Vestal Vespa

Random word generator # 5

2010-06-17T21:48:00.002-06:00

Today's word is "ritual"

There are times I miss the lonely old routine. Coffee in the morning- by myself. TV in the evening- by myself. Making random decisions to just take myself out to a movie or for a piece of pie or breakfast.

We become so attached to the rituals of being alone. Sometimes to the point where it's almost painful to imagine sharing those rituals with someone else. Making coffee for two, for example. Taking another person along for pie, or rearranging your timeworn cleaning schedule for a night in. It edges on the comfort zones, challenges your self-security.

I'm not sure why I've been giving so much thought to what it was like to be alone as of late. I guess because it's highly likely I'll never live alone again. Perhaps it's because I'm astounded at how comfortable I've become with someone else's presence in my rituals, my existence. Even more astonishing, I've allowed my own life not just to join with someone else's but to mesh with it. It's not just my own routine and his... It's ours.

This has its value. Maybe even more value than most things in the world. But I'll always cherish the kind of independence, ritual, and calm that my old lonely rituals once gave me.

An opportunity does not equal a right

2010-06-10T09:10:00.002-06:00

I was having a quasi-argumentative discussion with Dale last night about the whole Ben Roethlisberger/rape thing after seeing a bit about it on ESPN. I wasn't doing very well making my point, due to a long-assed day at work and a hot car ride home. But I finally figured out what I was trying to say when I couldn't sleep last night. Here is the basic truth about any rape case where anyone claims a "gray area" of consent due to alcohol or fame:

JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE HAS THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO SOMETHING WRONG, THEY DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO THAT THING.

Sure, it's not smart to leave your keys in the ignition of your car when you park it somewhere. But that does not give someone the *right* to steal your car. It's not smart to get liquored up and follow Ben Roethlisberger around like a rock groupie. But that does not give him the *right* to have non-consensual sex with you.

Sad thing about that metaphor is that the person who stole your car would have a much better chance of going to jail for taking advantage of that opportunity than Ben Roethlisberger ever will for assuming he has rightful sexual access to any female he comes across.

I guess there's just so much that bothers me about this situation. I've said before that I will reluctantly agree that women will lie about rape to get money or notoriety. It happens, some women are crazy. But the more I learn about this situation, it's an all-too-familiar combination of conditions that will always end in victim-blame in our culture. She was drunk. She was following a famous person around. She was asking for it.

But the point I'm trying to make is that while people will argue whether or not Ben Roethlisberger was a rapist for taking advantage of this series of events, we can't argue that he had a choice of whether or not to act in an honorable way. He had the opportunity to do something morally sketchy, and he decided to do so. But that doesn't mean he had the right to.

Illegal immigration: Too big to fail.

2010-05-01T14:12:00.002-06:00

My problems with the Arizona anti-immigration law are informed by my lifelong experience within the ever-changing political landscape of the American Southwest. I grew up with Latinos, and I remember how interesting and exotic it seemed to have friends who were born in Mexico. The idea that people didn't have a right to seek a better life in the States didn't really enter my head until one day when a 7th grade Algebra teacher decided to shift gears in class and tell us about how people came to America to have "anchor babies" and live off of welfare in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

This didn't jibe with my experience of Latinos, the parents of my friends and classmates, who even in my youthful purview were obviously working physically harder than my own mother and father.

Later, in a Spanish class, I had the rare opportunity to see a film called "El Norte." Last time I looked, I couldn't find this film on Netflix, which is a shame. But the film is a graphic depiction of what it actually takes to cross the border, and the challenges these people face once they find themselves in the land they once imagined to be paradise.

So like pretty much everyone in the United States, I am aware that illegal immigration is a problem. But not for the reasons that built the Arizona bill. Our economy cannot function without illegal workers. THAT is the problem. Our economy necessitates cheap labor, and THAT is what ensures a constant stream of immigrants into the Southwest. It's what keeps stories of women being slaughtered mysteriously in the desert in the news. The problem is that we have come to need illegal immigrants and we ignore the fact that they pay the coyotes thousands of dollars they don't really have, to cross a border that traverses dangerous deserts, to face a future rife with constant discrimination and haunted by the possibility of deportation.

Crossing the border is not easy, cheap or safe. Not from Mexico, and certainly not from China or Russia or anywhere else. But people keep doing it. They wouldn't do it if there wasn't something here for them, employers willing to bend the rules, and for the less scrupulous among our Southern neighbors, a market for their drugs and guns. The illegal immigration problem would not exist if it weren't for the implicit needs of those of us on the Northern side of the line.

The job debate is also pointless. If an American wanted the job that was snapped up by an illegal immigrant, it's not just because the illegal immigrant was there to take it, but because an employer was willing to risk INS violations and tax issues to hire someone for much, much less than the American would accept. As a result, our grapes are cheap, our dishes get washed, our gardens get trimmed, our hotel rooms get cleaned, our brakes get replaced. Quietly. Cheaply.

My point is, the Arizona rule does nothing to stop any of the crime, any of the border crossing, any of the employment opportunities for illegal immigrants. It does nothing to keep illegal immigrants on their "own" side of the border (the border we painted across this little plot of stolen land we've decided is ours, I might add). It will do nothing more than undermine the economy of Arizona, renew the immigration debate (not that it ever does any good to do so), and anger those of us who don't think a nation built on multiculturalism has any business criminalizing skin color.

Perhaps it's time to remember how almost all of us come from stock that existed on the receiving end of the same hatred and frustration that caused the Arizona law come into being. Perhaps it's time for everyone to realize that such hatred has never gone away, only shifted to different cultures and skin colors hoping to realize the American dream. It's time to remember what it was like for the Italians, the Irish, the Chinese, not too long ago, and realize that the immigrant will never stop being a part of the American economy, culture or reality. As long as Americans live the life everyone else wants, immigrants will want to be Americans.

turning the corner

2010-04-24T12:45:00.002-06:00

By way of update...

I am now employed at two places, ye olde scooter shop, and a business that does really cool things with sustainability for what they call "environmentally challenged" businesses like oil, gas and manufacturing. It's actually something I could, and would, see as a career. We shall see. Right now I spend most of my days there working on the design and layout of brochures and other customer deliverables. It's fun and pays really well, and I like working for a company whose values are aligned so closely with mine.

My fiance broke his foot in late January, and as he works entirely on his feet, was out of commission for almost a month. Between a month of no work and several overpriced doctor's appointments (he's not on my insurance yet), it's put a huge financial burden on both of us. While the doctors' bills themselves total around $1,000 the wages he lost amount to much more than that, and it's been an uphill battle getting our finances sorted. Hopefully the wedding plans are still on track. But we're not sure. The notion of spending thousands of dollars on a single day, no matter how momentous and beautiful, is a point of stress for us both. This was our experience with pre-Obama healthcare in America. Here's hoping it gets better soon.

But we've got each other, I'm finally gainfully employed and enjoying my work (won't take that for granted again any time soon) and we've got a city full of friends and beautiful spring weather. I keep telling him it's going to get better, and I know it's true. It's hard to see how sometimes but it has to be okay someday soon. It always is.

Random Word Generator #4

2010-04-21T20:49:00.002-06:00

Today's word is "Armpit"

L.A. is an easy city to hate. Lots of people do it. I think part of it is that there is so much obviously, glaringly beautiful about L.A., and so much that is so sickeningly, overwhelmingly awful as well. All in the same huge package. Los Angeles represents everything we hate about being Americans while also demonstrating everything we hope for- prosperity, beauty, warmth, the sparkling sun glinting off endless waves.

But I miss it. No matter how many veterans come back and tell me that L.A. is the armpit of the world, a vast wasteland of superficial, horrifying excess, I will always remember L.A. as I saw it when I was very young. How the warmth of the sun seemed to hold me close and tenderly as I stood in the ocean at Leo Carillo. The way the colors of everything around me seemed intensified by heat and sunshine. The exotic, intriguing smells of every possible kind of food that wafted into the car windows as we drove through neighborhoods unlike anything back home in Albuquerque, Minnesota, Colorado.

I saw L.A. at its worst once, as columns of smoke rose from Watts during a poorly planned family vacation in 1992. We made the most of it, we ventured into the city, we sunned on beaches and tried hard to put as much space in our minds between Malibu and the places on the news... Koreatown... South Normandie... Vernon and Western.

There were plenty of moments when it wasn't hard. Same city, different worlds.

When I turned 18 I wanted nothing more than to somehow find myself living an adult kind of life in Los Angeles. I would look for jobs there, houses, fantasizing about what it would be like to leave my small town life for The California Dream. I long ago realized the competition, the need to be blond and botoxed, the expense was not in alignment with what I really needed and wanted. But still, especially on days like today, my mind goes back to the coast. To swimming pools and tucked-away corners of strip malls where so many treasures can be found. To the smell of exhaust and salty air. And I miss it, for everything good and bad it can be.

Random Word Generator #3

2010-03-10T22:08:00.002-07:00

Today's word is "Thoroughfare"

For a year, I fell asleep every night to the ocean-like ebb and flow of 18-wheelers careening down the I-80 thoroughfare just outside the singlepane window of my Cedar Rapids dormitory.

The room was always cold (unless it was hot), and in the winter months frost would form on this great glass portal overlooking the concrete ribbons of the interstate.

I am one of a lucky handful in this world who have experienced the magic of a Grant Wood springtime, in its glorious emergence from the dismal Iowa winter. The ground turned over, soil, black as coffee grounds opened fragrantly into the waiting crystalline air. The cacophony of birds, as exhilarated by weather warm enough to sing in as we were. And green... green from the tips of every branch to the mossy cracks in the sidewalks.

Iowa is a place for writers. Writers grow in Iowa, as much as corn and soy and wheat grows in Iowa. There is much to write about there- from the lined faces of blue-collar workers nursing a pint at any lifer bar (many of which just a stones-throw from our venerable institution of learning) to the grumbling stone-gray thunderstorms that gather on the vast horizons on spring afternoons. Like those who came before us (Vonnegut. Boyle. Wood. Cone.) we found beauty in the cold, warmth in the people, a functional yet otherworldly allure in its green, fresh growing things.

I haven't been back in far too long. Right about now it's the ragged end of winter there. The tension is palpable. There may be a melting, but it's not over yet. It will still be cold, it will still be gray, for several weeks before sprouts appear. Before buds burst from the branches. Before a strange haze appears over the soy fields. I can feel it like I'm there... an ache for the warmth of springtime.

Its coming, though. And that's what keeps us going.

Random Word Generator #2

2010-02-22T21:45:00.003-07:00

Today's word is "Gift"

When I was six years old they started me in "gifted" programs. I had to leave my classes at a time dictated by my Pillsbury Doughboy watch (an Easter gift) and go to a different class. In this class, they spoke differently to us. They didn't slow down the reading so that... each... word... was... a... full... second... apart. They listened to our questions, they *really* listened, and they would answer us like a grownup would answer another grownup's question.

Apparently, my admission to at least one of these programs was based on a screening process in which I was supposed to read a list of words on the program coordinator's desk. Instead of the list, I read her telephone messages. Instead of "Aquarium, Extreme, Complement," I read, "Mr. Hudson called in regards to your Wednesday chiropractic appointment. Please call back to confirm by the end of the business day."

And this meant I was gifted.

I guess this status has created more problems in my life than it has created solutions. As a label, "gifted" is troublesome. As a reality, it's even more so. My current and most salient struggle is that I feel a deep-seated responsibility to this label. I can't get out from under the notion that this label has destined me for something more. And I am somehow letting them all down- the woman whose phone message I read, the teacher who let me play the film strips in that rarified world of the "gifted" class, every teacher who ever told me I didn't "apply myself," my proud parents who beamed when the news came that I had good enough SATs to be automatically enrolled in all state schools (at the tender age of 11).

I wish I could tell them all that somehow, someday, I'll make them proud. That someday it will have meant something that I was reading billboards before age 2, that I took National Geographic magazine to bed when I was 7. That they were right- I had boundless potential, and here... look here at what I'm doing now!

It's not a great time to be gifted, I don't think. But it has to get better.

Pick a noun, any noun

2010-02-18T20:49:00.003-07:00

http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx

Great domain name. And a new tool for me to attempt writing something every day.

Today's word: Match

There are couples that match like earrings. Every detail the same, and they adorn in the same way, symmetrically. We are not like such couples. More like shoes in a box- a left and a right. More like two charged particles.

I was trying to console my mom today, because we are both rather unhappy at the moment. I was trying to give her advice that I should take, an odd exercise in and of itself, but strangely cathartic nonetheless. I was trying to tell her a new philosophy of mine- that in my life, happiness has come from the unlikeliest of places and most often when I least expected it. So, I argued, it is not productive to try and imagine what would make you perfectly happy. It is better, I argued, to focus on the small, happy things we see in daily life and just know that every once in a while, happiness clocks you out of nowhere, from nothing.

