Endings

This year, we have seen so much fall away, so much shift and change. It has left us unsettled, in question and scared. What next? seems to be on everyone's mind.

In the last two months, we have lost a fair share of icons. Each represented something different. The "me" of the 70s. The excess of the 80s. The buy-one-get-one-free-in-three-easy-payments 90s. The integrity of newscasting through the decades. And now the "lion" of liberals.

We don't use terms like, "Sex Appeal" much anymore. But Farrah embodied it. Today, we would mock anyone who declared themselves King or Queen of something. But, somehow, coming out of the materialistic 80s, we shrugged our shoulders and played along. How many of us got sucked in to buying the latest-greatest-product-ever in the 90s? I am raising my hand as a proud owner of the Caruso Curlers. How often have we wished that Walter Cronkite read us our news? At least then it was the facts, not the hype. And, even with all his faults, we will miss the kind of public service and progressive vision that Senator Kennedy gave.

The past seems to be slipping away from us as we step into an uncertain future. These icons, these anchors, are gone now. I wonder what icon will represent this decade? Will it be Bald Britney? Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan? Will it be the crumbing Twin Towers? That bumbling idiot we were forced to call president for much too long? Will it be the two wars and the soldiers forced to fight them over and over and over again? Will it be Wall Street or Madoff? Or will it be Hope?

In the face of all these endings, it's time to begin. It's time to change, for the better. To be brave and compassionate. To be fair. To truly make this country equal. To be responsible. To provide to those in need. I hope, if nothing else, this decade will have taught us to care, to be involved and to not turn a blind eye. From September 11th to Katrina to Wall Street to today, as this decade winds to its close, I hope we will be courageous enough to write a happier ending and not be afraid to move forward.

Wow

Wow. All I can say is, Wow! When have we ever seen anything like this? When have we ever felt such a swell of change and joy and optimism?

This is just the start. This is only the beginning. It's bright and shiny and new and mesmerizing. It is what we hoped for and worked for, prayed and begged for. It's a chance to hold our heads high -- proudly, again -- as Americans. Yes. We can.

We are still at war. Our economy is still in turmoil. This day does not change those realities. This day does not hide the work to be done...by all of us. This is just a start. But what a brilliant start.

I feel it in my core. In my heart of hearts. This is the beginning. The opportunity. The chance to live as we want. In a positive light. In a realness we haven't had in as far back as I can recall. With honor and respect, responsibility and ownership. We no longer need the smoke and mirrors of the past. Greed is not good. Debt will drag you down. Our environment cannot be ignored. It is time to innovate, change our outlook, our perspectives, our drives. We can change everything now. We've already started that process. Look at that man, the one we have as our leader and know that anything is possible. Like it or not.

Yes. We can. We can do anything. So, what do we really want to do? To have? I want more of this Wow to continue. For us to feel connected and strong. To be a country of community and fellowship and pride. To like each other. To come together. To know a time when things are easy because we aren't fighting for what we want. There's no need to fight or struggle when we work together. And there is much work ahead, work for us to do together.

I am ready, willing and able to do what I can to make this change permanent. To keep this Wow on tap. To remember this day always as the day we turned a heavy, leaden page to one that was crisp and clean and new. This is just the beginning. It's only the start. And I look forward to moving ahead and saying Wow often.

Certain Things I Just Don't Understand

I'm not a hatemonger. Nor am I a country music fan. But with the return of Mann C^#tler to television, I found myself asking: How is that tacky broad allowed on the airwaves after all the lies and despicable things she has said over the years, but poor Natalie Maines utters twelve little words and the Dixie Chicks were made pariahs?


(Click here if you are viewing this from your Feedburner subscription.)

Sure, that happened in a different place in time. But so did this:


(Click here for the link.)

Haven't we moved beyond this type of hype? Didn't November show that we have had enough of that? And yet, there she is.

I suppose the Left has better things to do than boycott "The Today Show" and "The View" or picket the bookstores who bring that thing in to promote her particular brand of ignorance and hate. I guess all those who chose to vote for a man of color with the middle name of Hussein are able ignore the rantings of a loon and accept her freedom of speech, no matter how offensive it may be. Maybe that's the difference between the Right and the Left. We have better things to do, like bring down Proposition H8, welcome in a new President and era, focus on solutions to our economy and environment, and work on coming together rather than dragging us apart. And Mann should be most grateful for that.

Karma, however...well, that's something we can't help her with.

As the Economy Turns

So, the economy kept the gays from calling in, and I also hear that it is bringing back the lady bush. Stocks in razor companies soar! (Kidding about that, though it might happen.)

We see the unemployment rates climb as daily announcements of job cuts and company closures continue. With every shutting door, there is a ripple effect. That company's vendors. Those employees' retailers. Those employed by those vendors and retailers. And so on. Right down to your own personal shrubbery.

It's a scary time. We aren't sure when we are going to feel steady again. We are all tightening our belts hoping to make it through okay. Then you get a goofball like Kathie Lee Gifford (why did NBC hire her?) who goes on a mini rant that we can save "Hairspray" from closing on Broadway by buying "lots and lots of tickets." As if the theatre-going public is just being stingy. Sigh. Some people just don't get it. The rest of it are growing it out.

Under the Rainbow

Today is A Day Without A Gay. If you can't/won't call in gay today (and you can even do that if you are straight), I thought that it might be nice to take a moment and give praise to the gays in our lives (that includes lesbians, bisexuals and the transgendered, too). This might seem silly. We don't often get asked to reflect on how the Irish, Kenyans or Newfoundlanders have influenced us, or even the left-handed or hazel-eyed. But, it seems we continue to label gays as "different". So, vive la difference! Let's shine a light.

