Quodlibets

Because last night, as a

Because last night, as a friend and I were trying to leave the apartment to go have a drink (coffee, because we're weenies) at Friday's, and the door wouldn't open. From the inside. You understand, this means that we are TRAPPED in our apartment. We had some inkling that this was going to be an issue, because all weekend long, the door would stop working for a time. But usually, it stopped working from the outside. And only when one of us was in the apartment. So I would go let S in, or he would come let me in. But this time, the door just stopped working. Completely. No amount of jiggling would produce results, so from nine o'clock last night, the sliding doors became our only doors. Oh yeah, and you can't lock those from the outside.

S dashed off a call to emergency handy-people, and they came this morning at 8-ish. They came to the front door, knocked, and seemed off-put when I yelled through the door "Uh, it won't open." Even though I'm sure S was very explicit when he described the problem, because we had already called maintenence out on Saturday, and they did not solve the problem. Obviously. After a good half hour of work, the handymen told me they were done; the door was fixed. And it is. It's fixed. But all morning I had nightmares of being told the problem wasn't fixable until tomorrow. And I did NOT want to sit in my apartment all day. I had things to do. So thank goodness someone is handier than S and I. (Although, I felt really relieved when it took 2 handymen a half hour to fix the damn door. At least we're not totally useless.)

S and I had to

S and I had to do some emergency domestic work yesterday. For the past few days, the temperatures, as you know, have gotten, in my sister's words, "arctic". Apparently, our bedroom window had given up the fight, because on Friday night, the bedroom temperature was four or five degrees lower than the bedroom (with the door open) and the bedroom floor was nearly unwalkable. S actually climbed out of bed on my side (away from the window) to avoid the floor. When we opened the blinds, the metal frame of the window, at least along the bottom, was a sheet of ice. S is not usually too concerned with the cold, as he grew up in the coldest (temperature-wise) house in the world. But this was even too much for him, and we went post-haste to our local hardware store to get that plastic window insulation.
Now, we're not handy. I'm especially not, though S can get by. But we managed to get two windows insulated in an hour. Pretty good, huh? And! The bedroom is no longer frigidly cold. Yay for small things.

And then, I had to be handy this morning. I was moving the whites from the washer to the dryer, and *pop*! the lights went out. But not the appliances, or the tv, or my computer. I decided it must be a circuit, but when I looked in the box, none of the circuits were in the off position. Hmmmm. So I showered, called the office at our apartment, and they told me to try the two most likely circuits, which I did. And the lights went on! I'm handy!

First of all, Super Size

First of all, Super Size Me is very compelling. I think it's pretty clear, from what happens to Spurlock, that we shouldn't be eating fast food. Ever. I don't think S and I eat too much; he eats waaaay more McDonald's/Taco Bell/etc than I do. And I do think that the problem of obesity (if you want to term it that way) needs to be dealt with, and I do think that Americans need to learn to eat healthier.

But. I wish Spurlock could have/would have dealt with some of the ECONOMIC reasons people eat fast food. Some of the reasons that kids are given five bucks and sent to the McDoo for dinner. Some of the reasons that we don't all eat in healthy restaurants and shop at Whole Foods (whole paycheck?). I think that saying that kids need to be taught healthy choices is a valid point, but why aren't they taught? I feel that perhaps addressing the fact that most children live in a house where both parents work (or the one parent in the household works) and might not have the time that Mr. Spurlock's mother had to cook every night. And anyway, my mom cooked every night but I'm still chunky. But that's besides the point. Feeding your kids homecooked meals every night presumes that you have the money and time to spend an hour (or two or three) in the kitchen, serving up fresh food. Now, I will admit that if you're careful, you can eat well on a small amount of money. But not if you want organic. And I'm guessing that some of the meat and veg that you find at the grocery store is just as bad, in many ways, as what you can get at a fast food restaurant. You think that those hyper-sized, super-drugged chicken breasts are good for you??? They're gross. But if you want to feed a family of five healthy homecooked food for less, that's your only choice. Trust me, you need to have a trust fund to shop at Whole Foods.
So we have that economic problem. We all want kids to eat better, but we're not making it possible for them to eat better. And exercise? We all can't make enough money to belong to a gym. We all don't have enough time to work out. I do, but I'm lucky. And the fact that kids don't have gym in school; don't get me started. I of course, grew up in the only state with mandatory gym (oh wait, and I'm still chunky), so I perhaps got lucky. But I have friends who are teachers, and I know the stress of No Child Left Behind. It leaves no time for anything but test prep. Feed the kids? Goddamnit! We don't have time. I'm just saying, economically, and governmentally, we're making it harder and harder for people NOT to eat fast food. And I think that Morgan Spurlock should have at least somewhat addressed this issue.