Such was the case with us. Not a perfect match, but the necessary one. Certainly not the expected match. But I suppose little can be done about that. Denying happiness- no matter how imperfect, no matter how unusual or incongruous, is a fool's game.

I got my wedding shoes today. One- the left- seems to be almost a half size larger than the other. Perhaps it's just me. Or perhaps it's just- no pun intended- fitting that one should be just a little different than the other. Just enough to make it interesting.

I don't know why but I think a lot about my past and what I used to imagine my match would look like. He looks like Rivers Cuomo from Weezer. He brings me daisies and likes to eat Sushi with me. He couldn't be more different than the match I've chosen Well, except for the glasses. And the cute smile.

But like a small college in Iowa, like a grease-smeared job in a scooter shop, like the kitten I thought I should have taken back to the shelter, it's all turned out for the best. Bringing me happiness despite the fact that we don't match.

I used to think that yellow didn't match with gray. But then I saw the sun come out from the clouds.

It's a living. Sort of.

2010-02-15T10:00:00.002-07:00

So I have a bad job. Everyone I know knows this. But there is one sentiment I keep running into, and while I definitely understand where it is coming from, I can't help but bristle when it comes up.

"At least you HAVE a job."

Yes, I know, I'm blessed to be working right now and I'm not going to argue that. Yes, I'm making a living, and no, it's not in a sweatshop or on East Colfax. I get it. But working right now is no picnic, either. When fewer people are actually employed, it becomes an employer's market. And in an employer's market, the "lucky" ones who remain employed still have a few significant causes for complaint.

As anyone currently working will tell you, everyone who *has* a job right now is actually doing their own job plus the job of four or five other people who have been laid off or, in a better economy, would be hired to help out. "Doing more with less" is the key philosophy in today's workplace, and it's hard for those of us left behind.

And it's not just taking care of, say, the jobs once done by your assistant or the middle manager above you. It's doing things like taking out the trash, cleaning bathrooms, and otherwise making up for the services your boss either can't or refuses to pay for. Not like I'm above cleaning a bathroom or taking out my trash, but the time it takes to do so is time I could be spending doing the job I was ostensibly hired to do. Those of us who are "lucky enough" to be employed are overworked, underpaid, and often times, our hours have been scaled back so we're not just trying to make up for missing bodies, we're making up for missing hours as well.

While all of us are working with less time and for lower pay than we're used to, we're also enduring worse conditions and a more hostile workplace. Employers are in a position right now where they're fully aware that they have a more or less captive staff. Workplace lawsuits are expensive and difficult to execute, and if you quit, it can be years before such a suit will result in a favorable ruling. If you leave due to what you claim is a hostile work environment, it must be proven before you can receive unemployment benefits. So what are you going to do? Endure abuse or endure poverty? Your choice.

So yes. I'm thankful I can put food on the table. I'm glad I'm working and I'm glad things seem to be getting better. It could be a lot worse, and I do realize this. I just think that it's important to note that when only a few of us are left to do the work, it's not always comforting to hear that we should be feeling lucky.

School of Hard Knocks...

2010-01-27T08:48:00.003-07:00

I was talking at length with my Dad the other day about our assessments of Obama's first year. In a fun little role reversal that we've shared for some time, my Dad is a little more of a liberal and lot less of a cynic than I am, and he brought up Bob Woodward's scathing defense of Obama's work so far.

I came away from our conversation with a little different perspective. It's apparent that I've become used to a president who simply never learned from mistakes... whose responses to any cause and effect were essentially the same- a smirk, a defensive quip, hiring a friend to do a professional's job. Obama, for all his biting-off-more-than-he-could-chew in the crucial first year, has three years to go. And I'm confident that he has learned several things the hard way in the past 12 months.

What would I like to see? Well, I've decided that I've waited this long for a sensible health care plan, how about that goes on the back burner while we try to figure out how to re-employ the one out of ten people in this country who are atoning for the sins of a hideously unregulated market during the Bush years? I'd be OK with health becoming a year 3, maybe even 4 priority. So long as my friends are employed and my scooter shop survives.

I'd like to see energy and the environment (issues that, if you scratch the surface, are actually tied to long-term health effects) be more of a focus. Because I know that if we're smart about the environment, we'll create viable jobs.

I'm fairly confident that the health-care bill in its current incarnation is pretty awful. Howard Dean has said so, among others. I want to see it get better. I want to see it with a real, appropriate deadline for release. I want it make health more affordable by reforming the health care industry rather than simply putting taxpayer dollars into a wasteful, inflated business that long ago stopped caring about making people healthy.

So my faith in change is not gone yet. I think Obama will take several solid deliverables away from this first year- both positive and negative. And I'm really interested in hearing what his plans are moving forward.

Tonight, I'll be listening.

My best albums of the 00s

2010-01-25T10:23:00.002-07:00

It's amazing for me to think of how much growing up I did in the aughts- I started 2000 as a painfully shy 18 year old, and ended 2009 as a tattooed and pierced 28 year old with a vintage engagement ring on one finger. Frankly, it was a long decade, and one in which I feel I truly came into my own as far as musical tastes are concerned. So here's a roundup of the soundtrack to my post-adolescence... for your consideration: the top 10 for *MY* aughts.

10. Moby, Play (1999)

OK, I know this is cheating, since this is technically a 90s release. But it didn't really come into my life until 2000, when it seemed you couldn't turn the TV on without hearing a part of this album on some commercial. "Play" was inescapable. And it was a techno album that could actually make you feel something. There was soul to it, rock and roll, too. My theory on the DJs of the 90s and 00s is that each of them secretly wanted to be a black musician: Fatboy Slim wanted to be James Brown or George Clinton, Dangermouse wanted to be Jay-Z, and Moby, well, Moby just wanted to be a little old, black Blues Man, forgotten through the years, rediscovered by some music nerd via a long-lost 45 at a garage sale.

9. Neko Case, Blacklisted (2002)

This was the first Neko Case album I ever heard, and it pretty much changed my attitude toward music, especially country music, and toward female artists in general. At the time of this release, Tori Amos had kinda gone off the deep end (Strange Little Girls will probably go down in history as one of rock's better WTF moments) and all my other favorite 90s females had either gone eerily quiet or had sold out in the weirdest ways (Liz Phair, Luscious Jackson, Sarah MacLachlan). Neko came to me at a point where I'd mostly given up on female artists in Rock, and chalked it up to the rise of Pop Tarts and the wretched dick-swingery of Rap-Rock crossovers. But in came Neko- voice like a typhoon and guitar like a David Lynch Western- and I was never the same. For me, listening to this album is like wrapping up in a vintage Mexican blanket- warm, a little frayed, a reminder of the spirit of the West.

8. Green Day, American Idiot (2004)

You know what? I don't have to be ashamed of loving Green Day anymore. Of having a huge crush on Billy Jo Armstrong. Of loving "Dookie" even though I never bought it, out of fear of my Punker-Than-Thou friends finding out. By 2004 Green Day had truly come into their own with this album, and I really believe that. This is such a great satire on what America looked like at this point, such a stinging treatise and such a well-tailored, punk-informed point of view. I am perfectly comfortable with loving this album.

7. Explosions in the Sky, The Earth Is Not A Cold Dead Place (2003)

This is one of those cases where someone I'd really rather forget about had the audacity to introduce me to an album, to a band, I will never be able to forget. This is easily one of my favorite albums of all time, much less the 00s, and it is the soundtrack to some of the most emotionally intense experiences of my life. For me, this album is the soundtrack to love gone wrong, to pain like I've never known, but also to renewed faith and healing. EITS introduced me to a beautiful new realm of Post-Rock, and now I've found that my life is so much better for it. This is not just music... it's the ever-appropriate score to my young life.

6. Everything Absent or Distorted, The Great Collapse (2009)

The crowning achievement to one band's shining Denver career, "The Great Collapse" is pretty much my favorite local album from my favorite local band. I really think that even if I didn't have the history that I'm lucky to have with the members of this band, I'd still love this album. There is just such an aching amount of love to this album, such a beautiful and bittersweet tone to it. It sounds like it actually kind of hurt to make this kind of music, but they did it anyway. And there's no way to come away from a listen of "The Great Collapse" without feeling so grateful that they put themselves through that to make something so important.

5. Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs (2005)

I learned of Andrew Bird by accident- I filled in for another reporter to review the Ani DiFranco show for which he opened at Red Rocks. That show review later scored me a SPJ award, and a renewed excitement in folky rock. The genius of this album, its flawless live-looping and quirky, chamber-rock stylings, are what I now associate with a lot of Denver music. It's as if Rufus Wainwright were a band geek. Just so lovely, so intricate. And of course... there will be snacks.

4. Arcade Fire, Funeral (2004)

I bought Arcade Fire because I liked the name. It was that random a choice. And, unlike most choices made with that little precognition, it turned out to be one of the more significant musical choices of my life. It took me a while to really like "Funeral," it was so unlike what I'd grown accustomed to. But I remember listening to it one time when driving, and it was so breathtakingly unusual that I was instantly a fan. When I finally got the opportunity to see the band live, it was everything I'd hoped for. The album title meant a great deal to me- I'd gone through a rash of funerals as a kid and my parents had always encouraged me to think of a funeral as a reflection of life rather than a recognition of death. And that is how "Funeral" affected me- it made me think deeply about life in general, and the kind of life I want people to reflect on once I'm gone.

3. Sigur Ros, () (2002)

I wept openly during the entire Sigur Ros show at Red Rocks in 2008. Their music holds so much gravity and so many associations for me that seeing it being made was like seeing my life flash before my eyes. There is simply nothing like Sigur Ros: instruments made from driftwood, guitars played with violin bows, made-up languages, vocals more akin to a woodwind instrument than a human voice. This is the music my heart would make if it could. And "()" remains unparalleled in its strange, stark, Icelandic beauty.

2. Mastodon, Leviathan (2004)

I was never much of a hard-rock person... Punk appealed to my ADD sensibilities more than the growly notes of death metal. But Mastodon is different from most of the unintelligible stuff I associated with late-night programming on KBPI. It is operatic in its grandiosity. And "Leviathan" was about Moby Dick, which got this English Major interested. This entire album gets better the more you listen- it is not simply shouting mixed with a mess of jackhammer drums and screaming guitars. There's an order, a plan to it. It's really quite beautiful for all its hard edges; like a well-engineered machine. And if you're an uber-music-nerd like me, and you listen closely enough, you'll hear echoes of Genesis, Yes and Rush coming through. Think of it as Prog metal.

1. The Postal Service, Give Up (2003)

Now that every pop band wants to be The Postal Service, it is hard to remember what it was like to listen to "Give Up" when it first came out. But for me it was the blend of the kinds of electronic music I loved, warmed up by human lyrics and instrumentation (kinda like what Moby did a few years earlier). There is such a simple sadness to this album. In my mind, it tells the story of one's own perceptions of love clashing against the realities of what really happens. Love was supposed to be easy, and it's not. Love was supposed to be enough, and it's not. There are distances to cross and issues that come into play, and sometimes love doesn't survive. But the upbeat sound of the songs imbue the album with this sense of hope- like it's not over yet. Like love still survives.

Honorable Mentions (i.e., albums that kicked ass but weren't so closely associated with the highlights reel of my 20s...):

The Shins, Oh Inverted World
Ryan Adams, Heartbreaker
Band of Horses, Everything All the Time
Elliot Smith, Figure Eight
Bjork, Vespertine
Wolf Parade, Apologies to the Queen Mary
M.I.A., Kala
TV On The Radio, Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes
Beck, Guero
The Flaming Lips, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots
Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Fever to Tell
Sufjan Stevens, Illinoise
Radiohead, Kid A

By way of re-introduction

2009-12-31T08:32:00.003-07:00

New Year's eve seems like a good time to come back. Also, I'm currently employed in a job with minimal supervision and significant downtime, a job that works in a way conducive to reflection and the occasional blogging urge.

I very nearly forgot that this was the end of a decade... most decades seem to have a certain feeling of completion, a feeling that common themes defined the last 10 years well enough to speculate upon at their close. But I think that this decade will be characterized for its distinct lack of cohesion. There are obvious things... the inexorable march of technology, the political significance of a nation so stung by eight years of conservative overreaching that they elected a man that mere months earlier had been deemed unelectable. But there is so little to draw together from these past ten years. There is not that nice, tangible "decade" feeling to point to and say, this, this is what we got out of the "oughts."

The NPR stories have gotten me thinking about who I was at the opening of this past decade, and the very different person I am now. To wit:

On Dec. 31, 1999, I rang in the new year with high school friends in an empty house in the Denver suburbs. I was 18 years old. I was attending the University of Colorado at Boulder (I was majoring in Communication, also known as the "I have to pick a major? major") and was miserable among the alien culture of coke, bulimia and apathy that characterized the late-90s college experience.

Jesus, was I ever really 18? Did that really happen? And if it did, was it really 10 years ago? I'm pretty sure I still have clothes from that year (Not that anything worth talking about happened in 2000s fashion. Boring.)

