The ugliest plate in the world

This would look SO AWESOME in my china cabinet. Maybe someone will get it for me for Christmas...(oh pleez oh pleez oh pleez oh pleez)

New tree!

I was looking for a pink Christmas tree when I found this one and was completely dazzled. It looks so tasteful in my living room.

Driving is fun when you have headroom

I got a pretty new car. Daniel Pinkwater talked me into it. Not only does my head not hit the ceiling, the clearance is a good 10 inches. Also, it's yellow. Woot.

Goodnight, Odetta

Odetta died yesterday. I grew up hearing her music, and I was lucky enough to see her perform live in Ashland, Oregon many years ago. 

I love her version of this song. 

Smoking everywhere, continued

I forgot to mention I finally ordered the e-cigarette, and it arrived just in time for me to show it off as a party trick at the beach house over Thanksgiving. It's fun and hilarious.

It came with some nicotine cartridges, but so far I've only used the ones without nicotine. It's not EXACTLY the same as really smoking a cigarette--while the mysterious vapor does produce an odd prickly sensation in your mouth that does feel like a real cigarette, you have to take longer and slower drags to get the full looks-like-smoke-coming-out-of-your-mouth effect.  Once you get the hang of it, though, you can even blow smoke rings. The LED end of the thing looks astonishingly like a real lit cigarette, except that it doesn't produce smoke. Also, it weighs more than you'd think--a bit more than a double-A battery, I'd say.

All of my smoking relatives were entranced and intrigued. They've all tried to quit a million times, so naturally they are thinking hard about the cost of the e-cigarette compared to an actual cigarette habit. If the economy weren't so wretched, and if I hadn't decided to knit everyone's presents this year, I would definitely consider giving the e-cigarette to all of them for Christmas.

My sister is the only one who seemed worried about what is actually IN the e-cigarette vapor. She says she read online somewhere that nobody's really vetted it and nobody really knows if it's safe. I figure it's got to be better than actual tobacco smoke, but I'm betting it isn't totally innocuous. The second evening, I took a big drag and had a horrible coughing fit. It turned out I was just beginning to get a very bad cold, but still.

ANYWAY. Do I recommend this thing? Absolutely. I can't wait to use it in a bar.

"Peter Pan" is a great book

Brad and Angelina's two-year-old Shiloh thinks so, too, apparently. Brad tells Oprah she insists on being called "John," which is the name of one of Wendy's brothers. Except when she answers to "Peter."

When she was born, my Teutonic father said, with a look of grave consternation, "I couldn't believe it when I heard that name! I thought, Shiloh Pitt...Pile o' Shit!"

When I couldn't stop laughing, his frown deepened and he scolded, "It's not funny! That is a TERRIBLE name for a child!" 

What's funnier is that none of the big ol' celebrity bloggers seem to have noticed this. Maybe it's one of those goofy "sounds-like" thingies that only foreigners notice. If so, whoops. Sorry for pointing it out.

I look young like the sunrise

I forgot to mention I got carded at the liquor store on Friday. Had to go out to the car for my ID and everything.

What we didn't mention

The election that keeps on giving

Have we all choked up and wept enough? No, I don't think we have.

Nader vs. Smith on Fox News

Jesus God. Of all the incredible things this election has wrought, finding myself siding with FOX NEWS has got to be the weirdest.

Shut up, Ralph, you washed-up, racist, self-important shitbag.

Barack Obama is President of the United States of America

In the midst of all the tearful glee last night, my daddy made a very short speech in his delightful German accent:

"When you wake up tomorrow and walk outside, the sun will be shining a little bit brighter."

He's always said that's what it was like when the Americans came and the war was over. 

He was right! The world, when viewed with optimism and hope, can be almost unbearably bright.

Not eloquent

Who in the hell says "blah, blah, blah" during a campaign speech? John McCain, that's who.

He's also still making that awful HEHNGNN sound, apparently.

Elect the black guy, already

I love David Alan Grier. Yay for Chocolate News.

The real America

John Stewart was mad as a hornet last night on The Daily Show.

I'm mad, too. I am heartily sick of the right-wing saying that because I'm a liberal, I don't love my country.

I do love my country. That doesn't mean I can't get pissed off at it and at the asshats who are currently running it.

Michelle Bachmann

Regular readers of Wonkette are familiar with lunatic Representative Michelle Bachmann (R-Minnesota). She's an Evangelical who doesn't believe in evolution or global warming. She's been a foster mom to more than 20 teenage girls (nope not kidding). She's hot for God and the president. She's very pretty, and she has the spookiest case of Crazy Eyes you've ever seen.

Now everyone else is familiar with her, too, because of her recent appearance on Hardball with Chris Matthews, talking about Barack Obama: "I'm very concerned that he may have anti- American views."

Then she wrote an essay for Politico, in which she said, "I never questioned Barack Obama’s patriotism". Uh, yeah you did.

And now she's probably going to lose her congressional seat to a Democrat in the election, ha ha ha.

40 laid off at local tech company as execs arrested

SEATTLE (AP) - Two former software executives grossly overstated their company's revenue to attract more than $50 million in private investment, prosecutors said Wednesday, adding that the fraud was uncovered late last month when a worker found a set of cooked financial books as she was cleaning out a desk.

Now, really, what sort of idiots keep their cooked books lying around the office?

Jeez. Some people don't deserve investors.

