2C (not two cents)

8th February 2010

Text reblogged from absoluticris hazza blog.

absoluticris:

wow…i just finished watching the remaining commercials i missed last nite, and it seems that casual misogyny is all the rage at this year’s super bowl.

8th February 2010

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who dat?

so, i’m not a culture snob.

whatever. if you like football, fine. i don’t care if your taste in movies leans to Michael Bay and your taste in TV is Big Brother-ish.

i don’t care if you like chain restaurants, shop at big boxes, serve frozen foods to your family or pick up tabloids in the checkout line.

i don’t care if you like clear channel or own a coach bag.

whatever.

go to Disneyland! i think it’s fun. especially the tea cups. JJ has made me sicker than i ever thought possible. sicker than when you mix tequila and wine.

do whatever you want. i don’t care.

at the end of the day, i want to know you. i want to hear what you think, feel what you feel, understand your point of view. good grief am i tired of the snobs.

oh, and in case you were cleaning out your cave closets, the Saints won. who dat!? and sip a daiquiri in a go cup.

6th February 2010

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the times 'who dats!' vs the no fun league

i keep watching this clip. possibly six times now. every time it makes me smile.

3rd February 2010

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candy hearts

this is not my annual anti-Valentine’s Day polemic. i know. you’re so disappointed.

last week, i was in a back and forth conversation with my professor about the problem “unprecedented” presents for a writer. if i say something is unprecedented, if i delimit it with words, then it becomes commonplace. by talking about it, i’ve moved it from unprecedented to precedent.

so, when i talk about the unprecedented poverty of Haiti, the next time we see abject poverty on the news, it will either be compared to Haiti, so it’s relationally like Haiti where Haiti becomes the benchmark for all poverty, or our emotional response is muted because we’re already familiar with this kind of suffering. we’ve seen it before. change the channel.

as a rule, i don’t talk about JJ. so, you and i are talking or whatever, and other than the oblique reference (“floral prints aren’t popular in our house”), you’re not going to hear me say anything about ‘real’ about him. so you know he’s not into floral prints. meh. who is?

i say i’m not particularly romantic, but really what i mean is that i’m not interested in the public performance of romance. i don’t find any meaning in wearing his ring, displaying our photos, keeping flowers on my desk or whatever else signals the people around me that we’re a “happy couple.” in addition to there be something very ugly and exclusionary about the happy couples versus pathetic single people cultural bias, i just want to keep as much of us to myself as i can. why set the precedent?

do i genuinely believe no one has ever felt this way, yes. so you can see the risk to putting it into words.

instead, i’m just going to have a Team JJ tshirt made. then maybe i’ll hang a photo of him in my locker. and start dotting my i’s with hearts. at least it would make him laugh. and i live to hear his laugh.

2nd February 2010

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multi-tasking

i’m busily trying to ignore that i’m too close to the edge of things.

i’ve decided to make “mitts of the dystopian future” for everyone in my monday night coven instead. i ordered six different shades of this yarn. photos to come.

i’m betting right now you’re wishing you had a monday night coven. but you don’t.

i’m also thinking of making a casserole. i have all the wrong ingredients,  but that doesn’t make me less hungry. so, we’ll see about my improv skills.

i’m working on a mini-lecture with slides on kairos and the rhetorical analysis essay. how do you make something you adore, but everyone else loathes, interesting? i’m thinking of bringing food for the class. maybe a bribe will help. as long as it’s not an experimental casserole.

also, there’s the small matter of the 1.07 i received for my class evals last semester. scale is 1 to 5, with 1 being perfect and 3 as the neutral response. i’m thinking someone is going to want to talk to me about how this happened since i’m well outside the mean.

in the meantime, someone turn the heat on because it is cold in here ;)

31st January 2010

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JJ and world peace

JJ: still depressed, little girly?

me: *sigh* yeah. boo. it’s hard.

JJ: *hug* you’re ok.

me: *sigh*

JJ: *sagely* you know, you’d be happier if you listened to more ska …

31st January 2010

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cupcakes are good

that’s all. nothing else. cupcakes = good.

30th January 2010

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why are you so terribly disappointing?

via Melete who says she’s exhausted by the cynicism. me too.

really, i am tired of the whining and sniping. i like my life.

29th January 2010

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flinty

ok, so i’m numb.

i’m also super-selective about what i say. friend asked me yesterday how i was. i shrugged ( i look like hell, so it’s not exactly a secret), then i said Sam died. i didn’t say the niece took a pair of scissors i gave her to her arm and is sporting 12 stitches. guess she met some nice cops and paramedics.

i don’t say that there are other things going on in my head that are worse that i won’t talk about at all. to anyone.

i’m going to meet a friend for coffee. and maybe i’ll talk to her or maybe i won’t.

28th January 2010

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Sam

Melete had to euthenize Sam last night. it hurts just to write it.

she didn’t expect it. she came home to find him really sick. she took him to the emergency clinic, his liver was bleeding, the vet/surgeon tried to save him but came to the conclusion that the fixes wouldn’t hold for long. she was alone in the middle of the night trying to deal with this. it hurts to write that too. i’m so glad she’s relocating with law school in the boyfriend’s city and a super quick and cheap hop from ours because, while she’s been brave, it’s time to end this stupid living arrangement.

Sam was a good dog. he thought i was the magic turkey fairy. he thought the mailman was lunch. he thought cats and squirrels were toys. he thought his people were the best people ever. he didn’t sleep on the couch unless no one was home. taking him for a walk was a ridiculous exercise in restraining him from chasing after everything that moved or smelled interesting. he was in love with Melete. he thought the world spun for her.

it used to crack me up the way his nap slowly drifted around the house throughout the day, following the path of the sun. he snored. loudly. hilarious. his giant paws wiggling, he’d wake himself up snoring and then shoot anyone in the room an evil look like we’d done it. of sleeping, i’d wake up in the morning, curled on my side, with Sam staring into my face… play with the dog. play with the dog. play with the dog. i’d say, “how long have you been standing there staring at me?” “woof.” play with the dog, now.

love you, Sam. hope you get all the turkey you want and a never ending supply of squirrels, mailmen and cats to chase.