And here I am. 10 years later, I'm 28, working as an office manager for a local importer/manufacturer in a wretched exurb of Denver (at this moment I'm listening to Lou Reed on my iPod in an attempt to drown out my coworker's Christian radio). I'm engaged (good). I write for free when I can, and have more or less given up on ever writing for pay again (not good). I'm determined by the end of the next decade- hopefully sooner- to be happier with what I do for money. Happier with a lot of things, actually. Because right now I'm thinking about how quickly ten years can go by... and how empty it can feel when an entire decade draws to a close before you even know it.

shut up, fascist

2009-04-21T08:38:00.003-06:00

Once upon a time, some friends and I decided it was really funny to teach little kids to say "Shut up, fascist!" when upset, rather than the typical little-kid epithets like "butthead" or "poopface." So I think it really amusing that "fascist" is now the schoolyard taunt of choice for Republican buttheads like Saul Anuzis.

The actual, historical horrors of real fascism notwithstanding, it speaks to the abysmal lack of direction and message of the Republican Party that they've resorted to the kind of semi-educated name-calling typically reserved for sullen teenagers. Did Obama revoke their facebook privileges or something? But here's the kicker. Anuzis doesn't even know or care what the difference is between the old standby of calling a liberal a "socialist" and his new, hip, punk rock "fascist" label:

“We’ve so overused the word ‘socialism’ that it no longer has the negative connotation it had 20 years ago, or even 10 years ago,” Mr. Anuzis said. “Fascism — everybody still thinks that’s a bad thing.”

Well... yes, because there are several nations that have adopted some form of socialism that actually, well, works for them. Socialism, in and of itself, is not a "bad thing" with the "negative connotation" it had 20 years ago, because in those 20 years, socialism has become a base from which to build a viable government in many parts of the world. Fascism is still thought of as a bad thing, because (as anyone with wikipedia access would know), nearly every example of it in action has resulted in the slaughter of thousands, forced labor, and government-sanctioned violence. Italy, Spain, Germany... the list goes on. Fascism is the worst kind of human behavior, brought to a vast scale by the worst kinds of human fears.

And at the risk of oversimplifying, it would seem that accusations of fascism would be more appropriately directed toward an administration of obsessive nationalism, oppressive religious leanings, sexism, racism, secrecy, state-sanctioned torture, corporatism, militarism, isolationism, surveillance and cronyism. I'm sure you can think of a recent one.

who is muammar gaddafi?

2009-02-03T21:36:00.004-07:00

I'm really intrigued by Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi. As a child, I remember seeing him on television, a dynamic figure, in expensive glasses and lots of bling. His life seems to be a map of post-WWII America's troubled and tangled relationship with the Middle East. He has been both condemned as a terrorist and praised as a humanitarian, depending on the current U.S. administration and the price of petrol. And in his newest incarnation, a champion of African unity and vocal opponent of Al-Qaeda, his political career has taken a turn Reagan-era politicos never saw coming.

While I maintain that Gaddafi is an odd choice, it would seem that Africa is merely seeking someone with experience in leadership... and while Libya may not seem the best source for a unifying figure, Gaddafi does have the distinction of holding together an African country for 40 years, and as the fourth-longest serving head of state (fun trivia: The top three are King Bhumibol of Thailand, Queen Elizabeth and Fidel Castro).

On the worlds' most troubled continent, perhaps Gaddafi is the closest thing to a constant.

redemption

2009-01-20T10:29:00.003-07:00

A bright sunshine streaks the faces of the seven million people congregated in the Capitol. It is a beautiful day. In every sense of the word.

January is not supposed to be beautiful. Beauty, it seems, is an elusive thing in a cold winter, a winter made all the colder by struggle and fear, anxiety and worry. But today is a beautiful day, in spite of so much. Because today, there is hope in the eyes of all those seven million people. There is hope in the face of the man we've chosen to place in front of us. Hope is what brings beauty in even the darkest moments. Hope is what made my ancestors survive January in sod houses in Iowa in 1890. Hope is what brought my grandmother through dust bowls and starvation. Hope is what consoled my great-great grandparents when they left everything they knew in a small Norwegian fishing village to till an unknown land far from their home.

And hope is what brings my heart to my throat now, when I see the tide of people in Washington. There is much to survive still. But hope will get us there.

nocturne

2009-01-11T02:53:00.002-07:00

It's pretty crazy how I can get on a roll when I want to, when I have a task at hand that needs completion (or at least steady progress). So this is why I'm up at three in the morning burning a mix CD for my fiancee and reading my friends' music blog (it's here, and yes, you should read it too).

The project I'm working on right now is rekindling my love for music.

I have two music stories due to The Onion by the end of the month and I was feeling pretty uninspired about both of them so I decided I needed to spend some time with the music I have, remember why I do this, of all journalistic endeavors.

It's helping. Since my music is virtually 100 percent digital at this point, it helped greatly simply to haul the CD box out from under my bed, go through the stacks, carefully choose which ones to upload and fondly remember where I was when I bought each one. Or even better, where I was when someone gave it to me (Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness was in my Easter basket when I was 15, next to marshmallow Peeps and a Reese's peanut butter bunny). Touching music, the physical manifestation of it, reminds me of the actual work it takes to create it.

The stories are still rough. I still have interviews to schedule, outlines to create, research to do. But at least right now I can remember why I do it.

Do newspapers need a bailout?

2008-11-26T10:22:00.002-07:00

As a former newspaper employee (and as someone who has often tried to get back in the business, to no avail) I have seriously mixed feelings about what has come to be called the "death" of newspapers. On one hand, I view it much like I view the supposed death of the big auto makers: some newspapers got fat, lazy and pretentious and failed to meet the needs of their consumers and advertisers. Some newspaper owners became wealthy and complacent, and some reporters shamed the industry with the use of fabrication, plagiarism and heresay. There are times when I view the whole lot of it and wonder if perhaps it is time for newspapers to die, only to be reborn in some other form.

But there is a seriously sentimental part of me that wants to see the news live on in all its smudgy, stiffly-formatted glory. A part of me that remembers what it's like to literally get a copy "hot" off the presses. A part of me that got a little wistful upon seeing the rotating globe above the Seattle P-I building last week. And the part of me that has moved her ponderous collection of Times-Calls and Onions (I call it a portfolio) from apartment to apartment for the past five years. I have a similar emotional tie to the automakers- as a third generation auto dealer whose father was born in Pontiac, Mich., cars are as much a part of my blood as the press.

So in the end I guess news like this makes me hope against hope that this scare is just what the industry needs. A shot in the arm to realize that the game is not the same, that it's a change-or-die world these days and the power that both the car makers and the news makers had is no longer relevant in these times.

For all the people I still love in both industries, I hope that this will be the case.

blue colorado

2008-11-04T20:29:00.000-07:00

Finally.

This feels so, so good.

The new and improved

2008-10-25T14:28:00.004-06:00

I figured it was probably a good time to re-introduce myself...

It has been two years since my last post here. In those two years I have done the following:

-Had my heart broken
-Worked my way up from title clerk to, effectively, CFO of a multi-location scooter shop.
-Said goodbye to my parents, who now live a state away
-Fallen in love
-Dyed my hair black and lost 20 pounds
-Moved into a 1920s Cheesman Park apartment with my sister, recently returned from her Peace Corps assignment in Lesotho (pending, moving day is today and tomorrow)

There's more, of course. Suffice it to say there's a big difference between 25 and 27. But to be honest, it really does seem to be getting better all the time.

receding

2008-10-23T08:58:00.004-06:00

I was driving to our South store today, which is located in a typical small-town-turned-suburb area of Denver called Englewood. Englewood crops up on the Southern stretch of Broadway, a once-bustling thoroughfare. The street is typical two-lane urban highway, spotted with late-40s hotels and car dealerships. This is the street every city had in the 40s and 50s. Before interstates but in the heyday of the big automobile.

On my commute this morning I saw no fewer than four boarded-up or closing businesses that were recent enough casualties of the recession for me to be surprised to see them gone. And then I started paying attention.

I noticed a handful more, and then began to assess which businesses were doing well. The SMART dealership seems to be prospering. The Dollar Store was opening to a full parking lot. Starbucks had a line around the building for the drive-through.

I was listening to the radio and they said that Wal-Mart employees had noticed a sharp increase in baby formula sales around the first, last and middle of the month. This means that people are waiting for their paychecks to feed their children. America, it would seem, is living paycheck to paycheck.

I heard that canned goods sales are up, and that SPAM is seeing renewed popularity.

It seems that the saddest part of this is the story behind it all. We all did so well under Clinton- we had the things we needed, and we got used to it. Then America got greedy and wanted more. And even when people weren't doing as well, they didn't scale back. Everyone wanted the bigger house, the bigger SUV. America supersized it and was proud of it. And now there's this reckoning. America is slowly realizing we can't have our war and our SUVs, too.

I think we need to redefine what it means to live like an American.

putting lipstick on a pig

2008-10-22T17:56:00.000-06:00

$150,000 on hair, makeup and clothes?

Considering that's probably close to the balance most people were looking at on their foreclosed mortgages this year, I find that pretty, well... ugly.

silent all these years

2008-10-22T17:28:00.000-06:00

Thinking about coming back... we shall see.

The End.

2006-08-02T10:24:00.000-06:00

OK.

Everyone's seen this coming.

This blog jumped the shark some time ago, sadly. I think it happened sometime when I left the newspaper and the energy it gave me. And when I became a real citizen of a real city, instead of a frustrated young woman in a small town. So, while I love Vestal Vespa, I love what this blog has brought me, I love the people I've met through it and the conversations I've had as a result of it, it's time to hang it up.

Going out like Mary Tyler Moore and Jeff Mangum. On top of the game.

I've been doing this since I was 22 years old. And sure, back then, I thought I had something important to say that the whole world had to hear. There are times I still feel that, but there are many more times that I just know that my voice is only a small one in a swelling sea of voices . . . and that there are far better shouters, far better arguers, far, far better bloggers than I. It's time to leave it to them, the ones who don't yet have to sit and muster up the passion to write every day. For them, it's just there. It's gonna change the world.

As for me, I'm turning 25 next week. My world is changing. My life is becoming that of a real adult, with problems to solve, hearts to mend, adventures to be had. I'm just no longer as aware as I once was about the tragedies of human existence on this planet. As selfish as it sounds, my life right now is my main focus. But then, perhaps it was always a little delusional to think that anything said here was any more powerful than pissing on a wildfire. I still stand by everything I've said here. I'm still, in my own little way, proud of this and what it's meant to me and to my little audience. But it's time to let it go . . . time to move on.

Love you all . . .

Bye.

(and if you care to know about my continuing personal, not political adventures, feel free to click here.)

Employment, at last

2006-07-20T18:59:00.000-06:00

Looks like I start Monday at a job arranged ala temp agency. It's no dream job, but it will certainly do for now, and has a 9 to 4 shift, which allows for freelance time in the evenings.

But I'm a little sad, actually, about the end of my summer vacation. Late nights at the bar will have to be less late, no more waking up at 9 a.m. and throwing on clothes off of the floor before heading off to the Internet cafe. But this is good. This is important. Having my own money is vastly more important to me than the lazy existence that is unemployment(and frankly, the ennui was getting to me).

The Onion story is almost done- just some polishing and more cutting (yeah, it's meant lots and lots of cutting. I hope it still makes some modicum of sense and still conveys the awesome spirit of the whole interview). It will come out Aug. 10, like I said, the Thursday before my 25th.

I've been slowly easing myself back into the news/politics world, after a much-needed break. Saw a kid on the CBS evening news today parroting her mother: God Bless America. God Bless Lebanon. It made me feel uneasy. It felt like it conveyed the way much of America likes to be: a child to a parent, just offstage, telling them how to feel and what to say. I hope the kid grows up to be properly critical of the whole ordeal she faced so long ago. I hope she grows to see the different facets of the conflict. I hope she grows.

Rundown

2006-07-19T17:34:00.000-06:00

Strange: Bearded man at the DMV with a gray parrot on his shoulder, yelling "I bet you like women too, you big slut!" as he stormed out.

Grueling: Distilling an 83-minute discussion with a rock band into an 800-word feature for The Onion.

Spontaneous: Taking a four-day road trip to California.

Surprising: Lunch with the Ex went better than expected.

Risky: Attending an outdoor wedding in Albuquerque during monsoon season.

Promising: Receiving a letter from the University of Oklahoma Library Science program.

Disappointing: Denver's job market

Humbling: Applying at a coffee shop/asking Dad for money

Infuriating: Finding out that you entitled to unemployment insurance only proportionately to the amount of time you worked at your last employer (The government is paying me a whopping $339 until I get my next job. And I've been paying into unemployment since the age of 15.)

Vindicating: Passing the written motorcycle test. Got my permit!

Disquieting: Senor Idiot's veto of the stem cell bill. Lovely.

