This is the end, the absolute end, I promise, of the hype on the "terrorists making a dry run" story, but I give you the Salon's The Hysterical Skies. Note: You'll have to watch a brief video to read the article and amazingly, it's one for the new book, "House of Saud, House of Bush."

Soapbox Stance

At work today, I had an interesting non-exchange with a co-worker. He handed me an article to read (never mind that this week I'm working two jobs and therefore have twice as many deadlines to meet during the day) and when I didn't jump to read it immediately, he told me the gist of it, along with his editorial remarks on the subject. The gist of it was that he believed in racial profiling. I don't. So I didn't say anything at all and went back to work. Two seconds later, he sent me an instant message with the gist of what he had to say on the article again. Perhaps he thought I didn't understand the verbalization of his opinion and that I needed in writing. I ignored the IM.

Now, my thinking was, we didn't agree at all on the subject and I didn't have the time or passion to argue with him. Especially at 9 in the morning when I was still recovering from having company the night before. Later on, I felt somewhat guilty for remaining absolutely quiet. Some people would argue that I have a right to my opinion, just as he does, and I have every right to speak it. I think that's true to an extent. But I didn't see the point of debating the subject at all since we were clearly at polar opposites and we'd only end up agreeing to disagree.

My one regret is that I didn't say politely to him, "I don't agree with you and let's leave it at that." My gut feeling though is that he'd try to engage me in conversation further on the matter and clearly, once again, it'd be like beating my head on a brick-wall, which, given that I'm working two jobs right now, I don't have time to be doing. So my main dilemma is whether I was rude by my complete silence on the subject. I think he even saw me toss the article in the trash, even though I didn't mean to be overt about it.

Eh, an evil part of me wanted me to remind this guy who is so proud of his family's support for McGovern way back when that racial profiling is more of a conservative viewpoint than liberal. Now that would have made him mad for sure!

Links of the day: Bush and Blair keep howling about Saddam as well as an editorial from The Nation: An Error of Supreme Dimensions

A wee bit more on the topic, because you can never beat a dead horse too much: Clinton W. Taylor on Nour Mehana & "Terror in the Skies" on National Review Online

I thought it was only fair to link to the article that pissed me off so thoroughly yesterday: Terror in the Skies, Again? Looks like flying 'Arab' and 'with friends' and 'using the bathroom' is officially a no-no.

Also, here's a nice little quote as I want to spare you the pain of reading this hysterical, high-strung woman's article: shouldn't a group of 14 Middle Eastern men be screened before boarding a flight? And while we're at, why don't we screen every group of more than 4 people, hmmm? And then there's this kicker: The 14 Syrians had been hired as musicians to play at a casino in the desert. Adams said they were "scrubbed." None had arrest records (in America, I presume), none showed up on the FBI's "no fly" list or the FBI's Most Wanted Terrorists List.

(in America, I presume). If that doesn't give you pause, I don't know what should. The presumption, the assumption, that people of Middle Eastern descent or who look like Arabs are automatically terrorists is amazing and just scary, scary scary. You get the feeling that Ms. Jacobson, if she had her way, would just about outlaw flying as anything or anyone other than blue-eyed, blond-haired Protestant/Catholic. Because, y'know, no non-Muslim or non-Arab could possibly be dangerous.

And my favorite part? The author uses Ann "we must convert the Middle East to Christianity" Coulter! Ann Coulter, another hate-ridden, bile-spewing, off-her-rocker and irratonal columnist as a source of information. Gah. That's all we need -- give the crazy woman some validation and an 'amen' corner for her intolerance.

While I'll never deny the need for intensive screenings and increased security checks, I question the wisdom of automatically deciding one must be a terrorist based on appearance. Who's to decide what a 'terrorist' looks like? Yeah, the odds favor one ethnicity more than another, but this is a Melting Pot country -- we have a lot of people of lot of different backgrounds. I think it's ridiculous to assume that people are terrorists because they might have Arab descent. Especially when they pass muster on various other security checks that airlines and the government has in place.

If you're interested, the story continues here. Where, despite having passed security, having been checked out, she still assumes they are terrorists.

I have to say, if this is an example of an 'aware' American, I want no part of it. I'd like to suggest an alternative descriptive phrase: 'bigoted' American.

The future is so bright

Those of you who are chained to your laundry may be interested in self-cleaning clothes. Especially of those of you with teens or who tend to leave your laundry in the dryer overnight with dire results (g).

Special edition double blog

Oh my: Jackson to be father of quadruplets

Places to go

You wouldn't think infertility or miscarriage would be funny, but 'getupgrrl' -- an infertile woman -- has done her best to make it a laughing matter at Chez Miscarriage. A couple of posts of note are here and here. Also, if you read through old entries, you'll also find information on some new legislation being proposed by the Bush administration that is frankly scary. Check it out.

re: yesterday's entry, no, I don't know if the thong comes with the dress. And really, would anyone want it that much?

Your fashion cents for charity

The Official Gillian Anderson Website is offering up one of Gillian's gowns for auction to benefit neurofibromatosis. When I see dresses like this, I can't help but wonder, with all the money and fashion designers these actors have access too, how do they come up with a monstrosity like this?

Up the hill both ways in the snow

Blogger now has a WSYWIG editor, which is so very cool for days when I'm feeling lazy, but I can't help but feel nostalgic for the notepad days, the days before editors when damn it, we wrote our HTML by hand. Every now and then I feel the urge to code by hand once again. As much as I love Macromedia's Dreamweaver, sometimes it's too easy.

I often liken WSYWIG editors to calculators -- I don't think anyone denies that you have to learn how to add/subtract/multiply/divide before bringing out the heavy artillerary. I feel the same way about HTML. WSYWIG is fine and all for a quick down and dirty job but when it comes to the heavy lifting, I go back to ye olde NotePad.

Hee!

Have you ever wondered what Bush would look like if he was a girl? Warning: Scary, scary, scary. Do not view while drinking or eating. Not responsible for choking, damaged keyboards, or nightmares.

Go Patriots!

This Land Is Your Land as sung by John Kerry and George W. Bush. You'll like. I promise.

As American as apple pie

I don't really have much to say -- it's not easy to come up with new material to blog about every day. Especially interesting material. I'd be happy to reprint my non-existent grocery list here for you, but I'm pretty sure that'd only be worthwhile to those of you suffering from insomnia. And as for the grocery situation, it's not improved much because I can't be bothered to go to the store during the week. However, I'm happy to report I have enough pasta in my pantry to feed the country of Uruguay.

Speaking of Uruguay, are you watching The Amazing Race? Tuesday nights, 10 pm EST, on CBS. Seriously, Best. Reality. Show. I was seriously considering applying for it, except for the little detail of not being terribly adventurous with food (don't even remind me of red-bean ice-cream!) and having this thing about high places. But you should watch. Really.

Speaking of high places, the Blimp Kind are back. This time, the Blimp Kind are cruising in style in a patriotic-themed vehicle (prounounced ve-HICK-cal in the military), courtesy of Ameriquest. If you're not consolidating your mortgage or buying a house, you're unAmerican! And oh yes, while you're on their site, don't forget to enter the contest to win a trip to the 2004 World Series because there is nothing more patriotic than a baseball game, preferably watched while consuming apple pie. You can also take the trip with some baseball great I've never heard of, but there's nothing here on whether you'll have to spend time with the Blimp Kind. So go. Enter. And don't say I never offer you opportunities to show your patriotism.

