Scary (and not in a pleasant, Halloween way)!

It's been a long time since I posted, and it's too bad it took a terrorist like Ann Coulter to prompt me.

As someone who was raised a Christian, then became a Jew by choice, it really angers and saddens me to see this woman portray herself as a "perfected" Christian. She is as much an epitome of what Jesus taught his followers to be as those who destroyed the World Trade Center were examples of Islam at its most basic: people who are willing to hurt and maim and deface in order to assert that their religion is the right one. In other words, twisted examples of what their religions actually teach.

And to call Christianity the "fast track" and state that Jews have to obey those pesky rules in the Old Testament, while Christians don't, they just have to ask forgiveness, is actually a shortcut, short-sighted, Cliff-notes version of Christianity.

Like Britney Spears, Ann Coulter should just be ignored until her career and influence die a quiet, whimpering death.

Update: Somebody is offering $1,000 for video of Ann Colter being pelted with bagels. Stay tuned...

Local Lingo

We were talking at dinner last night about local speech patterns we have observed since moving to Missouri from California.

I have two major pet peeves in that area. First, and most annoying, is that it seems to be acceptable to use the wrong verb tense when speaking. I hear it every day and it takes a lot of restraint to keep from correcting people. The other is to pronounce the word "him" as "eem". So a sentence that, in simple English, means "I saw him" would be pronounced "I seen eem". It's also common to use the word done when did would be accurate (back to the verb tenses). "I done that yesterday." And nobody seems the least bit self-conscious or even aware of the error.

I know the local schools teach English, my son is enrolled in a local public high school. And people read and watch television and movies, so they presumably have exposure to correct usage.

I can say without a hint of sarcasm that these wide-spread habits baffle me.

Check your iPod

From Entertainment Weekly online: Take a few minutes to peruse your iPod song list — or paw through your CD collection — and then share the five most shameful songs in your collection. And remember, I wouldn't ask you to dive into the humiliation pool if I wasn't already standing in the deep end, arms outstretched, promising to buy you a pony. Ready... set...jump!

Okay, let me first apologize for any earworming, but here are my five:

(1) Insane in the Brain – Cypress Hill. Shut up – you know it’s catchy!

(2) Mmmbop – Hansen. *sob* I’m only human!

(3) Baby Got Back – Sir Mix-A-Lot. I just love the lyrics, that’s my only defense. And the rhythm. And, well, the memory of Ross and Rachel singing it to the baby on Friends.

(4) Wannabe – Spice Girls. I blame the mojitos I was drinking that night for buying this on iTunes.

(5) Danger (Been So Long) – Mystikal. I will never apologize for loving this track. The background samples, Nivea’s voice counterpointing Mystikal’s, the nearly incomprehensible lyrics (except for the occasional “N Bomb” on the uncensored version). This is a gem in the rough.

Those who know me will find this list somewhat surprising, since I’m more of a Van Morrison, Three Doors Down, Bonnie Raitt, Damien Rice kinda gal. But I listen to these songs pretty regularly. Just goes to show you never can tell about people’s tastes!

Catholics take on road rage, Southern Baptists chicken out on global warming

I found the Vatican's 10 Commandments for Driving just a reiteration of how people should be behaving in the first place, being considerate of one another and not hurting each other. I also think it is both an overstatement of the obvious and a frivolous use of the pontiff's authority. But hey, no harm, no foul - I'm Jewish and he's not the boss of me anyway.

The Southern Baptists, on the other hand, continue to piss me off. It is bad enough to condemn same-sex marriages in a world where love is in such short supply and committed relationships are an asset regardless of their flavor, but now they've taken a cowardly stance on global warming. Or perhaps it's simply towing the Dubya party line, what with conservative, reactionary money pouring into the collection plates and funding everything from religious themed amusement parks to intolerant hate campaigns. I hope that enough Christians will think for themselves when they hear about this poorly-conceived joke to reject the SBC's edicts in this case and remember that among God's earliest instructions to Adam included His appointment of humanity as the stewards of the earth and its resources.

Kushiel's Justice by Jacqueline Carey

From the first few chapters of "Kushiel's Dart" I discovered that Jacqueline Carey has a gift for creating characters that are real, human and yet gifted in various ways beyond our reality. The world she has created, with its roots in our world yet somehow MORE, has taken on a character of its own with its beautiful D'Angelines, actively involved deities and demigods, varied landscapes and surprising treasures is a place I certainly wouldn't mind living. And with this fifth installment, Imriel has truly grown into a complex adult who is willing to take responsibility for his own actions and failures yet also ready to stand up to his queen for the love of the woman he adores. I can't wait for the next installment!

