Competent speechwriter. Textbook work. Hit all the buzzwords. Namedropped the right swing states.
But man, she's smug.
And how come that baby's always asleep, especially with all that noise?
And why on earth did McCain go out there?
And don't even get me started on the dye job that is Cindy McCain.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Bat Mitzvah About Face
Started stressing about numbers.
Abandoned elegant restaurant.
Going with Shriner Sons of Mason Elks Hall.
Checking out deli catering menus.
Anyone know a fun, cheap band in East Coast Big City?
Abandoned elegant restaurant.
Going with Shriner Sons of Mason Elks Hall.
Checking out deli catering menus.
Anyone know a fun, cheap band in East Coast Big City?
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Meg Cabot Gets Indie Cred
M is reading the fifth Princess Diary book. She just announced that it mentions the Donnas and the Sahara Hot Nights within two pages. Wow.
You Knew I Wouldn't Be Able to Stop
When the historians take on this election, years into the future, or perhaps it will only take till next year when the reporters go on leave to write their books, they will discover that the signal issue in this election was not, as we all thought, either race or gender.
In the primaries, when we had a white woman senator from New York facing off against a Black male senator from Chicago, it was race and gender (and whether Obama is from Kansas, Hawaii, or Indonesia, he came into this election from Chicago).
But now, with the entrance of the white woman governor from Alaska, the issue has shifted--as I believe the issue has truly shifted in our country, as identity politics fades away into economic politics--to class, and, in particular, to class as mapped across the urban/rural divide which, in the last election, was the truest indicator of voter preferences (you could also call it, and somebody recently has, though I can't remember who, the cosmopolitan/local divide, which is easy to frame as hierarchical, though it really isn't) (and yes, I mean class in the complicated culture/education/career way, not simply the financial way--yikes, maybe I'm turning into David Brooks).
Race still matters, gender still matters (I'm still not David Brooks), but despite McCain's apparent belief to the contrary, he has a lot more in common with Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama than he does with Sarah Palin (and Bill Clinton has a lot more in common with Sarah Palin).
This is where liberal bloviators risk digging us so deep we lose an election we should by all rights be winning. The Palins are like a whole lot of American families, probably a whole lot more American families than the Obamas are (and I say that as someone whose family is a lot like the Obamas--I'm guessing my girls' bookshelves look a lot like Malia and Sasha's, and I'm guessing all their bookshelves are a lot bigger than most--but also as someone who spent eight years right smack in the middle of the heartland, with a lot of families who look just like the Palins). And while I do believe that a lot of people will vote their policies not their identities in the coming election, at a certain point, if your identity is being battered, you can't help but want to stand up for it.
Which is why things like this and this, from the heart of the liberal elite (one definitively, and one I'm just assuming), are so completely counterproductive.
The Republicans are doing it to themselves this time around. Let's just sit back and let them do it, without putting ourselves in the position of appearing to be to blame. Argue that McCain's terrible vetting of Sarah Palin shows his bad judgement, argue that Palin flip-flopped on the Bridge to Nowhere, argue that abstinence education does not work and the vice president of a 72-year-old president should have more foreign policy experience than living across the sea from Russia, read this, but leave lifestyle and cultural politics out of it.
Edited to add: Bob Herbert, I'd definitely rather be Bob Herbert than David Brooks.
In the primaries, when we had a white woman senator from New York facing off against a Black male senator from Chicago, it was race and gender (and whether Obama is from Kansas, Hawaii, or Indonesia, he came into this election from Chicago).
But now, with the entrance of the white woman governor from Alaska, the issue has shifted--as I believe the issue has truly shifted in our country, as identity politics fades away into economic politics--to class, and, in particular, to class as mapped across the urban/rural divide which, in the last election, was the truest indicator of voter preferences (you could also call it, and somebody recently has, though I can't remember who, the cosmopolitan/local divide, which is easy to frame as hierarchical, though it really isn't) (and yes, I mean class in the complicated culture/education/career way, not simply the financial way--yikes, maybe I'm turning into David Brooks).
Race still matters, gender still matters (I'm still not David Brooks), but despite McCain's apparent belief to the contrary, he has a lot more in common with Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama than he does with Sarah Palin (and Bill Clinton has a lot more in common with Sarah Palin).
