Wow. That's all I have to say. Wow.

it's hard to believe this month has flown by, but I can't say that I'm upset about it. It's been one thing after another and I guess for anyone who actually checks into this thing, the latest thing I can say is that I'm good. Busy as all hell, but feeling quite good.

The thing is, I've been running around this state, between here and Maryland, between here and New York, and between here and Philly. And yes, I work seven days a week. Call me crazy, but it's the only speed I know. I suppose at some point, my body will stop me from doing such things - as it almost did at the beginning of the month. So, in typical "I haven't written a blog in weeks" fashion, an update on all things fabulous and not in my life:

THE SPRING OF BASEBALL.
Perhaps some of you know, perhaps some of you don't - I happen to be a big fan of America's favorite pastime. As evidenced by posts as the legendary Orioles/Twins game from before - this is truly the spring of baseball. It's funny how it's always when I leave NYC that I tend to watch more baseball. Because it used to be right there in front of me and I suppose part of leaving New York is that at least I get to watch my beloved boys play no matter where I am. Except that I'm in Delaware. Which means that I have to go to Buffalo Wild Wings to watch them play because they're the only place in this state with the YES Network (That's the exclusive Yankees network for those of you that are unaware). The point is, even though I'm a die-hard, dyed-in-the-wool Yankees fan, I have only seen them play once this spring. And until two weeks ago, I was averaging a game a week. I've seen the Phillies, the Cardinals, the Twins, the Orioles - and the Yankees - only once. Something needed to be done. Especially since I've now got my co-workers watching them as often as I am, being the Braves and Cardinals fans that they are - they think the Yanks are hot and I've gotta say that I whole-heartedly agree.

The point is, I plunked down a lot of cash and in two weeks, the three of us are going up to Yankees Stadium and meet up with another die-hard Bronx Bombers fan to watch them in action at the House that Ruth Built - and in the section right behind home plate and close to the Yankee dugout. Excuse me while I take a moment to dance around my room.

Thank you.

I barely get to see them much being down here, but I've managed to keep tabs on most of the games. Which brings me to my next point.

XM RADIO
I caved in and finally bought one last month and I can't get enough of the damn thing. Hell, I bought it so that I could listen to my Yankees no matter where I am. So if you're thinking about spending the money to get one, I highly recommend it. It's possibly one of the most useful things I've bought myself - and I've stopped listening to the conventional radio, which always ruins music for me.

FILLIBUSTER, BOLTON, and BILL FRIST
Yes, I won't wax political or philisophical about this one. Obviously, I grinned as last week ended when I read the words, "Frist cedes control of Senate to Reid" in the Washington Post. But what I will say is this: cooler heads prevailed and in the meantime, I think I finally saw and heard of Senators I had long thought had died. See, the Fillibuster fight would have dictated much of what I do since my job is tied to what happens in the Senate (for obvious reasons I choose not to go into right now). So while working last week, I found myself listening to C-SPAN all week, something even a political animal like myself have never done for hours at a time, and finding it very interesting. Beyond that, not much has changed. Except that even with a Republican majority in both the House, Senate, and White House, we are finally hanging together. It's not quite as much progress as my little liberal beating heart can hope for, but under the circumstances, I'm pretty darn pleased.

WC DEBAUCHERY AND WHERE THE HELL IS MY CELLPHONE CHARGER?
Yet another Washington College graduation gone by. As an older alum who was using graduation weekend as a relaxing break from the hey day of Social Security reform, I decided that instead of going to the bars at all this weekend, I'd stay in with friends and have some down time. So we did.

Stayed at Middle Hall with the crew and didn't leave all weekend. Seriously. I decided that if people wanted to see me, they could get their ass to me since I wasn't going far. Turned out for the better, I think.

We had a WC Happening on the front porch and into the Cater Walk. Brought the guitar and mic along. We played, we laughed, we reminisced. We then decided to play "Fifty Guineas and a Dream" and see if anyone could correctly answer some WC trivia. Turns out we not only know a lot about the history of our college (and we're talking real obscure things), but we can make it fun. I guess that when your college is the only one in the country licensed to use George Washington's name (legally) and you are the 10th college in the nation, there's a lot to ask. Lemme clarify for all of you the title of our trivia game - George Washington himself gave us his name and fifty guineas to start up the college and being the aweomest ever, we have decided that means George gave us fifty guineas and a dream. He also did serve on our Board of Visitors and Governors and left because he became president. Not too shabby.

I digress.

So after many hours of "Fifty Guineas" and a load of drinking whilst doing it, we retreated into one of the rooms where we had the fully stocked bar and proceeded to have a very good time. I made up new concoctions that were lauded by everone. I called them "Monkey Juice" and the even more popular "Monkey Punch" and then it was DOMA time. We initiated two kiddies and before you could say "May Day," it was Sunday and time for mimosas during graduation.

After graduation, we hurried out of the dorm (though not quick enough because I spent over $200 at the bookstore - don't ask) and towards Rock Hall where a co-worker of Lindsay's has a house on the bay. We spent the afternoon staring at the Chesapeake Bay, having a barbecue, driving around in a golf cart, and swimming in the indoor pool before saying our goodbyes to yet another fantastic reunion weekend.

On the drive home, I started thinking and wondering whether or not I had grabbed my cellphone charger out of the dorm before I left. I was only twenty minutes away from the college and almost turned around because I was sure I had. The only thing was that I didn't have a clue as to how to get back in the dorm.

Sure enough, I couldn't find it when I got home. So I've been calling the school and it turns out that they couldn't find it, either.

So what the hell happened to my cellphone charger, dammit?!

I'm still sad. Or pissed. I can't tell the difference.

I'M CROOKED.
Going back to that thing in the beginning of this post, my back hurt me for more than a month straight. And not just a dull little pain, but serious sharp pain. So I started going to a chiropractor. Which has been fantastic. It helps that he's pretty cute, too. But that's neither here nor there. It turns out that I had a group of muscles on one side working against a group of muscles on the other. Also, you're supposed to have these fluid-filled sacs between your vertebrae and after years of chronic pain without any adjustments at all, my lumbar vertebrae sacs are extremely compressed. So this is what the trainers were saying to me in crew. Of course, they didn't fix me at all. So I leave it to my chiropractor to straighten me out. I've been going three times a week and since I started, I'm feeling incredibly better. Progress is steady and my body has begun to make some serious changes to the adjustments. I'm not quite out of the woods yet, things are starting to stay in place and now my spine is correcting, so the pain will sometimes dissapate and then suddenly, it's back again - and spreading to my upper and mid back - but I'm told this is normal. Either way, I'm finally fixing a problem that has been vexing me for most of my life - from the time I was a kid. Funny how no doctors ever fixed it before.

THE ANNUAL CORO DINNER AND FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, I MISS NEW YORK.
I went to the Annual Coro Dinner last week and it was amazing. They had it at the Lighthouse at Pier 61 at Chelsea Piers and it was so incredibly shee-shee-pee-pee-doo-doo. Then again, I did pay a lot of money to go.

The room has these huge windows and being on the pier, the view of the Hudson is fantastic. Walking in, they had these trays of drinks that were splederific and hors d'ourves that were amazing - I'm talking truffles, salmon, crab, stuffed noodles with asparagus. Then the room opened up for the dinner and this year, instead of spreading out Coro alum amongst the tables, they seated all of us together. Which might have been a mistake.

We were so far away from the action that we found ourselves not paying attention at all. Plus, our table had only six people total and the table had settings for at least twelve. There were glasses of wine in front of us. We were lightyears away from the action. So we decided to drink and whisper and send text messages to other alumni at different tables. It was decadent. Dinner was amazing. It was fun.

At one point, we were joined by one of the Fellows in my class and two of her co-workers. Just so happens that she works at NY1 News and one of her guests was a fairly famous newscaster. We made quick friends. I passed her glasses of wine, we drank, we all had a great time at the table. And then we went to the bar with the rest of the alum afterwards.

After one beer, I had to go. Mostly because my car was going to be towed if I let it sit there after 11. So after circling the block and realizing there was no parking whatsoever, me and two alum decided to leave since we didn't feel like paying for parking only to go back into the bar that was hotter than Hades and drink more.

We had an adventure. One of them lived in Brooklyn, so in driving her home, we decided to stop by the apartment of a Coro alum and chum (as I say) that wasn't at the dinner. We hung out there for a while before dropping her off.

Then it was off to Astoria in Queens where I was staying with my friend for the evening. After some chatting, we went to bed. The next morning, I work up so I could move my car and head back. I got a call from my former AFSCME boss in Iowa. So we met for brunch. She kidnapped me. She roped me into going to the NYC labor happy hour that night. What can I say? She really pulled my arm.

Riiight.

So whilst waiting, I decided to run some errands. Went back to the old apartment. Stopped by the bank. Shopped at Modell's for Yankees gear for me and my coworkers for the big game in two weeks. Went to visit a grey area in my life (we all have them - and it was a good time). Went to the happy hour. Had free drinks and food. Met wonderful people. Promised to come back. Left for Delaware.

And in my unexpected extended stay, I realized, with a lot of sadness, just how much I really missed home. I think that's why I have only been going into the city for extremely short periods at a time since I moved (a few hours, a one-night deal) and stopped going altogether. It's too hard to go back. It's the life I left behind. I'm happy where I am, but there's a part of me wishing that I'll get sent back home soon. Because I'm now in that strange place where I know deep down in my heart that I'm going back because I know for a fact that I'm not anywhere near done with New York yet. But it's so strange to go back. Because I don't have a home there to go back to. It's so familiar and a part of me and yet I can't stay because I don't live there anymore. It's familiar and foreign at the same time. It's exciting and the same. It's fun and sad. And it's still strange to know that I lived there and had such an amazing three years there and I can't call it home. It's uplifiting. And it breaks my heart that I am not a part of it everyday. I don't know that I'll ever get over it until I move back. So I guess that's on my "To Do List." Honestly, I don't think it ever came off of it.

FENG SHUI
The Cardboard Box Collaborative's final show of the season is upon us. I wrote one of the monologues in the show. It's going to be fabulous.

As one of the CBC's Artistic Associates and it's resident design/scenic monkey, I have been spending a lot of time on all the stuff for the show in my copious amounts of spare time (i.e. sleep time). So if you can see it, please do. You can check out the link on the right for the show information.