Comforting: My sister's letters from Lesotho. She's doing well. And growing up. This is good.

off the radar

2006-07-10T09:24:00.000-06:00

Apologies, again for not being terribly present these past several weeks. I've been aggressively job hunting as well as pursuing my hobbies (freelancing, drinking, summertime romance, photography).

So bear with me. I'm thinking that a new, improved VV will be up and running as soon as I find that coveted day job.

Free to Lizz-ance

2006-06-29T10:29:00.000-06:00

Got my first assignment for the Onion AV Club yesterday.

Denver/Boulder readers can catch it in the Aug. 10 issue. My birthday present to me will be my first legitimate attempt at Rock Journalism.

Happy 25th to me, indeed.

Bajaj the night away

2006-06-28T18:27:00.000-06:00

Last night I got some Bajaj practice in- and it was so different than the motorcycles we'd been on for the class. If I'd had Uma (yeah, that's the name I'm going with. Uma.) at the class test, I'd have aced it. No problem. She's lighter, less touchy, and she's mine. There's a lot to be said for that.

I made a few figure eights around the handicapped parking signs at the local Elementary school, did a few hard stops, and even got up the guts to cruise around the old neighborhood. I did fine. I was confident, comfortable, and I looked good.

Can't wait to get her licensed. I'm gonna fly around Capitol Hill like a real European.

Bruises to the ego . . .

2006-06-25T18:33:00.000-06:00

Totally failed my motorcycle test today. Shame. I aced the written portion and actually did really well yesterday and during practice today, but ate it right when it counted.

Bummer.

I'm OK, not hurt at all, just embarassed. Looks like I'll have to do some more practice on the Bajaj before I'm street legal.

In other news, went to the Everything Absent or Distorted show last night. Beautiful, beautiful. The CD is out July 7, the party is Aug. 12 at the Hi-Dive. That is one day after my 25th B-day, so be there. For the music, for what will undoubtedly be a beautiful August evening, and for me, the birthday girl.

Maybe by then I'll have a licensed, insured scooter that I can actually ride without being a danger to myself and others.

My Dad

2006-06-20T15:56:00.000-06:00

This is my dad.

My dad taught me that being a liberal meant having humanity. He taught me that real rock stars never sell their songs to commercials. He taught me that love is the most important thing you'll ever feel.

My dad reads my blog. He reads the New York Times and watches BBC news. He wears cool bowling shirts and likes to spend his weekends grilling something, building something or fixing something.

My dad and I get along pretty much all of the time. He doesn't like that I will take a "day job" rather than a dream job but that's only because he wants what is best for me. He has made it very difficult for me to find men whose qualities stack up when compared to Dad. He did this on purpose.

My dad spoils me. He and I like to have dinners at Pete's on University and talk about life. I can talk to him about just about anything. So thanks, Dad. And a happy belated Father's day from the difficult older one.

possibly . . .

2006-06-20T15:51:00.000-06:00

I had a very promising interview this morning. We'll see.

Otherwise, life is really pretty good all around. I'm spending my severance check on cover charges, beer tabs and American Spirits and I'm spending my mornings at the coffeehouse applying for jobs. I spend my afternoons however I please and when evening rolls around, well, there's a new someone who seems to be willing to take me out if I want to go out.

So yeah. Things are OK. And I might have a job by the end of the week.

Mandatory Vacation

2006-06-16T17:54:00.000-06:00

You know, it's almost weird how *not* freaked out I am right now.

So far, unemployment has been kind of relaxing. I really went nuts yesterday and went out to the department of labor unemployment center (depressing) and to the temp agency (they make you take really silly tests). And other than that, I've been going out to Gabor's and sleeping in till like, 8 a.m. each morning. I've gotten so much done, actually.

I've got some bills due at the end of the month, but hey. The severance check is there for that. I haven't had to drive to LoDo in days, I haven't had to suffer downtown parking, I haven't had to deal with the chick at work who liked to *sing* parts of sentances.

I already have a very promising prospect out in Golden through the temp agency, so that's good. I'm really not all that worried. And if all else fails, I'm working on applications for grad school, so I can just run away and do that if I just can't find anything here.

But thanks to all of you who have sent along good wishes and are keeping their eyes out for work for me. It is much appreciated.

Interesting television programming tonight . . .

2006-06-14T17:05:00.000-06:00

My mom called me to alert me that The Deadly Mantis and George Carlin were going to be squaring off on Leno tonight. This should be interesting.

I hope she cries. I've seen her pout before, but tonight I wanna see the bitch cry. Homegirl deserves whatever's coming to her.

freedom's just another word for nothin' left to lose

2006-06-13T15:54:00.000-06:00

Lost my job today. Laid off. Just like that.

But you know what? I don't feel all that badly about it.

An opportunity for growth, I guess.

Doors closing, windows opening and all that.

So.

Monday, Monday . . .

2006-06-12T11:00:00.000-06:00

Back to the grind.

For me, for you . . . and apparently, for Al Qaeda, too.

But I can't be bothered by terrorists today.

Why? Because while we continue to lose the war on terror, things in my life are getting better. And I just got the photos from the EAOD photo shoot. Which was probably the best time I've ever had in a cemetery.

And I have two shows to go to this weekend. And a promising new freelance opportunity. And I've started to look seriously at library programs and at the whole Academic Librarian "thing." And I have scooter lessons coming up.

And it's gorgeous outside.

So there.

And just like that, she was gone.

2006-06-10T15:49:00.000-06:00

I had managed to put the pain off for so long that when it came, when I hugged her good bye for the last time at that gate, it came in waves, each one a little harder than the next.

She'll be in Philadelphia for the next few days for training, then she'll take a grueling 2-day air and land excursion into Lesotho.

As I held my family, all four of us, complete, for the last time in two years (and a little more), it was almost like I had never known how much a goodbye could hurt until just then. And then when she looked back at us one last time as she handed the attendant her boarding pass, it hurt again.

I'm sure innocent bystanders at the airport were wondering just how awful her business in Philadelphia must be that we were all crying so much . . .

I'm at Pablo's now, and Neko just sang "better times are coming still." While I know this to be true, it still hurts now. I know that I'll hear from her, hear of her adventures, her encounters, the ugly parts and the good parts. I know that I'll have my own adventures here, albeit much smaller and more domesticated. I know that I have wonderful friends here for me, and more friends come into my life as I go on. But there's going to be this time for a while where it just hurts and there's an absence. It's a hole I need to fill up with new things, new friends, new craziness, new stories to tell. This is the work I need to do . . . but right now it's like the earth has shifted beneath me. I need a moment to regain my bearings.

But I also know this time will go fast . . . and that I need to get as much out of it as I can. I need to really understand who I am without her . . .

It's getting hot in here.

2006-06-09T12:46:00.000-06:00

Dex and I were supposed to go see "An Inconvenient Truth" last night at the Mayan. But it was full.

A screening of Al Gore giving a PowerPoint presentation was . . . full. In a cowtown in a Red State.

Tell me again how global warming is a wacky left-wing conspiracy theory.

Funny, I don't feel any safer.

2006-06-08T09:58:00.000-06:00

Richard Clarke, smart guy that he is, noted that we are truly no safer now than before Zarqawi was killed. He's right, of course. We are no safer now, we were no safer when Uday and Qusay got greased, we were no safer when we got Sadaam. But what's so interesting is that over at the Free Republic, they greeted Clarke's statement with comments like this:

"We heard this same rap when Saddam Hussein was captured....."

So . . . yeah, we did hear the same rap. Because it's true. But why do the Freepers bring this up as evidence of something?

Obviously, they feel something we don't.

Death and pink

2006-06-08T08:59:00.000-06:00

Some photos from the EAOD photo shoot are up at my flickr page . . . In case you wanted to know what it looks like when about 40 hipsters dress in pink and hang out in a cemetery.

What's next?

2006-06-07T11:29:00.000-06:00

Not sure quite how to take this news.

On one hand, I'm glad it seems that some headway is being made. And it looks like the Bush admin's people involved have finally made some progress and has engaged in what both sides are calling "constructive" dialogue. But what pisses me off is Bush's pouty "breakup" type language here:

"We will see if the Iranians take our offer seriously," Bush continued. "The choice is theirs to make."

It's their "on" to "bring." Yeah. So there.

It seems that the only person who thinks that Iran is gonna be easy is Bush himself. Good thing most people around him know better.

It's a small town, after all

2006-06-06T14:07:00.000-06:00

In the past month, I've been hard at work trying to meet as many people in Denver's music/writing/activism scene as possible, and with a little help from MySpace, I've been doing pretty well. But what I've found is that the above-mentioned 'scene' is very very small, very intimate and very incestuous. I keep meeting people over and over again. Like the guy from the sandwich shop by my friend's coffeeshop, who also happens to be a poet and a friend of a friend from college (in Iowa. Weird.). Or the coffeeshop guy from down the street who I ran into at the Hi-Dive and at the Walkmen show last night. And the woman from the EAOD photo shoot who I saw was on the friend list of a person I met at Gabor's who works at Videotique. Currently, my social Venn diagram looks like a Spirograph.

Tiny scene. Small town. But it's comfortable and I like it.

Oh, and check the new profile pic.

It is mine. Oh yes, it is mine . . .

Long before he was "The Dude"

2006-06-05T13:13:00.000-06:00

In my neverending quest to see every good movie ever made, I caught "The Last Picture Show" last night. It was jarring and beautiful- such a low-budget-looking flick with such impressive star power. But what I loved so much about it was that it really spoke to the dilemmas of small-town life that were relevant in the fifties, in the seventies, and remain relevant today. The film captures perfectly how small towns trap young people with a set of limited decisions and no preparation for real life. Even smart kids are more than likely to stay in their hometowns, join the Army, or just get married for the financial security. It happens in small towns today. It happens in my small hometown every day.

We are the rare ones- the ones who make it out and manage to use what few tools our hometowns gave us to hack it in the bigger cities.

My favorite character was the older woman, Cloris Leachman, who takes Sonny as her lover. She is the perfect small-town woman. She tells him that she can't do much of anything without crying about it . . . everything feels disappointing. And there are shots where she (Cloris Leachman!) is sublimely pretty in this eerily tragic kind of way.

The real heartbreak, though, is when Duane leaves for the Army and tells Sonny he'll see him in a year or so, if he doesn't get shot. He delivers this line with such stoicism that you just know he's thought of the options- returning home or getting killed- and both sound equally appealing.

And fifty years later, we're still giving kids that choice, and they are still (though in ever-dwindling numbers) choosing the possibility of becoming a casualty.

I forgot my own anniversary

2006-06-02T16:04:00.000-06:00

Does this make me like a deadbeat dad or something?

Yeah. Vestal Vespa (in blogger/blogspot form) began three years ago as a little venting tool during my senior year at Coe College. Technically it is now closer to three years, one month old, but it turned 3 on May 7.

Looking back at the archives is interesting- most of my misguided opinions from back then are pretty classically adolescent in nature, but they evolve and change and get more mature. And I noticed that I, too, have changed a lot in these past three years. People have always told me that your early 20s are the time when you change the most. I now have to agree. It's been nuts. The highs have been so high, the lows have been devastating. And it seems there is no end in sight.

But the blog has been a great catharsis. For me, it has meant meeting new people, gaining a modest amount of notoriety in the online community as well as in fleshspace, a place for me to air grievances, to broadcast successes and to recuperate from failures.

I was discussing with someone the other day how it was once so secret, these diary thoughts. Time was, you'd write your deepest secrets and fears in a book and lock them away with a little gold key. But I've found it tremendously liberating to put these thoughts here, for all the world to see and scrutinize. This blog is me. Vestal Vespa is Cassandra Schoon. It is my secrets, my hopes, my fears, my opinions, and for the past three years it has been my story of growing up in a world that alternately tortures and delights. All of the people I have met through this have been people who knew me before they knew me.

All in all, it has been an amazing ride. I have said before that I believe the blogging revolution (if you can call it such) is the apogee of the Internet's humanity. It is a way for people to share themselves with the world. And so I have shared myself with you all. Thank you for continuing to let me do that.

Wisdom from Spam

2006-06-01T10:48:00.000-06:00

Today, from my bulk email box:

"Subject: No matter how badly idiots outnumber you... they are still the idiots!"

Somehow this doesn't comfort me much.

Uppity chicks

2006-06-01T09:54:00.000-06:00

I have to think that if the Dixie Chicks were really the Oak Ridge Boys and were equally outspoken about their disapproval of the Preznit, the uproar would be less, well, uproarious.

I really think that at least half of the indignance being expressed by right wing idiots towards the Dixie Chicks (and towards Jane Fonda and to a greater degree Hillary Clinton) is due more to their gender than anything else. Women are supposed to submit, if you buy into the whole conservative M.O., so women who are active and vocal about their dissent are seen as doubly freaky. Add to this the fact that the Chicks are young, attractive women and the old dominionist hackles REALLY go up.

