tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-225338352024-03-07T10:53:32.872-08:00Flotsam and JetsamLulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.comBlogger196125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-172168574062751172012-11-02T22:16:00.001-07:002012-11-02T22:16:44.220-07:00Humans in Society<br />
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Imagine three people naked and separate in the woods. They have nothing with them, no one with them, no starting point.</div>
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One recognizes his coldness and gathers wood, and struggles for a spark, until he has a fire.</div>
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Another recognizes her hunger, sharpens a rock, and kills an animal for food.</div>
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A third recognizes his thirst, and searches far and wide for water, until he finds a spring.</div>
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The first is warm, but dies of thirst. The second is full, but dies of exposure. The third is slaked, but dies of starvation.</div>
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But if instead the three meet, and recognize what each the other can bring, what each the other needs, and what they themselves have and need, they can share one to the other and live. The water carrier is fed, the hunter is warm, the fire-builder does not thirst: this is society. </div>
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When humans come together and agree that they will do better together than alone, we build a social contract. Perhaps I can build my own fire, grow my own food, and find my own water; perhaps so can you; but I will eventually sleep, and my fire will go out. You will walk alone, and so you will meet the tiger alone. The hunter who has fed herself will get too old to hunt. So we agree: I will find food, and you will find shelter, and she will find skins, and they will keep watch in the night, and we will survive together. None needs be starved or hunted or naked.</div>
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Thousands of years pass, and we find that you build homes, and I bake bread, and he raises chickens, and she weaves cloth. And still later, she teaches, and he nurses, and I make machines, and he builds roads, and on and on towards finer and more minute actions. The things we share one to another, the needs we have and things we can offer, are different now, and more abstract and separated, because there are thousands of us and millions of us, each with different needs, different skills, different knowledge, and the beginning absolutes of water and fire and food are very remote, now. But we are still a society, still each putting in and taking out and absolutely reliant on the other.</div>
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It seems to me that now that we are so far from those absolutes, all so content and assured that we can turn the tap and have water, turn on the gas and have heat, and go to the store to find food, that we have developed the luxury of forgetting what a society is, what benefits we take from it, and what responsibilities we owe to it. We have created an illusion of absolute independence, of solitary self-sufficience, because we make our money and pay for our goods and never need to agree to trade one service or one kindness or one promise to another human being who needs to do the same. We come to a place and we are not naked, and we are not cold, and we are not hungry, so we can fail to recognize the person who sews as someone we rely on, the person who farms as someone we are beholden to, even though were we to suddenly be without clothing or food, we would just as surely die. Our social contract has worked so well for us that now there are people who believe absolutely that they need nothing and owe nothing.</div>
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But I am not machining the factory that produces my heat. And you are not paving the roads you drive, or that the trucks carrying your food drive. Without those who are, we are cold and hungry. So even though I don't give you fire for water, I do put a little in the pot so the water keeps coming from the tap. And even though you don't build a roof for someone so that they will dig out a sewer, you put in a little so that the sewers keep moving. Each of us benefits daily from utilities, from trade agreements, from infrastructure generally, so each of us gives a little back to maintain our utilities, make our treaties, and build our roads and schools and hospitals. Otherwise, we are failing our side of the contract; we eat but provide nothing for the warmth of those feeding us. We drink but provide nothing to the water-carrier. In the short term, this is cynical exploitation of a society we rely absolutely on. But in the long term, this destroys the contract, and consequently, the society - when we have no contract, we have no heat, no water, no sewer, no access to food and clothing, no one to watch for the tiger in the night. </div>
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This is not a plausible system; this is not a livable world. Without a society, we are all more or less doomed to die alone, whether of exposure or starvation or disease or attack. So be wary of anyone who tells you that all will be well when we stop supporting our society; this is nihilism. In the most basic terms, this is the end of civilization. If they have already reaped enough benefit from the society that they have fire and meat and water to last them for now, they won't be the ones to suffer when the contract is broken--they may walk away without paying their due or owning up to their responsibility for the society that sheltered them so far. But we are all only one cold night away from the fire going out, and one lonely walk away from the tiger. The lines aren't as clear as they used to be, but we may still look face to face to face and see our survival in the eyes of the other. </div>
Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-43520817708721990422012-10-28T18:18:00.002-07:002012-10-28T18:30:01.594-07:00The righteous sleep worse than the wicked<br />
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I think about that moment when someone asks the bad guy, "How do you sleep at night?" The person who is exploiting other human beings or outright endangering them for some gain or another; "How do you sleep?" the outraged dissident asks them.</div>
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How well?</div>
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Probably pretty well, is my guess. Poor sleep is a sign of guilt or worry or that nagging voice in the back of your mind, or that upsetting confrontation replaying itself over and over; if you've made the decision to behave in a way that disregards human dignity, and to continue to behave that way, you've probably decided that (a) it's worth it, (b) they deserve it, or (c) that's just the way the world works. You're satisfied with that answer and have abdicated any responsibility you might feel for it. There will be nothing to trouble your sleep until something worms its way past the surface. If anything ever does.</div>
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I think about the ethical repercussions of everything I do; my purchases, my causes, my behavior. I have an idea of the world I want to live in, a few clear principles I value, and I make my decisions based on those values, on making that world come to be. I behave as rationally and compassionately as I can. I apply this as broadly as I can. I try to respect my fellow human beings and take responsibility for my actions as they extend out beyond me to touch those fellow human beings. And when I play out the repercussions of policies I think are destructive or inhumane, I also try to find a way to not paint someone who supports that policy with that color, try to give them the benefit of the doubt in considering what aims they might have or what different theories of behavior, of government, and so on they might ascribe to. Or if that fails outright, try to believe they're still a good person--just one with some gaping holes in their understanding.</div>
