Particulars

Well, I'd thought I would post a little update on what's been goin' on lately.

Today I'm getting a TON of work done. I'm digitizing like a fiend and I've had a lot of really nice illustrations to work with. Plus my coworker isn't here, so I have peace and quiet. If you know me, you know that I love talking. However, when it's worktime/papertime/readingtime, I get down to business like a squirell looking for his nuts. So, as much as I am great in a team or social setting or like a coworker, I really like working on my own sometimes.

As for the new job hunt, it's still going. I have my eye on some writing positions and a digital imaging specialist one too. Right now, I'm applying here and there to jobs I really want, since I'm not desperate. I've been extended at the Smithsonian with chance for another extension after that. So, I have full-time museum work until about June as of now. I'm going to start assisting (for free) on a new exhibit at the Woodrow Wilson House, where I wrote an exhibit last year. I will hopefully be going to the various archives around and digging into personal letters and other primary documents. I know, can you believe it? I'll work for free? Gotta love the museum field. We're all suckers. I think we fancy ourselves activists in a way. Our motto? Preserving and educating one obscure object at a time.

I've also been reading a ton lately. I admit that I actually read a Pride and Prejudice sequel, called Mr.Darcy Takes a Wife. Man, is it saucy. Whew. Apparently Austen purists HATE it, but I didn't care that much. The plot was okay, the characters pretty much in keeping with the original, the archaic language overused, and some of the sex scenes bizarre. But, if it means more Mr. Darcy, I have to admit I'm not that picky. I watched What A Girl Wants for Christ's sake, just for Colin Firth. Last night I finished Lamb: the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal by Christopher Moore. I would definitely recommend this one. It's like Last Temptation of Christ, but the with word "fuck" (a lot), teenage angst, boyhood pranks, and Kung Fu. Hilarious, touching, and fairly well researched. I'm a big fan of reimagined historical figures. It shows that there are more dimensions to our "heroes" than a lot of the crap we're fed in public schools, even if it is fictional. Breaks that wall down, you know?

I've been reading some non-fiction too. Even though I'm not in school, I got the syllabi for some cultural studies classes at GWU and I have some of those articles set aside. I've been trying to reread Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, since I never really got my head around it the first time... And, since becoming obsessed with Lost I've been poking around Locke and Rousseau.

That's really about it. I've been trying to socialize as much as possible, since most of my friends start their new jobs starting the first of the year and we'll all go back to being exhausted. I'll be spending New Years here in D.C. for the first time ever. I've been in Arkansas for every other year. We're doing a Murder Mystery party that's a college reunion script. So, a keg, some pizza, jello shots and drinking games will add to the ambiance of our bad 90s clothes. Rock on.

Well, back to my Nectoliparis pelagicus, I guess.

Read More...

I hate shopping...

Well, Christmas is almost upon us and I have barely bought any presents. I have ideas, but a small budget for the festivities. Since this is the first XMAS since my Grandma died, we're all keeping it small. She was really the instigator of the Great American Potlatch, as my mom has dubbed Christmas at my Grandma's house. No more potlatches, I guess. Well, until my sister shoots out little ones. Don't look at me, man. My clock is ticking but I'm choosing to ignore it.

I guess things could be worse than having to go XMAS shopping. Like, I don't know, having to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge to get to work. And the way that Bloomberg keeps treating the strikers like they are criminals? Sometimes I wonder why we still have unions, the way that they are so bureaucratic and all... but then you get a situation where you realize workers need a voice. I don't know all the particulars, but it seems like to me that NY should just pay them more... The strike is hurting the big businesses more than anyone, because people are staying home from work. And it's Big Business that pushes an anti-union, low-wage culture in the first place. They (Big Business, Bloomberg and their 'Publican friends) are just shooting themselves in the foot with this one. Of course, I'm a commie so I'd side with the workers, wouldn't I?

On another note, the Danielson Famile is a weird weird band. My iPod just shuffled me a song from Tell Another Joke At the Ole' Choppin Block and I actually had to pause what I was doing and adjust my senses. That doesn't mean I don't like it, though. My favorite things are ugly.

Read More...

Bring 'Em Home, Mr. President

Well, well, well... seems as if Bush has realized the power of actually appearing before the people. The man seems to have given more press conferences the last two weeks than he did his whole first term.

In a recent one, Bush finally took responsibility for going to war in Iraq. And admitted that the decision was partly based on false information. Wow. Cause I didn't know that already. Thanks for catching up Bush. Nice to know you're up to date on what the hell is happening in the world.

While some might think that this is perhaps the sign of a new, humble, accountable President, I say bollocks. This admission is because his ratings are dropping, over 2000 American soldiers have been killed, and people are pissed at him. When he finally took responsibility for Katrina, his critics backed off a bit. You don't think this is the same ploy?

