(no subject)

I'm going back in time.

Expect something ranty later, but now I'm going to wait for my doctor's appointment by reading a January 2000 Better Homes & Gardens article about chocolate that's just sitting here.

Ah, January, 2000, what a nice time you were.

(no subject)

So this is a view of the inside of my uterus. Cute little space alien, isn't it?

ETA: And no, we don't know the gender yet. Should know that by mid-December.

Consider this my way of creating one easy-to-link-to Memory...

There is very little original content in this post. It's more of a personal compendium of thoughts - all of which have been said more pointedly, more explicitly or more clearly over the course of the last few hours. There's a rant at the end, but ( first, there's an LJ cut... )

- In the comments or in your LJ, rec a story that you re-read for comfort when you need to feel better because it gives you warm fuzzies and a story (ideally long) that you re-read because you can lose yourself in it.
- More or less gacked from scribbulus_ink via rosesanguina

( Read more... )

And now, for the rant. I don't think I'll be able to speak to my sister's friend Jenny ever again without thinking, "I hate you."

She didn't vote yesterday. Now, I have seen a few people on my flist say they didn't vote for president because they couldn't decide who they'd be willing to see in office, and I understand that. While I think it is important to go to the polls for each election, I don't think it's necessary to vote in every race every single time. And I have at least one more person on my flist who didn't vote, but I've already expressed my displeasure to her, and while I think what she did was incomprehensible to me, for some reason, I find what Jenny did less forgiving.

She didn't vote because she had other things to do. She is planning on sending her oldest to public school next year, but she couldn't be arsed to choose a school board candidate. Her husband is a litigator, and she couldn't be arsed to make a decision about the Full Funding For Insurance Companies amendment to our state constitution. She has lived in this community for twenty eight of her thirty two years, and she couldn't be bothered to choose a mayor, or a state house representative.

If she ever dares complain about anything, she's going to get an earful from me. To keep the peace with my sister, I won't shout at Jenny when I see her this weekend. But someday, I'm afraid, I will. I am disgusted with my age group - the polls show our percentage of voters between 30 and 44 was down this year. What sort of example are they setting for their kids?

The moms I hang out with were all devistated this morning. I've never seen so many pairs of sunglasses covering un-made-up faces. Everyone had red eyes, either from sleeplessness or from crying. Or from both. I'm in the last category. But now, I'm off to play with my kids, and figure out which particular progressive group I want to get involved with. twistedchick posted a list of ten here. If I can make the time, with my two-going-on-three-kids + part time job + community projects I'm already committed to...

And the last song I listened to before I got out of the car today, on the way home from my doctor's visit...

The public gets what the public wants
But I want nothing this society's got -
I'm going underground,
Let the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground,
We'll let the boys all sing and the boys all shout for tomorrow
Some people might get some pleasure out of hate
Me, I've enough already on my plate
People might need some tension to relax
Mem, I'm too busy dodging between the facts
What you see is what you get
You've made your bed, you better lie in it
You choose your leaders and place your trust
As their lies wash you down and their promises rust
You'll see kidney machines replaced by rockets and guns
And the public wants what the public gets
But I don't get what this society wants

We talk and talk until my head explodes
I turn on the news and my body froze
The braying sheep on my TV screen
Make this girl shout, make this girl scream!
Going Underground by Paul Weller (girlified, though)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to start floating a trial balloon for the Barak Obama & Harold Ford ticket in 2008. And if anyone who lived through Britain under Thatcher has any comments to make about my gacking of anti-Maggie songs into this anti-administration context, I'd love to hear it.