I'm asking you to share how a LGBT person has positively contributed to your life. Now, this could be as simple (and predictable) as the hairstylist who saved you from bad bangs or as profound as how that friend/lover/teacher/neighbor/doctor/boss/family member helped you when you needed it most. Here's mine:

Well, it's hard to pick just one. My first thought is to my friends. There is my gay husband who took me to my first gay bar back in the day where I had the absolute best time of my life (total belle of the ball moment) and opened my little suburban-raised eyes. My gay boyfriend who repeatedly talks me down from the ledge after long days with crazy blonde bosses (though, that phase is over -- thank God -- and, no, I'm not blonde bashing, it just happens to be a tonal fact). Then there is my gay doppelganger; he and I are sure that DNA tests will prove we are related. He has set me straight more than once (no pun intended). What they (and their friends) have given me is utter acceptance. Unlike other folds who have worried that I am too opinionated or lacking in tact, they wouldn't have me any other way than foot-in-my-mouth, no holds barred, my four-letter-word throwing self. They also don't mind wiping away the mascara streaks when I am deep in the bell jar. That absolute acceptance is something I deeply appreciate.

Whether it is a sweet story, a funny story or one that is life saving or changing, please share your story in the comments section. You can post as Anonymous if you like. My hope is that this opens a few eyes to the fact that we are more similar than we are different. Gay rights equals human rights. Let's bring down the hate and repeal Prop 8.

A Day Without a Gay

For all of those people out there who are against of gay marriage, brace yourself for tomorrow. Tomorrow, they gays go on strike in protest of Proposition Hate 8. Rock it, my rainbow brothers and sisters! I'm here to lend my straight support. Because, there is no way I would be the woman I am today were it not for the gay guidance I have been given.

Imagine a world not touched by a homosexual in some way. Do you watch TV? See movies? Listen to music? Read? Eat? Wear clothes? Yeah, all highly influenced by the gays (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered). So, where does a homophobe go? Honey, nowhere is safe. Closets exist everywhere, so you can never really be sure. Just kidding. I'm not trying to scare anyone. But, you might as well get over your fear/hate/paranoia and just accept. Acceptance. It's what Jesus would do.

I would love to see the TV go blank tomorrow. The radio to be dead air. Movie screens to stay dark just to get the point across. It would be nice for businesses to shut their doors, for employees to feel good about not coming in, in spite of the economy and the rate of unemployment. Not everyone can call in gay tomorrow. But we can all be supportive.

If you can't imagine a day without TV or music or makeup, then go to the theatre and see MILK. Be reminded how far we haven't come. How much hate still lives here. How easily we will deny civil rights to our citizens. This is a part of our recent history. It's a part of now.

I don't understand why gay marriage is so threatening to people. Why does it need to be "protected"? Heteros haven't exactly done such a stellar job with it. And maybe like the neighborhoods gays move into and make more beautiful, elevating the value for all, maybe they can do the same for marriage. Why not let them give it a shot?

I Figured 8 Out!

It's been an exhausting week. The high high of the Obama win (let's be honest, Obama pwn3d McCain), and the low low of Proposition 8 passing was draining. Talk about buzzkill. I truly believed we would vote it down and make marriage available to all. We. Us. Californians. The trendsetters of the nation. Hey, didn't we bring you smoke-free bars, yoga and colonics? Enough said.

What is so bitterly ironic about all this is that we gladly passed Prop 2, which enables farm animals to turn around in cages. I'm pro-2. Don't get me wrong. But how did we give animals rights while we took them away from tax-paying humans? That's insane. And brought to you by a religion that believes in polygamy. Sweet Jeebus of late-in-the-day stains. Then again, we are the dorks who put Conan in our capitol. [Hey, Arnie, swell job with the budget. That whole "let's just open the books" strategy of governing is really paying off.]

It's taken me a while to process the whole debacle. But, I think I've figured out why people were so concerned about same-sex couples getting legally wed: A gay wedding is hard to top. Think about it. Same-sex weddings would be beyond over-the-top, but in a really elegant and efficient way. What straight couple could live up to that? Especially if all the best wedding planners, caterers, florists and designers were booked for years doing gay weddings. With that level of competition, and supply versus demand, it would certainly drive up the already high cost of a wedding. Imagine what a multi-tier wedding cake would cost under No H-8 circumstances. And, with our crappy economy, it really does come down to the bottom line.

If we know anything in California, we know not to piss off West Hollywood or San Francisco. They rally, picket, march and candlelight vigil like nobody's business. They are or-gan-ized. And they pull the numbers. Because these cities are known for fabulous, *inclusive* parties, everyone wants to crash them, easily doubling or tripling their crowds. People who love good dance music and strong drinks tend to tag along (and throw down their support). See, it's all about *community*. [That, and we know that the rallies end up at The Abbey in WeHo or Harvey's on Castro.]

I'm convinced that weddings are the reason Prop 8 passed. Straight people are insecure and afraid of being upstaged. Breeders have no style on their own. Oh, you think I'm being bigoted now? Puh-leez. Look at the difference between, say, Ellen and Portia's wedding and that of Celine Dion and Rene What's-his-name. That's what we are capable of without gay guidance. Everyone knows that. I'm not stereotyping. I'm stating fact. Reference Cher with Sonny and then Cher with Bob Mackie. Need I say more? And, while I would like to think I would avoid the meringue and a sad silhouette on my own, believe you me, if/when I get married, I'm bringing my queer nation with me to make sure I don't regret my wedding photos. And, that's what straight people are afraid of.

America, don't give up on us just yet. H-8 doesn't belong in our groovy State. So we are taking to the streets. We are taking it to court. We are taking it to Utah. We are checking out of Marriott. We are petitioning up a storm. We will break 8!

