Last Weekend (Prior to the Month of the Recount)

Another weekend spent with the Kerry/Edwards campaign in Wisconsin. I feel bad for the people who live in swing states, as they must have gotten inundated with phone calls, doorbells/knocks, and tv ads from both campaigns. The people I've spoken to say it hasn't been too bad, but I tend to think they're just numb to it all now, as they've all described much more than I've experienced here in Illinois. And snaps to everyone I met in Wisconsin during this campaign - they've all been so helpful and pleasant, carting me around to the different places we had to canvass etc. We're all working towards a common cause, I know, but it's so much better when everyone's friendly and gracious.

Anyway, all day Saturday I was out doing "knock-and-drops" - knocking on people's doors and leaving Kerry/Edwards fliers. Most people weren't home, and after a while I just started leaving the fliers, as I know I wouldn't want to be bothered by yet another knock on the door. There was a fierce wind blowing and occasional rain which didn't help, and as I was pounding the pavement from 9am - 4:30pm, I had some serious blisters on my feet at day's end. One incident I found funny - even though we were not stopping by houses that had Bush yard signs out, while I was walking up and down one street, a Bush supporter felt the need to come out and straighten (or perhaps more firmly entrench) her Bush/Cheney sign. Three times.

Sunday morning I got Visibility duty instead, which entailed standing on a (relatively) busy street corner, holding a giant Kerry/Edwards sign and passing out yard signs/stickers to any who wanted them. This was considerably easier in my opinion than phonebanking or canvassing, as I don't feel I'm invading people's lives. The responses I got from passing vehicles went as follows:

1 guy flipped me the bird
1 yelled "KERRY SUCKS"
1 woman yelled "GEORGE BUSH"
And a few thumbs down from people, one of whom in his sheer concentration to give me a vehement thumbs down, nearly drove into the curb. Oops.

I smiled and waved at all of them. They've got a right to their own opinion too.

I did get considerably more beeps and waves, thumbs up, big smiles, and one guy cruising past on his motorcycle, who could easily have passed for one of John Stillman's uncles, held up his fist in a salute of support. Several people stopped and asked for yard signs (of which I didn't have many since the campaign is running out up there) and stickers. One lady hopped out of her van to stash the signs in her trunk, and as I gave her husband the stickers, he said "I've never seen her this excited about anything like this!!!" So there was much to be encouraged about. Still, in my effort to present a pleasant Democratic face, I have not smiled so much since sorority rush in college. I couldn't move my facial muscles afterward - that must be what Botox feels like.

Through all of this I've remained puzzled about the sheer will of Bush supporters to defend Bush and refuse to listen to anything bad about him. You have to be a different kind of person to be a politician, and more often than not, politicians make mistakes and don't live up to their promises. (Of course there's sometimes extenuating circumstances, but you have to admit the general trend is to not trust politicians.)

So I am bewildered by this blind trust and resolute loyalty in defense of Bush. It nearly smacks of religious fervor, and to exhibit that kind of faith in a politician is not only foolish, but dangerous in my opinion. Kerry supporters generally seem to have a more rational view of things, that being that Bush has done the country a lot of wrong, and a person like that does not deserve another 4 years as our President.

Anyway, we're almost to the end, and hopefully by Christmas, we'll have a new President. One bit of potentially good news - the Redskins lost their home game before the election (Thank you Green Bay!!!) and if that incumbent statistic holds up, we'll be planting a Bush back in Texas real soon.

Cheers,
Donna

Face Paint and Fox Trucks (or: How I Made an Ass Out of Myself in Front of John Kerry)

For those of you who don't know, I've been volunteering in Wisconsin for the Kerry/Edwards campaign. A few weeks ago I got to help get ready for a Milwaukee visit from Senator Edwards - as volunteers however, we were kept away from all the real action by Secret Service - we did hear Edwards' son running through the hall of the hotel. Sounded like a nice kid. The main object lesson I took home from this experience is that Democrats, probably due to their all-inclusive, warm and fuzzy nature, are disorganized.

Anyway, this is the story of my making another trip up to Milwaukee, this time to help with a small rally to herald the arrival of Senator Kerry.