This is where liberal bloviators risk digging us so deep we lose an election we should by all rights be winning. The Palins are like a whole lot of American families, probably a whole lot more American families than the Obamas are (and I say that as someone whose family is a lot like the Obamas--I'm guessing my girls' bookshelves look a lot like Malia and Sasha's, and I'm guessing all their bookshelves are a lot bigger than most--but also as someone who spent eight years right smack in the middle of the heartland, with a lot of families who look just like the Palins). And while I do believe that a lot of people will vote their policies not their identities in the coming election, at a certain point, if your identity is being battered, you can't help but want to stand up for it.
Which is why things like this and this, from the heart of the liberal elite (one definitively, and one I'm just assuming), are so completely counterproductive.
The Republicans are doing it to themselves this time around. Let's just sit back and let them do it, without putting ourselves in the position of appearing to be to blame. Argue that McCain's terrible vetting of Sarah Palin shows his bad judgement, argue that Palin flip-flopped on the Bridge to Nowhere, argue that abstinence education does not work and the vice president of a 72-year-old president should have more foreign policy experience than living across the sea from Russia, read this, but leave lifestyle and cultural politics out of it.
Edited to add: Bob Herbert, I'd definitely rather be Bob Herbert than David Brooks.
And Now For Something Completely Different
I want a Raclette grill! I loooooove Raclette, though part of the fun is scraping the melted parts off the big block o' cheese in a mountainous environment, which would be hard to recreate at home, at least at my home... [link from M]
What Has Become of Me?!
Today I'm even down with Brooks (his argument makes a lot of sense, except for the fact that, in typical Brooksian, "I'm so post-everything" style, he leaves out gender, which is kind of like talking about Obama without mentioning race--note to world: we're not there yet, people).
Mostly, though, I continued to be dismayed by the judgementalness of the mommy and liberal blogospheres and the overwhelming tides of self-righteous hypocrisy on every side of the spectrum (I've been sickly fascinated by the response of the right, though hanging out over there will make you despair of everything). Stuff happens in families; nobody is immune; she may have bad politics, but...oh god, I'm starting to repeat myself, so no more Sarah Palin unless something new happens.
Maybe I'll have some middle-school drama for you later.
Mostly, though, I continued to be dismayed by the judgementalness of the mommy and liberal blogospheres and the overwhelming tides of self-righteous hypocrisy on every side of the spectrum (I've been sickly fascinated by the response of the right, though hanging out over there will make you despair of everything). Stuff happens in families; nobody is immune; she may have bad politics, but...oh god, I'm starting to repeat myself, so no more Sarah Palin unless something new happens.
Maybe I'll have some middle-school drama for you later.
Monday, September 01, 2008
Todd Palin had a DUI
when he was 22? Oh my god. So totally not relevant to anything. Do you know any trustworthy intelligent adults who had DUIs in their youth? Uh, I do (sorry, no identifying characteristics this time, but it wasn't me). I'm guessing if we vetted the reporting staff of the NY Times, the Wall Street Journal, CNN, and Fox News, we'd find quite a few youthful DUIs. And it wouldn't matter!!!!
God, this whole thing is going to turn me into some kind of raging discreet moderate!
God, this whole thing is going to turn me into some kind of raging discreet moderate!
But We Can Still Talk About Palin's Positions
Libby is right: Rebecca Traister is totally on it, as usual. Which gives me the chance to point out something else I've noticed about Palin: she's not as simplistic as people want to make her out to be. I should have links here, but I don't feel like putting that much energy into this post, so I'll just point out that saying creationism should be taught alongside evolution is different from saying evolution should not be taught, and according to Traister, she has not been a huge advocate of abstinence-only sex ed, as people are insinuating. Maybe she's just being politically savvy, and there's a raving wingnut deep inside, but I don't think so. I do think joining a group called Feminists for Life has meaning, meaning that's complicated and as difficult for lots of pro-lifers to deal with as it is for feminists to swallow, and meaning that Palin seems to be walking as well as talking.
There is a lot wrong with Sarah Palin as a potential vice president, if you have my kind of politics, but demonizing her into a right-wing caricature is not going to get us anywhere.
There is a lot wrong with Sarah Palin as a potential vice president, if you have my kind of politics, but demonizing her into a right-wing caricature is not going to get us anywhere.
Palin Pregnancies
I guess sometimes a belly is a bump, and that's all I'm going to have to say about Palin pregnancies (barring unforeseen--but at this point not unimaginable--further revelations).
Anything else--she should be home with the baby, she should have been home with Bristol, she shouldn't have flown home from Texas, she shouldn't be putting her kids through this--is mommy-driveby territory, and I won't go there (at least in public), and I don't think the Democrats or the bloggers or anyone else should either (except maybe Jon Stewart) (because aren't you just dying to see Jon Stewart, even though you know it's very very wrong?).
