Just One Thing Do You Know

Youngest came home with a flyer from his teacher asking parents to purchase a book called: What We Are Thankful For... Seems every child in the class writes a few sentences on their life's blessings, a publisher packages it together and peddles it to parents for a mere $18.75.

But really, who can put a pricetag on priceless memories? Not me.

And I didn't even act bitter when realizing my six year-old beat me to a book deal. Instead, I coughed up the money and requested an autographed copy at the release party. Kid said he'd get back to me.

Future bestseller came out this week and I rushed through the pages with breathless anticipation. Page 7; there's my baby!



How's that for gratitude? Dad, friends, family, brother and even the techer.

No mention of the woman who wakes up with him to confront bad dreams. Zero shout-out for a mommy who nurses him through "the coughs" and "boo-boo tummies". Not a lick of appreciation for someone who helps with homework every night and suffers through a 1st grader tackling chapter books line-by-painful-line.

I smiled and told the little sh*t I was proud of him. What else could I say?

I've Been in Your Bathroom Often

I'm all about humor that packs a punch. Caught Borat this weekend and laughed uproariously at just about every scene. Why are people so up in arms? Of course, I looked over at my mother several times and wondered what possessed me to drag her along.

Damn near a nun, she's the last of the ladies, and doesn't quite get testicles-on-moustache hijinks. Nonetheless, she was a trooper and squeaked out at least one giggle before choking a little on her own vomit.

Recently, a *former* funny man pushed the limits of good taste by attacking a few hecklers in the crowd. One of my oldest friends dabbled in the comedic arts and used to have fun with such clowns.

Comic: Where'd you come from tonight?
Heckler: We just got back from f*cking your mother!
Comic: Oh yeah? How long did it take to dig her up?

The good old days.

Yeah. Kramer isn't so funny anymore.

However, this take on his career-killing move is worth a laugh or two. Trust me. As you can clearly tell, I know from funny.

There's a Commotion

The thrust of this article is stem-cell research and whether Florida should fund such research. With its potential to cure so many diseases, funding stem cell research should be a no-brainer - which is why the religious right is against it. In fact, they're against using "the brain" altogether.

Two amendments will likely appear on the '08 ballot - one for state funding and the other against it. I found this part of the article most troubling:

The stem-cell questions typify the kinds of polarizing groups that try to amend
their positions into the state Constitution, said Stephen MacNamara, a
communications professor at Florida State University who worked on the campaign
that defeated a gambling ballot initiative in 1994.

"These people tend to be on the fringes; they feel like they have no alternative but this because the Legislature won't listen to them," he said. "It becomes an all-or-nothing, up-or-down, left-or-right approach [to policymaking], and it's not healthy."

Wrong, Stevie.

These people represent the concerns of thousands and thousands of Floridians who have no other voice. Our representatives in Tallahassee certainly aren't listening. Coming together and demanding change through our Constitution is one of the healthiest responses to such apathy. (Voting their asses out of office is yet another.)

Mid-Life Crisis War Unfolds

File under "Give Peace a Chance" from my future home state, Colorado:

Subdivision Bans Wreath With Peace Sign
Homeowner Defies Board, Faces About $1000 in Fines
By ROBERT WELLER, AP DENVER (Nov. 26) - A homeowners association in southwestern Colorado has threatened to fine a resident $25 a day until she removes a Christmas wreath with a peace sign that some say is an anti-Iraq war protest or a symbol of Satan.

Some residents who have complained have children serving in Iraq, said Bob Kearns, president of the Loma Linda Homeowners Association in Pagosa Springs. He said some residents have also believed it was a symbol of Satan. Three or four residents complained, he said.

"Somebody could put up signs that say drop bombs on Iraq. If you let one go up you have to let them all go up," he said in a telephone interview Sunday.

Lisa Jensen said she wasn't thinking of the war when she hung the wreath. She said, "Peace is way bigger than not being at war. This is a spiritual thing."

Jensen, a past association president, calculates the fines will cost her about $1,000, and doubts they will be able to make her pay. But she said she's not going to take it down until after Christmas.

"Now that it has come to this I feel I can't get bullied," she said. "What if they don't like my Santa Claus."

The association in this 200-home subdivision 270 miles southwest of Denver has sent a letter to her saying that residents were offended by the sign and the board "will not allow signs, flags etc. that can be considered divisive."

The subdivision's rules say no signs, billboards or advertising are permitted without the consent of the architectural control committee.

Kearns ordered the committee to require Jensen to remove the wreath, but members refused after concluding that it was merely a seasonal symbol that didn't say anything. Kearns fired all five committee members.

h/t to Michele

Catch the Crew Rhymin'

The last poem I ever wrote dated 08.19.90:

I don't want to cry and yell
But we all must realize
Now's the time for show and tell
It's time to dry our eyes -

FIGHT BACK! against brutality
Ignorance and fear
Nightmares aren't reality
We need to make that clear -

No longer victims of the truth
We show we know what's right
Give the doubters all our proof
Then they'll join us to fight -

Empathy will tower above
And dark despair shall cease
For God smiles down on those who love
And the world will shine in peace.