Here's the kicker, though. Even if you do believe Bush is being sincere, that he really claims responsibility for sending our men and women into Iraq, well guess what? He sure as hell ain't taking responsibility for bringing them home. At the Pageant of Peace, the White House's annual Christmas festival, Bush led a prayer. Yeah, I know, separation of Church and State is really entrenched, isn't it? But that wasn't even what pissed me off. It was this:

We ask for God to watch over our men and women in uniform who are serving overseas. Their families miss them -- hold a seat open for them -- and pray for their safe return.

So, Bushy, you're responsible for sending Americans over there, but God is responsible for bringing them home? Wow. It's amazing how delusional you really are, Mr. President. How exceedingly trapped in your six years of lies and trickery you have become. Because, if I'm not mistaken, you and your Republican cronies have the power to bring our soldiers home.

All you have to do, Mr. President, is say four simple words...

The War is Over.

Read More...

Poirot

"But Poirot," asks Hastings when Poirot arrives to a costume ball dressed as himself, "The idea was to come as someone famous."

"Precisely."

I grew up watching Mystery on PBS every Sunday night. I couldn't wait for the Edward Gorey opening and I tingled at Vincent Price's creepy voice. But my favorite nights were always those that included the great Hercule Poirot. My mom and Nana are both massive mystery buffs, so I was introduced to the great master Agatha Christie at a very young age. Even before Mystery I had loved that enigmatic Poirot with his funny moustache, his ego, and his egg-shaped bald head.

And then? And then I totally forgot about him. I grew up and started watching MTV. David Suchet, the actor who played Poirot to perfection, was not on MTV but on the British Stage. By college, I had nearly forgotten all about Poirot's beautiful egg-shaped head, his ever-present cane, his constant disdain for those who called him French or mispronounced his name, and his unparalleled mystery-solving skills. Oh, oui, c'est une grande perte.

Recently, however, I have rediscovered the Poirot series that aired on PBS. My local library has a bazillion tapes and my husband and I have taken to watching about one a night.

I have thus decided that Poirot is the biggest, baddest Queen to ever live.

I mean, seriously, what else can you call a person who has a meticulous appearance, an amazing intellect, and a sufferable ego about it all? Who has hordes of admirers and a constant British companion? A Queen.

Actually, a Reine, to be totalement correct.

Read More...

Rest in Peace, Borf. Rest in Peace.

Borf has plead guilty to vandalism and will help in the removal of his so-called "unwanted art." But here's the thing: what if it isn't unwanted?

Personally, I always enjoyed seeing the "vandalism" Borf strewed upon city bridges, buildings, and streets. I liked knowing that someone out there, even a teenage kid from the 'burbs, took the time to create, to express, to DO. Borf wasn't leaving racist or sexist hate speech. He wasn't leaving unrefined blobs of paint. Rather, he made finely detailed stencils. His graffiti felt more like art than vandalism to me.

Okay sure, sometimes all he (or his copycats) left was loosely scribbled white paint spelling out his name on a trash bin... But all the same, I liked knowing that somewhere out there, in the great expanse of D.C., Borf was holding a spraycan of white paint and creating new public art in this sometimes sterile city.

Read More...

Games + Music = Geek Fun

So, a friend on MySpace sent out this bulletin:




It's a picture with 75 bands in it, all identified by visual and word hints. I'm now sitting at my computer on a Saturday morning trying to get them all.

This is what I have so far:

1. Eels
2. Rolling Stones
3. Queen
4. Prince
5. Sex Pistols
6. Beach Boys
7. Hole
8. Black Flag
9. Led Zeppelin
10. Seal
11. Lemonheads
12. Talking Heads
13. Radiohead
14. Smashing Pumpkins
15. Scissor Sisters
16. Crowded House
17. Postal Service
18. The Pixies
19. Styx
20. Iron Maiden
21. Eagles
22. Iron Maiden
23. The Cars
24. B-52s
25. Spoon
26. Alice in Chains
27. Blur
28. White Zombie
29. Garbage
30. U2
31. Guns 'n' Roses
32. Matchbox 20
33. Blind Melon
34. Red Hot Chili Peppers
35. Ratt
36. Cowboy Junkies
37. The Black Crowes
38. 50 Cent
39. Madonna
40. The Roots
41. Whitesnake
42. Dead Kennedys
43. The Police
44. Deep Purple?
45. Plant?
46. Great White
47. White Stripes?
48. Phish
49. Yellowman
50. Candy
51. Pineapples
52. The Potatoes
53. Mannequin


Some of these items seem to have put in the picture just because they have object names, like "Potatoes" and "Pineapple." But who am I to talk? I only got 53 and some of those I had help on.

