havoc

at least i'm not as pathetic as the Cowboys... that's some comfort

Thursday, October 16

ha ha ha

A little boy goes to his dad and asks, 'What isPolitics?'

Dad says, 'Well son, let me try to explain it this way: I am the head of the family , so call me The President. Your mother is the administrator of the money, so! we call her theGovernment. We are here to take care of your needs, so we will call you the People. The nanny, we will consider her the Working Class. And your baby brother, we will call him the Future. Now think about that and see if it makes sense.'

So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper. So the little boy goes to his parents' room and finds his mother asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father in bed with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed. The next morning, the little boy says to his father, 'Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now.' The father says, 'Good, son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about..'

The little boy replies,'The President is screwing the Working Class while the Government is sound asleep. The People are being ignored and the Future is in deep shit.

Wednesday, October 15

Are U Watching This?!?

That's the text I just got from Part-Time. No, I'm not watching the third and final Presidential debate. Why? Because blood pressure medicine is expensive. I'm sure I've told you that before.

I know who I'm voting for. You know who I'm voting for. Everyone who has ever driven behind my car knows who I'm voting for.

I don't need to watch the debate to make up my mind. I don't need to watch it so I can discuss it around the water cooler tomorrow morning. I don't need to hear any more lies from McCrash or to scream at the TV anymore. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I'm still volunteering this weekend, but I have to tell you all that Nov 4th CANNOT come soon enough for me. I'm tapped out. I'm done.

So no, I'm not watching this, I'm going to bed.

Goodnight.

Tuesday, October 14

last night, she said

Everyone is either getting married or pregnant. Not me. I will live the rest of my life single and childless and die surrounded by my loyal dogs who will be named after obscure movie characters and will probably end up snacking on my corpse beacuse of it waaaay before anyone thinks to come looking for me. Not that I'm bitter about it or anything...

Actually, I've been pretty excited about the babies. The weddings are kind of a wash. On the one hand you have to find a dress and shoes and blah, blah, blah but on the other hand there's the open bar. When it comes to the babies it's all good. You get a built in designated driver, an excuse to buy baby clothes and toys and at the end of it there's an adorable baby that you get to cuddle and love without having to go through labor. It's a total win-win.

Until you get a text one evening that tells you that A. lost her baby that afternoon. What can you say to that? What can you do except call and pledge your love and support in any form it may be needed? How can a friend replace the love and wonder of feeling your child grow inside you? Or help you through the guilt, grief and pain afterwards? I have, verbally and with the written word, put my arms around her and I will do it in person soon. Other than that if you could all please pray or send some good thoughts or whatever you do so that A and M make it through this and come out on the other side together.

If you have any ideas on how I can help my friend please let me know.

Monday, October 13

Yes, Virginia, Your Republican Chair IS A Racist

"Barack Obama and Osama Bin Laden, both have friends who bombed the Pentagon".

That was the Republican State Chair's quote to volunteers this week.

I call bullshit. Actually, I call RACIST bullshit.

All I wanted to do tonight was watch Gossip Girl and the Red Sox game, cuddle with Pete and enjoy my night off. I didn't want to end up blogging and ranting about McCoward's nasty bag of tricks but apparently there is no fucking Santa Claus and now my blood pressure is through the roof. This Ayers crap is just that. The guy did some crazy shit when he was younger which I will not try to defend at all but now he has worked with both the Congress and the Senate on education. He is part of the national conversation in a positive way.

McCrash on the other hand has stoked the fires of fear and bullshit to a point that he is now actually endangering the life of his opponent. Crashing six American airplanes and giving away military information while he was being held in Hanoi after using his father's clout to stay in Navy wasn't enough for him. Now he's actually putting Barack Obama in a place where he and his 'attack puppy Palin' could actually get him killed.

You're an ass, John McCain.

An ass.

i know you miss me

Hi minions.

Damn it’s been a long time. I mean really, how have you LIVED without your daily dose of G? Well, I have heard you crying in the night like wolf shot from the air by Hunter Barbie and I am here to save you all.

And oh, so much has happened since we were last together. Let’s start with me, since that’s always my favorite topic. The New Job is pretty freakin’ awesome. I’m leasing apartments and doing marketing for two apartment communities that are both owned by a national company which I will not name here because, as I said, the job is awesome and I’d like to keep it, thank you very much. So here’s something that I should probably have realized but didn’t: it is SO much different being one of three Black women in an office (and being the only people on the office staff we are the majority) than being one of three Black people in a company of hundreds. I have to say that I like it. Not that I don’t love my brothers and sisters of all races (literally and figuratively considering my family racial dynamic) but there is an undeniable shorthand that the three of us have in the office that I believe is a racial/gender thing. The other two characters in my office life are our Maintenance guys, both of whom are White, one of whom is PFG (pretty fuckin’ great) in his own words and in mine and one of whom we refer to as the shaved ape - both for the physical and mental similarities. There are plenty more players on my stage, why no one has mined this potential mother lode of comedy for a sitcom is beyond me, but that will have to wait because oh so much else has been going on in the never ending story of G.

