I promise to spend more time blogging than taking quizzes, but this one was just too difficult to let pass. Thanks to Dave for the link on his blog - idotking.blogspot.com.


How Republican Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I've gotten like five different answers to this test, but this one comes up the most. And it's the same answers every time...hmmm...





i'm lovable and love people easily. i like making others
feel at ease, and people just can't help but have a good time when they're
around me. get some vicks and let the good times roll.

find out what kind of drug you are @
tara's website.

Okay. Someone please help me explain this.

So last night was the big Coro fundraiser - fabulous turnout, fabulous panelists, fabulous drinks - fabulous everything.

But there was something that sort of set me off last evening and it's not the first time that it's happened.

See, one of our journal assignments in Coro was to describe a time that we once felt discriminated against. This was somewhat difficult because no one has ever said outright - "I don't like you because you're brown." So I had to do some real thinking about a time that I might have felt discriminated against. And I realized something that happens to me sometimes.

Picture it: WalMart, Duane Reade, Hallmark store. Any given time in my life. I'm strolling through the aisles, looking for that perfect birthday card. I'm wearing a heavy winter jacket and scarf, browsing through the cards, laughing sometimes, just perusing. Like you do.

And I'll continue that way, up and down the aisles, looking at their wares, trying to choose the perfect gift - when suddenly some older white person stops to ask if I work there. Okay, I don't mean to sound like it's always older white people...oh wait. Yes I do. 'Cause that's the only way this scenario works. Let me paint the scene for you:

Setting: a drug store. Me? I'm just walking around. Wander, wander, wander. Browse, browse, browse. Minding my own business when a white person - or WP saunters up with a panic-stricken-urgent look on their face and clears their throat.

WP: Excuse me?

(browse, browse, browse. I don't notice. Until they grab my shoulder)

ME: (turn around, blank look on face) Yeah?

WP: Do you work here?

Me: Um, nope.

WP: Oh. You don't work here?

Me (inside voice): Did I stutter? What did I just tell you? (Outside voice) No.

WP: (hands go immediately to sides as if gravity suddenly strikes) Well, damn. (arms suddenly go back up) What am I going to do? Have you seen anyone that works here?
Me: (inside voice) Please go away and leave me the hell alone. It would be better if you didn't waste my time while you're having a panic attack. (outside voice) Sorry.

Let's examine this exchange. Why in the world would someone think that I work there? Hmmm. I described what I was wearing. Why on earth would someone working there wear a winter coat and scarf? Maybe they were cold you say? Okay. That I'll buy. But now hang on a second. In Hallmark, I wasn't wearing one of those blue smocks. At WalMart, I didn't have on one of those blue polos that clearly read "Walmart", nor was I wearing one of those obnoxious blue smocks. Duane Reade is the same way. Nope, I was just a customer coming in to shop during winter.

So why would someone, let's presumably make them educated, since they seemed nice and smelled nice (yes, this is important criteria), assume that I worked there? What other evidence is there? Hmmm.

Ah, could it be because I am brown?

Now don't get me wrong. I don't presume to say that these people are racist, discriminatory - but given the evidence, why else would anyone assume that I worked there?

Okay. Haven't convinced you? Let me relay a story to you from last night.

I'm in the bathroom of Eugene's. For those of you who have never been there - it's a great club on West 24th Street. Now this is a nice lounge. And if you're from NYC, you know what I'm talking about. Big comfy couches, VIP room, long bar, trendy furniture - and a bathroom attendant in a cool looking bathroom. If you've never experienced the bathroom attendant, come to NYC and I'll show you what I mean. Shee-shee-pee-pee-doo-doo places have them. It's a sure-fire sign that you're in a nice place.

So I'm in the bathroom, minding my own business, chatting amicably with some of the girls in the bathroom whom I happened to know. There were about six of us in the bathroom at the time and because of that, the bathroom attendant was sort of busy and I managed to get to a sink and get my own soap without assistance. While the bathroom attendants are nice people and I always tip them, I didn't have my wallet on me, so I was somewhat happy to go unnoticed at another sink. I did, however, say thank you to the nice bathroom attendant as I was walking past her to the door. (And this doesn't make a difference now, but yes, she happened to be a woman of color) Somehow, as I was walking, I missed the trash can to throw my paper towel away. So I sort of stopped and leaned back to find it and as I righted myself, an older white woman with a fur coat on (if you're from NYC, you know the type), hands me a dollar and says "Thank you very much."

Okay. I'm a bit thrown off. Yes, I have on a black suit and the bathroom attendant is wearing a tuxedo-looking thing (black vest, white shirt, black bow tie). I wasn't the only one in the room wearing a black suit (it's NYC for chrissakes). So I sort of stop dead in my tracks, and look at my hand, which she had slipped the dollar into. I think i said, "Oh."

At which point I promptly punched her in the neck.

Kidding. Don't I wish. I can already see it. WHAM! "Oops! I must have mistaken you for Hitler...bitch."

No, instead, I took the money from her and walked over to the bathroom attendant and put the money in the basket on the sink. I smiled and said, "Here you go." The attendant smiled at me and said, "Thanks." I said, "Have a great night." To which, the furry old white woman went up to the bathroom attendant and said, "Thank you very much." I was trying to get past the two of them and had made it to the door only to realize that the white woman was already at the door holding it open. The fur monster put her hand on my shoulder and had an apologetic look on her face and said, "Thank you very much." She then proceeded to walk out of the door in front of me and sort of held the door open.

And I'm thinking, "Buhscuse me? Oh no you didn't."

That's it. No, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." Not even an "oops." The point is, no "I'm sorry for confusing the two people of color in the bathroom."

WHAT IN THE SAMHELL IS THAT??!!!

Can you understand my angst? I mean, are you kidding me? If you did that accidentally to someone (and any of you reading, I seriously hope you wouldn't make that mistake) wouldn't you say that you were sorry? Here's a hint: not all people of color work for the establishment you happen to be in. In fact, I think that anyone should be just as offended as I am about this sort of thing. Who the hell do you think you are? Pay some goddammned attention! Did you miss the Civil Rights Movement or were you too busy trying to understand what exactly the Emancipation Proclamation was saying? And for crying out loud, you live in NEW YORK CITY, easily one of the most international cities in the world. Already I have problems trying to explain to people that I'm Filipino and hell if they know where the Philippines is. I usually get people asking if I'm Samoan, Hawaiian, Spanish, and Carribean. Let me remind all of the readers that Filipinos are the second largest group of Asian Americans in the USA. And no matter where I am - be it in NYC, Chestertown, MD, or Syracuse, NY, I get white people asking me all the time what aisle something is in.

Someone please tell me if I'm delusional. But I want you to think about it first. People wonder why I sing that Garret Morris SNL song at times...and if you don't know the song, hellfire on you. Or just email me, I'll be happy to relay the song. Or call me, I'll sing it for you. It's just classic.

Lord knows I was singing it last night when I left the bathroom.

I've come to realize that when I post something that irks me, the problem usually goes away. Case in point: Possible MTA Strike. The day after posting it, they averted one. Another example? Trent Lott. He's no longer Speaker. So I've come to think that maybe, just maybe if I post, things might be better.

