kdiddy.org

This weather is just so cruddy!
Argh, I started this update at the wrong time. I have to go to the bathroom, the baby has already pooped, and there's a really stinky pile of laundry waiting for me.
I'll be back later.

I saw A Mighty Wind last night. So friggin' funny. Could have been funnier, but still highly enjoyable.
Afterward, I took the Longest Pee Ever at Ike and Jonah's house. Seriously, I think it's on record somewhere.
I have to get ready to go. But first, Happy Mother's Day to me and any other gals with offspring who might be reading this.

Behind the cut are the letters that were printed in the PG regarding last week's letter that said the Family Circus was, in a nutshell, ass and that the Boondocks was at least more representative of non-mainstream America

What a Circus
So according to William W. O'Donnell, “The Family Circus: Life in the Bubble” (Feedback, May 2) along with Sen. Rick Santorum, is now part of that “bigoted” cabal of “middle class Christians” who want to oppress gays.

Give me a break!

I can think of better reasons to criticize “The Family Circus”, i.e. its tendency to be maudlin, the kids on the strip being cloyingly cute, its lame attempts at humor etc., but to accuse it, as Mr. O'Donnell does, of gay bashing is blatantly insulting!

According to Mr. O'Donnell, “The Family Circus” protects its “viewers from the harsh realities of life on the funny pages” and that “viewing life through the prism of a bubble distorts reality.” May I remind Mr. O'Donnell that viewing life through the prism of a ” 'Boondocks' (or any other politically correct) point of view” is also a distortion of reality.

I think Mr. O'Donnell owes the readers of “the Family Circus” and its creator Bil Keane an apology.

FRANCIS V. BENDER
IRWIN

Not our problem
I wish to rebuke the letter of last week “Family Circus: Life in a Bubble” by William W. O'Donnell. First of all Mr. O'Donnell, there is nothing wrong with “The Family Circus” cartoon; it is enjoyable reading the ups and downs of life through a child's eyes.

But let's get to my total and utter disgust of your letter. Why is it when you gay types want to make a point you attempt to associate yourselves with black people or something connected with blacks — your “we must look at life from a 'Boondocks' point of view.” Oh, really Mr. O'Donnell, and just how did you arrive at this reasoning? For too long whites tend to associate any and everything low, dirty, inappropriate, disgusting and questionable with blacks and it is no different with you gay types.

Let me set the record straight. As a proud black female who believes in holding up standards, morals, decency and standing on ceremony, I'd rather those of you who believe in the gay lifestyle not give yourself a comfort level by categorizing yourselves with the black people. It is not appreciated by me. You are free to live as you like; and Mr. O'Donnell, I am also free and free enough to say I resent blacks being used as an example by you gay types when you wish to make a point, whatever that point may be.

And Mr. O'Donnell as for your “cutesy, white Christian argument” with reference to Sen. Santorum's recent comments; you would be surprised how many cutesy BLACK Christians who feel the exact same way.

JANET LOUISE MARTIN
EAST LIBERTY

The liberal slant
Give me a break. This isn't about “Family Circus” or middle-class Christians, but instead about perpetuating the (dare I say) LIBERAL media's misrepresentation of Sen. Santorum. I suppose Mr. O'Donnell only reads “Boondocks” and only watches “Will & Grace” because they agree with his personal view of what life should be like. Sorry. The rest of us revel in escapism from time to time, even when reading the “funnies.” I personally enjoy watching Disney movies and “Mister Rogers' Neighborhood” with my children. I enjoy their innocence and love of life. That's what I enjoy about “Family Circus.” But that wasn't really your point, was it?

Your point was to continue the idiocy. If you really knew what you were talking about, you'd know that his comments were directly related to a Supreme Court case involving privacy and whether or not adults have the right to do whatever they choose because they are hidden behind closed doors. If privacy is the only criteria you use for making something right, then you have to be willing to accept literally everything — bigamy, polygamy, incest, etc.

His statement was not “bigoted” and does in fact come from a “clear vision” of what many constitutional scholars and the majority of Americans believe that some things should not be permitted even if they are hidden from the outside world.

Like you, Mr. O'Donnell, I welcome his honesty. I'm proud that he represents me and my values. I'm glad he stands up for what he believes and doesn't back down. You and yours would have everyone who doesn't agree with your personal views silenced by screaming “intolerant, bigot, homophobe!” Truth be told, it is you who are intolerant of anyone who doesn't agree. Us “cutesy, middle-class Christians” have just as much right as you to express our views and stand up for what we believe.

Now if you'll excuse me, I want to finish reading the funnies before the children turn on “Sesame Street.”