Anything else--she should be home with the baby, she should have been home with Bristol, she shouldn't have flown home from Texas, she shouldn't be putting her kids through this--is mommy-driveby territory, and I won't go there (at least in public), and I don't think the Democrats or the bloggers or anyone else should either (except maybe Jon Stewart) (because aren't you just dying to see Jon Stewart, even though you know it's very very wrong?).
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Of Bellies and Bumps
When I was in my early 20s, I weighed about 30 pounds, give or take, more than I do now. I was always healthy: I ran a lot, but I also ate and drank a lot. You wouldn't have called me fat, but you might have called me big or round, or some other such gentle euphemism, and, despite the claims of my loved ones to the contrary, you would have been right.
During this period, I went to Bermuda with my father. Actually, I was supposed to go with my father, but somehow the fact that one needed a passport to go to Bermuda escaped me, and I arrived at the airport only to turn around and go home, instead of to Atlanta where I was to meet my father to fly together to Bermuda. It wasn't a big deal: I rescheduled everything for later in the day, somehow notifed my father, without cellphones, and everything was fine, except that I landed in Bermuda by myself, a round hippie kind of chick, presumably with some sort of luggage inappropriate to a resort island, and no distinguished bearded older gentleman to protect her.
I don't know if it was the age or the changed flights or the hair or the clothes, but they went for me. As the distinguished older vacationers cruised through customs, the immigration officials painstakingly went through every corner of my luggage. They checked the little bag with my toothbrush and opened my box of tampons. At that point I was getting a little annoyed, and when the woman searching my stuff asked "what's this?" just before she opened the box, I replied, loudly, "Tampons!" but she still opened it.
I was partly on the verge of tears, and partly on the verge of calling in the troops, because the irony was that my dad was spending a lot of time in Bermuda those days consulting for the government, and was at that very moment, I believe, meeting with the Minister of Tourism. But then it got worse.
The woman reached across the table, poked my belly, and said, "What's this? A baby?" To which I replied, indignantly, and incredibly proud that I was not crying, "No, I'm fat." She clearly realized at that point that she'd gone too far (did she think I had drugs strapped around my middle?), and my belongings were hastily replaced in their bags and I was ushered out the door. At that point, I was so relieved to be out of there, that I don't think I even told my dad.
Needless to say, this experience, not to mention my general body image and feminist ideologies, has made me very sensitive to the shouts of "Baby bump!" that seem to accompany any photograph of a female between the ages of 15 and 45 whose stomach is anything less than pancake flat. These days, I'm not a big person at all, but I still have a belly. M, who is fabulously gorgeous, thin, and perfect, has a belly. Today at the pond, I saw exactly one female whose belly was flat, and she looked fine, but so did everyone else. And the pregnant females, of whom there were many? Uh, what they looked was pregnant.
I'm going to refrain from commenting on the question of who gave birth to Trig Palin unless rumor is proven true (and while it just seems too strange, we all know about truth and fiction). But I am thinking that this totally sucks for Bristol Palin, whatever the truth of the matter. And I hope that her mother will be able to take time from succoring the imminently hurricane stricken and stoking the campaign fires to reassure her teenage daughter that it's quite OK to have a belly.
During this period, I went to Bermuda with my father. Actually, I was supposed to go with my father, but somehow the fact that one needed a passport to go to Bermuda escaped me, and I arrived at the airport only to turn around and go home, instead of to Atlanta where I was to meet my father to fly together to Bermuda. It wasn't a big deal: I rescheduled everything for later in the day, somehow notifed my father, without cellphones, and everything was fine, except that I landed in Bermuda by myself, a round hippie kind of chick, presumably with some sort of luggage inappropriate to a resort island, and no distinguished bearded older gentleman to protect her.
I don't know if it was the age or the changed flights or the hair or the clothes, but they went for me. As the distinguished older vacationers cruised through customs, the immigration officials painstakingly went through every corner of my luggage. They checked the little bag with my toothbrush and opened my box of tampons. At that point I was getting a little annoyed, and when the woman searching my stuff asked "what's this?" just before she opened the box, I replied, loudly, "Tampons!" but she still opened it.
I was partly on the verge of tears, and partly on the verge of calling in the troops, because the irony was that my dad was spending a lot of time in Bermuda those days consulting for the government, and was at that very moment, I believe, meeting with the Minister of Tourism. But then it got worse.