P.S. I realize I'm delusional in thinking this. But what the hell, right?

So let's talk war.

That's right. War. Did anyone catch George W. Bush's State of the Union? I couldn't watch for more than five minutes, but I think one of my friends put it best: "Who would have believed that we were actually WINNING the WAR?"

That's 'cause we're not. We haven't finished what happened in Afghanistan, why the hell would we want to go to war someplace else? I just want to thank god for Colin Powell prevailing over W in terms of the UN. This brings me to something that I argued in high school when I went to DC in '96 to see the second Clinton Inauguration. Me and three friends from high school did this program where we not only went to the Inauguration but also spent a week in DC, etc. Basically, we had to also pretend to be in Congress and debate a point.

Our debate of choice? Whether or not the US should withdraw from the UN. Okay, we were Model U.N. geeks. But I still think it's valid, don't you?

Maybe you don't see the connection, that's okay. But what we feared then might be realized now. If George Bush continues on this rampage - this "we'll go to war whether you're with us or against us" then we're in some serious shit. But let me tell you why:

1. Going into an unsanctioned UN war against Iraq is a violation of the UN Charter. You can see the obvious problems here. Let me remind you that if we go to war without proper UN guidance and sanctions then we will be doing the same thing to Iraq that Iraq did to Kuwait back in 1992. At least in 1992, George the first could use that as proper reason for UN support, though we also went for oil. It's bad enough that under Jesse Helms, we allowed our UN dues to skyrocket to the tune of $3 million - which Clinton actively lobbied Congress to pay. The problem is that by doing that, we already had the world thinking we were assholes. Guess what? They think it again.

2. While the proof is pretty heavy, it pales in comparison to the evidence against Russia during the Cuban Missle Crisis. We have strong suspicion that they have nuclear capablity and that they are breaking arms sanctions, but no real proof beyond someone's word against Saddam's. If we have learned anything from Saddam in the past, he's a smart cookie. Yes, the threat is real, but it is also imagined unless we can come up with at least one picture of one missle aimed at the US - AND THE POSSIBILITY OF IT HITTING THE US. The pictures of Cuba in 1962 are undeniable evidence. The pictures of 2003 aren't. We have a lot of circumstancial evidence that points to POTENTIAL threat. I realize that we are in a precarious state right now as a country, but putting us at war in Iraq will endager us even more.

3. Going to war with Iraq without the proper support will further harm our standing in the Middle East. We have connections to Al Queda in Iraq, but even that is shaky ground. As far as I know, there are plenty of people in the world with Al Queda connections - and don't think for a minute that I'm being flippant about this. Remember where I was on September 11th? That's right. What I am saying now is that Al Queda is our opponent and we shouldn't lose sight of that. I'm not sure that going to war against Saddam is a way to quelch that threat. In fact, it seems like it's something we added on at the end. "We want to rid the world of terrorists and evil-doers. So we will find the people who knocked down our buildings and make them pay. Oh, and while we're at it, we'll also finish the job we've been meaning to in Iraq." Connecting the dots later does not make for diplomacy. We go to war in Afghanistan, we go to war in Iraq - and what do you think the Arab world will think of us? They already hate us. What makes us think that by getting rid of Saddam we get rid of the hate - that we end the cycle? No, we promote the cycle of hate and war and death by going to war. I'm already upset that we went to war in the first place, now it seems to me that we are inadvertantly starting a holy war that I'm not sure we'll ever erase.

4. If we move without UN support, we will further diminish our standing in the world and regain the standing of us as bullies. Are you willing to let the President of this country invade a nation to protect our way of life? Would you wage war as a means to and end? I'm realize that I'm not aware of what he knows - all the super intellegence that has been gathered that is at the White House. But you know what? I'm not convinced that this is the means to an end. I know that Saddam Hussein is a delusional and evil dictator. But I need to be convinced that the threat is REAL, not IMAGINED. I need to be sure that when we move, we move with the world behind us, a unilateral effort to rid the world of Saddam. Globalization doesn't only occur on the economic level, it can happen on the political one, too. It helped calm my fears about going to war in Afghanistan, it would sure help now. There's something that one of my professors in college said - and he was only at the school for a year - and many people did not like him, but I found his words to be intriguing: "The United States and Western world are constantly worried about nations developing the nuclear bomb. It makes sense to fear something you know that is so terrible. But the thing is just this: why fear other countries developing them? We should all be more afraid of the country that actually has used them."

5. Going to war does not erase what is happening at home. Unemployment is rising. Homelessness is rising. The economy is awful. Drug use is at an all time high. George, there are things at home that you should be concerned about...or maybe that's why we're going to war...

This is what I feel. Maybe it's illogical, maybe contradictory, but you know what? I'm not entirely against this war - AS LONG AS IT'S FOR THE RIGHT REASONS AND WITH THE RIGHT SUPPORT. I admit again that I am not aware of all the intellegence on this issue. There's probably a whole hell of a lot more that we don't know. But I'd rather be a dove than a hawk and I'd rather us try to settle our issues in the proper manner than invade a nation that we think poses a possible threat. I'd rather see our country working towards peace than war and stop scaring us into believing that this war is necessary. If I had five seconds alone with George W. Bush, I'd have this to say to him:

"It's okay George. Daddy will still love you."

Recently, I've been surfing my buddies sites and AIM Profiles. So that would explain the Founding Fathers thing and this post. A few had found a website that automatically puts a word you choose into a slogan. Find it at: thesurrealist.co.uk/slogan.

For example, I took the liberty to put in "Keeza". Below are the results and then the top 13 slogans for "Keeza". (Top 13 because they just are, ok?)

"Good Keeza has Danish written all over it."
"Takes a Keeza, but keeps on tickin'."
"Aaaah, Keeza."
"The Keeza drinkers lighter Keeza."
"A glass and a half in every Keeza."
"It's not TV. It's Keeza."
"Fall into the Keeza."
"Dial down the Keeza."
"The appliance of Keeza."
"Keeza - the appetizer!"
"The Keeza of confidence."
"Always after me Keeza."
"Built Keeza tough."
"My Doctor says 'Keeza'."
"Ask the man from the Keeza."
"Look for the Keeza label."
"Made in Scotland from Keeza."
"You can be sure of Keeza."
"Come to life. Come to Keeza."
"You can on a Keeza, can do!"
"Recommended by Dr. Keeza."
"Come see the softer side of Keeza."
"Keeza keeps it going and going."

THE TOP 13 SLOGANS FOR "KEEZA":
13. "Wow! I could have had a Keeza!" sinner.
12. "I'm only here for the Keeza."
11. "Sometimes you feel like a Keeza, sometimes you don't."
10. "Good honest Keeza since 1896."
9. "Ding-Dong! Keeza calling!"
8. "Keeza tested, Mother approved."
7. "The best Keeza a man can get."
6. "From our Keeza to yours."
5. "I'm Cuckoo for Keeza."
4. "Thank Keeza it's Friday."
3. "The Keeza is mightier than the sword."
2. "Lipsmakin' thirstquenchin' acetastin' motivatin' goodbuzzin' cooltalkin' highwalkin' fastlickin' evergivin' coolfizzin' Keeza." (Say that 10x fast.)