So post comments if you see anymore, people.

Read More...

My Husband Hates My Clothes... And I Like It.

The other day, I left the house wearing a bright pink blouse that had ruffles all up the button line, on up to the ruffle collar. Over it I had on a white cardigan with pink, green, and purple dogwoods printed on it. In short, I was a mish mash of collar, color, and bad taste and I loved it. I felt pretty. I felt cute. I felt like Elizabeth.

And you know what? My husband just laughed at me. Giggled and pointed, in fact. Then gave me a kiss on the head and we headed out the door. And you know what? I like it. I like that he thinks I dress funny. I like that he hates that I wear make-up and tells me. I adore that he rolls his eyes at most of the things I bring home from the thrift shop and that he's aghast that anyone would shop at H&M. While smiling at me, of course.

Some of you out there with romantic partners may think my husband sounds mean. That he's rude and insensitive. That he's belittling me or at the very best patronizing me. Well, you can go ahead and think that, because I think it's hilarious if you do. Obviously you don't know him or me very well. If statements like that hurt your feelings, I'm sorry. They sure as hell don't hurt mine. I didn't marry my husband so that he would validate my closet or me, to get right to point. I fell in love with him BECAUSE he hates my clothes and thinks I'm weird. I wanted somebody who was different than me, who had different ideas, different opinions, different styles and could appreciate mine. There are a bazillion hipster clones out there in this world and more power to you if you want to date someone who looks just like you, who likes the same music, who repeats the same ideological crap that you do. Me? I'd rather have someone who challenges me, who is independent thinking, who thinks I'm wacko and I wear funny clothes and that I'm the damned cutest thing ever seen. I want to go to an art museum with my husband and us like some of the same pieces, of course. But if we hated and liked all of the same objects, that would make for a pretty boring life of constant self-validation, don't you think? I want to have things in common with my partner, but I don't want a cookie-cutter of me.

So, here's the thing... My husband can giggle and point all he wants, but I'm still wearing my damned pink shirt with the ruffle collar. As long as at the end of the day he still treats me with respect, still considers me his equal, still values my opinion above all others, still wants me to be the person that I want to be not that he wants me to be, still thinks I'm pretty, still thinks I'm the funniest person he's ever met, I could care less if he likes my shirt.

PS I know that there are men and women that do criticize their romantic partners as a way to belittle, abuse and control them. I am not in any way saying that this does not happen. Just not to me.

PSS Also, I promise I'm not heterosexist. My partner just happens to be a male. I can't help that. Blame it on his parents.

Read More...

What's In a Name?

So, I know we all have identity issues... Most of us are neurotic, self-absorbed, and obsessed with our image... and that's on a good day. But what do you do when you don't even know your own name?

See here's the thing: I have many many many names. No, Messiah is not one of them... Yet. I'm still working on the Mission Plan for my Cult. Anyhow... My best friend from college was recently visiting me here in D.C. where a friend from Arkansas now lives too and I realized that when a bunch of us went out, I was being called THREE different names simultaneously... and I don't mean slanders, either.

Growing up, my parents used the nickname, "Betsy" for me because it matched best with my twin's name, "Cathy." (The twin thing is a WHOLE other identity issue that most people are lucky/unfortunate enough not to deal with... moving on...) So, I was called "Betsy" until I reached Junior High and attempted to change this fact. You know when the teachers call roll on the first day and then ask what you go by? Well, I finally started answering, "Elizabeth." Of course, seeing as how I was going to Junior High with the same people who had called me "Betsy" not a summer before, my strategy didn't work... Sure, my teachers respected it, but the kids? Nope... still Betsy. Yes, I'm aware that it's a common cow name. I grew up in Arkansas, of course I know that. As do all the other Arkansans in my school... Why do you think I was so anxious to be called Elizabeth? Sigh.

Well, at some point in high school I made friends with a girl from Chicago who decided to start calling me "Liz." Cathy (not my twin) was the first openly Democratic person I had met in Arkansas and I adored her... mostly for her spirit, but renaming me certainly didn't hurt anything. By the time I went to college at the University of Missouri-Columbia, I had started to like "Liz," though in Arkansas few people actually called me that. Liz was funkier than Elizabeth, more self-assured, and way less like a cow's name than Betsy. I still always introduced myself as Elizabeth, especially in class. It was a nice back-up name to Betsy. Liz, though, became my "casual" college name and I liked the way being a "Liz" felt. I liked the people "Liz" was friends with.

