You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September 2008.
1. toast crumbs on keyboard
2. call to library tech (done)
3. scene 17 (which should have been finished weeks ago)
4. band uniform (hang out)
5. girl’s laundry
We haven’t seen much of Obama in the past few days. I miss him. There’s a sort of calm to him that makes me feel safe. In the news, it’s all “cranky McCain, mocked Palin,” bailout, failure, economy tanking, blah, fear, blah, devastation, blah, we’re doomed, blah, runs on banks??? (money markets making runs on banks in the UK if I understood correctly the interview I heard on NPR. But perhaps I hadn’t had enough coffee).
I start to think about what it will be like to do without. We are all so spoiled with our 700 TV channels and our excessive number of computers (at least in my house), CDs, iPods, cell phones.
Do I/we really need to be this connected, this wired? We definitely don’t need so much stuff.
6. pack up child’s things for her week with her dad
7. acknowledge that you cannot find poetry in Sarah Palin’s words, so previous post is not “found poetry,” it’s just a random list of … of… crap.
8. don’t think about how difficult it will be to watch John McCain give State of the Union addresses with his cranky, twisted mouth and voice that, much to your dismay, has that lovely, smoke-ruined quality that your dear father’s voice had
9. explain to any stranger reading this post that you sometimes write in second person, to yourself, just because you’re an idiot
10. shower
When my daughter is away this week, it will be easier to organize the house. She scatters bits of herself from back door to bedroom. She covers our tiny bathroom counter with hair things and make up and contact solution bottles. I really don’t mind, though sometimes it’s just all too much. We have no place to put things. Crappy little house. But at least I can manage the mortgage for now.
Our Next Door Neighbors Are Foreign Countries
(random thoughts on foreign policy)
back and forth
trade missions
we
we
do
it’s important
security
issues Russia
Putin rears his head
and comes into the
air space
of
the United States of America
where do they go?
It’s Alaska
right over the border
from Alaska
we send those
(those? those? those?)
out to make sure
that an eye
keep an eye on
that powerful nation,
Russia
right there
right next to-
to our state
Mock?
(please don’t make me watch the video again. I can’t take it.)
… as my daughter would say.
Congress rejected the bailout plan!
I guess this means disaster. All of our homes will turn to feces and a supernatural flood will wash the feces into our sewer systems, which will back up, and we will be forced to rebuild our shitty houses using, well, shit from the sewers.
(“Ew!” my daughter says.)
Am not melting down over the volunteer work. I love the volunteer work. I am going to create and manage some book clubs for the middle school within the next few weeks. Book fair was, as always, much fun, though we had to separate the “junk” side of the store from the books side so that we could keep a better eye on things that might go missing.
My melting down relates to reading about the bailout agreement that the House and Senate are both likely to pass because if they don’t, of course, the Earth’s core will explode and we will all die a fiery death.
I can’t wait until this election is over. I wish I were prescient and knew how it would go so that I would know whether I should buy expensive wine for celebration or cheap wine for drowning my sorrows.
I wish I had close friends in this town who were raging liberals like I am. We could make ourselves T-shirts that read, “Proud to be a Libtard,” or “Pansy Pinko Pacifist on Board.” We could drink pink lemonade and wear pink laces in our tennis shoes.
Rah, rah!
I’d love to watch Thursday’s VP debate with good friends, but my best friend here thinks Obama wouldn’t have gotten where he is if not for his color.
GAH!
What am I doing here? I have to mail some bills, buy some refried beans and something else that I can’t remember, dose my cat with flea medicine and remember to pick up my lovely teen from school.
so, bye
After Friday’s debate between John McCain and Barack Obama ended, I watched as the two candidates’ wives joined them.
I have to clarify something here. I’ve met Michelle Obama, was part of one of her women’s round table sessions when she came to southeast Ohio in late February. Maybe she bewitched me, but I don’t think so. I’m fairly clear-headed when it comes to meeting famous people. I entered the discussion nervous more because of the television cameras than because I was meeting a woman who might become the next first lady, who sleeps in the same bed with the man who might be our next President. I had things I wanted to know and needed to say to her, and I was so damned excited to have her ear for a few minutes.