Best spam subject line ever

With a big friend in underwear you can go far, you can be a bright and shining star.

(I didn't click the link in the body of the message, but you go right ahead: Your tool will be so well designed like from Dolce & Gabbana.)

Not that I need them

My sister has always said the phone and the computer should have a breathalyzer attached. Google has just come up with something close, Mail Goggles:

When you enable Mail Goggles, it will check that you're really sure you want to send that late night Friday email. And what better way to check than by making you solve a few simple math problems after you click send to verify you're in the right state of mind?

Isn't that great?

Thanks, Tara!

The one good thing about the bailout

Yes, there is one! I know, I can't believe it either, hardly.

The bailout was tacked on to an existing bill to get it passed quickly, and that bill happened to be one that Patrick Kennedy wrote in the 1990s. It's a mental health parity bill. That means that if your employer provides health insurance, they have to cover mental illness the way they would any other illness, beginning in 2010. Same copayments, same prescription drug coverage, same limits on numbers of visits per year and inpatient treatment.

This is getting virtually no press coverage, so I'm having trouble convincing myself it's true. As a crazy person, though, I'm thrilled. 

The first Cognitive Performance Snack Food for Gamers

My first reaction was that this is the Dumbest. Thing. Ever.

Because yeah, what you need while your ass is parked in a chair for days on end is PERFORMANCE FOOD. Because you are burning so many calories that you will EPICALLY PHAIL without the proper scientific sustenance.

But then I stayed up for three days doing a World of Warcraft raid, and it is now clear that this product is poised to tap a hitherto unnoticed, underserved, and potentially insanely lucrative market. Check it out:

Gamer Grub comes in what looks sort of like a Campbell's Soup at Hand container, in four flavors: Action Pizza, Racing Wasabi, Strategy Chocolate, and Sports PB&J. The idea seems to be that you just pour some engineered gamer pellets down your throat without having to interrupt your battleground or raid to actually, you know, eat. So this is like astronaut food, right? Right? I'm still wondering why they missed the obvious flavor, Cheetos.

Here's what the company says about the product:

BOOST YOUR BRAIN with Gamer Grub, the first performance snack formulated especially for gamers.

•Great tasting flavors
•Ergonomic packaging
•No keyboard crumbs
•No greasy fingers

Think fast and win more with Gamer Grub.

Gamer Grub is a great tasting snack that boosts your core gaming systems, such as visual input, cognitive processing, signal transmission and muscle reflexes for maximum gaming performance.

EAT WELL AND PROSPER.

And here's what the company says about the Company:

Biosilo Foods is a young, progressive company that is set out to transform the food and beverage industry. With revolutionary innovation as the prime directive, Biosilo Foods is building a portfolio of new food and beverage categories.

Yeah. And Biosilo Foods is in desperate need of an ad copy editor.

Way back in the 1990s, my dad couldn't watch "Seinfeld" because, he said, George was just too embarrassing. I know exactly what he meant.

But then, if some up-and-coming whippersnapper could talk the board into adding these to the product line, I might think they're on to something and invest.

We did not evolve.

I can prove it. I am on exactly the same level as these monkeys.



No, wait. The monkeys are MORE advanced than we:

Unlike us, monkeys that are heavy drinkers make better leaders, respected by other monkeys.

Second City Palin. But not really.

It's actually Harry Shearer's wife. But the only way this could be more SCTV would be if Catherine O'Hara or Andrea Martin were doing it.

If the candidates were trains

Thanks, Tara!

Okay, the debate? Whatevs. I knew Palin wouldn't tank as badly as I wanted her to, and I knew Biden wouldn't attack her as much as I wanted him to.

But I know one thing. I don't want a president who winks at me.

Snickers® Salad

Check out this recipe I just found on Cooks.com:

SNICKERS® BAR SALAD

1 lg. instant vanilla pudding
8 to 12 oz. Cool hip (sic)
4 to 5 SNICKERS® bars
5 to 6 diced apples
3 to 4 sliced bananas

Use (sic) 1 1/2 cups milk to pudding and mix until creamy. Add Cool Whip. Add SNICKERS® (cut in pieces). Add fruit to mixture. Serves 8-12.

You just know they'd dig this in Wasilla, AK. If it weren't so much trouble to dice an apple, I would totally make an extra trip to the store so I could serve it at the debate party tonight.

What the...wait, what?

Now McCain is actually using "life isn't fair" as a campaign talking point?

I've been neglecting this blog because I feel overwhelmed by the vast amount of hilarious stuff that's happening every day--no, every HOUR--during this campaign. This isn't helping.

The end of the world

From Fox News: "President Bush will address the nation Wednesday at 9 p.m. ET about the need to prevent an economic crisis and his administration's $700 billion proposed bailout plan, which his spokeswoman says will prevent a 'calamity' on Wall Street."

So what's the plan if he declares this crisis an economic emergency and suspends the Consitution? And/or elections?

I knew I shouldn't have procrastinated about buying that gun and year's worth of freeze-dried food.

Sometimes

Sometimes you get an earworm. Like I couldn't get "Handlebars" out of my head. So Tim thoughtfully sent me this. 

Thanks, Tim. Really.

Handlebars

My new favorite song.

Thanks, Fraly!

Red light, green light

Thanks, Tim!

The ten types of Republicans

Thanks, Fraly!

And hey, while we're doing lists of ten, let's enjoy this one for another couple of months:

Better than do-overs!

