Eight years later...

watch this one first:



and this one second:

Scott McClellan

Yes, that Scott McClellan is endorsing Barack Obama.

*thud* goes the sound of Renée falling face-first onto the floor.

I still think he's a dirt bag and I don't entirely agree that any this post press secretary book writing and Democrat endorsing absolves him of lying to the American people for four years, but I suppose everybody's allowed a change of heart. Even if it's too little too late and the war's still on.

Regarding undecided voters

“I look at these people and can't quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention? To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. "Can I interest you in the chicken?" she asks. "Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it? To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked."

- Author David Sedaris, on undecided voters

I never think up the good ones.

No doubt they're mine

My Girl: Oooh! The Situation Room!

Me:

My Girl: What?

Me:

My Girl: I just love the news okay?

Me: I don't know how I feel about this.

An October Surprise

has nothing do with political scandals or major league baseball ‘round these parts.

I spent three days in Tennessee sipping weak coffee and strong sweet tea, eating piles of barbecued pork that melted in my mouth as easily as the waitress’ sweet Southern twang draped itself over my ears, and looking out across the Smoky Mountains, wondering if this New England girl could ever fit within the confines of Southern expectations.

It wasn’t home. But it was real nice. And I mean reeyal nahhce. Nice enough to make me want to go back someday for a little more of that sugared-up hospitality and tasty, rib-sticking food.

But this is home.

Home Snowy Sweet Home.

Just because she can

The stalks have dried and the seed pods have dropped into the ground for next spring's bloom, and yet my yellow lily, who normally blossoms and shows off mid June, has decided to give one last mid October hoorah.

I have never seen her act so boldly! But waiting only three months instead of an entire winter to smell her fragrance again was lovely.

I just hope she's not going senile because I'm sure next year's pansies will be fairly particular about who they share a bed with.

We all have triggers

and there's nothing like a good article on child-directed marketing to set mine off. My 15 regular readers already know full-well who I am and what I believe in so the rant directly beneath you isn't anything you haven't already heard me spew. Sorry for not talking about anything new. We're all sick with the creeping crud here and I've got to vent my frustrations somewhere. :D

There can be no further rock-bottom in parenting than allowing our children to be sexualized.

Objectified.

Glorified.

I believe with all my maternal instincts, that because we allow little girls and by proxy, little boys, to not only receive sexual messages but to receive approval for accepting these sexual messages, we are devastating an entire generation of human beings. Maybe you're thinking “How could a parent, a very capable parent, a parent who unconditionally loves and nurtures their child approve of sexualization? You’re just being a judgmental bitch again Renée.” It’s not that I believe most parents advocate and endorse these messages consciously. I think many loving parents just accept pop culture because it’s easy and it makes their kids happy. It’s pop. It’s normal. It’s regular. It’s what we’re told our kids are into these days. Like a colony of rats running in circles towards the same hunk of moldy cheese because it's what we've been told to do.

I’m not exempt.

My older kids could live, breathe and eat Disney’s Pirates of The Caribbean. Don’t think it doesn’t piss me off and frustrate me. Don’t think I don’t scrutinize the melodramatics of Kiera Knightley’s very nubile, stick-thin character. My daughter now covets and begs for posters of Johnny Depp portraying the suave Captain Jack Sparrow. My daughter’s watched many of the Disney Princess movies – classic stories we’re told, of helplessness and heroism that colorfully silence our daughters’ sense of worth if she is without Prince Charming. A must-have each holiday season as the latest digitally re-mastered DVD makes its way from the Disney vault. I bought into it for years and I can only allay my guilt be a better mother by re-learning how to parent without the excessive exposure. And I still struggle to find a common ground with my children, a happier medium between a pop culture void of individualism but bursting with total glorification of the mayhem and spoon-fed marketing. Hannah Montana clothing and cosmetics? Why not? Just don’t check out Miley Cyrus’ Myspace profile. HSM 1! 2! 3? For the love of puppies, how many years in a row do these kids get to go to prom and why are six-year-olds wearing pretty shirts with Zac Efron’s steamy gaze on them? The Fantastic Four may be rated PG-13 but that’s not really significant. As long as the movie figurines make their way into the Happy Meals that are likely consumed by the ten and under crowd, consider it a job well done. I get a niggling feeling that they didn’t cast Jessica Alba for her outstanding acting skills.

