I Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself

Judith Warner's Walking the Abortion Plank. The bit on the DNC platform is especially good. 

We Can, We Will, and We Must

The Democrats put on one hell of a show this week, and I for one, could not be prouder, more excited, or more inspired. The ghosts of lost elections passed delivered knock-out speeches and finally put to bed the looming attacks that marred their campaigns while simultaneously deconstructing McCain and putting forth Obama - Biden as the ticket to tomorrow. It looks like the Dems ate their Wheaties, and that Obama and his team have inspired not just the everyday Americans but the top dogs in the Party as well. And while I still have the churning ball of desperate fear burning bright in my stomach, I say to the GOP, "Bring It On!"

However, to MSNBC, CNN and most especially Fox News, I say "bite me." Not eloquent, but it's practically Shakespeare compared to their commentary and coverage of the Convention. After five minutes my family and I (and many others we've chatted with) were plainly fed up with the lackluster attention they paid to the actual goings-on and the commentary they provided which made me feel distinctly like they weren't listening at all to the speeches and were on the secret payrolls of the GOP. I nearly threw tomatoes at the TV. C-SPAN was clearly the way to go as they actually covered (wait for the shock) the convention! I'll eat my boots if someone can show me just one clip of decent coverage given by the other news networks.

Continuing with news coverage, like any good liberal family, we preferred to get our de-brief from Jon Stewart and friends, who wonderfully lambasted all the goings-on (though sadly did not pick up on some trickster's idea to play the song Addicted to Love immediately following Bill Clinton's speech--clearly top on the list of things I am both wildly sorry while also profoundly grateful that everyone neglected to cover). Tonight we watch Bill Maher's HBO show, Real Time, which was equally good and Maher made some particularly intelligent points, though I certainly did not agree with everything he said, and found a number of his comments on Sarah Whosiwhatsits (new VP candidate for the right) to be more sexist than aptly critical.

And speaking of Sarah Palin, I think my sister had the best point of the night when she responded to the debate over whether criticisms of her experience are valid when Tim Kaine, who was in the running for the Democratic VP slot, has also had only 1.5 years of gubernatorial experience by saying, essentially, that it's not that Pallin only has 1.5 years in office, but that she's an unknown, who had done nothing till now to be thrust into the national spotlight, unlike the Democratic contenders. Or as I would rephrase, when Kaine was floated, the country reacted by being interested to see how he would fare, and by debating the pros and cons; whereas when Palin was announced, even the most experienced Washington pundits were scratching their heads, reaching for the GOP Who's Who guide and a map, and asking bewilderedly, "Who? Who?!?" 

Not to mention that she supports teaching creationism in schools, is staunchly anti abortion, and is a lifelong member of the NRA--a group that fights tooth and nail to make it as easy as humanly possible for crazies and criminals alike to obtain as many different kinds of guns as can be imagined by the manufacturers, including ones that rain bullets and no respectable hunter or sportsman would ever consider using. And as for abortion, at the end of the day, if you're interested in saving as many lives as possible, then know this: Before 1973, it was estimated that between 1.2 and 1.6 illegal abortions were performed each year (abortions were already legal in 17 states; the 1.6 number comes from extensive research my dad did in the St. Paul, MN library). Last year, the number was 1.4 (it has actually risen in the past few years, due, no doubt to the dubious sex education funded by Bush -- and don't be fooled by anti-abortion websites that claim upwards of 26 to 40 million abortions each year. That would be hard to achieve, seeing as only about 6 million women in America become pregnant each year) . It's exactly the same. Legality makes no difference, here. Where it does make a difference is in the number of women who die during the procedure. Before Roe, 7,000 women died every year from illegal procedures, in the vast majority of years after Roe, no women die from legally performed procedures. So if you're really looking to save lives, then I think the numbers are pretty clear. 

In closing, I'd like to mention just how good Obama and Biden look together. They are so presidential, so visually strong and compelling. They're people I have confidence in AND would love to hang with. And while I'd rather this didn't factor into the way people vote, it's so cosmetic, I know it does and I can't help feeling very encouraged by their combined charisma. Especially in the face of a Republican ticket that resembles more an over-the-hill grandpa proudly introducing his daughter at the latest DAR debutante ball than serious contenders for high office.