The State of Seema

I am back and I warn you, back away slowly and no one will get hurt: I am sleep-deprived, painfully and critically so. I'm also hungry. The reason I'm hungry is that my refrigerator is empty. This should be no surprise to some of you. I haven't been to the grocery store in nearly a month. However, it wasn't supposed to be a problem until I left my dinner on the counter top in the Big City to the West -- 3 hours away. Instead, I came away with a big bag of Cokes, lemonade and Ozarka water. This is a good thing; I hear people can live longer without food than they can without beverages and it's a fair bet to say that I'll be very well hydrated from here on out.

I had a writing revelation last night. Ed McMahon showed up at my door and said, "You're finally in!" I think he was talking about a book, but I'm not entirely sure. I was too busy boggling over Ed McMahon in my dream and the fact that he had the gumption to show up without a million-dollar cheque. So, despite the fact Mr. McMahon didn't come through with a million dollars, I invited him and said, "I'm 'in'? Where am I 'in' and how did that happen?" He didn't quite answer the 'where', but he did answer the 'how'. Ayn Rand, he said. "You must go back to Ayn Rand." So now, not only does Ed McMahon not show up with a million-dollar cheque at my door, he also has become suddenly and scarily telepathic -- he knows I've given up on Ayn Rand, that I've stumbled one too many times over her self-promotion and countless examples out of her books. I don't know how he knows I've written Ayn Rand off, but Ed McMahon knows.

I woke up then, after the dream, and realized that this wasn't even a very complicated sign. The sign was pointing west and saying, "Go, young woman, and outline. Go with plot-theme, come up with a climax. In short, young woman, know what you're writing and you'll get 'in'."

And en classe today, one of my classmates was horror-stricken to discover multiple tenses in a sentence and another classmate lamented, after going over rules for cities/states/countries/islands, "Do French people get these right?" My main contribution to class today was calling 'snail mail' les lettres des escargots. Somehow, it doesn't have the same ring to it.

I have over 300 pieces of spam. And no, not the edible kind.

Also, those of you who receive this blog by email, I've fixed the connection problems so the email will start up again. Sorry abot the lapse in service.

And now, dear people, it's time for bed, but in the morning, I shall forage for sustenance in order to maintain the strength to outline my way through stories according to the rules of Ayn Rand.

Geek Whimsy

I was thinking the other day that it'd be really cool to come up with a sort of recs system for sites like mine that have a certain number of fics covering a certain number of fandoms. I envision a database that allows you to pick characters, fandom, plot versus no plot, romance/gen/het/slash/angst/humor, and rating. Once you put all the variables in, it comes back with a story or two that fits your particular need at that time.

So maybe 'recs' isn't the right word -- perhaps, it's a customized offering depending on what the reader wants to read. That way, people wouldn't have to shift through, say my Paris/Torres angst, if all they really wanted was Paris/Seven love. Scrolling could be kept to a minimum and perhaps the reader could customize the site to feature only the stories she likes to read. Honestly, frightening as it is, perhaps someone could customize my site for All Janeway/Chakotay (tm) all the time. Hmmm?

And places to go: The Debunking of Fareneheit 9/11.

And on that note, good night moon.

You can take it with you

Confession time: I'm a pack rat of epic proportions. When people line up to write my biography, there will no confusion, no mystery, no unexplained phenomena/motivations in my life. This is because I save every single piece of paper I've ever received. Seriously. There is paper everywhere -- in my car, in my apartment, in my office, everywhere. Yellow sticky notes, notebooks, scraps of papers, backs of envelopes, bills from 1998, you name it -- I've got it. If you ever sent me a letter or postcard, it's in a shoe box at the top of my closet -- I now have about 8 shoeboxes with letters going back to 1988, if not before. Other people collect stamps or postcards, I collect paper and seriously, am so not picky about the type/style/quality. I basically subscribe to the philosophy of "more = better."

The reason this all comes up is this weekend, I cleaned up (and note: the word 'clean' is being used very loosely) my stuff at the house, because my bedroom will probably go to my cousin and his daughter, aka Purple Bunny Niece. In a corner of the bedroom, I've had about 4 or 5 boxes of stuff just sitting there from my move last summer. Going through the boxes, I found my phone book from Grad School Town, my lease signed 3 months before my first semester, a receipt for gas from 1998, four very beautiful cheat sheets for statistics, and a phone number on a piece of paper -- but no name to go with the phone number (btw, if you've been waiting for me to call you for at least two years now, and I haven't, it may be that your name and phone number are in two different places).

Amazingly, in those boxes, I also found stuff from undergrad (now 6 years in the past), and high school (a decade ago). So this is all paper I've schlepped across three states and five towns and several residences. I assume if I looked hard enough, I could probably find paper from when we were overseas. The thing is, most people use moving as a way to get rid of stuff. Me, I just toss all the stuff into a box, put duct tape on it and stick it in a corner and hope no one ever calls me on it. Forget burying a time capsule in the front yard of your school -- just hire me and I'll turn your entire place into a mausoleum of receipts, expired insurance policies, test papers, random newspaper clippings, grocery lists and envelopes with cryptic messages/phone numbers scrawled on them. Archeologists will love you for your consideration.

So, while a bunch of stuff got shredded and tossed, the rest got put into an Eddie Bauer bag and was dragged back here, ostensibly for me to go through and figure out what all of this paper is all about; my mother even helpfully threw in a couple of binders to I can get myself somewhat organized (A co-worker at Very Big Insurance Company once said I was the most organized person he ever met and that it was no surprise I could always find what I was looking "because it was all in the same place." Who needs file folders and binders or drawers when you have perfectly good desk space? Hmmm?)

Incidentally, I have tons of paper here too -- I've stopped using all but a corner of my dining room table because the rest is covered in bills/notices/flyers/coupons, stuff that I've somehow formed a deep and meaningful connection with and thus, cannot bring myself to throw out. After all, you can never have too many coupons to Linens 'N Things.

Hello. My name is Seema. And I have a paper problem.

Play Time! I made it 63 meters. How far can you go, hmmm? No updates to this space for the next 3-4 days. Be strong. Go see jemima for content in the meantime or my newest favorite blog: dooce. Or alternatively, see what basic right the anti-abortion movement is attacking now. So until Monday evening, ciao!

Habitual choices

Not only am I a creature of the Paleolithic, I'm also one of some very deep and ingrained habits. I literally do practically the same things in the same order every single day. Any little upset to the routine and I go all cranky. It's unbelievably sad just how routinized I am. To give you an example.

Every morning I wake up at the same time to the same CD: 7:30 am to Sarah Brightman's "Harem Tour" CD. Even if I wake up before 7:30, I lie there and wait. And even when the CD comes on, I don't actually get out of bed until My Imagination comes on; some mornings, when I'm particularly eager to get out of bed, I will actually hit the fast-forward button twice to get to the song, I'll listen and then I can get out of bed (Yes, I actually have to listen to it all the way through before I get out of bed).

And then it's a stumble to the kitchen to put the kettle on for coffee so by the time I finish in the bathroom, the water is boiling. I like to watch the last 15 minutes of the Cosby Show and about a half-hour of the Today Show while drinking coffee. I get cranky if I miss the 8 am headlines with Anne Curry. I get really upset if more than two of the Today Show hosts are missing on any given day, like today, when only Matt Lauer was there; 8 am is still not late enough to take Campbell Brown, lemme tell you. Ironing happens at 8:30, along with hair etc., and I'm out the door at 8:50 am at the latest. If I'm out any later than 8:50, I start to get agitated, even though I'm not technically late at work until 9:30 and I live all of 2 miles from the office.