And, not that I am any sort of legal eagle, but I don't think there is any way this can hold up in court. We have a precedence of same-sex marriage. Some same-sex couples were wed in that legal window. We can't make those marriages invalid. Therefore, we how can we deny others the same rights? It seems to this laywoman that there's enough here to fight the good fight and win. And equality will prevail. Because, while we might be known as the land of fruits and nuts, we are also a bunch of rebellious trailblazers. We know how to make things happen.

And, if Arnie needs to bring in some revenue to Cali, he might want to think about helping us bring down Prop 8. We need the marriage license fees.

Getting Over Him

We have a new man in our lives. It is such a good feeling. (I don't know about you, but I woke up on Wednesday morning feeling like I had the best sex ever.) We have let out a collective sigh of relief and feel excited. Renewed. Optimistic. Just like when we step into a wonderful, new relationship.

Unfortunately, we still have to get over the dork that came before.

Because there is no time for a rebound fling, I thought we would take a few of the steps from my book -- A Sassy Little Guide to Getting Over Him -- and apply them to the lame duck we have to deal with for the next few weeks. Here are the steps I think are the most appropriate:

Get Out of His Head
Do we really want to go in there in the first place? No. There's no point in trying to figure out what he was thinking...because I don't think he was. That's okay. Trying to figure out why, how or if he was thinking isn't worth the effort. What's done is done. We are moving on.

Don't Look for Answers Because There are No Answers
Answers, in this case, are kind of like those WMDs. They just aren't there. And what kind of answers would make sense to us? Sure, we want to know the whys and the hows, subject this recent history to a serious postmortem. But, leave that to the CSI team who will write the history books. We have better things to do than wallow in the past. We are moving on.

Don't Pick the Scab
We've had a rocky eight years. They left a mark. The wound is still tender. But, we need to let it get better. Put a salve on it and leave it alone. It's a long way to January. We don't want a scar. Don't pick the scab, people. The last thing we need is any sort of infection. We've got enough to deal with. Besides, we are moving on!

And, finally...

Know Your Worth
Sure, our economy might be in the crapper, but we are worth a new start. We don't have to repeat what's come before; we can decide who we want to be now and as we move forward. We can't untangle the past, but we can use it to help shape the future from what we have learned. We are worth living up to our potential. We are worth achieving our dreams. We are worth leaving the nightmare behind. We are worth coming together.

It's time to let go. We need to take the lesson from this trying, all-take, no-give relationship, learn it well, and leave the rest behind. Because the change we have hoped for is here. America, we finally landed a nice, respectable, decent guy (and, he's pretty good-looking, too). I have a feeling he was worth the wait.

[Insert Great Big Happy Face Here!]

I couldn't be happier than if I woke up in the arms of the Clooney. We have a new President. And I feel so good about it. It's time to mend the fences. Heal the wounds. Restore our standing in the world. Yes, we can. And we did.

This is an amazing time. A renaissance even. We have such an opportunity now. Can we move up the swearing in? Transplant the shrub from DC back to Texas ASAP? We've got a lot of work to do. And it can't wait for January to start.

I have long said that we would have a black man in the White House before we would have a white woman. (Apologies for the un-PC phraseology. Bear with me.) I said it to illustrate that, no matter how racist our county might be, we are patriarchal over all. (Bear with me a minute further.) I never would have guessed we'd have the unique situation of having both a man of color -- bi-racial, in fact, which is so poetic -- and a female Caucasian vying for the candidacy in the same primary for the same party. For Feminists (I intentionally capitalize), it was interesting to watch. While the natural inclination might have been to vote for the lady, it was the gentleman who showed us the most hope, the most change, the greater opportunity. I backed Barack from the beginning, in spite of the twinge of gender betrayal. For me, it was the right choice. See, I believe he was born in a manger...or a reasonably facsimile thereof. I saw "That One" as the right one. I look forward to the day we get to figure out what to call the husband of Madame President, but it looks like we'll have to wait eight more years to find out. And I'm okay with that. Our time will come. We know all change is possible now.

I sit here fighting back the tears as I write this (and those who know me know I'm not easily teary). I am so happy, so proud, so grateful that the election was won by Obama. It is a beautiful moment. Beyond color or gender, we have a unique individual who can lead us in a new way. And thank God for that. I feel like I can again travel the world with my head held high...if only I could afford an international ticket, let alone the exchange rate. But we will get to that soon enough.

Not only did we have a wonderful man of color in this campaign, we had not one, but two women running as well. While one was questionably qualified (which further split the Feminist divide), there is no way to downplay the significance of this election. As my darling friend, JWC, noted, it's hard to believe that this is the same country that voted in the shrub...twice (though, I still dispute the 2000 election completely). What a change indeed.

This wasn't just a win, it was a victory. So much so, there is only a tiny part of me that wants to gloat and rub it in a few faces. But, I won't. The time for that is done. It is time to heal. To mend. To rebuild and overcome. But, if you aren't ready to celebrate that, then perhaps you should go off into a corner and suck it!

I mean that with love.

The Big Reveal

Today is Election Day. I don't know how anyone anywhere can be unaware of that. All that I can do is ask (read: beg) everyone who is registered to get out and vote. It's painless, and you get a sticker for doing it.

I don't understand why anyone wouldn't take a moment to vote. Except that we, as a society, can be terribly spoiled and apathetic. Don't be mad that I said that, Americans. You know how we can be. Oh, we don't like to admit it to the rest of the world, but those are some of our lesser traits. This is understandable, to a point. We are overworked, overstressed, overtired, overextended, underpaid, under-vacationed and need to take every spare moment we have to just sit down and take a breath. I get it. However, that's no excuse. Take a look at where our country is today. We can blame Wall Street or Washington if we want, but the truth is we were complicit. Don't just sit back and wait for another catastrophe. Vote, dammit. It's your GD duty. It shows respect for your country and your fellow citizens. And, don't be flip or funny about it. This is something to show a bit of reverence toward. Respect it. Do it. You can even take off work for it. Criminy, I'll throw in some cookies if that will motivate you. Though, a bribe should not be necessary (it kind of illustrates my "spoiled/apathetic" point that we would rather downplay).

