Quodlibets

Now. Right? Update: Read this

Now.

Right?

Update: Read this too. It's nothing like the above link, though if you are interested in the last post, here is another link to Brooke's story.

and listing things. I had

and listing things. I had a couple of epiphanies this morning, and here they are:

1. I actually really like yoga. I'm surprised by how much I like it. Oh, I suck at it. It's really, really pushing me to work different muscle groups, and it's making me feel better about myself. I think I might take it again next quarter.
2. Here's what made me like yoga: I've been having this problem with my arms. When I sit on the floor, and extend up through my spine, my hands don't touch the ground. In fact, I can barely touch the tips of my fingers to the ground. And I can't fold forward, because my body just doesn't work that way. I've been feeling confused about what to do, because there is a whole portion of class devoted to sitting extended or folding forward. So finally today I asked what I could do with my arms, and the answer is so simple! Yoga blocks. I need yoga blocks. It's a relief. Now I will no longer feel like an idiot in class.
3. On the way home from yoga, I stopped at Blockbuster to get a movie for movie night tomorrow (Jersey Girl). I thought maybe since I have no plans tonight, I'd pick up another movie. Now, I don't usually think of Blockbuster as a bastion of liberalism, but to my delight and surprise, my Blockbuster had Uncovered: The War in Iraq and Bush's Brain. I'm really excited to watch both, especially since I though Outfoxed was so good.
4. One last point. I was checking my searches today--how people found my blog through search engines--and imagine my delight when seeing that a search for "girlyman indigo girls" on yahoo leads to my blog. I like it, I like it a lot.

Anyway, that's what I'm thinking now. In five minutes, I'm sure I'll be thinking the opposite of what I think now. In fact, there's a good chance that I'll hate yoga again tomorrow when I can hardly walk.

I've been trying to decide

I've been trying to decide if I want to blog the memes I see on other people's blogs. I saw one devoted entirely to reading habits, and knew that it was perfect for me. But I can't help thinking that most of you probably don't care if I like Dean Koontz or Stephen King (neither; except for King's non-novels) or if I like bookmarks or dog-earing my books (I dogear, faithfully). And then, there is an absurdly long list of random things, and you have to highlight what you've done. It's absurdly long, and I don't even like reading them, most of the time. So why would you want to read mine?
Okay, but then I think, what if my brain droppings are just a little less frequent today? And they are. A lot has been going on, but much of it is trivial and much of it is too private to blog. I could make a random list of things I've been thinking, but I've done that before, and I don't know. Then I was thinking, hey, I could play a game. Like, in music, at my former job at a bookstore, we would stand at info (and this means nothing if you're not in the bookstoreworld, but that's okay) and quiz each other: "Automatic for the People, or Out of Time?" (Automatic for the People.) That's a fun game, and it could turn into a meme, right? I could make a meme.
And also, people don't seem to be commenting very much on this blog, and that's fine, I know you all read it, but what fun is a meme if no one is going to respond? I've been pondering that for days, the meme response question.
And here's another one: has anyone been noticing how often I change the description line on my blog? Weekly, and they're always lyrics. Do you guys read those? Do you notice them? Do you mentally try to figure out what songs they're from?

I'm thinking......