I listen to the same CD in the car every day -- Kuch Kuch Hota Hai -- and I listen to tracks 1, 2 and part of 4 on the way to work. Coming home, it's tracks 6, 7 and part of 8. Every now and then I might deviate and substitute number 5 -- which is a fairly fun and upbeat song -- for either song #4 or song #6. (BTW, a friend from college once visited me and I had Sarah Brightman's Eden in the car for his entire visit; he return a few months later and Eden was still in the CD player. My friend nearly had a conniption on the spot).

I park in the same spot every single day at work and I always take the stairs down the parking garage to the skywalk. I get cranky if the usual guard isn't by the door to wave and smile at me; the other guard doesn't seem as friendly somehow. At the office, first thing I do after logging on to AIM and the stock exchange ticker, I check my email. Then it's a quick check of the day's headlines etc., and by around 9:45, I'm ready to start working. Sometimes we run down to the Mexican place for a breakfast taco. My work day is also fiercely regimentated, with several deadlines over the course of the day. The afternoon deadlines are the killer ones, and I start to get cranky when we get close and there's work still left to be done. Sometimes I'm fearful, that because I am such a creature of routine, that if I'm working a routine job, one of these days I'll just turn into some automaton or something.

At home, after work, the routine is usually either to head to class/gym or a walk with my friend in the evening. Then it's back home for dinner and I watch one episode of the X-Files every night (two episodes on Saturday and Sunday). Then, if there's time after doing homework for class or my 'reading time' -- usually about an hour in the evenings -- I'll get online and see what's going on. Then it's time for a shower, and more reading in bed. In the morning, I get up and do it all over again.

Lately, the one change has been I've been doing some homework in the mornings. I think that's a remnant of my grad school days where homework used to go on until close to midnight, and then I'd wake up super early in the morning, around 6 am, to keep going. Somehow, I'm still more alert and eager to do homework first thing in the morning. Bills, btw, also get paid first thing in the morning. Also, Tuesdays are starting to turn into television nights at my friend's place, as she's got cable and I've got a thing for Outback Jack.

So there you have it. The life of Seema, aka the cure for insomnia. (Why yes, I have run out of things to blog about).

My own personal Paleolithic

When I whip out my cell-phone these days, the expressions of horror on people's faces is almost too much to handle. They stare at it, with a mixture of awe and disgust, and they say, "What is that?" The question itself is silly; Alexander Graham Bell set up the first telephone exchange in 1878 and surely, even for late adopters, everyone must know what a telephone is by now, yes? However, my cell phone is a novelty, because it's a model from 1999 and (gasp!), I'm still using it!

Add to that that I don't own a digital camera (or heck, any camera at all), my stereo is over a decade old -- high school graduation present -- and my television is getting close to that age (21st birthday present). I do have a fairly nifty DVD player, but that's because of my brother, but my VCR is also from the last century. I still listen to tapes, I don't own an IPod or a scanner, nor do I have any intentions of getting either. I don't have a nifty plug-in hard drive, or 80 gazillion CDs. I still record on VHS because I don't have TIVO, nor do I have digital cable; only the networks play at Casa Seema. No high-speed internet either here -- I'm proud to say I've been on dial-up since 1991. Go me!

The thing is, the fact that I choose not to upgrade myself is a personal decision. Why spend $200 on a new phone when the one from the previous century still works? Seriously. Call me. You'll see that I'll pick up. The phone works great. I find that the Kodak disposable cameras coupled with SnapFish solves the digital camera problem (a problem I was actually unaware I had until someone informed me that I was so behind) and as for the high-speed internet, well, maybe it's the right choice for you, not for me. I'm happy for you, and you should be happy for me.

I think it's cool some people like to go out and buy new stuff and constantly upgrade. I like that they have that confidence and desire. I don't. I'm very much of the opinion if that it works fine, then there's no need to replace it. Also, if I've gone without for a while, I don't ever see the need. Except for the ironing board -- I went without for quite a while and finally, I had had it; push came to shove, the wrinkles weren't coming out, and I needed an ironing board like no one's business. I love me my IKEA ironing board, because I genuinely needed the board and I use it almost every morning.

I like to keep life simple and uncluttered. I don't want to be out there getting the latest Blackberry or worrying that my phone just isn't cool enough. So I download something 30 minutes slower than someone else -- heck, I was going to be online anyways for that amount of time, so what's the difference? So don't worry about me, sitting here typing away on a 'slow' connection. I'm doing just fine. As long as one has the basics, the Stone Age can be a very nice place to be.

More write stuff

In response to my post below on writing, Alex Voy responds: " How about the end of 'A Tale of Two Cities' -- "It is a far, far better thing I do" etc ? "It" and "thing" may be vague, but they make a great line that remains with anyone who's read the book. Maybe Dickens could afford to break the rules."

I thought I should clarify what I meant by the limited use and vagaries of "this," "that," "it," and "those." Words like the ones I just mentioned are not necessarily specific in meaning unless the author makes the meaning specific. That doesn't mean you shouldn't use them -- it just means you should take another look to make sure you cannot use something more specific instead. For instance, you can write "I'm going to pick them up tonight" and the reader is left wondering, what is them referring to? You can qualify it either with "groceries" -- ie, "I'm going to pick the groceries up tonight" or have a previous sentence between so specific that the second one doesn't necessarily need to be so.

Example: He moved the chair so I could sit in it.

It's obvious 'it' refers to the chair in the above example. Something less concrete than that would be:

I sat down on it.

Sat down on what? A rock? A bench? A sofa? That's all I really meant by saying "it" et al were vague if not set up properly. And in the above example, it doesn't take much more effort to write "I sat down on the chair" and the reader will understand immediately what a chair is.

It's always better to be more specific rather than not. "Rose" is more descriptive than "red flower," "golden retriever" more specific than "dog", etc. Ayn Rand says there should be no question about what you as the author really mean by the words you use. If you say "rose", you do not mean a "lily," etc. There should be, in other words, no subtext unless you as the author intended for there to be so. That way there's no need for the reader to interpret anything other than what you've intended to put there.

CNN.com - Trojan virus attacks popular Web sites - Jun 25, 2004 -- in other words, why Mozilla is a superior browser to IE.

Word

Once again Ellen Goodman says things way better than I ever could.

In other news, you may now officially call me 'Noah'. I'm contemplating asking MTV's "Pimp My Ride" to turn my trusty Corolla into a boat.

On writing

I picked up The Art of Fiction by Ayn Rand from the library yesterday. The book is highly recommended by jemima.

What I appreciate most about this slim volume is its logic and clarity of purpose. Most of all, it all makes perfect sense, especially when it comes to using language as objective rather than subjective -- that there should be no hidden meanings or motives in the word choice, thus eliminating all debate of whether indeed there is subtext. I finally understand what my 12th grade teacher was all about when he harrangued us to become specific with our meanings, rather than using vague terminology such as "it" and "that" and "those", for it allows us as readers to draw our own conclusion when the writer herself isn't clear and specific about what she means.