This is one woman who, though desperately awaiting the glass ceiling being smashed once and for all, would much rather not have it be done by a woman seeking to snatch away not only my rights and freedoms, but every last drop of what it means to be truly American.

FAVORITE SOMEECARD EVERRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!

I Emote Through someecards.com

My Daily Ritual

Sometimes I feel like my blog is a clearinghouse for interesting New York Times articles, but then again, when the one inviolate morning ritual is a perusal of the Times, it is inevitable that I will want to share the best and brightest writings of the week. Today I was moved to add Judith Warner's blog, Domestic Disturbances, to my blog roll (see at right), in hopes that some or all of you may wander over periodically to bear witness to her brilliance and insight. This would certainly save time in linking to her each and every time she writes something spot on. The camp article, which is her most recent, is intriguing, but scroll down to her July 17th post, Trust Buster, on John McCain and women.

Other great articles from this week include:

Tom Friedman's Op-Ed, Drilling in Afghanistan

Salon.com's Broadsheet (not the Times!) on Obama and Late Term Abortion. This one is particularly worthy as it addresses Obama's very concerning comments on reproductive rights and politicking that is frankly offensive and giving pause to many a woman this election season, myself included. Bottom line: don't gamble my life and my rights to score political points. It's repellant.

This week's office favortie on YouTube:

The Other Side of DC

I saw two people get arrested last night! Actually, Kate, Joanna, and I walked in as the nab was in progress but there was definite patting-down going on and the possibility of mini-pursuit and tussle (we couldn't really see that part that well). We were getting on the Metro at Dupont, and as we glided down the escalator, a cop cuffing one of the two suspects came into view (cue my very lady-like exclamation: "Oh my!"). Standing next to them was a somewhat disgruntled, somewhat nonplussed man who I can only assume was waiting hopefully for the return of his property (I'm guessing a wallet, but that is pure speculation). 

Then, as we we descended the second escalator to the platform, a veritable parade of cops escorted a second suspect up the other escalator (hence our obstructed view) to a round of applause from fellow commuters. Sadly, a polite inquiry as to what happened yielded no information--that woman was downright unfriendly and unhelpful--but Kate used her always handy camera phone to document as best she could. She should be blogging with photographic evidence forthwith. 

Definitely an exciting night. 

Rendered Speechless

Quite possibly the most fascinatingly bizarre incident of the past week is chronicled in this Washington Post article about a recent hearing on the Hill regarding the military's Dont Ask, Don't Tell policy. Amazingly, one of the witnesses who advocates ousting all non-standard issue heterosexuals from the military really put her foot in it by saying exactly what she thinks on the issue. I guess hearing it said out loud finally exposes to everyone just how absurd their position is. Truly unbelieveable that people think this way. I'm still sputtering.

This witness claims that gays and lesbians would create an immoral, sexualized atmosphere in the military--but many have been serving in the military (though not openly) without such detrimental effects. And clearly this woman has never spent time with any gays or lesbians because then she would know she's just plain wrong. All groups of people have spectrums of sexual preferences, but no one group is significantly randier than any other. Not to mention that heterosexual people commit vast quantities of sexual violence, should we ban all heterosexuals from the military just in case they will add a sexually charged tone? I think the witness would say no. What an idiot.

Maureen Dowd's column on Barak Obama vs. John McCain is also entertaining and illuminating. But I'm still P.O.'s at Obama for callously sacrificing his strong stance on reproductive justice in a bid to win centrist votes. What a stupid move--the left (and much fo the center) are spitting mad, and the people he's attempting to woo are far more right of center than he obviously thinks and most of them don't actually consider banning abortion their top focus.

We've come so far?

More than anything else, this video just made me smile and reminisce:

He's pretty good, isn't he?

Today I went with Joanna to see Al Gore speak and announce his challenge to America--to get 100% of its energy from renewable resources within ten years. It was a great speech (no robots in sight), and made a lot of sense. At the end of the day, why be wasteful and pollutive if you don't have to be? Why stick to an antequated form of energy when better, newer, more efficient sources are being made available for less money? We used to be the captains of industry, the pioneers of innovation--and now Americans are running scared from being the vanguards of energy reform. What happened? Where's the adventurous American spirit? And where's the pragmatism that says high oil prices are here to stay, so let's find an actual long-term solution.