I could have been at the beginning of this video when I was twelve, playing Monopoly with my sister (uh, I'd be the guy on the left). I'm just glad to know there's a name for it.

I don't even LIKE musical theater

But I like a good parody as much as the next person. Especially one like this:

Release the hounds!!!

The list of Sarah Palin scandals and potential scandals--oh, and the outright LIES she is telling--is growing each day. And each day, it seems, the polls creep up a little for McCain and down a smidgen for Obama. And I just got up after an hour of lying in bed trying to fall asleep to Mike Malloy on Air America.

Even after a sleeping pill, I lay there getting all wound up listening to Mike, who is smart and mad as hell and all, but whom I wouldn't want to sit next to at a dinner party, because OMG he's so goddammned NEGATIVE. I mean, I agree with his politics, but his delivery makes me want to sidle off unobserved until I can dash out the door and sprint for the nearest bar.

So after an hour of hearing him shout about how Obama has already lost the election through his own refusal to launch a direct and vicious series of attacks--yes, ATTACKS!--upon his opponents, I gave up and got out of bed.

I myself am totally on board with this "Obama must do attack ads, NOW!" thing. Scary backgrounds, scary faces (you can do a lot of subtle Photoshop to make someone look like themselves but more, well, like an actual monster) and scary music. And then you do something like this:

• Sarah says she said no thanks to the bridge to nowhere - LIE
• McCain & Palin say she sold Alaska's private luxury jet for a profit on eBay - LIE
  
• Palin says Obama has authored no significant legislation - LIE
  
• McCain camp says Obama and Biden voted in favor of the bridge to nowhere - LIE
  

Okay, that sucks. But with a little effort, some suggestions from friends, and some money, we oughta be able to come up with something. We need to form a 527 group. I already know a couple who knows filmmaking, a guy who can do voiceover, and a guy who can write some seriously Rovian attacks on the Repubs.

See, there are only 2 months left. Rove is brilliantly stomping all over the Dems, again. I submit to you that the time for taking the high road is over. Obama has taken it up to now, but it's time for him to get spitting (but elegantly) mad, and call out these people for who they are: CORRUPT, CHEATING LIARS. If he keeps playing nice, he isn't going to win anyone new. He's already won the votes of everyone who cares about the issues, who is actively interested and involved. Now he needs to go for the undecideds and the independents and, yes, the uninvolved, the uninformed, and even the uninterested.

If he makes some serious, ruthless attacks on McCain, and actually gets angry and makes his points simple, clear, and lowbrow...well. He won't LOSE any of his followers (we've been begging him to get pissed off and let fly some snark for weeks now), but it's possible he will gain some by attracting the attention of people who get their news in soundbites and don't go out of their way to check facts. (If they fact-checked Obama's ads, it should go without saying, they'd find them accurate. I meant that if they don't bother to check to see if what they're hearing is true, they probably simply haven't heard the other side, and might have an epiphany when they do. Or at least some cognitive dissonance, which could prove useful.)

In the meantime, I recommend reading this look at the current state of the race from Wonkette. It's cheered and calmed me, and now I'm going to sleep.

My heart goes pitty-pat

I admit Joe Biden has made me roll my eyes more than once. He has said dumb stuff off the cuff.

But I have never disagreed with him politically. And now he makes me want to jump up and cheer:



"Give 'em hell, Joe," indeed!

Oh, great. Now I have to feel guilty when I say "Paultard"

Because this is the sort of letter that makes my heart sing.

I don't suppose it would exonerate me if I said I had strong Libertarian leanings when I was in college. Except for the part where they don't think the gummint should help anyone.

Or maybe she was chosen on purpose by the neocons, because McCain is going to die at any moment, and then they will have a perfect, evil puppet to play with. Except she's pretty terrifying all on her own.

But there's no way the Republicans are going to win the White House. Right?

Where do I begin?

I keep meaning to post about Sarah Palin, but the thought of trying to cover everything that is wrong with this woman's veep nomination is just too exhausting.

This is the stupidest choice by a Republican since Harriet Miers.

Or wait. Is it? Maybe it's not stupid at all, and maybe it's the exact same tactic. Compared to Miers, Samuel Alito looked not only okay but brilliant, and was practically handed his position on the Supreme Court by the Democrats.

So I predict Palin will back out within a week to "concentrate on her family" or "focus on her job as governor of Alaska" or what-the-hell-ever, and then everyone will be just THRILLED when McCain chooses Romney or Lieberman or Huckabee to be his REAL running mate.

Oh and

Also? I love the look on Rachel Maddows's face every time Pat Buchanan speaks. I don't think you can fake that expression of "WTF? Are you serious? Wait, what the hell are you even talking about?"

DNC

I've been having a great time watching the Democratic National Convention. The speeches are spot-on, and watching history being made as Obama was officially nominated was a thrill.

My favorite thing so far, though, has been watching Chris Matthews's hair.

Ole!

I've been mourning my favorite summer drink, Zima, for several months now, since it appears to have disappeared from Seattle grocery store shelves.

But look what I found at Safeway yesterday:

I read a press release about this product going national back in January, but I have to say, I wasn't expecting to find it without a determined search of Latino grocery stores. Which, considering how I procrastinate, would probably happen in about 2015.