About theme and plot, Rand makes it very clear that characters must have choice, that they cannot react to what happens to them, acceptance of fate, if you will. If things simply happen and for that reason the character moves in response, then that's boring -- that's not what we as readers want to read. Indeed, it makes the job as a writer harder because then it's necessary to come up with several things that just coincidentally happen to the protogonist and where's the interest and promise in that?

Rand writes: "Coincidence is always bad in writing, and it's disastrous in plot writing. Only lesser plot writers, usually bad mystery novelists, characteristically employ coincidence, though some great writers, like Hugo, are guilty of it at times. But it is to be avoid at all costs. A plot represents free will and a man's achievement of, or at least struggle, for his purpose -- and coincidence is irrelevent to anyone's choice or purpose. It can happen in life, but it is meaningless. So do not write the kind of stories in which conflict is suddenly resolved by a natural disaster, such as a flood or an earthquake that conveniently kills the villain at the right moment."

We often refer to these coincidences as plot devices or deux ex machina, but sometimes it's just plain silly. Stranding two unlikely people on a planet or causing injury to one so another has to take care of the first and in both situations, undying love is finally confessed -- these are occurrances of coincidence, contriving a situation that forces an outcome, rather than allowing for a natural one. In other words, the author shows her hand very clearly in such a scenario and the ending is a foregone conclusion. And as such, the suspense is eliminated and the story uninteresting to the reader.

Respect the H

En classe today, we were introduced to the Germanic H and the Latin H. Somehow, I muddled through Very Many Years (tm) of French without being aware of the existence of either a Germanic H or a Latin H. But there is a never a dull moment when it comes to French grammar (I have a very haphazard approach to French grammar to begin with, forgetting most of the rules and just throwing articles and genders at a page/conversation and hoping one of them sticks) and hence, I should not have been surprised by the sudden emergence of a second H.

The second H -- the Germanic H -- is also not pronounced, a la the Latin H; however, unlike the Latin H, there is no liasion with the Germanic H. Hence, a Latin H will blend together with its article -- le, la, les -- wheres a Germanic H has no blending, no liasion. An example of a Latin H is l'homme -- man -- and a Germanic H would be Le Hollande (the country). The first example is literally pronounced lohm, while the second is Le Ollande. Got it?

Apparently the Germanic H is prevalent in English too. Words like hero and heir are Germanic -- we don't pronounce the 'h' for those words. The Latin H in English is in words like 'hair'. I'm so glad I take French lessons -- finally, I'm getting some English grammar lessons!

In other news, il fait pleut beaucoup. In other words, living in a swamp is vastly overrated and I've never seen so much rain before in my life. Unfortunately, it's going to rain all through the weekend. This is no good because a group of us are going to the amusement park on Sunday and it'll be no fun getting rained out. I also had the experience of driving very slowly through 'Lake University' as a good chunk of the road at the university was under water. However, a Honda Civic ahead of me made it through with no problems and I'm proud to report my sturdy and dependable Corolla was also able to ford the water.

The one good thing about the copious rain is that many large flying critters with at least six legs met their end on my windshield this past weekend; this rain thankfully eliminated bug guts from the wipers, winshield and whatever that front grate thing is on a car. Also, that nice layer of pollen that accumulates every now and then, that's gone too. Cross car-wash off my list of things to do, thankyouverymuch.

I have six invitations for Gmail. Please leave a comment with your email address if you'd like a gmail account.

Tennis - Navratilova marks singles return with easy victory

A question of faith

The recent UN report on WMDs in Iraq has all sorts of spin attached to it, depending on what parts you read, what parts you didn't. Some reports on what the UN came up with were more accurate than others but don't take it from me -- read the report yourself and judge for yourself.

My personal interest in this story stems from this misleading story published by the World Tribune News -- a story with a headline that's guaranteed to attract attention, but with no actual content to back up the headline. But yet, it made the airwaves, specifically on Rush Limbaugh's show, where he trumpted on air that "There’s a piece in the World Tribune today—one of the papers in the United Kingdom—exactly as theorized on this program early on," he said on his radio show. "It’s unconfirmed, but it’s a story that many of the weapons of mass destruction are at present buried in the Bekaa Valley of Lebanon."

I did a little more of my own digging on the World Tribune since in general, for a news organization, it seems rather shoddy and haphazard work. To slap such a wrong headline on a story is nothing short of irresponsible and perpetuates the idea that media is biased. Yes, there is very much a liberal slant to most media, but news flash: conservatives do it too. You can read more about what the World Tribune really is here, but in general, just poke around a little bit and you'll see that even the National Enquirer is a more reliable source of information.

But. Back to Rush. On his website, he had transcripts of the phone calls he took regarding the above article (unfortunately the transcript has disappeared off the front page and I'm not masochistic enough to become a member of Rush's fan club and look for it -- you'll just have to take it on faith that I'm accurately reporting here) and one caller said re the article that the liberals won't believe it until they get an exact address of where the WMDs are.

And I had to stop right there. Did they actually read the article or just the headline? And in response to the caller's snide comments about the unbelieving liberals, my response is, So what? When you declare war on another sovereign nation based on a certain intelligence and perceived threat, when you pre-emptively do so without the support of much of the world community, when you embark on a mission that will eventually cost hundreds of American lives and thousands of Iraqi lives, what is so wrong with demanding proof? Must we always believe our politicians, regardless of party affiliation, and take it on blind faith? Or rather, as members of a democracy, isn't it our right and obligation to demand the facts and explanations?

A friend once told me he believed the president because the president has intelligence we don't have access to. That very well may be the truth, but given the high cost, given the questions raised, what is the president waiting for? For George W. Bush, he could shut up a whole bunch of yappering liberals and handily win re-election if he just showed us the proof. The fact that more people were concerned about the cigar affair Clinton had the bad judgement to enter into and not the blood price being paid on Iraqi soil is nothing short of stunning. If we can say that having an affair with an intern and lying to one's wife and child makes for a lousy president, what do we say about a president who tells a story that costs more than just hurt feelings? Who do we hold accountable and why is it wrong to not do so?

There will always be the 'left' truth and the 'right' truth and what we really need is somewhere is in the middle. Each type requires a certain amount of blind faith and allegience to the standard bearer. Sometimes though, it's good to break away and ask. And more importantly, read beyond the headlines and do some of your own research. You'll be surprised what turns up when it's no longer just a matter of faith.

Does Your Vote Count?

This google toolbar makes it way to easy to blog on the fly. Must. Be. Strong.

Virginia's New Jim Crow.

Harvard Professor: Liberal Media is No Myth -- this is the text of the Business Week article cited in the earlier entry (below) today.

The way of the media

I'm always interested in how media covers a particular story and what inherent bias there is in the story itself. Business Week had an interesting article about whether there is a leftist/liberal slant in the media and came away with the conclusion that yes, there is; in fact, my favorite news source, Newsweek, is possibly the most liberal out there. What was surprising about that article was that FOX News, considered the Bush cheerleading squad, isn't quite as conservative as people think it is. ABC News and The News Hour with Jim Lehrer were considered the most balanced news outlets out there, according to the article.

So what's this all leading up to? We all read what we want to read and we get the information our sources give us. We go for the comfort zone of not necessarily having our ideas challenged or the way we think questioned; consider it a media-sanctioned 'amen corner'. We can give ourselves a little pat on the back every time the media outlet of our choice validates our own opinions. There's no reason to question or dig deeper because hey, we got what we wanted to get, and voila, end of story. Another opinion and ingrained. The only way to get out of that is to spend the time to read numerous sources of news -- Google News makes it a lot easier because it collects news from around the world and you can read varying world opinion and why, oh why, is it such a bad thing to read opposing views every now and then? I do read conservative blogs/media just because I'm curious to know what's going on on 'the other side'.