We’ll start with Pete. I’m using his real name here because he probably wouldn’t care and because I am slowly getting over my privacy fears with this blog. I seriously doubt one of you will turn into a crazy ass stalker when someone coughsusancough won’t even pick up the phone when I call. Of course I’ve missed a few calls from you guys in my time (just thought I’d bring that one up before Monty and NoR did) but…

You know what I just realized? “Use it or lose it” is true of blog writing too! This is pretty crappy. Oh well, you love me, you’ll get over it and hopefully I’ll get back in the swing of things and up to par soon.

Now, where was I? Oh yes, Pete. Pete is adorable in the way that guys who are scary to others and marshmallow puff with you are adorable. He’s six something and around 200 lbs and he could probably beat you up. Yeah, you too, tough guy. He’s divorced, with two kids that he’s crazy about and no dog. I’m working on the dog part. The kids are a boy and girl aged 13 and 9 respectively and I will not use their names here, because they’re just kids and I haven’t met them yet. He’s also 40 and crazy about me. Well, of course, who wouldn’t be crazy about me? The strange thing is that I’m crazy about him right back. He doesn’t care about politics - or more accurately doesn’t trust any politician, he likes hard rock and doesn’t like sci fi and did not get The Princess Bride at all. This is NOT the guy you’d think I would end up with -right? I can’t explain it but he turns me into a sickeningly sweet ball of goo when he smiles at me and he cracks me up. So we’re about a month in and we’re at the meeting-the- friends stage of the relationship. We’re actually using the word relationship - who‘d a thunk it?

It is not, as you may suspect, all puppy dogs and rainbows in G land. The recent economic crisis has pretty much wiped out Mama G’s retirement plans. It was supposed to happen next year when she turns 65 but will now likely have to be postponed until she’s 70 at least. I don’t usually regret things that I have done in my life - thinking that all the choices I have made, even the bad ones, were necessary to lead me to wherever I am, but at this moment I would love to be able to go back in time, do some things differently and be able to help her financially right now. The good news is that she has her health, her job is secure and by the time this is published she will have seen Robin Thicke and Mary J Blige in concert. Still, any prayers or good wishes or positive energy or any strength at all really that you could send to her would be appreciated. For someone who has watched a lifetime worth of work and savings practically collapse in a week she’s doing really well, but she’s still my Mama and I worry. Oh and if you could spend Nov 4th driving people to the polls to vote for Obama so Mama doesn’t end up a bag lady, that’d be great too.

Speaking of which, I really must say that I am lovin’ livin’ in a battleground state. Everything I said about wishing that I was still in SC during the primaries I completely take back. This ish rocks. They’re here all the time. ALL THE TIME. McCoward (read the latest issue of RS for an explanation of the name should you need one) hung out with Hank Williams Jr down at the Oceanfront this weekend, because really, THAT’s the guy I’m gonna’ take political advice from. Obama has been stumping through the state like he’s running for Governor instead of President and we’re actually getting some pretty intelligent coverage on our local news. I know, it’s crazy. The upshot is that we have some great registration numbers and may turn out 85% of Virginians at the polls on HappyHappyJoyJoy Day (or Election Day for those of you not as dorky as I) AND people are actually paying attention to down ticket races as well. And I do mean down ticket. Thirty five citizens are filing a lawsuit against a city councilman they voted for three years ago because he said he had a comprehensive plan to turn their neighborhood around and yet no part of this plan ever made it into even one City Council meeting. Now it’s almost HHJJ Day and he’s on local news touting these big brother streetlight cameras and trying to act like he’s been actually doing something and they are PISSED. I love it. You know how I am minions, I get charged up when people start taking action. Don’t just vote his ass out, sue him, embarrass him and make sure that your ward doesn’t get screwed again. LOVE IT.

Now, let’s talk about Sarah Palin aka Hunter Barbie. On second thought, let’s not. Why waste time? Here’s a little picture that you’ve all probably seen already, but it made me chuckle every time I opened it in each of the seven emails I got last week about her so here you go anyway.