But then, something else happened, something cataclysmic. All my friends who called me Liz, whom I associated with my "Liz" persona, well... to put it succinctly, they sorta sucked. A lot. And we stopped being friends. Liz now sounded like a dirty word coming from their mouths... Liz... Liz... Liz...Bleck. So here I was, an unwilling Betsy, a back-up Elizabeth, and a now-tainted Liz. I felt lost.

Eventually my names settled, as all things do... boobs, houses, men. I was renamed "Lizzy" by my best friend from Mizzou (not associated with the aforementioned "Liz" friends) and finally reowned Liz. Elizabeth finally became a name I chose, as opposed to my backup. I also became at peace with Betsy. It's not such a bad name. Really. Besides, I can't change it. I'll always be "Betsy" to my Grandpa, elementary school enemies, and to that little part of kid that's still in me. Owning these names helped me own all of the "pieces of me," to quote the great philosopher of our times Ashlee Simpson.

In the end, I'll always be "Liz" to some people, "Elizabeth" to most, "Betsy" to those I grew up with...let me clarify: ONLY TO THOSE I GREW UP WITH. And sometimes, like three Saturdays ago, I was Elizabeth, Betsy, and Liz all at one time. I guess that's sorta the point of all this exposition: we all have different personas, characteristics, "names". Well, if we're aren't cardboard cutouts of type personalities. Hopefully, we all change in our lives. I know that I have changed. But all parts of me still influence the whole. Each experience I have lived, good and bad, makes me me. I wouldn't give up my time with either my "good" or "bad" Liz-friends. That "Liz" is part of what makes me who I am now. All of these names make up both "Elizabeth" the name and the person.

Just don't call me "Beth"...

Read More...

Going Around is the New Black

To start off, Harry Potter rocked! It was amazing, even though they did cut stuff out that I like from the book... I honestly can't say anything but good things... Oh and that I have slightly illegal crushes on Harry and Ron. Whew, that was good to get off my chest.

On to other things, like the fact that even though I love to party, meet new people, and go to bars, I'm apparently completely incapable of it. After Harry Potter at the Uptown, 10 of us decided to get a small bite to eat and head out for dancing in Adams Morgan. Perhaps the problem was that there was 10 of us, or perhaps it was the fact that most of us in the party tend to enjoy drinking while playing Atari or Scrabble, but we failed miserably at even getting anywhere near a bar or an alcoholic drink... We kept wandering, then stopping and conferring, then wandering, then getting an idea, then vetoing, then wandering... And finally, we gave up. Some of us bought some empanadas from Julia's on 18th, some of us went across to a coffee place to get hot chocolate, but none of us got wasted or danced or made out with strangers... it was a "failed" night in the city. We didn't go out, we went around.

The moral of this story? Maybe me and my friends are more the home types... or maybe we just don't know too many places in Adams-Morgan... or maybe 10 people should never try to eat somewhere at 10pm on a Saturday in D.C... or maybe we should plan ahead...

Well, whatever the lesson learned, I do know this: empanadas make me happy. Mmmmmm, empanadas.

Read More...

Well, Hell: Part III

Okay, right after I published that last post I got called by the job... and it's official! Nope, not me.

But, the conversation went really well. Since I have already worked for the Archives before in this department, I think that my old boss felt really badly telling me they went with someone else. I'm glad I got a one-on-one call, since the last job I interviewed with, I got a letter saying "this is to inform you that you are no longer under consideration for this position." Nice.

Anyhow, basically they went with someone who had more research experience. I asked what I could do professionally to make myself a more desirable candidate in the future... and her answer? I'm doing great... I have a top-notch portfolio, my interview went fantastic, and I had a wonderful resume... I just need more experience. I just gotta keep doing what I'm doing and one day it'll all fall into place.

So, as disappointed as I am because the department and staff at the Archives is wonderful, at least I know that I got it where it counts... I'm not wasting my time... I just got to get a little bit more than the other great person applying for the job!

Of course, the downside is that I have to get this experience while working in collections and volunteering (as in, no money) in exhibits. As my Grandpa said, "Well, that don't make much sense. How're ya supposed to get the experience if they won't hire you?" Ah, the wisdom of the eldery.

Read More...

Well, Hell: Part II

Okay, so I'm feeling a bit like a big cheek to admit this, but... I am pretty sure my dream job just skipped right over me. I found out last week that they called my references and went on and on about how much I rule, to which my reference replied, "no fucking shit!" Okay, I'm ad libbing, but that was the gist. And then... I hear unofficial rumblings that they have picked someone else. What???!!!!! You only call references when you want to hire someone. Or, in my case, when you want to hire two people and have to decide which one. So basically, I do rule... but just not as much as some other exhibit writing fool.

