When did this nation start celebrating redneck culture?
A few weeks ago I saw a KFC advertisement touting the arrival of the Dale Earnhardt collectable fried chicken bucket. I don't know about you, but the last thing I want as a keepsake for my namesake is a greasy cyllindrical object that at one time housed deep-fried food. I don't give a squirrel's behind that it has a picture of a man who drives his car "real-fast" in circles all day long.
As of late, white trash culture is as prevalent as chiggers in dixie grass. What astounds me is the differentiation between white trash and White Trash. As if the capitals "W" and "T" elevate these bogus-bumpkins to Lord and Lady of the trailer park.
In all honesty, quintessential rednecks don't offend my not-so-delicate sensibilities. There have always been those folks who don white, stringy wife-beaters (purchased at Wally-World in lieu of a toothbrush) to hug their pale, sickly flesh. Let them carry their Marlboro reds, Natty-Light beer and Nascar lighter wherever they may roam.
It's these brash young thangs who are buying $5 chai at Starbucks in their oh-so-sexy rolled "cowboy" hats that make me question the future of the United States. Think about it - these people are idolizing the gap-toothed, hillbilly population who slam Pat Robertson bumper stickers on the back of their prehistoric Ford.
Intellectualizing this disturbing trend has made me irritated with the general American public. My advice is to tuck that CK thong back into those JLo jeans, Sweetcheeks. I have no desire to watch your boobs pop from the top of that retro-rhinestone jean jacket.
I also think I need to eat me a nice little snack. Now, where is that recipe for cooter pie?
Friday, July 30, 2004
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
The Veil Between Worlds
Human beings are self-absorbed. It seems as if our supreme ego-centricity commands us to believe that we are the only beings in this universe. We know the cycle of birth, death and rebirth by watching our seasons. We do not think about the spaces between life and death and death and rebirth.
Yesterday, I contemplated the psuedo-death of the front lawn. About half of the grass is completely dry and yellow; half of it is green and lush. In between the two patches lies a strip that is half alive.
This predicament isn't a quandary. The explanation of why this is so is very cut and dry, much like east section of the grass. Half of the sprinkler system works, the other half doesn't. The sad little blades of grass had every right to decide to forfeit their will to live.
Obviously, people aren't as easy to explain. My great-grandmother, queen of bathtub gin during prohibition and a righteously hysterical lady, is nearly 101 years old. Somehow, she maintains the will to hang on to her life. She rises and shines and remembers old stories better than she remembers yesterday. She hugs and laughs and occasionally makes off-color jokes. She thinks it's great that I found "such a nice boy to take care of me."
Yesterday she awoke at 3AM convinced that the ceiling was caving. She had conversations with her dead brother Roy as he sat on the new couch. She held court as imaginary people came in and out of the house to visit. One guest apparently proclaimed "see you later, Sweetness" every time my mother left the living room for a moment. Roy had to leave halfway through the day, but he said he'd see my great-gram very soon.
In the afternoon, my great-grandmother told my mom to get a bed ready for my brother as he was coming for a visit. Much to everyone's surprise, my brother arrived shortly thereafter.
Everything that comes from the Earth and nature must return. We are born to start dying. Yet, we rise and shine in the morning, buy our $4.00 latte and grumble about traffic on the way to work. Very rarely, we notice the spaces between the events in our lives. We don't take the time.
It is possible that my wonderful great-gram is hallucinating as she begins the process of dying. But, I also think she is getting the time to notice the space between her life and death. I only hope her transition is easy and happy.
Yesterday, I contemplated the psuedo-death of the front lawn. About half of the grass is completely dry and yellow; half of it is green and lush. In between the two patches lies a strip that is half alive.
This predicament isn't a quandary. The explanation of why this is so is very cut and dry, much like east section of the grass. Half of the sprinkler system works, the other half doesn't. The sad little blades of grass had every right to decide to forfeit their will to live.
