It snowed here last night. Quite a bit. Every year during the first snow, I stomp around and sulk, almost in disbelief of the weather - as if I haven't lived in this all my life. It never fails - I don't actually have an overpowering desire to go anywhere until I can't. Well, I could, but I'm trying to spare Whitey Mazda any further discomfort. It's now officially the "Stay Inside and Catch Up on Your Reading" season.

I had to get a tetanus booster shot when I was at the doctor the other day. The actual injection didn't hurt, but now my arm has swollen up, is all red and itchy, and really hurts. The fact that small children are subjected to this so they can attend public school is beginning to seem cruel and unusual to me.

Speaking of needles, one of my clients had to get a lab draw this morning. He's nonverbal, and has a limited understanding of things, so he was clueless when the nurse showed up before breakfast. Jason and I had to hold on to him pretty tightly to keep him still during the draw, and when the needle went in to his arm, he just looked at us like "you just woke me up, and now you're torturing me...what did I ever do to you?". It kinda broke my heart. Then he wouldn't eat his breakfast. Oh, it was sad. I tried not to get too teary eyed.

I have decided that I'm going to like Jet, no matter how much I get made fun of.

Song of the day: "Turn My Blue Sky Black" - Mooney Suzuki.

I saw "Sylvia" this weekend. It was excellent, but I can't think that anyone who isn't a Plath-head would really enjoy it. But all in all, quite good, and right on the mark as far as acccuracy goes.

I finally broke down last week and went to the doctor and got sleeping pills for my tiny insomnia problem. Please do not make any hasty judgements with this news and the previous paragraph's subject matter. And oh, how they lull me to dreamland! It's like floating on a warm cloud into blissful peacefulness. Every once in a while, I get out the bottle and look at it with pure gratitude. I'm on my way to having a persciption drug problem. Way to go me.

My father, looking very friendly and professional.

Today is my dad's birthday. He was born three days before the attack at Pearl Harbor. I love to give him crap about that. I normally abhor silly family posts, but my father is one of the finest people I've ever known, and I respect him very much. Tomorrow night I'm taking him out for thai food and good discussion. Happy birthday Dad!

I am quite guilty of having indie rock boy crushes. Yeah, I know it's kinda silly, but I do just the same. Although I have been crushing pretty hard on Jason McCann as of late, John Vanderslice will always hold a special place in my heart. I've been in love with him ever since I mistook him for a girlfriend from high school back at a Sunny Day show in 1997. He and I've got, like, history, you know? Anyway, he has a new album out January 20, titled "Cellar Door". Yes, it's a Donnie Darko reference. Yeah, that's official. I asked him and all. So order it on Barsuk, then sit tight and wait for him to visit a venue near you!

Song of the day: "Me and My 424" - John Vanderslice.

Just when I thought progress was being made...

Boy Punished for Talking About Gay Mom

LAFAYETTE, La. - A 7-year-old boy was scolded and forced to write "I will never use the word `gay' in school again" after he told a classmate about his lesbian mother, the American Civil Liberties Union alleged Monday.

Second-grader Marcus McLaurin was waiting for recess Nov. 11 at Ernest Gaullet Elementary School when a classmate asked about Marcus' mother and father, the ACLU said in a complaint.

Marcus responded he had two mothers because his mother is gay. When the other child asked for explanation, Marcus told him: "Gay is when a girl likes another girl," according to the complaint.

A teacher who heard the remark scolded Marcus, telling him "gay" was a "bad word" and sending him to the principal's office. The following week, Marcus had to come to school early and repeatedly write: "I will never use the word `gay' in school again."

A phone message left for Lafayette Parish schools superintendent James Easton was not immediately returned.

The ACLU is demanding the case be removed from Marcus' file and that the school apologize to the boy and his mother, Sharon Huff.

"I was concerned when the assistant principal called and told me my son had said a word so bad that he didn't want to repeat it over the phone," Huff said. "But that was nothing compared to the shock I felt when my little boy came home and told me that his teacher had told him his family is a dirty word."