The Harlequin by Laurell K. Hamilton

I'll be uncharacteristically brief: this was the best Anita Blake book since Burnt Offerings - the return of Edward (and yes, Olaf as well) was worth the wait and I savored every little detail. I especially, surprisingly, enjoyed the scene between Raoul and Anita. I have one tiny little nit to pick: When Sylvie visits Anita in the hospital and says she doesn't do women. I think that line may have been intended for Claudia because I have always cherished Sylvie as the sole preternatural lesbian in Anita's world. Or maybe she should have said she knew Anita didn't do women.

Grunge Cringe

This is too funny!

Muse Quiz

I took the "The Nine Muses" quiz on gURL.com



My muse is...
Calliope
Calliope is the patron goddess of epic poetry. She is often depicted holding a writing tablet and wearing a golden crown, for she is the oldest of the muses and their leader. Her name means "The Fair Voiced," but Calliope inspires eloquence in writing. The next time you feel compelled to write (especially something "big"), call upon Calliope for inspiration and perhaps you'll pen your greatest work yet. Read more...

Who is your muse?

The twins next door

I was working out in the front yard today when the 5-year-old twins next door came over to investigate. We were chatting while I dug up weeds and Haley (the shy one) asked "What's your daddy doing?" I smiled at her and said, "Sweetie, he's my husband and I think he's paying bills."

Later I was watering the herb bed in front of my son's bedroom when I squirted him lightly through the screen and he squealed. The girls giggled like mad and Hannah (they daring one) said "Make your brother scream again!" I had to explain that he's my son and I'm his mom.

It's even funnier in hindsight - like they thought I was their age because I was having conversations with them like equals, not talking down to them like kids. They are very fun neighbors to have.

Evil Genius and the Southern Cross

My brother, the EvilGenius, just returned from a trip to New Zealand to visit his KiwiGirl and he turned me on to his super-secret stash of pictures from the trip.

They were all lovely and intriguing, but these two in particular rocked my world:




















Hopefully, he'll post a comment and tell us something about these locations.

Cowardice

I have never been a huge fan of Michelle Rodriguez, but I find this to be a simple act of cowardice. Girlfriend, have the courage of your convictions and/or actions, at the very least. We've all seen the pics, read the interviews and heard the anecdotes - you'll get more respect by either being honest or saying nothing than outright denying your enjoyment of seks with women!

My little big man

Saturday night was prom night for my son. What a great experience for him to go to a small-town prom where the senior class is less than 20 people so that both the juniors and seniors go, it's held in the gymnasium and a committee of junior girls did all the decorating. They had an ocean cruise theme, a DJ, election of a prom king and queen, and were announced at the door upon arrival by a senior member of the faculty.

In comparison, proms in LA are held at hotels or other off-site venues and are decorated and catered by professionals. There are usually hundreds of people in attendance, the elegance is kind of cold and impersonal and I understand that they no longer elect kings/queens because it's considered a divisive popularity contest.

My son danced all night and even danced with his girlfriend's art teacher, who taught him the Texas Two-Step. Katie was so happy that he danced so much - apparently a lot of boys consider dancing a sissified activity.

Here is the lovely couple before the dance.

Listen to the rhythm

I drove home through one of those glorious midwest downpours that I missed so much during my 25 years in California. Warm Spring air outside, big drops of rain splashing lazily down, making a splat the size of a silver dollar when they land on the windshield. Distant rumble of thunder along with the occasional flash just out of the edge of my peripheral vision. Then, when I came home, a beautiful double rainbow available for viewing off the deck out back.

The ends of the rainbows were in my back yard. That's fitting. I didn't come here for money or career advances or all of those things I pursued in Beverly Hills, Century City, Los Angeles, Burbank, et al. I came here looking for a home with my family and, lo and behold, the rainbows pointed that out to me.

The stress of the work day, the week, is gone. There is only peace and warmth and warm skin waiting for me in my bed.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Damn, it's been a long time since I've had my blog open for business. I was inspired by someone I don't know but have come to admire because I read her entire blog in the past two days and feel like she's a kindred spirit. Thank you, Hollywood Farm Girl, for reminding me of the freedom of writing for oneself.

I started this blog in 2001 because all the cool kids were doing it. I started it as part of a social circle of people that I'm mostly still in touch with online, but now we all meet at our posting board and have pretty much left off the blogging.

I stopped posting in 2006 when I was working for a really repressive, controlling company and feared I would lose my job if they found my blog. I left that job a couple of months later, but never started this up again. Of course I had surgery and spent a lot of last year recovering. I'm recovering in so many ways at this time in my life, maybe I can keep some of my thoughts better ordered here.

So I have returned. Triumphant? Maybe not exhuberantly so, but I have survived my life's changes over the past couple of years and that in itself is a triumph.