...AND THE NUMBER 1 SLOGAN FOR THE WORD "KEEZA":

1. "DON'T SAY BROWN. SAY KEEZA."

If you know me, you'll understand why that's funny.

Haha! I buhfigured it out so that this only comes once - I AM THE SMARTEST EVER!

Well, not really. But figure out which Founding Father you are by clicking on the link...

Which Founding Father Are You?

Much thanks to Dave for the link above - who knew that I'd have more in common with George Washington than attending the school that bears his name...ah, fifty guineas and a dream...

Sadly, I recently drove my good and dear friend, Fab to her new home in Cleveland, Ohio. That's right. Sunny Cleveland.

Did I say sunny? I meant grey, dark, dank. I admit that I'm an elitist when it comes to New York, but I'm hard-pressed to find a New Yorker that isn't. We have much to be elitist about, after all. And look, I did spend a good amount of time outside of the state - and it reinforced my belief in my homestate. I've come to terms that while I could live in a nice state like Maryland or a nice city like Boston, I just can't find anything that feels like I do when I'm in New York - be it state or city. I love the whole damn thing. So I'm a New York elitist. Big deal. I know plenty of people who like Baltimore and I fail to understand, so keep to yours and I'll keep to mine, thank you very much.

Now this isn't what I choose to talk about today. No. I want to talk about the drive from New York to Cleveland. Why? Because it's long. And because driving through a snowstorm yields numerous possibilities for a fun road trip. And because driving through Pennsylvania east to west is not something that I recommend to anyone. It's like driving through an asshole backwards.

Yes. That is the imagery I choose to use.

We left NYC about five hours later than planned, which meant that we were driving through most of the evening. We had already resigned to the idea that we'd have to stop if it got too bad or we were too tired. So off we went, over the George Washington Bridge and towards Ohio.

Let me explain some things that you need to know:

1. Fab and I ALWAYS have interesting roadtrips.
2. Fab has a cat, Cali, that needed to come with her to her new apartment. Cali doesn't like car trips. So Fab has a tranquilizer in the event that she has to go on one.
3. Maybe only Fab and I think that we're funny. It's ok. We realize that.

So, as we leave NYC, Fab mentions to me that I'm the one that has to give Cali her tranquilizer. Buhscuse me? I'm no Dr. Doolittle. But she's convinced that I'm the one who has to do it since she couldn't. Looking around, I seemed to be the only other option. And at this point in the trip (let's say, um, about ten minutes), Cali's meowing had gotten to a fever pitch and was driving the two of us nuts. We thought that turning up the radio would help, but we felt callous. So Fab decided to try to give her the tranquilizer whilst I drove. We had already tried to pull aside once before leaving the city to administer the drug, but the cat wasn't having it. So as we drove towards the Delaware Water Gap, Fab decided to try again - this time, while the car was in motion. Fine by me. Anything to keep her quiet.

As you can probably imagine, this wasn't the smartest idea the two of us had. After the third try (she was attempting to shoot the pill down Cali's throat while she was meowing), she lost the pill somewhere in the carrier. Also, she noticed that she was suddenly wet. I couldn't smell anything, so I assumed that it was from the snow. Five minutes later, we couldn't conceal the smell of ammonia in the car.

That's right, kids. The cat peed on Fab as she tried to give her the pill. Luckily for the car, it seemed to be mostly on Fab's pants.

Strike one.

We decide we're hungry. So we get to the next exit and head for Wendy's (a Fab and Keeza favorite). We miss the Wendy's by ten miles - the road wasn't marked at all. As we turn around, Fab comes to the brilliant conclusion that not only were we lost in (shudder) New Jersey, we were starved, she was wet, and the cat had pissed on her. All she wanted to do was change her pants. So she spots an abandoned X-mas Tree store, makes me pull over, and changes pants in the middle of the parking lot. Did I mention that it's a snowstorm?

As she changes, she whips out the febreeze and sprays it all over the car. At this point, I'm hungry, have febreeze in my mouth, and going slowly crazy as the cat meows at an unforgivingly high pitch. We are both resolved to give this cat the pill. So as she holds Cali down, I gently manage to get the pill into the cat's mouth and massage her throat.

Objective one taken care of.

Now we're on the road with a vengance trying to find the Wendy's. We locate it and sit down to eat. As we sit, we come to the slow realization that the past hour of our road trip has been very entertaining. I mention that I felt like we were in a "very bad Animal Planet". Fab starts to choke on her Wendy's chilli whilst on the phone. We are laughing like crazies in the middle of Wendy's. She tries to say that the chilli is up her nose when I exclaim, "If you snarf a chilli bean onto my dashboard when we get back into the car, I'm dumping your ass here and going back to NY", which only makes her laugh harder.

Maybe you had to be there.

But the other great part of the roadtrip - besides the motel that we stayed at where we had to pull a virtual James Bond to get the cat in and out of the room with no one seeing - was that we ran over something dead.

Okay, I didn't mean for that to sound the way it came out. Because running over roadkill is disgusting.

But the thing is that we weren't sure what it was. It didn't look like anything resembling an animal (quadreped, that is - not a deer or a racoon) - nor did it look like anything resembling a part fallen off of a car. Instead, it looked like an anaconda. Do they have anaconda's in Pennsylvania? 'Cause it's disturbing.

And one more thing - we went out to dinner in Cleveland and I was in the women's bathroom and there was a dispenser labeled "Women's Feminine Tampons". Does anyone else see why I think this is funny? I mean, come on. Please look at it again and tell me that it's funny.

I think I'm losing my mind. No job and no money make Monkee something, something...

And by the P.S. - I realize that I have the "Which Founding Father" thing on my last blog twice. I still think RAM is a football team, so I have no idea why it is doing that.

Happy holidays, all. Thanks for visiting.

Wanna know why it's been a great holiday? No transit strike and Trent Lott is no longer Speaker. Wheehee!

I know what you're saying, "Great, Monkee, onto your usual rant." Keep yer pants on. I got a good one.

Now the holiday season usually means a time to go back to the homefire, back to the families, back to the hometown where we grew up. This always poses some interesting possibilities. Lemme explain.

If you're lucky enough to go home for an extended period of time - for me, a week - then you probably are trying to figure out how to divide your time between your family and your old friends. This is usually the case for me. So before I go home, like some of you, I call my friends to tell them when I'll be back. We make plans, etc - I'm sure you know how the rest of it goes.

But here's the thing: we always say, "Yeah, let's go out (insert night of the week here) night. We'll figure it out when we get home."

Now you haven't been home in a while and everything has changed. So you're trying to rack your brain about which place - old for the memories or new for the experience - you should go to. Keep in mind that it's Upstate New York, so it's also snowing and cold. With all of this in mind, your choices have now somewhat been cut down. You no longer want to go far away - like into the city of Syracuse 'cause it's cold and snowing. So you now have to stick to your immediate area.