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I'm the one who doesn't sleep at night.</div>
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I believe I'm right; I don't believe everyone who disagrees with me is evil; I satisfy myself that I am doing my part to make a better world and living up to my own standards, while still allowing myself enough slack to not go insane. But I lie awake having imaginary arguments with people I believe are good people, trying to get them to understand a point of view I think is righteous. I replay moments of people I know expressing some sentiment I think is abhorrent, and of me being too struck dumb to say anything to propose an alternative--and then imagine alternate endings, standing up to their ignorance or unkindness either destructively, by indulging my insult and taking them apart, or constructively, by starting a conversation, sharing information. But I lie awake when I think I have managed to do that, too, dissecting the conversation, wondering about the fallout, wondering if I've done any good, and wondering whether I have lost a friend or failed a cause or both. I look forward in fear to the next conversation, the next confrontation, the next election.</div>
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I wonder whether I have done any good at all.</div>
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I'm the one who doesn't sleep at night.</div>
Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-71110947163457009192012-09-07T15:31:00.000-07:002012-09-07T17:48:39.231-07:00Surrounded by community and lonelyI feel pretty lonely, right now. I've been struggling with this for a while, and with whether to even write anything about it, but here goes.<br />
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I finally feel like I've built some community, here - that I have made some friends, that there are people here that I love. But I always have this aching feeling that in a lot of those cases, that love will never come back to me. Some of it I hope is just ungrounded fear, a symptom of depression and anxiety and insecurity. And sometimes I think it has to do with a a personality defect I suspect I have (maybe a topic for another post). But lately it has been a more existential loneliness.<br />
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I live, now, in the church capital of the country. Almost everyone I meet here is a person of faith--of strong faith that plays a large role in their lives. I understand and appreciate that - it can give community and wholeness to a heart, and direction. It makes the existential terror of death livable, and there is no reason to live your life in terror and insecurity if you have something to believe in. And faith can sometimes bring out the very best in people, propel them to great acts of good, give them the strength for kindness, and I deeply respect and admire that. I am not willing to dismiss the importance of someone's faith in their life.<br />
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But I have no belief of my own. I am something like an agnostic in the original Greek sense, because I know that there cannot be an absolute proof of one faith or another or none, that any one may be right or may be wrong; I know that I cannot know. And in the face of that I cannot dismiss anyone's beliefs, but I can't make myself have a belief in any one thread of millions, either, be it a belief in a god, an afterlife, or the absolute absence of either. It isn't part of me.<br />
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Which is a lonely place to be, especially here.<br />
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I don't talk to people of faith about my lack of it--it's my general policy to leave it be; no one would gain from it. But in a culture of faith, it's probably no surprise that strong believers do talk about their beliefs about the faithless; it's part of their lives and worldviews. It does mean they're telling me what they think of me as part of this nebulous class of people, though.<br />
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For instance, last week I was told about a couple who were terrible to each other, didn't love each other and wouldn't care for each other in their times of need--and that they couldn't, because they hadn't built their marriage on Christ. And I realized that this person I know and am friendly with believes that I wouldn't change a colostomy bag for the love of my life, that I am incapable of care and devotion. I build my life on a love and respect for life, and cherish my loved ones, and believe that people on any path are capable of that, but that doesn't enter into it for her. I didn't know what to say. I was quiet.<br />
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I also hear stories of fear, that loved ones who haven't seen the light will be lost and condemned; and stories of hope and peace, that those who have should not be missed or grieved, for they are in paradise. And I am so grateful for the comfort they can take from that, and that they can feel free to express it, to share fear and love and comfort, to have rich community in times of sorrow. But part of me is reminded in those times of my own losses--and that I never feel that comfort. And part of me is reminded that many of the people I know and love, friends and family, believe I will burn in eternal damnation; that regardless of my kindness or my love or any other goodness they might see in me, I cannot be part of their universe.<br />
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And I wonder which of them know that I am one of those, and which ones don't; which ones suspect it, and whether or how our relationship would change if they knew, and whether some of them will never be close to me because of it.<br />
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At those times I feel just how apart I am from so many of the people I love, and it's hard not to feel lonely.<br />
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I don't know that there's anything to be done about it. I'm just hoping if I can talk about it somewhere it'll ease the feeling a little.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-24930738521656269452012-03-15T13:21:00.000-07:002012-03-15T15:55:31.976-07:00On the best dinner I have ever made; aka, saving spoiling meatI abhor waste. <br /><br />I'm not perfect--I screw up and things go bad or beyond eating--but Grammy's Depression Mentality skipped a generation and hit me full force, and I do what I can. I am suspicious of calls to throw anything away (though Chris luckily provides a sound, cautious balance to any out-and-out packrat behavior), and minimize waste every way I can. If something can go to goodwill, to recycling, to a classroom, or into the compost bin rather than the garbage, I try it.<br /><br />My proudest accomplishment recently was saving meat--poultry, no less--from beyond the brink. <br /><br />In the past, this would have been something we'd have thrown out--it was only three days past its sell-by, but smelled unpleasant through the package, a sign of spoilage, and poultry is notorious for carrying bacteria. But I had looked all over for a large raw turkey breast (we planned to roast it for sandwiches), it was a couple of pounds, and I could NOT stand the thought of letting something so substantial and hard won go without a fight.