I guess I should be somewhat grateful that we're past the point of burning such ladies at the stake, but I think the rationale behind the right's rancor is about the same. Women with a good head on their shoulders who refuse to eat what they're fed are not just bad Americans, but bad people. Dangerous. Evil, even. Posessed by demons! Unnatural! Burn her! Burn the witches!

Now, Faith Hill, there's a woman.

Ugh.

A double standard?

2006-05-30T09:14:00.000-06:00

So here it is, week three of being single, and it's still a rollercoaster. But here's another problem- my little base of friends is also going to be less 2 girls for the next two years, leaving me with a condundrum. While I am still doing the work to widen my social circle here in Denver, in the meantime I face a lot of solo time. And I'm a girl. So this begs the question- when, if ever, is it OK for a girl to go to a bar alone?

I would have no trouble going to a show by myself- that is a different story. Rock shows are places where I'm bound to find at least one person I know, so it's more like I'm going to *meet* someone I know rather than going it completely alone . . . plus, with a band, it's like there's this other *objective* to the evening rather than just going to pass the time and pick up random guys.

I mean, upwardly mobile young women move to new cities all the time. There has to be that transitional period before we make new friends in which we are faced with spending time alone at home (boring) or going out (better). But going to a bar alone has this nasty stigma, not to mention a certain air of danger about it.

What to do . . .

Duckblogging

2006-05-26T09:46:00.000-06:00

I went for a walk in the rain yesterday and saw, in the middle of my city, a duck momma and her baby ducklings. They were right by the parking lot for my apartment.

So cute.

weird . . .

2006-05-25T15:43:00.000-06:00

Caught this this morning on my way to work.
That lumpy looking thing on the sundeck of the car is a head.

Look closely.
A head. Like for hairdressers.

This is why they invented camera phones.

Young whippersnapper

2006-05-25T09:58:00.000-06:00

Oh, for chrissakes.
(via atrios)

You know, I'm almost out of the 18 to 24 year old demographic, but I think I'm still within it enough to tell Bill O'Reilly he can bite me.

Bite me, Bill.

I think I can speak for most of us in this little handily market-tested age bracket when I say that ignorance has no age. My grandparents are 80 years old and still forward me e-mails foretelling how Bill Gates is gonna start charging for e-mail, or that the post office is catering to terrorists because they are issuing a stamp to celebrate Eid or that some missing eight-year-old kid is going to need our prayers. My grandparents are not really ignorant people, but they sometimes fail to inform themselves on things, and sometimes fail to do enough research and sometimes take these kinds of things at face value. Ignorance is a choice, in some ways. You choose to become informed and make that a priority, or you choose not to. It's a choice independent of age and experience.

And if kids are watching Jon Stewart, they are making the choice to be informed as well as entertained. Kids who watch nothing but Entourage or American Idol are choosing not to be informed. If older folks are watching Frontline or Sixty Minutes, they are choosing to inform themselves. If they spend hours watching Matlock or Touched by an Angel, they're making another choice. It's a human choice, not a choice determined by how many times you've been around the sun.

Hey Mr. Fantasy . . .

2006-05-24T09:50:00.000-06:00

Well, I guess it's good that *someone* is calling this plan out as bullshit.

The thing is, anyone with half a mind and the rudimentary cognitive skills needed to, well, pretty much just look around, knows that mass deportation *would* be pure fantasy, as Bloomberg says. And yet . . . and yet there are those who stand behind it as a plan.

The mass deportation canard is beyond silly, beyond the land of make-believe. It is something fabricated purely for the placation of the few, the proud, the ignorant who are so consumed with fear of having to learn to order Mickey D's en Espanol that it wakes them in the night.

Think for a moment of the sheer logistics of moving 12 million people. Did you think about it? At all? Well, you've already put more thought into it than the folks in the administration who are saying it's something they are considering. They haven't thought seriously about it at all, ever, except to test its market viability among the paltry 30 percent or so of popular support they still have.

I think it's sad, though, that among the many, varied and egregious ways in which this administration has screwed the U.S. over, this will be the one that trips them up the most. It's an issue that truly brings out the worst in people.

For old times sake: a Mike Reagan takedown

2006-05-22T12:02:00.000-06:00

For the first time in a while, I have the time and the energy to do what I do best- make fun of people behind their backs! And this Mike Reagan column is just too, too ripe. So here goes:

No!

Means NO, Eegah.

Last week I wrote that the White House was both stupid and arrogant. This week President Bush spoke to the nation on the immigration problem and promptly proved that I was right.

Stupid and arrogant and NOBODY likes them. And here's why!

There can be no doubt that the overwhelming majority of Americans - Republican or Democrat - are vehemently opposed to giving illegal immigrants a pass and allowing them to become citizens as a reward for breaking the law by violating our borders. Ignoring what a majority of Americans demand is just plain arrogant.

Yeah . . . just plain arrogant. But since when has the Bush administration had any use at all for the majority of Americans?

They also oppose the kind of guest-worker program the president backs because they know it would be simple for a Mexican worker to enter the country as a temporary worker under the guest worker program and then get a Green Card that could keep him or her here for the rest of his or her life. That’s just plain stupid.

Mike Reagan, king of the run-on sentence!

It’s stupid to ignore the facts in the new Heritage Foundation report showing that the Senate immigration bill the president backs would allow 100 million new legal immigrants to come to the United States over the next 20 years. That’s fully a third of the total number of Americans now here.

Ah, the Heritage foundation- bastion of unbiased research. You might as well quote numbers that you can see if you squint at the dots on the ceiling tiles in your recording studio, Mike.

Says the Heritage report: “If enacted, the Comprehensive Immigration Reform Act (CIRA, S.2611) would be the most dramatic change in immigration law in 80 years, allowing an estimated 103 million persons to legally immigrate to the U.S. over the next 20 years—fully one-third of the current population of the United States.

Yay! More squinty numbers!

“In contrast to the 103 million immigrants permitted under CIRA, current law allows 19 million legal immigrants over the next twenty years. Relative to current law, then, CIRA would add an extra 84 million legal immigrants to the nation’s population.”

And more yet . . .

• The report shows that the bill would grant amnesty to 85 percent of the current illegal immigrant population, or some 10 million individuals.
• CIRA creates an entirely new “temporary guest worker” (H-2C) program. There is nothing temporary about this program; nearly all “guest workers” would have the right to become permanent residents and then citizens.
• If all illegal immigrants were granted amnesty, federal tax payments would increase by some $3,000 per household, but federal benefits and social services would increase by $8,000 per household. Total federal welfare benefits would reach around $9,500 per household, or $35 billion per year total. The study estimates that the net cost to the federal government of granting amnesty to some 3.8 million illegal alien households would be around $5,000 per household, for a total federal fiscal cost of $19 billion per year.

You *do* know that most of your readers and listeners aren't really "counting" people, right?

Until just two hours before he spoke Monday night, the president had failed to alert the governors of the Mexican border states that he plans to use the National Guard for border security. That’s just plain arrogant.

He totally texted them that information, like, an HOUR before, but cingular is just kinda hinky with texting between carriers.

Finally, it’s just plain stupid to ignore the fact that the immigration issue is the hottest political issue around. To ignore the demands of the majority of the American people risks losing control of both houses of Congress and the consequences that would follow: endless investigations that would occupy much of the president’s time in the middle of a war, and dooming the nation to a flood of expensive Marxist programs that would cause a gigantic increase in federal taxes. And that’s just for starters.

The hottest political issue "around?" What are you, the Mr. Blackwell of political issues? Oh, yes, Joan, immigration is the school prayer of 2006. It goes from day to evening in a pinch and can be worn with all kinds of accessories like xenophobia and laissez-faire economies. And I love how he brings up the classic Marxist bogeyman, just for good measure. It's the guitar solo of right-wing political commentary. Expected, predictable, but you can just do so much with it.

There’s only one possible answer to the president’s request that his immigration program be enacted: NO!!!

Wow, three exclaimation points. I think he's serious.

Honky Tonkin' Good Times

2006-05-21T13:46:00.000-06:00

Yesterday we had a lovely girl's night out at the Skylark Lounge, down on Broadway and Maple, to see Holdon Wafford and the Hi-Beams.

It was such a classically Denver night- guys in snap shirts and cowboy hats bellied up to the bar with their girls- usually with Bettie Page bangs and lots of ink- while slide guitar and country yodels emanated from the stage. A great way to send my little sister off to Africa in true Colorado style.

This place is one of those great throwbacks- earnestly retro rather than cheesy, trying-too-hard-retro. They serve Hamm's in cans and Bud on tap. Real barflies still go to the Skylark, and sip cheap beer next to Chuck Taylor-wearing hipster kids. The bouncer still tells off-color jokes and cuts girls deals on the cover charge. I love places like the Skylark. I love a town that still has places like that.

Tara and I were discussing a recent Westword "What's So Funny" column by local comic/writer Adam Cayton-Holland wherein he describes New York with a Country Buffet analogy- sure, it's an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord of culture and food and art. But after a while, you see the ugliness of it and the way that it's been presented in a kind of artificial manner, and you get a craving for authenticity. I added that New York is only a Country Buffet if the Country Buffet charged $800 per plate.

What I love about Denver is that it has such an amazing blend of high and low culture- pretty much anything you could ever want from a big city like NYC- but with this down-to-earth authenticity and low-key attitude that makes its appeal so much broader. NYC is not for everyone. Denver can be. And in Denver, you can still partake in world-class music, theater, art and cuisine and still have laundry money at the end of the week. And you don't have to drive 60 miles to find a Target store, either.

Just thinking . . .

2006-05-19T16:04:00.000-06:00

One thing, one memory I can't seem to get out of my head today (probably due to how hot it suddenly is out there) is of summer when I was about 13 in Longmont.

It's not like I remember actual events or stories, just moments. Like walking late at night around my neighborhood with my sister while cicadas droned and gnats flew around yellow street lamps. Or staying up late on my birthday (Aug 11) to watch the Perseid Meteor shower in our backyard and waiting until it was absolutely the darkest it would get. I remember spending days at the swimming pool in town, waiting in line for the waterslide though I really thought I was probably too old for it. And early summer monsoon season where we'd have sun all day and then the sky would darken to produce thunderstorms.

I'm not sure why I keep thinking of these things. I guess it is probably because I've been really down lately and these memories are of times when I was happy, and it helps when you're sad to think about times when you were happy. Maybe its the weather. Maybe it's that I'm nearing 25 and realizing that these memories are now 12 years old. Maybe because I wonder what that 13 year old would say if she saw me now, proofreading ad copy for a living.

Sorry for such a downer post to begin the weekend. But I had to get this down. I have my good days and my bad days. Today is what you'd call a bad day.

Audrey H. In tha hizzy

2006-05-19T09:03:00.000-06:00

Catblogging!

And yet more rock show fun last night at the Starlight Mints . . . proof again that Oklahoma is cooler than people think.

Too fried to post much more than that . . .

Until next time . . .

Vestal Vespa pledge drive

2006-05-18T10:43:00.000-06:00

OK, folks. I am very close to getting this sparkly new(ish) Bajaj scooter, gleaming in mod glory. But. But I was hoping to have a little more time to save up for it and so in yet another case of poor timing, I am a wee bit short of living the scooter dream.

And while I promised I'd never, ever whore the blog out like this, I saw Gavin do it and we all know that if Gavin M. jumped off a cliff, I'd happily follow.

Here it is:

Your opportunity to contribute to the dream I hold so dear- 110 mpg living.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, here is VV performing an act . . . of desperation.

As the guy with the cardboard sign says, anything helps.

Love and kisses,
VV

Ouchie

2006-05-17T08:38:00.000-06:00

OK, so . . . last night in another attempt to prove that beer is not only the cause of, but solution to, all of our problems, I met my girls at Bender's for Indie/New Wave Karaoke.

In my PBR-soaked state, I sang:

1. Son of a Preacher Man
2. Bohemian Rhapsody
3. Free Bird
4. I Love Rock and Roll (with screeching)

I can't really tell you if I was any good or not, but the crowd seemed responsive. But that could just be because it's always funny to watch the drunkest girl in the room belt it out like Kim Deal on a very, very off day.

Needless to say, I awoke feeling a bit wiggly today.

Speaking of Ms. Deal, right now it's all I can do to listen to Surfer Rosa with my headphones on, and to try to focus on this screen. I've learned that indie rock first thing in the morning is like the hair of the dog that bit you after a night like that.

But all in all, I needed that night. Two of the aforementioned girls are leaving me this summer for Peace Corps and grad school. And while I wouldn't trade the past seven months or the relationship I was in for the world, I needed to get back to the work I was doing before to build a base of friends in the city. That's what I came here for- to spend my 20s going out on Tuesday nights, drinking cheap beer and living that much-ballyhooed Rock and Roll Lifestyle. That's not to say I won't get distracted occasionally by really nice guys or need a little time alone or quiet weekends back home in Longmont. That's not to say that there won't be times where I'll be surrounded by people and still feel rather lonely. That's not to say that I won't suffer a the occasional burnout and existential crisis. But the goal right now is to make the kind of memories that will one day make my grandchildren wonder why Nanna is smiling to herself.