Anyway, while I am extremely confident that Obama will win, there is a part of me that is concerned we will have to deal with the same questionable counting issues from some States. We can't have that happen again. Two screwed elections were just two too many. And look where those botched counts got us. I'm still pissed about 2000, and mad at Gore for bowing out so gracefully. There's a time to be a gentleman, and then there's a time to grab your sack and say, "No effing way. Do-over, dude!" Seriously. We want things so quick in America -- with our fast-food nation, drive-thru attention span -- that we will take it the wrong way just to get it faster. I think it's time we start appreciating quality, no matter how long that may take. Where are we going? What's the rush? Patience is a virtue we seemed to have hocked. Let's just take in a deep, cleansing breath and get it right this time, shall we?

Okay, stepping off soapbox. I was getting a little dizzy being up there, anyway. But, you know what I'm saying. If you don't vote, I suppose you have your reasons. I can't think of any good ones myself, so please enlighten me. But, maybe give it a shot this time. Maybe see the other side. Have fun with it. You get to make little dots now. It's kind of like the old Scantron tests (and, deep down, we all had fun coloring in our chosen box). So, please vote. Please. Pretty please with sugar on top? Thanks!

Cocktails & Conversations, Part 1

I have to give credit where credit is due. Deb on the Rocks created a series (which is beyond hysterical genius), on her blog that inspired me to have a little fun with it myself. (Cheers, Deb.)

Being that my friends and I have a lot of cocktail-infused conversations, I can either write about them...or bring them to a bit of staggered, animated life.

Enjoy. (Note that my "character" has the soccer-mom bob.)



Remember to vote tomorrow! It's the best excuse to be late to work, or leave early. I say do it on your way in and be late. That way it's done and you can feel good about yourself all day, and show off that hot little sticker.

Better Than Text

Only six more days! I'm so excited. Aren't you? It's like Christmas, only better. A new President. Hurrah! I've been waiting for this moment for eight years now. Eight very long, hard, bitter, stolen-from-me years. We have resolved all the "hanging chad", missing absentee ballots and severely challenged math skills surrounding our Presidential elections, haven't we? I certainly hope so. Ducks in a row, people. Get 'em there.

You don't need three guesses to figure out whom I hope will win. (That one!) And what a sweet day that will be. I think I might take next Wednesday off. We should have a parade or something. Serve up a couple of celebratory Baracktails.

While I know I'm not the only one, I have developed a bit of a bond with Obama. We Facebook. He texts me. Sends me emails (I have to say, I melt a little when he addresses me as Sandra Ann). We follow each other on Twitter. But, I'm wondering if all that will come to an end next week? Will President Obama still tweet his peeps? I certainly hope so. Imagine:

@BarackObama Kicking it in the Oval Office then World Peace!

Do you think Barack might pull something like a @RickSanchezCNN and let us send him texts and tweets telling him what's on our minds regarding the war or the economy? Put up a Twitter screen during his State of the Union address? That would be awesome...and a lot of communication management. See. He's creating jobs already.

But, if Barack decides he has to cut all ties in order to focus on running the free world, I'll understand. I suppose it's not appropriate to SuperPoke your Commander-in-Chief (after all, this isn't the Clinton administration we are talking about). I'll miss our tweets, but having Obama in the White House is better than texts.

A Thousand Words (x2)

It's a sign the world is coming to an end. Or that metrosexualism is desperate for a comeback. Seriously, I want to meet the man who will go out in public in these. Well...maybe not. But you can send me his name and picture and I'll post it here.

The shorts+longjohns mismatch of the 90s was one thing, but mantyhose are just -- as Tim Gunn would say -- preposterous. Faux tat tights? Who would dream this stuff up? And who would buy them (and not for a costume or gag gift...emphasis on gag)?





This is just too good for words. Feel free to add your own, though, or visit DListed to find the caption contest winners. Seriously, someone needs to sit down with John and explain that he's not funny. Really. That joke he calls a running mate was bad enough. Cracking himself up at the debates was absolutely cringe-inducing. This, however, just says it all.

1,000,000 Miles Away

Trapped in Pasadena for work last night, I was beyond bummed. Not just for the obvious reasons; there was no way I would make it home in time for the debates. I was beyond bummed I wouldn't be able to watch it live. I was in a bit of a panic, too, since Oprah was recorded as a garbled mess the day before. Fricken digital cable. If you aren't there to switch the channel and get it back on track, you're screwed. I worried the debate would suffer the same fate, and I would have to scramble to find a repeat online. This election is causing me a little too much stress. Seriously, all debates should be on Friday nights. I'm guaranteed to be home by 6:00 PM, not to mention I can drink freely, knowing the alarm won't be bothering me the next morning. So glad I didn't choose "my friends" to sip my Guinness on.

We finally hit the road about 5:40 PM, right smack in the middle of gridlock. Farg. Desperate, I asked if we could listen to the debate on the radio. "Why don't we watch it on TV?" my boss replied and then slid open the screen in front of me. This is the upside of rolling in a Rolls. Suddenly, the long drive home was a welcomed notion. Sadly, the car doesn't come with cable. No CNN, so we settled on NBC. It was difficult watching the exchange in the presence of my employer. Wanting to keep some semblance of professionalism, I held back from flipping off the screen and calling bullshizzle when I heard it. There were a few Tourettic outbursts, but I kept them to a minimum. Then we lost reception in the canyon, including Sirius radio. You would think with all the money in Malibu, they would make decent reception a priority, but no. I got about an hour into it, then hurried home to catch the rest, praying to St. Claire (the patron of television, really) that it all got recorded.