WORK AND OTHER RUMINATIONS
Work has been busy. Which is a good thing. We've been gearing up for this big town hall we had tonight. It turned out to be a cozy crowd, but a crowd nonetheless and we had a great time. So that's good.

I'm still struggling with certain aspects of my work, but that's the challenge in all of it, which is what I love about the work.

I dunno if my mind is playing tricks on me or what, but I'm starting to get strange feelings about work. I love the union and I love AFSCME, there's just other things happening in my environment that I can't put my finger on. i won't go into much detail. I think it's mostly been stress, though it hasn't been usual stress. Either way, my intuition is getting strange signals. I'm going to remain cryptic about this. I have a feeling that my time in New York last week triggered it.

But rest assured that I'm doing exactly what I love and I'm having a good time doing it. I wouldn't change places for the world.

That's my fifteen day update. I have two weeks until the Yankees and three weeks until Castle Connection with my friends in the Outer Banks. So i'm going to love this month. And everything it brings me, good and bad.

And I'll try to check in more often. I promise.

This damn story will never go away and since I've been keeping you updated, I feel responsible for continuing to share the story. The Christ.

Worker: Finger found in chili severed in tailgate

SAN FRANCISCO, California (AP) -- The finger that a woman claimed she found in a bowl of Wendy's chili was severed in the tailgate of a truck during a work accident, an employee of an asphalt company said.

Pat Hogue, an estimator with a Las Vegas asphalt maintenance company, told the San Francisco Chronicle for a story in Sunday's editions that a man he was working with lost the tip of his finger on a job five months ago.

Both men were working with James Plascencia, the husband of Anna Ayala -- the Las Vegas woman who claimed she found the finger in a bowl of chili at a Wendy's restaurant in San Jose, Hogue told the paper.

Authorities believe the injured man gave the finger to Plascencia. Ayala is accused of trying to shake down the fast-food giant with a bogus tainted-food claim.

"I saw it on the news. I didn't know the lady at first was married to that James guy until after he was arrested," Hogue said in a telephone interview from his home in North Las Vegas.

Hogue and investigators have refused to identify the man with the severed finger, but police have said he's cooperating with authorities.

Ayala, 39, is in jail on suspicion of attempted grand theft. She claimed she bit into the finger on March 22 and filed a claim against the restaurant chain shortly afterward. The publicity resulted in a major loss of business for Wendy's.

Ayala later withdrew her claim as she came under scrutiny and investigators found at least 13 cases in which she has filed claims in her name or her children's.

Plascencia, 43, is being held in a Las Vegas jail on unrelated charges. He is awaiting extradition to California.

San Jose Police Chief Rob Davis said a tipster led investigators to the Nevada man with the missing finger. Investigators have refused to say how the finger was preserved or transported from Las Vegas to San Jose.

Police said more arrests were possible.

YET ANOTHER EDITION OF THINGS NOT TO DO WITH COWORKERS
Otherwise titled: Reason #1025A Why I Am the Biggest Wiener of All

So yes, it has been awhile and there has been much happening and I was going to blog about it all. But before I go back and do a retrospective, I want to give you all a quick insight as to why I suck. Well, at least last night.

So tempted with the idea of a night at the ballpark, I bit when my co-workers, Jackie and Sarah (both of DE United) decided last-minute to go to the Orioles/Twins game last night at Camden Yards. Turns out that Jackie's friend from the campaign trail is a big Twins fan and there were still seats available right next to him and his girlfriend. So what the hell, I love Camden Yards and I wasn't driving. So whoohoo! And we were off.

Apparently, when we stopped to get gas, I pulled all of the money out of the ATM so Jackie and Sarah couldn't take out the cash they wanted. In hindsight, this is strike one for me.

So we go to the game, everything's fine. Jackie and Sarah start early with the Miller Lites. I'm hanging back because I wanted to walk around a bit, check out the bats they were selling (I'll get to this in a little bit). Here's where it gets interesting. I left at the top of the second inning to go walking. I went to the bathroom, ordered a personalized bat, and waited in line behind these two girls buying beer who decided to have a forty minute conversation with each other while they very very slowly ordered, got out their money, paid, and took a long ass time to get their money back in their purses, all the while standing at the counter. Needless to say, this whole affair probably took closer to ten minutes, but I was annoyed. Finally, I get myself and Jackie a beer as requested and start heading back to the seats. The whole thing must have taken half an hour or even forty minutes.

We were just getting into the bottom of the second inning.

This was the longest game. EVER. And I wasn't the only one who started feeling it.

So after finishing beer one and alternating between the actual action on the field and checking the scores of the team I really care about (Los Yankees) on my cellphone, I realized we had finally just finished the second inning.

By this time, Sarah, Jackie, and I were making comments and lamenting and laughing over the fact we would probably die in the stadium before the game ended.

So we did what only three girls who love baseball do. What do you do when you're at a beautiful ballpark and you don't give a rat's ass about the two teams playing? (Jackie is a Braves fan, Sarah is a Cards fan, and I'm the Bronx Bomber girl)

You drink. As much as you can to make it go faster.

So around our second or third beers, we decide we need to move to a less populous area because we wanted to revel in our drinking and loudness. So we move closer to foul territory, out from under the stadium into the open air and much better seats.

It's around this time that I stopped paying attention to how much I was actually drinking. We left again to take a pee break and I'm pretty sure Jackie got another one - with my money - at this point, it really didn't matter.

What I do know is that at some point, I ended up with three beers in my hand and an extra one between Sarah and me.

I think at some point, I knocked over that extra one and as penance, had to chug it. More for the road.

So I suppose somewhere in there was strike two. I only say strike two lightly because if you could get out with five strikes, that's where I was. I'd say in there was strike one and a half.

After the game, I managed to remember to pick up my personalized bat (everyone needs a thinking bat - especially a personalized one - and yes, I use one all the time). At this point, we somehow manage to make it to the car and I think I threatened to use my bat a couple of times, but I didn't swing it. I promise.

I think.

Ends up that Sarah had to drive because she was quite sober. Unlike the Jackie and I.

I should also mention a few other things. I have been warning the two of them about my legendary tolerance. Most of you who read this blog are well aware of it. It takes me gallons to get drunk. And Jackie was saying at the beginning of the game, "Can I please get you drunk once?" I said, "If you're buying, then hell yes."

I just didn't think it would be the same night.

I should also mention that besides not really knowing how much I drank (five? six? seven?), that I had nothing in my stomach but a SLIM JIM. One of the few things I could buy at the gas station.

So we decided to go to the Papermoon Diner near where I lived for a summer. Somewhere in there, I drunk dialed Fabs to say hello. We were conversing just fine and Sarah and Jackie were yelling at me for directions (they didn't trust me) and in between telling them to trust me, I think I might have made reference to the bat in my possession again. I still didn't swing it, no worries.

We got there just fine (I told them to trust me) and went in. It was at this point that I drunk dialed Matanya Zarga and proceeded to have a totchy conversation. I was feeling sober again. Until I ate what were probably the best nachos EVER and some great ravoili. I was hoping the turkey powerhouse would do the trick and after eating half of it, we got back into the car.

It was at this point that I realized that the nachos weren't sitting well. Must have been the cheese and sour cream. The turkey powerhouse was just fine, it was doing it's job of soaking up the alcohol well. I give kudos to the sunflower bread for knowing it's role in my digestive tract last evening.

So I decided to lay down. I was giving directions as I laid in the seat. Sarah said she wanted to hear Eminem, which suited Jackie just fine since she hearts Eminem. So I was laying there, trying to just close my eyes and stop the world from spinning, which is very difficult to do in a moving vehicle. I should also mention that part of the reason for me lying down was because I felt like I was leaning forward when I was sitting upright which wasn't helping me at all.

I was getting the feeling that I had been in this situation before. My 21st birthday. Also in Baltimore. Why am I always wasted in that city?

So with Jackie singing Eminem and yelling at me intermittently to make sure I was awake, I was feeling them nachos in a ball in the pit of my stomach. No good can come out of that, no matter how hard you will it away.

We got to Jackie's in one piece and as soon as I sat up, I knew things were not okay. I was getting the dry mouth but the spitting, which is a sure-fire sign that something was going to give. I took my time, moved slowly. I grabbed my things and as we were walking to the car, I couldn't help it - it just went.

So Fab was correct. Strike three: projectile vomitting on the lawn of the State Director for Delaware United.

It wasn't really that bad - it was a turn the head, there it's over, let's go home kind of deals. It's always like that for me. I don't know why. Either way, it was the only thing holding me back from sobriety. Once it happened, it was like, "Ah! That was fantastic! I feel better!"

Seriously.

Sarah and I drove back to my heezy where we proceeded to then pass out. I woke up refreshed this morning.

This, friends, is why I am the totchest ever.

And now, lessons from last evening:
1. Baseball games where everyone is stranded on base for the first five innings go much faster when you drink.
2. However, moderation is key.
3. Just because it's the seventh inning and it's last call, it doesn't mean that you should buy the beer guy out of all the beer he is carrying.
4. Just because you spill half of a beer when getting up to cheer doesn't mean that you have to chug it if you still have three in your hand.
5. Drinking faster does not make the eighth inning go faster.
6. Buying a personalized baseball bat is not a good idea if you are wasted. I didn't use it, though. Let's remember that.
7. Cheese and sour cream are not good on a drunk stomach.
8. Eating something besides a slim jim and salad is a good rule of thumb if you go to a baseball game to watch teams you don't care about.
9. Offer to hose down your coworkers yard after an evening like last night.

and finally:

10. Do this with coworkers that are awesome because otherwise, work would be hell.

We're so doing this again next week. Ha.

Now the story you have all been waiting for...

There needs be no explanation as to why Volansky is the god of my idolatry - she's just that cool. But she became my celestial orbit after this past Monday because of the following story. I won't bastardize it with my words or anything, I shall let the Volansky simply speak for herself. She need not me to impose. All of this has made me come to a very important conclusion:

I want to be Volansky when I grow up.

