So, I avoid my website for a week, and look what happens: Sarah hijacks my comments for personal use! Alicia complies! Producerboy visits! Tara leaves a comment and does not hate me! Arafat and ODB die in the same week (RIP)! Powell resigns, AND the Green Party gets their act together and
contests the Ohio count!
My week and a half in review (in case anyone besides me cares):
Last-last-Thursday, the Day after the Day after the Election
Deep, dark depression sets in. Life seems pointless. Nothing seems to matter. I spend a lot of time at a website called
CanadianAlternative.com.
Last-Last-Friday
Brad and I have a date at the studio, which really means that we ate gyros from Phonecia, and then I sat on the studio couch and watched cable TV until I couldn't see straight (CNN, MTV, BRAVO... How I've missed you all), and Brad cleaned up stuff and built shelves. I love our dates. We so don't care about stuff like, you know, the date part. It's just nice to be in the same room. Oh, and then at 4 in the morning we were woken up by our upstairs neighbors breaking furniture and screaming drunkenly. It's just really not funny anymore.
Last weekend
I drive to Houston to visit Ryan and Christie and Duke and Bingo and Monkey and Molly and Bailey and ... crap, I forgot the rest of the dogs names. There are a lot of them, trust me. I just wanted to get out of town for a while and lose the election blues, so Ryan and I hung out and did random things like visit the Always-Christmas store in Seabrook, get Pandan Leaf Ice Cream, poke around in Half-Price Books, etc. My mission for the trip home was to visit Ikea and buy bookshelves. Ryan's brother was in town, and when we asked if he wanted to go with us, he looked at us like we were freaks and said, "Um, hello ... I shop at Ethan Allen. Ikea is like, one step above college." Well. I guess that sums up my life in a nutshell. Lucy, one step above college. Except that I didn't finish college, and shopping at Ikea is like, hey - at least it's not the fracking Salvation Army! GAH! Will I ever measure up? Should I pack it up for Canada now? Sweet Jesus, WILL I EVER GET TO SHOP AT ETHAN ALLEN? And if I do, WILL THE ANGELS SING?
Moving on.
The work week
So, the work week always seems to blur together for me. Last week, we went to San Antonio for an event and meeting, and we stopped in New Braunfels to tour the
Museum. Interestingly, they have an exhibit from Lubbock, featuring many blasts from my past. What else? I was tired and grumpy, I remember that part. I listened to Patty Griffin and Elliot Smith on repeat, so that didn't help. Oh, and I wrote some stuff. I'm working on actually updating the writing part of this site, I really am...
This last-just-past weekend
So, to cure the tired and grumpy thing I had going on, I decided to do NOTHING this weekend. Nothing meant having a
Freaks and Geeks marathon with Andreia and Shiloh on Friday, and then... I did so much nothing I can't even remember it all. Saturday, I was flipping through all four of our channels when I happened upon the
ACL episode with Polyphonic Spree. In a flash, I remembered what I had been suppressing: Ozmatli taping! On in thirty minutes! I grabbed my car keys and headed for the market straight away for a bottle of vino, and made it back just in time for Ozo taking the stage. (Side note about Poly Spree: whenever I see Tim DeLaughter, I can't help but think - man, ten years ago, did I ever think he'd be the front man for a group of brightly robed hippies singing feel good music? No. I still halfway expect for him to yell 'CUT!' in the middle of the song, rip off his robe, and start singing "My decision, your decision, there's no common ground - I'm sick and tired myself." Well, good for you, Tim D. You make it good, but you make me crazy crazy with your crazy crazy with your stop the world and slam it down.)
So, Ozomatli. It seems that the reports of our section being in 80% of the crowd shots were slightly exaggerated, although I drank so much wine in the first five minutes out of anxiety that I may not be the best reporter. I actually grabbed Brad's laptop and attempted to real-time blog the episode, but then I only caught maybe one clip of Brad (standing next to producerboy, actually, who is a friend of mine from work, and an actual real-live-fancy-schmancy record producer, even!) and myself, and several shots of my boss rocking her face off. But still, I have to say, it feels good to be famous, if only for one second. (That means I still have fourteen minutes and 59 seconds to go, right?)
Sunday: nothing. N to the O to the Thing. I cleaned the house and played with my cats and read a script by Tim that I promised to read, like, ten years ago. I know, you're shocked, right? Actually, I also watched
Bush Family Fortunes, which arrived via Netflix. I forgot to update my queue, obviously, because watching a documentary about the pervasive evilness of the Bush family is about the last thing I needed to do to relax.
You know, the thing about these documentaries (including
Farenheit 911 and
Bush's Brain, et. al) is that, at some point, people, you have to step it up a notch, okay? I don't like manipulative doom music in my anti-Bush documentaries any more than I like seeing the stupid graphics that say "The Battle of Fallujah" or "Operation: Freedom, My Ass" on Faux News, because BRANDING and LOGOS have no place describing something as complicated and serious as a WAR in which PEOPLE ARE DYING AS WE SPEAK. Please,
Greg Palast, if you are trying to get people to take you seriously, then take off your ugly hat, show off your bald spot with pride, and stop grimacing into the camera, for Big Baby J's sake. GIVE US THE FACTS. They speak for themselves, okay? Don't pander to the dramatics, it only makes all the rest of us seem like conspiracy-theory-looneys, one bong hit away from full meltdown. Please. I NEED SOMETHING AND SOMEONE I CAN GET BEHIND, UNIVERSE. I'LL BE RIGHT HERE WAITING. GET BACK TO ME. STAT.
(Jon Stewart in 2008, anyone? Hell, people, let's fact it - The Terminator is an elected official. In charge of a whole damn state, nonetheless. I think my favorite political commentator from Comedy Central deserves a shot at running the nation, even if his show does follow puppets making crank calls.)
And that concludes my exciting week. What about you? What am I missing in the LBK, in the DFW, in great Northeast? I need to live vicariously through others, y'all.
So, I know I left that depressing election entry up for way too long, but over the week I've amassed several things that I think are worth posting for public consumption. If you are sick of it, just skip this section. If you are interested in the long task ahead of those of us who wish to reclaim our country from the real "evildoers", read on. Stay informed - that's the best thing we can do at this point, right? Well, at least it makes me feel better.
Election Day Footage in Ohio: Did you hear that Michael Moore worked with volunteers around the country to document the polls in swing states? This short-short doc was put together by volunteers in Ohio. I know you like to ignore my links, y'all, but please watch this if it's the only thing you do.
Cartograms of the election results: Carto-wha? A cartogram is a map in which the sizes of states have been rescaled according to their population. If the sea of red and fringe of blue states on the nightly news made you feel sick, take a look. Purple!
BlackBoxVoting.org is a "consumer protection for elections" agency that is investigating fraud in the last election. In fact, they are in Florida RIGHT NOW counting ballots. Crazies. Don't they know that liars only lie more when confronted with their lying lies?
Activism 101: So, you would think that I have "I heart
Pineapple Girl" carved on my desk right now. Maybe I do. The thing is, now she's gone and created a whole page breaking down how to write to your elected officials, and that's just lesson one. Guess what's on my to-do list?
The Meaning of Concession: The Progressive Democrats of America sum up their feelings on conceding elections before the votes are fully counted. Yeah, I feel that.
Love. Peace. Fuzzy Bunnies. I'm going to call Tara now, and beg forgiveness for my suckiness
AGAIN.
Lucy loves you |