<br /><br />So I did a little research. How bad is bad? <br /><br />According to <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1392231/Food-past-use-date-Still-perfectly-safe-eat-according-Tom-Rawstorne.html">this article</a> (and the two separate labs and a human test subject involved), it's a lot farther off than we tend to think.<br /><br />I don't understand all forms of spoilage, I'll be honest--but I do understand bacteria and temperature pretty well. While Tom Rawstorne said no to his chicken past-it's-prime, in the article above, the lab confirmed that while the smell was produced by an excess of bacteria, cooking it thoroughly would kill it; the only problem would be foul tastes left behind.<br /><br />I won't eat things that smell or taste rotten; I'm not going to fight with evolution on this one, because I'll lose. But the world has developed plenty of ways to make "bad" food safe and palatable in famines, and I resolved that if I could get the turkey clean enough to NOT smell, and that if I could make it taste good, we would eat it. Reassured that it's safe if cooked through and cross-contamination is avoided, that was all that was left to cover.<br /><br />(I also consulted with Chris to make sure he was okay with this plan; I would never push old meat on anyone.)<br /><br />First, the smell--fat and skin spoil faster than anything else, and the plastic packaging meat tends to come in traps all manner of foul-smelling gases bacteria are emitting. (If you get inflated packages, this is most likely what is going on, there.) So I cut away every scrap of skin and fat I could get to, scrapped the packaging, and rinsed the hell out of the breast in running water. (Rinsing won't kill anything, but water and friction will displace a lot of things, and at the very least dispel the gases clinging to the meat.) Moved it to a clean plate, washed and bleached everything it had touched previously, and hit it from the cats so it could come to room temperature.<br /><br />Room temp. probably sounds like a bad idea, since refrigeration slows bacterial growth, right? But the fastest way to undercooked portions of meats is to put them still cold into the oven or pan; a piece of meat with a cold core will not cook as evenly as a piece of room temperature meat, and uneven cooking is the enemy of safe cooking.<br /><br />I smelled it every hour or so while I was waiting, to see if the packaging stench came back. It did not; there was a distinct smell of meat, strong, but not foul. Step one: success.<br /><br />Second: taste. In case any of the off-ness survived the de-smelling, I wanted to be sure I cooked it thoroughly, safely, and with a lot of strong flavors. I don't want to go that far and come up with something that tastes funny and we won't eat.<br /><br />So I looked at world cuisine. Cuisine from hot climates and from impoverished or famine-struck nations has developed in response to avoiding or curing spoilage; if you can't afford to throw anything away (famine) or food pre-refrigeration would go off in the heat too quickly (equatorial zones), you find a way. Hot climates have cultured spices and very hot peppers, which in addition to having vibrant enough tastes to hide off notes, have some <a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2012/03/12/148304942/to-cut-the-risk-of-a-high-fat-meal-add-spice?sc=fb&cc=fp">health benefits</a> related to insulin and heart disease, and have <a href="http://www.news.cornell.edu/chronicle/98/3.5.98/spices.html">serious anti-bacterial properties</a>--they retard or reverse spoilage.<br /><br />So do garlic, onions, and alcohol - here we get into the impoverished era of French cooking.<br /><br />Now I know "famine" isn't generally how we think of French food; French food is what comes incredibly expensive in incredibly small portions in incredibly fancy restaurants. But how do you think anyone decided eating frog legs and snails was a good idea? This was not the product of a rich nation.<br /><br />A segment of french food comes down almost entirely to stewing for a long time (killing bacteria with heat; making tough cuts or scrap meat tender) and cooking with wine (alcohol will kill almost anything). The onions and garlic are an added bonus.<br /><br />Anyway, I've been making a lot of curries and middle-eastern dishes lately, so I thought I'd try my hand at French. This is almost always Chris's bailiwick--southern French, northern Italian, Provençal--but he has taught me how to make two of the best things in the world: marinara and boeuf bourguignon. <br /><br />Beouf bourguignon is taking hunks of beef and sauteing them with garlic and onions before (guess!) stewing them with vegetables for three hours in red wine (Burgundy, specifically) and stock. It is the most delicious thing in existence. (And stewing for that long would also hide how not-crisp those carrots and how soggy those mushrooms were, too). I knew there had to be chicken versions of this, too, with white wine, and confirmed that <i>fricasée de poulet au vin blanc</i> is a common enough dish, so I decided <i>fricasée de dinde au vin blanc</i> would do nicely--even though the turkey is a New World bird, not common in French cooking.<br /><br />Here were the basics: <br /><br />First, take as read that any time the turkey touched any implement, the implement was cleaned before it touched anything else--including the turkey as it was cooking. All veggies had devoted boards and knives that never came in contact with the turkey.<br /><br />*Sauted garlic and onions in butter until slightly browned.<br />*Still on the bone, seared both sides of the breast.<br />*Almost covered with water, added a clove, salt, pepper, and a little wine (see below) and boiled for about 30 minutes, turning midway (this step should have killed everything even potentially dangerous, and as a bonus made the gorgeous turkey stock I wanted with the stew)<br />*Removed the breast, let it cool slightly (left the stock boiling down to concentrate; tasted the stock to be sure it was excellent before going any further--it was)<br />*Cut the meat off of the bone into hunks, returned to the boiling stock (in case any part of the meat close to the bone didn't cook thoroughly, this took care of that)<br /><br />*Chopped up a pile of carrots, celery, and mushrooms; added to the stock<br />*added the rest of a half-bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to the stew (remaining half to have with the stew at dinner, naturally)<br />*set the whole thing to a gentle simmer and let it go 2-3 hours<br /><br /><br />Now I'm paranoid about off-tastes; usually, even the fear of something being off might convince me something tasted wrong. Not so, here: this was, without a doubt, the most delicious entree I have ever made. I even managed to whip up a sourdough-starter-aided crusty white bread to serve with it, and some green beans, so the meal was complete and gorgeous and <i>trés Français</i>.<br /><br />I suppose I should say "replicate at your own risk"--be sensible about any food risk you decide to take, everyone is different... but if all of the appropriate precautions are taken, there really isn't any risk to speak of.