Happily, TiVo and TimeWarner were in working order (thanks, St. Claire!). I settled in with my microwaved organic, vegan dinner and fast-forwarded to where I had left off in the car. I have to say, I almost feel sorry for McCain't. Almost. Especially when he channelled Palin. How pathetic. The only thing worse (outside of the redundant lies) was when he cracked a joke and chuckled at it by himself. Even the GOP pundits had to admit that John was pwn3d by Obama. [OMG, pwn3d is considered a word by Blogger spell check...OMG, however, is not.]

There's less than four weeks to go before election day, and that feels a million miles away. I think we should just save ourselves some time, money, and a heap of McCain't/Palin BS and swear Obama in now. Boot the Shrub out of DC and start cleaning up this mess. At least move the swearing in to November 5th. January is too far away.

Spokesperson/Translator Wanted Full-Time

I never thought I would actually want to be like Sarah Palin, but I do. I know. You must be shocked. I totally am. But, I started thinking: Wouldn't it be great to have a spokesperson following me around to translate? Someone paid to take the foot out of my mouth and give it a pedicure. Where do I get one?! How much do they cost?!

I mean, that's better than a housekeeper or a personal trainer. I would live with dust bunnies and thimples if I could have someone smoothing all the feathers I tend to ruffle. I could just blurt away and not have to worry about the consequences. The Spokesperson/Translator would make everything better. I imagine it would go a little something like this:

POLITICS

ME: I think you are a friggin' idiot for saying something like that.

SPOKESPERSON/TRANSLATOR: What Ms. Miller actually meant was that you are a unique thinker with an interesting perspective. She finds that quite impressive.

ME: Seriously. You should get a refund from your college.

SP/T: With your impressive mind, the institution of higher learning that you attended must be honored to have you as an alum. They should set up a scholarship in your name.

ME: Douche.

SP/T: Weren't you the one to stop The Bridge to Nowhere?


SOCIAL GATHERINGS (Within 5 minutes of arriving.)

ME: South Park nailed Scientology. Like, who really buys the whole Xenu thing? Why not believe in the Easter Bunny? At least he's the kind of guy to bring chocolate.

RANDOM FRIEND'S FRIEND: I'm a Scientologist.

ME: Travolta, is that you?

SP/T: Mr. Travolta, let me assure you that Ms. Miller appreciates religious freedom and embraces diversity. Her comments were pertaining to the level of artistry, creativity and tongue-in-cheek humor of the show that, at times, boarders on genius. And, you have to admit, the whole Tom Cruise/closet thing was pretty well done. M&Ms?


WORKPLACE

ME: You know, if you just read the email and answered the questions I put in there -- in English so basic that it barely qualifies as first-grade level -- this whole process would go a lot quicker.

SP/T: Ms. Miller enjoys collaborating with you and hopes the working relationship will be long-term.


Imagine all the vodka-soaked debates a Spokesperson/Translator could repair. The relationships that would be saved. The verbal equivalents of floral arrangements sent to colleagues you insulted without even meaning to, let alone the ones you did intend to affront. This could be the greatest accessory ever invented; to always look good, even when you sound like an utter moron. I would pay just about any price for that. But, if we don't start paying attention to the policies instead of the spin, it's surely going to cost us all.

I'm Just Going to Say It

I can't take it anymore. All these cries of "sexism" whenever Sarah Palin is asked a question -- or a question is asked about Sarah Palin -- are giving me PMS...Palin-McCain Syndrome (my friend, SB, came up with that one...thanks for the loan). Here's a bit of advice for the McCain't campaign: Don't name-call the question or question the asker, JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION! How hard is that? Unless someone is asking what brand of tampon Palin prefers, it's not a sexist question. And even that wouldn't be a sexist question. It would be a stupid question.

I guess I'm supposed to be impressed with Sarah Palin just because she and I share the same reproductive organs. And, if I'm not, then I'm a sexist, a misogynist or just a bitter woman, a member of the "angry left". Please. Give my IQ some credit. I am to the point when every time I turn on the TV and some pundit (and more than a few are women) is crying sexism because Palin is being scrutinized, I have to pop a Midol. Come on. John McCain picking Palin was sexist. You can't tell me she was the best candidate for the GOP VP. You can't. It was a cheap ploy that now all women are supposed to rally around and embrace. It disgusts me.

Let's talk about how pro-chick Palin really is (and I'll skip her anti-choice stance): Sarah Palin's speech was written by a man. A MAN!!! Are there no female GOP writers that could fill her mouth with party rhetoric? What all the pro-Palinites are cheering on is a bunch man-words coming out of a woman's mouth. Is that something to rah-rah about? That, to me, is misogynistic and sexist. She has turned herself into the political equivalent of a ventriloquist's dummy. Yeah, I said it.

And don't tell me Palin is being picked on or is unfairly singled out because she is a woman. Do we forget the beginning of the campaigning when Barack was mocked and maligned every time he stepped outside, called Anti-American, accused of being a terrorist? Remember how the right-wing media treated him? How about Michelle Obama being called unpatriotic? Have we so quickly forgotten the button passed around at a Texas GOP event that asked if we could still call it the White House if he won? So don't come crying to me about unfair questions or treatment. As a woman, I'm going to tell you to knock it off, grow up and if you can't take the heat, get out of the election.

Instead of focusing on her speech, why don't we listen to Sarah in her own voice here. This is a candidate on a ticket for "Country First" who was a member of the Alaska Independence party in 1994 (the GOP denies this because she never officially changed her voting party from Republican to AI, but the AI says, yeah, she and the hubby were members). That was 14 years ago, pretty far in the past, so just admit it and say you changed your mind. That's a woman's prerogative, no? Like saying you'll be an advocate for special needs children...after you cut funding for that in your own state. I guess it really is easy to change your mind, your policies and opinions...depending on what the speechwriter feeds you.