But, as bummed as I was yesterday, I'm much better today. For one, it's not official yet. For two, if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. There will be more jobs... maybe... sometime... somewhere. Third, I came in second for an amazing job! I don't suck THAT bad. At least I'm getting called, no? Fourth, and most thankfully, I already have a job at the Smithsonian. So I won't have to go live in my '87 Honda anytime soon. My current contract as been extended, with additional funds and there is a chance of a new project coming through that would mean more full-time work until September '06.

I guess the long and short of it is this: I didn't get the job that I want, but when your fallback is the Smithsonian, how much can a girl really complain?

Apparently, a lot, if you are me. Although, this is quite the optimistic post... So, hats off to me!

Read More...

Well, Hell...

I can't believe that it is already mid-November. Jesus, what the hell happened? I graduated 6 months ago now and am still trying to find permanent employment. As much as I love the Smithsonian, I can't be a contractor for the rest of my career... I need health insurance, for one. Oh yeah, and a paycheck not dependent on someone else filing my invoice. Someone who's completely bored at their job and doesn't really care that I have rent due at the first of the month...

That's about all my life is right now, though... work work work work work and trying to get a job that would be more work. But, my best friend from college is coming up from Lawrence this weekend for the opening of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I can't wait. Yes, I read Harry Potter. In fact, when the last book came out I even went to a train station in Old Towne that had been converted to Platform 9 and 3/4. I am a geek. I never claim to be anything else.

Anyways... Jennipher is coming up and we're going to go see HP at the Uptown and then head out on the town... then home to Arkansas for Thanksgiving...then back to our Nation's capital.

And then, you ask?

Yep, that's right, more work... And I used to complain about school...

Read More...

I admit it...

Okay, I'm finally ready to admit it. I like "Sex and the City." Whew, that was a load off my chest.

See, here's the thing. I had a one-woman boycott of the show because of 2 reasons. One was my ex-roommates' obsession with it and their silly attempts at feeling like somehow the show was like them... statements like, "I'm so Carrie" or "you're just like Samantha" made my stomach turn. My roommates were constantly trying to be a clique and I would have no part. "Sex and the City" was associated with that, sorry Mr. Pavlov's dog.

Second on my list was everyone else's obsession with the show and their trumpeting of its feminism, of its reality, of its link to their lives not living in New York. The show has some feminist elements, it's true. Openness about sexuality, the communities women build with their female friends, conversations about power struggles between men and women in relationships, careers, and sex... but at the core of the show was each of the character's search for a male partner... in the end, each one of them, including Samantha, had been domesticated into a heterosexist relationship. Okay, it's better than most shows at showing female characters, but "feminist"? Definitely not radical, I'll say that. As to the "reality" of the show, I admit it, I've never lived in Manhattan. I can't say if the show's portrayal is realistic or not... but I can say that it seems to me that in a lot of cases these women are parodies of Manhattanites...maybe the show is even partly satire? Finally, I definitely thought the show lacked any diversity in terms of this being "realistic" to women... there were only two main black male characters and they both served as fleeting love interests as opposed to three-dimensional partners. There were only about four black women featured in the show and in all cases, they served to buttress the emotional value of the white characters (Miranda and her crying baby; Carrie after her book opening; Samantha and her lack of racism; "Strong arms" dance teacher). In fact, this would make a good article topic...

But...

I decided to put my money where my mouth was and watch the show and I mean, watch it. Every single episode, in order, over the course of a month. Which, of course, is how I know roughly how many African-Americans were featured, you naysayers. And you know what? I like the series... I really do. If you stop kidding yourself about its social value and just watch it, you'll find a good romantic comedy about men, friends, and shoes. It often has a simple plot, with somewhat three-dimensional characters who are sometimes touching and sometimes stereotypical... but, in the end, I'm as much a sucker for a romance (and shoes) as the next person...

So there, I reneg, kinda. I still have the same critiques, but I'm able to get off my high-horse long enough to want Big and Carrie to make it.

PS I'm a mix between a Miranda and a Carrie. You know you couldn't wait until I told you.

Read More...

I'm a loner and I carry a duffel bag.

My husband is with some of his guy friends watching Episodes I, II, and III tonight, which means tonight is a girl's night. By myself. And with some pizza and beer and episodes of Undeclared. An amazing night. I've recently decided that the key to happiness is the ability to enjoy being by yourself and I don't mean that in a dirty way, people. When you don't need other people to make you happy, to entertain you, to validate you, that's when you're in a good place.

So, on that note, I'm off to my girl's night. Alone.

Read More...