Without further ado:

hello again, friends,

so, some of you asked for a report after the rove talk and so, i am here to happily comply.

in the interest of "full disclosure," the topic of the talk was "politics and a polarized press in the age of bush." all of your questions, while a TAD heavy on the "do you know you are satan?" theme, were truly extraordinary and will serve as the basis for a book i plan on writing sometime down the road. i also didn't get to ask them, as we ("the faculty") were encouraged to allow our students to ask the questions. i have a list of the questions, for those of you who are interested. i should also say that i was in full "cocktail party mode" and was NOT as heavy-hitting as i should/could have been. i finnagled this invite to investigate how those in power use it in social settings. so, beat me about the head if you'd like -- i was there to play.

before i begin the play-by-play, i have to tell you all that, when i returned home tonight, i was met by THREE emails from the SGA president-elect, who is a drama major and who i have in class. the topic of each email was "you rattled him, i don't know how you did it, but you rattled him." so, i have a small sense of accomplishment.

okay, so i was hanging around the cocktail party (sidebar: not enough food, but the "jumbo shrimp" was swell...) and THE MAN HIMSELF walked in. he was cool and cavalier and was with his female handler, as well as the dashing john harwood, our gracious host and son of the deeply respected (and dead) dick harwood, late late of the washington post. rove wandered around a bit, shook the hands of some serious white haired rich republicans and was introduced to a number of the students who were there. i was with one of my favs, a senior drama/poli sci major from india. my colleague introduced her to rove and she and another student talked a bit until a bossy, schmoozy white haired insinuated herself into the conversation, bringing along an underage daughter (student and drinking). i stood behind rove for a while and when i sensed a break in the conversation, the following ensued:

mv: (tapping "the architect" on the back) thank you so much for coming to chestertown, mr. rove. i have to say, it was all i could do to physically restrain myself from grabbing your ass.

rove: who are you?!

mv: i'm michele volansky. i'm an alum, a dramaturg and a faculty member here at washington's college.

rove: what do you teach (sidebar: he wouldn't let go of my hand...)?

mv: drama.

rove: well, that makes sense. you are a drama queen. (turning to handler) make sure she is ALWAYS in my line of sight.

mv: so, my question is this -- do you have an inside line on who will be elected pope? (rove then grins, wiggles his eyebrows and nods his head) well, i guess you won't tell the likes of me...

he then moves along, gesturing that i remain in his field of vision (i am NOT making any of this up), shakes some more hands and then comes back to me.

rove: i want to make sure i always know where you are. so, stay in front of me, will you?

there's some more schmoozing and i then i think that i should have him sign something, so i go over to him and say:

mv: will you sign my invite?

rove: for you, anything.

so, he signs my invite, which i have in my possession. it says, "you scare me. karl rove"

i say to him: i could sell this on ebay, you know.

rove: you should. it's a free country.

mv: well, it is NOW. what about later?

he is then hustled away.

the talk goes on. he lies about no child left behind, social security and the "oppositional press"

as i said before, i didn't ask a question.

but, he was sitting on the edge of the stage, i walked by and waved. he grabbed my hand again, shook it and said, "it was a great pleasure meeting you, michele. good luck with everything."

that's all i got.

if anyone wants to see the signature, let me know.

he is truly impressive. and completely and utterly satanic. he's so good.

those of us in this crowd have a LOT of work to do before we find someone as clever as he is to orchestrate my presidential campaign.

so, friends, get to work.

much love,

volansky

Now the real truth comes out. I'm totally suing this woman for making me hurl unnecessarily.

Woman who claimed to find finger in chili arrested

SAN FRANCISCO, California (AP) -- The woman who claimed she found a well-manicured finger in her bowl of Wendy's chili last month was arrested Thursday night in Las Vegas, police said.

Anna Ayala was taken into custody at her home, San Jose police spokesman Enrique Garcia said. He said police would not give any details until a news conference Friday afternoon. Las Vegas police also refused to comment.

The arrest is the latest twist in the bizarre case about how the 11/2-inch fingertip ended up in a bowl of fast-food chili.

Ayala told police she found the finger March 22 while eating at a Wendy's in San Jose. She said she intended to sue but relented, claiming the publicity was too emotionally taxing.

When police and health officials failed to find any missing digits among the workers involved in the restaurant's supply chain, suspicion fell on Ayala, whose story has become a late-night punch line.

Ayala has a litigious history. She has filed claims against several corporations, including a former employer and General Motors, though it is unclear from court records whether she received any money. She said she got $30,000 from El Pollo Loco after her 13-year-old daughter got sick at one of the chain's Las Vegas-area restaurants. El Pollo Loco officials say she did not get a dime.

Earlier Thursday, Ohio-based Wendy's International Inc. announced it had ended its internal investigation, saying it could find no credible link between the finger and the restaurant chain.

All the employees at the San Jose store were found to have all their fingers, and no suppliers reported any hand or finger injuries, the company said.

Sales have dropped at franchises in Northern California, forcing layoffs and reduced hours, the company said. Wendy's also has hired private investigators, set up a hot line for tips and offered a $100,000 reward for anyone who provides information leading to the finger's original owner.

Volansky is my celestial orbit and the god of my idolatry.

Three cheers to the woman to "rattled" Karl Rove on his visit to my alma mater.

I can give you specifics, but I shall wait until I have the green light.

Until then, know that Volansky is my hero. She rocks!

In the meantime, here are some quotes of the past weeks:

"I forget that I'm unforgettable."
-Jackie Lee, re: the gay waiter that hits on us everytime we walk into Buffalo Wild Wings in Bear, DE. He insists on remembering us. We insist he forgets.

"No, what is this?"
-Jackie, in reference to the chicken tenders at Camden Yards that was all breading, no chicken.
"$7.50?"
-Fabriana, in reply

It's been a crazy weekend to a hectic week.

Things are rather busy out here in the First State. Lots of stuff happening around work. So a little crazed.

This weekend was lots of fun, but I'm lots of tired. Big CBC, WC, and baseball weekend. Good to see everyone (and I mean everyone and their mother that traveled to C-town yesterday evening), awesome to work creatively with the CBC folks, and congrats to Dickert for the thesis being done! Can you believe that I've driven between Delaware and Maryland all weekend? I can barely fathom it myself and it all went by so fast. But hey, that's what happens when you work seven days a week and there's much going on in the evenings with all the things and folks you care about.

That's about it. Oh, and thanks to Baldwin for the Camden Yards tix. Because even when the Yankees lose, it's still a beautiful thing to watch. It was an absolutely gorgeous day and I got to spend it with two great people. That's the way to cap a rough week, go to the ballpark for a few hours with the State Director of the Coalition that you are working with and a best friend - on a completely gorgeous day - and you've got yourself an afternoon. Sure, the Yankees dropped a lot of games, but hell, it's only April and it is, what, the twelfth game? I'm not worried. At all. My boys know what to do. They just gotta work together and get it done. In the meantime, I'll enjoy catching a game when I can.

Doesn't hurt that we were right behind third base, close enough to see their faces. I sure did enjoy the sights of Jeter, A-Rod, Matsui, and Tino. Beautiful.

Now, it is resting time and I can be happy knowing I've had a good work week and an fantastic weekend. Who says you can't work and play hard at the SAME TIME? Huzzah.

Sorry, everyone, been ridiculously busy. But rest assured in knowing that as long as Dubya keeps on trying to screw us all and privatize everything including cooters, that I'm going to keep working hard to prevent it.

IN THE MEANTIME, more in the ever-evolving saga of the Wendy's chili finger:

New twist on finger found in chili
Officials doubt link between Wendy's discovery, leopard attack

LAS VEGAS, Nevada (AP) -- Authorities investigating the origin of a finger found in a California bowl of fast-food chili said Thursday they have uncovered no link to a Nevada leopard attack that cost a woman part of her index finger.

Nye County Sheriff Tony DeMeo said the chance of any connection is "diminishing." San Jose, California, Police Sgt. Nick Nuyo said investigators there were also skeptical.

Sandy Allman, 59, lost a 3/4-inch fingertip February 23 in the attack by a spotted leopard being kept at her home in rural Pahrump, about 60 miles west of Las Vegas.

Las Vegas resident Anna Ayala claimed she found a 1 1/2-inch fingertip on March 22 while eating at a Wendy's in San Jose.

"Obviously, if we have more of a finger than she lost, you might look at that on face value and say it's probably not the same," Nuyo said Thursday.

A lawyer for Allman had said that she wanted to participate in any DNA testing of the found finger. She said she last saw her fingertip packed in ice in a Las Vegas emergency room. Doctors told her it could not be reattached, and she does not know what happened to it after that, lawyer Philip Sheldon said.

The hospital said it cannot account for the missing fingertip.

Ayala was visiting relatives in San Jose and could not be reached for comment. Her attorney, Jeffrey Janoff, said Wednesday that she had decided not to pursue a lawsuit over the found finger because scrutiny by police and reporters had been "very difficult for her emotionally."

Court records show Ayala has previously made claims against corporations, including a former employer, General Motors and a fast-food restaurant.

Wendy's maintains the finger did not enter the food in its ingredients. It has offered a $50,000 reward in the case and was keeping open a hot line for tips, spokesman Denny Lynch said.

Okay. I saw some seriously funny stuff today.

For starters, I was in Philly for a spell earlier today. We protested Charles Schwab for their monetary involvement in the Bush Privatization proposal for Social Security. Nothing like a protest with lots of different unions, students, and random citizens off the street singing with signs and whistles. Ah! This is why I do this work. Love it.

This morning, I was in Wilmington for a breakfast. As we were leaving, we noticed a woman walking down the street with a bright green dress on. I tried so hard to get a picture with my camera, but I was too late. The thing is that she looked exactly like Mimi from the Drew Carrey Show. I am not lying. She had the makeup and everything - every detail. It was seriously funny shit.

Then, on the way to Philly, we were behind a truck with a bumper sticker that read: "A man and his truck. It's a beautiful thing." That could be classified under two headings in the file drawer: funny and sad. Both at the same time.

That's what you see when you get out of the office. Comedy.

Are you freakin' serious? I need to hurl...

MSNBC.com
Search continues for owner of missing digit
Wendy's fast-food restaurant patron found finger in bowl of chili

The Associated Press
Updated: 8:30 p.m. ET March 24, 2005

A woman bit into a partial finger served in a bowl of chili at a Wendy’s restaurant, leading authorities to a fingerprint database Thursday to determine who lost the digit.

The incident occurred Tuesday night at a San Jose Wendy’s restaurant and left the customer ill and distraught, said Joy Alexiou, a spokeswoman for the Santa Clara County Health Department.

“She was so emotionally upset once she found out what it was,” Alexiou said. “She was vomiting.”