Obviously, people aren't as easy to explain. My great-grandmother, queen of bathtub gin during prohibition and a righteously hysterical lady, is nearly 101 years old. Somehow, she maintains the will to hang on to her life. She rises and shines and remembers old stories better than she remembers yesterday. She hugs and laughs and occasionally makes off-color jokes. She thinks it's great that I found "such a nice boy to take care of me."
Yesterday she awoke at 3AM convinced that the ceiling was caving. She had conversations with her dead brother Roy as he sat on the new couch. She held court as imaginary people came in and out of the house to visit. One guest apparently proclaimed "see you later, Sweetness" every time my mother left the living room for a moment. Roy had to leave halfway through the day, but he said he'd see my great-gram very soon.
In the afternoon, my great-grandmother told my mom to get a bed ready for my brother as he was coming for a visit. Much to everyone's surprise, my brother arrived shortly thereafter.
Everything that comes from the Earth and nature must return. We are born to start dying. Yet, we rise and shine in the morning, buy our $4.00 latte and grumble about traffic on the way to work. Very rarely, we notice the spaces between the events in our lives. We don't take the time.
It is possible that my wonderful great-gram is hallucinating as she begins the process of dying. But, I also think she is getting the time to notice the space between her life and death. I only hope her transition is easy and happy.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Shiny Happy People Holding Hands
My left hand is shiny and he's happy that he doesn't have to worry about my father taking him for a "drive" in the "woods" a la Tony Soprano.
I've gotten the ring and some new insight. I've come to the conclusion that it really isn't all about the bling.
It is truly about something far more amazing than just a perfect, princess cut stone cresting ten smaller princess cut stones set in a white gold band. It is far more intense than the shimmering, sparkling beacon of our hope faith and love. It is nearly indescribable, as it is an experience like none other I've ever had in my life.
And, I now know, that it is all about the registering for wedding gifts.
I've gotten the ring and some new insight. I've come to the conclusion that it really isn't all about the bling.
It is truly about something far more amazing than just a perfect, princess cut stone cresting ten smaller princess cut stones set in a white gold band. It is far more intense than the shimmering, sparkling beacon of our hope faith and love. It is nearly indescribable, as it is an experience like none other I've ever had in my life.
And, I now know, that it is all about the registering for wedding gifts.
Friday, June 25, 2004
Drone On
Drone Launched to Detect Illegal Immigrants Officials Hope to Stem Flow From Mexico Into Arizona
Very interesting article. And I always thought of drones as completely incapable of anything worthwhile... much like George Dub-ya.
FORT HUACHUCA, Ariz. (June 25) -- The Border Patrol launched an unmanned drone Friday that uses thermal and night-vision equipment to help agents spot illegal immigrants trying to cross the desert into the United States.
The stepped-up surveillance is part of a mission that officials hope will stem the tide of illegal immigrants that have made Arizona the busiest illegal entry point along the 2,000-mile border with Mexico.
The two drones being used in the project can detect movement from 15 miles up, read a license plate, view a vehicle's occupants, and even detect weapons, officials said.
Roger Maier, a spokesman for U.S. Customs and Border Protection, confirmed that one of the remotely piloted Hermes 450 drones started flying Friday morning. It was unclear when the other one would be used.
The drones weigh almost 1,000 pounds, have a 35-foot wingspan and can fly faster than 100 mph. They will patrol at 12,000 to 15,000 feet. They can stay aloft for 20 hours at a time.
The overall cost of the mission is estimated at least $10 million, with the government spending about $4 million on the drones.
Pilots on the ground will remotely control them unless the flight is preprogrammed, with another agent interpreting the images and using global positioning to send agents to respond to what the drones detect.
The aircraft are a key element of the Department of Homeland Security's efforts to achieve ''operational control'' of the border in Arizona. The drones' mission ends Sept. 30, when it will be assessed to determine the future of drones with the Border Patrol.
Border Patrol agents catch hundreds of thousands of illegal immigrants trying to cross Arizona's sprawling, cactus-covered deserts each year. The agency had recorded more than 330,000 apprehensions since Oct. 1 in the Border Patrol's Tucson sector, which covers most of the Arizona border.