The woman reached across the table, poked my belly, and said, "What's this? A baby?" To which I replied, indignantly, and incredibly proud that I was not crying, "No, I'm fat." She clearly realized at that point that she'd gone too far (did she think I had drugs strapped around my middle?), and my belongings were hastily replaced in their bags and I was ushered out the door. At that point, I was so relieved to be out of there, that I don't think I even told my dad.
Needless to say, this experience, not to mention my general body image and feminist ideologies, has made me very sensitive to the shouts of "Baby bump!" that seem to accompany any photograph of a female between the ages of 15 and 45 whose stomach is anything less than pancake flat. These days, I'm not a big person at all, but I still have a belly. M, who is fabulously gorgeous, thin, and perfect, has a belly. Today at the pond, I saw exactly one female whose belly was flat, and she looked fine, but so did everyone else. And the pregnant females, of whom there were many? Uh, what they looked was pregnant.
I'm going to refrain from commenting on the question of who gave birth to Trig Palin unless rumor is proven true (and while it just seems too strange, we all know about truth and fiction). But I am thinking that this totally sucks for Bristol Palin, whatever the truth of the matter. And I hope that her mother will be able to take time from succoring the imminently hurricane stricken and stoking the campaign fires to reassure her teenage daughter that it's quite OK to have a belly.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Sarah Palin 2, or I Think We're All Post-Feminist Now
Back in the day, I always voted for the woman. I can tell you exactly when that day was, too. It was my first year of college, and I was faced with a long slate of names of people running for student government, none of which I recognized. So I went right down that list with my pen, first checking off all the women, then the visible minorities.
Ah, those were the days.
Not so much.
I don't know when I stopped automatically voting for the woman, but I bet it had something to do with Hopefully Not About to Again Become A Red State, where there was a good-sized contingent of women politicos (politicas) whose values had nothing to do with anything I cared to vote for. It probably also--theoretically, rather than practically--had something to do with living through the 80s as a feminist, and realizing the profound limitations of feminism as it had been construed, not by its original founders, many of whom were incredibly sophisticated about issues of race and class, but by a whole lot of white women in the years thereafter. In other words, I realized that gender, though always important, is not always of prime importance.
Fast forward to this morning.
Let's be clear (and not at all original): the only reason John McCain chose Sarah Palin is that she's a woman. If her name were Stuart Palin, and she had been governor of the battleground state of Alaska--not!--for two years, she would not have flown to Dayton this morning. Sure she's conservative, and smart, and popular, but she's the new governor of Alaska. Not so much the VP demographic, except that she's a girl.
Which means that John McCain, the Republican candidate, presumably as anti-affirmative action and identity politics as they come, just went whole hog for the identity ticket. Whereas I told my girls that Obama chose the person who would be best for governing, not necessarily campaigning, and that I wholeheartedly approved, McCain made his choice purely instrumentally, based on nailing down the conservative Christian votes and trying to seduce those PUMAs (who appear, from what I've been reading in the non-mainstream media, to be not quite so many as the mainstream media would have us believe).
I'm sure there are people out there who vote solely based on identity (choosing the woman, the Black person, the Christian, regardless), and I'm sure there are people who do, as the pundits believe, vote on likeability (I bet I'd do just fine chatting with Palin on the sidelines of a soccer game, just as I did with all my conservative Christian friends in that state where I used to live) (that parenthesis was not at all facetious--I did have conservative Christian friends, and I quite liked them, but we never talked politics, just teachers and homework and Halloween costumes). But I'd like to think there are other people besides me who vote the issues.
(Or at least, who first consider the issues, and only then turn to identity and likeability. Because I was fine with Hillary on the issues, just like I was fine with Obama, which meant that I could then think about things like effectiveness and likeability, which meant I didn't vote for Hillary, though I also didn't vote for Obama because he was Black.)
But let's get back to feminism. Lately I've been hanging out with some smart, savvy, political young women of color who feel pretty much the same way I do when it comes to most things political. Except that I am a feminist and they are not. One of them said, last time we discussed it, that the term just makes her sad. And I get that: if you're a young woman of color, feminism as it's been lived out (not just portrayed) in American culture can be pretty unwelcoming (see Seal Press and WAM, Pandagon, et al [oh god, I just can't find the perfect link, try Jackie back in April to start]).
Sarah Palin is the apex of the best and worst of feminism. That a 44-year-old mother of five could be a governor is because of feminism at its best: women now have opportunities and the capacity to achieve in ways that were unimaginable 40 years ago. That John McCain would choose a woman as his running mate simply to grab women voters is a manifestation of feminism and identity politics at their worst--pandering "choices" designed to get the powers that be what they want.