CANDACE SEIBEL
CLINTON

Letter #1 is pretty bland. If I were to write into the PG about the Family Circus I would just say how much it sucks, that it's been in the paper too long.
Letter #2 utilizes the hilarious phrase “gay types.” I can't say how much that made me giggle. *Margaret Cho voice* “Scott called….IS HE THE GAY?!?!?”
I want to elaborate on how minorities, at this point in time, need to recognize that all of *us* are hated equally as much by the powers that be, but I don't have enough energy at the moment. This woman has her beliefs…okay, whatever…but I doubt that when it comes to down to it, that Bill Keane will have her back.
Letter #3…anyone who doesn't think Rick Santorum is a total twat has their thumb up their butt. He is on my “To Be Stabbed” list…as well as Ann Coulter/et tu Brute. I bet those two enjoy sodomy together. Then Rick makes Ann cook him breakfast after he beats her a little bit.
Okay, now I'm just sounding insane.
grease. shower. now.

Over the past couple of days I have had little to no time to sit down and chill with my Live Journal. It's really getting on my nerves. I really should be cleaning up the house right now but instead I'll post this rushed entry.

People who have just won a place on my “Will Be Stabbed” list:
1)Parents driving along Penn Ave. with a 1-year-old in the back seat…not in a car seat! It's always lots of fun to pick your toddler's brains off of the windshield after an accident.
2)Fucking asshole down the street who will not stop screaming at his wife and kids for how shitty his life is, and just told his three-year-old daughter that he's going to “knock her fuckin' teeth out.” Is castration illegal?

Lunch at Kassab's with Shanley = yumminess. I suck at Maff.

I called around to several day care centers today. That was fun. The whole experience adds fuel to my rage when I think about how health care and child care are provided by the state in the rest of the developed world but here they're “privileges.” I just don't even feel like going into how many contradictions are present in this system.
I have to go clean crumbs off the kitchen floor before ants take over the house.
I'm glamorous.

I guess this is a big day. The baby just figured out how to take his diaper off. I get this sinking feeling that I'm going to be scrubbing feces off the wall very soon.

This is mostly for the benefit of fellow SFU fanatic, , but the rest of you are more than welcome to read along.
I just got back from watching the tape at Jwan's. Shit is really starting to heat up now. This season may have had a slow start, but now with only three episodes left it's really beginning to live up to its name in my opinion. I won't reveal too much, but Claire really told Russell where to stick it. It was like the fantasy break up of every jilted woman.
Two wonderful scenes between Nate and Lisa and Claire and Ruth. Both made me cry. Somehow that show really has a way of hitting me in exactly the right way at exactly the right time. The scene between Claire and Ruth was doing an especially good job of tugging at my heartstrings. It was just such a perfect mother-daughter conversation about life and love. My portrayal must make it sound really awful, but trust me, it was great.
It's just so weird. I was having kind of an irritating and nerve-wracking day, just trying to figure out how to get the baby some child care and me a job and feeling like the stereotypical unemployable English major, but more of a loser version since I have a child and everyone's just waiting for me to fail. On top of all that I was fretting over regular life and love stuff, so SFU just sort of mellowed all of that out. Awesome.
Hopefully, I won't get all messed up again tomorrow.
I want to watch a DVD but I'm not sure what.
I've been thinking that my journal's been especially lame as of late. I apologize. I'm going to try to do better. Now that I have readers, I'm trying to “perform” well. ;-p

I watched the video footage from the party. There isn't that much of it, but highlights include my dramatic use of zoom-in on a basket of cheese curls and declaring it “Cheese Curls: The Movie,” and me, slurring, trying to get a roundtable discussion going regarding the SNL skit Goth Talk.
speaking of which:
http://www.geocities.com/azraelabyss.geo/gtmain.html

enjoy.

Last night, the boyfriend and I watched Baraka. So friggin' amazing. We were only going to watch a second or two of it because I wanted to watch Beetlejuice. But as soon as it started we just sort of sat there and stared, slackjawed. It was so great. I fell asleep not long after it was over, but I woke up around 5 a.m. panicking about what I would do if anything bad were to ever happen to the baby. It was really annoying because, seriously, what I can do about this kind of stuff at 5 a.m. while I'm lying in bed? Nothing. It took me forever to fall asleep and of course once I did my son was awake about twenty minutes later.

Something to add to the list of things that make me happy: waking up and remembering that I have a fresh box of Kashi waiting for me in the lazy susan.

I need to shower.

The baby and I need to walk to the Hallmark store to buy Mother's Day cards. argh.

My camera is done being repaired but I don't know if I'm going to be able to make it all the way out to Waterworks to pick it up.

*cracks neck*
I also need a new pillow. now.

I also also need to call my doctor and the baby's doctor today to schedule appointments. Yippee. Speaking of the baby, he's holding the lens caps to my camera and crying for no discernible reason. what the hell?