The Hermes 450s, which Israel uses to patrol its frontiers, join a number of unmanned aerial vehicles being used in the United States.
Remote-controlled planes help gather data for environmental studies and patrol Western skies on wildfire watch. In Alaska, the Coast Guard is also testing a drone this summer for fisheries patrols and other uses.
Drones called Predators have also been successful in U.S. military and CIA operations. Missiles fired from Predators have killed al-Qaida operatives in Afghanistan and Yemen.
Very interesting article. And I always thought of drones as completely incapable of anything worthwhile... much like George Dub-ya.
FORT HUACHUCA, Ariz. (June 25) -- The Border Patrol launched an unmanned drone Friday that uses thermal and night-vision equipment to help agents spot illegal immigrants trying to cross the desert into the United States.
The stepped-up surveillance is part of a mission that officials hope will stem the tide of illegal immigrants that have made Arizona the busiest illegal entry point along the 2,000-mile border with Mexico.
The two drones being used in the project can detect movement from 15 miles up, read a license plate, view a vehicle's occupants, and even detect weapons, officials said.
Roger Maier, a spokesman for U.S. Customs and Border Protection, confirmed that one of the remotely piloted Hermes 450 drones started flying Friday morning. It was unclear when the other one would be used.
The drones weigh almost 1,000 pounds, have a 35-foot wingspan and can fly faster than 100 mph. They will patrol at 12,000 to 15,000 feet. They can stay aloft for 20 hours at a time.
The overall cost of the mission is estimated at least $10 million, with the government spending about $4 million on the drones.
Pilots on the ground will remotely control them unless the flight is preprogrammed, with another agent interpreting the images and using global positioning to send agents to respond to what the drones detect.
The aircraft are a key element of the Department of Homeland Security's efforts to achieve ''operational control'' of the border in Arizona. The drones' mission ends Sept. 30, when it will be assessed to determine the future of drones with the Border Patrol.
Border Patrol agents catch hundreds of thousands of illegal immigrants trying to cross Arizona's sprawling, cactus-covered deserts each year. The agency had recorded more than 330,000 apprehensions since Oct. 1 in the Border Patrol's Tucson sector, which covers most of the Arizona border.
The Hermes 450s, which Israel uses to patrol its frontiers, join a number of unmanned aerial vehicles being used in the United States.
Remote-controlled planes help gather data for environmental studies and patrol Western skies on wildfire watch. In Alaska, the Coast Guard is also testing a drone this summer for fisheries patrols and other uses.
Drones called Predators have also been successful in U.S. military and CIA operations. Missiles fired from Predators have killed al-Qaida operatives in Afghanistan and Yemen.
Friday, June 18, 2004
It's All About the Bling
My mother says I'm afflicted with shiny object syndrome. In stores, at restaurants - basically any public place you can think of - I've always gravitated toward the things that sparkle. I can't help it. Shiny things are cool.
This is why it has been so difficult to answer that question.
Quite simply put, "I have no idea what my ring looks like as I don't have one as of yet."
He's had it for two months. This wonderful, slightly-infuriating man (who has impeccable taste, mind you) has had that shiny object in a box for two entire months and I've yet to track that puppy down.
Kevin wants to ask my father for his blessing in person.
Mind you, my benevolent father has already sent the deposit to the Wigwam for the ceremony and reception. My well-intentioned dad also churned out advice as Kev and I signed away our lives for our first house. It isn't as if Bob doesn't know his little girl is getting married.
And yet, my beloved still insists on keeping that perfect shiny object hidden until the word has been spoken.
So, here I sit, 2000 miles away from Kevin counting the days until he arrives. I send him cards because I miss him. He sends me roses because he loves me. I'm secretly pining for him because I do miss him terribly (don't tell anyone).
And yet, I can't help but wonder what it looks like.
This is why it has been so difficult to answer that question.
Quite simply put, "I have no idea what my ring looks like as I don't have one as of yet."