See, in Syracuse, a lot of the school districts are marked by the town or in my case, two towns, Fayetteville and Manlius. So I went to Fayetteville-Manlius High School. Now this is a long and now that I look at it, confusing way of saying that in my immediate area where I went to high school, there are two towns where our possibilities for a night are. And within these two towns, there's only two bars to seriously consider going to - Mulligans in Fayetteville and Mulrooney's in Manlius (at least I think those are their names since we call them both Mully's).

Mully's in Fayetteville is much closer to my house (down the street) but Mully's in Manlius is much nicer. This is where the problem lies.

Mully's in Manlius has become the place where FM High School grads go to when home. So you have a serious question to ask yourself: Do you want to face people that you have either: a.) fallen out of touch with; b.) never really talked to in high school; c.) they never acknowledged your presence in high school; d.) can remember their face, but not their name; e.) forgotten existed?

My answer is no under choice f: All of the above. I don't want to see people that I have either chosen to or involuntarily fallen out of touch with, I don't want to see people that I never talked to in high school, nor do I want to see people whose faces I can place, but whose names elude me. I certainly don't want to see people who never acknowledged my very presence and I don't need to be reminded who exists because obviously, I have forgotten them for a reason. Who the hell in their right minds will put themselves through that?

And the answer to this more important question is: me and my one of my best friends, Sugene. Why? Because we did. We knew all of the stuff that I just said and we went anyway. We were fully aware of our consequences. Why? I'm afraid I can't answer that. But this I know: I always, always resist going to Mully's. Suege seems to be intent on bringing me there at least once every time we're home. The last time, her entire graduating class was in the bar and I knew maybe 5 people there. Felt out of place. So I really didn't want to go this time. But sucks to my asthmar, I went.

And this time, my graduating class was holding court at Mully's.

I had a great time. Got to hang out with people that I didn't forget existed, just didn't know where they ended up. Catching up with folks. Seeing how everyone has grown. Changed.

It's interesting to see who thinks they're still too cool for school to talk to you - and yes, there are always a couple of them. Dicks. I mean, really? Does it matter anymore? Really? Ooh, you were a lacrosse player and untouchable - for chrissakes, you aren't playing anymore - get the damn stick out of your ass. For everyone else, they learned to be human beings and have learned to say a basic "Hello". Learn humanity. It's really not going to help you in the long-run to continue walking around with your head up your own ass.

By the way, Suege didn't have a great time this time - since it was my graduating class. Eh, can't win 'em all. Guess we'll be going into Syracuse next time we're home and want to go out.

That takes care of that one.

Okay. I wanna talk about the weather.

Why is it so freakin' cold out there?

I'm sure that you've noticed. It's freakin' freezing out there. So let's talk about it, shall we?

Anyone notice how damn hot it was this summer? It was unbearably hot. And I sweat a lot, so let's just say that it was really disgusting - or as me and some friends like to say - buhgusting and buhgross. There was no real way to escape the heat unless you had air conditioning. And if you read one of my summer posts, you'll see my plan to put air conditioning in every corner of the world before I die.

But now it's freakin' cold out. Why the two extremes?

Um, global warming? El Nino? La Nina? Does it worry anyone else besides me?

Now let's talk fashion. There is a connection, I promise.

In this kind of weather, why do we subject ourselves to be victims of fashion? Because while the peacoats and wool coats look nice, they don't do a damn thing when the weather is this damn cold. The air seems to get underneath so that it gets right to us - and lately, I've been sporting a leather coat. Um, the leather doesn't do much of anything. It's as useless as a baby in a topless bar. In fact, it holds the cold. Why in the hell do I wear it?

'Cause it looks cool. It's nice. And expensive. And black. And I live in Manhattan. What the hell am I thinking?

While I'm standing out there, waiting for the bus to arrive, and I'm doing the math between what time it is and the time the bus gets there and the chances and probability of me freezing to death - I notice that I'm not the only one who's delusional. I notice that everyone around me, clad in nice jackets, are doing the same damn thing.

Why do we do it to ourselves? I would be happier than a pig in shit if I just wore a fleece jacket underneath my goretex crew jacket. But the leather jacket or my peacoat look so much better next to it.

I blame Britney Spears. Well, not really, but it's a change from me blaming the Republicans, isn't it? Actually, I don't blame anyone but myself. Silly old me, trying to look cool going to a bar. If I just wore my big and not as nice jackets that would keep the warmth in, I'd probably be happier. And come to think of it, we all are. No one gives a shit what you're wearing. No one. Except ourselves. And if someone else did really give a damn, tell them to screw themselves. They're probably wearing a thin leather jacket and freezing their ass off. And you can tell them, "At least I'm warm, jackass."

New topic: I wish to talk about [insert evil giggle of glee] Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott.

[grin] I'm sorry - I can't seem to stop smiling at this whole thing. I can't seem to stop laughing, either. And I'd like to apologize, but frankly, I don't give a damn. For once in the past couple of weeks, I'm happy with all the media attention on the Republicans.

Now let's get to the facts of the matter, shall we? This is buhxactly what he said (according to TIME magazine):

Lott has been under fire since last week, when he declared that his state was proud to have voted for Strom Thurmond's segregationist ticket in 1948. "And if the rest of the country had followed our lead," Lott added in remarks at Thurmond's 100th birthday party, "we wouldn't have had all these problems over the years either." Lott has since apologized, and on Thursday, President Bush said the apology was deserved. "Any suggestion that the segregated past was acceptable or positive is offensive and it is wrong," Bush declared.

Let me just amplify: "And if the rest of the country had followed our lead," Lott added in remarks at Thurmond's 100th birthday party, "we wouldn't have had all these problems over the years either."

I don't care if the man was turning 1,000 or if he was happy 'cause his viagra was working - the comments were unnecessary.

Okay, maybe he was just kidding - and he figured it was safe to say it in the company of other politicos. Maybe he felt like he was in a "safe zone" where he could say bullshit like that.

Or maybe he really meant it.

Hmmm.

Let's see - let's take a look at his record:

1. He tried to block the integration of African-Americans into his college fraternity at Ole Miss. It has now since been integrated, but he was a leading force against it.

2. In his 1981 friend-of-the-court filing with the Supreme Court, Lott cited court rulings upholding affirmative action programs at colleges and compared them to the dating ban between black and white students at Bob Jones University. Bob Jones University is a fundamentalist Christian school in Greenville, South Carolina, and its ban on interracial dating among students has long stirred controversy. It has dogged judicial nominees who were involved in the school's various legal fights, and presidential candidates, including Bush, who have been criticized for visiting the campus. The school recently lifted the ban. The Supreme Court ruled 8-1 to strip the school of its tax exemption about two years after Lott filed his brief. "To hold that this religious institution is subject to tax because of its interracial dating policies would clearly raise grave First Amendment questions," he argued. (from CNN)

3. In a 1997 interview with Time magazine, Lott said he once favored segregation as a college student watching armed U.S. marshals help a black student gain entry to a Mississippi university. "Yes, you could say that I favored segregation then. I don't now," Lott was quoted as saying. "The main thing was, I felt the federal government had no business sending in troops to tell the state what to do." (from CNN)

4. And he's done it before. As CNN reports: That line initially drew little fire, but the criticism grew this week and intensified with a report of a similar comment he made at a 1980 campaign rally for Ronald Reagan in Mississippi. His comments followed a speech by Thurmond, who praised the platform that would soon put Reagan in the White House. "You know, if we had elected this man 30 years ago, we wouldn't be in the mess we are today," Lott was quoted as saying of Thurmond in a November 3, 1980, article in The Clarion-Ledger, a Jackson newspaper.

