Mars is in Sight...

Thanks to my lack of sleep last night, I am on edge and jittery today. I couldn't stand it any more and called New School's admission office a few minutes ago even though I emailed them yesterday inquiring about my status. Although the nice guy who answered the phone could not tell me what the decision was, he did verify that my file came back to the admissions office yesterday, so I should find out soon. Hopefully, their office will process whatever it is quickly. If I can eat my Mars bar by Saturday afternoon, that would be nice.

Happy Book News

Last night I had dinner with a friend who mentioned some potential copyright issues regarding Off the Beaten (Subway) Track that I've been worrying about for a few months in the far recesses of my frazzled mind. In fact, the worry was so distant (but gnawing) that I forgot about it until I was falling asleep tonight, and then I couldn't sleep because I got so nervous. I am sure that everything will work out fine in the end, as it usually does, but it's my nature to freak out for the most part.

While I was pondering the vastness of the universe, I decided to google the book and see if anything new appeared. And goodness gracious, I was delighted to discover that it is now for sale at Barnes & Noble! It's been on Amazon and a few other fine internet establishments for a few months now, but man, I feel like it's the super big times now! (I'm only slightly curious as to why it is not available at Barnes & Noble until July 28, which is 4 weeks later than Amazon's date of July 1, but I'm not going to think too much about that right this moment. I swear...)

Since I can't wake Husband up to share the exciting news with him, I am glad that I have my e-buddies and the internets to tell. And, anyone who will be in New York City on August 9th is invited to my book party. Just let me know, and I'll get you the details. I think that the fine day of filing and data entry that I have ahead of me (count down: 8 hours until blast off) will go by a bit faster while I think about being an author who has a book for sale at both Amazon and Barnes & Noble. So cool.

NOTHING PISSES ME OFF MORE

There is probably nothing that pisses me off more than people comparing non-genocidal situation to the Holocaust. On CNN.com, women from the invaded polygamous fundamentalist cult in Texas made the following sick, dementing, and ignorant juxtaposition:

But the women on the YFZ ranch say they're being treated like Jews during the Holocaust.

"We have been persecuted for our religion," Kathleen said. "We are being treated like the Jews were when they were escorted to the German Nazi camps."

Really? Were you sent to a forced labor camp? Are you being starved? Were your children killed in front of your very eyes as you plead for their lives? Are you and your spouses and children being gassed to death or forced to line up naked by a pit so that you can be shot into a mass grave?

No? Then guess the fuck what? You are not being treated like Jews, gypsies, or homosexuals during the Holocaust. You are not in Darfur. If I had even an ounce of sympathy for you (as it is awful to have children taken away), there is nothing left but severe disgust. Fuck you and your false sense of victimization. And even though I disagree with your demented submissive lifestyle, I truly hope that you never know what it feels like to be a victim of genocide.

I've said it once, and I'll say it as often as I have to: statements like this demean the true meaning of genocide. The Holocaust (or any similar situation) should never, under any circumstances, be invoked unless there are actually people being hunted down and killed for their ethnicity/religion.

Re-Thinking My Incompetence, Or Other People Suck Much Worse Than Me

Every time I go to perform my glorified clerical duties at my newish job, I wonder what the hell happened to me.

In January 2002, I began a new job in which I planned a program to bring capital and technical assistance to community groups and early childhood programs around the City. When I was hired for that job, I wondered what the fuck the agency was thinking in bringing on a 25 year old to do this work. Then I remembered that I had three years of experience in that niche field, which was more or less three years more than any other likely candidate, so it made sense. Long story short, I fucked some shit up along the way, but mostly did a very good job developing and implementing the program before I burned out due to challenges to my sanity that were both internal (like money being stolen from my program and used for another, but I'm not still bitter or anything...) and external (like early childhood education is public priority #1,209,988, if that...) to the office.

In the olden days of my rough and tumble child care work, I often felt like an incompetent fool. Not the most incompetent fool around (I encountered enough people who made me wonder how they managed to tie their shoes, let alone do any work), but still a person who had a lot of things to learn. I tried to absorb as much as I could from mentors and colleagues. I also tried to acknowledge to myself that I was good at some stuff, although I semi-failed at that task.

