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Monday, Jun. 27, 2005 - 9:01 p.m.

McDonald's reader board message today:

Come in and vote for our new lobby design!

In Montana, even our McDonald's are democratic. Next week we'll be voting on whether or not McDonald's new apple and walnut salad is just a poor man's waldorf salad.

Monday, Jun. 27, 2005 - 1:15 p.m.

It's more than valid to ask how much the Bush administration cares about and respects women, women's rights, and women's health.

I cannot think of anything more cruel than forcing a woman to carry her dead baby for obsure moral principles that value the idea of life more than a living, breathing human being.

Monday, Jun. 27, 2005 - 12:27 p.m.

I gladly take place as one among the masses that is anxiously awaiting the release of the sixth Harry Potter book and the fourth Harry Potter movie. The latter, of course, doesn't inspire such dreamy passing hours, the plot already committed to memory afte multipler readings of the corresponding book.

In fact, the fourth big-screen adaption is bound to cause a few cringes for the aesthetically sensitive. While Emma Watson's Hermione Granger looks as sweet and pretty as ever, appearantly Rupert Grint's Ronald Weasley and Daniel Radcliffe's Harry Potter are trying to pass as homeless moppets. Everyone knows that if Harry Potter's mother were still alive, she would make him cut his hair. While Grint has beautiful red hair, wearing it long only emphasizes the clownish charateristics of the hestitant Ron Weasley.

The fourth book and, I assume, the fourth movie are the last vestiges of Harry Potter's tolerable pre-teen self, before he becomes the frustrated frustrating teenager that every living boy morphs into at fifteen. The long, unkempt hair only calls forth the annoyance a whole movie early. Why make that moment come any sooner than it has to?

Wednesday, Jun. 22, 2005 - 11:06 p.m.

Like so many others, I too am appalled and pathetically enthralled with the Fates' latest experiment in the science that is human stupidity. While I don't doubt that Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes are probably in the throws of celebrity love, it appears Cruise's sincerity in his obssession with his beloved is a distance second to the sincerity in his belief that anyone and everyone should care. He is confused as to why the masses he supposes are his fans doubt his ability to comprehend what love is? That's because his actions and voice scream "Look at me! Look! At! Me!" What is a narcissus? Tom Cruise.

Monday, Jun. 13, 2005 - 4:02 p.m.

Went to visit SuperGeniusKid and her sister today, just for a moment. Crouched in their barely-green garden, they were holding their two new baby bunnies. But, SGK and sister were holding the bunnies on the bunnies' backs, force-feeding them some sort of dead weed. Then, SGK's sister proceeded to poke the dead weed in her bunny's eye.

Ahahahahah! Next time, I swear, I will threaten to call the humane society to report torture being inflicted on these poor, helpless, furry creatures.

It is true; one shouldn't give a child anything alive.

Monday, Jun. 13, 2005 - 2:17 p.m.

This morning I had to take my kitty into the vet. Paws has lost 5 pounds in the last few months. He's skinny, doesn't eat or drink as much and has definitely slowed down considerably. At 13 years, he is no longer a young little cat, but we needed to know that he wasn't in pain with feline leukemia for some such illness.

Nix on the leukemia, and now that Paws is home safe and sound (after a shocking minimum of his distressed groan/meow), we are awaiting further results on his tests.

I am not sure how I will react when Paws passes away. He's been such a staple in our lives. I always suspected that Paws would curl up in a ball out in his favorite sunny spot and pass away. Of course, after today's morning spent at the vet, he shot me look that said, "I can take care of myself, dammit. Just pet me, that's it."

Sweet, contrary kitty. He is the Lord of his universe.

Sunday, Jun. 12, 2005 - 12:31 p.m.

After a pathetically long hiatus from filling up this journal with wise and interesting comments about my absolutely boring life, I just have this to say:

Get over yourselves, Jack Shafer and Peter Landesman!

Tuesday, May. 17, 2005 - 7:36 p.m.

I haven't died yet. Or fallen into the maze of insanity that 9 hours a day of interaction with a 5 month old (and 5 hours with a 5 year old) might cause. The first day of solo babysitting went smoothly. SuperGeniusKid and her baby brother were darling and sweet. Today, well, they were less so, and I was very tired. Around 1 pm, I hit a wall where I had a hard time deciding if I should change SGK's brother's diaper or feed him and which would most likely lead to a nap.

At lunch, my father explained to SGK that boy hummingbirds are the ones with all the color. Girl hummingbirds are grey and fairly drab looking.
Later she asked me, "Are there only girls and boys?"

"In all animals," I asked. She nodded. "No, I said, "There are some people who are not boys or girls, and some who are both. They are called hermaphrodites."

SGK wrinkled her young, wise brow, and asked, "My friend Shirley* has short hair. What is she?"

Guess I don't have to worry that her parents would be angry at my teaching her the word hermaphrodite.

*Name has been changed to protect the identity of the victim a 5 year old's society stereotypes. And because I can't remember her name.

Sunday, May. 15, 2005 - 10:28 p.m.

My mother has had to extend her visit to the Midwest. Appearantly, my grandmother married into the meanest family on the planet.

That means for the next three days I will be at the behest of one 5 year old and one 5 month old. If you don't hear from me after that, please come looking for me. The wee ones might end up eating me alive.

Pray for me.

Friday, May. 13, 2005 - 12:17 p.m.

