Writer's block has been prohibiting me from posting the last few days. It seems that my head has been filled with everything and nothing. Rather than go missing again, I made the executive decision to post a few random things that I have been thinking.
Almost a week ago, Mr. Wizard died. My desire to craft a fitting tribute to the man who essentially fostered my love of science seems to have been the start of my writer's block. I couldn't find the right words.
When I was little, science was my thing. I wanted to be an astronaut. I wanted to conduct experiments. I wanted to invent things. I loved it all.
Mr. Wizard's show fueled that passion. He took science and made it reachable for me. He made it easy to understand and fascinating to learn. I wanted to be one of the kids on the show conducting experiments with him. I wanted to be like him when I grew up.
And so, when I heard of his passing, I was saddened. He was truly a teacher to many and he will be missed.
Other random things...
* I started watching Sex in the City reruns again, mostly because I miss it. I miss its intelligence, brashness and relatability. Because, while the characters may have been to the extreme at times, every woman can say she has a little Samantha, Carrie, Charlotte and Miranda in them.
* A hula-hoop, swim goggles, water wings and a stoop can make for a perfectly acceptable (if not completely fun) Saturday night.
* How is it that one of my closest friend's in college had another baby (well, he didn't, but his wife did) and I missed the entire pregnancy? Why do I feel like I can never keep up? (And on that note, congratulations Tom and Amie - he is absolutely beautiful)!
* Speaking of never keeping up, why do I always have dishes in my sink - though I swear I am not home enough to cook, clothes on my bathroom floor and books strewn everywhere? (Not to mention a broken TV in my living room that has been there for 8 months). I am so cluttery.
* Finally, my friend from high school writes fantastic reviews of the music world and he joined the blogging scene a while ago. (And in keeping me my falling behind theme, I have been meaning to link to him for ages). That being said, I am added him to my links: http://the-screen-door.blogspot.com/. I know you will all enjoy it!
Monday, June 18, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Frak That
I am a messy girl. I would like to believe that I have a place for everything and I think I do, but like my mind, my apartment is a bit cluttered. Still, if something was moved, I would know it. My chaos has some semblance of order.
My sister is the yin to my yang (or the Frick to my Frak as my Dad used to call us). She is neat and orderly; organized and detailed; a planner and a saver. So, when she came home at lunch for a ham sandwich (as opposed to me who was probably eating out again) and to load her dishwasher (we won't even talk about my dishes) and saw her front window missing, she knew something was wrong.
She called her fiancé and the police and they all entered the apartment together and confirmed her fears - she had been robbed. The perpetrator was slow and methodical. He (sorry for the sexist assumption) rifled through her dresser drawers, her jewelry box and even her refrigerator.
He stole her digital camera with her Mother's Day photos still on it, her DVD player, all her movies, her Ipod, her jewelry, some clothes and her beer. To add insult to injury, he used her luggage to take out his haul.
I go on record as saying I hate this guy. I hate him for violating her home. I hate him for invading her life like this and taking away her security. I hate the 500 miles that separated us and made me unable to reach out and hug her when she told me the story. I hate that I can’t protect her and spare her from this.
Now, my sister will be the first to read this and get mad at me. She will protest my view of her and for the millionth time, remind met that is 27, has lived on her own for 9 years and that she is engaged. I know all this. Sometimes, I think she is more of a grown up than I am. She has handled this with the intelligence, grace and beauty that she possess and with which constantly amazes me. And yet as her big sister (chronologically), I want to beat up the bully that did this to her, hug her and take her for an ice cream.
My sister is the yin to my yang (or the Frick to my Frak as my Dad used to call us). She is neat and orderly; organized and detailed; a planner and a saver. So, when she came home at lunch for a ham sandwich (as opposed to me who was probably eating out again) and to load her dishwasher (we won't even talk about my dishes) and saw her front window missing, she knew something was wrong.
She called her fiancé and the police and they all entered the apartment together and confirmed her fears - she had been robbed. The perpetrator was slow and methodical. He (sorry for the sexist assumption) rifled through her dresser drawers, her jewelry box and even her refrigerator.
He stole her digital camera with her Mother's Day photos still on it, her DVD player, all her movies, her Ipod, her jewelry, some clothes and her beer. To add insult to injury, he used her luggage to take out his haul.
I go on record as saying I hate this guy. I hate him for violating her home. I hate him for invading her life like this and taking away her security. I hate the 500 miles that separated us and made me unable to reach out and hug her when she told me the story. I hate that I can’t protect her and spare her from this.
Now, my sister will be the first to read this and get mad at me. She will protest my view of her and for the millionth time, remind met that is 27, has lived on her own for 9 years and that she is engaged. I know all this. Sometimes, I think she is more of a grown up than I am. She has handled this with the intelligence, grace and beauty that she possess and with which constantly amazes me. And yet as her big sister (chronologically), I want to beat up the bully that did this to her, hug her and take her for an ice cream.
Folsom Prison Blues
I have a million things to say about a million things from the last few weeks and I will get to all of them soon. However, I thought that I would comment on a little 'celebutante' (who knew that was a word) known as Miss. Paris Hilton.
Today, "A judge has ordered Paris Hilton returned to jail and she was taken from court screaming." (from www.nbc5.com)
Before I continue, I state the following:
1) I am not jealous of Paris Hilton – I think she is vacuous, wasteful and oblivious to the world around her.