In other news, I haven't been blogging much for the simple reason that my laptop totally bombed out on me. The harddrive went kaput, so there was a major rescue operation enacted at the Apple store last weekend and I am due to pick up the (hopefully) repaired machine this Saturday. Here's hoping all has gone well.

The Happiest 4 Minutes in the World

I found this video off a New York Times article chronicling this new YouTube phenomenon. The article helps put the video in context (a very cool context at that), so maybe read, then watch. You won't regret it. The music is fabulous, too.



Back from my whirlwind 10-day trip. Washington State is incredibly beautiful and if I ever have kids, they're going to camp Kalsman. Facebook has photos, but here's a look at the new Seattle fashions, I was thinking of maybe getting some for myself:

and my favorite--I have a dress that would be perfect with these!

fun time had by all.

Please, Make Your Kid Stop!

One of the OpEds that ran in today's Times was a wonderfully personal insight into what is happening in flood-ravaged towns in the Midwest. Particularly interesting is that it is written by a local contractor who must have simply taken the time to write down his thoughts and impression -- and in doing so gave the rest of the country, and even the world, a remarkably clear window into his experience. This man should consider a second career in short stories. 

In other news, Huzzah! Kate returned with me today to the pottery painting place, so my great fear earlier this week has, thankfully, not been actualized. In fact, we each painted three pieces all of which I fully expect to be placed on the "Wall of Fame" -- except my rice bowl which inadvertently ended up looking like an interpretation of Dante's Inferno. No joke, totally accidental. Maybe that one gets gifted. 

Unfortunately, our long stay subjected us to some of the most annoying children walking the planet today. I really don't understand how parents can put up with such annoying behaviors, let alone lack the courtesy to allow it to continue and disturb every other person in a 30 mile radius (which, I swear, is how far this one girl's horrid voice carried). Please parents, for the love of God,  have mercy on us all! Kate and I are seriously considering authoring a book--an Emily's Post Guide of sorts on how to remember that you and your children are not the only beings walking the earth. We'll title it: You're Child Is A Brat: Things That Others Want To Tell You But Are Too Polite--So We Will. It may be difficult to entirely fit on a cover, but the whole sentiment is important, I think. 

My time of day is the (almost) night time of day

My favorite time of day is the hour before sunset. The light becomes golden, the shadows turn warm, and there is often a friendly breeze swirling the air. I can easily imagine myself swinging gently in a hammock on a porch as the trees sway happily nearby, their bark still warm from the lingering sun. I'm holding a cup of tea as I look up from my book to catch the first tinges of pink creeping into the blue sky. Magic things happen in this time. 

As I walked home today, enjoying the glorious pre-sunset weather, a woman stopped me on U street and asked me to look at the back side of this young guy who had just passed by--an unusual request to be sure. But she was so astonished by just how low he was wearing his shorts (completely under his butt) that she had to share the sight with someone--anyone!--and I was the closest at hand. I had to agree with her, these kids these days--what on earth are they thinking? Besides, if you're going to let it all hang out like that, at least pick a more interesting pair of underwear than plain maroon. Even plaid would be more exciting. 

OK, so you're no Jackson Pollock

I think Kate is going to flake out on me and our new hobby. Don't you? Here she is during her second attempt at making a grand masterpiece out of the post-it holder:

And here she is after deciding that said second attempt is not nearly good enough. (Evidence of her gusto in painting is clearly visible on her lovely shirt--a more beleaguered Kate I have yet to see.)

I'm all for being a perfectionist (as anyone who knows me knows), but I am fearful that Kate's pursuit of the do-it-yourself that looks distinctly un-done-by-yourself is going to frustrate her right into never coming again. And then I will be stuck being one of the quirky ladies who comes into the shop and sits by herself for hours fanatically painting teapots with an aim to rival Sevres. I need friends to make me look sane! There's social-safety in numbers! Please, Kate, I beg of you--do not give up the hobby! What else are you going to do!?! Philately???