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-29438546418498533062012-03-06T10:52:00.003-08:002012-03-15T11:04:02.526-07:00PSA on Women's Health and Bodies, Part 2Birth control is for sluts? What if I said I wanted to be on birth control so that, if one of these guys hopped up on viagra (that his insurance provided him) assaulted me, I'd at least be protected from pregnancy? <br /><br />(I like to hope this is paranoid, but it crosses my mind more than I'd like to admit.) <br /><br />For the record, I'm in a monogamous marriage to a man with a vasectomy, but in light of my history, have been strongly encouraged by my doctor to stay on birth control indefinitely, to (1) lower my chances of getting another ovarian tumor (and possibly losing the other ovary with it), and (2) avoid losing a half pint of blood every month. This is good for them, too, of course; ultrasounds to follow the progress of cysts, surgery, bloodwork, and care for anemia cost them more than my birth control does.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-44931242512405931442012-03-06T10:36:00.004-08:002012-03-15T11:11:49.709-07:00PSA on Women's Health and BodiesBefore you shave your twat (or ask your special friend to shave hers), please bear in mind that the denuded vulva is essentially indistinguishable from that of a nine year old girl. Food for thought.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-42432521196017631812011-09-07T22:26:00.002-07:002012-03-15T11:00:29.240-07:00Babylon 5 binge is go.Because my birthday is coming up...<br /><br />Because I had the foresight to work out an Amazon wishlist for the first time.. er.. ever...<br /><br />Because Chris is FANTASTIC and loves me and has the excellent taste to share my interest...<br /><br />(And because Amazon is listing all the suckers at approx. 1/3 the usual price, hint hint, this is the time to look...)<br /><br />...we are now the proud owners of our very own complete set of <i>Babylon 5.</i><br /><br />No more hauling a season's worth of my mother's VHS tapes up from LA when we realize we might want to have access. No more waiting months to trade it out for another season. No more years of drought because we didn't think to do it or she was re-watching or... <br /><br />Granted, seeing the commercials that were being aired in Torrance in 1998 on TNT during the original airing of River of Souls was kind of an amazing time capsule. Especially the one for how they were going to be recording Monday Night RAW at the Anaheim Pond (back when it was still the Duck pond, bless it), because I remember watching that commercial <i>then,</i> and we <i>went,</i> and we even trekked out to Venice Beach because Chyna and Triple H were going to be hanging out at the outdoor gym and we wanted to meet them and she was so freaking <i>sweet</i> and I still remember her nail polish... <br /><br />...but not a really sustainable relationship. And anyway, I'm on a Bruce Boxleitner binge and have run out of movie-of-the-week Westerns from the 90s that are available for instant streaming. I'm going to be good and wait out Michael O'Hare--we're starting over from the beginning, just watched the pilot, <i>The Gathering,</i> last night--but it won't be long.<br /><br />Anyway, short version: <i>love.</i>Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-24097431412420499402011-01-25T14:15:00.000-08:002012-03-15T11:10:10.836-07:00Newer update! All is well. Everyone who sent good vibes: it worked great. Everyone at Kaiser was wonderful and kind, and they even got me in early and gave me pictures, after; everything went swimmingly. I'm home safe and sound, now, one ovary (and one tangerine-sized cyst attached thereto) lighter. Gotta' take it easy, but everything should be fine in a few weeks. Now I'm going to slip back into a sweet, snuggly, slightly anaesthetized nap with my kitties, but wanted everyone to know things are fine first. Love you all so much. <3Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-48777127165197444442011-01-24T15:37:00.000-08:002012-03-15T11:10:28.521-07:00Update:I have surgery in the morning (laparoscopic cystectomy, woooo). I'll be home tomorrow afternoon and everything should be fine, but thought everybody should be in the loop.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-8475147445332549132010-06-20T17:42:00.001-07:002012-03-15T11:08:46.990-07:00Don TortugaOkay, we've got a turtle.<br /><br />It's been a week with no response from anyone. Seems like he'd just crawl right back out of Christina's pond if we tried to put him there. ...And I'm attached. So I'm not sure how I'd feel about a "hey, anyone want a turtle?" post on Craigslist, considering how he came to me in the first place.<br /><br />(Yes I am--I'd be suspicious of askers and guilty about giving him up or prying about living-conditions-to-come.)<br /><br />So, we committed. We have a turtle.<br /><br />He doesn't have a name yet; we think his surname is Tortuga (Spanish for Turtle, and just an awesome sounding name as it is), so for now we're calling him Don Tortuga and "TURTLETURTLETURTLE!" but we'll see about a proper first name soon.<br /><br />Finally figured out a reasonable spot for him, where *I* can get to him and clean him, since this is on me. I spent the day outfitting him with a tank and appropriate turtle accoutrement and plants and pretties, and he seems pleased. He's still in the process of exploring, but at least now he can hide and swim. He still hasn't figured out the basking thing, but maybe he'll get there soonish, now that he has a light to encourage him up there.<br /><br />There are some pictures from his previous home (especially of him playing Headless Horseman and making Sleepy Face), but there will be proper, well-lit pictures from his new home, soon, and you can all see the handsome tortuga!Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-66563544018667682252010-06-13T13:31:00.000-07:002012-03-15T11:08:46.990-07:00Hrm.So we have a (temporary) houseguest.<br /><br />It is a turtle.<br /><br />He swam into my backyard (...they over-water, at these places) from under a neighbor's fence, and he doesn't belong to that neighbor. Or the neighbor on the other side, or to anyone the manager of our complex knows of, or to the neighbor beyond the neighbor on the other side, or to the man I yelled to from my upstairs window who was in the yard of the house behind the neighbor whose fence he swam under, or the other people who answered their doors when I knocked. (This turtle is helping to socialize me.) My bets are currently on the people behind *our* place, whose fence overlaps a little with next door, and who frequently neglect animals in their backyard, but I haven't seen them out to call down and I'm not sure from the street which house is theirs. And I'm not sure I want to go hand it to them if they don't call and ask, considering how poorly everything else I've seen back there tends to look.<br /><br />So I've posted on Craigslist and put up a few signs on the blocks of mailboxes for our complex and for the street behind, and we're hoping. And in the meantime, one of my neighbors very sweetly let me borrow an aquarium tank, and after some research I'm doing what meagre I can to make him a little basking dock considering I have no driftwood and no large rocks, though so far he's a little too freaked out to come out of the water onto it. He's in a warm room.<br /><br />Spinach and cherries is what I have that I can think of to feed him, so far.<br /><br />Of all the myriad critters I have impromptu cared for before or had in the menagerie we called our house growing up, I have never, ever had a turtle. Or known anyone who had a turtle.<br /><br />Sooo. Anyone know some home-grown temporary care tips for a Red-Eared Slider Turtle?Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-52234125083396924932010-06-08T22:32:00.001-07:002012-03-15T11:08:03.546-07:00...Hrm.I should have written this before, but:<br /><br />California, plz to be remembering that all those rolling blackouts we had a few years ago? were the direct result of privatizing energy, NOT of the Democratic governor we got afterwards. The few areas with remaining public utilities did NOT lose power. In LA (with our public LADWP) we sat back on our laurels and didn't have to worry about energy strapped Edison and PG&E selling our short energy to their shell companies in other states and then buying it back at a higher rate from themselves, consequently cranking up rates to customers, and then not having enough to satisfy demands (in accordance with the scripture of profit maximization in the free market).