Before the session started, the six of us – normal women, all with different stories and different concerns (mostly about the economy, education, ensuring that our children won’t end up fighting an illegal war when they are old enough, and mine is 13, so it’s not that far-fetched, though the thought of my artsy, wild-haired, bohemian rebel of a child in combat uniform is so ludicrous that I can’t allow myself to worry) – just talked to Michelle. We just talked in this informal, relaxed way. We didn’t realize the microphones were on for sound checks because the conversation was intense. She was … real. She was not a sound bite or slogan.
She is also so much in love with her husband that I could smell the fragrance of their love on her skin when she hugged me (she hugged all the participants) after the session was over.
Michelle and Barack Obama are a real couple, an earnest couple. I have been in love that way with my daughter’s father. I believed in him the way Michelle believes in Barack. What I got to see during the brief time we all talked before the cameras rolled was the reality behind the public front – who takes out the garbage, who does the laundry, how the daughters nagged their father to quit smoking, how hard it is for her to be away from her children (she tries not to spend more than a night away at a time), how she believes that the country needs her husband…
or whatever.
I haven’t met Cindy McCain, so this post is biased because of my experience. Still, when the candidates greeted their wives after the debate ended, it seemed that Michelle and Barack merged in this organic, “We still have sex on the living room floor when the girls are sleeping,” sort of way that seemed impossible to imagine with the McCains. It’s possible that what I was seeing was McCain’s physical stiffness from his injuries and age. But, I don’t know, I get the feeling John doesn’t really like Cindy very much.
From what I can tell, Cindy McCain (despite her vast wealth. I cannot hold her money against her) is a good, gorgeous woman who gives a lot of herself and her time to excellent causes, so, really, what’s not to like besides the fact that she’s a terrible public speaker?
See, all I really want to say is that something about the Obamas as a couple appeals to me. And that matters for some reason. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it does.
No, I’ve not made my point. I’ll post this, anyway. I’m not trying to change anyone’s mind. I’m just working through all the aspects, wondering if I’m seeing clearly. It’s all right. It’s not like I’m claiming to be some kind of great authority or brilliant thinker.
Yep. That’s a disclaimer. “This blog is written by an ordinary, biased, sometimes stupid woman who only knows what her pea brain can store. So don’t expect great inspiration or unique concepts.
(oh wow. someone already wrote about the Obamas’ relationship. Cool. Maybe I’m not as much of a dork as I think I am.)
*
I have an idea for a creative writing exercise that I want to try out. If it works the way I hope it will work, I will give it to my friend who teaches to see what she thinks. I think I might talk to the library tech tomorrow (when I volunteer again at the book fair. By myself this time. Yikes! I hope nothing else goes missing) about setting up a time for kids to form a writing club or something. Once a week or once every other week. I could even just give the school a day, all day, be there for different sections. Well, I’ll work it out with her.
It’s nearly October. This means that I will start thinking about National Novel Writing Month, which begins Nov. 1. Bad me. I need to finish drafting Lily’s novel before I start a new one.
So, after I empty the dishwasher, clean up breakfast dishes, check on my child (who is hiding in her room), shower, etc., I’ll try to find some self-discipline.
Sleep saturates the house walls this late morning. My child is still in bed. Her daddy wants to talk to her and sends me emails complaining that when he asks her during her weeks with me what she’s been up to, she says, “nuthin’.” I had just written a kind of “recap” of her week for him. I wish he would understand that she doesn’t love me more or him less. Sometimes I think she loves him more but finds me easier to talk to. I am lower maintenance. I’m her support staff.
He is her daddy.
I love my relationship with my child. We work.
We were up far too late (and I was up far later than she was trying to scrub the taste of debates out of my mouth and the sound those voices out of my ears. Jim Lehrer’s dead eyes haunted me all night long).