Here's a good example of the difference between two outlets with very different slants and agendas. CNN's lead story's headline reads: 9/11 staff: No al Qaeda cooperation with Iraq. The World Tribune's lead story's headline reads: U.S. wants armed security guards for Olympics team. Which is true? Which story is more accurate? Who knows? I like CNN because it agrees with me and so I feel validated -- no link and hence, I stop right there. ETA: Even FOX News is carrying this story prominently on its front page.

It's interesting that we need the 9/11 commission to issue a report on this after Cheney and Bush both said not too long ago that there was no link between Iraq and Saddam. Yet 75 percent of Americans persist in believing that was a link. You can't have it both ways -- one or the other side of the media is lying and we'll always believe it's the other side -- the conservatives accuse the liberals of covering up the ties, the liberals accuse the conservaties of creating ties. Me myself, I prefer the World News which reported a couple months ago that Saddam and Osama are actually lovers -- now there's a story I can get behind!

Just something to think about.

TIME.com: Meet Joe Blog -- Jun. 21, 2004

Whee! CNN.com - Yahoo e-mail battles Google's Gmail - Jun 15, 2004. And this comes after my 'everything' move to gmail. Maybe it's time to reconsider moving some stuff back to Yahoo.

Things that annoy me

Because it's been that kind of day. In no particular order.

1. Drivers who treat parking lots and parking garages as their personal Indy 500.

2. People who double-dip. You break off a piece of bread/chip, dip, eat, and then you take a clean bread/chip, dip, eat. See how easy this is?

3. Hitting every single red light on a 5-mile stretch of road, especially when there is no traffic.

4. Thongs hanging out over the waist band of jeans. Please. Only one person managed to successfully carry off the underwear on the outside of her clothes thing. You are not her.

5. Very private Top Sekrit cell phone conversations carried out in public. TJ Maxx? Not the place to break up with your boyfriend. Seriously. Don't do it. Yes, he might be an idiot, but we think you're one too.

6. Chairs reclining all the way on an airplane so that suddenly my drink is in my lamp and a perfect stranger's head is in kissable distance. Why, hello there.

7. The common cold. Seriously. Not quite the plague but just as evil and debilitating.

8. Running out of toothpaste when you have no spare toothpaste.

9. Companies with no idea of customer service when you are paying them monthly for a service that they cannot successfully carry out on a month-to-month timeline.

10. 100 percent humidity.

As my crankiness persists, I reserve the right to further update this list with More Things that Annoy Me (tm). You are welcome to share your personal grievances/annoyances with me as well. I'm just in that kind of whiney, ranting mood. Why yes, you should back away from the crazy girl; try not to make any quick movements.

Link number two: Broadcasting the personal. Amen.

Being Bilingual Could Protect Your Brain.

What's for dinner?

A better question would be, what's not for dinner? With 4+ hours suddenly erased from my week due to my class starting up this week, I dragged myself to the grocery store in preparation. Mind you, I'm still infected with the plague and muscles I didn't know I had are screaming in agony. But a girl has to eat, so off to the grocery store I went and when I came back, I made the following items:

• Marinated mushrooms
  
• Oriental green beans
  
• Gazpacho soup
  
• Feta cheese and potato patties
  
• Red onion and goat cheese pastries
  
• Tomato & Mozarella pasta
  

I had also planned to make an apple pie and red onion and pepper fusilli but I ran out of steam at that point. I won't be back home until close to 10 pm tomorrow night, and given that I'm still infected with the plague, I probably won't get around to the fusilli and the pie until Tuesday night. It really depends on how the other things I made hold up -- if I can get to Thursday without running out of food, I'll be very, very happy.

If any of you would like the recipes for any of the above, please let me know and I'll post them -- am too tired to blog them now -- but the soup and the mushrooms are both served cold and are perfect for hot weather. For the pasta, the tomato and mozarella 'sauce' can be made ahead of time and can be marinated -- just mix it in with the pasta hot off the stove whenever you like. The red onion and goat cheese pastries are super easy and super light and super tasty -- phyllo dough is the bestest substance on the planet, I've decided.

Gazpacho is an acquired taste, and I like mine pretty well pureed, but my blender refused to work today, so instead it was rather chunky -- still, it's perfect for a hot summer. I had the most trouble with the potato patties because I steamed the green beans over the same pot I was boiling the potatoes in -- except I didn't let the potatoes boil long enough, so I ended up having to microwave the potatoes to soften them up and then mashed them with my fingers; the leftover goat cheese went into the potatoes as well as the feta, but it all seems to have worked out just fine.

And now, for the second time this week, it's bed before 10 pm. Though, still later than last week, when I hit the sack around 8:15. Now that's early. And on that note, good night, moon.

Splitsville

As a corollery to Wedding Bells, I give you Rush's third divorce. File this one under 'ironic'. I guess if you have the right to get married as many times as you want to, as long as it's the person of the opposite gender, there's no harm done in getting tired of one spouse and trying on another. One of these days, Rush and J. Lo should hook up and exchange war stories on how they turned marriage into a hobby, rather than a lifelong thing.

Wedding bells

I'm always pleasantly surprised by people's consideration for other's people's time, so I'm extremely grateful to the Chortler for coming up with a J. Lo Wedding Tracker. You no longer have to depend on moi for J. Lo updates -- go there and the Chortler will tell you exactly who she's married to at any given moment in time. For instance, the time now is 10:17A.M. and Jennifer Lopez is currently married to LARRY KING. So now you know.

Spin doctors

I was pointed in the direction of this article this evening with the headline trumpeting "UN inspectors: Saddam shipped out WMD before war and after." I was able to immediately discount the article based on my status as a card-carrying bleeding heart liberal but it was a misspelling (Destionations) that really did me in -- politics aside, I cannot take a journalistic organization seriously if they cannot even spell the word 'destinations' -- because obviously, if it hadn't rated on google news, how could it possibly be true?

After much searching, I did find some more articles on the issue here. What fascinated me was the spin. In the World Tribune article, it says Saddam was shipping out the WMD components before the war began last summer and continued to do during the war. However, the World Tribune article also says Perricos also reported that inspectors found Iraqi WMD and missile components shipped abroad that still contained UN inspection tags.. In other words, the stuff we already knew about. As my boss would say, that's not news if we already knew about it. Reading other articles on the subject which show up on google news seem to make it clear that this exporting of WMD components has been actively taking place over the last year -- under US watch -- from unguarded and unsecured locations in Iraq.

A story from Pakistan says Perricos briefed the Security Council on his recent report that showed satellite pictures of the engines discovered in the Netherlands and a site in Iraq stripped of its equipment, possibly by looters. To me, it sounds as if the World Tribune is trying to make a tenuous tie between Saddam and looters, ignoring the fact Saddam was probably way too busy crawling from spider hole to spider hole to export metal out of Iraq. The Indianapolis Star reports Equipment and material that could have been used to produce banned weapons and long-range missiles have been removed from Iraqi sites since the war started and shipped abroad, the head of the U.N. inspectors office told the Security Council on Wednesday.