So you know, at this point, I'm really fine with letting feminism go. I'll still call myself a feminist, but I'm not going to go out on a limb for the terminology, though believe you me I'll always go out on a limb for the rights of women. But I'll also be limb-climbing for the rights of people of color, immigrants, the poor, children, gays, whoever needs their rights the most at any particular moment. And I don't really care what you call me or it. In fact, I lost interest in the politics of symbolism and labels a long time ago. What I care about is justice and fairness and basic human rights and economic viability for everyone (let's just lump education, health care, and housing under economic viability).
And that's why I'm still voting for Obama.
Ah, those were the days.
Not so much.
I don't know when I stopped automatically voting for the woman, but I bet it had something to do with Hopefully Not About to Again Become A Red State, where there was a good-sized contingent of women politicos (politicas) whose values had nothing to do with anything I cared to vote for. It probably also--theoretically, rather than practically--had something to do with living through the 80s as a feminist, and realizing the profound limitations of feminism as it had been construed, not by its original founders, many of whom were incredibly sophisticated about issues of race and class, but by a whole lot of white women in the years thereafter. In other words, I realized that gender, though always important, is not always of prime importance.
Fast forward to this morning.
Let's be clear (and not at all original): the only reason John McCain chose Sarah Palin is that she's a woman. If her name were Stuart Palin, and she had been governor of the battleground state of Alaska--not!--for two years, she would not have flown to Dayton this morning. Sure she's conservative, and smart, and popular, but she's the new governor of Alaska. Not so much the VP demographic, except that she's a girl.
Which means that John McCain, the Republican candidate, presumably as anti-affirmative action and identity politics as they come, just went whole hog for the identity ticket. Whereas I told my girls that Obama chose the person who would be best for governing, not necessarily campaigning, and that I wholeheartedly approved, McCain made his choice purely instrumentally, based on nailing down the conservative Christian votes and trying to seduce those PUMAs (who appear, from what I've been reading in the non-mainstream media, to be not quite so many as the mainstream media would have us believe).
I'm sure there are people out there who vote solely based on identity (choosing the woman, the Black person, the Christian, regardless), and I'm sure there are people who do, as the pundits believe, vote on likeability (I bet I'd do just fine chatting with Palin on the sidelines of a soccer game, just as I did with all my conservative Christian friends in that state where I used to live) (that parenthesis was not at all facetious--I did have conservative Christian friends, and I quite liked them, but we never talked politics, just teachers and homework and Halloween costumes). But I'd like to think there are other people besides me who vote the issues.
(Or at least, who first consider the issues, and only then turn to identity and likeability. Because I was fine with Hillary on the issues, just like I was fine with Obama, which meant that I could then think about things like effectiveness and likeability, which meant I didn't vote for Hillary, though I also didn't vote for Obama because he was Black.)
But let's get back to feminism. Lately I've been hanging out with some smart, savvy, political young women of color who feel pretty much the same way I do when it comes to most things political. Except that I am a feminist and they are not. One of them said, last time we discussed it, that the term just makes her sad. And I get that: if you're a young woman of color, feminism as it's been lived out (not just portrayed) in American culture can be pretty unwelcoming (see Seal Press and WAM, Pandagon, et al [oh god, I just can't find the perfect link, try Jackie back in April to start]).
Sarah Palin is the apex of the best and worst of feminism. That a 44-year-old mother of five could be a governor is because of feminism at its best: women now have opportunities and the capacity to achieve in ways that were unimaginable 40 years ago. That John McCain would choose a woman as his running mate simply to grab women voters is a manifestation of feminism and identity politics at their worst--pandering "choices" designed to get the powers that be what they want.
So you know, at this point, I'm really fine with letting feminism go. I'll still call myself a feminist, but I'm not going to go out on a limb for the terminology, though believe you me I'll always go out on a limb for the rights of women. But I'll also be limb-climbing for the rights of people of color, immigrants, the poor, children, gays, whoever needs their rights the most at any particular moment. And I don't really care what you call me or it. In fact, I lost interest in the politics of symbolism and labels a long time ago. What I care about is justice and fairness and basic human rights and economic viability for everyone (let's just lump education, health care, and housing under economic viability).