Yeah right. What the f*ck was I smoking?

She's Always Down

Remember when I found my old diary?

Oh, the joy your favorite blogger felt when forcing everyone to relive painful childhood issues here, here, and here. I finally stopped with the 80s fixation here.

Kidding!

The fun continues here and here. Great times.

No one loves these memory moments more than Becky. Cause I drag out pictures and hardly have any where I'm alone. Beck is almost always by my side.

Here we are back in high school when she tweezed her eyebrows and I...didn't.

This time, though, it's not my fault. I'm going to blame Chase. He got me thinking about my Poetry Book.

See, I used to fancy myself a modern Sylvia Plath. I finally gave up the verse because, well, because I sucked. However, I did give it a go for several years. Here's a poem I wrote on December 2, 1985.

Hate

A seat in hell awaits you
It is all that you deserve
Burning hot and painful
Eternity you will serve

For all the pain you've cost me
Deceit, tricks and lies
I'll laugh when you are punished
Just look into my eyes

I've cried so many tears
For all that you have done
But when you scream in the seat in hell
You'll know then that I have won

You laughed at me so many times
When tears were on my face
But when time ends and I'm in joy
You'll be in your proper place

I know. Sixteen years old. Goth before goth was cool. No idea to whom I am referring in this forgotten-about gem.

Reagan?

No Sleep 'Till...

Will we ever sell our home? Doesn't look good.

My neighbor has a wacky way of guessing certain things. For example, I called her up one afternoon out of the blue.

"Guess what I did today?" I asked.
"Brazilian wax!" she said.
(Long
pause.)
"How the hell did you know that?" I asked. "I only told my
co-workers and -"
"I had a feeling."

Gave no hint of my waxing adventures and yet she guessed correctly. I would have brushed it off as a fluke but then a few weeks later...

"I might be staying here until June," I said during another of our phone
conversations.
"Yeah, your friend is going to stay out on maternity leave
for the rest of the year, right?" she asked. "I had a feeling."
"Okay. So
next time let me know. I've been worried for weeks."

Last night we were out drinking.

"If we sell the house before June, I'll just get one of those small, furnished
apartments near Superior High School," I said.
"You're not going anywhere
anytime soon," she said. "I have a feeling."

Her feelings are starting to piss me off.

When I'm Makin' Some Love...

Finally, a movement we can all get behind. Underneath. And on top of.

Scream it loud. Scream it proud.

The big show isn't until December 22nd so that leaves plenty of time for one, two or three (un)dress rehearsals. C'mon, they say practice makes perfect. Either with someone else or alone, the time has come to do your part.

I'll be listening.

Licensed to Ill

More crazy conversations from the classroom...

One of my all-time best students, we'll call him Kenny, and I started at
Superior High School at the same time. I had him his freshman and sophomore
year, missed his junior year because I tried out two other local high schools,
and returned this year to see him graduate.

Kenny, my favorite little redneck, is a delight.

"Ms. Robinson, the principal took my confederate flag off my truck!"

"Did he?"

"Yeah, how's that for unfair? Says it offended people. Did you complain Ms. Robinson? Was it you?"

"It was not me," I said, laughing. "You and I have talked about this. I've tried to tell you the confederate flag is a racist symbol that made its comeback a hundred years after the Civil War ended in response to civil rights legislation of the 1960s. It was a message to black Southerners that they would not be considered legitimate members of society. It's a disgrace. But no, Kenny, I didn't complain about your flag."

"Southern pride, Ms. Robinson. It's all about southern pride."

"Let me ask you a question, Kenny."

"Anything."

"Do you like the Dixie Chicks?"

"No way!"

"Why not?"

"They're traitors! They trashed our country and don't care about our soldiers. They are on Saddam's side!"

"The Dixie Chicks said twelve words, Kenny. 'We are ashamed the President of the United States is from Texas.' And for that, they are traitors. For that, they deserve
to have their albums burned and for that, they deserve no career of any kind. I
see. Then explain something to me, please.

"Explain how you can proudly wave the emblem of a movement that sought to remove the South from the United States altogether and Form. Another. Country.

"A movement that sought to enslave human beings.

"A movement that took up arms against an American President and his soldiers.

"Cause if that ain't traitorous, jeez, Kenny, I don't know what is."

(Long pause.)

"C'mon Kenny, explain it to me."

"I don't know, Ms. Robinson. The Dixie Chicks are just retarded."

Don't kid yourself. Kenny is still thinking about what I said.

When You've Got So Much to Say...