This month has been hell. First, my family is attending my cousin's wedding in Texas next weekend. While I find travelling inherently stressful, going to Texas will be enjoyable.

Then my grandmother's husband died last weekend. My grandmother has been married three times. My real grandfather died before I was even born. Her third and late husband was, to be very, very honest, was a jerk. Life treated him badly, and he treated everyone else badly as a result. It is true to say that his passing away was a blessing for him, for he suffered a lot of pain, and for my grandmother, who suffered too much verbal abuse from him.

But, this meant my mother had to return to the Midwest to help straighten things out, and that is just a hellish job that no one should have to suffer. My grandmother, who is sweet and lovely, is also 90, stubborn, and weepy. My mother is stressed out and is looking at having to return to the Midwest again this summer. And, she wants to drag me along.

I want to help my mother, but I do not want to travel to the Midwest to deal with impossible family members. Because, as impossible as they think they are, I can be tens times more impossible than they, if I so choose. Thus, if I go along, I run a high risk of pissing everyone off and not really giving a shit. My mother is known for "stirring up trouble" in my family, mostly because she doesn't live in a constant state of denial. Yet, she does her best to maintain a diplomatic approach to situations created by our extended, passive aggressive family.

I have no desire to be diplomatic. I love my family and my grandmother very much, but if they even try to mess around with mother's good intentions, I will go nuclear. And, really, the women in my family shouldn't complain (too much) because their genetic make up made me this way.

If I do end up going to the Midwest (albeit, somewhat against my will) this summer, I am going to have a shirt made that says something along the lines of "don't mess with me unless you're ready to have the proverbial shit kicked out of you."

Just think, I have at least another month to brew my resentment.

Saturday, May. 07, 2005 - 10:08 p.m.

This evening I attended a small college graduation party for a childhood classmate and neighbor. Now, this is a lesson in cultures and the amount of time one spends away from one's hometown or home state culture. My classmate/neighbor/friend bought himself a rifle for a graduation present. Now, he is completely safe and sane and well versed in the proper way to use a gun, but I cannot for the life of me understand the appeal of any sort of firearm. He also has a certain appreciation for shooting gophers, thus his fulfilling his own role in vermin population control. Even though I have heard of many of my male high school classmates engaging in this activity, it totally grosses me out. I don't even think there is anything particularly wrong with the act. Just, why? Isn't there a more humane way of controlling the gopher population? I also can't comprehend killing a living thing that isn't a fly, spider, or other form of small creature with too many legs.

Then, what really bothered me, was other parents saying how they bought their sons or daughters rifles for presents. I don't like guns much, but hunting doesn't bother me, especially in local cultures where hunting safety class is practically a rite of passage. I have issues with guns of the assualt and automatic variety. Still, why give a gun as a gift? Shouldn't purchasing a gun be a bigger deal? Shouldn't the person who will be shooting the gun have a bit more responsibilty in proving his or her, well, responsibility?

I think an object that can be used to kill should be more closely regulated. And sure, most anything can be used to kill another (always watch out for the guy with the hidden shower head), guns serve no other real purpose. As for guns purely for learning to aim precisely, go bowling, learn bocce ball, play tennis. Guns are dangerous at all times, and it takes a responsible, trustworthy person to be able to understand just what it means to have that power.

My friend understands that responsibility, as do many others. But, our culture too often glosses over that responsibility. Then we have to take responsibility for many other, sad events.

Saturday, May. 07, 2005 - 10:06 p.m.

How do you explain the meaning of the word funky to a five year old? Sure she is a SuperGenius, but she was born in 1999, almost a completely different millenium than the 70s.

Friday, May. 06, 2005 - 9:57 p.m.

You know you are a true follower of The Manolo when you look at a pair of disconnected human display legs on the Home Shopping Network and look first and foremost at the shoes instead of the results of the tanning solution on sale. Call me a believer.

Thursday, May. 05, 2005 - 11:06 a.m.

The five week adventure of babysitting a five month baby and five year old SuperGeniusKid has begun. I love SGK, but if she tells me one more time how I am not taking care of her baby brother properly, I will have to give her soy chocolate milk for lunch. That's right, I am a mean babysitter.

She called me bossy yesterday. Right, she's a five year old who tells my 55 year old mother how to feed a baby, and I'm the one who's bossy. Take a clue, child!

***

In the mean time, I spent last weekend in Canada with my parents. The liddle bruder's lacrosse team qualified for their league's championships. Plus, my brother won a well-deserved award for his skill. I can't say it enough; my little brother kicks ass!

Every time I see the liddle bruder, I miss him. While he spent two years (my first two in college) as a pseudo only child, I have had no such experience as being the only offspring in the house until this past year. I tell you, I envy not those who are only children. I have realized there is a comradere between siblings that comes from sharing the same family experiences. If I am annoyed with my parents (Me? Never!), the liddle bruder will undoubtedly be the one who understands.

And everyone knows, comiserating is the best form of therapy.

Thursday, May. 05, 2005 - 11:02 a.m.

What can I say? My little brother is PNCLL B - All Conference 2nd Team Selections Specialist FOGO, and he kicks ass.

Wednesday, Apr. 20, 2005 - 12:19 a.m.

I recently rented Hotel Rwanda and must say it had to be the best movie last year, of the last two years, hell, of the last decade. The film was robbed of an Oscard, as was Don Cheadle. If you don't appreciate this movie, you have absolutely no soul.

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