My girl is tired of her friends, though maybe she will feel better when she wakes up after so much sleep (nearly 12 hours now). She thinks the next time she plans a movie outing, she will only go with her friends who are boys. They are more fun, less manipulative, less likely to assume they know what is in her head. Her girl friends can’t understand that my Girl likes the people these boys are without the complication of “crushes.” (though she does still love ex-”boyfriend” and always will.)
I shouldn’t write about my girl’s life, shouldn’t write about the friend who has a crush on a boy who is half black, half white. “E’s mother would never let her go out with him because he’s part black,” my Girl said. “Why are people LIKE that? I’m leaving this place.” pause to take a calming breath. “But not until after I’m done with school.”
*
I see that Paul Newman has died, and my eyes fill with tears. Don’t get on me about grieving for a celebrity I’ve never met. This is not about that. This is, actually, about my mother,who didn’t like many celebrities, but did like Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. She liked Newman because he was handsome and charming and Woodward because she stayed married to Newman. You’d be happy, Mommy. Fifty years they were married! Hell, if you and Daddy were still around, you would have been on fifty-one.
*
It’s a disturbing sign of our culture when a politician must lose points for being “too nice.” We are a nasty nation. I saw this odd, twisted look on that one candidate’s face at times as if he were thinking, “Score!” every time he succeeded in spewing out another lie or the word “naïve” or said the phrase, “my opponent doesn’t understand… .”
bleah. I don’t feel like thinking about this today. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t finished my draft. I’m in big trouble with my editor (me).
I should rouse my lovely child who is on the “staff” for the “Bonanza of Bands,” and are high school band competition that our city hosts. She will be a score keeper, gets a T-shirt, will hang with some of her friends. I think I’ll watch some of the competition. Hearing young people making music together inspires me.
*
Yay! It’s alive (child has just come down from her room).
I need a glass of wine. I can’t look away. I really, really am having flashbacks to the year I worked at the little private preschool in the kindergarten and first grade classroom. There’s just this atmosphere.
John McCain is… t
al
k
ing
20
0
00
additional troops
elements
McCain keeps saying Obama wants to attack pakistan
now obama is defending himself.
OK.
really.
wine
WINE.
I think I’ll go kiss my kid’s forehead. She was going to ….
Oh wait! McCain just looked very ashamed when Obama brought up the “Bomb, bomb, bomb Iran” thing.
but there’s an element of mendacity in what Obama is saying.
They are all liars.
But I still know who will get my vote.
(though dear Cynthia McKinney wanted to be part of this debate)
I think I’m going to mute this thing.
yo
bye now
I am 20 minutes late to the party! Lost like the kids used to be lost when they arrived late in the kindergarten classroom and had to join the rest of the kids at circle time.
McCain:
more
loop holes
additional tax cut over the loop holes
$5,000 health credit
intends to for the first time in history, health benefits
open market
McCain is smirking
Oh dear. McCain is breaking the rules. Lehrer looks at him with his coal black eyes.
they are going to argue. Cool.
Fought
earmark
person
control
believed
have a tax system that is fundamentally fair
proposals to simplify
two tax brackets, generous dividends, existing or new.
(are they really saying anything? is this a waste of my time? should I pop in A Room with a View?)
McCain laughs.
Obama – good stuff…
What’s with McCain’s smirk? Is he on Prozac?
Bailout question: give up, priorities, as a result of having to pay for the rescue plan.
Obama – Range of things that are going to be delayed. Hard to see what budget will look like next year. Are something things that I think have to be done. Energy independence. Ten-year plan. Invest in alternative energies – solar wind bio-diesel.
He mentioned my state! Woot!
(I’m not biased)
American families are getting crushed as a result of health care.
third thing. Competing in education. keeping pace in math and science. College affordable for every young person in America.
Infrastructure.
roads
Energy grid
Structurally to make sure we can compete in this global economy.
McCain’s turn: No matter what, we’ve got to cut spending. We’ve let spending get out of the control. It’s hard to reach across the aisle from that far left. Obama laughs.