Which brings me to the present day. As I sort through the clusterfuck of a mess of a data collection project, I realize that I may still make mistakes, but damn, compared to my predecessor, I am a model of competence, efficiency, and common sense. I even tell funny jokes (usually to myself, as I tend to work alone) while I fix shit. Go me and my non-profit management skill set! Now, if only that would help me get into an MFA program. (Still no word and hence, no Mars bar eating.)

Who's on First? No, Really...

A few summers ago, I swore that I was finished with the Chicago Cubs. The team broke my heart too many times, and I was determined to end the cycle of baseball fan abuse once and for all. Despite my pledge, I half-heartedly cheered for them in the playoffs last summer. Since I didn't follow them all season and had no idea who the players were, I was only half-committed to rooting them on, it didn't bother me when they were (predictably) quickly eliminated. Plus, I had emotionally exhausted myself watching the Mets - my new top team - self-destruct before the playoffs even arrived, squandering a season-long lead. The Cubs' defeat was nothing.

This baseball season marks the 100th anniversary of the Cubs' last World Series victory. Although I am convinced that any future Cubs World Series glory marks the coming of the Apocalypse, I think I am going to again pay attention to the team. There's some good potential there. (We all know where this is headed. Hit it, Elivs: the Heartbreak Hotel...) I viewed the end of yesterday's game, in which the Cubs blew a two run lead over Philly, but won it in the 10th. I hadn't the foggiest idea who the hell was on the field other than Derek Lee, who I at first failed to recognize, but it was fun to watch.

However, my commitment to two teams is going to cause my brain to explode. It is hard for me to learn so many names, and as it is, I am overwhelmed with remembering who the new Mets players are. (LoDuca is out; Schneider is in - or is it Church who is catching? No, Church is in the outfield replacing someone, maybe Millege? And where did Pagan come from?) Next step is to learn to connect the names to the faces, which is extremely difficult for me. If I am truly going to get back into the Cubs this year, that means I also have to learn their team from scratch. It's like taking on a full time job.

Fortunately, Husband is patient with my limitations, and no matter how many times I ask who's on first, Husband reminds me of the guy's whole back story. As any true fan knows, baseball sometimes requires sacrifices to be made.

Now That's the Life

I love that Tycho, our 13 lb. rabbit, no longer even bothers getting up before he eats. He just lays on the floor and cranes his neck into his food dish. We should all be able to take it so easy.

Misused Penis Cream Can Lead to Big Fingers

The good thing about watching too much reality programming on TV is that the ads are exceptionally worthy of mocking. First, I tore into a Bounty ad depicting a woman wiping up a jizz-like substance from a door mat. While my initial criticism was aimed at the fact that the woman cleaned up spilled pop while her lazy husband and son stood around staring at the mess one of them made, in the back of my mind, I wondered how the hell a puddle of splooge wound up on the door mat. Thanks to a Maxoderm ad I saw yesterday afternoon, I now know.

Maxoderm is a cream that supposedly gives guys bigger dicks. The couple in the ad beamed and grabbed at each other as the husband boasted that his wife bought Maxoderm for him. She then leered at the camera, purring about what a BIG difference it's made. Wink, wink. They practically cum on the spot.

Now, why this guy is not insulted that his wife would give him such a product is beyond me. I think it would hurt his feelings as much as it would if he bought me cream to make me grow bigger tits. When I asked him what he would do if I gave him Maxoderm, Husband claimed that if I bought some for him, he'd first smear it on his finger to see what would happen. "If it fell off, I'd know not to use it," he told me, nodding.

However, I learned from the Maxoderm site that the results would not be the same on a finger as a penis. Why not? Because, "A relaxed penis has less oxygen than any other organ." If that's the case, can you imagine how big Husband's finger would get from his experiment? It's be crazy. He could poke an eye out from across a room; steal a purse while at the other end of a subway car. I could boast to every that my husband has the biggest... finger. Amazing!