There's probably nothing funnier than two college educated liberal white people in their late 20's sitting in their computer room smoking, drinking soda and singing along to "Straight Outta Compton" at 9:45 am.

"You think I give a damn about a bitch...?"

I'm just sayin's all...

Well, it's official. I'm getting old. Case in point:

* I have no patience with the new Triumph the Insult Dog video. It's just tasteless.

* I bought "O" by Damien Rice this weekend. Oh, it's so m e l l o w.


Oh, what a looker!

* I actually uttered these words this weekend: "You know, I should really be buying furniture and contributing to a Roth IRA rather than buying DVDs, albums and books all the time...".

* I frequently lecture my little sisters on the dangers of "living in the moment" (if you catch my drift).

* I get totally excited about going to concerts, then when it comes down to getting tickets the night of the show, I'm too tired and would rather sit at home with a book and mug of cider.

* I take my job way to seriously. Most of my conversations revolve around work. I've become that person.

* I get excited about sales at grocery stores, carpet cleaning and buying seasonal wreaths for the front door.

* I go to bed before midnight every night.

It's a sick sad world kiddies.

Song of the day: "Volcano" - Damien Rice.

This really isn't funny, except for the fact that it is...

"Paramedics called to the store found VanLester unconscious on top of a DVD player, surrounded by shoppers seemingly oblivious to her, said Mark O'Keefe, a spokesman for EVAC Ambulance."

I've always thought I've wanted to have a child. The desire was fairly strong, but compared to what it's been most recently, it was nothing. It's actually a full-on biological craving now, hardly hindered by rational thoughts that keep me popping my birth control pills. I guess my clock is ticking, which is a little premature to say because I'm only 26. Not only would having a child be really stupid for me now, but I'm not even sure medically I can. Does that make a difference to the "make a baby" hormones? Oh no. They flood my brain, rendering me into a primal wishful-breeding-thinking state at every diaper ad on TV, every rack of infant clothing at the store, and especially every time I see a child in public. And in Lawrence, that's quite a bit. I swear all people in Lawrence do is drink lattes and have babies. They're everywhere. Well, maybe not everywhere, it just seems that way. See what these hormones will do to you?

Song of the day: "Eat for Two" - 10,000 Maniacs.

Today's problem: I actually need to go out and shop. For like Kleenex and conditioner and daily run of the mill stuff. Dare I brave Target? No way. I'll just sit at home and hope the Household Goods Fairy drops by.

Yesterday was a great day for the right wing. Dubya dropped by Iraq to visit our brave men and women in uniform, doing so with an arrogance that can only come from knowing he didn't have to stay. Then there was the Dallas Cowboys halftime show, where Toby Keith and the Salvation Army proved that it doesn't have to be 1930's Germany to whip the country into a foaming-at-the-mouth patriotic Orwellian state.

"They could be made to accept the most flagrant violations of reality, because they never fully grasped the enormity of what was demanded of them, and were not sufficiently interested in public events to notice what was happening." - George Orwell, 1984.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

I live in a perfectly nice part of Lawrence. It's a newer area, in the northwest part of town. My neighbors are all college students, families, and five other Family Teaching Model Homes (what we do). But about a month ago, I found out there was a meth lab down the street. How did I find this out? Well, I was sitting in the living room on the clients side of the duplex and saw a guy running like a bat out of hell, followed by two policeman with revolvers drawn. I went outside and saw seven police cars, and about ten people all running around chasing each other. This went on for an hour or so. I got me really nervous, because this was happening around 3:30 pm, which is about time all the CLO clients get home from work (about 20 live on this street). It's really not a good idea to have developmentally disabled people around criminals, police car sirens, and guns.

This all happened again yesterday, only this time it started at the Ramada Inn (about a mile away), and of course, ended up on our street (the irony in this situation is our street is a cul-de-sac). This time I noticed because the chase was going on through the backyard. I watched the local news last night, and evidently the police never apprehended the suspect. He's still at large. I'll let you draw your own conclusions about our fine public safety department. I realize that for some of my readers, this is normal for your neighborhoods, but this offends my lily white sense of suburban security.