I'm off to CMU's HR website to peruse for a jobby job.
Ta for now.

Let me just spurt them out so I won't forget them, then I'll explain each:
pimple
william safire
weird dream

Okay, the pimple is inside my right nostril and way up there, past my nosering. It hurts. A lot. I don't know if I can even attempt to pop it. And with what? Shoving a needle up my nose just doesn't seem like a good idea. If you're about to make some crack about how I didn't seem to have a problem shoving a needle up my nose to pierce then you can just go sit somewhere else.

William Safire declared in his column yesterday that the manner in which the words “severe” and “acute” are used in the acronym SARS is not redundant. I know you were all getting really worried about that.

The dream that I had last night was definitely one of the more bizarre ones of my life. First off, I drove to Vegas by myself just to hang out for awhile. Me? Driving? Vegas? By myself? Completely bizarre. Then when I got there I busted into a hotel room to fine my ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend having an affair with a very dirty Pete Finelli. The ex-boyfriend showed up, I revealed all, they got into a huge argument, I left them to battle it out. I have no idea what that means.

gotta mop.

I had a great weekend. It was very long, but it was great. Saturday I woke up, sat around for a bit, got a shower, woke up the boyfriend with some quick and hushed canoodling, then got dressed. We headed over to the place where my formal, family graduation party was being held and found out that a bodybuilding competition was going on next door at Soldiers and Sailors Hall. I had my video camera with me and got some good footage of these Masters of the Universe-looking people standing around in Speedos. Oh yeah. The formal party was pretty nice. I got lots of money and ate two pieces of cake. Oh, the decadence. From there we had to hustle back to my house to set up for the party I was throwing at my house for my friends. The party seemed to come off as a huge success. I think around 15-20 people showed up. Much food and drink was consumed. The baby hung out for awhile and tried to participate in the conversation. I was glad that none of my friends seemed overly freaked out about his presence. My mom was there and she kind of took over for me as far as the baby was concerned so that I could just hang out and enjoy myself. It was very nice of her, although I felt decidedly white trash that someone was taking care of my kid while I sat out back getting drunk. I'm a shitty mother.
There was much good conversation and goofy behavior…I just wish I could remember more of it. I pulled out the video camera again but no one was really down with the brightness of the light that was required. So after blinding several of my nearest and dearest I put it away.
I got some great presents, too. Two DVDs: Beetlejuice and UHF from Paco and Jon. Sexcellent book: Fast Food Nation from Frank and Cara (plus the feather boa things on the bag served as Epill-fabulous fashion accessories for the rest of the night. rawk.) My amazon.com wish list is, like, the greatest thing ever. I can't wait to go through it and delete some of the things that I now own! Woo! Akil gave me some plastic ponies and Shawn gave me a Slinky and a beach ball. I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
Around midnight, I gathered the troops together and we paraded up the street to the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern. There, in all of their glory, were the Mofones singing about cats and drunk people (how appropriate!). I had brought by video camera with me and tried to make a music video. I haven't watched the footage yet but I'm sure it's hysterically wobbly. I remember being in love with Mama's shirt and staring at her chest because it said “FBC” on it. I was all bewildered by what that could possibly mean. It stood for First Baptist Church which made me all excited and I started blabbering about the piece I wrote about the Creepy Christian Church in Cranberry. I hope she wasn't thinking of punching me. dur.
Some random guy called me over to talk to him and I think I told him to fuck off in nice but very blunt way. If I remember correctly I said something like, “I don't know who you are. I can't understand what you're saying. I'm going to go stand over there and not talk to you anymore.” What? It worked. No one seemed to know who he was anyway.
By the time we got home I was no longer in a partying mood and just got into bed while several of my guests remained downstairs. After the realized that I was done entertaining for the evening, Stacey and Paco came up to say goodbye. I slurred some thank yous and gave Paco some inspirational “You-need-quit-being-depressed-you-white-male” words. Then I passed out.
I woke up on Sunday feeling stinky and a little sick. I was up before anyone else so I got into the shower and used up all of the hot water. My stomach started to really bother me and I was getting really pissed at the fact that I had to get dressed up and go to lunch with my grandmother and other female family members at the OCC. After a few dry heaves in the bathroom and an oath that tequila would never again pass my lips, I chose to ignore my condition and just got dressed and left. I fell asleep in the car both going to and coming back from lunch.
When we got home the boyfriend surprised me with a graduation/Mother's Day gift which made me a little teary. He gave me the DVDs of Drop Dead Gorgeous, Pieces, and Baraka. Very good choices, indeed. He had borrowed the usual suspects off of Akil, which we started to watch but I fell asleep.
So now, here I am, graduated, celebrated, officially unemployed. Now what?