He's had it for two months. This wonderful, slightly-infuriating man (who has impeccable taste, mind you) has had that shiny object in a box for two entire months and I've yet to track that puppy down.
Kevin wants to ask my father for his blessing in person.
Mind you, my benevolent father has already sent the deposit to the Wigwam for the ceremony and reception. My well-intentioned dad also churned out advice as Kev and I signed away our lives for our first house. It isn't as if Bob doesn't know his little girl is getting married.
And yet, my beloved still insists on keeping that perfect shiny object hidden until the word has been spoken.
So, here I sit, 2000 miles away from Kevin counting the days until he arrives. I send him cards because I miss him. He sends me roses because he loves me. I'm secretly pining for him because I do miss him terribly (don't tell anyone).
And yet, I can't help but wonder what it looks like.
Friday, June 04, 2004
and the living is easy
The options for the house have been picked.
The dress was bought.
And I'm on my way to Vegas with the girls.
I love summer.
The dress was bought.
And I'm on my way to Vegas with the girls.
I love summer.
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Life is so strange
I don't know quite when it happened. I was driving through life at warp speed, as usual, and a lightening bolt hit my DeLorean (read: Grand AM GT) and catapulted me into my future.
The past, aka "Destination Unknown," never looked like this.
In Destination Unknown, life was unpredictable and chaotic, but made sense nonetheless. When Molly would call to go see David Carter on Thursday nights, I knew we'd be crawling into work the next morning belching the remnants of red-headed sluts (our drink du jour). I'd have to look at pictures to remember our jaunts of the evening prior.
In Destination Unknown, I saw issues of "Wired" and "Tattoo" strewn haphazardly around the floor of my double-story, single-living shag pad. Elvis was the only steady man in my life.
Back to the Future: As I groaned out of bed this morning, on this last week of school, my toes touched perfect pink, bent-cornered glossies of "The Knot," "Brides," and "So-You've-Lost-Your-Mind-And-Decided-To-Have-A-Wedding Quarterly." The "Congratulations on Your New House!" binder rested on top of the stack as if it were an oversized cake-topper.
My sleep-crusted eyes fell the necklace that matches the ring of my intended. In this strangely beautiful future land, I am enjoying the new scenery immensely.
The past, aka "Destination Unknown," never looked like this.
In Destination Unknown, life was unpredictable and chaotic, but made sense nonetheless. When Molly would call to go see David Carter on Thursday nights, I knew we'd be crawling into work the next morning belching the remnants of red-headed sluts (our drink du jour). I'd have to look at pictures to remember our jaunts of the evening prior.
In Destination Unknown, I saw issues of "Wired" and "Tattoo" strewn haphazardly around the floor of my double-story, single-living shag pad. Elvis was the only steady man in my life.
Back to the Future: As I groaned out of bed this morning, on this last week of school, my toes touched perfect pink, bent-cornered glossies of "The Knot," "Brides," and "So-You've-Lost-Your-Mind-And-Decided-To-Have-A-Wedding Quarterly." The "Congratulations on Your New House!" binder rested on top of the stack as if it were an oversized cake-topper.
My sleep-crusted eyes fell the necklace that matches the ring of my intended. In this strangely beautiful future land, I am enjoying the new scenery immensely.
Friday, May 07, 2004
I am. I was.
As part of my lesson today, I had my students write based on the prompt "I am. I was." They were asked to write from their own point of view or from the point of view of someone else. Most of my students chose to write about their own lives and views. These two girls seem to be polar opposites on the outside, but are so alike in so many ways.
from my self-confident, quiet, shy and smart girl who sits in the back of my room:
I am never going to give in to what I strongly oppose. I was not always that firm in my beliefs.
I am leading the way. I was lagging behind you.
I am one to look to. I was frequently overlooked.
I am full of dreams. I was an airhead.
I am oftentimes lazy. I was and still am.
I am not going to be easily influenced. I was often let down.
I am looking forward to the future. I was dreading its coming.