On this national day of thanks, I am thankful for:

• Airborne.
• My boys. All three of them.
• Personal lubricants.
• Six more months with some of my favorite people.
• A chance to make America better.
• Friends who help me stay strong.
• Your attention.
• My parents. For so many reasons, but mostly because they babysit my children voluntarily and don't require a safety-deposit first.
• Common ground.
• Monthly visits.
• Your support. And the fact that you listen and counsel without an ounce of judgment. Toward me anyway.
• My brother and sister. Been listening to me vent for years.
• Red velvet cake.
• Co-workers, both past and present, who are so much more than that.
• Healthy and successful pregnancies that will bring new family members to love.
• Kisses and hugs.
• Hugs and kisses.

I Give Thanks

My favorite question this time of year isn't "What are you thankful for?" or even "Turkey with that?" My favorite question, from students, friends and family alike, comes at the end of an exchange like this:

"Okay, guys," I say with a smile, "have a great Thanksgiving!"

"Thanks -

(Long pause. Awkward. Wait for it.)

do Jews celebrate Thanksgiving?"

I Might Disturb

"Damn it."

My co-worker was angry. I adore her and wanted to help.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I just got an email from our assistant principal and she says I can't write a referral on a student who won't stand for the Pledge of Allegiance."

"Oh."

"Isn't that ridiculous? Every student should stand up and we can't do anything about the kid that just sits there showing disrespect to the flag, our soldiers and everyone else. Can you believe that?"

Ever have one of those moments when you and a friend first disagree? I took a deep breath.

"I never make my students stand up. I encourage them to do so, but if they don't, well, that's okay, too."

She just stared at me.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked.

"Nope," I said, smiling meekly.

"Katie!" she said, half-laughing. "They should stand up. It's a sign of respect!"

"I agree," I said. "But forcing students to stand seems to go against what our flag stands for in the first place. I don't think we should make it compulsory. We're going to give kids detention for this?"

"Our forefathers fought for and soldiers today are dying for our freedom..."

"Right," I said. "The freedom not to stand."

"Okay," she said, trying a different approach. "Standing up, at the very least, is a way to show that you love your country and honor and respect what the flag stands for."

"In a way, I agree. And I ask the kids to get up. However, there are other ways to show patriotism, maybe more effective ways even, than standing up for less than a minute. Especially if they don't want to. How is forcing them to stand encouraging love of country? I'm afraid it might even have the opposite effect. What makes this country great is that we allow for dissent. We don't force people to go along with the majority in cases like this. It makes us stronger than other forms of government. Let the kid be an ass. He'll get over it one day and be thankful he lives in a society that allows him to be himself."

My awesome co-worker jokingly told me to f*ck off.

"You still love me though," I said.

"No!" she laughed. "No I don't!"

"I have your number programmed into my cell phone and your email address at home. You're stuck with me."

She just smiled and shook her head.

"How about this? I'll post our conversation on-line tomorrow and let you see all the hate email I receive over this issue. Will that make you feel better?"

"Little bit," she said.

I blew kisses and went back to class.

Done.

Feel the Beat

A dear friend is not a fan of rap music. I don’t blame him, really. He’s a forty-something white man who voted for Reagan. Ice-T must scare the sh*t out of him. (Lyrics are still frightening.) He equates rap with artists like Jay-Z and 50 Cent. While such artists are the face of the genre today, they don’t personify the true talent that began hip-hop music.

Like most white thirty-somethings, rap music came to me in the late Eighties and I fell for the vocal stylings of Run-DMC. Beastie Boys weren’t far behind and I’ve stuck by my three favorite Jewish boys through thick and thin. They started out when they and I were kids and I responded to their tales of rebellion, wasting time, and annoying teachers.

Through the years, their music reflected my own growing awareness about political issues, social justice, and even the importance of saying thank you. (Lyrics here.) In other words, we grew up together. Adrock, MCA, and Mike D are my own personal George/Ringo/John. (Don’t get me started on Paul.) I even have my students interpret lyrics from Bodhisattva Vow when they get into physical altercations as part of an overall lesson in the importance of nonviolence.

We Need Other People In Order To Create
The Circumstances For
The Learning That We're Here To Generate
Situations That Bring Up
Our Deepest Fears
So We Can Work To Release Them Until They're
Cleared
Therefore, It Only Makes Sense
To Thank Our
Enemies Despite Their Intent

Long way from sex rhymes, right? Beasties aside, there is another group that embodies the best of rap music.

Public Enemy.

"Shut Em Down" relates in one song everything that is powerful and positive about my favorite type of music. (Read along here.) PE is able to belt out a tune about the power of boycotting that speaks in a language kids can understand. I've taught Economics and only hope I'm as effective. I know better. But I put this on and my students understand. They get it.