Smart Women Heart Obama

Frank Rich's column yesterday, Angry Women Heart McCain, laughingly challenges the claims being bandied about the airwaves that Hillary-supporting women will be so angry over their loss that they will turn to McCain instead of Obama. Sure, if they're stupid. But as Rich points out, most women are not and most women know that McCain is just plain anti-woman--especially when it comes to issues of reproductive justice. No way are democratic women going to almost literally shoot themselves in the foot (really, they'd be aiming at a place about 2.5 feet higher) this November. I'd be the first to admit, even complain as I did a couple days ago, that women have been woefully inept at exercising political power, but I can hardly believe that when it comes time to pull the lever, mass droves of Hillary supporters would pick that torture victim who voted for torture over the man who was endorsed by NARAL even before Hillary was out of the race. They may be frustrated, but not stupid. 

Here's a shirt I like

Far From Victory

Now that Hillary Clinton has endorsed Barack Obama and the Democrats have solidified the top slot on their November ticket, much attention is finally being paid to Clinton's treatment as a female on the presidential campaign trail. The verdict of all this scrutiny is, appropriately, a condemnation of both the American media and the American people.

Judith Warner, a consistently insightful guest columnist at the New York Times, blogged last week in “Women in Charge, Women Who Charge” that Clinton's candidacy brought into stark relief the pervasive discrimination and hatred aimed at women today that far too often goes unchecked. As many observers, including Katie Couric, note, had Obama faced the racial equivalents of the heckling and mocking protests Clinton endured, this country would have been outraged and ashamed and launched into cathartic introspection.

Sexism is alive and well in America. It permeates every part of society, and what we see in the media is only a reflection of what occurs daily. Not only in harassment in the workplace (which was made more difficult to combat by a November 2006 6th Circuit Court decision) or violence aimed at women (one out of every five women in the U.S. has been raped), but also in the words and images we allow women to be referred to by and the burden we disproportionately place on our girls to maintain their chastity.

For years, there have been those who have claimed victory in the feminist fight for equality. And though we have clearly made great strides, there is something deeper that remains elusive. The attitudes that prevail, the constricting societal classifications of what it means to be female, and the passive acceptance of discriminatory words and actions are all poisonous roadblocks in women’s quest for full actualization and equal status. That we sat on our couches and watched disgusting media attacks on Clinton that were deeply personal and far removed from any campaign saliency without instinctively jumping up to call the news networks in indignant fury makes us all culpable.

Women are the majority of the population and of the vote, but it seems we are behaving like an incidental minority, asking, “Please, sir, may I have some more?”

Are women held hostage by the ever-increasing objectification of them by society? By the burden that comes with the joy of being the gender that gives birth? Or by the legacy of millennia of stark divisions of labor? Can we break through the tough patina of the status quo? Representative Carolyn Maloney’s new book, Rumors of Our Progress Have Been Greatly Exaggerated, addresses just how far women have left to go before we can truly declare victory and why this is a fight that is not only imperative for women and society today, but for the substantive quality of life for our daughters as well.

Now that Clinton is available fodder no more, the media is gearing up for an anticipated flurry of attacks on Michelle Obama. We all must demand of our leaders and of ourselves intolerance for misogyny wherever it may arise, and particularly in the unrepentant media. If we do not actively confront it, what are we inadvertently condoning and even encouraging? What are we saying to our women and to our daughters?

What are we saying to ourselves?

Hello Dolly, It's so nice to have you back where you belong

I've decided that it's time for me to resurrect the blog. It's been two years and my inner muse is itching to break free. I wonder also if it might have something to do with the onset of summer. 

The only hitch is figuring out what to write about. Clearly some cross posting of my work blog entries will happen, but with the inclusion of partisan rantings, election-related diatribes and inappropriate commentary. I'm looking forward to it. 

Now that Clinton has endorsed Obama and the Dems have a lone candidate, it is time to crank up my own political machine. I've been searching for great Obama paraphernalia, but I have yet to find the one T-shirt that is hip enough for me, but inspiring enough that merely by walking the streets of DC sporting such striking attire will motivate others to vote Blue come November. I really do have such high ambitions for my politically-motivated attire. Ideas are welcome. 

I've already begun to plan an election night party, complete with Obama cookies, themed decorations and perhaps Illinois foods (if I can find any that won't immediately result in a coronary). This is going to be the event of the year if I have anything to say about it. New York friends, mark your calendars!

If you're mourning the loss of Hillary Clinton, my condolences. Here's a speech of his that may help you feel better about getting behind the presumptive nominee. 