2) I do not wish to be Paris Hilton – While I would like her $$, I couldn’t stand living such an unfulfilled life.
I find Paris Hilton to be the annoying faux-celebrity that just doesn’t go away. She offers nothing important to society – except for her advocacy of small dogs and weird pets. She has all the money in the world and she does nothing to make it a better place. Imagine if Paris sent her clothing budget for a year to help in the Sudan or Darfur or for a woman’s shelter or for a soup kitchen. Imagine what she could do if she attempted to be a contributing member of society. But she doesn’t even try. Instead, she lives “The Simple Life.”
Now, most days, I wouldn’t even bother with a Paris Hilton. I don’t look for her on a red carpet. I don’t watch her and Nicole make fun of local people who work for a living. I don’t even want to stay in a Hilton anymore. Most days, I don’t even care what she does. Except for the days when she breaks the law. Because, here’s the thing, money doesn’t put you above the law. Just ask Michael Jackson, Robert Downey Jr., Ken Lay, Jeff Skilling, Martha Stewart, etc… The only thing that money buys you is a good defense team.
I thought that it was great that a judge sentenced her to prison. Not because the little pampered girl was going to have to eat turkey-bologna on white for lunch (though, admittedly, that was an added bonus), but the sentence was appropriate to the infraction.
And let me side note for a quick second and ask this: Why the hell does the Hilton heiress ever find cause to drive drunk? You have billions! Hire a driver! Rent a helicopter! Hell, take a damn taxi! But, she didn’t. More than once, she didn’t. And because she didn’t, she found herself getting sentenced to 45-days in prison. (Personally, I think her mom should’ve joined her, given her completely disrespectful outbursts within the courtroom. Like mother, like daughter, I guess).
Let’s be honest, 45 days in prison sucks, but it is only 45 days. And really, she only had to do half of it. And when she was done, she could return to her vacuous life and have a great story to tell all the girls at the club. I think had she served her time Martha-style, we would’ve all gained a smidge of respect for the girl. Instead, she faked a cramp (I am only speculating) and got the sheriff to send her home early – 20 days early. Much to the chagrin of the judge who sentenced her.
Which brings us to this morning’s shenanigans in the courtroom, culminating in Paris getting led out, kicking and screaming her way back to prison.
Part of me feels bad for her, because nothing in her life has prepared her for this. Part of me wonders (thanks to my lovely, empathetic and sweet sister), whether this isn’t an over-punishment. Part of me is glad that a judge treated her like any other person. All of me hopes that there is a moral to this story.
Today, "A judge has ordered Paris Hilton returned to jail and she was taken from court screaming." (from www.nbc5.com)
Before I continue, I state the following:
1) I am not jealous of Paris Hilton – I think she is vacuous, wasteful and oblivious to the world around her.
2) I do not wish to be Paris Hilton – While I would like her $$, I couldn’t stand living such an unfulfilled life.
I find Paris Hilton to be the annoying faux-celebrity that just doesn’t go away. She offers nothing important to society – except for her advocacy of small dogs and weird pets. She has all the money in the world and she does nothing to make it a better place. Imagine if Paris sent her clothing budget for a year to help in the Sudan or Darfur or for a woman’s shelter or for a soup kitchen. Imagine what she could do if she attempted to be a contributing member of society. But she doesn’t even try. Instead, she lives “The Simple Life.”
Now, most days, I wouldn’t even bother with a Paris Hilton. I don’t look for her on a red carpet. I don’t watch her and Nicole make fun of local people who work for a living. I don’t even want to stay in a Hilton anymore. Most days, I don’t even care what she does. Except for the days when she breaks the law. Because, here’s the thing, money doesn’t put you above the law. Just ask Michael Jackson, Robert Downey Jr., Ken Lay, Jeff Skilling, Martha Stewart, etc… The only thing that money buys you is a good defense team.
I thought that it was great that a judge sentenced her to prison. Not because the little pampered girl was going to have to eat turkey-bologna on white for lunch (though, admittedly, that was an added bonus), but the sentence was appropriate to the infraction.
And let me side note for a quick second and ask this: Why the hell does the Hilton heiress ever find cause to drive drunk? You have billions! Hire a driver! Rent a helicopter! Hell, take a damn taxi! But, she didn’t. More than once, she didn’t. And because she didn’t, she found herself getting sentenced to 45-days in prison. (Personally, I think her mom should’ve joined her, given her completely disrespectful outbursts within the courtroom. Like mother, like daughter, I guess).
Let’s be honest, 45 days in prison sucks, but it is only 45 days. And really, she only had to do half of it. And when she was done, she could return to her vacuous life and have a great story to tell all the girls at the club. I think had she served her time Martha-style, we would’ve all gained a smidge of respect for the girl. Instead, she faked a cramp (I am only speculating) and got the sheriff to send her home early – 20 days early. Much to the chagrin of the judge who sentenced her.
Which brings us to this morning’s shenanigans in the courtroom, culminating in Paris getting led out, kicking and screaming her way back to prison.
Part of me feels bad for her, because nothing in her life has prepared her for this. Part of me wonders (thanks to my lovely, empathetic and sweet sister), whether this isn’t an over-punishment. Part of me is glad that a judge treated her like any other person. All of me hopes that there is a moral to this story.
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