Back in the 90s, I was introduced to a world beyond my safe suburban experience. Without Chuck D’s booming calls for action or Flavor Flav’s antics, I would have never known that 911 is a joke in an inner-city neighborhood. There was also no other way except through headphones to hear about the negative effects of malt liquor, fears of a black planet, or racism in Hollywood. (Lyrics here.) In the words of another great 90s band, “my lily white ass is tickled pink when I listen to the music that makes me think.”

Eminem is a talented man, (cannot be denied), but the promise of hip hop took a break as gangsta rap took over and that early promise has yet to be fulfilled. However, I've taught Language Arts and rap is modern urban poetry. Its message should be felt and understood by everyone.

Especially white forty-somethings who voted for Reagan.

Looks that Kill

Another repeat post. For those just joining us.

I feel sorry for my father. His favorite holiday is here, yet he hardly recognizes it. Thanksgiving has always been Dad’s annual opportunity to enjoy a feast while surrounded by a loving family. However, for him, this tradition has changed in too many ways. Children and grandchildren still arrive early with hugs and kisses and the head of the house enjoys himself in many ways. But in the back of his mind he knows. Dad recognizes that the past is slipping away and the future brings with it uncertainty and fear.

"Tofu turkey!" he shouts when I arrive with my covered dish. "Are you out of your mind?"

Dad’s concern is understandable. He may yell, but really he's just wondering, "Where did I go wrong?" The man has had a life-long relationship with dead animals and is now surrounded by fanatics who are trying to change all that. My mom still serves his stuffed bird, but he can’t help feeling depressed when the rest of us turn away and request a moment of silence. To him, vegetarians are as bad as liberals. And now he’s related to several of both.

"Cheer up, dad," my sister tells him. "This means more meat for you."

He tries to smile and focus on the positive. There is something funny about a boiling turkey neck forcing everyone in the house to breathe through their mouths. However, my father's smile fades while watching children prepare a meal that is foreign to him. He always hopes for the familiar. Instead, a man who would never set foot inside a health-food store will have to accept some healthy yet hard choices. There’s no talking to him about certain things. He ignores assurances that mashed potatoes don’t have to include milk. He shrugs off organic apple pie and warnings that traditional deserts will kill him. We all must get used to the grumpiness. Even my children learn to think happy thoughts when Grandpa holds one of them hostage for old-fashioned gravy.

"Would it kill anyone in this family to buy butter?"

He won’t even get that old standby – cranberry sauce shaped like the can. One of his crazy kids serves fresh cranberries and he’s supposed to act appropriate? I feel for him. I really do.

At the end of the meal, my father swears he's starving and sadly makes his way to the television for beer and bonding. Dad will convince himself this last tradition still stands - women waiting on men watching football.



When my brother passes out bottled water and grandchildren successfully pressure him into watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving, he sighs the sigh of a defeated man.

The rest of us, male and female alike, gather in the kitchen to clean up the feast. One of us tries to convince him that drying dishes can be fun, but Dad won't listen. He just sits quietly and thinks up ways to avoid all of us until January.

Cause You Know You Eat Shellfish

First whatshisname goes from Boston to the Yankees and now this. Scratch another hottie off my stalker-like "to do" list.

Everyone has that famous list of freebies, celebrity-types we're allowed to do because of their universal sex appeal and winning smiles. We indulge in a fling and wife/partner/husband won't divorce or leave permanently. The list is filled with people so untouchable it's a safe agreement for any spouse to make.

"Sure, honey, if Tom Cruise offers you a roll in the hay, take it. No regrets."

Here is my list:

1) Chris Cornell
2) Jack Black
3) Dave Andreychuk
4) Jim Kelly
5) Tim Russert
6) Fareed Zakaria
7) Bradley Whitford
8) Adam Yauch
9) Jamie Rubin
10) ***vacancy***

See, the oh-so-coveted number ten spot used to belong to Jeff Houck until I caught a load of this shocker. I ignored the whole meatloaf thing and tried to look past Sonic concoctions; however, fake cheese on a cracker (complete with rejected-Miami Vice music) is too much. No judgments, still friends. I'm just going to have to look for a new #10.

Any suggestions? Howard Troxler is kind of hot.

I just hope I never see Fareed Zakaria mack on a ham sandwich. Or he's out on his ass as well.

Friends and Family

I like my Insurance Guy. He makes sure I'm covered. (Get it?) He sent me this email:

Probably a good thing to do.

I wanted to pass this on to any licensed driver I know in the state of Florida , this became effective in the state of Florida as of 10/02/2006. You can have 2 emergency contacts attached to your Florida's drivers license.

In other words, if you are in an accident and they run your drivers license, two emergency contacts will pop up so they do not have to search for relatives.

Go here, click on "emergency contacts", put in your drivers license. It will ask for the name, address, and phone number of 2 people you want them to contact if some right-winger hurls into you with his Hummer while drinking Busch beer and sucking down a Big Mac.