I am thought of as crazy, smart, kind, beautiful and open-minded. I was NEVER thought of that way before.
I am regularly thinking of my loved ones. I was regularly thinking of myself.
I am ready for what is to come. I was usually avoiding it.
I am not afraid to admit it. I was never so courageous.
I am not afraid to love. I was afraid to get involved.
I am. I was.
from my loud, outgoing, sweet, show-stopper girl who is also quite an intellectual:
I am me. This is who I'll always be. I have strived my whole life to set myself out from the crowd. I like to think of myself not as opinionated, just always right. I don't know how my peers view me, but I try to project myself as a very optimistic and outgoing person. I choose to unleash every difference about me to the world around me. If they don't like me, then I don't like them.
"If you do not wish to be forgotten, soon as you are rotten; either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing." This is a quote by Benjamin Franklin that spoke to me when I read it at age 9. I have tried to achieve my goal of originality ever since. When I pass away, I want people to remember me as the person they could laugh with. It makes me happy to think I am actually noticed - that somebody somewhere is letting me rent space in their mind just by thinking about me.
I want people to accept me for who I am. I am 63% gay (according to thespark.com) but it's true and I don't try to hide it. My sexuality has become a part of my personality. Being gay gives me another topic on which to speak my mind. I just don't see what the big deal is and why people ridicule. It means I have options ;).
I am me. I am the most self-conscious person you will ever meet.
I was here.
from my self-confident, quiet, shy and smart girl who sits in the back of my room:
I am never going to give in to what I strongly oppose. I was not always that firm in my beliefs.
I am leading the way. I was lagging behind you.
I am one to look to. I was frequently overlooked.
I am full of dreams. I was an airhead.
I am oftentimes lazy. I was and still am.
I am not going to be easily influenced. I was often let down.
I am looking forward to the future. I was dreading its coming.
I am thought of as crazy, smart, kind, beautiful and open-minded. I was NEVER thought of that way before.
I am regularly thinking of my loved ones. I was regularly thinking of myself.
I am ready for what is to come. I was usually avoiding it.
I am not afraid to admit it. I was never so courageous.
I am not afraid to love. I was afraid to get involved.
I am. I was.
from my loud, outgoing, sweet, show-stopper girl who is also quite an intellectual:
I am me. This is who I'll always be. I have strived my whole life to set myself out from the crowd. I like to think of myself not as opinionated, just always right. I don't know how my peers view me, but I try to project myself as a very optimistic and outgoing person. I choose to unleash every difference about me to the world around me. If they don't like me, then I don't like them.
"If you do not wish to be forgotten, soon as you are rotten; either write something worth reading, or do something worth writing." This is a quote by Benjamin Franklin that spoke to me when I read it at age 9. I have tried to achieve my goal of originality ever since. When I pass away, I want people to remember me as the person they could laugh with. It makes me happy to think I am actually noticed - that somebody somewhere is letting me rent space in their mind just by thinking about me.
I want people to accept me for who I am. I am 63% gay (according to thespark.com) but it's true and I don't try to hide it. My sexuality has become a part of my personality. Being gay gives me another topic on which to speak my mind. I just don't see what the big deal is and why people ridicule. It means I have options ;).
I am me. I am the most self-conscious person you will ever meet.
I was here.
Sunday, May 02, 2004
My Chicken is my Be-otch
I'm very disturbed.
Go to this website www.subservientchicken.com
Is this thing for real?
If so, I really think I need therapy.
Go to this website www.subservientchicken.com
Is this thing for real?
If so, I really think I need therapy.
Friday, April 30, 2004
The real wedding
Kevin and I are getting married on December 11, 2004. He asked officially this afternoon at Troon North Golf Club in Scottsdale, which is where our wedding and reception will also take place.
I never thought I'd do this. I'm just glad that life still surprises me.
Update: Forget Troon. It's all about The Wigwam Resort.
I never thought I'd do this. I'm just glad that life still surprises me.
Update: Forget Troon. It's all about The Wigwam Resort.
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