<br /><br />....You realize that's what Prop. 16 would encourage. Right..?<br /><br />....That it means there would be overwhelming hurdles to switch any of the privatized districts back over to public utilities ever, and that it would likely be impossible to ever overcome that again...?<br /><br />Plz to be considering. Thx.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-35562760622659625942010-05-16T13:24:00.000-07:002012-03-15T11:19:48.821-07:00Whiplash updateThe brief disjointed semi-clinical version because it's difficult to appropriately react to the good things and the bad things in the same confined space in any kind of meaningful way and can't work out writing four separate whiplash entries:<br /><br />MSO concerts (performing Verdi's Requiem) were this weekend, fantastic - Friday night was amazing. Chris said best MSO concert he's ever seen. Other MSO folk thought Saturday was somehow even better; I felt like I wasn't as good, and am persisting let down, but that may be the lack of St. John's Wort talking.<br /><br />Still haven't heard back about the second ultrasound, yet (plan to ask about going back on the St. John's Wort then). Would really like to know soon.<br /><br />Allergies are death.<br /><br />Hands/wrists/forearms have stopped working; awful persistent pain with.. well.. any use. Limiting typing and computer work as much as possible. Also can't knit, crochet, wind yarn, hold needles for sewing, hold pencils for any length, play guitar or ukulele, or hold a book - can't grip anything for any length - not sure what options this leaves me for any activity at all. (What doesn't use your hands?) Hours on end of point-and-click computer work and knitting bingeing appear to have been the proximate triggers. Keep testing to see if I can start again and inevitably fail in flames. Then had to hold the heavy Verdi score in untenable hand position for the 4 hour Thurs. rehearsal, the 2 hr Fri dress, the 2 hr Fri concert, and the 2 hr Sat concert. Yesterday had trouble holding a water glass without spilling it on myself, or holding my fork long enough to eat my dinner. Yes: having to take breaks while eating. Had to get a brace for the score-holding, but am indeed going to the doctor to see how to deal with/fix/cope with this. Absolutely miserable.<br /><br />Considering going out and buying a hard back, to see if I can kind of pin it open with a cookbook holder to read. REALLY don't want to spend the next week of my life with TV and cleaning* as my only solo activities. (*Failed at the attempt at dusting/scrubbing, too; broke a favorite old ceramic I'd made.) Plus, will have to work, not many options to not. Can't really work without aggravating, though. May still risk knitting night because I'm going crazy, but we'll see.<br /><br />Did have a good Modesto/Turlock experience Fri/Sat - hit three different farmers markets and kinda' was able to pretend these are walking cities, rather than commuter cities. Felt a little better. Saw an absurd number of people I recognize, for this area, felt a little less disconnected from it.<br /><br />SF went well; got there and back w/out a hitch, events were awesome, had some good San Francisco Experiences and good walking and wandering, even if some of it was in dispiriting pursuit of wifi or after taking the absolutely wrong BART stop for my frivolity. Loved the trip; hate traveling without Chris. The two bettas I got the Saturday before leaving died the Wednesday I left. They didn't have names yet. Think their demise is my fault.<br /><br />One of mom's cats--a sweetie goof named Biscuit--has gone missing, been gone for two weeks. <br /><br />Albert is dead. Tried tree guy at nursery, emergency surgery, emergency repot, but failed utterly. I'm so sorry.<br /><br />Love--Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-23758256283018330982010-05-14T10:31:00.000-07:002012-03-15T11:05:30.022-07:00Oh, for fuck's sake.Dear California,<br /><br />Please <a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2010/05/schwarzenegger-to-unveil-his-latest-budget-proposal.html">raise my taxes.</a><br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Lauren<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><small><br />Update: letters to gov + senate/assembly reps.<br /><br />The version for the governor:<br /><br /><i>Dear Governor Schwarzenegger,<br /><br />Please raise my taxes.<br /><br />Please.<br /><br />A few percent off of income to spare devastating cuts to important social services and programs will cost us so much less in the long term; fewer disenfranchised and desperate people, fewer students without books, fewer elderly without care, and fewer people ill with no recourse is well worth a lot more of my money than I am currently giving to the state. I love my state and I owe her plenty for all she has given me; please ask for it. I will give it gladly.<br /><br />Thank you,<br />[Name]<br />Life-long Californian</i><br /><br /><br />Version for Senator and Assemblyperson (altered because they're so publically committed to reducing spending to the exclusion of raising funding):<br /><br /><br /><i>Dear Senator Denham / Assemblyman Berryhill,<br /><br />Please raise my taxes.<br /><br />Please. <br /><br />For the sake of protecting our state, we cannot continue to reduce spending rather than raise income. A few percent off of income to spare devastating cuts to important social services and programs will cost us so much less in the long term; fewer disenfranchised and desperate people, fewer students without books, fewer elderly without care, and fewer people ill with no recourse is well worth a lot more of my money than I am currently giving to the state. I love my state and I owe her plenty for all she has given me; please ask for it. I will give it gladly.<br /><br />Thank you,<br />[Name]<br />Life-long Californian</i></small>Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-81016139817685548272010-04-15T01:26:00.001-07:002012-03-15T11:14:50.687-07:00Scattered showers.So my earthquake prediction was superfluous at best. According to the US Geological Survey's site, there were 32 quakes notable (3.5 or above) in the SoCal region between Jan 1 and April 3 (i.e. before the big Easter quake). <br /><br />From April 4th to now, there have been 157. (And at least 14 of those first 32 were probably foreshocks.)<br /><br />So, uh. Yeah. Quakes in SoCal--check. So far nothing big on the San Andreas proper, though, which is to tell the whole truth what I had in mind.<br /><br />(Decided to look it up because the cats were acting powerful weird, today. But I think in retrospect they've just caught my cold. Which brings me to: )<br /><br /><small>Gotta cold. :( </small> I got sick once a year, when I was a kid. And I've been sick five times in as many months, now. And I think I gave it to the cats, which is awful, they're being completely pathetic mama'spoorbabiesmama'ssososorry.<br /><br />And of course, as is foretold in the scriptures, if I am sick, I will be busy. And if I am busy--especially if I am in some way essential to someone else's being able to get things done--I will get sick. Hélas.<br /><br />I am busier tomorrow, which is nice. Tomorrow, they try to echolocate my uterus <strike>for fun and profit</strike> <strike>to see if it's been secretly replaced with a kitchen appliance or crocheted facsimile thereof</strike> to look for fibroids, which were the bane of my mother's existence before she went nuclear on them. She was 42, but I'm precocious.