Save and your done. Literally.

I hope that you never need this, but just thought it could be useful.

On My Bozack

I've alienated enough people with talk of politics (go Howard Dean!) and animal rights (go tofurkey!) and would like to move on to a less incendiary topic.

The penis.

My sister is giving birth in less than a month - God willing - and doesn't know if she's having a boy or a girl. Like any good mommy, she has researched car seats, strollers and breast pumps. Only the best for my future niece or nephew. About a month ago, she even researched circumcisions.

Seems this early cut is a bit controversial.

As a Jewish mom, for me the bris is a no-brainer. We had a beautiful ceremony, the mohel came into our Boston home and talked about ancient traditions, the promise of children making the world a better place and then I passed out. Don't ask me what happened next.

Lots of Goyim parents choose a mohel to perform the circumcision because he/she is trained in the Art of the Penis and mistakes are rare. They also soak some gauze in Manischewitz wine and let the baby suck on it afterwards. Who can beat that kind of treatment?

Take it from me, wine makes everything just a little bit better.

Nowadays there are men (read: grownup crybabies) who believe circumcision should be discouraged or, better yet, outlawed. They claim to be traumatized by what happened to them as a baby and wish to protect future boys from similar mutilation.

Jewish men are among the most well-adjusted and emotionally healthy of all ethnic backgrounds, so I'm not sure what such bellyachers are suggesting. Not counting Woody Allen, of course, or Richard Lewis or Jack Abramoff. But I digress.

Even if you don't have a religious reason, I recommend a circumcision for your son. Those left in original foreskin are prone to diseases and infections. (Please - you can't get boys to properly clean under their fingernails. Granted, they like their pee-pees more and don't need encouragement to go there. However, cleaning ain't a boy's thing. And you know it. So good luck with that.) Lots of grown men remember seeing a uncircumcised c*ck in the locker room and report a funky smell. Lots of grown women remember seeing a uncircumcised c*ck in the bedroom and report laughing before faking a headache and heading home.

Who wants their son to be that guy?

The Ship is Docking

I've:

• given a verbal commitment to stay in my current position at Superior High School until June. And, as Jim Johnson will attest, I am a woman of my word.
• Reserved round-trip, instead of one-way, tickets for our Colorado trip during Winter Break. Means we're coming back.
• Talked Mom into purchasing Spamalot tickets for shows in January.
• Paid for the boys to play soccer and the season doesn't end until Spring. We all know I don't throw money away. Ever.
• Paid for Hebrew school tuition through the end of the year. (See above explanation. Applies here as well.)

And the Passion Party people know my billing information by heart.

In other words, I'll be in Tampa for another six months. You're stuck with me. Which probably means someone will make us an offer on the house this weekend.

Doesn't matter. We're here, queer, get used to it.

Oh, and Rich? Handle it.

That's How it Goes

Last year, I bellyached about how kosher laws aren't nearly as humane as I had hoped. Landed me on the front page of The Tampa Tribune, thankyouverymuch.

Apparently someone's listening.

Besides God and Jeff Houck, I mean.

An exerpt from this must-read article -

While Jews are a small percent of the world's people and thereby responsible for
only a small part of the problems related to modern intensive livestock
agriculture and other current practices, it is essential, in view of the many
threats to humanity today, that we strive to fulfill our challenge to be a
"light unto the nations," and to work for "tikkun olam," the healing, repair,
and proper transformation of the world.

Eco-kashrut brings ancient law into the modern world and makes it relevant. Reminds us that eating is a holy act. Or should be anyway.

Do My Best to do No Harm

Oh, my, another year's gone by...

Here we are about to celebrate Thanksgiving and I again dare you to watch this newest presentation about your soon-to-be dinner plate. Only a few minutes out of your day -

Do you have the nerve,
the stamina,
the balls to sit through it?

You owe it to yourself to try.

How can anyone who believes in God also believe this is justified? Okay, so you don't believe in a higher power. You must acknowledge that nothing healthy can come from this type of suffering. Think about tumors and ulcers encased within white and dark meat. Yummy.

I'm just asking you to consider these images before you pop a drumstick into your mouth. Come on, do you really believe this type of cruelty is acceptable? After a meal of stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, squash, green beans, maybe a salad and some rolls - will you really have room for anything else? Have a slice of pumpkin pie instead. Whipped cream on me.

Yummy indeed.

Cause Your Crystal Ball Ain't So Crystal Clear

Howard Dean is my hero. I adore the man and everything (you heard me) he stands for - mostly because I stand for it all too - stem cell research, a higher minimum wage, the right to choose, middle class tax fairness and a way out of Iraq.

But mostly I adore Howard Dean because his 50 State Strategy made most Republicans see red. In their dreams.

"So long, suckers!"