I get to the hangar, and it takes a good half hour before the campaign staff knows what's going on and where we should all be - which turned out to be a dank hallway inside the hangar. Apparently, Laura Bush was ALSO arriving last night, prior to Senator Kerry, so her Secret Service wasn't about to let 30 or so strange people have free reign of the hangar.

So we're in the hallway for what seems like forever, and then we finally get moving - metal detection by Secret Service, then we got to help corral the people arriving for the rally (about 200). At this point, I discover that I have neglected to put the storage card back in my digital camera after the party I was at last weekend. But I think, big whup, I won't get to see Kerry anyway I bet.

Then I got roped into painting signs for Friday's rally, which would have been a lot more fun if we didn't have to go outside to do it. Brrrr. Keep in mind for later in the story that this paint did not dry particularly fast. After this, I got to do crowd traffic control to get the ralliers from the hangar out to the holding pen to greet Senator Kerry.

Ah here it is, the Kerry-Edwards plane has landed. Now, I get pulled out of the rally holding pen and was given a large sign with which to direct traveling press to the busses. I'm a little bummed that I don't have a very good view of the Kerry festivities at this point. Then, another campaign staff member grabbed me and asked me to take a videotape (presumably of Kerry shaking hands and waving) over to the Fox satellite truck. Swallowing my distaste for Fox, I say ok sure.

So I'm by myself basically, away from the rally crowd, and about 20 feet away from me, 30 max, I see Senator Kerry smiling and waving from his giant Escalade or whatever car it was. I take my opportunity to really shine, and start waving and jumping up and down like a complete asshole. There was no way he missed me, as I was alone and carrying a huge sign for "TRAVELING PRESS". We make eye contact, and he smiles, waves, and gives me a thumbs up. And of course the whole time my camera is completely useless to me.

The videotape destined for Fox gets shoved at me at this point. But as soon as I try to leave the perimeter of the crowd, Secret Service stops me and I can't go any further. I find the staff member who asked me to direct press traffic, tell him the deal, and he took the tape over for me.

Rally's over, we all walk back into the building and one of the other volunteers turns to me and says "Oh, you got paint all over your face!" WhatwhatWHAT? My insides shrivel as I realize there's no way to know how long it was there, and it was highly likely that I had been jumping up and down like a maniac in front of John Kerry, with paint all over my face. (For those of you wanting to know color, quantity, and location of the paint - red, enough, and on my nose and right cheek)

Then I get home, and see 5 missed calls on my cell phone - remember the Fox videotape? Evidently it never got to where it was supposed to go. Before I can call back, they call me again, I explain what happened and (not in so many words however) that I wasn't about to try and mow down Secret Service to get to a Fox truck.

So, that was my adventure last night, and how I made an ass out of myself in front of Senator John Kerry. But hey, I guess I really don't mind, and here's to Kerry kicking Bush's ass on November 2nd!

Cheers,
Donna

Thank You GOP - Bring on the Semi-Automatic Weapons!!!

For the first time in the history of modern guns, the assault weapons ban is being allowed to expire. (Ford, Carter, Reagan, and Clinton all passed/renewed it)

I hope the first casualty of an assault weapon now is a loved one of a GOP male official who was against renewing the ban. And that the bullet ricochets and gets his penis.

What the Heck is with Alan Keyes? (or Who Would Jesus Vote For?)

Prior to Jack Ryan dropping out of the Senate race in Illinois, I knew faintly who Alan Keyes was, but hadn't paid much attention to him. But when the GOP in Illinois began scrambling for a black candidate to face off against Barack Obama, I got a quick edumacation on the subject of Mr. Keyes.

First, I was puzzled that someone from Maryland would presume to waltz into Illinois and think he can represent this state's interests and needs in the Senate. I didn't like it when Hillary Clinton did it in New York either - and much to my surprise, neither did Alan Keyes!!!

In March 2000, Keyes had denounced Hillary Clinton for campaigning for a United States Senate seat from where she had only recently established residence, "I deeply resent the destruction of federalism represented by Hillary Clinton's willingness go into a state she doesn't even live in and pretend to represent people there, so I certainly wouldn't imitate it."