<br /><br /><small>Is it weird/terrible that I want it to look awful? Does that make any sense? I want there to be an excuse. I will feel pretty hopeless if there's not a ready culprit to blame for the last fifteen years of fun with questionable reproductive health.</small><br /><br />Also tomorrow, we're going to the Stanislaus 50 Year Golden Gala - not the main school event this summer that will celebrate the 50 year anniversary of our founding that you .. um.. may have heard about, depending on how closely you follow .. . oh.. LA Times, CNN, Fox, Reuters/AP.. Yahoo news feeds.. . but a Music department fundraiser commemorating the same that should be fabulous (please let me not sneeze through it or be.. like.. virulent and infect everyone around me).<br /><br />...And if you are outside central California and have caught wind of these things, and wondered where you'd heard the name "Stanislaus" before, well--you probably heard it here. That's us: we're so, so proud.<br /><br />Please, Leland--and please, Mr. Brown--save us from ourselves. Or rather, save us from our fucking foundation board. - Hugs and kisses, Lauren.<br /><br /><br /><br /><small>P.S. I require bendy straws.</small>Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-52513571539398001972010-04-11T18:33:00.000-07:002012-03-15T11:20:44.504-07:00That's your horoscope for today.What a strange weekend.<br /><br />At the conference we were at, we were crashed by a con woman, two people passed out, nobody slept, and there were a whole lot of jittery, anxious, tense people. And (when we passed through Bakersfield) there was definitely a kind of Biblical plague motif replete with sandstorm and random hard objects coming from the sky.<br /><br />Plus, earthquake weather.<br /><br />(If an earthquake hits SoCal today, someone will owe me a nickel. But I will probably not want it.)<br /><br />In other news: it's cold and wet, here. My cats are still fat (fatter, even), despite a year of strict dieting. I must have said the magic words to the doc, because I get an ultrasound Thursday. The ugly lumps on my mom's back (we thought they were a reaction to spider bites) may be shingles, and I have what I assume are <i>actually</i> spider bites turning into ugly lumps on my legs. In two weeks, I get to attend/man/help out at my first NESsT event, in SF. ...Now I just need to figure out how to get to SF from here. Wish me luck!Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-82136218894990400242010-04-08T10:13:00.001-07:002012-03-15T11:07:54.897-07:00PSAHeads up in case anyone else out there has a credit card with 1st Financial Bank USA:<br /><br />I got a notice a while back saying they were going to make some unpleasant change to my account, and that I could opt out of it. And that if I opted out, they'd close out my account at the end of the next billing cycle.<br /><br />So I didn't opt out.<br /><br />Well, I got another notice more recently saying that they were going to assess an annual fee to my account (because clearly their hardships are so great, in spite of disgusting APRs, that they need to scrape a little more off). And that I could opt out. No threat of closing my account. I tried to email--to see if there was some kind of punishment for opting out that they weren't mentioning--but they declined to respond.<br /><br />Well, I finally called this morning, and they were very nice, and much to my surprise, just repeated their spiel about their hardships and how they're trying to raise revenue, and... opted me out. No penalty.<br /><br />So let me recap. There is an annual fee being assessed on every count, unless you ask them not to.<br /><br />They are essentially hoping (a) you won't read the notice, (b) you'll assume there's a catch and not risk it, (c) you'll decide for the good of 1FBUSA that you don't mind, or (d) you'll forget about it. They are literally levying a fee for not reading a smaller type face.<br /><br />So if you have a card with them, and haven't already opted out, I just thought I'd let you know that you could without a hassle! Cheers.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-25144285962281600282010-04-04T22:31:00.000-07:002012-03-15T11:20:44.504-07:00Some caveats.I embarrass easily. Too easily. I am awkward and paranoid of upsetting or being upset. I second guess myself immediately when I've said or done something that could even POSSIBLY have potentially discomforted anyone in any way, or be considered unfair, and immediately work up a superficial case for proof that I have done so and that I should try to fix it.<br /><br />That has some bearing on the rest of this post, so I figured I should mention up front.<br /><br /><br />First of all, I'm in LA. I don't ever mention that I'm going or that I've been, if it's going to be a short or busy trip and I don't have time to stop and see anyone non-familia down here. This is primarily due to the awkward, embarrassed paranoia. I hate the prospect of telling anyone I won't be able to see them. This potentially antisocial behavior will probably continue, and I am only mentioning it now because:<br /><br />This afternoon we were in Long Beach, which is some 330 miles closer to Mexicali than Turlock is. And though we were still some 150 miles away from the epicenter, we still felt the earthquake significantly and for a long time. <br /><br />BUT: we are all okay. Far enough away that it had left the jar-your-foundation-into-dust mode and gone right into roll-the-whole-area-like-a-tilt-a-whirl. ....It was really neat from Long Beach, actually, just lovely and big and rolling and lilting for a couple minutes. I love feeling earthquakes, but I know I'm really lucky to be away from the epicenter and without property damage (another caveat added due to paranoia).<br /><br /><br />Second of all, and unrelated to the earthquake, but related to my awkwardness/paranoia caveat and to my previous post: <br /><br />I hope it was very clear to everyone that I did NOT mean that the lynch-ish racist segment of our population <b>=</b> everyone opposed to the health care bill, or even everyone into the Tea Party movement. (....You got that, right...?) <br /><br />I think that that kind of hateful/fearful crisis fervor is clearly a core motivation for a significant number of people involved in these things (see also: the upsurge in Christian militia movements). But I DO know that people can have very different motives and lines of reasoning for being involved, completely unrelated to that. I may not agree with your position, but that doesn't mean I think you appreciate or condone what assholes are doing under your banner, or that you think the way they do.<br /><br />Just... needed to make sure that was really clear.<br /><br />Okay. < / paranoid clarifications. > (There are more, but there really is no place for them here.)<br /><br /><br />I hope everyone else is okay earthquake-wise, and that everyone you know is okay, and that our jokes about incoming tsunamis prove to be just that. I am going to bed, and then we're getting in the car and going back home. ...I am sad we will probably not feel the aftershocks. (Write your own caveat here.) Although after southern Chile, northern Chile, and northern Mexico, we kind of wonder if there's an arrow pointed up towards L.A. and San Francisco. We're going to lay by some water and cat food, just in case.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-82726107691985761162010-03-26T22:35:00.000-07:002012-03-15T11:05:30.023-07:00Because I haven't posted about it yet...So Monday night, when Chris was driving home from class, someone pulled up behind him honking, then pulled up beside him, and flipped him off.<br /><br />Chris went: ?