Locally, Jim and his crew are already looking to 2008. I was thinking break-time - just to gain some perspective and recharge my batteries. Then my friend Jenn sent me this site along with the idea that maybe I could get "new stickers for 'the girls'!"

How many days left? What am I waiting for...it's on.

Never Rock the Mike with the Pantyhose

Sometimes people ask why I drive forty-five minutes from Wesley Chapel to the Carrollwood area just to teach at Superior High School. It has a lot to do with the women in my department. They know me. And love me. And I love them.

And they gave me the most perfect birthday card ever.

Not dirty. But about sex. So close enough.



Open it up. Even better.



That's all I needed to hear. This goes for all month, right?

I'm Gettin' Rope, Y'all

I don't really *do* birthday cards. They're too sentimental and I'd rather send an email or call. My messages aren't as eloquent as Hallmark's, but at least they're mine.

I love dirty cards, though. Funny ones, too. This year I got one of each and could not be happier. This is the funny one:



Inside it says -

I'll Be Glad if it Helps Anyone Else Out, Too

I had no idea seatbelts could malfunction and not work properly. No secret my children believe they are still in tethered car seats because 1) they continue to fit in them and 2) mommy is too cheap to buy new ones that only serve as booster seats.

Now there's an even better, yet heartbreaking, reason to keep them strapped in for years to come.

h/t to Jennifer

"Elvis Shaved His Head When He Went to the Army"

This is an email I sent out to friends and family. I thought I'd share it with everyone out there to whom it applies:

To the special men and women in my life who have served our country - thank you.
Veteran's Day is an excellent opportunity to reach out and praise those who have
protected and defended my right to shit all over the President of the United
States.

This is also an excellent opportunity to shame those of you who
forgot to wish me a happy birthday yesterday.

No. Seriously. Thank *you*.

The Message is Sent

"I don't belong to you and you don't belong to me."

Whenever I feel sad about the results here in Florida regarding Election Day, I must remember that, as a Democrat, overall the day was a resounding success.

This is a helpful reminder. Enjoy.

h/t to Quaker

My Zodiac Sign is Scorpio

This is a repeat post only slightly changed. For your enjoyment or irritation. Whichever you'd prefer.

November 10, 1969--9:31am--Dunmore, Pennsylvania

My mother passed out within seconds because pain medication makes her "feel funny". Doctors used forceps to yank me out of there. Mom blames my stubborn streak and big head. I just wanted to avoid the Nixon administration.



Everyone “ooh'd” and “ahh'd” even though, let's face it, I was a funny lookin' kid. Nana and Aunt Mimi, both nurses, were available to beam. Bio Dad was off in Germany getting drunk.

Within hours, hospital administration carried me back into my mom's room with all the necessary equipment a newborn needed back in the Dark Ages. They must have looked ridiculous.

“Noreen, we have a problem,” they said. “Catherine is disturbing other infants in the nursery. While I realize you need peace and quiet, so does everyone else and frankly, we’re sick of the complaints. Catherine is going to sleep in here from now on and we use that term loosely. Good luck - she's all yours."



Don't let that cherubic face fool you.

Although once in my mother's arms, I stopped fussing immediately - content with constant attention. This theme would repeat itself in various ways for the rest of my life.

Here's to thirty-seven years of keeping it real.

Keep It On and On

Despite the end result, I had a great time at Jim Davis' victory party Tuesday night. Reconnected with old friends (who wish I'd stop telling people how long we've known each other) Suzanne and Trisha. They've been with Jim since the beginning and remember me when my hair grew out instead of down.

The Jim Davis Crew has grown since 1988, yet I'm always heartened to see so many people from back in the day still rallying behind our man. Such loyalty says a lot about Jim and the people with whom he surrounds himself.

Carol even flew in from Jersey to reconnect and show her support.

I've had a great time getting to know his most current devotees over the past eighteen months: Kurt, Matt, Tait, Elizabeth, Christine, and Reggie (in addition to so many others). You all are a terrific and talented group of professionals who will benefit any campaign with which you choose to allign yourselves.

Thanks to those who've been calling and cheering me up. You are the best. I'm optimistic about a new Democratic era in Washington and hope to work toward more changes set for 2008.

Flowin' Prose

I wrote a piece for The Tampa Tribune and it ran today. Yes, I am a bit gloomy, but nothing that affection, attention and getting published can't fix.

A familiar piece, but click here to read it again on the Trib's site.

They made one mistake. For those of you who want to send mad love letters or even an inappropriate birthday card on Friday - I no longer teach at Wharton High School.

Just a Test

Like I said last night, the following post is in response to a lost bet. Enjoy:

First of all, congratulations to Charlie Crist for winning the election and getting the opportunity to serve as Governor of the great state of Florida.

How can a progressive put a positive spin on Governor-Elect Crist? I've been tossing and turning and came up with this: Charlie Crist isn't as bad as Jeb.