In my opinion, Sarah Palin is a shady lady. And that's not sexist. That's me being polite. I'm sure there is more to come out of her closet. Look what we've gotten in just a week. And, I'm just going to say it: I'm still doing the math on Trig.

Palin in Comparison

While a picture might say a thousand words, I'm having a hell of a time coming up with one.

It's not the bikini that bothers me. It's not even the gun. It's not the apparent can of malt liquor held in the hand of the smoking man. It's more than that. Maybe it's all of it. Or maybe it's just that I can't think of an occasion where a bikini and a rifle are required. Is this how the Palin family goes fishing? I mean, there's shooting fish and a barrel, but come on... [UPDATE: Okay, I was duped. I'm told the photo was Photoshopped (and the person who did it should get a job at Vogue). I suppose I should have known better but it sort of seemed to be Palin's style, don't you think?]

As a feminist, I don't have a problem with this photo. As a feminist, I do have a problem with Palin's gender being used as a deflector for her ineptitude. Some women are playing the uterus card in her defense, and that's driving me bonkers. It's kind of embarrassing. As a woman, I want and expect equal treatment, not something "special".

I caught Congresswoman Michele Bachmann on CNN last night (I accidentally watched Larry King) and this broad said that Palin's two years in office gave her more executive experience than Obama and Biden combined. Why? Because it's in girl years? WTF?!? Palin is completely inexperienced. There is no arguing that. She might be popular. She might know how to sell a plane on eBay, but that does not mean she should be in the running for one of the highest offices in the nation and a potential heartbeat away from the Presidency. She is not the best candidate for the job. And, if she is, the GOP is truly in trouble.

Less than a week into her nomination, there has been skeleton after skeleton stumbling out of her closet. She announced her daughter's pregnancy not when she accepted the VP nom, but under the cloud of Gustav. That's just shady. I don't want her 17 year-old daughter dragged through the mud. Nor should she be thrust in the political spotlight. The brouhaha has nothing to do with her daughter, their family values or Palin's parenting; it has to do with Palin's ethics. Something her uterus can't hide. With TrooperGate coming to light right after her accepting the nomination, one would think she would be more forthcoming about anything else that might be deemed controversial. (Do they not have a PR team and media training in the GOP budget?) The announcement of her daughter's pregnancy was supposed to diffuse BabyGate. Now, I'm really not one for internet rumor or conspiracy theories, but there is a bit of hink to this story. And, if Palin's story is true, it does kind of question her decisions as a mother whose water had broken and chose to risk infection and the baby's health to hop a plane home. But I'm just a single gal with no kids. What do I know? (Um, enough to head to the hospital once I leak amniotic fluid, especially with a pre-term, high-risk pregnancy. But that's just me.)

Some are saying this just isn't fair; if Palin were a man she wouldn't have her parenting skills or morals challenged in such a way. And why isn't Biden under such VP scrutiny? Well, his daughter is twenty-seven for one thing. But, imagine if Barack's daughters were older and one of them were withchild. You think everyone would go easy on him and his family? Please. McCan't's corner is even trying to blame Obama for the backlash. Did you see Obama's response? Well, look here. Off limits. I agree. Which is why I'm not using the daughter's name in this post.

What bothers me is that safer sex is not mentioned in this story. Last I heard, HIV and STDs were still rampant. What is Palin's stand on sexual education? Abstinence or death/disease...or, if you are lucky, you'll just get knocked up and go into an ill-fated, teenage-shotgun marriage and parenthood? That's not the kind of pro-female politics I look for. That's not hope. That's not change. That's just sad.

Gender can't help but play a role here because that's the card McCan't played, but it shouldn't be used to shield questionable ethics. Palin shouldn't be able to avoid the hard questions because she is a "lady", or a mom or a grandmother. I didn't burn my training bra for that. But we need to take the privates and private matters out of this and focus on the politics. Trust me, there are sure to be a few more issues she'll want to skirt. Oh, come on. You had to see that one coming.

[UPDATE: Funny or Die spoofs the bikini photo in their Gina Gershon spoof. Enjoy.]

See more Gina Gershon videos at Funny or Die

Groaning for Gold

Yawn. I hear the Olympics are over and we won't have to suffer through them for another two years. Yea! So glad we can get back to BS as usual.

I have to say, I did a great job of not watching any of the Olympics, with the exceptions of what the "Today Show" recapped and accidentally watching the Men's Swimming Relay (we were in a bar and it was on, I had no say). Sports really aren't my thing. Overproduced television really isn't my thing. Hype upon hype upon hype completely puts me off. But, above all else, I wasn't going to support anything Chinese government related. You can go on and on and tell me that's not what it's about; it's a time where the world sets that all aside for the honor of competition. Bollocks. That was the Chinese government's big PR push, and quite an expensive one. I think it would have been better handled, and received, if they simply freed Tibet.

My feelings about their government don't extend to the people of China. Look, I wouldn't want to be judged by the dufus sitting in the White House. I didn't vote for him, twice. So I absolutely acknowledge the difference between the people and their leader, or joke in a suit. Whatever you want to call him. And, it's not the little girls' fault that their ages were lied about. But, that landing off the uneven bars was not gold worthy (saw it on "Today"). That the US Team didn't dispute it was kind of gross. Yes, we want to be good sports and respectful guests, but weren't we already overlooking the fact that the Chinese team were grossly underage? It's just seemed way too hinky. And, that's another reason why the Olympics don't do it for me. It's always political.

Back in the day, I think it meant a little bit more. The athletes were amateurs and couldn't go pro. I mean, of course the Men's Basketball Team took gold. They'd better. They had Kobe. And a few other top players I'm sure. But, once they started letting all the pros play, the Olympics truly lost its luster for me. There will never be another "miracle" hockey team. Like Steve Prefontaine, they won't have to suffer for their sport, and I think that's where the true passion and drive comes from. And why college football is easier to suffer through than a pro game. They are hungry for it. They have something to prove.