Employees at the Wendy’s store were asked to show investigators their fingers after the Tuesday night incident. All employees’ digits were accounted for, officials said, adding that the well-cooked finger may have come from a food processing plant that supplies the company.

“All of our employees have ten digits,” said Denny Lynch, a spokesman for Wendy’s International Inc., based in Dublin, Ohio. He said there have been no reports to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration of injuries at any supplier of chili ingredients to Wendy’s.

“By law, you can’t hide that sort of stuff,” Lynch said. “All of our chili suppliers report no accidents.”

Investigators seized the remaining chili and closed the restaurant for a few hours late Tuesday.

Health officials said the fingertip was approximately 1½ inches long. They believe it belongs to a woman because of the long, manicured nail.

Alexiou said the woman, who asked officials not to identify her, is at minimal risk of contracting illnesses from the finger.

“It’s an extremely low chance because the chili was cooked at a very high temperature that would have killed anything in the finger,” Alexiou said. Still, she said health officials would ask the woman’s doctor to test her blood “to make sure nothing got passed to her.”

© 2005 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
URL: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7285110/

Okay.

I wanted to rant on and on about this, but I decided that I don't really need to since it has been everywhere. But you know what? I can't leave it alone because this is so crazy.

But for the Christ, can we just let Terri Schiavo alone? Can we? This whole issue didn't need to be as public as it is. It happens ALL OVER THE COUNTRY. The poor woman has become a pawn in a discussion that really comes down to one thing:

The sanctity of marraige.

Funny I say that, isn't it? You know what, I'm gonna rant. There's politics and emotions and religion involved. And it's time to take them out of the discussion. I mean, I'm not a lawyer, but apparently, people think I am. And maybe it's because I think like one, but let's look at the legal argument, shall we?

In a case where there is no living will, decisions of life and death lie with the person closest to the person in question. The order usually runs: spouse, child, and then parent.

So legally, her husband has the right to make this decision. The parents are claiming that Terri has had her due process rights and violation of religious freedoms trampled on. I understand this, but I fail to understand how this would hold up in a court of law if she cannot even be aware of possibility of her rights being trampled on.

More than twenty courts have sided with her husband. The Bush brothers have intervened twice before. Congress, er, the Republicans, passed emergency legislation a few days ago to push the issue to the Federal Courts.

The courts, to their credit, have upheld the law. The Supreme Court did something smart and didn't take the case, despite the enormous pressure for them to do so. I'm happy they stuck to Marbury v. Madison and exerted their understanding of the law. After all, it's not like the Court would have decided to pick up the case if the U.S. Court of Appeals wouldn't. It's just not done. Besides, the argument that she has been denied proper due process and religious freedom is very difficult to uphold considering the state that Terri Schiavo is in.

Now I'm going to talk politics because this is the part that fascinates me.

Did you know that if the Republicans in Congress had actually screwed up the legislation? The legislation says that the district court has to determine whether the case has merit first and then provide relief if the court decided that the case had merit. Because if Congress had ordered the feeding tube to be connected before deciding if the case had merit would render the whole legislation unconstitutional because it would be the Legislative branch exerting their power over the Judicial.

But you're not hearing that from the Republicans, are you?

No, you're hearing them lament "out of control courts" and that the "courts ignored their intent". Um. Not really. The courts did what the legislation said. First, they determined whether the case had merit. And they decided that the case did not have merit, thereby nulling the second provision of the legislation. Had the Republicans been smart, they would have figured out a way to reinsert the feeding tube while the courts worked it out. They could have done it. But they are too connected to the Churches and the religious right to see clearly enough.

You know, I actually read yesterday that Dic...er, Rick Santorum (R - Sen. Douchbag Nozzle from PA) said, "In this case, saving Terri Schiavo's life is more important than the sanctity of marraige."

I'm serious. He said that.

I'm not going to say that the Democrats are not anywhere in here. In my opinion, they have smartly avoided this issue. But part of me longs for one of them to step in and say, "We are all saddened by this situation, but we firmly believe that this issue is between the family and politics should be far removed from the situation."

But no one wants to even stick their neck out and say it because some Republican will attack them for politicizing the situation. Though the Bush Tag Team has been all over this issue, intervening and doing whatever they can to get the issue in the open.

And for the gajillionth time in a month, I have wondered why the Republicans are getting away with all of this. Because they would prefer skewing the argument to whatever benefits them best. Talk about flip-flopping. It's not okay for two men or two women to marry for the sanctity of marraige, but when a husband has the legal right to decide that the time has come for his ailing and barely cognizant wife, the sanctity of marraige is no longer valid. It's okay for us to save someone in a state like Terri Schiavo, but not okay for us to continue funding programs that provide relief for millions of low-income Americans, children, and families (I'm talking Medicaid amongst other things). I could go on forever here, but I'll stop there.

Who do they think they are kidding? You cannot have it both ways. You cannot even define when life begins and life ends. I mean, they want to preserve life and describe life beginning the minute you meet someone and may or may not decide to copulate with them. They say that if a machine can sustain your life, you should stay on it forever. Yet, they'll do everything they can to screw with you between those times - from the moment you're born to sustained living in a nursing home or hospice.

You know, I'm not going to lie. I'm not going to say that I think Terri Schiavo should live or die. Because that's not my decision to make. I feel incredible sadness at her situation. Not many people are aware, but my cousin in the Philippines suffered from a anuerism of the brain when he was just thirteen and he is still alive. The difference between my cousin and Terri Schiavo is the simple fact that he doesn't need a machine to determine his life and death. He may not be able to feed himself, but he doesn't have to rely on technology to keep him alive. He cannot really speak, either. But he communicates. He listens. He watches you. He plays with you. And while Terri can do that - according the the news - once again, he is not hooked up to a machine. I don't pray very often, but I pray for him. And he has shown improvement over the years. So I have a very good understanding of what her family and friends are going through. But god help me if I ever had to face anything like that with my spouse.

At some point, one has to say enough is enough. One has to know when it's time to go. I was reading earlier that her husband wants to have her cremated and buried near Philly in their hometown. Her family will probably fight that because they are going to argue that as a Roman Catholic, Terri wouldn't have wanted to be cremated.

I want them to cremate her and spread her ashes over the sea so that she can finally be free and no longer belong to anyone anymore.

No matter what, I hope that she may find peace. And that we will stop making politics out of it and point fingers. Because in the end, this is about Terri Schiavo. And she is being forgotten in the midst of all of this. And that is the saddest part of all.

Boy, we were loopy.

This is the quote of the week:

"I saw they had computers with that new biometric stuff, you know, where you have fingerprint identification? Well, I was thinking, what happens if something awful happens and you lose a finger? You wouldn't be able to sign into your computer - on top of not having a finger. That would be a really shitty day!"
-Lindsay "Drama Mama" Krieg

The quote of last week:

"I find it so funny that you are my reflection."
-Phil, who happens to be very tall and white to me, who happens to be very short and brown

And the quote of the week before:

"I say that you go kick some midget ass!"
-Liz "NBS" DelloRusso after I told her that I was legally allowed to participate in the Midget Olympics because the cut-off is 5', which I happen to be. Exactly. Hmm.

Only in New York.

So yesterday, I was in the city for Selection Day for the Coros when I was driving a carload of us back to Manhattan before heading back home.

When we stopped at Gramercy Park where Sarah (the Heezy) lived to wait for her boyfriend, I was watching the door of her apartment building.

Suddenly, some older gentleman wearing sweatpants and a light jacket comes out the front door, looks up and down the street, and then proceeds to unscrew the lightbulb from one of those "porch light" things used to light the doorway for the building inhabitants.

He didn't touch the other light, but just as quickly as he came out of the building, he went back in.

Incredulously, I turned to Heezy and asked, "Did you see that?"

She saw the last three seconds of it.

We must have laughed for at least three minutes before the guy was suddenly at the door again, but this time to close the door and look suspiciously out the glass door.

Um, yes. Someone saw you snag that lightbulb. If a lightbulb in your apartment goes out, you could have walked the twenty extra yards to the deli down the street where they sell them for that very reason!

The Heez and I got at least another five minutes of giggling amusement.

Sigh. Only in New York.

I miss it so much.

March means St. Patrick's Day. And that's fun. Not because I am Irish, which I am surely not - I don't want to confuse anyone who might be out there.

But it means that McDonalds has the Shamrock Shake. I had one for the first time in years today.

Yum.

That is all.

Being sick blows.

I somehow managed to get pretty sick this weekend. I mean, I had been feeling like I was getting sick and I knew it, but I didn't think it would hit me all at once.

I was in DC for training - and that was exhausting enough.

But on Friday at around 4, right when I finally got off the phone making work calls now that I've been hit with the work bat, I suddenly felt like a big piece of crap.

And I'm posting because something happened to me Friday night that has never happened to me before when I am sick.

So I did what only someone who thinks they have a head cold/flu/throat ache/ear infection does.

I slept.

A lot.

Drank lots of fluids, pumped myself with tylenol, grabbed the echinachea drops, hopped on the couch with a comforter, and passed out.

When I woke up, I was really sick. Fever. Chills. Sore throat. Starting to get the congestion.

So I then decided to take a shower. Get the germs off of me. It seemed to work.

When I was done, I headed back downstairs on the couch, presumably to sleep some more.

And then, for no apparent reason, I started crying.

Wha???

I was so freakin' sick that I started crying. Maybe it was out of frustration. But my head was so hot, my body was racked with chills, I started CRYING.

I think it was my head trying to release the heat from my body. It had to be. Because I wasn't emotional. But I was sitting there, tears streaming down my face, laughing at myself, and wondering what the hell was happening to me.

Anyone else have that happen before? Jesu-flips.

Been a while. Well, since I used to blog almost daily, it seems it.

I'm sure that the few folks I know that read this are probably annoyed. So, it seems time for me to post something new.

I will not regale you with the fantastically boring inner workings of my mind this week. Indeed, besides research and wringing my hands together over the status of my life so far, I think others would find it boring. And we're talking ho-hum boring.

So today, I wish to pass along a few thoughts that have been plaguing me whenever I turn on the news this week.

1. BTK. Freakin' creepy. Serial killers tend to have that affect. It's always the quiet ones. Church-going, family-man, seems to live by the rules guy. But crazy as a shit house rat. Every time I get a feeling of security, they find someone like this. The Christ.