That's just a few of the things that he's done that follow the same line as his remarks. If you ask me, it ain't just a kwinky-dink. (Er, that would be coincidence, in Monkey-speak)

You know what? I'm not even going to editorialize this one. I'm just presenting the facts. But as this is my blogger, I might as well personalize it, no?

Hell, you twisted my arm.

I think it just slipped out. Really. I think he just said it, he meant it to be funny or he meant it to be sincere, either way, it was a dumb-ass thing to say. I think his apology should be enough and there really isn't enough happening out there in our big wide world - which is the same reason that Mariah Carey's mental breakdown dominated the news for weeks.

But as I debate with myself back and forth as to whether or not the man should resign, I keep coming back to one thing: he's the Majority Leader. He's in charge of the party that just won a historical mid-term election and a party that's seeking to re-shape its image as friendly to minorities. And though I would have debated it in the thesis I wanted to write (instead of one on critical elections), his party is Lincoln's party - in name, not so much in policy anymore - and either way you look at it, he's the guy that they look to - he's the leader.

He shouldn't be so damn stupid. He's in charge, for chrissakes.

He should watch his damn mouth. He's the damn spokesperson for his party, for the love of pete.

See, this is the type of stuff that gives me hope for my party. My poor, disjointed, losing party (I can admit it, okay?). When a Republican makes stupid ass remarks like this that are just plain stupid and insensitive - well, I gotta hang onto something, right? Right. But you know what? NOTHING he says can take back the remark. He's apologized how many times now - four? It doesn't matter. You said it and nothing you can say or do can take it back. Know why? 'Cause your record says something different.

This, my dear friends, can be chalked up to something my good friend and sister whom I affectionately call Porkchop once told me: People may not believe what you say, but they'll always believe what you do. So sorry, Trent Lott. No amount of your, "Oh, P.S., I was just kidding" bullshit is going to save you.

Hey all you Dems out there - write this down in your notebooks: watch what you say. Not that it matters, 'cause the past forty years have spoken to our beliefs, and they haven't changed. But mark down this day as this:

DAY ONE OF CRITICAL ELECTION 2004. That's right, kids. A Watershed Election. Don't know what it is? Look it up. That's what I'm talkin' about.

Oh, and by the PPS: 24 and a half hours counting until us New Yorkers find out whether or not the TWA workers will strike. At the time of this writing, there has been no further action on the negotiations and the TWA representative has said that the talks have gone from "good faith to no faith". That doesn't sound so damn good. WHERE THE HELL IS GEORGE PATAKI? DIDN'T I FREAKIN' TELL PEOPLE NOT TO VOTE FOR HIS DAMN ASS? Now look. Here's where we are. I was specific, I even gave people a candidate to vote for - and I didn't waiver in that. You know what? It's out of my hands. But you know what? It never was in my hands...damnhellass. The end.

My god, it has been awhile.

Well, things here have been pretty good. Okay, they've been alright. Depends on what day you catch me.

I'm actively searching for employment. Maybe one day, I'll post some funny stuff that happened to me on the campaign trail - and yes, there was a lot of FUNNY stuff that happened on the campaign trail.

But let's chat for a minute, Monkay style, shall we? I want you to entertain me - even those of you who don't live in this city - just so that you can see what I fought for during the last six months of my employment.

Maybe this only affects those of us who live in NYC. Actually, I know it does. But for those of you outside of the city, maybe you'll understand.

I wanna talk about this possible MTA "illegal" strike.

For those of you that don't live here, I want you to imagine NYC without its subway system. Too vague? Then think about this: 8 million New Yorkers all live and breathe in this city. Many of us (not including myself since I'm unemployed) work in the borough of Manhattan. This means not just people living in Manhattan, but people that live in the other four boroughs, which include Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens, and Staten Island. Not including those who live in the suburbs of the city - which include Long Island, Westchester, and Rockland. Now many people that live in this city don't work in Manhattan and work in other boroughs. If they're lucky, they live in the borough that they work in. But let's think for a second about the way that this city is geographically situated, shall we? Let's, for arguments' sake, say that most people work in Manhattan.

I want to make this tangible for all of you who haven't grasped this or don't care to. This is me caring about your knowledge whether or not you live in this city, mmkay? Sharing is caring. Knowledge and understanding are important tools we must have, which is why I feel the need, nay, the responsibility to impart this and make it tangible for you.

Manhattan is an island. One purchased rather cheaply by the Dutch from the Manhattan tribe. There are certain pockets or "areas" that are work places. Wall Street comes to mind. Downtown Manhattan. Midtown Manhattan is a bustling area that is mostly commercial. Now the rest of Manhattan is residential, though the mix of commerical and residential makes New York what it is. I'm thinking Upper East and West Sides, Lower East Side, TriBeCa, The Village, Clinton (or Hell's Kitchen), Gramercy/Union Square, Harlem (proper), East Harlem (Spanish Harlem), Washington Heights - these are what can be considered residential. Now take the actual geographic size of Manhattan - 24 square miles - and it doesn't seem so big, does it?

Now let's size it down. Let's say that I live in the Upper East Side - around 86th Street. Let's say I work on Wall Street. That's easily around 100 blocks.

Now let's say that this strike actually happens and there is no subway service. There is no bus service. 100 blocks in a cab is equal to about $12.00 - but that's if there isn't any traffic or any stop lights - that's going straight and during the day (this means $2.00 fare plus $.30 every three blocks and not including tip - there is a science to those non-New Yorkers out there).

Ah, but let's remember that if there is no bus service and no subway service, people would have to rely on cabs to get them to work. Now let's think about the fact that it's hard to get a cab in Manhattan on the work week in the morning rush as well as the evening rush - let alone the traffic that happens in general in New York. Oh, and if it rains, it becomes five times harder to get one.

Now let's think about everyone taking a cab - that jams the traffic even more. In this cold, people would be crazy to walk to work.

And this is just if you live in Manhattan.

The only ways to get into Manhattan are via bridge or tunnel. It's already hard enough to do that if you live outside of Manhattan and drive into work. Imagine if all the people already in Manhattan had to resort to cab and livery service to get to work, add that to the normal morning rush and you've got REM's "Everybody Hurts" video.

Now let's talk about status quo in the city for a second, shall we?

If my memory serves me correctly from my Coro year, the subway and bus system moves approximately 5.4 million people every day to stops all over the city. Most of these people are going from home to work and back or home to school and back. The rest are just going about their lives, running errands, going to meetings, meeting friends, etc. 5.4 million people - that's just mindblowing. All in a day's time.

And MTA service also encompasses the Metro North and the Long Island Railroad - people who travel from the suburbs I talked about earlier.