Hmm. The plot thickens.

So I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when Keyes came out swinging, denouncing Dick Cheney's daughter amongst other gays as "selfish hedonists and claiming that Jesus Christ (who I assume Keyes loves and respects, being a devout Catholic) would never vote for his opponent, Barack Obama. But Keyes stopped shy of saying that Jesus would in fact, vote for Keyes. I imagine Keyes must have spoken to Jesus directly, but since Jesus has Sprint for a cellular carrier, the call dropped before He could let Keyes know that for sure, Alan's got His vote.

Everyone has a right to his/her own beliefs, whether or not they offend me or anyone else. And no one can say Alan Keyes doesn't stand behind his beliefs (although it appears he's free to flip-flop on the political ones). I don't have a problem with any of that.

My problems with Keyes are as follows:

1) Forcing his personal religious beliefs onto the public. This is not okay with me and never has been. Religion is personal. No one has any business trying to force their religion into public policy. Period. End of story. Your religion helps define who you are, but your religion has no part in dictating who I am or what I can do.

2) Taking advantage of this Senate race and the media attention to advance his own agenda. Keyes, while being honest, has to know that his remarks would offend millions of Illinoisans, millions of potential VOTERS. Yet he continues with his remarks (which oh so conveniently garner tons of media coverage), knowing it cannot help him win the race.

Mr. Keyes, you can do whatever you want on your own time and money, but don't dare to assume that you can represent the people of Illinois, because in general we don't much favor gaybashing bigots who presume to know what Jesus wants. I can't speak for everyone, but I can speak for most of the people I know, and even the Illinois GOP is disavowing your existence faster than you can say "Who Would Jesus Vote For?"

To win Illinois, Alan Keyes would have to get God to throw the city of Chicago and its collar counties into Lake Michigan. (a move which a sizable chunk of Central and Southern Illinois might be ok with) I for one cannot wait for this race to be over so we don't have to hear about Keyes' grandstanding anymore (in this particular arena anyway.)

Cheers to a resounding Obama victory,
Donna

Donnie Darko and the Cruel Ministrations of Old Pediatricians

One of my favorite movies of all time is Donnie Darko. If you haven't seen it, go see it. Unless you're the kind of person who lives for Britney Spears and Hillary Duff, in which case I'm not sure why you're reading this blog anyway.

(Incidentally, the director's cut of this film has been released to theaters (well one in Chicago anyway). It's certainly not worse than the original, but I don't think it's better either)

If you have seen Donnie Darko, you know it's the story of a troubled teenage boy who sees an excruciatingly ugly six-foot rabbit in places where you wouldn't expect to see an excruciatingly ugly six-foot rabbit. (And by that I mean anywhere). In the course of events, this rabbit (Frank) gets shot in the eye.

Now come back 30 years back in time with me. I am 3 years old, at a visit to my heretofore-considered-kindly old pediatrician. I assume he meant the following scene as a fun distraction to a small child who has to get a shot in the arm.

(Doctor draws a large pink rabbit on my arm, and carefully gives the rabbit a single dot for an eye)
Doctor: "Now let's shoot the bunny in the eye!!!"

Well you can imagine what shrieks of horror and dismay issued from my tiny lungs at that point.

So although I love Donnie Darko, I'm forced to relive that shot from my wacked-out pediatrician every time I see Frank. But I guess it's a small price to pay for such a great film. And I'm pretty sure Dr.WeirdAssSenseofHumor has passed on and is no longer shooting bunnies. (Actually if he shot any more after the hissy I threw, he must have been deaf as well as weird)

The Importance of Being Right (or What the Hell is Wrong with Being Wrong?)

A lot of things that are wrong in the world today seem to stem from man's basic urge to be right.

Religion: If my religion is true, it must be right and everything else must be wrong
Politics: My party is right so yours must be wrong. (because God forbid people work TOGETHER on anything)
The Chronicles of Riddick: Everyone else is WRONG because I know a movie starring Vin Diesel in silver contact lenses is basically a license to print money.

My way is right, yours is wrong. Or if your way isn't exactly wrong, my way is at least better.