2. Weather. Again, the snow issue is huge here. As a girl who loves snow, I would like to officially announce an amendment to my love of snow - I love snow in places where they know what to do with it. Out here, they have no idea. So I do not heart snow here.

3. The Oscars. It's about time they started to represent the diversity of the country. Chris Rock might be one of the few comedians who can get away with some of the things he says because we expect him to do it. Kudos to the Academy for putting him right up front. Jamie Foxx absolutely deserved the golden guy because he is mindblowingly fantastic as Ray Charles. Morgan Freeman finally got the award he deserved, and I can't believe that Annette Benning and Martin Scorsese got screwed again. Now that I know what an ass Leonardo is, er, Leonard as Adam likes to call him - I can't stand watching him. Cate Blanchett is awesome and I'm just pissed that "Finding Neverland" got nothing. They and "Sideways" (so I'm told - I still need to see it) got robbed. ROBBED.

4. I still don't get republicans. At all.

5. Social security is NOT in a crisis. Yet. But for chrissake, will some news source please do an independant report on social security so that people aren't swayed by words like, "Individual/Personal Accounts"? I'd like to think that you can only dupe the country once, but it looks like Bush is banking his place in history on it. All I think about when I see him on the news is that whole bit of banter between Michael Douglas and Michael J. Fox in "The American President" -"Lewis, we've had Presidents who were beloved, who couldn't find a coherent sentence with two hands and a flashlight. People don't drink the sand because they're thirsty, Lewis. They drink it because they don't know the difference." Is that what we've become? I fear it every day.

6. I actually feel for Paris Hilton over this hacked cellphone thing. Because honestly, can anyone really be mad at her for having all of that information in her cellphone? Honestly? Take out your cellphone, folks. Check that address book 'o yours. Do you have it written somewhere else? Do you have the numbers committed to memory? Yeah. Thought so. I mean, I purposely got a palm pilot that wasn't a cellphone because if i lost it, I would be screwed. I figure that if something happens where I lose one, I still have the other. So should celebrities be surprised that she had all of that information on her sidekick? I think not. The lesson here is that he/she who lives in glass houses shouldn't give their personal email or number to Paris Hilton. Or something like that. Ridiculous.

7. I DON'T CARE ABOUT JEN AND BRAD. Much. Leave them alone, for crying out loud. It's hard enough to deal with a divorce.

AND FINALLY...

8. Jacko. You know, I think the real tragedy of the Michael Jackson case is that no member of the current generation will remember him for his music. They'll never know how cool it was growing up, imitating the moonwalk, wearing the red leather jacket with the glove, hiding every time "Thriller" came on MTV - when MTV used to play videos, and hope and pray that they would show "Smooth Criminal" again. Remember when "Black or White" came out and everyone was talking about the end of the video when the people morphed into each other? I mean, he had some real musical genius there. "Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough", "Man in the Mirror", "I Just Can't Stop Loving You" - these were songs our generation grew up with. Until the weirder Jacko emerged and he decided to continue with his plastic surgery, become whiter by the years, marry Lisa Marie, insist that the white-skinned children with blonde hair were his, call his child "Blanket", dangle a baby from a balcony, and turn into the freak he probably was afraid of. Someday they will make a film about Michael Jackson around the lines of "The Aviator" and we will revel in this man's downfall. But in the meantime, I plan on just taking out HIStory and listening.

Yeah. Does anyone else feel like they're in the twilight zone? I sure as hell do. Though I can't really tell if that's because of the news or Delaware. But whatever.

Okay.

I come from the land of snow. Anyone who is from Upstate New York will concur: four inches of snow is practically light rain. Anyone from FMHS will probably nod and tell you that a WALL of snow, ice, and hail would probably still mean that we had to go to school - and no hope of a snow day except to pray for an hour or two delay.

Now I understand that parts of this country just aren't equipped to handle snow. And I'm sure folks who actually voted for George W. Bush will say that snow in Alabama is a freak coincidence and that global warming just doesn't exist.

But for people in the northeast in the mid-Atlantic region, we should at least have some sort of game plan, right?

RIGHT?!!

All of us well versed in what winter actually means would laugh when they would put sand on the snow at my college. Try salt. It works better. But we understood that in places that are older and sporting the ever-popular federalist architecture of brick, brick, and more brick, that sand was essential to upkeep on the bricks.

But explain to me how sand would be more effective on pavement than on brick.

The whole state is covered in sand. Then again, Delaware uses cement primarily for roads, but that's a whole other can of worms.

What's even more laughable is how they move the snow around. When that foot or so fell on Delaware, it looked like they strapped shovels to trucks going 15 down my street. Even in New York City, they got the trash trucks to get the industrial shovels and clear that shit. You'd think that in a place where there are more trucks than people that they might have figured that out.

I was one of two people in the office today, presumably because of the snow. I could have left early. I didn't. I actually got a good amount done today. It wasn't so annoying. Until I left the office to go to the mall to return my guitar cable for my ibook, peruse the new mac minis, and take a moment to wish that I had more money to buy the kind of equipment that I need to write the music for the CBC's upcoming show.

That's another story.

Needless to say, I've come home slightly pissed. But let me tell you why.

1. Most people used to snow will tell you - when you scrape the snow off of your car, it isn't just about the windows. Hit the lights, hit the tires, and for godssake, hit the roof of your car! I can't tell you how annoying it is to dodge chunks of wet snow from the car in front of me or not to be able to tell that the car in front is going to make a right hand or left hand turn.

2. If you are in a smaller car and you have problems with sliding, throw the car in a lower gear. The tire rotation slows down and you can get a better grip on the road. Sure, it takes up a little more gas, but you'll get wherever you're going in one piece. I promise.

3. If you are afraid of snow, don't stay in the left lane and go 25. It's freakin' annoying as shit.

4. If you aren't afraid of snow and the guy in front of me is going 25, don't tailgate me half an inch away from my car and flash the high beams. You can tell that there's a car in front of me because I've moved slightly to the right so that you can see them. And you know I can't get into the right hand lane to let you through because there's people going 20 there.

5. Shoveling your walkway is fine. Putting the excess snow into my freshly shoveled driveway isn't. Screw you.

As you can tell, I'm slightly peeved. I understand people's concerns, but c'mon. If you can't handle the snow, don't go out.

Finding myself back from the sunny land of Philadelphia this morning, I wish to talk about...

Public Restrooms.

This isn't because I came from Philly today after spending an evening assisting the Cardboard Box Collaborative in their newest show, Now Serving - which anyone in the Philly area really must go and see. It's actually held over from my weekend in NYC this past weekend.

Well, what I really wish to talk about is something more specific about public restrooms.

For starters, if you are lucky enough to go to a nice, decent restroom, chances are that you will encounter those toilet seat covers.

As the daughter of an infection control nurse, I can tell you scientifically and without a doubt that these are a very important and good invention.

Now I've found that if you are loitering around reststops on the highway or turnpike, these come very much in handy. At the same time, however, the thing holding them to the wall is cheap as hell. So you go ahead and pull on one to use it and the thing rips halfway in your hand. A little annoying, you go ahead and pull on another one...which rips in your hand. After about four tries, you're pretty damn near frustrated, and depending on your situation, perhaps edgy as hell because you need to use the toilet. Finally, you slowly pull out one and the other halves that have ripped off in your hand stream out at you like candy out of a pinata.

This isn't the only frustrating thing.

Then you go to put it on the seat. You carefully rip the center out of the rest of the cover, like you do - and so that you don't have the uncomfortable situation where you pee on yourself - and place it gently on the seat. By the time you undo your pants and go to sit down, the weight of the center dropping to the toilet water has pulled the back of the seat cover into the toilet and is slowly beginning to drag the rest of the cover into the toilet with it.

So you grab another one - which proceeds to rip in your hand. So you go through the whole process again...

...and again.

By the time you finally get it to stay on the toilet, you've got seven toilet covers on the seat, twelve ripped up in the toilet so that you can't see the water in the bowl anymore, and you've lost the urge to use the toilet.

Is anyone else slightly frustrated or at least mildly amused by this situation? I find it annoying as hell, but really funny now that I think about it. I mean, if you're afraid of germs (thanks, mom) like I am, toilet covers serve a very important function. If they could figure out a way to design it so that you only have to use one...

I think that I have figured out a possible way for Mike Bloomberg to win re-election in 2005. And we should be cheering this issue on.

Bear with me here.

Let's look at some facts about NYC, shall we?

1. NYC is overwhelmingly Democrat. 5-1 Democrat to Republican ratio in the state. That's ridiculous. Well, not for me, 'cause I'm a Democrat. But still, that's pretty decent odds, right? Don't ask me why we have a Republican Governor, I'll explain why we have a Republican Mayor shortly.

2. These Democrats aren't typically moderate. No, we're the in-your-face liberals. C'mon. You don't live on an 24 square mile island or adjoining boroughs with more than 8 million people from all over the world, 7 million rats, and 10 million pigeons without being slightly liberal.

3. Mike Bloomberg isn't really a Republican. For those not joining in from the Apple, Hizzoner (the mayor) switched parties to avoid running in the crowded Democratic field in 2001. He was one of the major donors to Gore/Lieberman in 2000 and many Republicans and conservatives speak of him with a bit of snide.

4. For those of you living under a rock, Bloomie is a BILLIONAIRE. The man spent $78 million on his mayoral campaign - out of his own pocket. For a liberal responsible donkey like me, I appreciated the fact that he didn't run with anyone in his pocket. In fact, that was one of his campaign "things" - he wasn't a normal politician, he didn't have special interests, only the city mattered to him. For a city facing some serious problems in 2001, including a spiraling budget gap, the businessman was a good choice - especially if you weren't particularly fond of Mark Green (the Democratic Mayoral candidate in 2001).

These are just the facts I wish to highlight in this argument.

Many of you may not be aware that New York City is on the verge of being the next "battleground", if you will, in the fight for gay marriage. Click on that link. Check it out. Basically, a Manhattan judge ruled that it was unconstitutional for the state to forbid gays from marrying - that the state constitution did not specify marriage, therefore, no one could bar anyone from marrying anyone.

Side note: does that mean I could marry my pinkie? I'm just curious.

Back at the ranch...