Meanwhile, I am mourning the 4 month wait until new episodes of Bones. I'm not sure I'm going to survive with all my present sanity intact. I'm thinking of attempting to get my fix by reading the books the show is based on. I am that desperate, not that I don't already have several books waiting on my nightstand. Over-achievement and procrastinating don't mix as well as I originally thought. 

Free-Pizza Friday

It is a statistical inevitability that when you are experiencing famine-degree hunger (when your stomach is so empty, the sloshing of your digestive juices echoes), you stuff yourself voraciously when the food finally arrives. In anticipation of a conference call, The Powers That Be generously offered to cover lunch. At the point when over-the-cubicle-wall banter about what may possibly have happened to the delivery man to cause such a horrid delay was reaching deafening levels and everyone was staring at their hands, contemplating which finger to gnaw on to stave off death, the pizza finally arrived. We all descended on the pies like wolves at a hunt and proceeded to stuff our faces silly. The kind of lightning-fast food shovel where in under thirty seconds you've managed to eat two whole slices with a combined topping count of 87 and total calorie count of "don't even bother, you can't process it all." Inevitably, you end up with a bowling ball of cheese and grease that sits in your belly like old police informants would sit in the East River after being given a pair of concrete shoes by their mob relatives. The result is almost as painful as the bone-jarring hunger and is infinitely more difficult to rid yourself of.

This is the curse of the Free-Pizza Friday.

Le Salle de Bain

So, the interesting thing about public bathrooms that you frequent is that you always end up with a favorite stall. At work, I absolutely have one. The toilet is not too high (which mercifully means that your feet don't dangle as they do in the middle stall) nor too low (which always makes you feel like the early growth spurt kid in the pre-K class who has to move the step-stool to the side--not that I was ever that kid, just heard stories). I've gotten used to the wider-than normal gap between the door and the frame and have discovered its usefulness for determining the identity of those who walk in after me--it's always supremely important to know who else is in the bathroom with you. I've used MY stall about 99% of the time, and those who know me KNOW that that must add up to a considerable number of uses--clearly I have gotten comfortable with the familiar.

As such, it's always so jarring to walk into the loo and find MY stall occupied by someone else. It's all I can do to not stand paralyzed with consternation in front of the stall door--which, in light of the aforementioned gap between door and frame, would be extremely rude bordering on the voyeuristic. Then I am forced to use one of the other stalls where the toilets are unnecessarily high and feel far less comfortable than my usual one. I hate being in the middle, it's like having surround-sound of people peeing which is never good and intrudes too much upon the mystery I like to maintain between me, my co-workers and those other people on the other side of the floor. The handicapped stall is entirely too big--I keep expecting an echo of every sound I make: ripping toilet paper reverberating off the tile walls, the flush creating such sonic vibrtions that I'm litterally jarred out of the stall. Besides, nobody wants to be the dunce that keeps the handicapped person waiting when they have to urinate. They have enough hardships as it is, don't need to add worrying about pants-wetting to the mix.

I've even considered adding homey decorations to my stall--why not? The middle one has an old no smoking sign in it (ironically the paper is all brown suggesting that bathroom visitors have not been heeding it's declaration). I say my stall deserves at least a reminder to flush and wipe the seat.

Speaking of, I cannot fathom why it happens--with alarming frequency--that you walk into a public stall to find pee all over the seat. First off, the toilet hole is quite large, HOW DO YOU MISS? Second, on the offchance that there is some alcohol, cannibis or other behavior-impairing substance in your system, and you do end up dribbling on the seat, have the good sense to wipe it off! You have to turn around and face the toilet to flush anyway, clearly you must see whatever residue you have left behind. Who on this earth looks at the toilet seat, sees evidence of their recent bathroom activities and decides to leave it there as a special gift for the stall's next occupant? My favorite is when they know there's a line and that they will inevitably come face to face with said next occupant as they leave the stall. Every woman knows that proper busy-bathroom ettiquette includes swiftly moving toward the stall that is soon to be vacated--as soon as you see the door start to swing open, you make a bee-line for it--getting in faster means getting out faster which means the next poor victim of male-bathroom architects will be able to relieve herself all the more swiftly. But this ineveitably results in brushing by the former stall occupant. Those women who look you in the eye as they exit, despite knowing they have left a puddle on the seat for YOU to clean up, are just sick, twisted and more than a little vindictive. Honestly, if there's a BETTER reason for washing your hands at the end of your loo experience, I have yet to find it.