I really can't understand Mary

I really can't understand Mary Cheney. I don't want to talk, politically, about what it is to be gay, but to talk informally about it. I don't really care what Kerry or Bush says about Mary Cheney. What I care about is how Mary Cheney can possibly reconcile in her head what is happening around her.
As someone who has been in both same sex and opposite sex relationships, I feel like I can speak about this issue with some semblance of empathy. I mean, I feel very strongly about gay marriage; if I were still in a same-sex relationship, I'd want the same things I'm able to have with S. And I have a lot of friends (oh, so cliche, but so true) who are currently in same-sex relationships, or someday hope to be. I've spoken of my true nature as a fag hag, and to think that all these friends can't share in the legality of marriage is ugly. It's ugly.
So here's the thing: what the fuck is going on in Mary Cheney's head? I'm sure she loves her father and mother, and I'm quite sure they love her. Dick Cheney is nothing if not pragmatic, and he must be pragmatic enough to realize that she is who she is, and love her for her. But I fail to understand how someone can somehow separate that from every other gay man and woman in America.
I've always labored under the delusion (or truth) that all it takes is to humanize the situation, and you can convince people to drop their hateful ways. That's somehow either not true of the Cheneys and Bushes. I want to shake Mary Cheney, and beg her not to let her family (her family!) get away with that shit. It's hard to respect a person who it seems doesn't respect herself. Either that, or she really loves money. Because I'm sure Papa Dick pays her enough. More than enough.
Anyway, I guess I was lucky, once upon a time, because my family loved and accepted me, and made it clear that the feeling wasn't just about me. They loved and accepted my friends, and they only ever loved me. I wish that the Cheney's would set an example, and come out and say, love your sons and daughters, and wish for them what you would wish for them under other circumstances. Because it's clear that many do not. Many, many Americans recoil in disgust upon learning their child has fallen in love with someone of the same sex. It's a shame, really.

Something my dad said about the whole thing really made a mark on me. He said to me that he didn't understand how a parent could treat their child so badly. He said we have so little time together anyway, that to mar it with hate, to ruin it with disapproval and anger was shameful, and that the thing was to love. To love for the longest time possible. And it made sense. The choice should be to love, as long and as hard as possible. Barring nothing.
I wish Americans understood that.

Well, I'll tell you what

Well, I'll tell you what I've been thinking about. I've said that I won't blog on politics before the election, but I think that this goes beyond partisanship. I've been thinking about a draft. I read this today, and it really got me thinking.
I really do believe that a draft is possible. I think we're dangerously overextended, and we unfortunately need to throw more troops into the mess of Iraq. What happens if North Korea or Iran does something bad? Do we need even more troops? Bingo, I think we do! Anyway, that's not what I was thinking about today, because in the right circumstances, a draft is going to happen under a Bush or a Kerry presidency.
What I was thinking about, actually, was the disastrous effect the war would have on my generation, and the one before and after mine. I was born in 1979, and that year is sort of right between two generations. I'm not Generation X, but I really don't like being lumped into Generation Y. The definitions of the generations alternately puts me in both. So anyway, my generation is going to be destroyed if there is a draft. If you look at those generations who had to deal with Vietnam (and in interest of full disclosure, my dad did not go, but only because the war ended before he would have been drafter. Anecdotally, he has said that his birthday was due to be drafted within weeks, if the war hadn't ended. Now would he have gone? I sure hope not.) there is a huge dissonance in the Vietnam generation. Look at Kerry v. Bush.
Here's what I see happening to my generation:

• Lotsa women are going to get pregnant. My friend C has pointed out that if the military was to draft women (and how could it not in this day and age?) there would be a sure-fire out for women. If you got pregnant, they probably wouldn't send you to war. It's just a guess, but....and then all these women have children they don't want. Or, they get the deferment and get abortions. And do it again the next time they need to.
• Lotsa gay men. Don't ask, don't tell. What if everyone starts telling? How would the Republicans, especially, deal with so many professed gay men? It's an interesting thought.
• Some sort of exodus. That's right, a whole generation of kids is going to pull up stakes and leave. I have to say, to protect S, I'd leave. I love this country, but not enough to send S to fight some rich, white fuck's war. (Whoops! That was partisan.) I've been told that this is a sadly un-American sentiment, but my mom told me once that when they invade our country, she'll pick up a machine gun if she has to. I'd do that too. But who invaded our country? Not the country that we'd be sending the troops to (at least, if a draft happens without the Iran/N. Korea dimension, and even then, I think that it is more likely that we'll go do some more preemptive shit.).
• People in jail. I'd rather have S in a jail than fighting a war. I would be a CO and I am almost 100% sure he would too.
• A very divided America. Not that it isn't now, but....it would only get worse.