Now Mr. Mayor, as he has been apt to do - much to the chagrin of his campaign staff (trust me, I was there), has made a contradiction of himself. He told reporters that he personally believed that gays should be given the same freedoms as heterosexuals and that government should not create laws to forbid people to marry, no matter who was marrying whom. Yet, he also said later that he would appeal the judges' decision to the Court of Appeals, the highest court in the State.

Um. I don't get it.

Well, I sort of do. His argument, which starts to make a little bit of sense, is that he wants to force the state to make a decision "so that people will have a right once and for all to know where they stand." He does not want the situation they had in San Fransisco where the mayor married all of those gay couples only to have it overturned months later.

Sure, he's worried about his re-election. And he's probably feeling some heat from his Republican friends.

But I wish to call attention to those facts I listed above.

1. New Yorkers may be mostly democrats, but if given the right reasons to re-elect a Republican, they will do it. Case in point: Giulani. If he wants to win re-election, he has a better chance of siding with the 5-1 Democrats.

2. The chances of his favorable rating going up if he stands up for civil rights will most likely go upwards fast. Remember the liberal factor here.

3. He's not really a Republican. Sure, he's raised a lot of money for them, but he has always said that it isn't about party or politics, it's about doing what's morally right. Dante said it best: "The hottest places in hell are reserved for those, who in times of great moral crisis, retain their neutrality." If it wasn't for people standing up for morals, we would still have slavery, segregation, male-only voting, and awful events like the Holocaust. I'm not taking this too far - when some people have rights and other don't share the same rights, then there will always be oppression.

4. Because he will self-finance his campaign again, what difference does it make if he pisses some people off? Sure, there will be plenty of Catholics and religious folks calling for his head, but those ladies in the Upper East Side will, at best, stay home on election day, leaving the same situation as 2001 where he was elected because Mark Green lost. That's probably important to remember. He won because Mark Green and the Dems made a mistake that upset a lot of party members (present company included) that they stayed at home on November 2nd. This could work in his favor if he has a strong challenger, which is likely. But the democratic challengers are also supporting gay marriage.

Does this make sense? Isn't it kind of obvious? I think so.

If he wants to avoid the political mess that will begin to ensue over his contradiction of word and deed, the other, less controversial method might also work to gain favor - and yes, I'm talking about Civil Unions.

Sure, it's not marriage, but at least it's better. With civil unions, gay couples can at least be acknowledged. NYC would never have that horrible consequence where gay 9/11 survivors who could not collect the benefits of their lost loved ones because they were gay. While a lot of people might be against gay marriage, they aren't against gays having rights - I'm talking about New York here, people. I'm fully aware of those folks who don't want gays to have any rights at all.

I mean, come on. Go with your conscience, Mayor. Go with your morals. Go with your instinct. People may never believe what you say, but they'll always believe what you do. You can't be for people having rights and then fight against them having those rights. Shit or get off the pot.

And not only will you be making a huge statement for civil rights, mark a place for yourself in the history books, you just might keep your job.

"Never doubt that a small, group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." -Margaret Mead

It's official. I'm staying in Delaware.

I'll be working on the Social Security issue here in the good 'ol First State. I went to the Council Office today to get acquainted. It's interesting. And less than 5 minutes away from my house.

Looks like I'll be a Delaware-ian until around June when I'll be shipped off to the Garden State to work on the governor's race.

I finally feel like I have a sense of purpose. I start on Monday. Jeez, I am just that bored.

In the meantime, I'll be busy getting the house ready. Digital cable, high-speed internet, and regular trash pick up - here I come! I'm excited.

At the same time, I'm bummed. Not only will Megan be in Oklahoma City, I don't get an OK adventure. But it's okay. At least I know what I'll be doing. It'll be a new challenge, so I'll enjoy it.

But I gotta run and figure out all the details - and unpack my clothes - and continue cleaning so I can finally stop working on the house.

In other news, did anyone see that Prince Charles will be marrying Camilla Parker-Bowles in April? Any thoughts? I'm not sure what I think yet.

Coming soon - a blog that I've been meaning to post on how Mike Bloomberg could win re-election in NYC. And it comes down to the rainbow pages. Go figure. That'll come soon, I promise.

WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET AN ANSWER?!!?!?!?!?!

So I might be staying here in the armpit of the East Coast, or I might be heading for the land north of Texas. Still don't know. And I better find out soon.

BECAUSE I'LL GO LOCO. I will.

Mulling.

Karma exists, people. This is karma for making light of Jessica, both recently and in Seattle. Gotta be.

And in the meantime, I don't know why my comments aren't working. I hope they fix it soon so I can see what Jill hast written.

Back to unpacking now that I have a decision to make quickly. Er, SOON-er, if you will.

Hahahahaha. I'm so funny.

I'm intentially being vague. But because I'm sorting it out. But if you look above under the blog title, you'll get the drift...

Lordy, I was on quite an unwieldy rant last evening. That's okay. I still feel very strongly about the issue. But that's not the point of today's post.

Unemployment is very becoming for my blogger. As you can tell.

So here's a funny story I wanted to share. Because it's just that good.

Lemme preface this. Many of you are aware of my friends, but this story involves me, Fabs, and our other friend, Vicki.

There's an awesome story from the Fabs and Vicki NYU years that involves Vicki getting ridiculously wasted on the last day of class with some of her film classmates. Fabs was basically called in to assist in the drunkenness that was Vicks. After trying to feed her Ramen and ultimately eating it herself, Fabs was having a conversation with the other folks in the room as Vicki, wrapped to her neck in a blanket, was starting to fall over - again - and Fabs caught Vicki trying to keep herself upright by biting, since it was the only thing not under a blanket, and more likely - that she could control.

Maybe you have to hear that story in person. Either way, brilliant.

So Fabs and I go to see "National Treasure", which is so good, I've seen it thrice. Yes. Thrice. I don't care what you think. I am a big American history geek, so I've seen it with friends who want to see it and since I can hardly say no to a movie I like, I've seen it thrice.

Anyhoo, the guy playing Riley in the movie is the guy who got Vicki wasted on that last day of classes.

Fabs turns to me and says excitedly (we were the only two in the theatre at that moment in time), "That's the dude that got Vicki wasted! He was the retarded kid in "Gigli" and everytime I see him, I say to myself, 'That's the dude that got Vicki wasted!'"

We laughed. Watched the movie. Had a great time.

It wasn't until we were driving to D.C. the next day that I made a realization.

I turned to Fabs somewhere on 95 between Baltimore and DC and interrupted her incredulously.

"Wait! You've actually seen 'Gigli'?!!?"

After she peed her pants, I asked her if it was as bad as they said. She said a quick, "Yeah" and continued with the rest of the story she was telling before I so rudely interrupted her.

I would actually see "Eight Legged Freaks" or "Children of the Corn III: Urban Harvest" before I saw "Gigli".

But the dood who got our friend drunk is in it.

And that is my story. No, you will not receive your ten cents back.

Ladies and Gentleman, Boys and Girls, step right up for your favorite time of the week and mine:

SOAPBOX TIME!

Okay. I can't help it. I saw it on CNN today when I was doing my daily news digest and I have to say something about it.

"Medicare to cover Viagra".

It's just too good for me to pass up. I mean, according to the President and the Republicans in office, health care is fine, but we just have to shift the burden away from the employers and back onto the employees and give citizens a "real choice" about how to handle their health care....

...by making them pay for everything. But that is another issue for another time.

Okay.

I should mention that the sub heading of the article read: "In medically needed cases."

Yeah. Could they maybe define that a little more? I mean, how do you decide who is a medical need and who isn't? Arent' these just men with Erectile Dysfunction as caused by old age? So is it really weeding it out to say "in medically needed cases"?

I'm just warming up.

In all honesty, is it really necessary for an older gentleman to have an erection? I mean, compared to things such as, I don't know, a cure for cancer? Stem cell research? Remedy for AIDS? Yes, that seems right. Let's just put those things aside so that men can have sex after they lose the ability to "hold an erection on the high holy days" (Kudos to J. Larson).

Bob Dole himself was on TV a few years back telling us how important a thing it was for them to have discovered and produced Viagra.

I just threw up a little bit thinking about that commercial. I really didn't want to know anything at all about Bob Dole's sex life. Eww. I'm thinking about it again. Shit. I did it again.

Okay. Here's why I'm pissed: I'm not a man. I don't have a penis.

And because of it, I can't get birth control on Medicaid. None of us women can. Because in today's world, insurance and Medicaid only covers the ability of men to have an erection no matter what age they are. But for us ladies, who are given the ability to give life, who already make less money than a man in the workplace, who are forced to make a decision between career and child-raising - cannot get birth control covered.

And why? Freedom of Religion. Not a bad thing, at all. Yet, because of religious fundamentalists (yes, I'm using that term when talking about Evangelicals, Christians, and Catholics - of which I was raised**), women cannot get birth control covered by insurance because basically, churches have effectively lobbied against it from happening. I have been told that legislators are too afraid to push it for fear that they'll get bitchslapped by a church. Or because they believe they are a part of the holy trinity, I don't know.

Look, I was raised Catholic. I was baptized. I am well aware of the bible and other religions. But if churches are going to play this game, if they are going to hand out anti-choice, anti-gay literature, if priests and reverends are going to continue (or begin) endorsing candidates from the pulpit because of their view on choice and/or marriage, if churches are going to raise money for anti-choice legislation and Constitutional amendments, then the churches, no matter what their denomonation, must be forced to register as lobbyists and pay taxes. I'm sorry. Well, no I'm not. Anyone or entity that choses to play politics, must abide by the rules. If women cannot have their birth control covered by insurance because of religious issues, then isn't it only fair that everyone be forced to play by the rules?

Of course, only the Democratic Women's Caucus is even discussing this up there. No one else wants to touch this. I don't even know if anyone is talking about it anymore at all, except Hillary Clinton. Whom I know is a favorite of the GOP.

Ladies, if you aren't pissed by now, here's a few other things that'll be sure to get a bee in your bonnet:

There was word around Capitol Hill with all of this Social Security talk (which is really another soapbox for another day) that Republicans and the Bush Administration have toyed with an idea for adjusted benefits based on gender - since women tend to outlive men. Translation: Women will have less Social Security benefits because they are alive for a longer period of time? I swear to god, this was just floated a few weeks ago.