Now, if what we said was true earlier, in the event of the subway strike, and you've got cars snarled and not moving at all on the roads and I live on the Upper East Side and work on Wall Street, my only two options to get to work are to: 1, walk, or 2, ride a bike, rollerblade, or razor scooter it.

That is just re-goddammned-diculous.

Are you kidding me? Are you f___ing kidding me? There has to be another way.

Or someone's head is going to roll.

Now the Mayor (who I worked hard to get into the office, by the PS) has offered a few remedies should the situation actually get there. One is to limit all car travel in the city to carpools with four people. One is to suspend alternate side of the street parking (keeps me from moving my car from one side of the street to another at an ungodly hour). Livery cars would be able to to pick up passengers who hail them, like cabs.

I repeat: Are you kidding me? Are you f___ing kidding me? There has to be another way.

Or someone's head is seriously going to roll. Seriously.

I mean, he doesn't have many options. He's gotta deal with it, plain and simple. He's gotta try to talk to the governor about this 'cause the MTA is a state thing. That's right, people, a state thing. But since the Mayor is the Mayor of the city, he's gotta deal with it, so he's gotta be involved. The last time that this happened, the strike lasted for 11 days. I've seen the pictures in the papers - there is a sea of folks out on the street. It was April and it was during the Koch administration.

It is now December, it's freezing cold out there, and there's now 8 million of us. I think it's bad walking through Times Square on a weekend with tourists or on Canal Street on Saturdays in Chinatown.

Are you f___ing kidding me?

If the transit workers go on strike, the City loses something like $311 million a day (think about what would happen if the contingency plan goes into action - the loss in revenue from suspending alternate side of the street parking - read parking tickets - plus loss of commerce from trucks coming into the city - just the tip of the iceberg). How the hell can we afford that when the economy is tanking and we're cutting services left and right in this city?

The truth is this: there is ONE person who can stop this from happening - and one alone. Though the Mayor is involved, like I said the MTA is a state agency.

That would be Governor Pataki.

And he's not doing a damn thing right now. Why? I don't know. Maybe he knows something or is stalling on the negotiation. But what it amounts to is doing a whole hell of a lot of nothing.

Just give the transit workers the damn raise. Just do it. If this city is the economic engine of the state - think about what just one day on strike would do to us. Think about the people who would lose their jobs because they couldn't go to work - and lose them in the worst economy possible. Think about the children who couldn't even go to school because they couldn't get there on time. For crying out loud - think about your goddamn citizens and get off your duff and stop this from happening. Those transit workers deserve it - they don't get paid enough to do what they have to do - have a damn heart and stop this craziness.

And don't let people fool you - the governor is the only one who can make it all dissapear.

But you know what? I just spent 6 months trying to convince New Yorkers to get rid of him, they didn't, and now look. Funny, 'cause I think that Transit Workers endorsed Carl McCall, the candidate I worked for. In fact, I seem to remember a certain press conference on the steps of the New York Public Library - yes, I seem to remember an endorsement on the Working Families line. Yup, something about weilding campaign signs on sticks and losing my already slipping voice on a gray afternoon in the cold. Hmmm.

Hey, politics is politics.

But you know what? I have a baaad feeling this strike is going to happen. The negotiations should, ideally, remain in good faith - but who the hell knows?

All the same, I've got a baad feeling. And you know what? I'm going to need another two people to ride in my car just to pick up my grandmother in Brooklyn so that I can take her to my house in Syracuse for Christmas. And I'll need another two people to ride in my with me just so that I can get back into the city. And I'd better leave now or else the traffic is gonna suck in a week. And guess what I'm gonna say when I'm stuck in three-hour traffic and I've gone a block?

Are you kidding me? Are you f___ing kidding me? There has to be another way. I thought I told people not to vote for that bastard.

GOD BLESS AMERICA.

Keep your heads up high, New York. We are broken, but not bowed. We have been tried, but never defeated. Living in this city, being a part of it, just remember that simply living our lives to the fullest is an inspiration to all.

And to those lost, whose restless souls whistle in the strong wind rippling through Manhattan today - you will never be forgotten in this heart.

"...we will not merely endure; we will prevail. We are immortal, not because we have an inexhaustable voice but because we have a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance."

-Faulkner

I saw ladybugs doing it. I swear to God.

It was last week at Bristol Hills Music Camp.

I swear to you that this story gets better. Yes, I was at MUSIC CAMP in Canandaigua - and it's for vocals, strings, and band instru...oy, nevermind. Fine, I go to band camp. Are you happy? Damnhellass American Pie movies.

Anyway, we're coming back from lunch and I'm headed to the latrine because my cabin had latrine duty.

Seriously, this is a good story, stop laughing.

And two of the other counselors - let's call them Porky and Uh-huh (we have this Little Rascal thing going on) call out, "Hey Keeza, come over here! You gotta see this!"

Trash bags wrapped around my neck and both hands full of toilet paper rolls, I saunder over to where they were bent at the waist peering at the ground. As I arrive, they have this goofy look on their face.

I take a look and see one ladybug and another one underneath it. I squint my eyes and realize that I'm seeing two ladybugs mate. The shrieks of girlish giggles ensues as we all stare at the two ladybugs, each of us shaking our head back and forth and murmuring, "I had no idea they did it like that."

So yes, arts appreciation sleep-away camps are just full of sex-education. It's just that this one was the kind that you'd see monkeys engaging in at the zoo on a hot summer day between them throwing poo.

Enough from my end. Back to work. Oy.

So, my piece of very exciting news was that I met Patsy and Eddy - that's right kids, actually met Patsy and Eddy. They physically touched me and spoke to me. So I can die now. Completely.

Alright. Let me explain to those of you living under a rock or without Comedy Central or BBC America, Absolutely Fabulous is one of the funniest shows out there. Patsy and Eddy are played by two incredibly funny women - Jennifer Saunders (Eddy) and Joanna Lumley (Patsy). Stop reading this right now and go and pick up a video or dvd of the Absolutely Fabulous series. A warning: it's British humor. If you don't get "Monty Python", don't waste your time. It's intellegent humor.

Since this is the third attempt for me to get this message to you, it is coming as condensed as I can bear because I'm getting tired of typing it all out. So here's the details that you have to know:

Working for the Comptroller of NYS and gubnatorial candidate has it's moments. The Gay Pride Awards happened on Thursday of last week during NYC's pride week, this year dubbed "Absolutely Fabulous Week."

So we had heard murmurings of Patsy and Eddy were coming to town - long story short, we found out that they were being presented with awards at the Pride Awards at City Hall so somehow me and my friend from work, Chris (yes, he swings that way) happened to make it onto the VIP list. Damn straight.

So we head into City Hall and beat the lines and found some good seats when we noticed that Joanna Lumley had entered the room. So Chris and I make our way over to Patsy and he got there first and was saying something to her. By the time I got there, he pointed and she turned and smiled at me...so I asked her to sign the only thing that I had in my bag for signing - my bus schedule - and she happily obliged. Chris then took a picture with her and it was my turn and she put her arm around me and smiled for a picture. Since it was hotter than a thrice-poked cooter in there, I was sweating bullets and I said something about the heat and she said, "Tell me about it, it's almost suffocating." I said thanks very much and she was all, "No problem, Cheers."

