Friday, November 28, 2008
What the HELL??
Wal-Mart worker dies after shoppers knock him down
They broke down the damned doors. What the HELL??? It's damned Wal-Mart. The same plastic crap will be there tomorrow, I promise. And if it's not, wait until next Tuesday when they restock!
"He was bum-rushed by 200 people," co-worker Jimmy Overby, 43, told the Daily News. "They took the doors off the hinges. He was trampled and killed in front of me. They took me down too. ... I literally had to fight people off my back."
Gods know, they aren't going to be able to prosecute anyone for this. Sure, there will be store video, but how are you going to track down all the people who just WALKED OVER a man in their rush to get some cheap t-shirts or Hannah Montana videos or whatever the hell else they were looking for. How the hell do you walk over a man? How do you not stop and help? How do you just go on, tossing stuff in your basket, while police and EMTs are showing up to try to get this man some help? What is wrong with your head? ARG!
Sunday, November 23, 2008
I love New Orleans
Yesterday, I went down with some friends for my friend Annette's birthday party. We left around noon and didn't get home until midnight. Ha.
So, we went to this place that you MUST go if you're in New Orleans. Cafe au Clay (they do not appear to have a Web site or I'd link you up). It's just awesome. For $6 plus the price of whatever object you pick, you can paint and have glazed and fired your own pottery. Most of the pieces average around $6 to $10. The most expensive thing I saw was $30, but it was an honest-to-goddess statue that most people aren't gonna want to paint anyway.
So, we got there around 2 p.m. and didn't leave for four hours. It was so. much. fun. I painted a present for Emmy (and no! I will not tell you what it is, Emmy, so no asking), a Christmas ornament for my grandmother and a really cute butterfly dish for ME. Yes. Me. I'm selfish that way.
Seriously, I haven't had so much fun in ages. They bring you all the paint you can want, you just do whatever you want with the colors and the finishes and it's just amazing. The people are really friendly. The proprietor is from Melbourne and at least one of their workers is from Brazil, so you get all kinds of stories and they're very willing to help you with design ideas. There were five of us and we got to play like little kids. We brought a cake and drinks and the staff was really great about all that. So, if you're in New Orleans with an afternoon to kill, you must go. Our pieces will be all fired and glazed by next week, so we'll be going down again to pick them up. If I can, I'll be going down to get them with Annette and we can play again! Yay!
Also, we went to this restaurant -- Jamila's. Oh. My. God. The food was soooo good. It's a Tunisian place, so I wasn't sure about the food. But that was stupid. Because it was SO good. I had baked salmon, in this delicious cheese/wine/cream/mustard sauce that was divine. It came with steamed veggies that were delicious too. We have these philo-dough things stuffed with potato, tuna, shrimp and garlic. Oh. So good. And they give you lots of bread with this garlic and parsley butter. Nommy!
My meal only came to about $20, so really, you can't beat it. Plus, the people who run the place were just so friendly and nice. There was also a bellydancer. I highly recommend it.
Suzan's Nommy Veggie Pasta Sauce
1 can o'diced tomatoes
Mustard -- I used stone ground, but use whatever ya like.
Salt, pepper, other seasonings
Cook down the onion, garlic, squash and zucchini in a little olive oil. Cook 'em as long as you like. I like my veggies a touch on the soft side, but if you like 'em firmer, is all good. I drop a touch of butter -- REAL butter -- in the whole mix for flavor. Not too much butter, just a good pat or so.
When you've got the onion, etc. all cooked down as much as you want, toss in the can of tomatoes. I pour in about half the liquid. Not all of it, because too much will make it too thin. So...get all the veggies together, cook 'em a bit and then add the cream and mustard. (OK, actually I mixed the cream and mustard together beforehand, but whatever ya like. Just make sure you get the mustard and cream in there, k?)
So, everything is all mixed together and cooking up a nomminess. Add flour if you need to thicken it up. Pour over your favorite pasta and be amazed!