We’re drowning our kids in it and it’s fucking freaking me out.

Although presumably benign (it’s just a little bit of lipstick and nice set of hips Mum), the pop culture of Bratz dollz encourages those subliminally mixed messages to become normal wiring in the highly suggestible brains of an entire generation. All I know is that generation = a really big number. For so SO long I fought having any meaningful inner dialogue with myself on this issue because Oh Em Gee! Bratz are adorable! So sparkly, painted, bendy and new. Those shoes with that lipstick shade? A perfect match. And those evocatively charming tops are exactly what my husband would want to see me wearing the next time we go parking. And Barbie dolls are socially accepted, so why not these newer, more tween-intended dolls? Why could I never get onboard with the Bratz? Why did I get so angry inside if ever my little daughter showed any amount of interest in them? Why did they terrify me? The answer was always so blatantly obvious but recognizing it was too painful, too real. There was always something about the Bratz that made my inner little girl plug her ears, squint her eyes and yell LA LA LA LA LA LA LA. I can’t hear you.

More than anything in this world, I’m afraid for my daughter to be sexualized before she’s ready. That’s the reason.

But as with all progress, the sometimes hopeless voice of dissent refuses to shut its damned mouth and we slowly evolve.

Bratz banned from Scholastic book clubs and fairs.

I KNOW, RIGHT? It's about goddamned time an educational corporation woke the hell up from its bureaucratically-induced coma and advocated for our children.

Now if only Santa would bring me an inauguration speech from Obama too, then all my peppermint Christmas wishes will have come true.

A hilariously literal translation

on my theme song. You'll appreciate the 80's even more.

It's a silent endorsement

from John McCain towards this kind of behavior.


The fundamental, religious nut-jobs can only hold back their own self-loathing, bible-fueled emotional repression and control issues so long before they explode at the real possibility of a bold black man, a strong black woman and two beautiful black girls living in the White House.

It ain't right they say.

He's an Arab they say.

Somebody needs to kill him they say.

With a hopeful victory so closely within America's grasp, the true nature of social conservatism and the fundamental Christian religion slithers its way between the feet of McCain's rally-goers and coils itself around the podium, spewing venomous hatred, bigotry and anger.

These kinds of people truly exist and will harm Barack Obama if given a hair-line crack in the window of opportunity.

The somber irony of the Right Wing Christian (actual) Rules versus much of the Right Wing Christian (actual) Behavior is a stark paradox. They'll preach it until things don't go their way. And then their bibles will close as the gut-wrenching ferocity and wrath from years of oppression will hunt you down, spit bloody rage in your face and drag you for miles behind its truck.

All in Jesus' name.

I hope I'm doing it for the right reasons.

oh SNAP!

Is there actually a rationally thinking human amongst us who actually thought she didn't abuse her power? Is that you, Captain Obvious? I thought you looked familiar…..

On a grateful, more unanticipated note, I received a most welcomed shout-out tonight. I suppose when I normally think of a UPS driver in my area, I’m reminded of a hard working, blue collar guy. A man satisfied with a simpler way of life, as many people in this area of Maine tend to be. The kind of man you might see sitting front row at a Jeff Foxworthy HBO comedy special perhaps. I’d expect to hear country music humming from within his dependable brown truck and I’d expect to see his bottom lip protruding slightly, somewhat concealing the wad of tobacco chew that keeps him focused as the holiday shipping season begins. I’d assume he enjoys the same typical winter sports as Todd Palin, therefore he’d most likely identify with him on some fundamental level, or so I’d assume.

