I have an idea: stop lying.

I'm glad American media outlets and *gasp* Congress are letting Jessica Lynch and the Tillman family (finally) have an "official" voice. To put it eloquently, as is my nature, what the Pentagon put them through is crap. Served on a glittery spoon, we swore it was pudding and we ate it up. "Pudding," they said. "Mmmm."

Stay tuned for the next blockbuster to be put out by Pentagon Studios. Directed by Michael Bay of course.

New York Times article
Forbes article
CNN article

The wisdom of Eddie Izzard.

Just two quotes.
That's all.

"Guns don't kill people, people kill people, and monkeys do too (if they have a gun)."

"And the National Rifle Association says, 'Guns don't kill people, people do,' but I think the gun helps. I think just standing there going, 'Bang!' isn't going to kill too many people, is it?"

Yesterday sucked.

The Virginia Tech college newspaper

Half a mile. That's it.

Yesterday I managed to make it to the park before the sun disappeared. Despite the unseasonable weather, it was actually a good day for running (then too-soon-after walking). Many others had the same idea—dog walkers, stroller pushers, playground players—all in an effort to coax timid spring out of the closet. It didn’t work.

I used to visit this park daily when the weather was above forty degrees and not raining, and sometimes even when it was raining. I lived down the street, a mile and a half’s run, and being there was part of my routine. I miss it. I miss the regulars. I saw only one yesterday, and our relationship only ever developed into slight head nods, never the hellos and even smiles and waves shared with others. Sweaty McTanrunner was not there; his schedule must have changed this past year when I’ve been absent.

I knew to value that time of my life, at the park especially. It's a very rare occasion when a human being can appreciate a moment in the moment. Perhaps, ironically, impermanence is what made those years so satisfying.

So I'm just going to reintroduce myself to the squirrels and the woodchuck and the regulars who I hope are still regulars.

And my husband is hotter than Sweaty McTanrunner anyway :-)

So it goes.

Writer Kurt Vonnegut passed away yesterday night. I've admittedly read only Slaughterhouse-Five, but his other books have been on my to-read list since I was seventeen years old. I can understand why he's very many people's favorite author, and I'm sad that he will not be around to continue commenting on the ridiculousness of humanity, which will no doubt supply much material. So if you haven't yet, and if nobody has told you to do so yet (which I doubt), read a book of Kurt's in his honor. I have Slaughterhouse-Five if you want to borrow it.

Boston Globe article

A PhD in Sawyer anatomy

I want credit!

Well, God does love everyone.

Mr. Fish (2007). “The Real Cause of Global Warming.” April 10. http://www.truthdig.com/cartoon/item/the_real_cause_of_global_warming/

Boys of summer?

Update:

Tomorrow's forecast for the home opener at NYSEG Stadium?

A high of 40 degrees and a.m. rain.

Oh the weather outside is frightful

It was warmer on Christmas morning than on Easter morning this year.
What the heck?

The boys are back in town.

Weather forecast for opening night at NYSEG stadium: 49 degrees with 60 percent chance of rain/snow shower. Baseball's back!

Sometimes structure is soothing.

It turns out writing haiku is fun, and since this blog is really just a self-indulgent therapeutic tool, I’m going to write more. (Don’t worry, April is not a theme month.) So subsequent entries will be haiku. Comments are welcome as always, but with one stipulation: the comment must also be in haiku form (three lines; five, seven, and five syllables respectively).

LOST
Is that bear polar?
Don't worry! Sawyer is here!
You won't get eaten.

James is an a-hole.
So? He shot a polar bear.
Poor, poor polar bear.

Jack and Kate? No way!
Jack is way too self-righteous.
And he wears a shirt.

Sawyer wears no shirt
when digging a hole in sand.
She said "paralyzed"!

A haiku

March has occurred now.
The sun has melted the snow,
revealing garbage.

Breaking news

I took a magical online quiz the other day to find out who my celebrity boob twin is. My celebrity boob twin is Charlize Theron. Coincidentally, she is also my face twin. Lucky lady.

Women ride elevators too.

In my list of articles you should read (to the right) is one discussing Vienna’s decision to use more progressive gender signs when labeling such activities as diaper changing and elevator use (this was previously a man-only sign). Vienna is going to begin displaying diaper-change signs with an image of a male doing this activity. Crazy! Why would we want to (1) acknowledge that men change diapers, (2) encourage this activity, (3) stop making men feel shame for doing a “woman’s” job, and (4) stop alienating men who are participatory, involved, and competent fathers? I can’t think of any reason.

The next thing you know Clorox will start saying “Papa’s got the magic of Clorox” (thankfully now only Mama’s got that magic); JIF will allow choosy dads and grandpas to choose JIF all by themselves (thankfully now they make a point to say “choosy moms—and dads/grandpas—choose JIF); and Pine Sol, Clorox, Lysol, Swiffer, Scrubbing Bubbles, Glade, baby shampoo, etc. products will start showing men using their products in their commercials. I’m sure Jerry Falwell and Franklin Graham will agree with me when I say such occurrences will likely be the reason God brings the next natural disaster or terrorist attack to the United States. In addition, women must continue to be the sole cleaners of toilets and disinfectors of kitchens or else they will turn into lesbians.

In all seriousness, of course women use cleaning and cooking products, and women change diapers and take care of babies, and this is perfectly okay; I’m not suggesting females stop doing these activities. What I am suggesting is that men be acknowledged for doing the same activities. Gone are the days when men could get away with not changing diapers because their lack of competence was cute and expected (unless you are watching America’s Funniest Home Videos with Jean Wickham in Celebration, Florida, and they show a series of men dry heaving while trying to change a poopy diaper—then it’s cute. And I’m sure women dry heave at baby poop too, it’s just not shown on America’s Funniest Home Videos). Vienna, at least, has begun to acknowledge that men are just as important and capable as women in child rearing and cultivating a healthy and loving family life, maybe because women are being acknowledged (although not yet payment-wise) as just as important and capable as men in providing income.