My company has a webinar on time management that I am seriously considering taking. If I can find the time. Yeah, that was a bad joke, but it was also true…which is just sad. Thing is that I can’t work overtime. It isn’t allowed. Not that I can get everything I need or want to get done in 40 hours, I can’t. So then I move on from my day at the office, usually to dinner with Pete or volunteering at Obama HQ or at the hospital but part of me is trying to figure out how to get more crap done at work. Compartmentalizing has never been one of my strong suits. And now we’re having some problems at one of our communities and the powers that be are sending me out there as if I have super powers (which you know extend only to my awesome and terrible knowledge of West Wing trivia and general dorkiness) and they expect me to fix it - or at least help, neither of which I am at all sure that I can do. So I’ll try to be a team player…ick…for the next two weeks while I am longing to be back in my happy office AND worry about the election AND try to work on Papa G’s upcoming 80th Bday Smackdown AND put in some quality time with my babies in the hospital AND grab some quality snuggles with Pete while trying to convince him that he wants a larger dog than he actually wants…oh and at some point in there I’ll freak out because the whole meeting the kids thing has to happen sooner or later and I am scared shitless of that. On second thought I don’t really need a time management webinar, I need vodka.

So let’s talk about the wedding. Not mine. Calm down. When G was g we lived in NYC (look! That rhymed!) and my parents were friends with the Kaminsky’s. I am two months older than Jason and three years older than Brett. We were part of a close enough knit group of friends and their kids that even though we moved almost twenty years ago and I haven’t seen some of these people in 16 years I sat on a plane to Newark and could bring not only faces but voices and scents to my mind in seconds. Brett got married last weekend. It was a beautiful wedding and she was a gorgeous bride. I was not at all jealous that she is three years younger than me and married. Not. At. All. In any event I had a great time. The wedding was like a massive family reunion…except we aren’t related. (That little fact didn’t stop Jason and Brett’s dad from walking around all weekend with a picture of Jake and I in the bath as babies - but whatever) My favorite thing about friendship is that when it is true, when there is more love than like, you can not see people for over a decade and fall back into it like a soft feather bed. Jason and I could see each other once a decade and we’d still be friends. Maybe it’s something we absorbed with the bathwater? Or maybe it’s just that the people who have known you since before you could hold you head up or roll over are family by virtue of experience. Whatever it is I’m glad I have it in my life.

Mama G and I, as usual, looked super fabulous. Papa G was there with the ?Wife? There was also an open bar (several if you want to get technical) which is necessary for me to be in a room, even a massive ballroom with over 300 people, and those three. A prodigious amount of gin was consumed, I danced like a fool and was caught on video doing it, did not sleep more then four drunken hours a night and had a great time in general.

When I was a child I thought that my father’s friends ( codename: The Jewish Mafia) were the coolest men on the planet. They were young men who looked up to him and shared his passionate idealism about the education system and his commitment to change. He was their teacher and their leader and as his daughter I had a special place in their hearts (I am still somewhat famous in the halls of the administration building for School District 5 in NYC). I saw in them the same vision of my father as Master and Commander that I had, plus they could play basketball and reach the top of the TV where the huge jar of M&Ms were. If Papa G was Zeus, these men and their wives and girlfriends filled out the canon. I’ve been trying to put into words what it meant to see them all there but I can never seem to find the right ones. My big mouth fails. You know how people say that you should go see the Grand Canyon because it’s one of the few things in the world that actually lives up to its’ description? These men were my Grand Canyon and I was so thankful that after seeing them again they still are. If any of them are reading this - I love you. Steve, Burt, Hud, Zip, Doc - you guys are still my heroes.

So minions, I have returned to you as a swallow to Capastrano (maybe I spelled that wrong...but you know what I mean). We’ll all return to regular scheduled diet of political and emotional punditry capped off with exhortations to buy my shit already, would ya, very soon. In fact, I’ll probably talk to you all again tomorrow. In the meantime, may vodka be with you and also with me.

Shalom,
G

Saturday, October 11

I Don't Like Monday

If you can tell me the name of the West Wing episode in which that song appears you will get a FREE minion t shirt. No - you cannot use the internet to find the answer, you have to rise to my level of WW obsession and dorkiness and just KNOW (or you can search through my blog and find my favorite WW episode of all time, because that's the answer) OR you can go to your DVD collection and watch them all until you get there... up to you...

ANYWAY - the point of all this is that the G will be back on ...you guessed it...MONDAY!!!

So, prepare the fatted calf and the vodka because my sweet, sweet cable internet will be hooked up on Monday at some point between 10am and noon EST. Hold your collective breath and buy my swag in celebration, G's coming home with all new fabulousness and quite possibly the loooooooongest post in the history of this blog!

DAMN I've missed you guys!