If I've learned nothing else in the past half year, I've learned that I'm still really young. But I've also learned that it's not gonna last forever . . .

Tuesday List: Bless Their Hearts Edition

2006-05-16T16:18:00.000-06:00

ACTUAL POEM TITLES FROM TEENPOETRY.STUDENT.COM:

1. "The Meaning of a Rose"
2. "Contaminate me, Baby"
3. "The Ninjas of the Night"
4. "PaIN (A very descriptive poem about pain)"
5. "Off With It (This Pathetic Idiosyncrasy Of Perpetual Entrapment)"
6. "Tore No More"
7. "DIEING"
8. "This Thing You Call Life"
9. "A Borken heart"
10. "Blind and Unaware"

Momma Vespa

2006-05-15T10:08:00.000-06:00

My mom.

My mom is foxy. She just turned 47 and I think she still looks pretty rockin. But she's also taken- she and my dad have been married for 27 years this June. They met when they were 16 and were married at 20. My mom was a mother of two by the time she was my age. Somehow it works.

She's a real live coal-miner's daughter. She is an obsessive recycler and is thinking of volunteering for Planned Parenthood now that little Vespa and I are out of the nest.

So I have my mom to thank for all my smartassery, all my snarkiness, and a lot of my politics. If I were really to rebel as a teenager I would have had to join the megachurch and start dating a youth leader for Right to Life. She's my shoulder to cry on, she's my sounding board, my inspiration, my strength. Which is not to say we don't have our moments of mom/daughter tension, but for the most part they're pretty short lived and we're back to making fun of bad movies or philosophizing on life and love before too long.

So thanks, Mom. For all you do . . .

Friday Random 10

2006-05-12T12:40:00.000-06:00

1. The Guitar Man, Cake
2. The Hardest Button to Button, White Stripes
3. Numb, Portishead
4. Dear Diary, Travis
5. In This Home on Ice, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
6. High Speed, Coldplay
7. Get What You Need, Jet
8. I'm Not Worried at All, Moby
9. What Sarah Said, Deathcab for Cutie
10. God's a Wheeler Dealer, Flaming Lips

Legalize it?

2006-05-11T15:49:00.000-06:00

So last night, in search of some liquid comfort, I headed down to Drinking Liberally Denver. The usual crowd was there, and a good time was had. I managed to show up right in the middle of Mason Tvert's schpeil on legalizing marijuana. You can read more about the night here.

I think it's interesting that so many people who smoke pot do not make a priority issue of legalizing the stuff. I mean, for most of us, it's the most significantly illegal thing we've ever done. Smoking pot carries with it real jail time in some areas, and sale and possession usually carries with it real consequences. So why do so many people consider legalizing pot such a backburner issue?

Because they know they'll never go to jail for it. Deep down, even the most left-leaning hippie knows that only brown and black people ever get into any real trouble for pot, so they can't be bothered to actually do anything to work toward full legalization. Sure, they'll vote if it's on the ballot, but they'll consistently support candidates that either say nothing about the issue or are actively anti-drug in their stance.

Think about it, kids- if you support an anti-drug candidate, you are implicitly supporting someone who says you belong in jail if you have ever smoked the green stuff.

And if you keep supporting them, it's kinda like you think you belong in jail, too.

Just something to consider. I'd never really thought about it myself until last night.

Smile because it happened

2006-05-10T08:34:00.000-06:00

I want to thank him for helping me grow in ways I never thought imaginable.
I want to thank him for the opportunity to learn that I could, despite my cynicism, be loved.
I want to thank him for the moments of sheer, uninhibited happiness that he brought me, right when I was most hopeless.
I want to thank him for the million times we made each other laugh.
I want to thank him for introducing me to parts of myself, and life, and the world, in the best and most beautiful way.
I want to thank him for the countless lessons I learned from all of this.
Thank you for teaching me that I can make someone happy. And if I let my guard down, I can let someone make me happy, too.
I loved you in the best way that I could, and I'll probably never stop being sorry that it wasn't quite enough.

Thank you.

News that isn't really news

2006-05-05T13:29:00.000-06:00

Didja hear?

Jeff Gannon is gay.

Now the next step: find anyone who actually cares.

Having a lousy week. It's raining and I'm depressed. In need of some liquid therapy tonight. Nothing cheers you up like a depressant.

The junkiest

2006-05-03T11:36:00.000-06:00

I was as amused as anyone to hear that Rush Limbaugh had again been arrested on drug charges. And as unsurprised to hear that he'd been basically slapped on the wrist and that he'll probably never darken the door of a jail cell in his life.

But there is something amazing about Rush and his kind- the Coulters, Malkins, Hannitys and O'Reillys of the world. I mean, really. They have managed to tap the great wellspring of ignorance and anger that characterizes the American Right. I have always said that once you can find a product and market it to the stupid, you'll never have to work again. These people have found the product- hate. Anger. Shit-stirring. And they sell it to the masses every day. Our country- and arguably, our species- suffers for it, but they have an amazing business going. There are few products more profitable than anger and a sense of entitlement.

Summer plans, make me feel fine

2006-05-02T15:31:00.000-06:00

This is going to be a really intense summer. I can feel it already. It's only April and the temps out there are nearing 80 degrees. The plans to get a scooter are still somewhat on track, so that will be a fun little distraction and a cheap, easy and peak-oil friendly little hobby. But the heat is the least of my issues. The big one is that I've got to say good bye to my best friend, loyal confidant and oracle of boy advice, my sister, Lizzie.

I remember when she was born. I was 18 months old. It was one of my very first memories and it is as vivid as anything I can muster up in the archives of my brain.

We've been friends ever since- despite rocky roads, separations, differences, tragedy and everything else that comes with being sisters. She's leaving June 11. They restationed her and changed her departure date so I've been lucky enough to have had five extra months with her that I wouldn't have otherwise had. For that, I have the bureaucratic inefficiency of the Peace Corps to thank.

So I'll have a Lizzie-less Summer and it will be hard. My therapist has told me to spend some time trying to figure out how I'll keep myself busy without her. Sadly, over these last few months it's been a trial for both of us to clear out parts of our busy schedules to make time for each other. But now that it's coming down to the wire, I find myself getting a little anxious. I literally have to figure out what I am going to do without her. And it's really hard to imagine right now. I think it's actually too painful for me to think about in the more accessible regions of my brain, and to protect me, my mind is tucking this whole thing safely into my subconscious, where it can't really hurt me right now.

This Memorial Day, we're expected in Wyoming again (you remember last time?), for another gathering with the Grandparents. They both turned 80 last year. They're hanging in there with admirable tenacity. Nothing quite like visiting Wyoming to hang out with your grandparents.

In the positive column, though, I have a Neko Case show in June, the Flaming Lips in July, and The Starlight Mints on May 18 to look forward to. And the big 2-5 looming on the horizon in August.

Yikes.

But I have Audrey, my boy, my friends- bloggy and otherwise- and plenty of sunny Colorado summer days to help me through all this. That's got to count for something.

Tuesday list: Stolen/Lazy edition:

2006-05-02T15:27:00.000-06:00

Unfortunate
Ballpark Promotions.

BY CHRIS STECK

- - - -

Estranged Spouse Night

"The Scientology of Baseball"

Gillette Straight Razor Giveaway, as part of "Turn Back the Clock" Night

Kissin' Kousins Night

Scotts Turf Builder Dandelion Seed Night

"Race Toward the Cure!" Night (featuring a performance by the Cure)

Laser Pointer Night

Goth Day

Queer Eye makeovers

Open Bar Night

"Mission Accomplished"

2006-05-01T10:43:00.000-06:00

Food for thought via Thinkprogress.

What interests me in particular is how the "Decider" managed to turn a 73 percent approval rating into a 38 percent approval rating in two short years.

Who's out of touch with the mainstream now?

Desperately clinging to street cred

2006-05-01T08:35:00.000-06:00

As part of my ongoing task of writing enough to feel comfortable referring to myself as a "writer," I shot a short story off to one of Denver's preeminent zinesters/barflies/literati a few weeks ago. And to my bemused surprise, he decided to publish it in his literary magazine, "Needles for Teeth." So all you local hipsters can pick up a copy featuring my piece, "Chrysalis," this weekend or thereabouts at Capitol Hill Books, Gabor's, Fahrenheit Books or Watercourse Foods. That's where they usually drop them, so I imagine they'll be there this next time.

By the by, local hipsters might also like to know that the Starlight Mints, Dios Malos and The Octopus Project are going to appear at the Larimer Lounge on May 18.

Pretty in Pink

2006-04-28T14:24:00.000-06:00

Audrey just loves to hang in the bathroom.

The 10

2006-04-28T13:42:00.000-06:00

1. I Close My Eyes And Count To Ten, Dusty Springfield
2. Solid Gold, Von Iva
3. First Cool Hive, Moby
4. Untitled 4, Sigur Ros
5. The Air Near My Fingers, The White Stripes
6. Lucifer Rising, The Flaming Lips
7. All Lifestyles, The Beastie Boys
8. Red Dust, Calexico/Iron and Wine
9. Underground, Tom Waits
10. Please Freeze Me, Guided by Voices

. . . and so we beat back, ceaselessly against the current of Ketel Red Bulls . . .

2006-04-27T13:31:00.000-06:00

Boys and girls, welcome to Celebrity Worship Theater.

It's been a while since I've used this space to vent about a cultural issue, but this article grabbed me for its Fitzgerald allusion to Gatsby and his obsessions with those who had more money and status than he. A Gatsby, therefore, is akin to today's party hosts and VIP planners. He is not a celebrity, but enjoys being close to those who are.

But there is a difference between Gatsby and these modern-day scenemakers. Gatsby may have had a made-up persona, but at least it was a persona. These people are about as dimensional as a parking ticket. The only reason they can even conduct these Xenii parties is because they have money and a perceived exclusivity.

The quotes in the story are unbelievable. "There are no hot guys here." "I'm not going to meet the woman I'm going to marry here, but I'm OK with that" "Not to be an elitist, but let's be honest, I want to be with the same demographic [as Jessica Alba]."

The entire structure of these parties is not so much like a real party, but a reality TV show about people who think they're special for hanging out with celebrities. The venues are outfitted like a soundstage. Celebrities are invited as if it were a casting call. And the wealthy pay a stout monthly fee (let's just say it's about eight times what I pay for rent) just to be around them.

I have to say, there are times when I'm happy I'm just a plebian. If I had to pay for friends, I'd be downing the $15 cocktails, too.

Snowed

2006-04-26T11:07:00.000-06:00

There's just something terribly icky about the Snow appointment, but it's icky in the way that most of Bush's appointments have been icky since day one. It's icky because it reeks of cronyism and a disturbing liplock between Rupert Murdoch and the entire Bush Administration's collective ass. But it's so unsurprisingly icky at the same time. I am completely tapped as far as outrage goes at this point. Sure. Go ahead. Hire a perfectly-coiffed talking head for a position that once held real gravitas and credibility. Whatever.

At this point, I'd probably barely be bothered to blog about it if Bush started manufacturing toilet paper printed with the first amendment.

The more troubling thing here as someone on Eschaton pointed out, is that Scotty was a bad liar, and Snowblower is a good one. We're in for some serious smarm here. Scotty was like a guy trying to explain a rash of office supply thefts to his manager. Snow is going to be like the accused in a date rape case. It's gonna be icky in a whole new way.

Thanks, Corndog!

2006-04-25T13:05:00.000-06:00

Tuesday List: Fun in San Francisco!

2006-04-25T10:49:00.000-06:00

12 THINGS I LEARNED IN SAN FRANCISCO

1. According to a gay man, I was the cutest lesbian at this party. Too bad I'm straight.

2. You can get great bargains on accessories at Piedmont's, if you are willing to wade through marabou feather pasties and holographic panties.

3. Laurel Heights billionaire wives consign some really cute clothes for really cheap.

4. Watermelon Wheat beer is really, really good.

5. Beware of Chinese women who want to shove too-small jade bracelets onto your wrist. I still have bruises.

6. The Alcatraz self-guided tour is well worth the price of admission.

7. Bear Bars are recommended for their quality hot wings.

8. Sex shops in the Castro are notable for their truly stunning porn collections, in full display for windowshoppers.

9. The Muir Woods feel like a scene in Lord of the Rings.

10. Taking your indie-rock-lovin' boyfriend to Amoeba Records is like taking an ADD 7-year old to Chuckie Cheese.

11. If the stars are aligned just right, you might find yourself sipping a mojito in a bar in the Castro whilst listening to "It's Raining Men." I did.

12. Someone stole a guy's van in the Haight. Then, someone stole the guy's "stolen van" sign and gave it to me as a souvenir. But I'm not going to name names.

I'm famous on the Internets.

2006-04-20T09:09:00.000-06:00

Last night was the very crowded, very lively Drinking Liberally with our very special guest, Markos Mouslitas of DailyKos:

Had to get a pic. He's so tiny!