Toilet-Seat Pee-ers, beware. Next time I walk into a stall to find it more than a little damp I am going to turn right around and hunt down the offending woman--no matter how badly I need to make use of the necessary myself.

The people and their dictators... how to turn oppression into uprising?

I am just apoplectic with glee at the prospect of having Tom Friedman for a professor. His columns ooze with more than erudition, more than perception, but just complete understanding and almost clairvoyance regarding world politics, economies and other socio-behavioral systems. Today's NYTimes column is about the ineffectual Bush policy toward Iran and North Korea, and why it's failing:

"Have no doubt, I think both are awful, abusive regimes that are driving their respective countries into a ditch. The Bush team is right to want them to disappear and to try to find ways to bring pressure to bear. But the Soviet Union was just as awful and abusive. Yet we engaged in “détente” with Moscow, because the thrust of U.S. policy in the Cold War was to reduce the Soviets’ ability to threaten us — through deterrence and arms control agreements — and then let the information revolution and popular disgruntlement destroy the Soviet Union from within.
What was good for the Soviet Union is good for North Korea and Iran."

I am just going to be so smart at the end of next semester. He's absolutely right in saying that change must come from within, that the people have to actually want it, and understand what they are fighting for, because then they'll be emotionally tied to the prospect of a new government. Fighting for something you are told is good for you has far weaker bonds.

I am desperately trying to write a dress code for this training manual and am failing miserably. I can be funny sometimes, but it's just not happening here, and in a dress code it's important to approach the subject with grace and humor (and not how my high school principal did it, with an authoritarian streak that Machiavelli would have felt threatened by). Ideas?

Frozen Airborne Pigs in the Underworld

OK, strangely enough I have this one line from the commercials for "Accepted" stuck in my head. Accepted is the new movie with the kid from "Ed" and the Mac commmercials where they make up their own university because they didn't get into any of the ones they applied to. Anyway, the point is, there is one scene where one of the kids, not the lead guy, is in a hot dog costume (clearly handing out flyers for a stand or some such) and is leaning over, with his hand about knee-level, wiggling his fingers, as he says in the BEST VOICE EVER: "Ask me about my weiner!" It's just priceless how it's in this low almost, pig-call voice, where it goes up at the end. Ah, classic! That line alone is tempting me to go see the movie. I just crack up every time.

Had a fiasco attempt at getting to workt his morning. To keep a VERY long story short, my morning commute included all of the following (and then some):

1. 15 minute wait for a train that never came, forcing me to take a...

2. non-airconditioned train on the wrong line that...

3. let me out on 8th ave--miles away from the office, resulting in my...

4. being late

Not fun. It took me a half hour to cool down in an office where you usually need an ice pick to de-freeze me from my chair. Bah Humbug!

Just wrote in a recent email to Jen: "Hell is clearly freezing over, pigs are soon to fly." I like it!

I'm sorry, do we work?

One of my most favorite comedic lines is, and will always be, that line from friends where Phoebe is talking about Monica's hypocrisy and says "Hello, Kettle? This is Monica. You're black!" See, I'm laughing uncontrollably AS I write it. Just classic. It's almost too bad it's so famous, because it would just be so so good to use it in normal conversation.

So far today I have had an email conversation of immense proportions with both Rachel and Jen. We talked about everything from the Pawtuckett AAA team to what on earth we're going to do with ourselves post-college to growing cells and weird people who live in a totally different universe.

So weird that the summer is almost over. Have far too much to do, nothing on my list has been crossed off:

• Get a tan. ---That would be a no.
• Go to the beach. ---Nope, no sand between the toes as of yet.
• Hang out in Central Park and enjoy the sunshine. ---What sunshine? What is that? All I know are flourescent lights.
• Go to a Yankee game. ---Negative, have been cheering the boys on from home.
• Start my thesis proposal. ---ha!
• Play a sport for fun. ---almost suceeded there, but Annie and I fell asleep on the couch instead. Classic.

There's much more, but I can't remember it all.