viernes, marzo 30, 2007

Can someone help me out?

After reading this BBC article, I can't understand why it is so important to Olmert's government (and those before) not to agree to go back to Israel's pre-1967 borders. Do they really need to hold on to everything? For what? And what was with Olmert's comment about "the countries who count in the Arab world...."? Doesn't EVERY COUNTRY count in some way? Seriously, I would love and need to hear people's answers to this questions, so if you've got one, bring it here.

jueves, marzo 29, 2007


Firstly, I feel that I've become hyper-aware of the positivity levels in my world. This is thanks in part to J., and as you might conclude, there are some comments that do not quickly cease to upset me, especially because of where and who they come from. According to many, I have a lot of positivity in my life, but some comments, especially those made to my blog posts, wherein I always try to end on a note of at least semiquasipositivity, make me think that that's not shining through enough. Having said this, I'm not about to make any extra efforts to seem all happy and bouncy, but I will say that one or five complaints do not a depresso make. So, yeah, Swandad, it may seem like I am going slightly postal, but rest assured I am really a lovely, HAPPY person. Even moreso after I left that 7th circle of doom known as "my old office". I can be serious, but for the most part, I am very kid-like and smiley, to the point where guys think I am cute, almost never pretty or beautiful, which I guess is OK by me. I am especially childlike when I see things I like, and this can happen even in somewhat somber places like Barney's. Example: I'll find a coat that I particularly love. I clap my hands and go "oh goodie oh goodie oh goodie!". Then I look at the tags. It is on sale. I jump up and down. It is in my size. Yes! I exclaim, much like I did when I hit a baseball out of the park with my aluminum bat as a kid. This kind of thing, jumping up and down and shouting with glee, happens often, although I've never been asked to stop, except by my mom, who is easily embarrassed by me in general. So that's a little insight for you on the enigma that is me. There's just a lot of stupid shit going on in the world, and what kind of blogger would I be if I didn't bring it to your attention? Besides, if I always wrote about happy things and dotted my i's with little smiley faces and shit, you readers would tell me I suck, right? And you all have to admit, a little part of you loves to hear negative shit. It's human nature. It doesn't make you bad. It makes you a normal person.

Second, geez I am really not up on my news these days! I just read today, about a week after the fact, that the House passed a bill calling for withdrawal of troops in Iraq by March 2008. Today, the Senate followed suit, setting a bunch of benchmarks for withdrawal. Hallelujah! But this feasible? Um, probably not. At least not while Bush and company are around. But whatever afterglow, I mean, effects, of withdrawal (tee hee hee) will not be suffered by any of us Stateside. Even the American ego will only be bruised for about a month, and then everyone will gain perspective on this mistake and realize it was wrong, Cons, bedwetters and middle-of-the-road folk alike. The effects of our troop withdrawal (and God help Blair if he doesn't leave when we do) will be felt by the Iraqis, at least those who haven't already fled for their lives. But I have a theory, and this is where the positive thinking, and perhaps borderline naivite, depending on your leanings, comes into play: I think a large part of the fighting of the insurgents will end once we have the decency to leave. Note here that I said "part" and not "all". There will still be infighting between Sunnis and Shias and possibly the Kurds as well, which I realize qualifies as civil war. But that would be nothing new, as they have been fighting each other since long before God had the idea of creating this America place. Those who say civil war will break out if our troops leave are just a tad full of shit. As if our troops are holding it down. Those kids are getting their legs and arms blown off, that's what's happenening. I just read last night in the Village Voice about this very hot Puerto Rican soldier from the Bronx who lost 40% of his brain to a landmine. Now he is in a VA hospital in the Bronx, being cared for by his mother moreso than the nurses, and back to playing with GI Joes. He has the mind of a 6 year old now. He was tricked. He believed in Bush's cause, volunteered to go, and had his brains blown out. I sure hope Bush appreciates his sacrifice. But I digress.....Look, this be my thinking: We already had our civil war. We couldn't stop the Vietnamese from having theirs. Why do we need to try and stop the Iraqis from having one, especially when we should know by now that we can't?

Hearts and flowers and kisses to you all!!!!

miércoles, marzo 07, 2007

Gray Hairs

On the way home on Friday night, I stopped in ladies and just happened to look in the mirror, and it was then that I saw it...the Omen that would school me on what is to come. I spied my first gray hair, and before I could think about it, I plucked it out, and then remembered that 5 more would grow back in its place. I found those the next day. Anyway, I saved the plucked hair in a little porcelain box I got in London when I turned 29. I told my mother, who was visiting for the weekend, about the hair. She recently let her hair go after years of coloring it and totally rocks it, and was quick to tell me she had absolutely no sympathy for me, even as I stood there sniffing and sobbing and mourning the inevitable end of my good hair days.

Then I turned 31 yesterday. I'm not depressed about it, but I do feel as if God is dragging me through the years kicking and screaming. I'm not ready to go there yet! I don't think my thirties are the end of it all, but I'm just not ready yet. I didn't do anything to celebrate really, but I did have lunch with a few former co-workers of mine. We were actually celebrating one of them getting a promotion and going to another office, but they did a two-for-one deal and took me out, too, which was very nice of them. I had my Sake Ikura Don and a good-sized glass of sake (on the house) and was a happy camper. Then I went for my training session at the gym with S., the most beautiful trainer ever. I know this is true because usually, my admiration for unattainable men quickly goes away after it is drilled into my head that I cannot have him. But not with S. I still check him out whenever he's not looking and make that little purring noise I make when I find someone particularly delicious. Anyway, upon seeing me, he wished me a happy birthday and gave me a huge hug, actually lifting me off the ground with his muscular, football-playing self. Yum. Never mind that he almost squeezed the life right out of me. What a way to go! After our session, I went home, talked to my dad, and went to bed earlier than I have in years.

Turning 31 has made me think about changing some things. First, and I discussed this with mom (who was all gung-ho about it) and then my dad (who was all skeptical because he just bought his apartment and "claims" to not have the money. I have some and I can always get a loan), I am going to go to graduate school. I've picked Washington as the preferred place to do this, because DC is a great place for pontificating big mouths like me, and because I get to be with my parents and friends as I've been wanting to do for a while now. I had an informal look at my options, and GWU has a Latin American studies program within the International Relations graduate program. I am SO there! This year will be about prepping for and then taking the GRE. This time I will actually try to get a good score, unlike the SAT's, on which I let myself bomb because I knew what college I was going to and they did not insist on stellar scores.

The other change may not seem really important, but spiritually, it is. I decided to cut my hair in a pixie 'do. I got this idea from Lenny Kravitz, who said that cutting off his locks after so long was one of the best things he could have done to cleanse his spirit. So I will do the pixie 'do in lieu of shaving my entire head, which would expose the dents left over from my operation, which happened 21 years ago June 5th. This will expose the scar that runs from the nape of my neck all the way to the middle of the crown of my head, but fuck it. Considering that I had shaved the bottom half of my head when I went to college, and then wore my hair up, and was told "you are SO hard-core!", I don't really care.

This be my thinking.