I turn in the opposite direction and nearly run into Jennifer Saunders. I look at her, she looks at me, I was like, "Oh, hello." And she replied, "Hello there." Chris and I then moved onto her and Chris said, "Would you mind terribly if we took a picture with you?" And she said, "No, not at all." So I took Chris's picture and then she got ready for a picture with me. I again said something about the heat and she said, "It's bloody hot in here." Again, I got touched by one of our DOMA goddesses. We took the picture, I got her to sign my bus schedule and mumbled some form of thanks to which she said, "No problem."

We sat down in our seats and realized that we were in the direct line of sight of Patsy and Eddy. We kept exchanging glances with them throughout the night. It was fabulous, sweetie.

Whom else was there being honored during the two hour ceremony? John Stamos for his portrayal as the bisexual emcee in Cabaret. Olympia Dukakis. The actor who plays the gay guy in Six Feet Under. Emmett from Queer as Folk was the keynote speaker. Whoopie gave the awards to Patsy and Eddy.

So they declared the two of them official New Yorkers - they were very touched. I don't think they had expected that. Whoopie was reading the proclamation and was all, "There's a lot of whearases, who-for, what then, your mama." Jennifer took the mike and said, "We're New Yorkers! Finally! We hit the ground shopping two days ago and have one day left and you've all been wonderful and lovely and it means a lot to us to be considered a part of the best city in the world..." at which point she turned to Joanna and said, "Are you going to say anything? Hmmm?" "Because I'm just going to keep going". And she did. I remember her saying, "Thank you for liking the show so much. Which is to say thanks for your intellegence. Thanks for your humor." Joanna took the mike and said, "Jennifer writes all of the funny things and I just read it, so let me just say Cheers mate, thanks a lot." And walked away.

Howls of laughter and cheering abound.

I can die now.

I really can. I've been touched and talked to by Patsy and Eddy in person. Oy.

But the story doesn't end there, no.

There was a post-party at XL, a gay bar and club west of Union Square. Needless to say, there was another huge line there and we walked right in (VIP list, remember) for free and were allowed to walk right back up to the VIP area. One open bar, seven cosmos, and half and hour later, I was besieged by queens dressed as Patsy, one dressed as Eddy, and another dressed as Tittikaka for the look-alike contest. But no drinky drinky with Patsy and Eddy, no - upstairs there were three levels. There was where I was with the open bar. There was another roped off section for VVIPs and then another roped off section behind that where there was a mirror where Patsy and Eddy could look out, but none of us could look in. Of course, we had all hoped to get back there, but to no avail. EVERYONE - by this, I mean all of the stars - were back there and they were only letting in super VVVIIIIPPPPS or something like that. And though I got into a fight with a queen because he wouldn't get the hell out of my way and kept bumping into me and my drink and mostly because I was a woman - he was all, "If you spill that drink on me one more time, you're gonna wear it." I told him to move his fat ass out of the way then...I wasn't going to play half-DOMA. After all, I was pretty near full-DOMA at this point (30minutes x 7 free raspberry cosmos = a DOMA monkee).

P.S. - the queen dressed as Titikaka said that when she went back there to meet them, Pasty and Eddy both were like, "You are absolutely brilliant." And Titikaka said, "Oh no, the two of you are incredibly brilliant." We both went on to say that we were upset that no one dressed as Saffy, but that's just the way it goes.

Needless to say, since we couldn't get to the back back back room, we left. But we left happy and sated with what we had accomplished, which was that we had done what we needed to do and if we were allowed to do anymore, we would have floated home.

So that's what I did the night before I went to the midwest for a wedding. I was in Ohidaho or Mississouri for the weekend, but you bet your ass that when I got home, I popped in those Ab Fab DVDs and lived my Thursday night all over again.

Cheers, all.

-Monkay

Alright. Let's talk about the heat and forest fires, shall we?

Global warming is freakin' killing me. The fact that I sit in sweat when I'm at home - SITTING - is disturbing. I have the sweat glands of a monkey on crack, but this is getting re-freakin'-diculous. It's hot. And it's uncomfortably hot. And I can't sleep at night because it's hot. Oy.

Now the undeniable question is whether or not we can do anything about it. Hmm, Mr. President, drilling Alaska will be good for the environment, meanwhile, while you back out of environmental treaties and deny the existance of global warming, your Americans are slowly sweating themselves to death during one of the lowest periods of rainfall and water supply EVER. Yes, that seems to make a hell of a lot of sense to me. Someone please explain to me how to start a grassroots movement that puts air conditioning in every corner of America in an effort to beat out the slow drying-up of the world. I will carry that banner and wave the flag high and proud. I realize I don't like heat, but even those friends of mine who like heat can't stand this. This entire past week has not dipped below 85 degrees - even at night - and the humidity has a fine way of making every surface sticky. Oy.

I now wish to switch gears and discuss forest fires caused by dimwitted people. In the three that I have heard about (let's make an exception for the lost hiker who wanted to be found - if I was in that situation, I'm not sure I would have done differently), two have done it unintentionally and one by a firefighter so that he could fight it and get money.

Let's talk about the unintentional ones, shall we? Some kids camping and probably drinking (and if you know me, you know that I don't have any personal grudge against drinking - AT ALL) who started a campfire and tried to make sure it was out.

Try water.

And the other woman who got a letter from her "estranged husband" starting the fire - was a parks employee who regulates the fires in the damn park. Sweet Jesus almighty, what the sam hell was she thinking?

Again, try water.

Don't even get me started on the guy who was a fireman who started the fire to get money. For starters, he had a mullet. If the people patrol existed, he would have been bitch-slapped for that a long time ago and maybe this might not have happened. I don't know. A firefighter who doesn't work because there are no fires usually signals a good thing to me. If he wanted money, he should have gotten so by either becoming a full-fledged fireman instead of a volunteer - or gotten another job. Hell, even if he had pimped for a while, he would have made some money.

What the hell is wrong with people?

And did you read about that mother who is now on trial for her life for killing her children by leaving them in a car with the windows up for more than three hours while she got her hair done?

I ask again: what the hell is wrong with people?

I just don't get it. I will again make the case that everyone in the world should be forced to take a test. Those who are competent will be rewarded with cattle prods for those who fail miserably. After a year, those who fail will be eligible to take the test again. Three strikes and you will never EVER get a cattle prod. I think it would work. Don't you?

What the hell is wrong with people?

Now, you're on a bus in Manhattan traffic and the bus driver is darting in between cars and other buses, honking loudly, coming to hard stops, and scaring the holy hell out of you. You happen to notice that the driver is not wearing a seatbelt.

Am I supposed to feel safe because the driver obviously thinks that he's driving safely enough not to warrant a seatbelt?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

I had no choice. I needed to get to 91st between 2nd and 1st and the subway stop as 96th and Lexington - a full five blocks and two avenue blocks away from my destination.

I thought about transferring buses, but then I stopped.

The point of this? I don't know. Other than the fact that if people thought subways were scary - oh no, try the bus.