ANYWAY! Of course I had to buy it. I suspected I'd like it--I lurves me some Clamato. I'm not a huge beer drinker, but, having spent my 19th summer in Germany, I learned to like beer mixed with all sorts of things--lemonade, 7-Up, or ginger ale (aka a "Shanty" in various parts of the US), raspberry syrup, Cassis, strawberry or peach puree (any fruit puree, really), and even a seasonal specialty in some tiny town (I forget which): wild blueberries. Years later, I discovered and embraced the Beer Margarita.

So I was ready for this stuff. And it's awesome. It's already got lime and salt in it, and over ice, with a hefty dash of Habanero Tabasco, it's an unbelievably refreshing summer drink. And not sweet! (Did I mention that when I'm on the wagon, I frequently drink V8 and club soda with lime? It's kind of like a fizzy virgin Bloody Mary.)

(As an aside to everyone who is gagging, not just about the Chelada thing but about all beer cocktails...well. Beer mixed with a soft drink is like steak tartare: everyone is initally disgusted at the very idea, but those who are brave enough to try it are amazed. Also, it's an awesome way to make cheap beer more palatable. Which may be why it was so popular among my teenage relatives and friends that summer in Germany.)

Serious games

If you're like me, you're not all that into the Olympics, but you invariably find yourself watching at some point during the Games, simply because you spend time with other people, and other people watch them.

When this happens, I am torn between

1) making insufferably snarky comments through the entire thing, thereby annoying and alienating the people (usually beloved family members) who are watching and enjoying the Olympics with no irony at all, and

2) succumbing to my innate sentimentality and overly-empathetic nature and getting all weepy and shit (my stepmother is so dear to me and has such luridly corny taste that she has seen me, many times, reduced to tears by syndicated reruns of "Touched By An Angel".)

Slate.com to the rescue. Their intrepid staff has provided us with The Sap-O-Meter, "a list of 33 syrupy words that NBC chronically overused" in its past coverage of the Games.

I will list them here:

adversity, battled, cancer, challenges, courage, cry, death, dedication, determination, dream, emotion, glory, golden, hardship, heart, hero, inspiration, inspire, journey, magic, memory, miracle, mom, mother, Olympic-sized, overcome, passion, proud, sacrifice, spirit, tears, tragedy, triumph

This is excellent for when you need to excuse any cynical and snarky remarks you may utter ("Look, a smart, sassy, liberal website says it's ok to laugh at how sappy the coverage is!"), and also as a sort of smelling salts you can use on yourself to stop in its tracks any twinge of teary sap bubbling up from your solar plexus.

However! Slate.com has overlooked the true potential of these 33 words as uttered during the 2008 Summer Games.

Dear Readers: Let the Olympic Drinking Games begin!

At any point during coverage of the Olympics:

When anyone says any word on the Sap-o-Meter list: drink 1.

When anyone says any of the following: faith, heartbreak, triumph of the will: drink 2.

If any athlete says a curse word, even if you can only lip-read it: drink 1 (if you can hear it loud and clear, drink 3).

For any tears of disappointment, automatically drink 1, unless it's a figure skater or a gymnast, in which case the whiniest person in the room must drink 1.

If any gymnast falls off the uneven bars or injures him- or herself on the vault, gasp or moan in sympathy depending on how painful it looked and then drink 2.

If anyone falls while skating, the clumsiest person in the room must drink 2. If the skater's partner is visibly angry, punch the person sitting next to you.

***All drinking is tripled during Synchronized Swimming, Rhythmic Gymnastics, and Archery.***

Is it hot in here?

First, I would like to point out that I am the only person I know who actually sorta digs Rick Astley.  Seriously, I'm always kind of tickled when I get rick-rolled. (My friends won't be surprised to hear that. They've spent years trying to get me to confess that my owning CDs of three different productions of Jesus Christ Superstar, as well as two Celine Dion CDs that are entirely in French, which I neither speak nor remotely understand, is a big practical joke.) 

Second, it goes without saying that I digs me some Obama. So, um, dag. 

I know, he looks a little stiff. But watch those hips. You just know that once he's got a couple martinis in him, he trips the light FANTASTIC.

My secret? Sunscreen.

So I'm at the Ballard liquor store on Friday, because my sister told me about a drink in the latest Bon Appetit, the Widow's Touch. It's a variation on an old classic I hadn't heard of, the Widow's Kiss.

I want to try out the original, but they don't have ANY of the ingredients, which are Calvados, Yellow Chartreuse, and Benedictine (yes, it's an expensive drink). They do have one ingredient for the version in the magazine, Laird's Applejack, which I already keep in my liquor cabinet because it's so versatile in the fall. (Hot spiced cider! Applejack toddies! Hot Buttered Apple Grogs! Straight shots!)

Anyway, I end up buying  a bottle of Spudka. And I get carded.

/boggle.

Vindication

According to Peter Kramer's latest blog posting, new research suggests that exercise does not lessen depression and anxiety. This is not the first time I've heard of studies that contradict the idea that exercising counteracts mood disorders.

I already knew it, though. There have been times during my life when I exercised quite regularly. Sometimes my depressive episodes overlapped with the exercising periods. In fact, one of the worst episodes I ever had coincided with my being in the best physical shape of my life.

When I'm not depressed, exercise makes me feel good. When I'm depressed, it doesn't make me feel any worse, but it doesn't make me feel any better, either.

And now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go sit on the sofa and watch true crime shows.