And then there's the Supreme Court issue. We should all be worried. If President God-talks-only-to-me gets to put up to four Justices on the bench, we're screwed to holy hell. It's bad enough we are teetering on Roe v. Wade, we're still dealing with Bush's Global Gag Rule* (see below), the Partial Birth Abortion Legislation that has no provisions for the health of women, and now Ralph Reed practically has his own office in the West Wing.

I thought we had come so far. The conservative right becomes the mainstream and now it's not just gays and Middle Easterners hiding from the the angry mob. All of us. Women, minorities, immigrants. It's feels like open season. What's the quote? "The price of freedom is eternal vigilance." Of course, President Cowboy is too busy jamming freedom down other throats. Too bad he isn't spreading it on the homefront. I also blame John "I lost my last election to a dead guy" Ashcroft.

Every part of me wishes badly that the Democrats get their shit together soon. Part of me very badly wishes the Republicans were of the Teddy Roosevelt kind so that I can feel somewhat safe. But no, instead we've got bible-thumping, homophobic, misogynistic, good 'ol boys in the majority again. Way too "pale and male" up there.

Hmmm. I wonder why Medicaid, a federal program in the hands of those older white men in Washington, would cover Viagra...

Clearly a rhetorical question.

And quite clearly, I'm agitated by it. I've had all day to stew and think about it. Argh.

*From the Center for Reproductive Rights: "The global gag rule undermines the right to freedom of speech—a universal human right, highly valued and protected in the United States. This policy violates freedom of expression by preventing overseas reproductive health and advocacy organizations from speaking out and lobbying their own governments on their own countries’ abortion laws or policies. The global gag rule censors health-care professionals in overseas family planning clinics, depriving them of the ability to provide full and accurate information to their patients. It prohibits foreign NGOs involved in advocacy and/or health service provision from communicating with their governments in order to decriminalize or improve the safety of and access to abortion, and prohibits public education campaigns about abortion. The global gag rule is the epitome of viewpoint-based discrimination, because it does not constrain organizations working to oppose legal, safe and accessible abortion. The global gag rule also undermines the free speech rights of human rights advocates."

**These comments are not meant in anger. They are meant as a point for discussion and reference. And they are meant in frustration of what is happening to society. Anyone wishing to send concerns and hate-mail to the author are urged to do so at: Kiss my Naturally Brown Ass Productions, Washington Square Arch, TOTCHLAND, New York 10012.

In the interest of being pithy, I have a simple thought this evening:

Unpacking all of my stuff just to pack it all again within an hour or two makes me feel stupid. And crazy at the same time.

'Nuff said.

I feel like I'm slowly going insane.

I have yet to know when or where I'll be assigned, and this fact is slowly driving me insane.

Don't get me crazy. I love vacation time. And it's really not that bad, at least I know I have a job.

But the uncertainty of knowing is driving me insane. And only because I have become totally complacent by not knowing when or where I will be going.

Translation: I have a lot of shit to do and I have no idea how long I've got to do it.

I'm still unpacking and cleaning. Plus, I'm packing bags for the eventual "You're going here on this day" call. This house has so much crap in it and now I find out that the Salvation Army doesn't pick up, so I have to drop off all of the shit at their warehouse, which will most likely take me an entire afternoon if not a majority of my day. Not neat.

And really, it's just that I can't make plans. I don't know if I can go back to Syracuse to visit my home. Don't know if I can go to Philly to visit friends. Don't know if I can go to NYC to feel saddened by my departure. I did steal away to DC with Fabs, and while it was awesome seeing Michael and Foyelicious, I felt like the back of my mind was nagging the front of it to remind me how much work I have to do.

So after I drop Fabs off at the train tonight, I have decided to put my ass in major hauling mode. I want to finish off the boxes and cleaing by Wednesday. Then, I can realy relax until I leave.

I just want my mind back. Or something that makes me feel like I'm being, I dunno, a more productive part of society.

All of this to really just say that unemployment sucks.

I've been listening to a lot of classical music lately.

For a month, So Young and I turned on the radio when we were remodeling the house. P.S. when I say remodeling, I mean taking down old tacky wallpaper and painting the drywall as well as some much-needed weeding, cleaning, and tidying up.

Anyhoo.

In the month I turned on the radio, while I enjoy the small satisfaction some of the music brings in my being able to sing along to a jangle or two, I remembered why I turned it off for so long in the first place. For starters, I think I heard the same Top 40 songs over and over again at least 5 times in a three hour period. And Jesus, after a while, it all starts to sound the same.

What happened to music?

It's crap now. There are a few musicians who play on the radio (constantly) that do stand out, but seriously, I wonder where it's all going.

Heather made me think of this. She listed her favorite cds on her blog recently (check out the link on the right) and she has some fabulous taste in music. And so I started thinking what I tend to turn to a lot lately.

Sure, I go through phases. There's the Ani DiFranco phase where I just have her on a loop for about a month or so. Dar is intermixed in there with the Indigo Girls. Perhaps those are my "chick" moments, though I hate categorizing it like that.

Of course, there's the Dave phase where I have to listen to every DMB cd I own at least once or thrice - maybe six times a year.

There's the oldies stretch where I listen to Elvis and the Beatles and Simon and Garfunkel like my life depended on it.

There's the hippie stretch where I put on Phish and the Dead and even twirl around to some Doors, though I wouldn't normally put them there.

There's the ocassional Shake Yo Ass phase where I want dance music and rap. Those are few and far between - though I find I need them on long car drives to break it up.

And there's the Garth and Dixie Chicks "gettin back to my college days" on those moments I feel sentimental or need a good holler.

But when I need to ponder, when I need something to refresh my palatte, musically, if you will, I turn to the great wisemen of all time: Beethoven, Mozart, Vivaldi, and Brahms.

I can't explain it. Well, I know that my the first thing I ever loved in this world that wasn't my family was music. It's hard for me to place my first memory but the first one that stands out is being introduced to my violin at the tender age of 3. The world of music was, and still is, a haven to me. So I suppose it makes sense that I go back to it peridically.

I miss playing in a band. I miss playing in an orchestra even more. I was so excited when I started playing with the Lawyer's Orchestra. It was as if I had found my very first friend all over again. Discovered it, actually.

So my respite from the crap coming out of the radio has been to dust off the old tapes and cds and give 'em a spin. I find it so good for my soul.

I've had to explain to many before that it is very difficult for me to work while I listen to classical music. Unlike others who prefer to have it on while they work, if I have played it, I get caught up in it. I find myself pausing to listen more than I would if something else were on. I have this incessant need to break it all apart, hear each note and instrument individually and then listen to it as a whole. And since I need time to do that, since my life seems to be incessant with motion, it's a good thing that I am listening to my old friends again. Because it means that I have slowed down, albeit temporarily. I can wax brilliant about the music, but I think I'll just let it speak for myself.

Music, I have found, is a wonderful gift to give and share. Many who know me and my musical history ask me what is good classical music to listen to - especially if they are just turning their ears to it for the first time.

So for those of you out there that are curious about classical but never got into it and even for those of you who are seasoned enough to know who Paganini and Albinoni are, here is a list for you to peruse. That is, if anyone besides four people I know read this.

Here goes. I've made this an abbreviated list, we could go on for days here otherwise. So it's a starting list, starting with the greatest.

Keeza's Top Ten Classical Picks for the Discerning Ear (and some composers have two , deal with it):

1. BEETHOVEN - SEVENTH SYMPHONY, SECOND MOVEMENT. He is my favorite and I wouldn't be offsides if I told you I thought he was God. Sure, everyone knows the famous notes of the 5th Symphony and the 9th. But how many actually have taken the time to listen to this particular movement of his symphonies? I swear to you, this is a masterpiece. Absolutely haunting and beautiful. Actually, ANYTHING by Beethoven is alright and genius to me - but if I had to pick a favorite, this is it. PIANO CONCERTO #1 is brilliant, too.

2. BACH - CELLO SUITE #1 IN G MAJOR & AIR ON A G STRING. You've heard them before. I'm actually not a big Bach fan since I find him repetitive and boring, though I appreciate what he did for music. But these two are genius. Brilliant.

3. BORODIN - POLOVITSIAN DANCES. You - or your parents - might recall "Stranger in Paradise". The theme is from here.

4. RIMSKY KORSAKOV - CAPRICCIO ESPAGNOL. Fierce.

5. DVORAK - NEW WORLD SYMPHONY & "THE AMERICAN" QUARTET. Dvorak came from Czechoslovakia to the United States in the 1800's and is the first of the European greats to bring "American" music to the old world. But this is fantastic music, nonetheless.

6. BERNSTEIN - OVERTURE TO CANDIDE. Bernstein was the man. This is awesome.

7. HOLST - ST. PAUL'S SUITE. Chamber music at it's finest.

8. COPLAND - RODEO. Beef, it's what's for dinner. Or fabulous music.

9. STRAVINSKY - THE FIREBIRD SUITE. Bercuse and Finale. That's all I have to say. It will blow you away.

10. TCHAIKOVSKY - ROMEO AND JULIET. Tchaikovsky was a mad genius and we are all the better for it. You will recognize the "love"theme. This is brilliance at it's best.

Perhaps soon I will scribe my favorite violin solos of all time, but for now, let's deal with this. I realize that Vivialdi was left out, but I'll get him next round.

When I need comfort music, I reach for this. Explore this world if you can. It's the music that has lasted generations. It is the base of music today. You might not be fully aware of how, but this was the heartbeat of music. I hope you will at least listen to one thing on this list. Trust me, you'll enjoy it. Hell, go for all 10. I've got copies of 'em all, if you wanna hear. You'll be happy you did.

AND, you'd get some serious culture. Who can go wrong with that?

Jesus, what a weekend. The Christ, what a week.

All in all, it wasn't that bad. But as I sit here, pontificating, I'm starting to wonder if it could get any worse.

No idea yet about the job. NOT neat.

No idea yet about where I'll be assigned to until November. ANNOYINGLY Not neat.

Dumbass was reelected, meaning that he was inaugurated - for the second time - last week. FREAKISHLY not neat.

Dumbass says that the only way to ensure American freedom is to ensure freedumb around the globe. With whom, I ask? Aren't we already tapped? And which countries sovreignty are we going to trample on now? Ah, the return of conservative theory in international politics. ABSOLUTELY not neat.

Mother nature douched us with an amazing amount of snow and wind. Would be neat if I was anywhere where they knew how to take care of snow, but since I was in Delaware, it sucked chunks. Would have loved very much to go skiing this weekend. BUTT ASS COLD not neat.