Because it's fine to tell people not to eat food that's bad for you, but not addressing why they eat it, or how to make the change away from it is pretty irresponsible. Just saying, is all.

S and I just watched

S and I just watched Super Size Me, and I have a RANT about it. But I really can't right now, because I have a splitting headache and I'm all set on going to bed. But I promise, tomorrow morning, after my workout, I'll blog a great long rant about some problems in the movie. And NO, I will not defend McDoo.

And, if you've noticed, I've changed my comments just a little bit. Yea or Nay?

The couch that S and

The couch that S and I bought this year for our new apartment is a piece of shit. I think about my sister's amazing suede couch and I cry inside. While we could never afford the couches my sister has, I wish we had splurged a bit more, so that an hour on the couch didn't leave my lower back screaming. There is NO support left in any of the cushions, or even in the back of the actual couch. It's so uncomfortable I could scream. By 8, after a few hours of intermittant couch sitting, I want to take ten advil and go to bed. I end up contorting my body in any way I can just to find some measure of comfort. I'm never very successful. In fact, right now my lower back is yelling at me to move, but the options are the floor, the couch or the bed, and I'm sticking with the couch. Resolutely and uncomfortably.

Right now, S is wrapping presents. I believe I mentioned that I was sucky wrapper, which is why he's wrapping one of my presents for someone else right now. To be fair, he's only wrapping 3 out of all the presents I will have wrapped this year, and I wish it was more. One of the presents I wrapped for him is comical in how absolutely horrible it looks. It looks like a four year old found paper, tape and a box, and stuck them together in something approximating a wrapped present. I suppose I should be embarrasssed, but I'm not. It's not like he will care. (Though interestingly enough, he's very concerned with how his presents look. He's a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to the presents, apparently. Well, from now on, he can wrap as many presents as he wants.) Like everything S does, it takes him a long time, but when he's done, it's really worth the wait. I guess I can't fault him for wanting to give nice presents. Whereas I just want to get the wrapping overwith.

****Okay, first things first. I

****Okay, first things first. I have nine, yes nine, gmail invites just waiting to be used. Email me at the address at the top of the blog, and I will send you an invite. I want to get rid of them, so please, snap one up right away.

Otherwise, I have nothing. I mean, I'm sure I could get into some rambling discussion of something or other--like for instance trying to figure out how you got where you are. But I'm not really in the mood. You'll have to bear with me, because, the posting, it will be sporadic for a little while. And, by sporadic, I mean one line posts, things like that. Anyway, I'm just not feeling it right now. I'm so up and down lately, if I'm having a good night, I'll post. If not, I'll probably just stew in my own juices on the pathetic couch S and I own. I plan on doing that in five, four....three.......two..............
now.

And that ain't good, because

And that ain't good, because it means that a migraine is coming on like a train. And I just had a perfectly lovely indulgent dinner: red pepper hummus, a half of a half of a baguette, and pasta salad. From Whole Foods. Right after my first bite of hummus, the saws began to cloud my vision. Damnit. I want to read, not have a migraine.

Last night, S and I

Last night, S and I watched this Belgian movie, Ma Vie en Rose. I'd seen it before, a number of years ago. God, I think it was even in class that we watched it. Anyway, it's FANTASTIC. But it's interesting that we should be watching this movie, as my friend from high school called (not K in The Big City, but a different close friend. I'm still trying to figure out what to call her, so bear with me.). We hadn't talked since our mutual friend A's wedding, and we started to talk about him, and this wedding. I'm trying to be tactful, and also very careful, but suffice it to say that many of us were suprised when A decided to get married in a church, if you catch my drift. My friend and I were discussing my feelings on the matter, which go something like this: A is a big boy, and all I want for him is happiness. My worry is that one day, when he has a family, he'll look back and realize he ran too hard from what he was scared of.