Dirty Hippie and Her Prom Queen

So Halloween has come and gone and man was it a blast. The past two years I have gone all out for my costumes. In 2003 I was Tammy Faye Bakker, with fake eyelashes, suntan colored hose, pink suit-set and all. Last year, my compadre and I were Venkman and Stantz, complete with homemade proton packs that shot silly string and jello shot slime. This year I really just wanted to do something from my closet... thus, the high school dirty hippie. You got skirt pant, ethnic necklace, nose ring back in, all my earrings, baggie shirt, birks and tattoos. I know, I know, it might seem like I'm making fun of high school and college friends, but I'm not. Really. I just needed a costume!

Anyhow, we waited outside this club for about an hour, sobered up, played the alphabet game with Howard the Duck, went inside and danced until Maeve's corset from her wench outfit couldn't dance anymore.

Read More...

So sleepy...

I had my interview downtown today and it went really well, I think. The best thing so far about the interview is what happened with my portfolio. I went into Kinko's last night to print out my portfolio in color, so that I could bring some of my exhibit labels for them to keep. Well, when I went back to Kinko's to pick up the prints, the employee there asked if he could make a copy of my exhibit, "The Wanderers: Creators of a Russian Idiom." Apparently, he had started reading it and hadn't had a chance to finish! How great is that? Makes me feel better about my ability to create compelling and accessible labels, even on obscure Russian art groups. Writing labels is a lot harder than it looks and apparently I don't suck! Yay me!

I am going to go nap now. It's amazing how tired you can get after something like an interview. It's like I've been prepping for a marathon all week.

PS I didn't get to see Rosa Parks because of my interview and I am very sad. I wanted to pay my respects to this magnificent woman. Thank God Congress realized that they should too and laid her in honor in the Capitol.

Read More...

Told you so...

I was right and so is he, but I am definitely not gloating.

Read More...

Old and Drunk

I recently had a conversation with my best friend from Mizzou about how our bodies don't snap back as quickly after drinking. When I was in college (and I admit, before I was legal), I could drink several days in a row and still get up for my 8am class bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. In archaeology field school, all you do is drink heavily, for Christ's sake. Our motto was PBR me ASAP and in North Dakota, what else are you supposed to do? But the next morning, I would get up and dig in the dirt for 8 hours with not a hint of a hangover.

And now, you ask? I go to a wedding, get scholshed on white wine and I don't feel like myself until the middle of the next week... So what does this mean? That I'm getting old? That I did so much damage to my body while in college that I can't handle it now? Or is it that when you now run 2.5 miles three to four times a week, your body really wants the poison out? Can being healthier make you less able to handle booze?

Well, regardless, I'm going to raise my glass to all you other mid-twentyites who are feeling the ache like me tomorrow night. And yes, that glass will have booze in it!

Read More...

Lesser of Evils?

Harriet Miers has withdrawn her nomination to the Supreme Court today. The official line is that she cannot prove her record without the President releasing "privileged" administration records. Now, that is scary enough on its own... that Bush refuses to have an open and accountable administration, one not ashamed to release documents pertaining to his personal counsel. Okay, Hitler, whatever you say.

The scarier thing for me, though, is that I think Miers partly withdrew because of the conservative backlash. This born-again, anti-choice Evangelical Bush buddy isn't far enough to the right? Are you kidding me? What this means is that though we might have been saved from a Bush buddy, we will now most likely have a nominee from Aryan Nations. Okay, I know that's exaggerating, but how can Bush risk offending the right amidst Cheney's illegal leak, the debacle of Katrina/Wilma, and the death toll in Iraq passing 2000? He can't. So buckle down folks, 'cause I think Miers was the Wicked Witch of the East and we're about to get the Wicked Witch of the West.

Read More...

When it rains, it pours...

Well, I'm back from Boston and man was it cold!!!! I mean, BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! But, I am happy to report that the interview went smashingly and I'm very excited about the projects I would be getting to work on. Because it's at a federal institution (I can't say which, because I don't want to jinx anything... but I will say I would get to meet Senator Kennedy if I get the job there), the staff has to make a recommendation to the overall HR team in St.Louis, who in turn yays or nays the person. So, at the earliest, it would be next week before I heard anything.

But that's okay, because I have another interview on Monday the 31st. This job is for writing/researching exhibitions at the National Archives, where I used to work as a graduate student. I would be on a more direct course to a curatorial position than if I got the job in Boston, which is a very collections care oriented position. Regardless, though, I am so lucky to be getting a chance at both of these jobs. The collection in Boston is so diverse--it ranges from costumes, to ethnographic, to photographs, to prints, to dec arts, to documents. The projects are also very cool and the institution has plans to build a new on-site collections storage facility in the next five years, which is very exciting. The job here in DC would also be with an exciting collection, albeit mostly documents...but when you're working with the Emancipation Proclamation, you can't just call it "paper" can you?

