Rant:

... Radio DJs who play U2's "Sunday, Bloody Sunday" every freakin' Sunday!! Yes, we get it -- the song says Sunday and today is Sunday. You're very clever. Now play something else, please.

Deep Thoughts

Does anyone else find it disconcerting that the blog spell checker doesn't recognize the word "blog"?

Just wondering ....

Antedated Post

Sometimes it takes me awhile to draft and edit a post. Especially if the subject matter is something I feel passionately about, I can spend days pondering exactly how to phrase a sentence so that it says precisely what I want it to say. (Ok, so what .... I'm a perfectionist with OCD tendencies!)

When my opus is finally complete, I generally change the date so that it appears as the newest post on the blog, and I feel all warm and fuzzy for having posted recently. However, as with the post I just published, sometimes the subject matter is date sensitive, and it would throw everything all out of whack to have it published out of order. And that would be unacceptable! (See above OCD reference.)

All this is to say that I just posted on September 27. My first political post (hey, you can't live in Washington and remain neutral!) Read if you want, comment if you wish. But most importantly, have a great day today ... TGIF! Woo-hoooooo!!!

66 SUCKS

Extra bonus kudos to the bright soul who penned the above moniker for use as his vanity license plate. As I and (approximately) 82,874 of my closest friends faced the hellacious eight lanes of bidirectional traffic that is Northern Virginia's Interstate 66, I spotted this plate and smiled. I (almost) didn't even mind that the driver was shooting his car across two lanes of traffic without using a turn signal. There, in plain stamped metal, was the manifestation of a thousand thoughts: 66 SUCKS. Nice alliteration, to boot!

Just for the Blog of it

Really nothing new to report, but I haven't posted in awhile so I'm logging on to say "booyah!"

I had a really great weekend. I DIDN'T WORK!!! ...Not a single day -- didn't carry the pager, didn't call to check in, didn't deal with a single work-related issue. Life, like the weather, was grand.

I went pumpkin picking on Saturday. I'll admit that I wasn't as jazzed about this as I thought I'd be. I was feeling quite grumpy and recluse when I woke up, but a little preemptive retail therapy cheered me right up. I ran home and changed into an orange v-neck tee and jeans, adorned my toesies with rings, and drove to the pumpkin farm, where I met a group of friends and acquaintances. I came home with the ass-kickingest pumpkin EVER!

Sunday brought with it more shopping (found an awesome coat at Nine West - yay!, went up a size in Gap jeans - boo!) and a movie. I saw "Lord of War" with Blake. It was higher on drama but lower on action than I expected (although with some impressive gore). I dug it. And I saw a preview for "Jarhead", which intrigued me.

So there you have it: five paragraphs of Life As I Know It.

...Booyah! (Six :D )

Score One for Justice

Cindy Sheehan was arrested ysterday. She wore a huge idiot smirk on her face as police officers physically removed her from the scene. “Hee, hee, hee ... civil disobedience is so much fun ... [Toss of the hair] ... Gee, am I having a blast!” ...As if it was a senior prank.

Hats off to the U.S. Park Police, though. As officers in the spotlight, they know their actions will be scrutinized by their superiors, the general public, and the media brigade. They performed their duties flawlessly.

When the media first introduced me to Sheehan, my heart went out to her. I empathized over what it must be like to lose a loved one to war. I recognized her right to mourn in whatever manner soothed her. As soon as she realized she had the nations’ attention, though, she certainly shed the grieving mother persona and stepped into the role of political activist without batting an eye.

I am ashamed of her on behalf of her son. I would hope, that if I felt called to sacrifice my life for something I believed in, that my survivors wouldn’t turn around and mar my memory by taking a very public stand against it. She dishonors her son as well as his comrades who fought and fell by his side. Nobody hates war more than a soldier. But they are motivated to face that which they hate because they feel called to the duty of defense of their country, a duty which is wholly encompassing… theirs not to reason why. To debate the valiancy of that commitment, to stain the bigger picture their spirits carry, is the worst kind of demoralization, the most belittling insult.


"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat." -- Theodore Roosevelt

Decaffeinated

As I begin my third day of caffeine abstinence, I have two thoughts...
1) its nice that my headache has downgraded from moderate to mild
2) a cup o' java sure would hit the spot right about now