Bye bye, carpet and crap

This is the truck and the guys who loaded it up with all my carpet and crap and took it away. Here they are loading holly from my dad's house. You can't really tell from this picture, but the guy on the left was DREAMY.

Seriously. Is there something in the water where these people work?

I am dumbfounded.

House full of crap

I am tearing up all the carpet in my house today. I'm also cleaning out the garage. Tomorrow some guys with a big truck are coming to haul everything away. I put a bunch of stuff I don't want anymore out in front of my house with a big sign that says "FREE", and two chairs are gone already, hooray.

Maybe I'll post before and after pictures tomorrow.

Smoking Everywhere

The title of this post is a brand name. For e-cigarettes. Yes. Electronic cigarettes. They deliver a smokeless, nicotine-laced vapor when you take a drag, and the end lights up like a real cigarette. You can exhale the vapor like smoke, but it dissipates quickly and leaves no odor, and of course there are no nasty additives or tar, because it's NOT SMOKE. But it feels and looks like smoke when you inhale it. It works with replaceable cartridges, and you can choose the level of nicotine--high, medium, low, or zero. They also come in some wack flavors; in addition to "tobacco", you can choose apple, cherry, strawberry, chocolate, coffee, vanilla, or mint. (No menthol, but maybe the mint comes close.) And you can use them anywhere--smoking bans do not apply, because, as noted, there is no smoke.

I freaking LOVE technology. I've been waiting for something like this for years--wait, no I  haven't. I never even dreamed such a thing could be possible. It's like a miracle. I am overcome. 

Will someone please talk me out of buying one of these?

More flowers from my garden

OH MAH GAWD

He likes teh kittehz, too!

Two fetishes and a vice

Smoking is sexy. Priests are sexy. Drinking is fun. Smoking, drinking priest? YOWZA.

I'm definitely buying this calendar next year.

Thanks, Tara!

Is he stupid? Or delusional? Or both?

I haven't been posting about McCain's current streak of distastrous campaign moves, mostly because they are well-documented elsewhere. Maybe I'll get around to making fun of them eventually.

Surely his biggest mistake, though, was badgering Obama into taking an international tour. Did he expect Obama, a natural statesman with impeccable manners and a devastating television presence, to somehow lose his composure on the world stage, to make idiotic blunders or expose a shocking ignorance of current global events? Because that's not what happened.

I refer you to Wonkette's list of the trip's Great Moments so far, which includes this one:

He struts around without body armor, a foot taller than everybody else — in painful contrast to Ol’ Walnuts looking like a Kevlar burrito wearing an old lady’s sun hat.

Watership Clown

Brilliant! Poor Fiver.

Thanks, Gray!

Fish pedicures

That's right, fish pedicures. Revolting, but sort of cool. I'd get one.

What is that cologne you're wearing?

I often wish I were still young enough to go clubbing. Then I hear about something like this: guys slathering themselves in Preparation H before they go out dancing, in order to decrease water retention directly below the skin and make themselves look more muscular.

I love the guy (who shall remain anonymous here--if you want to know his full name, click the link) who says “If you want to get laid, you have to know how to dance....And if you want girls to dance with you, you have to look ripped.” Does this not make him sound like a totally repressed and overcompensating homosexual? And a total asshat? It makes me want to be young and gorgeous just so I could snub him and then dance with some schlubby guy.

But here's the best part: this is now on this guy's permanent record. FOREVER. So everyone will know what a douche he is. FOREVER. Yay internets!

(Can you imagine someday when he has kids? "Daddy, did you really put hemorrhoid cream all over your chest to get ladies to have sex with you? Is that how you met Mommy?")

Overexposed garden statuary

As promised, albeit a day late. You may all heave a collective sigh of relief and go back to whatever it was you were doing.

Poppies

Here's a picture from my garden. You'd think the whole yard looked this good, wouldn't you?

Maybe tomorrow I'll post a picture of my gnomes.

It's not even Lent, goddammit!

I've been thinking about quitting drinking for several months now. But good heavens, drinking is such a huge part of my identity!

Katie: Atheist, twin, knitter, drunkard

But I did quit. A week ago I gave up alcohol, cigarettes (yes, I was smoking again, shut up), Valium, Vicodin, tramadol, Xanax, Ambien, and caffeine. Ha! I'm lucky I didn't do a Heath Ledger. I never took all of those at once, though. At least not that I recall. Then again, if I had taken all of those at once, who's to say I'd recall it?

The painkillers were for my back, which I screwed up a couple of weeks ago. I'd forgotten how a week of narcotics--all by themselves!--can make you go totally insane. Throw in random amounts of all the other stuff and, well, bring on the straitjacket. After a particularly nasty incident in which I behaved like a harpy from the seventh circle of hell, I decided I'd rather have a sore back than be psychotic.

So, yeah. I quit everything all at once. Cold turkey. Yay for me.

(I did have a cup of coffee a few days ago. My dad makes the best coffee I've ever had, and that's saying something. We live in Seattle, after all.)

I have two cats

Good lord, people drive me nuts. This poor guy is knocked flat on the floor with depression, and he's asking for advice on MetaFilter, and I swear, like HALF the answers are "Get a kitten."

I wonder if that’s what happens with crazy cat people? They just keep feeling depressed and think, “Maybe if I get ANOTHER kitten…”

A note on the previous post

Blogging about depression, especially when you're smack in the middle of it, is always risky. I try to be pretty peppy when I blog (unless I'm in an indignant lather about something), so describing my current (lamentable) mental state might seem a bit grim.