Do away with cost plus contracts.
$140 million ship that cost $400 million and still isn’t done.
Defense spending vital but need to get cost overruns under control. I know how to do that.
Contract with Boeing and DOD. We killed it. People ended up in prison.
Eliminate people not during their job.
Lehrer – Neither one of you is suggesting major changes in what you want to do as President due to the bail out.
Obama stutters to an answer. Individual components. Yada. subsidies private insurers skim of $15 …did he say million or billion?
change the culture (which?). wildly liberal is mostly me opposing George Bush’s policies.
Google for government. Ooh! List every dollar government is spent.
They are not answering Jim’s question.
McCain – spending freeze with exception of defense veterans and vital whatevers.
Obama – doesn’t really want to freeze anything. He thinks about savings. (I wonder if he likes to buy lattes every day on his way to work)
Wait. McCain just said something that I’ve heard Palin say.
Um. why is McCain talking about…..what????
What?
700,000 jobs. Nuclear power? ACK!
Oh. Barack just gave john SUCH a look.
Poor Lehrer. They won’t answer the question.
O – no doubt that it’s going to affect our budgets. In the short term, there’s an out lay and we may not see that money for a while (talking about the slow move upward after Roosevelt bought the mortgages. and don’t yell at me for the way I phrased that. I know what I mean).
M – I would suggest that he start (cutting spending) by… wait. I forgot what he said.
Veterans veterans (I love veterans and think they’ve been shafted, but DOG!)
there we go. this president. budgets. lead. control in spending. balancing. dude. happened. hasn’t. swallow. lalalalalala.
my kid gets on iChat and then promptly disappears when she sees her daddy is there.
McCain – long record. Independent. Maverick. MAVERICK. MAVERICK!!!!!
Lessons of Iraq question to McCain – can’t have a failed strategy that will then cause you to lose a conflict.
He talks about fundamental change in strategy.
Oops. Girl’s daddy just nudged me on iChat and I accidentally quit the chat.
hahahahahaha!!!
I cannot live blog and talk to my half-husband!
OK. McCain. I stopped listening. War. Petraeus. Winning. Home. Not in defeat.
Obama – Fundamental difference. OK. Now. The trouble with what Obama is saying is that it’s too late. We are there. We have to deal with what’s happened now.
lalalalalala. Still. I want us to stop being in Iraq. But that’s because I’m a pinko peacenik. GAH! Someone will call me ignorant.
No, this isn’t about me.
Strategic. Security perspective.
Eye off ball. and I love a line or seven.
$10 billion a month? Really? $10,000,000,000? Yeah. I knew that already.
Never hesitate to use military force to keep our people safe, but we have to use our military wisely.
But, John! That was Jim’s question!
The surge. THE SURGE! Yet. Oppose
I’m want to stop typing now. I have an ache.
I’m afraid Sen. Obama doesn’t undestand the difference between a tactic and a strategy (says McCain). Ooooooh! Snap!
these soldiers say they don’t want their kids
their kids
to come back here (Iraq)
why does this make me want to cry?
Afghanistan now.
Really. I need to stop.
getting a nap in while daughter organizes a movie trip with friends is good for the soul.
so is a handful of Cheez-Its.
I would “live blog” this attempt by my child to arrange to have her favorite people with her at the movies tonight, but she would catch me and get annoyed. I am not, she says, allowed to write about her.
oops.
so. I nearly decided not to write about the economy (because someone actually thought I was too stupid to do the math without a calculator because I didn’t write that part very well and was trying to make a point about just how big a $700,000,000,000 bailout package seems to us normal people (who haven’t done algebra since they were 13, ahem, 37 years ago, dude. I have a right to my calculator, dammit! I have to save brain cells for imagery!)) or politics because I’m just …
…just…
me.
And I have no expertise, no extra knowledge, no brilliant insights or unique viewpoints.