And if you are about to get on the bus or the subway - please, dear God, please - have your metrocard ready. It's a freakin' pain in the ass to either have to wait for you to swipe or drop the card. For chrissakes, the rest of us do it.

Oh, and if you're leaving the subway and you see someone trying to swipe their metrocard before the train leaves - let them through. They gotta get to where they are going, too.

Sorry. Bad commute today. Oy.

REDEMPTION!

Just a quick update on the "Doggie Doo" bit - yesterday, I was walking Lola (the doggie) and as I proceeded down the street, I noticed an elderly gentleman walking his dog without a leash. As he saw me approaching, he opened his gate and prodded the dog back in the gate to wait for me as I passed. I thanked him and went on my merry way to Lola's favorite spot when I noticed that he was still standing at the gate, urging the dog to stay inside and watching me with a weary eye. Undaunted, we continued. When I got halfway down the street, Lola started to do her business. As she was doing it, I grabbed the plastic bag in my pocket and proceeded to clean up after the dog. As I started, I heard the old man behind me clapping and yelling, "Thank you!" I turned around halfway to see him put both hands up in the air and say again, "Thank you!"

I smiled and replied, "No problem." After all, he was a cute little pooter.

Picking up poop has never been more fun or rewarding.

Now that I have lived in this city for a while and am currently fostering a dog, I have noticed a few things.

For starters, lemme explain fostering a dog 'cause people don't really seem to understand. There are many organizations in NYC that save stray animals. One certain organization allows people to foster the dogs until they find an adoptive home - meaning that the dogs get to leave the kennel and live in a real house while the organization tries to find the dog a full-time home. It gives the dog a chance to get out of jail, have a nice vacation, and live in a house with some love and affection.

So, being the nice person that I am (and actually, because I want a dog but am moving apartments soon), I decided to give this temporary pooch a try. I have only had her for about two weeks now, but I've noticed something strange.

When you have a dog, people talk to you. And they don't just talk to you, they talk in baby talk to the dog first, then you. I have talked to so many people in my neighborhood in the past two weeks - people who always see me around and have never said shit to me - and suddenly, i've got a canine and everyone's my friend.

What the hell is that all about?

I mean, I was living here first, right? And the conversation always goes like this:

neighbor: (in babytalk) "Hi there, little one. You're a good dog, aren't you? He or she?"

me: "She."

neighbor: (back to the babytalk) "Oh, you're such a good girl! You're such a good girl! And a pretty girl, too. (back to me and normal voice) You live around here?"

I'm thinking: no, shithead, I'm just walking the dog in your neighborhood. What the hell do you think?

What I actually say: "Yeah, I live right over there" (point to the building)

neighbor: "Oh."

And while I'm on the subject, can someone please tell me why people don't clean up after their dogs? I mean, it's nasty. Here, in East Harlem, we play "Dodge the Doggie Doo" every time we step out of our building. C'mon people. I clean up after mine, clean up after yours so I don't have to clean up my shoes later. It makes the neighborhood stink and it's just an all around pain in the ass.

Of course, it's not as bad as I make it out to be, it just happens to be nasty and disgusting, that's all.

That takes care of that one.

I'm highly annoyed. Peeved, if you will.

Let's just stop a moment and think about the cars we own (if we do own one). I, for one, own a reliable and friendly Subaru Impreza renamed "The Return of the Donkey". The original was a craptastic 1986 Mazda 626 warwagon that died on me. I'm fairly certain that I'm running my current one into the ground.

Granted, I live in NYC. I really don't need a car. But since I can actually have it for now, there's no reason for me not to, right? I live in a mostly residential neighborhood in Manhattan and there's plenty of alternate-side-of-the-street parking for me. For those of you not on the East Coast, that means that you cannot park one one side of the street on certain days for certain amounts of time so that they can clean the street. Apparently, they've never heard of it on the West Coast. How do you clean the streets?

Anyway, I digress.

So this car of yours. You love it, right? You treat it well, you love it. I love my damn car and it has been broken into five times in the course of two years. I assume it's because I have Delaware plates. Either way, I treat it very well and there's no stopping thug monkeys when they get the urge.

But what I'm pondering is this: if your car has an alarm and it goes off when you are in the vicinity, how long do you wait before turning it off?

Or: if your car has an alarm and you are gone, what happens when it goes off for two hours at 6am, waking up all your neighbors, keeping them awake for two hours, and you are nowhere to be found to turn it off?

The second question is the one that I happen to be obessesed with since I find myself the unwitting and unwilling victim of a car alarm wake up. I mean, someone in my neighborhood has a rooster (don't ask, I can't explain it) and while it cock-a-doodle-doos in the morning, it was nowhere near as bad as this car alarm.

This car alarm was the kind that goes through six (yes, I counted) different sounds in a cycle and repeats itself over and over very loudly. I could probably even mimic the noise at this point. I think it was right outside my window.

And you know the worse part? No one was taking the car. No one was trying to break in, either. Nope. This alarm was probably set off by a pigeon or a school kid on their way to school. That's right, no break-in, no grand auto theft, just something that triggered the alarm to go off.

Oh, and P.S., it would go through about three cycles and stop in the middle of the cycle, right in the middle of one of the six sounds it made. And I would be lying there in bed thinking to myself, "Ah! Finally!"

And then it would pick up three seconds later right where it left off.

Oy.

Which leads me to an important query: do you really need a car alarm if you aren't going to be anywhere in the vicinity to either: a. turn it off or b. stop someone from stealing your car? Because if you aren't going to be around where you park it, does it really matter that you have an alarm or not? I mean, if it's a really determined thug monkey, they would have picked up that you are nowhere around to turn it off. And they might steal the car from your ass, anyway.

So do you and your neighbors a favor. If you aren't going to be home and you leave your car in a residential neighborhood where there is even the remote possibility of your car alarm going off, think about it. Because it's a major pain in the ass for those of us who just live there.

And I'm freakin' exhausted because of it. If I find out who owns that car (which was a 1980's model Tercel painted two different colors - you have got to be kidding me, we don't even have a car alarm on our Mercedes), they are getting an earful from me. Maybe I'll mimic the sounds outside their window at 6am tommorow morning.

Ah, who's kidding. Hopefully, I'll be in bed at 6am tommorow morning, catching up on the lost sleep I got today.

Damnhellass.

Um, okay. Can we please talk about this "American Idol" stuff?

I admit, I got sucked in. Completely. And I don't know how I feel about it. The entertainment industry is a difficult place. And it should come as no surprise that feelings will be hurt. So I found it amusing. Completely. I think it's good to see so many people with potential and the balls to actually do what they did.

But what I want to talk about is Paula Abdul.

I loved her. Loved. And, no kidding, just a week ago or so, my roommate and I were talking about "the good 'ol days" (something that a number of us in our early 20's are eager to do because we suddenly feel old - poor us, I know). And I was wondering what the hell happened to her. I was reminiscing about the video she did with McScatCat and suddenly, she shows up on "American Idol".

If that's what happened to Paula Abdul, what the hell happened to Tiffani? Or Martika?

And people wonder why I drink.