<br />And then: Oh. Right. Obama sticker on the back of the car. (This sort of thing happens in Turlock.)<br /><br />The articulate driver rolled down his window to engage in political discourse (i.e. yell at Chris while he was a captive audience at the light). Chris obliged by rolling his down, too.<br /><br />The unhappy driver's irate contribution was, "You actually <i>like</i> what this guy is doing to the country?"<br /><br />And Chris, though enchanted, just rolled back up his window and continued home.<br /><br />It was sort of par for the day--light, for the day. Teabaggers were busy accosting Democrats in the House, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/03/20/tea-party-protests-nier-f_n_507116.html">spitting on and yelling ni**er at</a> black congressmen, and otherwise clarifying their position. Health care reform opponents were also <a href="http://cbs13.com/politics/health.care.reform.2.1591391.html">cutting propane lines, throwing bricks,</a> and generally making threats to people voting for reform.<br /><br />...Now I know there's such a thing as getting riled up. I know there can be a lack of discipline at rallies, and that people can act out. But you know what a lack of discipline looks like at the kind of political actions I participate in? Sneaking in a mismatched flag that's not part of the message. Or letting out a "Where the fuck's the funding?," or getting snarkier on a sign than is necessary. It does NOT look like violence, racial slurs, or an actual need for extra security.<br /><br />Number one rule of protesting: You demonstrate the comparative righteousness of your position if--though YOU are nonviolent--the opposition's only way to deal with you is to become violent themselves. Violence towards protesters sitting in or blocking the way or just being there is an admission of having nothing intelligent to say on the matter, is an acknowledgment that your position does not hold up on its own. Violence is the recourse of badly seated power, because it cannot win an argument, cannot peacefully engage, cannot win its aims by legitimate means, but only by a show of force or intimidation.<br /><br />The dynamic can be made just as clear when the protest is what turns violent and ugly in the face of attempts at peaceful discourse.<br /><br />If there's going to be a total regression of a segment of our country into the old let's-lynch-black-people-and-socialists days, I hope that the nature of said movement will at least become a little clearer to the general public. Not much in the way of silver lining.<br /><br />...But you know what is?<br /><br />32 million newly insured Americans. People getting to actually go to the doctor when they have a stomach ache, rather than when their appendix is already septic and about to rupture (unlike my baby brother, who got dumped off of my mom's insurance just in time to need major surgery, instead of timely surgery). People getting vaccinations and preventative care cheap, before we get rampant epidemics from untreated diseases and have to pay several times more to treat them in ERs anyway. And just possibly, maybe a little lowering in the absurdly high infant death rates and deaths from preventable diseases. Oh, and a lowering in the deficit. Oh, and of the overall costs of health care. Improvements in the lives of EVERYONE in this country, not just the ones who were uninsured.<br /><br />Getting honked at and yelled at really seems absolutely worth it. Once in a while, persisting peacefully in the right works out.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-2411104439358413082010-03-13T16:53:00.001-08:002012-03-15T11:11:07.040-07:00Aventures in Animism (picspam day.. um.. continued)...Because I just finished Bunny's sweater.<br /><br /><img src=http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Knitting/bunny.jpg><br /><br />Doesn't he look handsome?<br /><br />And while I'm at it..<br /><br />Fred and Albert over Christmas:<br /><img src=http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Saving%20Fred/fredandalbert.jpg><br /><br />(Albert looked like something out of Dr. Seuss. I thought this was a romantic shot.)<br /><br />Clearly, I have spent the last two days drinking tea on the sofa while knitting and watching the first couple seasons of <i>Ballykissangel.</i> It's the only explanation.<br /><br /><br />Important: tomorrow is international Pi day (get it? 3.14?) and also Albert Einstein's birthday (another reason I had to post Albert pics). Double-geek holiday! We are making pies (HA HA), and if I can manage to get Chris to suffer it, watching <i>Young Einstein.</i> <br /><br />And Wednesday, of course, is St. Patrick's Day. I may omit the traditional recipe/music/something maudlin post, this year; please take it as read! I will be cooking, singing, and drinking well into the night.<br /><br />LOVE!Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-77706153976472140442010-03-10T00:06:00.001-08:002012-03-15T11:04:02.527-07:00HairThis is my fifth attempt at writing this post. I hope this is the healthier, happier, more positive version:<br /><br />Hair can be healthy. <br /><br />Hair on a female body is not more unclean than hair on a male body; women who do not shave are not somehow unhygienic, and will not smell any worse than anyone else who does not shave. Hair on a female body does not grow longer than hair on a male body; left unchecked, it will not dangle several feet or turn into an underarm fright wig. Like male body hair, it will grow, stop being stubbly, soften, and <i>stop getting longer,</i> just like all the rest of the hair on every other part of every other body. <br /><br />It is not somehow natural or inherently right to remove hair: women have not been shaving forever, and in the US, shaving underarms started with ad campaigns in the 1910's, and leg shaving sometime during WWII. Hair has served an evolutionary purpose in our history; before it thinned out, it served to warm us, and it still makes us more sensitive to our surroundings. Thicker patches help regulate temperature and carry pheromones out to other members of our species, which those of us prone to smelling one another can find to be a positive experience.<br /><br />Women who do not shave are not messy or lazy; they have a variety of reasons for not shaving, aesthetic, political, social, or sensual. They are not by some strange commutative property overweight and unattractive. They are not unmatchable, as far as mates are concerned, whatever their gender of preference. There are plenty of people who don't care, who don't mind, who come to understand, who slightly prefer, who appreciate, or who adore body hair. They have a variety of reasons for that, too.<br /><br />Hair is not the enemy. Hair can be fun; hair can be pretty; hair can be sexy. Hair can be soft, gentle, and comfortable. Hair can be confident and strong. Hair can be wild and feral; hair can be demure and tidy. It can be feminine; it can be feminist. It can be sweet and it can be stubborn. Hair can be anything we want it to be, and we do not have to hate it or be afraid of it. It is ours to do anything we like with. If that happens to be removing it, then happy hunting. And if not, it is ours to keep in peace and pleasure and thrift and comfort and anything else we like.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-23920971591472263502010-02-26T00:19:00.001-08:002012-03-15T11:11:07.041-07:00I FINISHED THE SHAWL!Pic spam, I can't help it:<br /><br /><img src="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Knitting/gailfinspread.jpg?t=1267171722"><br /><br />YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!<br /><br />And then Arthur helpfully modeled the shawl:<br /><br /><img src="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Knitting/gailfinArthur.jpg?t=1267171605"><br /><br />...and so did Chris!