There. That should do it.

Want more?

Crist is a moderate Republican and can sometimes be counted on to make sense. The Terri Schiavo fiasco would never have happened if he were governor. Regarding abortion rights, Charlie Crist wants to focus on changing minds instead of laws. That's good news to most of us who want Roe v. Wade upheld as the law of the land.

Crist also supports restoring voting rights for felons and opposes off-shore oil drilling.

Governor Crist won't ignore progressives the way Jeb has for the past eight years. He can't, because Republicans aren't nearly as strong as they used to be. Hopefully this election-year smackdown will temper neocons and lead to a spirit of bipartisanship and cooperation.

There are those on my side of the aisle that warned of a governor who will go along with whatever a right-wing legislature throws his way. I believe Charlie Crist to be open to the progressive message, if said message is supported by the citizens of Florida. That presents a challenge and we must rise to the occasion. For the first time in eight years, we will have a governor who is open to ideas beyond his own. Let's help him focus on programs and solutions that involve us all.

(I had help seeing the positive side of Charlie Crist. He can't be all bad with you on his side. Thank you.)

I Don't Know

Jim Johnson, of The State of Sunshine fame, and I made a bet and the loser had to post congratulations to the Other Guy who would soon become governor.

Right. Doesn't make much sense to me either at this hour. However, I'm a woman of my word so I'll post my obligatory letter tomorrow morning.

About five hours from now. And I thought today was a long day.

Hold It Now - It's My Ride

Need another reason not to vote for Charlie Crist? He snubbed his good friend George W. because our POTUS STUPIDUS can't get past a 30-something approval rating. First Crist said he'd introduce Big Man and then changed his mind and went to Palm Beach instead.

Crist's opponent, Democratic Rep. Jim Davis, noted Crist's absence.
"Now that the president is so unpopular, Charlie refuses to stand side by side with him," Davis said. "It says when the going gets tough, Charlie won't stand up."

Let's put this Republican nastiness behind us once and for all. From the Davis campaign:

ELECTION NIGHT PARTY
at the
Grand Hyatt Tampa Bay
7700 Courtney Campbell Causeway
Tampa, FL 33607

Tuesday, November 7th, 2006
8:00 pm

Please stop by and enjoy what we have all worked so hard for –
Victory for Jim Davis and Daryl Jones!!!

Waking Up Before I Get to Sleep

Seems Hillsborough County Circuit Judge Barbara Fleischer won't sentence Bolin until sometime next year - possibly February.

Doesn't seem fair to give him so much time to appeal, delay, and fight to see another tomorrow. And is he making money off a confession from 1991?

So not fair. Twenty years ago yesterday, people. Twenty years.

No Sleep 'Til -

So many reasons why I'm up at all hours.

Took a break from campaign calls yesterday to visit with some Dade City Democrats and listen to Michael Cox,



Stephen Gorham,



and, the man of the hour, Daryl Jones



talk about a better day for all Floridians. Evenings are beautiful this time of year when an autumn breeze blows through my hair and my children are playing on the courthouse lawn with local kids and the bugs take a five minute break from sucking me dry.

Good times.

How many hours are left?

Sabotage

A new poll shows Crist and Davis are neck-n-neck. I'm predicting undecideds will lean toward Jim and tomorrow night we will be celebrating a Davis/Jones victory.

Don't forget to vote!

Pulling Their Peters

With just a few hours left until Election Day, seems Carl Zimmermann's opponent Peter Nehr is sending out campaign literature that's less than truthful (read: packed with lies). Check it:



This flier indicates that Jeb, Charlie and Bilirakis are supporting Nehr's candidacy, yet I can't find any evidence such support exists. Ken Peluso, lumped in with "Others", doesn't support him at all.

And Nehr's site welcomes Republicans and promises to represent only their interests. Well. At least he's not lying about that.

Things on My Mind

Just a few more days and it's all over.

Floridians can send a message to Washington and Tallahassee that it is time
to change course and meet our challenges in a bipartisan effort.

Or just begun. Which will it be?

Check Your Head

Early voting ended today. Election Day is Tuesday, November 7th and the polls are open from 7am-7pm.

I did my part. Make sure you do yours!

Put Your Sewer Boots On

"When human beings deny who they are - problems naturally arise." - Catherine Durkin Robinson

I'm not always right. Although it certainly appears that way. And Colorado Springs is gonna be my home, one of these days. Can hardly wait.

h/t to Addison

Rushing Around Town

Tomorrow, Saturday 9am-5pm, is your last chance to VOTE EARLY. If you're not sure who to vote for, lend me your ear.