Since the war started. Key words to note. Who knows what Saddam was doing with his WMD program before while under the watch of the UN, but since the US has kicked the UN inspectors out in March of 2003, who's keeping an eye on the WMD potpurri? Aren't we ostensibly over there to make the world a safer place to be and meanwhile, WMD components marked with UN tags are being hustled across the border and sent to the Netherlands (among other places) under the eyes of the liberators themselves?

I'll concede Iraq and Saddam had the components to make WMDS at some point in time, but is that enough to pre-emptively declare war on another sovereign nation? Especially if the World Tribune is right and they were being dismantled and shipped around the world in the early part of 2003 -- if the WMDs were dismantled, then Saddam did what he was supposed to do and we had no right to go in there and kick him out of power, no matter how big a beastie he was. You can't go into another country pre-emptively saying, "Oh, he's got WMDs" and come out saying, "We're liberators and we've saved people from Saddam." Great. Now if it's saving the world from the classroom bully we're so keen on these days, I humbly submit that perhaps the Sudanese would appreciate some liberation as well.

We'd be hard-pressed to find a direct threat to our security from Saddam's regime, considering that Saddam probably had higher priority targets on his hit list than the Americans. In truth, the only people who really needed to fear Saddam's WMDs were the ones who lived under his tyrannical rule -- the Kurds -- and also his neighbors, the Iranians and the Kuwaitis. We ought to be more afraid of the Saudi Arabians, where most of the 9/11 hijackers came from. We ought to be more afraid of North Korea, which is ruled by a crazy dictator who admittedly has nuclear weapons and WMDs, but we can't win a conflict with North Korea, nor does North Korea have oil. If you're going to pick a fight with a bully, it makes sense to pick one you can beat up easily and figure out the reasons for throwing the first punch after the fact and hope no one notices.

New neighbors

In this age of rather sterile "who the heck lives next door to me?", I've taken to identifying inhabitants in my complex with the vehicles and/or pets they own. For instance, I was quite familiar with the big beautiful dog who lived across the way until recently, but never saw his (her?) owner ever. And now, a Hummer has moved into our complex.

The Hummer is all black, and is huge; I imagine someone of my size would need a ladder to get into it -- the size you find on a fire-truck will probably do the trick. It literally takes up two spots on the first floor of the garage; while the owner is inconsiderate enough to drive a tank in the face of rising gas prices, I do have to give him (her?) props for a) parking on the ground floor so the weight of the Black Beast doesn't crush all the cars on lower levels and b) for parking next to the often stinky dumpster since no one else wants to park there.

Still, I can't help but wonder what possibly must be going on in the owner's mind that he (she?) feels the need to drive around the city in a hummer? Granted, this isn't Mr. Rogers' neighborhood by any stretch of the imagination, but I didn't think it was so bad that even going to Target these days required such armament! Every time I drive past that vehicle (we-HICK-cahl in the military) on my way to work, I wonder what exactly does the owner do in his (her?) spare time that necessitates a hummer? Since it's hopefully not to make trips to Target, I'm forced to concoct romantical adventures of the swashbucking and bodice-ripping variety -- though with more leather and steel than your standard romance novel allows for.

One option is that Hummer!Owner is searching out various potholes, traffic jams, and closed intersections. In cases like this, it makes total sense that this person needs a Hummer -- intersections are quite frequently closed here for traffic, usually at major highway interchanges -- and driving over the cars in your way would be a good way to get out of such a pickle; in fact, it's probably something the emergency service workers ought to try. I know I'd feel a lot safer if I was being driven to the hospital in a tank rather than a tin can. Probably get there faster too.

The other option is that Hummer!Owner is interested in covert operations, though how you can be stealthy sneaky in a hummer is beyond my comprehension. I suspect if indeed Hummer!Owner is in covert operations, he (she) works at night. I deduce this because the hummer is black, not camuflauge, in color, and beyond that, we don't have much in the way of trees in this part of the world -- well, except where the rich people live, but that's another story entirely. So if you're going to be sneaky, I'm not sure the Hummer is the way to go, but it's one explanation -- the armor is certainly there.

Plus, the Hummer is always there when I leave for work around 8:50 am, so this also leads me to believe that either a) Hummer!Owner sleeps in because he (she) has been saving our city from either Those Who Walk In the Dark or Potholes/Traffic James, or b) Hummer!Owner is completely depressed by rising gasoline prices and realizes that he (she) has to take out a small loan every time he (she?) wants to drive the tank around.

Your thoughts on why people would drive a Hummer are greatly appreciated. And if you tell me to go to Target or Wal-Mart, I'm going to hurt you. Anyone who has the money to spend on a gas guzzling Hummer really ought to be shopping at say, Tiffany's or Saks Fifth Avenue. I'm just sayin'.

Write about it

I just wrote an email to Colgate Oral Care about their new toothpaste completely decimating my mouth, wah! This is not the first time this has happened and A. very kindly suggested I should start writing down the names of toothpastes I have allergic reactions to so I do not buy the the toothpaste again. Currently, my symptoms include botox-style lips, tiny tiny ulcers all over my mouth, and skin burned off my newly enlarged lips. I have switched back to regular Colgate; if the past is any indication, it'll take about a week for this situation to heal. In the meantime, I've discovering that eating and drinking is my new form of masochism -- nothing like a burning tingle every time you eat a piece of bread or drink wine!

Home sweet home

So I'm back! I'll give further details about the Boston Meander of 2004 at another time, but suffice it to say, I wandered my way through the cow paths -- in 10-inch platform shoes, no less -- and still managed to avoide getting smushed by the T. I also had the honor of meeting the Mac, which undoubtedly would be the highlight of any trip to Beantown.

However, it's getting home that's interesting because that's when you find out what's been going on while you were incommunicado. I was feeling sorry for J. Lo because of her break-up with Ben Affleck, but I shouldn't have worried -- J. Lo has gotten married again and this time to singer Marc Anthony. And oooh, there are reports of Baby Lopez too. Wedding pictures, for the curious, are here. Don't worry about not being able to see J. Lo's face clearly or at all in these photographs and don't despair that her wedding cake-style dress is not described in enough detail to get one of your own; wait six months, and no doubt, Jenny from the Block will be giving nupital bliss a fourth go around. Lucky for Jennifer Lopez, three strikes and you're out doesn't seem to apply to marriage.

Leaving on a jet plane

Jemima wants to know, "Is planning with Seema always this complex?" The answer is yes, but tentatively I have plans. It's all still complicated and messy in my head because nothing can be simple, not in Seema!world. That being said, I'm really looking to get away this weekend and just forget about stuff. My stuff and me will be wandering around Boston for the next few days. Your regularly scheduled blog programming will resume on Tuesday evening.

Good things come...

So right, the apartment odyssey is officially over and not a minute too soon. I was really, really looking forward to some good news, and just having something good happen, y'know? And I came home today, fully prepared to cough up the increased rent amount and voila, note on my door and voice mail on my machine -- they are renewing me at the same rate I've been paying for the last nine months! Whoohooo! I so didn't expect that considering just how far below market value I am, but they came through.

So glad I waited, so glad I didn't jump the gun and sign another lease on Saturday at one of the less superior apartments. And also, so glad I didn't get a free moment yesterday to call up and say I'd rent at the higher rate for 6 months. By waiting, this all paid off handsomely. Very, very nice and I'm thrilled to pieces -- I love my apartment and I love my area; I had no idea how much until I was forced to look around and just see how lucky I was. More importantly, I don't have to move in the month of July. This, my friends, is big.