It was gratifying that he recognized my blog name and that I was able to meet so many Colorado bloggers that I'd known by name only. A great time, and it made me glad to be a part of something so much bigger than me. This is what the Internet is, at its best, I think. A way to create real community through virtual connections.

My flight leaves in three hours, folks, so I'm out till Tuesday. So talk amongst yourselves, rabblerousers.

Bye, Scottie. And Karl- don't get too comfy there.

2006-04-19T10:10:00.000-06:00

This is what my dad calls "when the wheels fall off."

There's kind of a hubris thing here that satisfies the English major in me. The hero's arrogance is what eventually brings him down. Karl wasn't really a genius, he was just well-connected and willing to break the rules. McClellan wasn't any kind of press expert, he was just one of those dolls that has six different phrases for each time you pull the string. And they got away with it for a good long time, but there is something about true, deep, bad failure that spreads from the top down in any situation. Especially when the one doing most of the failing also fails at putting competent people in important positions.

I said this on Atrios the other day . . . everyone is good at something. Bush is good at failing. He's done it all his life, and you almost have to admire how good he's become at it. He's a virtuoso of failure.

Tuesday Lists: Jaded Edition

2006-04-18T09:25:00.000-06:00

THINGS THAT EVERYONE SEEMS TO THINK ARE GOOD, BUT ARE REALLY NOT, SO FAR AS I CAN TELL.

1. The Olive Garden
2. Exploring nuclear energy technologies
3. John Mayer
4. "CSI: Miami"
5. Kim Cattrall as "Samantha"
6. Organized religion
7. "The DaVinci Code"
8. Kohl's
9. The Cadillac Escalade
10. Crocs.

TASKS THAT ARE APPARENTLY SO DIFFICULT THAT PEOPLE CAN ONLY PERFORM THEM IN A HORRORSCAPE OF BLACK AND WHITE UNTIL AN AS-SEEN-ON-TV PRODUCT SAVES THEM FROM THEIR OWN NIGHTMARE OF INCOMPETENCE AND BRINGS THEM INTO A WORLD OF COLOR AND CONVENIENCE:

1. Draining pasta
2. Chopping vegetables
3. Storing leftovers
4. Doing a sit-up
5. Shaving one's legs
6. Cooking an egg
7. Sleeping

I see dead people

2006-04-17T13:36:00.000-06:00

So this weekend, la familia vespa took my mom to Gunter Von Hagens' Bodyworlds Two exhibit at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science. I took along the boyfriend (we all get along famously) and went to behold the wonders of the human body, preserved in silicone. It was mama vespa's B-day and she wanted to see the dead people.

It was really fascinating, though really difficult to reconcile the idea that the people on display were once among the living. The thing that kind of crystallized it for me was a tattoo on one guy's wrist. Spooky.

Other than that, an Easter weekend spent in true Agnostic style, sleeping in, no church, running errands, enjoying the sunshine. Went up to chez Dex to partake in some HBO (Big Love, my new favorite Mormon soap opera) and stayed for the new Doctor Who. I'm intrigued.

In other news, it's gonna be a short blogging week, as I'll probably refrain from posting whilst in San Francisco. By this time on Thursday I will have downed my first in-flight cocktail and be high above the Colorado Rockies on my way West.

So for now, this is about alls I got . . . plus a new Soapblox post on how Wayne "My Face Is Made Of Pretzel Dough And Ignorance" Allard was recently voted among America's five worst senators. Go Colorado!

Friday dogbloggin

2006-04-14T16:14:00.000-06:00

OK, she's not a cat. She's not a random ten. But she's my favorite pitbull-mastiff mix in the universe. I give you my childhood pet, noble defender, and just all-around awesome dog:

OLIVE!!

This is Olive's happy face. She does this whenever she is happy to see someone. Here, my mom managed to capture Olive's happy face on film.

Happy weekend, all.

But his name sounds all French and stuff.

2006-04-13T15:23:00.000-06:00

Retired Maj. Gen. John Batiste bravely asks: War? What is it good for?

And what's even better is when he takes aim at the complacency of the pro-war Right:

And certainly, too many of these families truly understand the meaning of sacrifice. Most Americans only confront this issue by deciding what color of magnet on the back end of their SUV.

It's getting uglier, folks. More and more people who know what they are saying are saying things like this . . .

This guy is calling for Rumsfeld's resignation. It's the old standoff between the Rummy "let's create a nimble (read:understaffed) military!" and the stalwart Military establishment. But it's got a lot more resonance now that support for the war is waning.

I think this gives me hope that DeLay's takedown was, really, only the beginning.

duck! and cover!

2006-04-12T11:40:00.000-06:00

Can someone tell me in small words just why I should not be terrified right now?

I've been spending the better part of this week (although this has, on the whole, not been a great week so the better part is still not very good) trying NOT to think about this. But it just seems to me that this can go many ways, none of them positive.

While some say that they don't see any reason for Israel to be the only nuclear-capable nation in the Middle East, I don't really see any reason why there should be any nuclear-capable nations, period. I don't know who Iran will posture toward and I can't see it ending well in any scenario, no matter who they pick to intimidate.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I think they're gonna haul out and drop Big One on the midwest or anything. But it's kinda like how it makes me nervous that so many Americans carry guns. I mean, defense and protection are valid concerns, but when it comes right down to it, the whole notion of protection and the whole idea of a threat is contingent upon actually using the weapon to kill people.

And whether it's a pistol or a thermonuclear device, there are consequences that will occur upon the use of either.

The triumphant return of Tuesday Lists!

2006-04-11T09:59:00.000-06:00

I'm sorry. I've been like, crazy, OCD-style-busy these past months, and I've been neglecting Tuesday List duties. So here's a two-fer. That ought to last ya.

WAYS IN WHICH I AM A POSEUR

1. I have purchased faux chuck taylors at Payless Shoe Source
2. I gave up on my Goth phase when it got to be too much work
3. I have an insatiable thirst for Vitamin Water bottled beverages
4. I drive a car that I'd trust to take me safely across a state line
5. About 80 percent of my belongings were purchased at Target
6. I have a 401k
7. I'm secretly kinda pleased that there will be a smoking ban in bars in Denver by July
8. I have no tattoos
9. My bike is not vintage but is built to look like it is
10. I get pedicures

NINE INTERESTING THINGS I'VE SEEN LATELY:

1. A furry dog suit crucified on a post at the intersection of Broadway and Highway 66 on the far North side of Boulder
2. A man in a zoot suit, black and white wingtips and a four-foot watch chain walking down Blake Street in the sunshine
3. A bald man in a dress on a Rascal scooter trying to cross Colfax
4. An aged homeless man with a big white beard singing God Bless America on a bench on the 16th Street Mall
5. A female bodybuilder who looked like Iggy Pop, at my gym in Glendale
6. A couple dressed as Neo and Trinity from the Matrix pushing a stroller down Clarkson near 10th Ave.
7. The filming of a Christian educational film on abstinence at Governor's Park
8. Four elderly gay men in Hawaiian-print shirts at Diedrich's near Cheesman Park (OK, so maybe that's not so unusual, but I remember wanting to spend the rest of my morning with them instead of going to work)
9. A hipster girl pool shark in pearls and a miniskirt beating the pants off of her male opponent at Three Kings Tavern on Saturday

Hardcore, baby

2006-04-10T15:09:00.000-06:00

So this weekend I went to a different rock show each night. This wasn't really planned; I got press passes to Pink Martini for Friday, tickets to an e-town taping for Sunday and the boyfriend suggested an evening with our buddies Everything Absent or Distorted at the Three Kings Tavern on Saturday. So we had what I've been terming "our Very Own SXSW" weekend.

Pink Martini was a lot of fun- a very eclectic orchestra that played everything from 1930s Carmen Miranda songs to 1970s Japanese Carole-King style music. Plus, it was at the very deco-swank Gothic Theater out in Englewood, adding to the cool expatriate Cabaret feel.

Saturday's show was an interesting night, at the Three Kings, formerly the Cherry Pit (Pit was a very apt term for that place, and when it burned down last year it was nearly an aesthetic improvement). The night was not just music- they had comedian Adam Clayton Holland, some really good DJs and a premiere of a video from West Indian Girl on the projection screen. Plus a band called Pee Pee and the grand finale with Everything Absent or Distorted didn't even start until 12:35 or so. It was a late night but I was feeling pretty good and wound up dancing the night away.

The e-town taping was well worth the drive to Boulder. Dar Williams' voice is like buttah and Spoon put on a good, if subdued, show. Plus a talk with Harvey Wasserman on alternative energy.

I don't think I could do this every weekend. In fact, I know I couldn't. But this was a good break- it's nice to end a really tedious week with a weekend like that. It's nice to remember that I am 24 and can rock out all weekend long if I need to. And I needed to.

Hooray for random!

2006-04-07T10:01:00.000-06:00

The ten:

1. Way Out West, Verbena
2. Take Me Out, Franz Ferdinand (Star Wars fanboys/girls click here for some Franz Ferdinand/Obi Wan fun)
3. Black Tambourine, Beck
4. Palm of My Hand, Cake
5. Bombs Over Bagdad, Outkast (Gotta love Southern rap with a sizzling, Prince-style guitar solo)
6. Tonight, Iggy Pop
7. The Brouhaha, Beastie Boys
8. First Day of my Life, Bright Eyes
9. Confusion, The Zutons (I forgot all about these guys.)
10. The Look of Love, Dusty Springfield.

Wow, an eclectic mix this week.

Well, work calls, etc etc, but I have a bonus pic for you all:

Opening day at Coors Field . . .

Moral Majority

2006-04-06T09:34:00.000-06:00

Wow. Just . . . wow.

And there's more.

So the Department of Homeland Security is like the Registered Sex Offender's list of the Bush Administration.

Do you feel safer now?

I mean, I realize these men are sick. They have a mental illness. And yes, it is wrong that we criminalize mental illness to the degree that we do in this country. They should be treated. They should have access to medical professionals and proper care. They should be kept far away from potential victims.

I agree with all of that.

But I also think that they probably should *not* have high-ranking positions within the federal government. I want to know what their superiors knew about their histories before they got these DHS jobs. Everyone who gets some cush job in the Bush Administration only gets it because they are owed favors by people in power. I want to know what these guys did for their bosses before getting these jobs. Nobody's back goes unscratched with this crew.

The Onion Hearts Bloggers!

2006-04-05T10:57:00.000-06:00

Today's "What do YOU Think?" features opinions from Amanda Marcotte, "Mouslitas Ziniga" and John Amato.

Somehow I failed to make the cut.

Tommy, can you hear me?

2006-04-04T08:56:00.000-06:00

Oh, ye of little faith.

"Tom DeLay will never resign, just as George W. Bush has admitted he will never fire Karl Rove until he is convicted and hauled away in handcuffs."

-"Meanbone," DailyKos, Oct. 15, 2005

"Ha ha. DeLay isn't going anywhere. I expect the brouhaha around him to subside pretty quickly. The Dems can't withstand the blowback from the sort of scrutiny they are trying impose upon him."

-"bgsugar," Free Republic, April 23, 2005

"So despite all the moral posturing by Congressional Democrats it is a foregone conclusion that nothing, nothing! will be done. DeLay will not resign in disgrace and will, more than likely, be returned to Congress in '06 because Texas Democrats will not field a strong candidate to challenge him, so greedy are they for Indian gaming contributions. This entire episode will boil down to a great Democratic sound and fury which in the end will signify nothing, a burlesque the loyal back home."

-Bob Jewett, Des Moines, IA, Buzzflash Mailbag, April 20, 2005

Now I'll never be a teen model!

2006-03-31T13:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I just can't resist a good blogthing:

You Are Marcia Brady

Confident yet kind. Popular yet down to earth. You're a total dream girl.
You've got the total package - no wonder everyone's a little jealous of you.

What Brady Are You?

Friday Random Ten, plus less-fortunate kittyblogging

2006-03-31T08:46:00.000-07:00

OK, first: the music . . .

1. No Phone, Cake.
2. Do You Realize, The Flaming Lips.
3. Brothers on a Hotel Bed, Deathcab for Cutie.
4. Brick Is Red, Pixies.
5. Cold Brains, Beck.
6. Every Planet We Reach is Dead, Gorillaz.
7. Oh Word, Beastie Boys.
8. Naomi, Neutral Milk Hotel.
9. All Falls Down, Kanye West feat. Syleena Johnson.
10. Too Little, Too Late, Metric.

And now, kitties.
Background: last weekend the boy and I went shopping around to find him a trusty animal companion. A faithful friend. A partner in crime. So, we went on down to a sketchy little stretch of Santa Fe Blvd. down near Englewood to a shelter called the Animal Rescue and Adoption Society, a cat shelter teeming with big cats, small cats, old cats, young cats, sweet old toms and big bitchy kitties. Here are some highlights:

This was literally the biggest cat I've ever seen in my life. He looks like he has swallowed a medicine ball. He was simply stunning.