Early Voting Locations

East Pasco Government Center
14236 6th St
Dade City, FL 33523

West Pasco Government Center
7530 Little Rd, Suite 110
New Port Richey , FL 34654

David "Hap" Clark Professional Center
4111 Land O' Lakes Blvd , Room 105
Land O' Lakes, FL 34639

Village Market of Wesley Chapel
5325 Village Market
Wesley Chapel , FL 33543

Hudson Regional Library
8012 Library Road
Hudson , FL 34667

South Holiday Branch Library
4649 Mile Stretch Drive
Holiday , FL 34690

New River Branch Library
34043 S.R. 54
Zephyrhills , FL 33543

My Mind is Spinning

House is not selling.

Temporary position with the school district ends in the middle of December. (Took a temp job back in July because the house was supposed to sell by October at the latest, right? Of course, right.)

In addition to single parenting, campaign crap, pressures and hate mail - now I have to look for a job. In Tampa. More than likely, I'm gonna try for something outside education. Just for kicks and giggles because we all know if a prospective employer does a google search, I'm screwed.

Does anyone need a secretary? I know! How about a job with the military?

What Comes Around

(This is a repeat post - slightly modified. Today, Stephanie's murderer was found guilty. Friday or Monday, a judge will decide the penalty. I hope he gets the death penalty. How long before we execute him? I hope not another twenty years.)

Cathy's Best Friend

In 1984, Cathy and I entered Chamberlain High School ready to take on the world.



Less than four years later, we left Chamberlain, along with most other students, forever changed.

Typical experiences were only part of it. We liked boys who didn’t like us back, experimented with our hair, learned to drive, and went from Madonna to Motley Crue in the blink of an eye. Our home lives were normal in that we both had divorced parents and felt horribly misunderstood.

Other experiences weren’t so typical.

Stephanie was Cathy’s best friend and their friendship made life easier for both of them. They did everything together. Stephanie’s outlook and charm filled the gap between disaffected youth and disapproving parents and Cathy cherished her above all other friends.

Senior year, Stephanie drove Cathy home after school one day. This time, Stephanie couldn’t stay, she had to stop at work before heading back to chorus practice. Stephanie never made it back. She was abducted in the Carrollwood parking lot between her car and the drugstore where she worked.

Days followed where everyone felt confused and scared. Where did she go? Stephanie wasn’t the type to run away. We attended vigils and Cathy spent weeks passing out fliers and hoping for the best. Tragically, Stephanie’s body was found, beaten to death, a month after her disappearance.

This week Oscar Ray Bolin is on trial for the third time for Stephanie’s murder. Cathy took the stand once more to describe that sad time in her life for another courtroom of strangers. After almost twenty years, Cathy was forced to remember how we went from carefree teenagers to frightened young girls and faced the man accused of causing such fear and panic.

Many people have been affected by Bolin’s violent acts committed so long ago. But he’s not the reason Stephanie’s loved ones are still grieving. Their reaction to loss was because they so loved a red-haired girl, her infectious laugh and the way she took care of her friends. Especially Cathy.

Like most girls from our high school class, Cathy and I grew into women



- a blessing stolen from Stephanie. We know we’re the lucky ones. You can see that we know it, too. Just look behind our smiles.

Due Time

John Kerry told the truth. Our pathetic POTUS tried to jump all over it. Kerry slapped him down.

I did a dance. Democrats are growing some balls and fighting back!

Not so much.

Damn.

Finger Lickin' Good

Rally with Senator Daryl Jones this Sunday at 5pm at the Historic Dade City Courthouse.
37918 Meridian Avenue
Dade City, Florida 33525
Email Elizabeth if you plan to show up and hit on me.

Typical Republican shenanigans. 6 more days, peeps! Let's wipe those smug grins off their faces.

Wonder joints for all my friends!

h/t to John

Traces of a Smile

Monday morning, on the way to school, my oldest said,

"Mommy, we forgot to buy a pumpkin this weekend!"

I know. Mom of the Year. After school, I drove through New Tampa, Wesley Chapel, Zephyrhills, and Land O' Lakes and couldn't find a single godd*mn pumpkin. As I'm driving home and thinking about how I still had to clean the front of my house, kill a giant ant pile and move all kinds of lawn equipment from the back porch inside the garage - chores put off until the last possible moment - it occurred to me that jumping off the nearest cliff might be a plan.

I approached my house and noticed sister-in-law extraordinaire cleaning the front of my house. Brother was busting his ass moving all aforementioned equipment into the garage. In town for a visit, they also cleaned every window and the ant pile is toast.

This act of kindness allowed me to enjoy Halloween without a care in the world. My little Darth Vader and Skeleton reaped the benefits of a stress-free mommy.



And my mom came up clutch with a pumpkin before we went out trick-or-treating. Sister-in-law outdid herself by whipping up a scary carving in no time flat.

And she didn't even turn the knife on my dad, who stood by with the constant opinions, proving she's a keeper.

Thanks to my family, the holiday was a complete success. Now if only I could stop eating Butterfingers.