Hey, it feels so darn GOOD to be right, doesn't it? Is that all there is to it? People just can't face the agonizing, soul-cleaving, thumb-screwing PAIN of being wrong?

Wait, I've been wrong before. I've been wrong plenty of times. Heck, I've been wrong twice today already. And if you are reading this and today is a day that ends in "y", chances are you've been wrong too. As has every other person who's drawn breath on this big blue marble.

And we're all still here. We survived being wrong. People survive being wrong and yet they don't learn the lesson that having been wrong once, it's possible to be wrong again, and it's not the end of the world to be wrong again.

Even worse than refusing to be wrong, people will lie or at the very least put a questionable spit-shine on the truth to MAKE themselves be right. If you start barking loud enough that you're RIGHT, no one will question that you could be wrong. Kind of like when Reagan was shot and Alexander Haig started telling anyone who would listen that he was in charge of the White House. When everyone knows full well that the Vice President, the Speaker of the House, and the Secretary of Sandwiches would take over before he could.

I know I am bemoaning a basic construct of human nature that in all likelihood can never be changed. I can't expect people to not have insecurities and to not feel good about being right. I can't expect people to look at the big picture when an individual's personal arena is usually already more than he/she can handle.

But I've already given up my right to be right, don't ask me to give up hope as well.

Good Weekend

I'd planned to do nothing this weekend, but instead ended up quite busy.
 
Saturday, I went to see my new little quasi-nephew, Alex Daniel.  Unlike most newborn babies where the only compliment that honesty permits is: "My, what a healthy-looking baby", Alex D is a cutie.  He slept on my boobies for about 45 minutes - to which I say, I'm glad they're useful for something, as I don't see much purpose for them.  Had lunch with his mom and pop and one of his real aunties, and we checked out an apt for Mom and Pop which they decided to go with - pretty cool joint and excellent price.
 
Then I headed on over to John and Laura's, where I was greeted by John, Laura, and Laura's sis playing ghetto Uno, with John making up definitions for Uno cards.  Then we got yummy Mexican food for dinner, mine was scallops with a mandarin orange chipotle sauce that nearly burnt a hole right through to the back of my head.  But yummy.  We checked out this cool Celtic shop on Armitage, then all these gaymos wanted to go see I, Robot, so I went along for the ride.
 
What took me out of the film was really the first scene, in Will Smith's house, where they pan to a close-up of a JVC stereo.  Ok, let's put aside my suspension of disbelief about the rest of the story, now they want me to believe that a JVC stereo lasted for 30 years.  Nope, sorry, not buying it.  There's also a battle scene between humans and pesky robots where I fully expected Mel Gibson to come riding through calling "THEY MAY TAKE OUR LIVES, BUT THEY'LL NEVER TAKE OUR ROOOBOOOOOOTS!!!!"  Thankfully the battle cries drowned out my hysterical giggling at this scene.  All in all, a movie that should be sliced and served on crackers.  Good special effects though.
 
Then Laura's sis and John helped me out to the car with the hand-me-down desktop PC I have purchased from Johnny.  Once I get it set up I plan to use it to work on my novel, not to play City of Heroes (sorry, John)
 
Sunday I had a relaxing lunch with my p's, and then out to another dinner, this time to celebrate the birthday of a former colleague of mine from Abbott.  We went to Wildfire where I had the tuna steak that had on the side the best invention on earth, wasabi cream sauce.  Yum!
 
I am looking forward to a relatively lowkey week and a ROOFTOP CUBS GAME on Sunday!  whoo hoo!  until later....
 
Cheers,
D

the Daily Grind

Yes, all's been quiet on the creative front for me this week - work's been summarily kicking my ass the past couple of weeks, plus I spent all last weekend AWAKE as a team captain for the American Cancer Society Relay for Life.  Each team keeps at least one team member on the track from 6pm to 6am.  Luckily we had great weather for the event and our screen tent only blew away twice.   There were a lot of inspiring people and stories.  Plus, our team raised $3000 (pretty good for only 6 people!) and the Gurnee Relay as a whole raised $130,000!  whoohooo!
 