Looked over just in time to see the boyfriend getting some serious kitty loving . . .

This guy's name was Sexy Rex. He's an 18-year-old stray with cauliflower ears and tufty old-cat fur. The sweetest cat ever. The old, street-beaten toms always are.

For more info, check out the shelter site. They need all the help they can get. And not to get all Bob Barker here, but please, fix your kitties.

A change will do you good

2006-03-30T10:35:00.000-07:00

OK, so obviously I've changed a few things around, like the header image to reflect the loveliness of my new city in the summertime. And I have a new work-mandated disclaimer to the right there . . . they monitor our Internet use here, so I'm sure they know all about what goes on here at VV. So behave yourselves! And I'll try to keep my droppage of the F-bomb to a minimum.

But what is nice is that I'm no longer scared about posting political polemics and real opinions here, because I'm not bound by the lame-ass "nonbias" contract that the paper made me sign. So ha! Now that I work for a company run by a buncha crazy, creative liberal folk, I can be free to berate this pathetic excuse for an administration all I like.

And I can gloat about this all I like. Although the bastard got the minimum, it's better than nothing.

Gloat, gloat gloat.

And I find this really interesting, because I've always been intrigued by child development stuff like this. I want to get down to the bottom of the mystery of why I was reading National Geographics at six while other kids had, you know, friends and fun and girl scout meetings and stuff.

That's all I really got today . . . I would, though, like to point all my Colorado peeps to a recent quick post I did for Soapblox . . . good on the hometown for organizing something like this.

Just call me Grace . . .

2006-03-29T08:38:00.000-07:00

Picture this . . . Vestal Vespa, carrying laundry up the short stairwell in the back of her 1950's tenement-style apartment building. As the door begins to shut behind her, a thought crosses her mind . . . what if she left her keys in there, behind the rapidly-closing, self-locking door? Crisis! In panic, she turns to grab the knob just as the door latches, trips down the bottom two steps, and rolls her ankle over with a sickly snapping sound.

Yep. Sprained my ankle doing laundry. Just think, if this acts up again, I'll have to say, "oh, dear, that's just my old laundry injury."

At least I didn't lock myself out.

To add to this, I have a nasty cold and it's just now getting nice out. So I'm laid up, laid out, and quarantined. Teh Suxor.

I took yesterday off and today it's back to work. But payday is coming, as well as the vacay (check the countdown) so, as my friend Megan says, there is a light at the end of the ass crack.

Until next time . . .

The Friday Random Ten

2006-03-24T13:18:00.000-07:00

Busy busy busy today, so here goes:

1. You've Got Her In Your Pocket: White Stripes
2. Wandering Star: Portishead (whoa, old-school!)
3. Summer Skin: Deathcab for Cutie
4. Oh So Quiet: Bjork
5. Masterfade: Andrew Bird
6. Milk: Kings of Leon
7. Lay Down and Die: Rock N Roll Soldiers
8. The View: Modest Mouse
9. Le Monde: Theievery Corporation
10. Details of the War: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

Random pop-culture and personal musings . . .

2006-03-23T15:19:00.000-07:00

. . . are all I can really manage in between proofing the legal copy for wireless phone plans. Lemme tell ya, the new job has really taught me the value of actually reading fine print. You would not believe what they can legally put in there to screw you over.

Anyway.

Some neural firings I've had lately:

1. "Project Runway" is the new "Surreal Life." I've seen the finest minds of my generation destroyed by madness . . . and Heidi Klum.

2. I know the iPod Nano is not an emergency. But I feel compelled to charge one to my visa card anyway . . .

Maybe next paycheck.

3. I love the new Kinko's commercial with the "copy cat." The cat, see, he's gonna save them money on copies, because he can paint pie charts. My cat doesn't paint pie charts. All I ask her to do is to do the dishes every once in a while and she won't even do that. And I'm sick of opening her mail.

4. Even though it was snowing this morning, I could tell it was springtime. Something heady and alive in the air. Something fresh and green. It was a great thing . . . sometimes I forget that the seasons will, in fact, change, and I get taken slightly by surprise when they come around again.

5. The new Neko Case has made my spring, just as Beck's "Guero" made last spring. Lovely, lovely.

6. The boy sent me flowers for my desk a couple of days ago and they are still beautiful. Blooming and becoming more beautiful, actually. This bodes well.

7. I've joined a gym, as exercise is supposed to alleviate anxiety. The 24-hour gym thing intrigues me. I think I'll go at like, 3 a.m. sometime after a Gabor's night and play in the sauna. And it amuses me that I see other hipster kids in there with tattoos and Chuck Taylors sweating as hard as I am . . . body insecurity knows no genre.

8. Another gym note: the window in front of my favorite stairmasters directly faces the warmly glowing menu board at the neighboring KFC. I often feel like I'm climbing K2 to get some of the Colonel's tasty buttered biscuits.

9. So the countdown begins for my sister's departure to the wilds of Lesotho. She's leaving on June 11 and I am worried that I won't be able to get enough Lizzie time in before that . . . I'm thinking we need to make a Casa Bonita run before she goes, just for old time's sake. I am also thinking I'm not going to feel the full impact of her absence until I wave goodbye to her at the airport . . . not going to be easy at all.

10. Work calls again. One hour left . . .

Just making some pudding for the apocalypse . . .

2006-03-21T11:42:00.000-07:00

Today on NPR they covered a trip that Cheney had made to a bar in Ohio. After quoting a few of his half-assed jokes (watching Cheney tell a joke must be like watching Stalin do a puppet show) and interviewing a few of the local freaktards (I support the TROOPS! I support the PREZNIT!) they asked an older woman what she thought of Cheney's appearance.

I'm not sure what she said exactly, but it came down to this: "It was really great to see the Vice President. It made me feel like a real American."

Now, I've talked at length about what makes a "real American." But what really bothers me is this sort of fucked up Divine Right of Kings philosophy that so many Americans adopt with respect to their elected officials. I mean, just yesterday, the self-same NPR station had an in-depth segment on the shifting rationales for the war, which included flat-out, bald-faced audiotaped LIES from the likes of Cheney and Condi and Bush himself. Lies. Not regrettable missteps, nothing that could be thought to be out-of-context, just lies that these people were telling the American people. And yet, here is someone who finds the mere presence of a lying evil elected official to be inspiring and somehow fulfilling.

I guess it is really no coincidence that these people are usually also very Christian. When it comes down to it, their faith is unwavering because the idea of a leader who doesn't care for them is as frightening as the idea of an atheistic world. If Bush doesn't care about them, what if God doesn't care about them? What if they are truly uncared-for by any cosmic or governmental powers?

It's a scary thought. And we all know how much Americans like being comforted.

Just when do you start calling optimism "pathological?"

2006-03-20T15:12:00.000-07:00

Christ on Club cracker.

At this point, even his friends have conceded that there is nothing short of civil war going on in Iraq, and this knucklehead is still talking "victory."

Just what does your victory look like, Mr. Bush? Just as the rationales for the war have changed more often than my hair color in college, the preferred outcomes have changed as well.

I really believe that "victory" for Bush's plan has already happened. He had always wanted a destabilized failed state there, that would continually be at the mercy of the US. And he's had his "victory." Now on to Iran.

It's hard work.

2006-03-18T09:20:00.000-07:00

This past week's events included me having a nervous breakdown, broke up with my boyfriend, had a two-day mourning period and then spoke with him and decided to try again.

Yeah. Life is hard. But there are just somethings that you need to fight for, work out, work through and make better.

What they say is true about not knowing what you have until it is gone, and it is also true that you've found someone truly special when you find someone who can forgive you for your mistakes, even when you hurt them really, really badly.

So that's what's up. One day at a time and all that.

And in a world that is fucked up enough to unleash THIS upon a tender and unsuspecting public (that will no doubt adore it, despite the fact that it is the like intellectual self-poisoning), it is good (maybe even necessary) to have a partner to keep you happy and sane.

Can I get it on Netflix?

2006-03-15T13:58:00.000-07:00

Holland has made it mandatory for immigrants to view a 105-minute video featuring gay romance, nudity and other such behaviors in order to pass an entrance examination.

So you can't actually move to Holland unless you are comfortable with such imagery.

Some religous groups are calling it discrimination. The Dutch minister of immigration says that all those who would like to become Dutch citizens must be comfortable with modernity.

I have to say I think it's a fine idea. I think we should do the same in Colorado. If nothing else, maybe all those idiots who drive SUVs with those god damned "Calvin Praying" stickers would stay in Texas or South Carolina or wherever the hell it is that they keep coming from.

Tuesday List: Modern Messiah Edition

2006-03-14T15:18:00.000-07:00

ACTUAL QUOTES FROM POSTINGS AT THE DR. PHIL MESSAGE BOARDS:

1. "i wanted to try and get him to go to counseling because i think it was related to self-esteem issues. we never did but eventually ass of a sudden he changed one moring and now we have sex about 2 times a week...which is good for me."

(ed. note: I know "ass of a sudden" must be a typo, but it has such great cadence that I had to put it at the top of the list)

2. "Are you living your authentic self? I finally do!"

(but apparently he is not living with a seventh-grader's understanding of subject-verb agreement)

3. "I started read Self Matters a few days ago and it was amazing - it was like the book was written about me."

(You mean, written about your . . . *SELF*?)

4. "As we breathe we continue to be in the process of being."

(oy.)

5. "Well, it is true that you can't change what you don't acknowlede but when you look at the question, what am I not satisfied with in my life and your answer is nothing is ever good enough well haaaaaaa how in the world do I change that!!! I mean sure I know it's possible but well yeah I don't know what I am talking about. LOL"

(Honey, go to a *real* doctor . . . now . . .)

6. "Your hopes and dreams are far more valid than your doubts and fears. -Dr Phil"

(Aw . . . you can almost see this in gold, written on a fuzzy kitten poster . . .)

7. "Just curious what the jist of Self Matters is - is that the goal of the book, to help you find your authentic self?? Glad you posted this, I may just have to go out and buy it!!"

(Wow . . . I bet the working title was "How I, Dr. Phil, Will Make Millions of Dollars on the Weak Self-Esteems of Others.")

8. "Our lifes r a constant state of learning.When we learn all we need to learn here, we move onto death which is just the beginning."

(Right . . . because Death is kind of a cosmic Grad program.)

9. "I have had "therapists" tell me that I was nuts and that I had all kinds of disorders I knew I did not have."

(And now you have a "doctor" telling you you are just not your "authentic self" yet. Good choice!)

10. "SINCE MY TRACTOR ACCIDENT I CAME TO HATE MY BODY, ASHAMED OF IT,"

(* . . . blink . . .*)

Freakshow

2006-03-13T08:46:00.000-07:00

The above is from Postsecret. But it seemed particularly amusing after heading over to Mr. Dex's place last night to catch the season premiere of "Big Love" on HBO.

Altogether I liked it because the family is surprisingly normal for being what they are . . . that is, being a man with three wives, three houses and countless children. The writers took obvious care to draw a big fat line between mainstream mormons and the bizarre cultish behaviors of the fundamentalists who live on self-contained compounds in the Utah wilds. But at the same time, they do show the compound life for what it is- a terminally patriarchal society that slowly degrades and destroys those who chose it in search of God's guidance and favors.

Harry Dean Stanton did a supremely creepy job of the Prophet, the head of the fundamentalist sect who also happens to be in his sixties and married to a 14-year old girl named Rhonda. He is also one of Bill Paxton's fathers-in-law, through his marriage to Chloe Sevigny. He is one of many unseverable ties the family still holds to their old life on the compound.

But one thing I really loved about the show is how well the set designers and costumers captured that "Mormon" look of Utah, the Hendrickson homes and even the people themselves. Women with long, scrunchie-bound French braids. Quilts hung on walls as art. Huge, heavy and ornate furniture. It reminded me very much of home, and of trying my best to understand the faith that made up such a large part of our community.

Friday twofer: Cat and Music

2006-03-10T09:39:00.000-07:00

Kitty, via the new Samsung A900 Cameraphone:

And the random, via iTunes:

1. Do You Want To, Franz Ferdinand
2. The Christians and the Pagans, Dar Williams
3. Deep Red Bells, Neko Case (the new Neko is on its way from Amazon! Hooray!)
4. Some Weird Sin, Iggy Pop
5. Wake Up, The Arcade Fire
6. Can't Hardly Stand It, Charlie Feathers (from the Kill Bill Vol. 2 Soundtrack)
7. Bario Alto, Theivery Corporation
8. Razz, Kings of Leon
9. At the Bottom of Everything, Bright Eyes
10. Extraordinary, Liz Phair

Have a lovely weekend, all; filled with sunshine and pink hummers . . . whatever you take that to mean . . .

Love,
VV

Why cameraphones were invented

2006-03-08T12:53:00.000-07:00

Spotted on Park Ave., Denver, yesterday:

Note the "Pink Vixen" license plate.

Ah, America.