Also, I don't want it to come across as whiny or as a plea for sympathy. I'm always reading blogs by depressed people who are SO annoying and self-serving and exhibitionistic, like, "Oh, look over here and be moved by my torment and feel sorry for me but admire my courage".

Finally, I'm a pretty private person (hahaha I know you'd never know it) and it might be too revealing. But part of the illness is extreme apathy and a sort of paralysis when it comes to getting help, and I tend to exacerbate that by keeping it a secret from everyone when I'm depressed. So I thought this time I'd just tell everyone and get it out in the open and therefore HAVE to do something about it.

Perhaps something I blogged elsewhere while I was reading Peter Kramer's "Against Depression" (I was not depressed at the time) would be appropriate here:

I don't know how much more misery I can take.

And I don't mean mine.

I mean that everywhere I look, someone I care about is desperately unhappy.

And it's not because the world is a shitty place. I mean, it IS, hahaha, but that doesn't make people unhappy. Think of all the (annoying) people you know who are as happy as if they had good sense, even while this same shitty world falls to pieces around them...

No. I believe we are hardwired to be happy, no matter how fucked-up our circumstances. I don't believe that unhappy people are just more observant and aware of reality, that they somehow perceive the world with a clarity the rest of us lack. I recognize the correlation between depression and creativity, but I don't believe suffering is a prerequisite for the artist's ability to produce works of incredible beauty, profundity and insight.

I believe that depression robs people of their capacity to feel joy and pleasure and love.

And I believe that this disease, depression, is reaching epidemic proportions and that the world is not paying any fucking attention.

Well. Maybe it's not all that fitting. But I still believe it. As Dr. Kramer argues in his superlative book, depression is not the same thing as sadness, or sorrow, or moodiness. And it's not glamorous, either, despite the mystique it enjoys in certain circles. It's an illness. Nothing more, nothing less.

(Oh, and note to friends and family: Don't be alarmed. Thinking about dying is not the same thing as being suicidal.)

What have I become?

Question: How do you know if you're depressed?
Answer: NIN's "Hurt" sounds like an ANTHEM. And you're not a teenager.

Which is completely ridiculous. And that's the point. It's a great song, a perfectly emo 1990s gem. But when you find yourself actually identifying with it, and you're 40...well. You can try to fool yourself by thinking "Well, it's really Johnny Cash's cover I can relate to," but ultimately it's the same thing.

The problem is that depression doesn't hit me like a sledgehammer. If it did, it would be easy to recognize it. But it's sneaky, stealthy, and pernicious, and it creeps up, over weeks or months, until one day I finally realize I'm not just moody or grumpy. And I think, "Oh, this again." (That's actually an improvement. In my younger days, I would think, "Oh, it's ME again.")

So after a disastrous couple of weeks, I go to see my psychiatrist yesterday, and I tell her how fucked up my life is, how fucked up I am, how fucked up everything is. And how I'm a total train wreck, a disaster, a menace to myself and everyone around me. (This is not typical. Usually I go see the psychiatrist to chat about how well things are going, I get my prescriptions refilled, and that's that.)

And at the end of the session, when I am wondering aloud if I am, in fact, just a nutcase, she says, "Everything you've told me is in line with a depressive epsiode. Let's list the symptoms: fatigue, anhedonia, trouble concentrating, irritability, memory problems, feeling sad, thinking about death, intense guilt, anxiety, hopelessness, helplessness, sleeping changes, appetite changes..."

And I'm, like, "Oh. DUH."

Wuthering Heights

I could never decide if I preferred the Kate Bush or the Pat Benatar version of this song. This one trumps them both.

New Favorite Blog

I love Dr. Peter Kramer. And now I can get a regular dose of him at his blog, In Practice. Yay!

SUCKAPUUUUUNCH!

It's been almost 9 months since this first appeared on the Internets, and it is still horrifying and hilarious.

At least I will always have a job

If I don't bleed to death from my eyes. 

Thank you, Tara. I love you, Tara.

Skepticism is so BORING.

Well, shoot. THIS sure takes the fun out of everything.

(And omg! Is that Ricardo Montalban?)

Stupid new Acadamy Awards rule

I'm all huffy. This just in from AP Movie News:

The number of original songs that can be nominated from a single movie will now be limited to two, according to a rule change by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. The academy's governors approved the change late Tuesday.

What's next, limiting the number of people who can be nominated for best actor or actress or best supporting from one movie? Or maybe they already do that. I dunno.

Insomnia

There are months at a time that I sleep well.

I think the worst part of not being able to sleep might be trying to explain it to people who've never experienced it.

O that pale grim hour
When the wakeful learn to loathe the sleeping
sleepers

when the wistful envy turns to rage

Yum.

Today my sister pulled a jar of Nutella out of my cupboard and said “The pull date on this is November 2007.” I was, like, "It’s NUTELLA. Nutella doesn’t go bad."

Neither, apparently, do lots of other things.

Thanks, Tara!

FINALLY. Sheesh.

Hooray! Nobody could possibly be happier than I that this is settled. Now, who wants a glass of bubbly??

As a Seattle liberal, I'm perplexed.

My roommate Marguie is still--at this late date--a Hillary supporter. I've been wracking my brains to figure out why, and throwing every argument in the book at her, but nothing has fazed her.