This is going to be a long couple of weeks and perhaps a really big decision to make between the Metro and the T. By the way, what kind of silly name for a subway is that? Oh yeah, and the people in Boston are way nicer than some of the people in DC. I think the idea that Yanks are unfriendly is just Southern propaganda... The "cold" thing is true though, that's for damn sure.

Oh yeah, and one final thing... I definitely think my interview went well because of this playlist that one of my favorite peeps in the world compiled just for me! Erik, you going to make me a sequel?

Read More...

Beantown and the "T"

I'm going to Boston this weekend for a job interview and I'm super excited. I've had some other nibbles here in DC, but I'm not against a move. Sure, I ADORE my friends here. A girl couldn't ask for better folks to play "Scrupples" with, that's for sure. Even if they do always give me the bleeding heart liberal questions... because I am a bleeding heart liberal. And DC is a great city. But, I've haven't been to Boston in years and I'm looking forward to spending some time there as an adult. If all works out, perhaps a move to Beantown is in my future. Time for cold winters, for calling the Metro the "T", and, for the first time in my life, living outside of the South (yes, mid-Missouri, you're as Southern as fried okra, whether you admit it or not!)... Don't worry, I'm not putting the cart before the horse; I know that jobs are hard to get at the place I'm interviewing.

If it goes well, expect another post. If not, let's just pretend this never happened and I was just going on a mini-break with my husband...

Read More...

Evil

So, because of a recent encounter with some frenemies, I've been thinking about the term "evil." Many of us use that word to describe people that we don't like. All of us, for instance, probably have at least one "evil ex-roommate." Democrats often refer to Bush as "evil." Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, and Mussolini are all "evil" dictators. And to use Bush's unique words, terrorists are "evil-doers."

But is "evil" really the correct word? Now, don't think that for one second I am excusing the actions of any of the persons mentioned above. Each of them, to varying degrees, have committed morally reprehensible acts that betrayed friends, whole peoples, or the very nature of humanity. But here's the issue: these people should be accountable for their actions, for their choice to commit these acts. "Evil" has a sense of absolute, of innate nature, of supernatural and infinite essence. Evil is as it is; it is born not made. When we apply that term our ex-friends, ex-boyfriends, crazy in-laws, or despots like Hitler, are we using the same logic as anti-Semitics use to justify the extermination or discrimination of Jews? Jews, according to such disgusting people, are an inherently evil, base, and inhuman people just because they are. Are we saying, then, that Hitler was just born the way he was? That his actions were inevitable? No, of course not! Hitler, Stalin, terrorists, and Bush should be held accountable for the actions that they choose to make.

I'm not really sure what my point is with all of this... Or if there even is one... Maybe I just feel that we should be more aware of the impact the type of words we use has on our perceptions of people.. Of course, I am usually full of crap and half-thoughts... "Evil" might not even really have the linguistic implications that I think it does... I could just be really bored and filling my time with bad philosophical rants.

And maybe for some people, such as Hitler, there really is no other word that can truly describe their essence and actions than "evil."

Besides "evil ex-roommates" has such good alliteration, doesn't it?

Read More...

Oops... the Duggars Did it Again!

and Again and Again and Again...

For those of you who aren't blessed enough to know of the Duggars, they are a Northwest Arkansas family (where I grew up) who have 16 children. Yep, that's right. As of 6:30am this morning, the Duggar brood numbers 16. And what's most interesting/scary/mind-boggling/weird/pickwhateverwordyouwant is that every child's name begins with the letter J. I'm not kidding. There's Joshua, 17; John David, 15; Janna, 15; Jill, 14; Jessa, 12; Jinger, 11; Joseph, 10; Josiah, 9; Joy-Anna, 8; Jeremiah, 6; Jedidiah, 6; Jason, 5; James, 4; Justin, 2; Jackson Levi, 1; and now Johannah. And their dad's name? You guessed it, Jim Bob. Poor mom, her name is Michelle. She's so left out. Other than the fact that she's birthing a baby every 9 months. And according to Jim Bob, they are ready to start for another, if God blesses them again. I quote: "We both just love children. I have asked Michelle if she wants more, and she said yes, if the Lord wants to give us some she will accept them."

I first became aware of the Duggars when Jim Bob ran for US Senate in 2002. He had previously been elected as a state representative by the good people of NW Arkansas and dreamt of bigger and better things. So, he sent a card to EVERYONE in the mail, knowing in his heart that the people of Arkansas would embrace him.