Johnny Carson died. TOTALLY not neat.

The Washington Post just found out that there was a clandestine organization started after 9/11 at the Pentagon under Donald Rumsfeld's order. Congerss just found out about it. Too much power in the hands of one man sounds suspiciously like Washington College all over again. Oh wait, that was run by Republicans that had no prior experience in that given field, too. And who is paying the bills for an organization with that much power? Yeah. SO VERY not neat.

It's very dry here. ASHY SKIN not neat.

I'm still cleaning and fixing up the house. Alone. SCARY BIG HOUSE not neat.

I think I'm going crazy. Perhaps this is the neatest thing of all.

But seriously. It wasn't a bad week. Honest. Just a bunch of things that I can't control. Nothing new.

Dammit! I just wrote out an entire blog that was long and I lost it.

:LKDSJFaoisdfperuij;lakdsfjnas;dlifjaerio;ja;lkdvjmasd;iofuqwewo;rijnads;lfkjadopuiweorp;kljasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdsfmother.....

Erg. I'll return and retype when I'm not so p-i-s-e-d.

That's right. Pised.

Name the movie.

My God, it's cold.

So yes, I'm still in the 'Cuse, still working out the unemployment crap, still not working, and still don't know where I'll be assigned ... as of yet.

I was thinking about going to DC on Thursday to protest the inauguration of the idiot savant, but I'm freezing my patootie off here, I'm not sure that I want to stand in freezing cold with the possibility of snipers and DC police going Waco on my dissenting ass. I've been to the inauguration ('96) and I was cold as hell. And the security is ridiculous. So I'm thinking the next protest I will do. In the meantime, I'll sit in front of the 46" flat screen, try to see the friends I have left in 'Cuse, try to get tickets to the SU/Georgetown game tomorrow night, and rest up.

In the meantime, I'm kind of bored. Blah blah blah blah blah.

Time to watch another of the 5 rented videos from Blockbuster. Matt Damon or Brad Pitt? I love being on vacation, no matter how bored I am...

Back in the 'Cuse. Gotta take care of unemployment crap.

But this post is about something else. Been a while since I got out the soap box, but you didn't really think that I would have strayed from the rant for long, did you?

On Friday night, my parents and I went to fabulous Atlantic City for another one-night stay. We had a room and tickets to The Letterman that night.

Fabulous Atlantic City is better when I am winning. For the first time, I played the tables (Blackjack) and I am now hooked. This could be dangerous. Especially since I lost money this time around. I could have broken even, but it just wasn't my weekend. I'll need some time before I return. Though I can't stop thinking about it. Argh.

But I'm writing because the Letterman were actually the best show I've seen at Atlantic City. One of the original members is still traveling with the group - the two newer members are quite good, though one of them is built like Arnold and has a mullet, but that's not the point of this story.

For starters, there were an incredible amount of Filipinos who went. That's because one of their songs, "Dahil Sa'yo" (Because of You) is entirely in Tagalog. Apparently, they spent a lot of time in the Philippines when they were big.

By the way, the Letterman, for those who don't know, were the N'Sync* of the 50's and 60's. They were pretty good. "Theme from a Sumemr Place" was one of theirs, along with a string of other big hits from the oldies station.

First of all, I was with my parents, which means that we go places early. We were in our seats at least an hour and a half before the show started. Neat. My mom whispers to me, "See the Filipino family behind you? The boy? Is that some sort of new hat that is popular now?"

The kid was wearing a bike helmet.

We had a good laugh when I thought of "Garden State" and came up with a possible explanation. Also, he might have had head surgery recently, so I somewhat felt guilty at laughing at him. It's just rare to see people wearing bike helmets in public when they aren't on a bike. That's comedy.

I'm an asshole.

But then my mom goes, "Look at the guy at about 3 o'clock. Is that a Yalmulke?"

No, it was a guy who was bald. In a weird way. That was his pate my mom thought was a Yalmulke (Kippah). Nice, mom.

And has anyone yet noticed how good I am at correctly spelling Yiddish and Jewish words? Hell, I'm proud of myself.

But no, my soapbox hasn't come out yet. I am completing the comedy section of this blog.

They ended the evening with "Proud to be an American". People in the audience were swaying, standing, singing.

I wanted to cry. Because I used to be so proud to be an American. I still am. Perhaps this is why I am standing on the soapbox now.

Because no matter what patriotic song, event, or mention - I get really angry. Not at the people for expressing their beliefs and support for our country. But because they re-elected that idiot asshole of a president. All I could think of was wonder how many of them voted for Dubya. How many of them voted for Kerry. And how many of them were pissed as I was to know that the drunken frat boy is single-handedly driving the country into a ditch.

Just because I don't like the president doesn't mean that I am any less American than anyone else. And I resent being made felt that way. My grandmother a few weeks ago when I was in the middle of a rant in DC about the president told me, "He was re-elected, you should stop calling him names."

No. That's what makes me an American. I can disagree with the president. Just because he was re-elected doesn't mean that I don't believe in democracy. This is what democracy is all about. Actually, if we can use the proper term for the proper situation, we have a republic. But it doesn't mean that democracy or freedom is only the picture the president paints. It only took him a week to order flags at half-mast for the tsunami that ripped across South East Asia. It only took him a week to ignore an important security briefing that caused the worst terrorist attack on the United States. And it only took him a week to decide to invade a country that had nothing to do with that. I started thinking about all of the reserves and guardsmen and women overseas and I started getting really pissed. Because it is a far cry from what they signed up for.

And they are protecting my right to feel this way.

I guess I'm just tired of another four years of feeling that I need to explain myself. I support the troops but not the president, does that make me less of an American?

Here's one thing for damn sure, though. It strengthened my resolve to work harder to take our country back.

I just didn't expect it to come from a Lettermans concert. In Atlantic City, of all places.

Sigh. The soapbox is gone now. Just me. Frustrated. But I've got a week of rest. The new job starts on the 18th. I can start fighting again then. Until then, I better pack and get some rest.

I have too much shit.

After taking two days from the house renovation/unpacking/clearing 25 years worth of clutter for a fabulous New Year's at Ross's with friends - hell, we're more than all friends, we're family - I was not eager to jump back into working mode.

But I have no choice. So Young is moving back to New York and my parents are coming on Thursday.

Back to "While You Were Out". God, I wish I was motivated when I didn't have a fire lit underneath me. I would actually get some sleep.

Yet, it is not only my New Year's Intention (so much better than resolution) to live a more healthy lifestyle, but also a more feng shui'd lifestyle.

But how much is appropriate to keep from your past? I was cleaning out the other small guest room and ran across four or five more boxes of my shit. Plus I have a living room full of shit from moving out of NYC. I feel like I have run the gamut - I've cleared up or seen most of my stuff from college and Coro and now I'm hitting my professional life stuff (if you can call it that). Add in clothes, random tchokies, toys, stuffed animals, files, and posters - and you've got the mountain of mess that I am currently staring at in my room. Damnhellass. Many people prefer to just throw it all away. I can't seem to do it. It was my life and there were parts that were too good to throw away.

I suppose that I could, however, do without the one foot Cartman doll.

Or, I could throw it in the guest room next to mine. Not a bad idea. I can throw many stuffed animals over there. It adds to the folksy charm of the house.

Hmm.

Where else can I store folksy charm?

If I move things to the basement, they may never see the light of day again. So should I just throw it away? Probably. I think that's a rule from here on out. But I just am running out of space. If my dad hadn't already commented to me that he thinks this house has become my warehouse and storage space, I really wouldn't care. But the Christ! I've already created bags and bags worth of shit, I can't believe that I still have this much shit.

Not too hard to understand, though. I mean, in my defense, it is seven years worth of shit - parts of it 25 years worth of shit. I started storing things here in college since the house is close to school. So imagine four years of college - moving out of the dorms and just throwing your crap in one place, but never really going through it. Then imagine moving to New York City for three years, living in three different apartments, throwing boxes of stuff you don't really need in your apartment - and are too busy to adequately weed out so you just need to put your stuff somewhere - in one place.

That's what I'm dealing with. Seven years of moving. I only lived in one place for longer than a year. And even then, I moved for five to six months before heading back here. I don't mean to be a pack rat, but I also never really allowed myself the time to pack in a way that would be effective, meaning that I just threw shit into boxes or bags and moved them from one place to another instead of giving myself time to weed out and throw away before leaving.

This is worse than moving, though. Because it also coincides with work on the house. And if anyone's been to my house in Delaware, you know that it's not more than just needed, but that there's also a lot of shit in this house that needs to be thrown out and given to the Salvation Army. Because it isn't just a dumping ground for me, either. My folks might bitch and moan, but there is plenty of shit that is here that is theirs that they haven't touched in years or have brought from the house in Syracuse or apartments along the way. Not entirely fair, but they are both older and not in the best physical condition, so besides being happy that So Young has been helping me, I suppose that it's up to me to make sure that things are done.

I have cleaned out two rooms upstairs full of shit from the 70's and beyond. We've de-wallpapered two rooms and painted them. We have moved furniture around. And on top of that, I have to go through my shit. If there was at least one room that was completely empty, that would have improved the situation. But alas, it is what it is. We're working on getting rid of the wallpaper in the front foyer and stairs as well as the ceiling in the kitchen where the wallpaper has extensive water damage or has come off. The problem is that once you start working on one of those, you see other problem spots. Not neat at all.

So I doubt this is entertaining for any of you. Except that I'm kvetching to you. Sure, it would be easy to say to me, "Throw it all away". I'm trying, dammit!

The good news is that since my most recent stuff is already downstairs, it'll make it easier to pack. But I still have at least five boxes worth of shit down there that I have no freakin' idea what to do with.

It's keeping me distracted from the fact that I still do not know when my new job starts or where I will finally be placed. Or the fact that NY State has decided to temporarily suspend my unemployment checks until I appear in person in Syracuse. But I don't know when I will be expected to go to work (now that we're much closer to my supposed starting weeks) and if it's next week, then I don't really need that check. Of course, if it's two weeks, then my ass is going to Syracuse to get that check. That's another story in itself.

Packing sucks. Unpacking sucks. Uncluttering is liberating, but taking forever. Hmmm. Now I'm getting the urge to throw all of this shit away. Better hop to it and do it now before I change my mind!