…on my last entry, until the fear and the anger are dealt with in context, and the name-calling stops.
It hurts to be called anti-American. It hurts to be told I am stupid, I am pissing and moaning about nothing.
I just don’t want anyone else to die. Is that so wrong?

I’m worn out.

I’m so weary of being yelled at, screamed at for simply having a belief and stating that belief.

I don’t know how to deal most effectively with Saddam Hussein. I don’t know how to solve international terrorist threats.

I only know that I can barely lift myself from my bed when I consider how many more victims of murder there will be to mourn. That killing Iraqis to get at a leader we haven’t even tried to fully negotiate with will only further a cycle of violence that this administration swore it would help to end after September Eleventh. That the President’s own father thinks that the President is not acting wisely.
But feeling what I feel, and knowing what I know seems to open up a stream of fear and hate in so many people. Kids are harassing my Bangladeshi boss’ daughter at school why don’t you Muslims GO HOME?!; almost every other entry in this crazy place is packed with expletives and vitriol for those anti-war pussies.

Hate begets hate.

This name calling, and this war will solve nothing.

All I can say is:
This is who we are removing from Iraq.

Currently wearing: tight shiny black shirt, black cardigan, long wine colored skirt, black boots, spiral necklace, wedding ring.

Currently listening to: Cool Jazz FM streaming radio from Live 365.

Currently reading: You Are Special by Fred Rogers.

Currently drinking: Cherry Coke®

Currently needing: Time to slip backwards, just a little, so that I may meet all of my deadlines.

Currently concerned about: The effectiveness versus the futility of public protest; Darl’s state of mind; how it all ties into this bloody war.

Currently enjoying: My daily 8pm date with Whose Line Is It Anyway? I think I’m the only person who didn’t know about this until now.

Currently wanting: a month’s worth of vacation.

~How vain is it to list what I’m wearing everyday? Ok, maybe not vain…maybe shallow? Well, I can handle a little shallow. I spend entire days defending Choice and medically correct sexuality education in our schools; I think I’ve earned a little shallow here and there.

~Speaking of shallow, I half want to watch the Oscars this weekend. Only if to see how the Polanski thing is handled, and whether Spirited Away wins the Best Animated Feature award. Can’t wait ’till it comes out on DVD. Can’t wait! Can’t wait! Can’t wait!

~I took Clarie to lunch today. Woo! She’s back home for Spring Break. We went to Oasis Cafe on Wabash which boasts some of the best Mediterranean cuisine around. I also felt happy patronizing a middle-eastern run business during this time of paranoia. In my attempt to foster goodwill I was maybe a little too friendly, however, as the normally non-outgoing counter guy made eyes at me the whole time we were there. Well, it’s good for international relations. So, it was a marvy time with great falafel and good talk. Claire thinks getting arrested protesting is a noble thing to do. Also, her dream job is driving a BirthControlMobile. I love this girl.

~A Rigor update from Antz: Rig is walking around almost like he was before the big event. He’s been walking out to the water bowl and to the mud room [where litter box is] on his own power and not as wobbly. Been sitting up a lot more and seems a lot more normal. Got a lot of food down him last night and your mom’s working on it this morning. Still has an IV or two coming, but it really looks like a miracle!

~An observation: The reason I let my subscription expire is that I felt I was spending too much time, too much energy trying to establish myself in this closed community, where $20 seems to buy anyone the right to speak their mind (to a closed community of 4,000), and somehow entitle them to bar anyone else from dissenting. [Interestingly enough, the same thing is now happening in this country.] I’ve emailed the DM numerous times altering him to my expired status, and asking to be deleted. He chooses not to respond. So, I’ll choose to use the service.

~ On that note, supporting the troops does not mean you have to support the war or the president; conversely I believe the whole point to this freedom thing is the right to disagree, to question our government, and to verbally, loudly cry out for change. Isn’t that what freedom means? I’m just saying.

~ I never get tired of hearing In Your Eyes. It’s just that good.

~ Remember that old Saturday Night Live sketch, with Chevy Chase as a bumbling President Ford, yelling “Heel, Liberty!” to a stuffed dog? That’s how I’m feeling: Heal, Liberty.

…that we watched our President issue his grandstanding, pointless ultimatum while getting drunk on green drinks (Guiness & Midori sours) in an Irish Pub. I only wish I’d had this:

a drinking game for the evening:
Take 1 Drink for each time he exploits 9/11
Take 1 Drink for each time he downplays the significance of world opinion
Take 1 Drink for each time he claims that this massacre will increase the amount of freedom currently being experienced in Iraq.

I know that if you do participate, you probably won’t even remember your fucking name, let alone the justification for the bloodbath that is about to begin.
It seems about as useful as anything else we can do at this point.

Actually, I didn’t get nearly as drunk as one should on St. Patrick’s day, while at an authentic Irish Pub. But, I did have some damn good Irish stew. Afterwards, we walked to a nearby Japanese restaurant to have green tea ice cream (also green, natch) and ice cream tempura. Was a delightful night, especially considering D had to drag me away from my cube, and physically block me from boarding my train. Ok, it wasn’t that dramatic, but I just didn’t want to go anywhere last night, and D rightly forced me to. More or less. Sort of.

Anyway, the combination of the green drinks and a stuffy house have me I’m thrilled that it’s 4:59pm. I can’t tell you how much. Work is just…it’s good, but I cannot seem to concentrate. The sleepiness is wearing me down.

Scenes from my weekend:

Mom’s cat Luna & Kokoro, hashing it out.

Me & Rigor