Those thoughts have been rattling around all day, and it feels so good to get them out. I know I've broken my ban on political stuff, but I am afraid. You can scoff at it now, and tell me I'm delusional, but in three years when you have to figure out how to get your kids out of the draft, you'll get it. And can I say, for the record, that I hope I'm wrong. I hope I'm disastrously, horribly wrong, and that we'll never, ever have to deal with a draft again.

courtesy of Palmer. you are

courtesy of Palmer.

you are one horny smiley

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My mom and sis are

My mom and sis are throwing a pumpkin-carving party on Wednesday, and since I'm a dutiful daughter, I offered to bring something. I wanted to bring a dip that my friend A from Borders brought to my house on New Year's Eve, but all my efforts to procure the recipe were fruitless. So in a strange run of luck, I found a recipe by Rachael Ray that looked similar. I decided to test it tonight, and might I say, it's quite tasty. I left out the mustard, as no one I know particularly likes it, and I crushed Ritz crackers over the top instead of almonds. I also added a teensy bit more cheese than the recipe called for. Cheesier is better, right?
I learned the hard way that when a recipe calls for something you don't like (like nutmeg), you shouldn't add it, no matter what the recipe says. I made this mac and cheese, and it was good, but the nutmeg sucked. I even added less than was called for, and it sucked.
I like to cook, and S is very good about humoring my attempts at gourmet. He didn't so much like the mac and cheese, though he ate a healthy portion, because he is so nice. He always says he likes things, but then I have to read his body language, because often, he's lying. He's lying to be nice, of course, and I love him for it, but I do need to know whether or not to make something again.
I try to cook something new occasionally, just for variety, and it doesn't always work out. But I like to pretend, every once in a while, that I'm domestic. Just for shits and giggles. I actually prefer that S cook, and he's very good about it. He really doesn't mind. It's nice.

Certain things are just so

Certain things are just so coincidental. Last night at the concert, I kept thinking over and over again of my "desert island" discs. You know, the 5/10/15 discs you would take to a desert island if you could only take that many. I have a generally accepted (in my head, that is) list of seven, but the last three or four change constantly. Anyway, tonight I was reading this blog, and if you scroll down to the Sunday Night Fun entry, you can see why suddenly things seem so coincidental. I did post five of my choices, since I'd just been thinking about it anyway. Here are my current ten, with the top five being the ones that haven't changed in at least a couple years:

-Automatic for the People--REM
-Swamp Ophelia--Indigo Girls
-Out of Range--Ani DiFranco
-Under the Table and Dreaming--Dave Matthews Band
-Crash--Dave Matthews Band
-Rockin' the Suburbs--Ben Folds
-Post or Greatest Hits (it's up in the air)--Bjork
-Ones--Beatles
-1200 Curfews--Indigo Girls
-Disc 2 from the 4 disc Zeppelin box--Led Zeppelin (though in a pinch I would take Led Zep IV)

As I said, the last 5 or so albums change a lot. I would say that since I first picked up Rockin' the Suburbs it hasn't been out of my top 10, though Bjork's greatest hits is a newer addition.

Along with this desert island discs thought, I suddenly realized that my whole disc collection needed to be reorganized. So tonight, as S cleans the bathroom, I'm going to reorganize my CDs. I want to create one CD folder of just those CDs that have absolutely proven themselves. It happens so rarely now, and my CD collection is so scattered that I'm not even sure I have all those CDs I listened to all the time 5-6 years ago. I may use some of my Christmas money on new copies of CDs that I've misplaced.

Oh! Please leave your "desert island" discs, because S and I are always interested to hear what CDs other people couldn't live without. No homemade mixes, and double CDs may count as one. (And if you don't have ten, just do 5 or 7 or whatever.)

I just got home from

I just got home from seeing the Indigo Girls. I didn't drag S this time, but went with my friend C. They were very good; they always are at least very good, if not excellent.
The Indigo Girls is one of the first bands I really remember loving. I probably got into them my freshman year of high school. Swamp Ophelia came out in 1994, and I'm sure I bought it right around my sophomore year, which was 94-95. The Indigo Girls were very big at my high school, but only for the talent show. Then, every girl with a voice found another girl with a voice and a boy with a guitar, and they would sing Galileo/Least Complicated/Ghost/Power of Two/Virginia Woolf, etc. As most of my friends were in the choir, most of my friends were in the talent show. I can't remember if any of them performed the IGs, but I'm thinking it's highly possible.
Anyway, we were very into the Indigo Girls. I can remember singing Emily's parts while my friend B sang Amy, and every time I hear the song "Mystery", the rememory is instant.
I haven't liked very many of the IG's newest albums, but just when I give up on them, they pull a "Become You" out of their asses. I think, that after Swamp Ophelia, Become You is my favorite album. This is surprising for two reasons: the last two IG albums (before Become You) were mediocre at best, and it's a well-known fact that bands slip a bit as they get older. The fact that Amy and Emily could put out such a good album under these circumstances is impressive. And I have hope that after the next album, the next one will be great. That seems to be the pattern here. I'll wait patiently.