Now many of you are thinking, well of course Arkansas would LOVE this guy! I mean, look at his nice, Christian family... Look at how they are combating the falling white birth rate singlehandely! Look at their matching outfits--they must be a great jug band! Arkansans love jug bands like they love fried chicken, right? Sadly, too many of you have an incorrect idea of Arkansas and it's constintuents. Yes, the majority of Arkansans (I'm not speaking for myself, of course, being a socialist and all) love white, Christian men with strong values who tend toward the conservative side. Or are Bill Clinton. But there is such a thing as going too far for us and the Duggars do that... in more than one way. Wink wink, hint hint, say no more.

Don't believe me, the Arkansan expatriate living in D.C.? Well, here's the viewpoint from an Arkansas blog:

Oh lordy, I tried my best to pass up this blog....just let it go.....leave it be. But it's just simply too delicious. First all, my 2 kids just love the Duggar's, or at least the concept of a Duggar. They regularly scan the news, looking for something new, usually of the flesh variety, at the Duggar Barracks.

They use the name to describe many as in, the dog has fleas as thick as Duggar's. Or we have enough cookies to feed the Duggar's. The term Duggar used to mean 15, which came off as , how much money will it cost, hon? Duggar's daddy, so I'd know to spool out 15 bucks. Now I'll have to keep a bunch of 1's around in order to hand out 16 bucks.

Also if my wife and I disappear upstairs one of the kids will holler Duggar at us when we come back down. Man, I wish! And it made getting our oldest girl on birth control pills last month easier by reasoning that it would be best for our family if she didn't goof up and Duggar by accident. We tell her she'll have lots of time to Duggar in the future. Duggaring is natural, Duggaring is good, not everybody does it, but everybody should.

And we remind her that to be a good parent means at least 20 years of care and worry 24/7 for each Duggar. Let's see, 16 times 20 = 320 years. ...Hope Michelle takes her vitamins, she's got to live a long long time. And honestly, what's one more kid after you have 15? I say give the ole girl a few days to rest up and then let's get those legs back up in the air. My new motto is Make Duggar's, Not War!

So, what's the moral of this story? That Arkansans are just like the rest of the country thinks we are--dumb, ignorant, racist, Christian freaks with Pentecostal hair and matching doilie dresses? Yes, but at least we, including our most famous native son Bill Clinton, Duggar a lot!

For those of you who are interested in learning more about the Duggar way of life, here is a link to the family's website. They will even answer your yearning questions! Or you can just watch them on the Discovery Channel or the Learning Channel. Yes, they have shows about their life.

God, no wonder people make fun of Arkansas.

Read More...

Book and Cook

Since I'm not in school and I have a husband who isn't a big reader, I have a longing to talk about books with people. So, I formed a Book and Cook club and we had our first meeting last night. It began with a rousing viewing of America's Next Top Model and ended with gorging ourselves on cupcakes. In the middle, of course, was the book discussion. We read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon. Really excellent read written from the first-person perspective of a 15-year-old boy with Asperger's autism. What I liked best about the book was the way that it humanized people with different realities. Normally, if you saw a person groaning and flipping out on the street, you would probably think, "what an awful little brat." But this book really shows how we all cope differently and some of us just break down. I mean, really, who hasn't wanted to throw a temper tantrum or hide in a cabinet at one time or another? As someone with an anxiety disorder, I admit that I sometimes can't cope and act out. I become a turtle and hide in my shirt or under a pillow. It happens to us all, at least the feeling does. And this book provided dialogue for that.

On another note, Lisa on America's Next Top Model is definitely a boozer. Not to mention a lazy eye... Great entertainment!!!

Read More...

Mr. Smithson and Fugly Friends

So, some good news! My contract was extended at the Smithsonian. Thanks, Mr. Smithson, for providing me with the funds to pay back my student loans! I also just found out that I made the first cut for this job I really want in Boston.

On to other news.

At my job, I scan historical scientific illustrations. This means that I have lots of time to browse the internet while the scanner does what scanners do, which is scan. I've recently become OBSESSED with several celebrity gossip sites. I get to look at great pictures that have minimal captions... unlike US Weekly, which requires me to spend so much time READING. Sheesh. One site, Popsugar, updates so regularly that I can actually check more than once a day. Junk-Feud has hilarious captions... But my favorite, I think, is GoFugYourself. GoFugYourself is dedicated to cataloguing the atrocious fashion choices of celebrities... the sad thing is that I like a lot of the stuff that they hate. Sigh. There goes my dream of a Hollywood career!

Finally, I've also been wasting my time with Friendster. I LOVE it! I've found several friends I had lost contact with and I get to write little diatribes about myself. It's all about amassing as many friends/acquaintances as you can so everyone thinks that you rock. The down side is that people you lost on purpose can find you. Oh well, that still gives me something to do why my Trout scans at 600dpi.

Read More...