Cheers to you, Vienna. It's a start.

Before you feed your pet:

I hope this is old news to you, and I hope your main source of news is not my flaky blog, but just in case: read this article before you feed your cat or dog.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/US/03/17/petfood.recall.ap/index.html

Here is the list of recalled food (taken directly from the article):

Recalled cat foods
Americas Choice; Preferred Pets; Authority; Best Choice; Companion; Compliments; Demoulas Market Basket; Fine Feline Cat, Shep Dog; Food Lion; Foodtown; Giant Companion; Good n Meaty; Hannaford; Hill Country Fare; Hy-Vee; Key Food; Laura Lynn; Li'l Red; Loving Meals; Main Choice; Nutriplan; Nutro Max Gourmet Classics; Nutro Natural Choice; Paws; Presidents Choice; Price Chopper; Priority; Save-A-Lot; Schnucks; Sophistacat; Special Kitty; Springfield Pride; Sprout; Total Pet; My True Friend; Wegmans; Western Family; White Rose; and Winn Dixie.

Recalled dog foods
America's Choice; Preferred Pets; Authority; Award; Best Choice; Big Bet; Big Red; Bloom; Bruiser; Cadillac; Companion; Demoulas Market Basket; Fine Feline Cat; Shep Dog; Food Lion; Giant Companion; Great Choice; Hannaford; Hill Country Fare; Hy-Vee; Key Food; Laura Lynn; Loving Meals; Main Choice; Mixables; Nutriplan; Nutro Max; Nutro Natural Choice; Nutro; Ol'Roy; Paws; Pet Essentials; Pet Pride; President's Choice; Price Chopper; Priority; Publix; Roche Bros; Save-A-Lot; Schnucks; Springsfield Pride; Sprout; Stater Bros; Total Pet; My True Friend; Western Family; White Rose; Winn Dixie and Your Pet.

call 1-866-895-2708 for more information.

Family reunion.

For those of you who know my cat Gibson, I've found his long lost brother:

The F-word.

I’m probably now just one of a bagillion people who have commented on this story, but in case you are not apprised, I’m commenting.

Speaking at the Conservative Political Action Conference, Ann Coulter said the following:
“I was going to have a few comments on the other Democratic presidential candidate John Edwards, but it turns out you have to go into rehab if you use the word ‘faggot,’ so I—so I’m kind of at an impasse, and can’t really talk about Edwards.”

Hoe lee kah rap.
Rehab? I don’t really get why that’s funny, or how it makes sense. If by “rehab” you mean advertisers will pull their ads from your Web site and newspapers will drop your column, then I get it. And you are a big fan of making up your own definitions for words anyway:

“I didn’t use an insulting word. I used a schoolyard word, about a married man with children—for the eight billionth time, and the audience knew that. I mean the joke wouldn’t have worked if I had inserted the name of a gay Democrat. Any other Democrat, the name could have been inserted. It could have been Howard Dean or Hillary Clinton because it’s a schoolyard taunt meaning wuss, meaning nerd, meaning weenie, meaning lame.” (says the lady on Fox News)

So, Ms. Coulter, let me get this straight: it’s not an insulting word, but you wouldn’t use it for a gay Democrat? Why not? Aren’t some gay people “nerds” too? So, following this logic, you could call Hillary Clinton the N-word, but not Barack Obama? I mean, calling someone an N-word is really just calling him or her a dummyhead, right? Well, as long as they are not black.

The editor of The Lancaster, PA, newspaper New Era, who dropped Ann’s column after her statements, put it best:

“Lancaster County residents of whatever political view—conservative, moderate, or liberal—deserve intelligent discussion of issues. Ann Coulter no longer provides that.”

I don’t know, nor do I want to know or even think about, why she chose to use the word. I’m just glad people recognize how horrible it is.

And Ann, just for future reference, the Webster’s definition for “faggot” is: “usually disparaging: a male homosexual.”

Funny, I don’t see “weenie” in there at all.

Love Letter #20

Dear Sawyer,

You are my last February love letter. Thank you for not buttoning your shirt all the way and for teaching Jin to be a smooth lover. You should have told Kate you were sorry. Wait, better idea: you should have taken off your shirt and told her you were sorry. But you know this. I enjoy our Wednesday nights. Stay dirty.

Love,
Tara

Love Letter #19

Dear psycho lady from Hartford at the BU basketball game,

I do not generally encourage psychoness, but in your case I will make an exception. Not only was the game at which I saw you the most entertaining game of basketball I've ever attended, but it was the most entertaining postgame show I've ever witnessed. I have you to thank for this. You and your red sweater and frantic disposition. Your overzealousness and your general disregard for blood pressure rate or the well-being of those around you are to be admired--from the mezzanine, far, far away.

Remember when you got yelled at for going onto the court? What was up with that? Didn't that student worker know that you have a right to talk directly to the referee? I'm sure you told Coach Liebovitz, and Coach Gallagher, and Coach Gerlufsen, and Coach Broadnax all about it, and they rightly sympathized until you left them alone. That Coach Gallagher is a great hugger, isn't he? He sure looked like a good hugger--from the mezzanine, far, far away.

The ticket stub from this game may make it into my scrapbook.

Love,
Tara

Love Letter #18

Dear NPR (especially Steve and Renee),

You know my feelings for you. Please don't ever leave me.

Love,
Tara