Anyway, I'm mostly here just to remind myself of my goals after a couple of weeks of getting submerged in The Man's goals.  John got his pimped-out new machine early, so I expect to be getting his hand-me-downs in a few weeks and start writing in earnest then.
 
Meanwhile, I leave you with a bit of poetry for the record
 
Aging Dichotomy
One day you're frumpy
The next you're a teenile ho
Must suck to be you

Catalyst

I dedicate this post to my good friend John.

It is so easy for people to become entrenched in a routine. Routine is familiar, routine is safe. The status quo is where it's at, ho. (I just felt like rhyming) People love the security of routine - it's generally hard to get someone to try something new, consider a new opinion, embark on a course to change their life. This of course isn't true of everyone, but you have to admit, change is hard.

Like many others, I am sure, routine has just about numbed me to how unhappy I am with what I do to pay the bills. Sure it's a good gig, and sure it DOES pay the bills. But it ain't me and it never has been. And if I hide behind routine, I will head into the clearing at the end of the path, having never tried to do what I really want to do. (I know that John is reading this now thinking "What she really wants to do is anal sex." Not true.)

My friend John related a very sad and disturbing story the other day. It's a story that I'm glad he got off his chest, and even though it's sad, I'm glad to know of it. He said it was really cathartic for him, and I hope it helps him. The story really spoke to me, and with his permission, I am going to use part of it as a basis for my biggest dream (besides winning the lottery) which is to write a novel and become a bona fide published author. I may not succeed, but I at least have to try. Wish me luck.

Cheers,
D

Compromise

It is a fine line between compromise and subjugation of one's self. The weaker your conviction in yourself, the fainter the line is. The stronger your conviction in yourself is, the fainter is your possibility of getting laid on a regular long-term basis.

No Sympathy for the Technophobe Scrooge

You got a virus
I laugh - it's what you deserve
Read your damn email

Desperation Supernova

You think of yourself
As irresistible yet
He does not want you

Condescension Ascendant

Self-important one
Loud trumpets of arrogance
Why won't they fire you?

Teeth-Grinding Irritation Haiku

Fingernails scraping
'Cross the chalkboard of my soul
Some co-workers suck

Conditional John Haiku

John thinks that haiku
About cats is gay but he
Forgot "oochie goo"

Men CAN Multi-task

A frequent complaint I hear from women (among other frequent complaints women may make) is that men cannot multi-task. I believe this is not true, and here's why.

It all boils down to the way men and women think about sex. To put this in a purely nerdy perspective, let's think of this in terms of a personal computer.

When women think about sex, it is much like using an application such as Microsoft Word. They call upon it when they want or need to use it, do what they have to do, then close the application and move on.

When men think about sex, it is a process that runs in the background from the moment you boot up to the moment you shut down. For many men it may even be the entire operating system that holds everything together. This means at any given moment, though a man may appear to be doing only one thing, they are in reality, multi-tasking. They are:

1) thinking about sex
2) doing whatever else is most pressing at the moment

Quite frankly, we are lucky they are able to remain upright at all, much less multi-task to the extent that they do. The constant strain on their resources may also partly explain why they seem incapable of hitting a hole as large as the standard toilet hole when they pee.

So remember this the next time you're about to be unfairly hard on your man - and be grateful that men, unlike dogs, cannot lick their own balls.

Cheers,
D

Unconditional Love Haiku

Warm and furry cat
Lies quietly on the ground
Makes such stinky poop

An Ode to Filkins

Here is a limerick dedicated to the sometimes-object of my affection.

Though Filkins looks much like an elf,
I wanted his hands on my shelf.
But committed is he
So forever I'll be
Forced to love me by myself.

Disclaimer/Background: When I first met this guy, I honestly thought he was gay. (What else am I supposed to think about an elfin man who reads the commie pinko rag The Nation???) I asked to have his love child, and then found out he was straight as the line that George W. Bush's finger makes as it follows along with each word in his favorite tome, The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Since then, I have kept up the charade just to freak out my friend LK (who thinks of him as a brother) with visuals that make her wake in the night screaming. And because Filkins likes the attention from a foxy asian girl such as myself.

Cheers,
D