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Because I'm a poet before all else. . .
We are flickers of light at the edge of vision,
A pause for breath between notes, easily missed,
Scribbled down in discordant key, with pagenotes
reminding the author to correct us later.
If the sound makes you pause, cry, reconsider --
if it makes you question the reasons behind your assumptions --
Do we remember that we are all dust?
Can we see, for a moment, the lifeblood
of long dead stars
Internal novas burning and fueling,
Spilling out of hands and feet and lips and eyes,
Tracing lines of DNA and heritage
from me to you to me to you to. . .
The space between the heartbeat we share.
If the sound makes you cry -- if it makes you question --
A truth is -- nothing passes from existence
A truth is -- we all dissolve into nothing
We cycle, cycle, remembered, forgotten
Smoldering, blazing, saved only by our tethers Here
To this blood that cannot forget
To this blood that is our witness:
We were and now are gone.
If the sound makes you reconsider -- if it makes you question --
At an end of it all, we find a beginning.
We follow lines of DNA and heritage backward,
back into bits of me in you and you in me
and transcendence and ressurection and
connection and comprehension.
There's no need for correction
-- the discordant is correct.
The pause is the point.
I'm posting this a day early, in case anyone is looking for an event to go to. There's a list of events around the world at that site.
This is not an easy post for me to write. It should be, because I believe deeply in the power of saying things outloud. I believe in the power of naming -- speak your fear and it can no longer control you. Give voice to your grief and it can no longer destroy you. But the truth is, I'm crying as I write this. Not only because so many good, decent people have died. I'm crying because I know that my sweet, amazing, gentle Emmy could be on that list one day and I cannot imagine being able to survive that.
I will never understand what motivates someone to kill another human being when their life is not in danger. I will never understand what it is inside someone that makes them pick up a weapon instead of simply walking away. I will never understand how human life can have so little value to some people. But I know that there are people in this world, far too many people, who can kill. Who can pick up a gun or a knife or a rock and strike out. For what? Because someone doesn't meet your expectations? Because they live their life in a way you don't approve of? Which god tells you that you can do that? Which god gives you permission? And how can the world, how can so many otherwise decent people, simply nod and say 'well, what did you expect? Not guilty!'?
I think of the families of those who have been killed. I think of them and I cry, because how do you cope with the knowledge that the world thinks it's OK to kill someone you love? How do you live with the knowledge that your neighbors and co-workers and the people who sit beside you every day on the way to work think that your daughter deserved to die? How do you ever have faith in anything, anyone again? How does the world ever make sense again?
It's far too easy for those who are not intimately involved to forget. Because it's too horrible to remember. It's too horrible to let yourself realize that yes, human life is so very very cheap to so many people. It's too horrible to let yourself realize that maybe YOU contribute to that attitude. But we cannot forget. We let these killings go unchallenged, unpunished -- a slap on the wrist is not a punishment. Finding a killer not-guilty because they freaked out over finding out their girlfriend had a penis is not justice. It's not acceptable. Full stop.
Sunday, November 09, 2008
River says. . .
I loves my Mommy sooo much. And I know she loves me too, because I am her onlyest boy cat. I has to live with lots and lots of girl cats, but is ok because I am the king. See my face? I even has a ruff like a lion! But I'm much, much prettier. I snuggle with my Mommy when she is sad cause Mommy Emmy had to go back to some place Mommy calls 'stupid, stupid Austrailia'. I not like this Awstrayla. I think I'll get Rain to hunt it down and bit it's neck. I loves my Mommy sooo much that I suck on her shirt and kneed little biscuits in her neck and she just snuggles me and says "Oh, River. You silly silly boy." I loves Mommy soooo much that me and Rain put on the Cat Show every day to make her smile, running all over the house and jumping on stuff and attacking poor poor Molly.
Aren't I a good, sweet pretty boy?