Now, Ma Vie en Rose is about a little boy named Ludovic. And Ludo, he wants to be a girl. Or, really, he thinks he is a girl. He has this theory that he's a "girlboy", because when god was tossing out his letters, his other X went into the garbage can and he got an XY. Purely scientific, he says. The movie is really about the family's struggle with Ludo's very young, but very sure identity and sexuality. In the end, they realize that whatever bigotry and hate they'd experienced in one town needn't carry over to another, and that it's just Ludovic. They love him no matter how he conceives of himself. It's very sweet. I think I actually said to S during the movie, "I think I'd be the kind of mom who let's my little boy wear skirts if he wants." Because the thought of having a gay child, or a transsexual child, even, doesn't scare me so much. I thought the movie was perfect in conveying that idea--that it's simply an identity, among many. And I thought the way Ludovic's siblings dealt with him was sweet. Scared of his proclivities, yes, but in the end, they just loved him for him. Really, if you can bear an hour and a half of subtitles, you should rent it. It's not really about being gay, or being a transsexual, but about being you.

So back to my friend from high school. I know that there are a lot of religions in the world where being spiritual and being gay are mutually exclusive. But I also know that there are so many good places for lesbians and gay men to find an open, accepting place in a house of God. I sometimes wish that fundamentalism hadn't been the brand of Christianity my friends embraced, because there might have been more leeway for them to explore their identities, and learn themselves. As it is, I feel sad that perhaps, one day, I will have a friend bitterly unhappy with his life. Or, perhaps not. Perhaps he loves the girl, and they will be happy forever. It's definitely possible. I only wish for his happiness, and I know that when you shut one half of yourself off, the possibility becomes more remote.

Well, I'm finished with my

Well, I'm finished with my Christmas shopping. (Hey mom, you know that thing I asked you about on the phone? I found a PERFECT one online. Where else? Bronner's!) I'm going to start wrapping in just a minute, but I feel the need to procrasitnate. I'm such a baaaad wrapper, it's not even funny. My presents often look like a five year-old wrapped them. Oh well.

As for Bronner's, some of you know that it is Christmas Wonderland, but for those of you who don't know, let me just explain: Bronner's, it is Christmas Wonderland. My mom and I made a trip up there last fall, and I think we're going to go again next fall with my sister. For four years, we saw the signs advertising Bronner's (and Frankenmuth, which is MI, for those of you who don't know) on our way to and from the college I attended. We'd always sort of joked about going, but finally, we did it. Now, this place is the strangest, hugest Christmas store ever. Run by evangelical Christians. I'm not kidding, they put religious tracts in your bags as you check out. And the number of signs that said, "Jesus is the reason for the season".... I wanted to politely say, "Um, not in America, sillies! As your store shows us, spending money is the reason for the season."

Anyway, Bronner's is full of Christmas crap. Nativities, outdoor decorations, fake trees, garlands, ornaments, advent calendars, stockings, etc etc etc. The list could go on. There are ornaments from different countries, for different occupations, with names on them, made of glass, plastic, and any other material you can think of. Holy Christmas warehouse, is all I have to say. And they do a nice little online business, I'm sure. And Frankenmuth! It's like, the little Bavaria of Michigan. The little Bavaria of Michigan that specializes in all-you-can-eat chicken dinners. Oh, there's competing MASSSSSIVE chicken dinner palaces across the street from one another. My mom and I decided to eat one, just to see, and it was good, but it wasn't warranting a palace, let me tell you that. Still, Frankenmuth is interesting. Worth at least one pilgrimmage in your lifetime if you like chicken, Bavaria, or Christmas. Or Christians running Christmas stores.

Still, it was NOTHING compared to the Christmas store to end all Christmas stores in Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany. That's right, Kathe Wohlfahrt. My mom was like a kid in a candy store in this place. Un-fucking-believable, this store. I think I'd go back to Germany just to see these stores again.

Oh, and to eat sausage.

Okay, I've converted. I signed

Okay, I've converted. I signed up for a free newsreader, and I love it. I'm using Shrook 2 because it's specifically for Mac, and I really understand the format of the interface well. I was getting kind of crazy with the blog reading, checking all my blogs all the time, spending hours online doing, in effect, nothing. But now, Shrook just checks my blogs every half an hour, I read the new posts, and I save precious minutes. With which I have been reading actual books. I just wish that everyone would publish a site feed. I still read around 15 blogs that for some reason don't have a site feed. This is not understandable, especially if you use blogger. It's too damn easy to publish your site feed to not do it. So even though I find Shrook a delightful convenience, I still have to check other blogs. Though, sad to say for those bloggers, I do it a LOT less than I used to.

So the moral of the story is: publish your site feed, damnit!