<br /><br /><img src="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Knitting/gailfinChris.jpg?t=1267171643"><br /><br /><br />...And one more vamping it up, just for fun:<br /><br /><img src="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Knitting/gailfinvamp.jpg"><br /><br />I started this damn thing in August and put it down (several times), but now it is finishéd, and I love it to pieces. I think I should wear it absolutely everywhere, for a while, and just preen. RAVELYMPIC GOOOOOLD!Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-74630232388099469152010-02-25T12:26:00.001-08:002012-03-15T11:08:46.991-07:00Pic spam day, part one: Impossible Cuteness of a Cat NatureI haven't shared photos in a long time.<br /><br />I have a lot.<br /><br />So easiest may be to do it in waves, and just link you to pics on photobucket. So round one:<br /><a href="http://s297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Kittens/">The kitten album.</a><br /><br />If you want to just ooh and awww at all the collected sweetness (or rather, the fraction of the collected sweetness I have uploaded over the years - they just had their second birthday, btw!), you can go there and peruse new and old at your leisure. But here are the new additions broken down:<br /><br />Alex thinks Chris is a <a href="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Kittens/alexbackbraids.jpg">chair</a> and a <a href="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Kittens/alexback.jpg">catbed.</a> (Or maybe a jungle gym, s'hard to say.) Alex is also <a href="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Kittens/alexhuge.jpg">huge.</a> <br /><br />They are both impossibly <a href="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Kittens/kittwist.jpg">snuggly,</a> with one another and <a href="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Kittens/familycuddletime.jpg">with us.</a><br /><br />Talk about love, man.<br /><br />But here's one pic of them being both impossibly snuggly and impossibly cute. HB (the stuffed Bunny) is in the pic with them.<br /><br />One, two, three: Awwwwwww<br /><br /><img src="http://i297.photobucket.com/albums/mm224/BlindSwandive/Kittens/kittoosweet.jpg"><br /><br />Later today (possibly): a very Fred and Albert Christmas, a very monochrome Halloween, and at least one good picture of my enormous, FINISHED, Blocking-as-We-Speak shawl.<br /><br />Man I'm behind.<br /><br />LOVE to you all!Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-74249968827904727222010-02-21T21:07:00.000-08:002010-02-21T21:09:08.851-08:00SWEETNESS!Mom called to point this out to me. <br /><br />This photo which I link is from the website of J.R. Celski, USA Olympic Speedskating Bronze Medalist and All-Around Cutie-Pie.<br /><br />Three boys in this picture. Said Cutie-Pie is on the left. And the shaggy-haired delinquent on the right...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.jrcelski.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/7-28-06-JR-Raymond-John.jpg">(Lakewood in the house!)</a><br /><br />...is my baby* cousin! <br /><br />Is it not a small world?<br /><br />(Cousin has talked about his friend a number of times in recent memory, including mentioning the Olympics. It took me until about four days ago to put it together. Or rather, for my mom to call and remind me, and me then remember. Go me!)<br /><br />I estimate they were maybe 14 in this picture, and are obviously a lot more grown up and (at least in cousin's case) significantly less shaggy. Ah, how the time flies...<br /><br /><br /><small>*He is not really so much a baby, being something absurdly like 21, but I retain the right to label him in this way, because I remember his birth. It counts!</small><br /><br /><br />ETA: The more I look at this picture, the more I am certain I have met this boy at least once. Probably briefly, while said boys were transiting through (as teen boys do) from one door to the next during a family function. I could easily be making this up, though.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22533835.post-83427832385787516612010-02-13T16:25:00.000-08:002012-03-15T11:05:30.024-07:00Memo to Meg:Your priorities are (according to your ad spots that I cannot seem to escape) to create and keep jobs, cut government spending, and fix education...<br /><br />And you say you're disappointed to see how far California has fallen, in the 'many years' you've been here, and that you want to bring us back to where we were...<br /><br />But I gotta' help you out with your California history, here. Or else with your connective logic; I'm not sure where the problem is.<br /><br />Do you know when California had the best educational system in the country, Meg? With incredible access to higher ed and successful K-12? <br /><br />When we had higher property taxes. Before we decided we needed 2/3 of the legislature to approve any tax or fee or pass a budget, rather than a simple majority, but that a simple majority could cut a tax or fee, or write in corporate loopholes. Before we started giving corporate welfare to Wal-Mart.<br /><br />Yes, on the surface, our business tax is very high, in CA. Much higher than other places. But the effective tax rate - after all of the gaping loopholes - is one of the lowest in the country.<br /><br />Yes, we had very high property tax rates, in the '70s. But now, they're (again) one of the lowest in the country.<br /><br />Our spending per pupil has also dropped to 49th. We were first in the nation, when our K-12 was dazzling. You know what property taxes paid for in California? <br /><br />Education.<br /><br />Our budget crisis is not a crisis of excessive spending; there is no public spending left. Our budget crisis is a crisis of inadequate inflow.<br /><br />So the second point is a point of connections.<br /><br />Education--all education in California--is critically, criminally underfunded. Access has been destroyed, as individual costs have skyrocketed and funding has crashed. Education is a large part of the public sector - a little over half of our general fund goes there (which makes sense; we have 6,259,972 students in public K-12 alone - add in 191,000 in UC, and 417,112 at CSU, and around 2,500,000 students in our community colleges; around 9.4 million students all told.)<br /><br />"Education" is government spending. It cannot be cut any further. Even Schwarzenegger has accepted this point. It's been cut too far; we cut so far we screwed ourselves out of stimulus funding, if that's not the irony to beat all ironies. We've cut so far that we've failed to follow our own laws about how great a percentage of high school students we will accept into higher ed.<br /><br />So I guess what I mean to say is this: You cannot both cut government spending and fix education. You cannot both cut government spending and take us back "to where we were." You certainly can't create a corporate capitalist version of tax utopia and fix the schools.<br /><br />And I'm so, so disappointed that you have so much money that I'm seeing YOUR ads all over TV already, and have yet to see a spot for Jerry Brown.<br /><br />(Brown, by the way, was governor when we DID have a functioning educational system, when we were rolling in the fucking milk and honey. If you want things back "the way they were," maybe you should throw some funding behind him, hm?)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Now. Back to my Olympics (and consequently, my Ravelympics: I'm participating in Event WIP Dancing, though if I get far enough ahead, I may take up some Event Sock Hockey or Hat Halfpipe - wish me luck!). Just needed to get that out, first.Lulu--Back in Townhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09907408392497890295noreply@blogger.com0