Then she told me she met Ms. Clinton when she was in college. And then I totally understood. Meeting political candidates in person (at least partly because serious political candidates are, it goes without saying, breathtakingly charismatic), if they're in your party, can lead to irrational, undying, goose-stepping loyalty.

Seriously. If I met Barack Obama tomorrow, I would probably be writing him in as a candidate in every election from now until the time I die, even if I outlive him by decades. Also I'd have embarrassing Obama tattoos.

Judge Judy

I have always disliked Judge Judy. Her show reminds me of a cross between "People's Court", where the idjits of the world make me cower and cringe in embarrassment for them because they present their cases in this misguided, fucked-up, pseudo-legalese CREOLE ("Well your honor at that point I proceeded to proceed to my vehicle and open the vehicle door and position myself in the driver's seat at which point I proceeded to insert the ignition key and turn it to start the ignition and proceed to exit the surrounding area of the premises"), instead of just telling the damned story clearly ("And then I got in my car and left"), and Laura Schlessinger, who is the meanest bitch who ever masqueraded as a caring person wanting to help people who actually get up the nerve to seek SOME sort of counseling.

But thanks to the wonderful staff of Jezebel, who screens through all the Judge Judy dreck and posts only the good parts, saving me a lot of time, I am now a fan.

Missing people

I got one of those "Have you seen me?" cards in the mail today and it features Ms. Donnis Redman, who has been missing since 1958. Fifty years. They have an age-progressed photo (she would be 64), but I'm guessing she's probably dead.

A Juna Shatner Paroli Esperanto

Hottest thing ever? Quite possibly.

A most unlikely hero

I hereby take back everything I've ever said about Foghorn Matthews. Except that he sounds like a foghorn.

Hooray for California!

Now that the California Supreme Court has ruled that same-sex marriage is a constitutional right, George Takei is getting married to his partner of 21 years, Brad Altman. Isn't that great?

Kids in the Hall

The Kids in the Hall were in Seattle on Thursday for their reunion tour. The whole show was great, and the Gavin sketch was hilarious:

"Religion is for stupid people. It gives them something to do that isn't scratching lottery tickets. If you kinda think about it, it's sorta the same thing."

What he said

Here's a truly spectacular rant by Keith Olbermann. I love Love LOVE it when he does these special comments, and this time he outdoes himself.

How I learned to walk

I have a twin sister who walked way before I did. There are even home movies of me crawling around everywhere and Anna toddling—my favorite was always one where she takes my bottle and tries to walk off with it and I grab her ankle and down she goes, and I take it back. Apparently I could crawl really fast in all directions, but I wouldn’t walk without holding on to something or someone’s hands. ANYWAY one day our parents had a party and they were serving some sort of homemade wine cooler or something and I was tugging on someone’s leg for a sip, and one of my parents said “Sure, she can have a little sip” and then like half an hour later I got up and RAN across the room. So someone goes “Haha, it must have been the drink I gave her” and then someone else said “Oh, I gave her one too!” and apparently like 15 people had let me have sips of their drinks.

(This WAS like 40 years ago. They let kids have drags off cigarettes then, too.)

Happy Mother's Day from the McCains

I don't know which I like better, the 27 bottles of scotch or the 1950s Disney nature documentary soundtrack.

At the torch parade/protest in San Francisco

And would we have allowed Leni Riefenstahl to film it? Well, would we??

Thanks, Gray and Deadro!

Run the Show

Which do I love more, those shoes or this song?

(You can also hear it in Spanish.)

Viva Absolut!

I don't even like vodka, but I'm gonna drink it now.

Thanks, Hilary!

The flying man

I got this wall rosary on eBay. It glows in the dark and it's really big. James wanted to hold it so I gave it to him, and he looked at the crucifix, which is almost 8 inches long, and said "It's a flying man!" I guess if you really, really dig airplanes as much as James does, you could see an airplane in that silhouette. So he starts running around the room with it, going "Vroom, vroom, it's a flying man!"

His mother said, "That's Jesus, honey." So James keeps flying the crucifix around the room, saying "Vroom, vroom, it's Jesus flying!"

Clearly this child has no godparents.

I think this speaks for itself.

Age-appropriate reading material

The topic of this book is fascinating and the photographs are just stunning. James loves the book of spider photographs I gave him when he was smaller, so I thought he'd like this one, too.

We were almost all the way through it before it occurred to me that showing a three-year-old a book about eating bugs is maybe not the best idea in the world.

Bet she can ace the Mini Mental

I saw an interview of this doctor on TV several years ago. I was fascinated, if a wee bit spooked.

I was happy to learn of this video. I recommend setting aside time to watch the whole thing, all the way to the end.



I just watched it stoned.

Now THAT is what I mean when I say ROBOT

This thing reminds me of that scary doll's-head-with-mechanical-spider-legs in "Toy Story"--I don't know if I want to give it a skritch and a cuddle or run away screaming.



If they could change the pulsing buzz it makes to a steady drone, it would sound exactly like an swarm of angry wasps.

The sun came out, the birds began to sing

Okay, normally I don't go for this sort of inspirational video, but omg, this is GREAT STUFF: A Gulf War veteran who's been disabled, in pain, and putting on weight for 15 years begins a workout program called "Yoga for Regular Guys," created by a professional wrestler turned horror movie actor with the name of a card sharp. Nine months later, a miracle happens! No, it's not a baby. Watch and see.