Song of the day: "In the Ghetto" - Elvis Presley.

Everyone's favorite non-Average Joe, Mac Tonnies, has been unwittingly thrust into popular culture. I'd watch the show to see if his clip gets aired, but I have no concept of when it's on or on what channel.

I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately. It takes me a long time to actually fall asleep, and then when I finally do, it seems I wake up every half hour or so. I keep a painfully regular sleeping schedule, and I depend on being well rested to handle my job, and this has really disrupted things for me. When I do get a few hours to squeeze in a nap, I'm plagued with thoughts of other things I could be doing. I spend most of my days in a weird fog - losing track of time, staring off into space for (it seems) minutes on end, crying at the drop of a hat over things like...oh, misplacing my keys or being unable to get knots out of shoelaces. And while I would think this would hinder my ability to function, it's not. I whip through stuff at work like I'm on speed - not only doing the regular routine, but spending additional time finding extra stuff to do to. I've lost patience with politeness at management meetings, and lately have no issue telling consultants and administrators where they can stick their "helpful advice". I'm afraid to drive - thinking I'll blank out and run a stop sign. Those close to me are predicting a nervous breakdown by Christmas. I counter that with the fact that my job doesn't afford me the luxury of the middle class flu.

Man, the holidays can be a real drag.

Song of the day: "Sunday" - MK Ultra ("...please understand being down don't give me no pleasure...")

Why not just call the Turkey "Liberty" and then slaughter it? It's more fitting after all...


WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Stars the turkey may have pushed his luck by gobbling throughout a Rose Garden ceremony on Monday but President Bush (news - web sites) just the same gave him a presidential pardon from being served for Thanksgiving dinner.

In a contest to name the national Thanksgiving turkey, conducted on the White House Web site, Stars, and the alternate national bird, Stripes, won out over Pumpkin and Cranberry. "It was a neck-to-neck race," said Bush.

Other names that gained votes were Hope and Glory, Harvest and Bounty, Plymouth and Mayflower, and Lewis and Clark.

"The rule book states that an alternate turkey is chosen in case the national Thanksgiving turkey cannot fulfill his role in this ceremony. It's kind of like being the vice president," Bush said.

In the Rose Garden, Stars punctuated nearly every sentence of the president's with a comment of his own as dozens of schoolchildren giggled, prompting Bush to remark: "Sounds like Stars wants to give the speech."

It was the 56th consecutive year the pardoning ceremony was held in the Rose Garden. The bird, supplied by the National Turkey Federation, was picked from among a group of 40 birds hatched on July 10 in a turkey barn in the Carthage, Missouri area.

Rather than being eaten on Thursday, like millions of other turkeys, Stars will live out the rest of its days at Frying Pan Park in nearby Herndon, Virginia.

Turning serious, Bush thanked U.S. forces serving in Iraq (news - web sites) and elsewhere around the world.

"We're thinking of them and their families. We think of the military families that have suffered loss," he said.

****

Do I also have to mention that he's making a mockery of death penalty pardons? What an asshole.

Song of the day: "Stick the Fucking Flag Up Your Ass" - Propaghandi

Kindly check out Jason's post today on Howard "Pussy" Dean. Thank you.

So here's the choice I have tonight: I can go to The Granada and see The Shins and The Rapture, or I can go to The Bottleneck to Fetish Night. Despite what you may think about me, it's not really a choice. I heard about the last fetish party there - evidently Master Whoever, who's the leading fetish guy in town (not really aware that one could take a title like that), was doing BLOODPLAY with some little slip of a girl and she passed out! Not only does he sound like a big dork (and not in a Northwest way, either), but he obviously doesn't know what he's doing!!! Now I like my lovin' with a little kink, but when you get into extremities that involve human waste, needles, knives, animals. etc., I've got to draw the line. And even if I were a voyeur, I can't imagine watching a club full of people who's sole existence is stuff like this, would even be that exciting. What do you really do at this kind of thing? Stand around and talk about it? "Oh, you're into lumberjacks? Me, I'm into electric shock and airplane hangers..." Lame. Very lame. I mean, have you ever known anyone cool who was into this kind of stuff? Me either. So, yes, I'll be at The Granada tonight, doing what I do best - being an indie snob, which I guess is a kind of fetish in itself.