I am simply a woman, an extraordinarily ordinary woman who isn’t very good with numbers (though my only debt is my mortgage, and the last time I was overdrawn on my checkbook, I was 17 and living in a different country), who tends to think with her heart as much as her brain…
Oh, never mind.
I just want to remind myself that even if it looks like McCain experienced some bad PR today, and (Letterman, etc.) just because some conservative columnists and commentators are criticizing him and Sarah Palin (and I’m not linking. Too lazy), doesn’t mean the voters will vote for Obama. Voters don’t necessarily care what late-night talk show hosts and commentators think.
McCain could suck tonight and still win the election.
Palin could suck at next week’s debate, and McCain could still win the election.
Obama could come up with some brilliant strategy for making our lives more beautiful, and McCain could still win the election.
This is just a note from me to me. Me to me. Let’s just say, in my town, I see a lot of McCain yard signs.
My child’s fingers on her lap top keyboard move so fast, click sharply. Lively girl. Her ex-”boyfriend” will be there tonight and his best friend and one of her best friends.
“And E keeps saying she’s going to call me back and then, what the heck? She doesn’t,” she says, and she groans.
She has rinsed her hair and changed her shirt. She’s now drying her hair, soothing sound, though the cat looks distressed.
“My hair really is turning purple again,” she says. The August experiment in blue streaks turned lavender turned purple turned pink colored permanently (we thought) blue black appears to have failed. “I’m just going to let my hair turn whatever color it wants,” she says.
I appear to be live blogging my daughter’s evening preparations.
I will probably miss the beginning of the debate since I am picking her and her friend up from the theatre and need to take time to drop off her friend at her house, but that’s all right. I don’t even know if I can stomach it tonight. I really should let Lily take me over, you know, Lily, my long languishing main character who wants me to damn well finish her novel so that she can be rid of that demon husband.
Unless I decide that he wins.
This morning after I dropped my daughter off at her middle school, instead of coming home to pretend to be a full-time novelist (while secretly reading every political blog I can find between 7:55 a.m. and 2:15 p.m. with breaks to shower, pee and pour fresh mugs of coffee), I stayed at the school to volunteer at the book fair.
It was madness, but God do I love those children. I even love the bad ones, the shop lifters that I know were sneaking erasers and highlighters into their purses or pockets. (I didn’t catch any in the act.) I love watching the “courting dance” of girls trying to draw on boys’ faces with markers or boys poking girls with the butt end of a pencil.
A few things went missing today, but not as many, apparently, as yesterday. Little things that Scholastic mostly sends as … what? Teasers? Temptations? If it isn’t a book, it’s junk. But that’s OK. It draws the kids in and makes the idea of books more appealing, I think.
So many of these kids have nothing that I’m not surprised things went missing. The tiny boy with the cross earring so wanted to buy a book but only had a dollar. The junk didn’t appeal to him. He was a serious boy with his shaved head, short stature, tired clothes. He reeked of cigarettes. I know that these kids are scheduled to death, so there was no way he was out behind the school smoking. The stench must be from a parent or guardian.
One boy bought a couple of books and some pencils and paid all in change, including three and a half dollars worth of pennies. Some interesting “things” came out of his pockets with those pennies. But he knew exactly how much he could afford, had counted out those pennies last night before bed. I’m not even shitting you.
My kid is a lucky girl. She and her friend who came up to the library during their language arts class glow with health and profound, almost subconscious joy. They are such well-tended children that their good luck and good will seem to rub off on others. Do you know what I mean? Probably not, but I don’t care.
This year’s new library tech is willing to work with parent volunteers as aides, book club leaders, was even open to the idea of a poetry/writing workshop. (woot!) I’ll have to be careful not to give away too much time. I really do have to finish that novel, then finish one of the others I have in progress.
Still, since some of my in-progress fiction is geared to teens or young adults, it will be good for me to be around the kids again.
I adore them, count myself blessed when I get to spend time with them.
enough. I have errands to run and really should do the vacuuming I didn’t get to yesterday.