And that's why I'm still voting for Obama.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
What I Have Accomplished Today
- Sent M's immunization record to her school
- Arranged for M to re-enter the gifted program she dropped out of last year
- Signed M up for dance classes (her swim team has disbanded for the moment, so she's decided to try dance, which makes my life so much simpler, as dance is around the corner and involves no parental transportation, plus dance does not interfere with dinner)
- Transported M to grandparents
- Picked up M's friend and transported her to M at grandparents
- Monitored activities of M and friend once they returned from grandparents
- Paid enormous late movie fine and rented more movies which will inevitably engender more fines
- Wrote 20-page handbook for giant project at E's school that I am thankfully handing off to other stooges--I mean dedicated volunteers
- Wrote draft of materials for board I'm on
- Made deviled eggs
- Fed and attempted to nurture ailing E (who watched TV the entire day, enabling my productivity, though I was never more than 10 feet from her, except when I was getting her food or one of us was in the bathroom)
- Organized social event (OK, that was just emailing a bunch of people who turn out to know each other to say we should get together and proffering time and place that were accepted)
And it's only 5:30. And Lucy should show up any minutes, so maybe I'll even have some fun!
- Arranged for M to re-enter the gifted program she dropped out of last year
- Signed M up for dance classes (her swim team has disbanded for the moment, so she's decided to try dance, which makes my life so much simpler, as dance is around the corner and involves no parental transportation, plus dance does not interfere with dinner)
- Transported M to grandparents
- Picked up M's friend and transported her to M at grandparents
- Monitored activities of M and friend once they returned from grandparents
- Paid enormous late movie fine and rented more movies which will inevitably engender more fines
- Wrote 20-page handbook for giant project at E's school that I am thankfully handing off to other stooges--I mean dedicated volunteers
- Wrote draft of materials for board I'm on
- Made deviled eggs
- Fed and attempted to nurture ailing E (who watched TV the entire day, enabling my productivity, though I was never more than 10 feet from her, except when I was getting her food or one of us was in the bathroom)
- Organized social event (OK, that was just emailing a bunch of people who turn out to know each other to say we should get together and proffering time and place that were accepted)
And it's only 5:30. And Lucy should show up any minutes, so maybe I'll even have some fun!
I Just Can't Help It
In which Ayelet drops names, wears another terrible dress, and makes sure we know that she and her husband love to touch each other. It's good to know that some things don't change.
(What? You think I'm going to watch the new 90210 for you too? Ha!)
(And did I mention how APPALLING the media is? Oh god, I can't even go there, plus you can see for yourself. But, you know, the bloggers are no better. In fact, you know what the bloggers are? Boring.) (Oh man, this post could be such a meta-commentary on itself in so many loopy ways, except, well, it's not, it's just some rambling parentheses.) (Though I have been tempted lately to rent that summer season where Dylan and Kelly...well, you know...)
(What? You think I'm going to watch the new 90210 for you too? Ha!)
(And did I mention how APPALLING the media is? Oh god, I can't even go there, plus you can see for yourself. But, you know, the bloggers are no better. In fact, you know what the bloggers are? Boring.) (Oh man, this post could be such a meta-commentary on itself in so many loopy ways, except, well, it's not, it's just some rambling parentheses.) (Though I have been tempted lately to rent that summer season where Dylan and Kelly...well, you know...)
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Ayelet in Denver
Tim Gunn Would Not Like Me
I wear jeans just like these all the time. (Am I the only person who thinks Thom Gunn every time I see Tim Gunn? Probably.)
To Do
There is What I Have To Do. There is What I Want To Do.
I think I will do what I have to do, and then I will do what I want to do.
Only I don't want to do what I have to do.
So I read novels and play WordTwist.
I want to read novels, only they are not What I Want To Do. And they are certainly not What I Have To Do. I enjoy reading the novels, but I feel guilty.
Let's not even talk about WordTwist.
I always do what I have to do when it needs to be done, but by that point, there's no time for what I want to do.
Some people say it's because I have too much to do. Which is true.
Except for the novels and WordTwist.
I thought I would catch up at the beginning of the summer and then I would have the summer. Only I'm still not caught up.
I think I will do what I have to do, and then I will do what I want to do.
Only I don't want to do what I have to do.
So I read novels and play WordTwist.
I want to read novels, only they are not What I Want To Do. And they are certainly not What I Have To Do. I enjoy reading the novels, but I feel guilty.
Let's not even talk about WordTwist.
I always do what I have to do when it needs to be done, but by that point, there's no time for what I want to do.
Some people say it's because I have too much to do. Which is true.
Except for the novels and WordTwist.
I thought I would catch up at the beginning of the summer and then I would have the summer. Only I'm still not caught up.
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