And now, I must sleep, because I'm no longer as young as I once was and staying up all night (seriously) and then finally deciding to try and sleep at 6 am only to wake up at 7:30 to go to work -- well, it's not quite the lifestyle I can handle these days. It's all Rocky's fault (tm).

Lost in translation

Tonight was my placement test. I was actually pretty calm going into it, even when they handed me the 60-question examen and then said there would be an oral en francais component. I figured that the oral would be a piece of cake, that I'd stumbled on the written part. For, you see, writing in French has never been my strong suit. I managed to avoid grammar for my last two years in high school by going into the literature track. Which means I can read 16th century French lit and speak well, but cannot write to save my life.

Well, it was the exact opposite. I did fine on the reading and better than I expected on the written part. The meltdown came during the oral part of the examination. I lost it about thirty seconds after Madame said bonjour and it was all downhill from there. It was frankly quite embarassing. Especially the part where I couldn't remember the word for brother. ::facepalm:: The word for sister? Right there at the very tip of my tongue, but not brother -- frère, yes, yes, I've got it now, but what good does it do me now? If I'd had half a brain, I would have invented a soeur on the spot.

Trust me. It gets worse. Much worse.

I couldn't remember the word for 'little'. Couldn't remember 'petit' to save my life -- I was fixated on the same word in another language. Every time I tried to come up with a word, this other language which I most recently heard yesterday came to the forefront and gained ascendency over poor French. Madame was staring at me in a mixture of horror and pity. I thought about talking about the war of languages in my head, that one language was fighting for supremacy over the other and was winning, but then she'd think I was psycho and I'd end up kicked out of the program and across the street at the World Famous Medical Center (tm), with a padded room to call my own and a wardrobe entirely consisting of white garments with lots of buckles being the uniform du jour. See? I can so come up with the right words not under pressure. ::nods::

I honestly think it should be okay, in foreign language classes, to substitute words from other languages at a moment's notice when the right language doesn't come to mind. I'm just sayin'. The results come out on Friday, I think, and I'm a little pensive about what it all will mean.

It was... so not good.

Rest, relaxation and retail

Given that this the 1,200th post to this blog, it seems anticlimatic to talk about what I didn't do on Memorial Day and trust you me, the list of things I should have done was quite long -- somehow, I just melted from the heat and just never got going on some of those things.

Instead, I watched an episode and a half of the X-Files, took a nap, went out at the hottest time of the day for a walk, and then I watched some really bad reality television. And oh yes, I cooked for tonight and tomorrow night's dinners, and I may have done some dishes in between -- not quite sure. It's amazing how when you live alone, you find yourself lapsing into "Oh, I'll do that later," because honestly, unless company is coming over, there is no incentive to clean anything immediately. Unless, of course, you've created new life forms -- which I have done in the past -- and then out comes the Lysol etc.

I did go shopping today and I bought three new skirts. It's summer here and the skirts are a necessity. I don't really wear shorts except to the gym, so I needed something more casual than what I wear to work. All three of the skirts are knee-length and two are black and one is an olive green. One of the black skirts has a funky cut-out design on it over a white underskirt and the other one has a nice lacey fringe at the bottom of it. Both are linen. The third skirt is just your run of the mill khaki skirt. I was wearing a khaki skirt today and noticed that no matter where I went, that was the skirt de jour. I think it's one of those things when you've got a heightened sense of something, you see it everywhere.

I also drove down to the big university, my brother's alma mater, as a matter of fact, to check out where my placement test will be. There's something really awful about university maps. I swear, they forget to label half of the streets and it's not to scale, and there are no signs saying, "This is the Continuing Studies building." So I kept driving around in circles and finally found it about 10 minutes later. Now the scheduling of said-test is a little dicey, but we'll see if I can work something out with the boss tomorrow.

This completely rambling nonsensical blog has been brought to you by the letter S. I can't promise more intelligent commentary tomorrow -- go see jemima for that -- but I plead debilitating heat as my excuse. Uh-huh.

About that relaxing weekend...

So far, so busy. After putzing around this morning, I went to renegotiate my lease. And once again, no go. The manager wasn't in, so I still don't have an answer on whether I'm coming or going. After that disappointment, I walked down to Walgreen's, looking for hair dye, hair ties and toothpaste. By the time I hoofed it back, I was absolutely dying from the heat and I had a nice shiny perspiration glow to me.

I relaxed a little bit after coming back, watched the rest of "3" (X-Files, season 2) that I had started yesterday and had a couple of hard-boiled eggs for lunch. Then it was off to look at apartments. I looked at a total of four complexes this afternoon and in between, stopped randomly to get my hair cut.

The apartments I looked at were mostly super nice; I say 'mostly' because one was on the older side with a microwave oven from the 80s and the landscaping was dodgy, compared to other places I've been. What I have learned is that apartments comparable to mine are way more expensive than what they're offering to renew me at. The truth is, I have to make a choice here. I can pay less and get a smaller place and potentially have to pay extra for the washer/dryer, or I can suck it up and pay the extra $70/month.

For the most part, I'm very pleased with my apartment, with the floorplan, etc. Some of the apartments I looked at today have a laundry room that opens on the bathroom, which I would much prefer compared to mine -- which opens on the kitchen. All of the apartments I looked at today had kitchens the same size as mine, whereas the ones earlier in the week were smaller. None of them had a gym quite as nice as the one here, and one was downright tiny, as if it were an afterthought.

So, the jury is still out. I'm supposed to talk to the manager on Tuesday -- I think it comes down to who blinks first. Now that I've seen a total of seven complexes, I realize that I got very lucky here and that even the increased rent is less than what other places are asking for.

And oh yes, I came home and baked a blueberry coffee cake and watched some of "One Breath" (X-Files, season 2). Now, I'm going to get ready to go out for an overnight, with a stop at IKEA on my way. Will be back sometime tomorrow afternoon. See you all then.

A roof over my head

So in a few minutes, I go to negotiate with apartment people for my lease. After seeing three apartments in three days, I've got a fairly good idea of what the market looks like and damn, if I didn't get an awesome deal with this apartment. After calculating the costs, etc., I've come up with a resistance level -- in other words, it doesn't make sense to move if I don't save at least a certain amount of money. If moving and the rent increase are approximately equal, then there's no reason to move. Right now, the way the new rent is, it's cheaper to move. But if I get them to come down even $30, it'll be cheaper to stay.

Costs associated with moving include the usual phone hook-up and in this area, satellite television hook-up. That's $100 right there. Application fees average around $35 (I've seen as high as $50). There's a new 'administrative' fee two of the apartments I looked at require, so that averages to $100. One apartment complex is waiving the deposit, another is saying half-off on the refundable part of the deposit, and a third is not budging. The average of all that is $112.50. That's a total of $347.50; granted, the last item may change depending on the apartment, but I figure I need to calculate in the potential expense.

And for simplicity's sake, I'm rounding up to $400, because there may be other expenses I'm not considering. Moving isn't a real expense -- I'll either use Move for Free or my boss and a co-worker have offered to help me; gotta figure in pizza and beer for them, if that's the case (g). Pro-rate that over 12 months and it equals approximately $34. So theoretically, I can take an increase of about $34/month and that'll be breaking even between this place and a new one. An increase of more than $40/month, I'll move.

Wish me luck!