PS--Again, breaking a general pattern, the opening band was ridiculously good. Insanely good. Their name is "Girlyman", and live, they are just great. The album they cut on Amy's Daemon records isn't as good (though I only have one listen under my belt), but I would recommend checking them out, especially if you love quirky folky/funky bands. The band members are all great, and their stage conversation is pretty skillful. We were laughing pretty hard. They also threw "Genie in a Bottle" in the middle of one of their songs, which is always fun.

I've been thinking about this

I've been thinking about this subject all day; two of the blogs I read have talked about it. One post was very personal, and one was basically political. The subject is abortion.

I very firmly believe that the personal is political, and I think that those two blog entries above highlight exactly what the abortion debate is about. I have often felt like forcing a woman to be pregnant is something like hijacking her body. I believe that pregnancy (while I've not gone through it) is something that cannot be minimized, or ignored. It takes over what was once yours and makes it something else altogether. I live in perpetual fear of pregnancy, and what it will do to me--it isn't just the result of the pregnancy (the child) that I fear--but the way my body will no longer be my own. And you can say whatever you want about that--you can call it selfish, you can tell me I'm an evil person--but it's how I feel. I had a pregnancy scare once, and I thought to myself constantly, "I hope S can support me through an abortion." I was certain that I would get one, and I was certain that it would be okay. I'm a responsible girl; we make sure we're safe. A pregnancy would be a fluke, and a disaster. For many of the reasons listed in the political article: lack of economic resources, a tenous grasp of health care, etc.
I have a friend (or had, depending on how you look at it) who, before I met her, got pregnant and had an abortion. She very rarely talked about it, and I only learned of it later, when she (evidently) trusted me enough to tell me. It wasn't that she was ashamed, or that she felt guilty about it, but at our college, it was good to know who your friends were on this subject. In fact, the only time we ever had a drawn-out conversation about it was during "Right-to-Life" week on campus. The girls with T-shirts that said "Yes It's Murder", the white crosses stretching down the library green; all this bothered my friend. She said that what was right for her was right for her, and no one could convince her otherwise. All it could do was make her more careful about telling, and more certain that it was necessary for her. She said that our college, when she went to counseling about the pregnancy, had told her it would send her to a special college "for that sort of thing". God forbid a pregnant woman walk around our campus, where women didn't have sex. The administration actually took that position--women didn't have sex at my school, because good Catholic girls didn't do that. Perhaps that's why our campus had one of the highest abortion rates in the country (a rumor around campus, but not hard to believe).
Which leads us right into the political. The political article is a perfect example of what's wrong with the pro-life movement. (And I cannot, for the life of me, figure out how the pro-life movement is actually pro-life. It's more pro-birth.) Discouraging abortion from happening is a practical thing, not a moral thing. It continually proves to be so--if you are pro-choice, and can handle it, read this blog. It's very sad, and I don't know how else to describe it without sounding callous, but it's interesting and can be, at times, empowering.
But that's a digression, because the aforementioned blog definitely leans towards the personal. I can't really state a political argument for abortion being legal that's any better than the one linked to at the beginning of this entry. I can restate over and over again the same things that are stated other places. I would only add one more thing: outlawing abortion will only serve to make the gap between rich and poor bigger. If abortion is outlawed, rich women will fly to Europe to have them, and poor women will depend on a whole list of unsafe and unsanitary options to have them. They'll continue to exist, and they'll continue to exist.

I know this is a very scattered entry; I hope it makes some sense.