26 January 2007

Video Break

I found this bit of funnyness over at Whoopee.

And this has GOT to be fake. Right? Right?? (Start watching about 1:40 in)

25 January 2007

A weird problem

My friend has an Issue. A kind of odd issue, the kind of thing the InterWebs are great at giving advice about.

His birthday is September 11. 9-11.

The first year of 9-11, the birthday was easily forgotten. Everyone was in shock and pain.

He thought maybe it would become more normal as the years went by, but it is still weird to celebrate on that day. It is even weird to tell people when his birthday is, because they always wince.

Question: Should he lie about his birthdate?

There are new things for your reading pleasure at both Linkateria AND True Employee Confessions.

24 January 2007

Oh no. Not that.

Mr Stapler said that, by having so many readers (dozens!) I am bound to change my writing because I can feel my audience listening. That may be somewhat true, but you know what is really changing the way I behave?

Becoming a church board member. Who knew that getting elected to the board would make me self-conscious about my behavior? I am in grave danger of becoming a real Church Lady. I feel like I can't flip people off when I drive anymore, for one.

I mean, what if the idiot drivers happen into my church and see my nametag and go, "You're a board member? You're the bitch that flipped me off one morning as you tried to merge onto the freeway!"

The other day I saw a headline that struck terror into my heart.

"Former Church Official Indicted in Scandal."

I thought "Oh crap. Whatever I do, from now on I will either be a Present Church Official or a Former Church Official."

I don't tend to be scandal-prone, usually, but you never know. Weirder things have happened.

I just really hope I'm never in a news story with "Former Church Official" in the headline.

23 January 2007

A Star is Borne

My life is pretty much Groundhog Day. I tend to do the same things at the same time, or thereabouts. It's not as bad as Harold Crick, quite, but it's pretty rare that you find me doing something completely new.

Last night I did something completely new. Something that made my brain stand up and say "Hey! What is going on here?" No, not Ecstasy, silly.

I took an improv comedy class. Me and 7 other lunatics met in a tiny cold theater downtown to be coached by a tall, funny director named Gary. All of the other lunatics were return vistors, so I was the only complete bumbling newbie.

But I knew a thing or two. I have visited Thr Groundlings on several occasions. I have watched Whose Line is it, Anyway? on occasion. So I am practically Ryan Stiles, eh?

I was prepared to commit to my character. To stay in the moment. To loosen up and let go. And even knowing all that, I failed miserably at times. But, hell, kids, I got up on stage in front of a group and made crap up and had a blast doing it. Even got a couple laughs with my elderly pole-dancer routine.

There were games and exercises, mostly to teach you how to listen and to stay present. We did skits, too. I was floored by how good everyone else was, and how nice they were to me. Almost everyone was young (read: younger than me), but there was one senior-citizen aged guy who killed me with his beautiful timing.

I came home all happy with my brain clicking and firing in a whole new way. It felt cool to leave Groundhog Day behind for a couple hours.

Check Linkateria for some new links.

22 January 2007

Blog for Choice

Today's the anniversary of Roe V. Wade and we are all supposed to Blog for Choice. Yay. What do you think a raving feminist liberal like me is going to say?

Maybe not what you think.

I hate the abortion controversy. I am done with abortion. I know, it is our precious right, the thing that Must Not Be Taken Away, the thing that we must all fight for no matter what.

My cynical take on it is this: both sides need abortion. Feminism needs abortion as a rallying cry because it is quick and easy to get people riled up about. One simple issue - yes or no.

And the Right needs abortion, LOVES abortion, because it keeps strong women's energy focused on this one tiny issue and away from the important everyday stuff that would affect women in a bigger way - equal pay, health care, child care, the disappearance of the middle class.

Nobody is going to outlaw abortion. They aren't even going to restrict it very much. They're just going to keep talking about doing it. It will be like the Shiny Object the magician waves in front of us to keep our attention while he digs playing cards out of his sleeve.

Presto chango, girlies. Over here! Look at abortion! Meanwhile I will be cutting education funding, sending your job to India and taxing healthcare benefits! Ta-da!

21 January 2007

Adventures In Dogwalking Part 653

I got Goldie on July 1, 2002. Since then, we have walked an average of 2 miles per day. 2 miles times 365 times 4.5 years mas o menos equals a lot of dogwalking.

We have had a fair number of really crazy adventures, most before the time I started blogging, so there is no record of all the fun. Like the time she stepped on a rattlesnake and got bitten on the back foot.

Or the time she punched a hole in her side on a fence wire and ended up with an 11 inch incision closed with big metal staples. The time she got tangled with another dog's leash out on a mountain and tripped the other dog's owner, making him fall hard and sprain his ankle two miles from the trailhead.

Or the infamous time time she made me pee my pants.

Some dogs walk along sedately on a leash, heeling and obeying in a way that would make the much-vaunted Cesar Millan proud. (Every weekday, my parents give me a recap of the wonders wrought on that day's "Dog Whisperer" episode. I could live quite happily without ever hearing Cesar's name again).

Goldie is not one of those nice-walking dogs. I am a bad dog mom, an indulgent mom, and I figure that the walk is Goldie's time to do what SHE wants to do, to act like a dog and to sniff and dig and hunt.

Hunting is her favorite activity. Anything that moves is huntable. Squirrels, bunnies, rats, mice, moles, voles, lizards - anything but toads. Toads taste bad.

She is a pretty ineffective hunter. Perhaps 1 out of 100 pounces or holes dug yields up actual prey. That does not lessen her enthusiasm. She is like a Vegas slot machine player. She knows she will get a hit sooner or later.

Today we had been out walking for about 45 minutes on the trail by the river when she pounced once again. After some scrabbling around, she flushed a rat out of a pile of leaves. As so often happens, it scampered away behind her without her seeing it. Duh, Goldie.

I was standing there laughing at the rat's safe escape when I heard squeaking. Goldie had found another rat and had caught the rat.

Unfortunately, the rat had also caught her. I looked down and the rat was hanging off Goldie's face, screaming for its little rat life. My dog had a living rat with its fangs sunk in her face.

So I did the only thing I could as a sane and reasonable dog owner. I screamed too. The two guys on bikes who had ridden by about 20 seconds earlier and had said "hi" didn't even turn around, thus restoring my faith in humanity once again. Single woman, out on a trail, screaming. No need to look. Thanks, boys.

Goldie finally managed to flip the foul little beast around and crunch its neck to end its life. She trotted off, happily, her job complete. Once something quits moving, it is of zero interest to her. Next!

She had a fair bit of blood running from her tongue where Mr. Rat had made his last stand. It stopped within a couple minutes later and we walked back to the car with Goldie hunting all the way.

They say dogs start to resemble their owners. I can only hope that my dog will become a peace-loving vegetarian. Because I sure as hell don't want it to go the other way and someday find a rat hanging from my face.

There are new links over at Linkateria
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