And just as he hands over another of my early holiday packages, he politely shifts the tobacco off to the side of his mouth and quietly asks where I found my Obama '08 sign. He tells me that they’re $8 online and maybe I know where to find them discounted? He wonders if maybe I’d know where the Democratic office is around here? I’m too bowled over with appreciation to even remember that I have an extra sign in my garage. I’m too embarrassed by the prejudices I hold against the people in my area, the very types of behavior I find so appalling in many of the opposing party’s members, but apparently prejudices that aren’t limited to one group of people at all - prejudices that exist collectively whether or not we openly admit them.

Mr. UPS, you saw the Obama ’08 sign in my window and you said to me, “I’m glad you guys are on my team.”

I don’t even know your name sir, but I will find out. And I will hand you my extra sign. And then I will shake your hand, your hard working, blue collar hand that tunes the radio dial to the local country station and tunes a snowmobile engine during the winter.

I’m glad to have you on my team too.

Be still my heart.

Stumbling upon the scattered pages of my little girl’s notions and finding her intimate preferences so adorably illustrated was nothing short of enchanting. As I giggled and appreciated this chance to peek inside my daughter, most of my occasional hesitations or uncertainties were quelled. My ideals are good enough for her to accept and, more significantly, believe in.

I grabbed my camera, took the picture and ran upstairs to kiss her head, only to have her pull away because I was messing up her perfectly positioned bangs. I didn’t even care.

(click on picture)

Liberal Democratic Cowboys??

*swoon*

VP Debate '08 live blogging...

Sarah, a "quasi-cave-in" isn't a furry creature found only in the remote mountains of Alaska. Just sayin'.

Sarah, again, "walk-the-walk" and "talk-the-talk" are overused. How about "gallop-like-a-giddy-school-girl" and "talk-without-that-nasally-midwestern-accent?" Just a thought.

And Sarah? Don't threaten us by with fear about "losing our freedom in only one generation." Not cool.

Big word used by Biden: certitude

And me without my dictionary.

VP Debate '08 live blogging...

Cheney is dangerous and a master of invention Joe, right on.

Sarah, kindly shut up about your "world view." Are you referring to your world view of when you look up and see Putin flying over Alaska on his way home to Russia?

Egads. She even snarls like Cheney. Hold me Mama.

VP Debate '08 live blogging....

Um, no Sarah. No we don't need any Wasilla Main St. influence. I'm good, really.

And for those of us watching CNN? Rollins needs a jelly donut shoved into his conservative piehole. He's padding the analyst numbers. Nothing she's said yet was worth that ten point jump he added.

And Sarah? The Vice President breaks a Senate tie. Just thought you might want to know considering how gracefully you skip-roped over that question.

VP Debate '08 live blogging....

I like the way Biden looks as though he wants to yank those porno librarian glasses off her face and remind her that "the surge" isn't "the war." THREE WEEKS DOESN'T EXPUNGE SIX YEARS. Unless we're using the Alaskan calendar - which is entirely plausible.

When Palin says "oh man, it's so obvious I'm a Washington outsider" what she really means is "oh shit, I have no idea what you're talking about Joe because I really don't have any political leadership experience other than my short term as Alaskan governor. So I'm going to just repeat these here talking points that John wrote down on this here peice of paper. We can see Russia from our front lawns." Then she bats her drawn-on eyebrows and winks at Bill Clinton, who's sitting in the front row, holding Hillary back.

VP Debate '08 live blogging...

Number of times Palin's blinked long and thoughtfully: 72

Number of Palin's wide, doe-eyed stares into the camera while saying "friends": 593

Number of times Biden smiled frustratedly because he just wanted to scream "look bitch! I've been fighting against this war for almost six fucking years! You've just recently been prepped and informed about what's been going on in Iraq over the past three days while chilling on McCain's ranch in Arizona!": 684