Nothing's the same anymore. Even Wheaties had their cereal pissed in. I believe in change, but always hope its for the better. Is it though? Do we really need a bunch of fireworks and choreography at the opening ceremony, or is that to justify the advertising cost? Everyone is wondering if London can live up to Beijing's hoopla. Who cares? Just have Beckham wear his panties. Or wrangle the Sex Pistols on to the stage and let them scream about anarchy. Now, that I would watch.

An Affair to Dismember

So John Edwards was unfaithful. BFD. The man isn’t running for office anymore and his wife is terminal. I think we can hold off on the public flogging, don’t you? And what exactly is the big deal? He’s not a priest. He’s a politician. A male politician at that. The shocking thing should not be that he cheated, but that it was with a woman. An attractive woman. An attractive woman who wasn’t a prostitute. And one who was of age. For an affair, this is beyond vanilla. It’s not news, it’s snews.

This happens every day in America. People cheat. Usually, it’s the men who get caught. The women who do it seem to be a bit more clever about it. Perhaps men do it for ego and women do it for emotion. I don’t know. I don’t cheat. Though, I can’t say I’ve not been the dreaded “other woman”. Okay. I hear the gasps. Trust me, it’s nothing I’m proud of. We all make mistakes. Sometimes we aren’t aware of the error being made (only after the fact do all the details come to light). Or perhaps we go into it knowing the wrong we are doing, the risks and the cost. We might have our reasons, but there is never an excuse that makes it okay. I won’t talk about it any further than what’s already been mentioned because it is private. There’s no point in being honest about it because the whole thing is founded on dishonesty. What could possibly be said to make someone say, “Oh, I totally get it. It all makes sense. Thanks for shedding the light. I feel much better about it now.” See what I mean?

I’ve learned that it’s pointless to make assumptions about a situation without knowing the whole story. And the thing is, we don’t know the whole story. There’s no reason we should. It’s none of our business. Yes, we can assume the marriage vows they made, but we don’t know what agreement the Edwardses may or may not have had. None of our beeswax. If he were still running for office, yes, to a point it would be our business. In spite of my scarlet letter, I happen to think that a certain vow of chastity should come with the Oath of Office. Keep it in your trousers for 4-8 years, or keep your mistress locked in another wing. Whatever. Just don’t diddle the interns. That’s beneath the Commander in Chief. I also expect the person in the Oval Office not to be popping pills, doing lines, shooting up or falling down drunk. These are my standards. I expect them to be met. Decorum; it’s important. But John Edwards is not in public office. He is now a private citizen. He and his family should be allowed to deal with this in private, which is hard to do living in the public eye. Which we all do now, by the way, thanks to camera phones and YouTube.

You can judge all you want. It’s a human foible. But, let me ask you: Is your relationship perfect? I suppose we’d have to define “perfect” in order to answer that. Have you ever strayed? It’s okay if you want to plead the Fifth. Have I? No. When I am in a relationship, I am certifiably monogamous. Have I been cheated on? Yes. One boyfriend only kissed another girl. Big deal, but it still pissed me off. This was after he had an emotional affair with this really annoying broad, which was beyond irritating but doesn’t “technically” count, right? Oh, we were in our twenties. Drama happens. Big whoop. Another cheater taught me the difference between assuming that you are in a committed relationship because you have been seeing each other 5-6 days a week for four months straight and the loophole left open because you didn’t have the commitment conversation. Haven’t made that mistake since.

I’ve known the effects of cheating from an early age, having sat up with my crying mother when my dirtbag of a father didn’t come home. I was three. They divorced when I was five. He cheated on her, namely with the woman who would become my stepmonster, who was later surprised to find out he cheated on her. The most sympathetic thing I could think to say to her was, “Duh.” Well, at least he waited fifteen years before he got caught.

I don’t know what I would do if my (theoretical) husband ever cheated on me, but I’m pretty sure it would involve lead pipe and kneecaps...theoretically speaking, of course. Still, even with my temper and poor ability to forgive, I don’t know that it would spell the end of the relationship. People eff up all the time. Men especially. Egos can run amok. And spouses can emotionally vacate leaving the other alone in a couple. I have learned that relationships bring out the very best and very worst in people. And I know they take constant work from both sides in order to function at all. But, if you are in it for life, you have to take the good with the bad. For better or worse are in those vows. And I think they Edwardses have had their share of worse. They don’t need any more from us.

We can talk and point fingers and say, “Never me.” But, I’ve found that’s the surest way to bring Fate to your door. Perhaps we should just back away, leave them alone and pray, “May that never happen to me.” But, if it should, I really hope that you get to deal with it behind closed doors and not have the public dismember your affairs.

Granddaughter of the Revolution

You can't really leave your house without stepping in a pile of politics these days. I don't really mind it. While I am not a political animal in either my business or social lives, I do like to have a healthy debate about it. My one request is that you know what you are talking about (not just reguritating party dogma heard on a talkshow) and know why you believe what you say you believe (not just toeing party line). I don't need articles quoted or statistics arranged in a pie chart, just your take on the subject matter and a lively dialogue about it.

Believe me, I'm not especially well-versed in all that's going on in the world right now. My blood pressure rises too easily. I do check in with the AP wire daily to note the headlines so I'm not in a complete moronic bubble. Catch BBC America's news a few times a week. Matt and Meredith give me the latest on Today. But I have my limits on how much gloom I can take in. I stopped reading the paper after October 2001. I turn off the TV whenever the Shrub wants to hear himself talk at yet another public address that says nothing but spins everything. I can't even enjoy Bill Mahr's show because he always has one guest I want to crawl through the screen to clobber. I'm a Buddhist, you know. I'm trying to stay detached, not judge and just go with the flow. My A-type personality and fiery astrology sign does get the better of me at times. I try to breathe through it.