Run away! RUN AWAY!

I love bunnies. Like, it's stupid how much I love them. I've never owned one. Whenever I've been tempted to get one, my sister reminds me that the cats would totally kill it.

True enough, I guess. Until now.

This is a regular-sized bunny on top of the largest bunny in the world.

Alleluia, He is risen!

I'd love to give credit to the artist for this, but I can't remember where I found it.

Happy Easter!

Speaking of knitting...

I've been asked why I don't blog about my knitting. Mostly it's because there's not much to say about it. I knit all the time, but lately it's been nothing but scarves, which I don't even wear, and which make for really boring posts, even for people who LIKE reading about knitting.

But I aim to please. So, for those who are interested (all two of you), I present my new blog about knitting (and sometimes crochet): Masturknitter.

(Edited July 24, 2008 to update blog name.)

Mrgragrargleblarblelglglarbleblgrbl!

I am so gonna knit me a murloc.

(Pattern here, courtesy of wingedkamui)

Booby hatch

The new owners of a former mental institution in West Virginia have opened the 19th-century Gothic Revival building to the public, offering guided tours with various historical themes, and they plan to host special events throughout the year.

They've got some folks all riled up, though, because they're reusing one of the building's previous names: the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. Which is totally awesome. But apparently some people's feelers are hurt:

Scott Miller, director of Mountain State Direct Action Center, said one former patient burst into tears after seeing the name on a sign.

"It's not just that I'm a liberal and I think it's not a good idea; it's seeing people physically hurt," he said. "That's about all I needed to know."

Well. As a liberal who happens to have my very own mental illness, I say this: Dag. Lighten up.

Oh, the joys of retail!

I used to work in retail. For a short time, I even considered opening my own shop. But I bought a house instead, and I've never looked back.

For all of you who dream of going into business for yourselves, let this video serve as a cautionary tale.




I totally dig that gnome, though.

Expelled from "Expelled"!

It's not just a Good Friday, it's a GREAT Friday.

A happy Holy Week story for atheists everywhere, courtesy of PZ Meyers.

Pure, unadulterated joy

It kind of makes me want a cigarette, though.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Now, if you don't mind, I've got to go do my hair.

Irish I were drunk!

Catholicism is one of my hobbies, so I gave up drinking for Lent this year. I don't, however, actually believe in God, so my resolve has wavered.

Okay, the atheism had nothing to do with it. My resolve wavered because I really like drinking. So I gave up giving up drinking for Lent.

I'm a drunkard, but I'm a really lazy, inefficient one. Last week I was driving home from work and thinking "Damn, I really want a drink, but there's no alcohol in the house! Damn!" And the whole time, I'm driving past various grocery, convenience, and liquor stores, but I'm too lazy to stop to buy something to drink. So I get home and spend the rest of the evening STILL thinking, "Damn, I really want a drink, but there's no alcohol in the house!"

So is that more pathetic or less pathetic than being the drunkard who stops for the drink?

Scary things

I have a phobia of driving over bridges spanning water. I have to face and overcome this phobia almost every day, which keeps it tame and controllable. Even if I were completely at its mercy, though, I could manage to live a reasonably normal life and most people would probably never even know I had a phobia.

Other people are not so fortunate.

One Minute to Nine

Today: The North American premiere of "One Minute to Nine" at the South by Southwest Film Festival in Austin, Texas.



Director Tommy Davis says on HuffPo: "The film has found itself playing around the world with great reviews from the press....In Switzerland people appeared to have seen a film [that] critiqued George Bush, the US Justice System and the treatment of women around the world. In Poland people found a film that runs counter to the current political showmanship of modern documentary films. In Mexico the audience treated the film like a suspenseful mystery with a tragic ending. And now it's time to see how the film will play at home."

Still among the employed

I got another job, hooray! So now I can buy the circular kitchen. Except I can't because I heard back from the manufacturer and it's not yet available in the US. Maybe I should write back to them and ask for a quote in Euros, and a shipping cost estimate.

My new kitchen

I'm taking bets on how much this costs.

They don't list prices on their website, so I requested an estimate for the most expensive model.

I'll keep you posted.

But I'm the ONLY person who can help!

I happened to watch that "Tom Cruise on Tom Cruise, Scientologist" video again and I thought "OMFG, that is exactly how I sounded at that job interview last week!"

Stupid SPs didn't hire me.

Heh heh. You said "boner." Heh heh.

I like comics. And I have a very sophisticated sense of humor, like Beavis & Butthead. So I like this a lot.

Snowdrops

these are not my snowdrops, but they look like them

One thing I like about January is the snowdrops in my yard. I am an intermittent gardener, and my yard generally reflects that. But no matter how crappy the yard looks, the snowdrops I planted the first year come up every January, and this year the number has doubled.

I've been looking for a new job, since I recently found out my current one is ending March 1st. (My whole team is being let go, but not before we spend a month training our replacements. Haha.)

So I'm looking around at ads for writing and editing positions, and I came across one that includes the following in the list of job qualifications:

• Experience developing conditionalized, parameterized, metadata-driven content for multiple outputs.

I have no idea what that means, and I've been working at this very same company for almost two years now. Clearly this particular group is in desperate need of a good writer, but if that's their idea of clear, concise writing, I don't think I'd be a good match.