Song of the day: "The Crablouse" - The Lords of Acid (because I don't find pubic lice erotic either)

"What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"

I know we all bond over this quote. Here are a few songs that I really shouldn't listen to anymore, because I associate them with some of the worst points of my life. (I still listen to them. Emotional catharsis can be so satisfying sometimes.)

* "Ghost" - Indigo Girls

* "My Old Flame" - John Vanderslice

* "State of Love and Trust" - Pearl Jam

* "Texarkana" - REM

* "Out of this World" - The Cure

* "How Soon is Now" - The Smiths

* "Here in My Head" - Tori Amos (well, anything by her to be more specific)

* "Time Bomb" - Dismemberment Plan

* "Why" - Annie Lennox

* "The Killing Moom" - Echo and the Bunnymen

* "Mama Said Knock You Out" - LL Cool J (not really, I just wanted to see if you were paying attention)

It's almost Friday. Thank god for that. I can't take many more weeks like this at work. I say that every week, though, and somehow manage to rise to the occasion. There are a lot of good things about my job - I have no immediate management breathing down my neck, I don't have to dress up, I basically just get to hang out and shoot the shit with four pretty cool guys, but it's also one of those jobs where you're never really "off". Even on the weekends, when I'm promised time off, I'm only a page away. I have nothing but respect for my guys, but being that they are developmentally disabled, some of their personality traits can get really old really fast. One guy can't grasp the concept of commercial breaks on tv, and starts being quite uncouth when there's a break from "Friends" (he's a maniac for that show). Another has a fascination with flipping his shoes, and if I get accidentally hit one more time in the face with a shoe, I might start a rule that he can wear only socks. Then there's one who's not only a non-stop talking machine, but a compulsive liar to boot, and that gets really old. There comes a point when I'm tempted to give him a reality check, however disrespectful that would be. Three out of four of my guys grew up in institutions, and trying to deal with the "survival" behaviors they picked up there is really hard. Food stealing and some um...rather distasteful personal hygiene behaviors are par for the course. I would never blame them for this stuff -- it's not their fault they were treated worse than abused animals for most of their life -- but it's aggravating and heart breaking all the same. Jason and I work our fingers to the bone trying to give these guys the most normalized home life we can, but it's a damn challenge sometimes. Only one of our guys has family that is involved with them, so we're it as far as love, affection and care for these people. It sounds selfish, but the pressure is immense, and it's so much more than just a job. There's a lot of dedication warranted, and while most of the time I'm happy to do it, it would be nice for us to have a life outside of work. Of course, if we had competent staff, and administration that was actually realistic about what can be done with this population, maybe things would be different, but that's an entirely different post.

On the other hand, one of my guys (who's my absolute favorite, even though you're not supposed to have favorites), made pudding for dessert the other day virtually on his own (if you knew what this guy was like, you'd see why it's such a big deal). Lucky for me, he did it while I was being observed by our Behavior Consultant. Gold star for me! And another is actually consistently walking over to the sink after dinner to have help having his hands washed (the idea that this hasn't been taught to him before is kind of frightening). It's things like that that keep me going. Maybe all the hard work is paying off. I'm so proud of them! They're very cool people. Everyone should come over and meet them sometime.

Song of the day: "Bleed American" - Jimmy Eat World (oh, stop laughing - you know you sing along too)

I'm listening to Pavement freely and willingly right now. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Damn, "Stereo" is just so catchy though.

Don't tell anyone.

"Was Stallone ever goth? I forget..."

Oh yes. I have already asked Santa for this one. 71 tracks! That's a shitload of Mad Bob!

Song of the day: "Battle of Who Could Care Less" - Ben Folds Five ("...I found your old ID and you're all dressed up like The Cure...").

As I am writing this, Douglas County is under a tornado watch. What kind of silliness is that? It's the middle of November, for christ's sake!

Song of the day: "Strange" - Tori Amos ("And I wonder when will I learn?").