There's a lot of talk about the raising of taxes. Barack's grand plan to make us all broke and on the governmental teet. That seems to be the right's favorite weapon. Ooh, he's going to raise taxes. How will we afford to live! Please. If Nero would stop fiddling long enough, we could all hear the sound of our infrastructure crumbling. It's been doing that for decades, and no one seems bothered. The fact that our roads and bridges, schools, sewers and such are falling apart...well, that's just someone else's problem. That is, until you are standing in a puddle of poo.

I was having a talk the other day with a dear friend whom I greatly respect. We were chatting about taxes and, while I certainly don't have to worry about capital gains, she was a little up in arms about what Barack was proposing. She didn't like the idea of a tax hike to those who invest wisely. As someone who saw half her paycheck go missing to the taxman when she was 26 because she fell into a certain bracket and had no dependents (except for my offspring: Rent, Car Payment and Student Loans), I get the irritation that overtaxing can bring. My familial roots go all the way back to the Mayflower and the Revolution (and I have a lot of apologizing to do for that, I know). We had that tea party in Boston for a reason. But, if we don't start chipping in to take care of things, the proverbial pot holes are only going to get bigger.

(By the way, we all seem to forget that, no matter what a candidate proposes, it still has to go through the House and Senate before it makes its way to us. I realize it's confusing now, since we have been under a dick-tatorship for so long and the media prefers hyperbole, but that's how it's supposed to work. Last I checked anyway.)

Sadly, it occurred to me last night, while leaving the theatre after a 7:30 showing of The Dark Knight, what lazy, apathetic people we can be. Seriously. Stay through the end credits of a film (which you should do; those people worked hard and deserve some acknowledgment), wait for the lights to go on, and take in the astounding amount of trash left behind. What kind of people can't take their oversized soda cups to the garbage can? What kind of people leave their candy wrappers and popcorn bags on the floor? I'll tell you what kind: Americans. Trust me, the theatre wasn't full of Canadians and Swedes; we were in Santa Monica. Why is this slovenly behavior socially acceptable? Because it's someone else's job to take care of it.

But we don't want Big Government taking any intruding steps into our lives. Smokers complain about their loss of rights often. They deserve the freedom to smoke anywhere they like. Screw those of us who don't like the stench of ignited toxins. I understand their ire to a point. I don't want "The Man" to tell me what I can or can't do to my body. If I want to risk my skull riding a motorcycle without a helmet, I shouldn't get cited for that. But it's not like in the interim, I'm not dropping bits of gray matter on the road as I fly by. Yet, how many times a day do you see a smoker casually drop a butt out of their car window, or flick it to the sidewalk as they saunter along? I must ask again: What kind of a person does that? Someone who really believes it's not a big deal. Someone else will take care of it.

We might say we don't like Big Government, but our actions say otherwise. We expect other people to take care of the things we don't want to deal with. After all, they get paid for it, don't they? That's your tax dollar at work, no?

Trust me, I'm not a fan of taxes. I don't like my money wasted and I'm certainly not pleased with how the government misuses what I send in. But that's my fault for letting them get away with it. Believe me, Senator Boxer, Senator Feinstein and Congresswoman Harman (whom I am still pissed at for not following my direct request to call for the Shrub's impeachment), know me and my email address well. I'm not IM-ing them every day or checking in on a weekly basis but, when I have an issue, I address it. I'm not afraid to pick up the phone and call my mayor to say that I'm not pleased about something (like being held captive in Bel Air). And you'd be surprised how easy it is to have a conversation with the right aide to get your point across, even if it's just to say you discovered a chunk missing from the road. It's not falling on deaf ears. It's being noted. Their jobs depend on it. And, if we all start letting our reps know how we feel and what we want, things will change. However, it's usually just the far ends of the spectrum chiming in. We need the middle men (and women) to speak up.

I know that must sound like a Peanut parent talking. Wah wah wahwah wah wah. But how else are we going to not only change things but make them better? Now's the time. Really. What are we waiting for? For it to get worse? I shudder to think of that.

I want to hold my breath in a tunnel to make a wish, not because I'm afraid it will collapse. Sink holes scare me (and fascinate me, too). I want to pay for the education of children not my own because, eventually, I'll have to deal with the little suckers as members of the general public and would like them to know how to use their brains. I don't have a problem with welfare. I think we should lend a hand to those who need it. I don't feel cheated by that. I feel cheated by my health insurance company, who increases my premium while shrinking my coverage. I feel cheated by corporations who seek profit at any cost. I feel especially cheated by our goverment protecting those corporations over the people, bailing them out while letting us sink. But, again, that's my fault. I let them get away with it.

My paternal grandmother was a direct descendant of Ethan Allen. When I heard that as a little girl, I thought for sure it meant big furniture discounts; a calming salve to the wound incurred by learning we were not heirs to a beer dynasty. What I later learned was that rebellion and distrust of "The Man" are in my DNA. I was destined to be a malcontent. Meant to question authority. Crave revolution. But, what might be most revolutionary is that I don't mind paying taxes to make our little piece of the world a better place. Maybe it's just my fear of sink holes talking or my version of tithing. Either way, I'd rather chip in now than pay for it later.

Did you feel that? I think it was a few of my relatives rolling over in their graves.

(Couldn't find a clip of them performing "Revolution" from the Isle of View accoustic show, but here's Chrissie and the lads performing "Tattooed Love Boys" circa 1981.)



(And "Private Life" from Isle of View. Not that either of these clips has anything to do with the topic here, she's just one of my favorite rebels, and one hell of a singer/writer/artist. Enjoy.)