This and that

I've looked at two apartments so far and the two I've seen so far just convince me of the vast superiority of my current place (g). It's getting hot here and I'm just not ready for the summer heat this year. It could be because I can't see an end to Crazy RL until the end of July; if only this apartment situation would resolve itself! If it's not one thing, it's another. But then I remind myself of my blessings and it keeps me thankful and grateful for what I do have; all of these are just road bumps.

I wrote a lot of emails tonight, believe it or not. Mostly to people who probably have given up on me and don't ever expect to hear from me again. In all of the mess that has happened in the last few months, I sorely neglected many people -- either by email or telephone -- and I feel bad about it. Sometimes it gets a bit overwhelming trying to keep up and I'm amazed at how other people do it. I'm not going to promise to do better, because well, I know I should, but right now, I don't think I can make those kinds of promises. I'm just going to do it as I can and hope people understand.

And did I mention that it's hot here?

Tonight, I also installed the latest version of Lavasoft's Ad-Aware since my computer sorely needs to be cleaned. After running Ad-Aware, I discovered my computer is crazy infected with something called Wild Tangent. You can read more about that here. I haven't decided whether to delete the files or not yet, mostly because I either got it from AIM or Lemonade Tycoon. I could switch over to Trillian and Lemonade Tycoon is rather dull, so maybe it's no big loss. If any of you have any advice, please let me know.

Exit Strategy - How to leave Iraq in three simple steps. By George Saunders -- And now you know.

The Seattle Times: Local News: Why the Puget Sound area pays more at the pump -- This is good article on why gasoline prices fluctuate etc. Yes, it's geared for the Puget Sound area, but the philosophy/theory/causes are pretty much universal.

Miscellany updates

I've been using the Google toolbar at work to block pop-ups on that insidious piece of software called Internet Explorer, and along with allowing me to search google directly from the address line, it also allows me to blog any article that I see that I think is worth blogging. Which is kind of cool and convenient, because the old method required me to come to blogger, log-in, and then blog the article. I know, I know. In the old days, you had to write your own blog software.

I haven't been writing much lately and in an odd way, I'm not missing it. This is a completely weird feeling to have, just because I used to feel lost when I wasn't writing. Now I'm just in one of those long blah spells where the muse just won't cooperate and I have little to no story ideas and even less motivation to get the writing done. I was sad about it earlier, but now I realize it's wrong to force the muse. She'll come back when and if she wants to come back. So, yeah, no updates on writing projects any more -- the WiP list just stresses the muse out.

For Memorial Day, I plan to just laze around and, among other things, renegotiate my lease. If I can't get my lease renegotiated, most of Saturday will be spent trying to find a new place. I'm inclined to stay right where I am, but when my renewal letter arrived yesterday, they had raised my rent by $70. I did the math -- even with moving expenses (and I plan to use Move for Free), it'd be cheaper to find another place in the same neighborhood. So I'm going to call the complex this morning and ask them to reconsider -- I think they're more afraid of losing me as a tenant than I am to move.

BTW, the apartment people are very insidious also, with their renewal letters. I went at the beginning of the month to talk about renewal and they said they couldn't talk until I got my letter. So I waited and waited and yesterday, as I was leaving work, I told my boss that I was running out of time -- 60 days notice would have to be given this Sunday if I decided to move. Well, then I came home to find the letter stuck on my door. Which gives me less than a week to negotiate and see what else is available in the neighborhood. Part of the problem is, I was misled into thinking that my rent would be the same by the apartment people, so I didn't use this past weekend to go apartment shopping. Big mistake. They purposely, I think, did it that way so I'd be forced to pay the higher rent without knowing what else was going on in the market.

So this Saturday, I'll go and check out two or three places in the area and see what they're going for. It really comes down to how much the rent difference is between places. But I'm hopeful I can get these people to come down on the rent. This neighborhood is lousy with apartments and I know I can get a good deal just across the street. Wish me luck!

Yahoo! News - Vermont Named Among Most Endangered Places. I can attest to this as my hometown stores have pretty much gone out of business due to "category killer" type stores that have sprung up in the next town over. It was very sad to go into the neighborhood bookstore where I had shopped all of my life and seeing most of the shelves empty because the owner could no longer compete. As much as I appreciate "category killers" for their low prices, I also have a strong sense of nostalgia and feeling for the mom-and-pop shops that go out of business.

The sound of music

I took a break from being a Very Bad Lemonade Tycoon to go and work out for about an hour or so this afternoon. First thing, I have to say it's super-hot out and it doesn't help that our gym looks out on the pool. I'm just saying. Second thing, when I flipped on the television, I ended up on VH-1's 50 Most Awesomely Bad Songs Countdown. The show has that same tongue-in-cheek "I'm too clever for you" vibe that the "I Love the 80s" series had, but still it was faintly amusing. Some of the song commentary made me laugh, but other times, I was shocked that my taste in music tends towards the Awesomely Bad.

I do 'fess to liking very much "I'D Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)", "You're The Inspiration", "What's Up" and "Breakfast at Tiffany's." I'm just amazed though that they selected Lionel Ritchie's "Dancing on the Ceiling" as a bad song; "Hello" has to be much, much, much worse than that and the video was much, much creepier. And please, "We Built This City on Rock and Roll" is a worse song than "Achy Breaky Heart" and "Ice Ice Baby"? With "Ice Ice Baby" and "Hangin' Tough" (the original boy band, yo!), I was so back in middle school again. (I'm also surprised Kylie Minogue's "I Can't Get You Out Of My Mind" didn't make this countdown, not to mention Leanne Rimes' "Life Goes On", which includes the lyric: "You're still thinking you're the daddy mack." I rest my case).

And now, I'm contemplating the heat and whether I want to go out and get some food for the rest of the week. And you can be sure that I'll be playing some Awesomely Bad music as I bop around town; the only thing I'm missing is the big hair and the convertible.

The Apprentice

Tonight I spent much time playing Lemonade Tycoon and failing miserably. Yes, I might be an MBA, but I cannot sell lemonade to save my life. Wah! The first time around, I eventually had to declare bankruptcy because I didn't even have $1 to buy cups so I could sell more lemonade to get myself out of bankruptcy. In challenge mode, I started out with $250, but somehow within a few days, was scrapping rock bottom. You all laugh, but it's harder than you think it is! Really!

The thing about this game is that you have to get the recipe right to match not only the venue where you're selling (in my case, the suburbs), the weather, and set the price accordingly. I have yet to figure out the appropriate recipe -- I just know that what I'm using doesn't work and I sell between 5 to 15 cups a day. Which means I'm so not getting rich fast; the ten-year old down the street is doing better than me!

I will keep you appraised of the situation as time goes on. If you're interested in playing this game, downloads are available at Yahoo! and MSN; note the free version is only good for 60 minutes. After that, you need a serial code which will cost you $19.95. About the latter, email me -- I might be able to help you out (g).

Hee!

I got this from today's Dear Abby:

I'M NOT MARRIED BECAUSE:

(1) You haven't asked me yet.

(2) Because I just love hearing people ask me that question.

(3) My fiance is waiting until after the parole is granted.

(4) I'm still hoping for a shot at Mr. America.

(5) I already have enough laundry to do, thank you!

(6) I'm afraid my parents would drop dead from sheer happiness.

(7) What? And lose all the money I've invested in personal ads?

(8) I'm married to my career -- although recently we have been considering a trial separation.

(9) If I married, I'd have to forfeit my $10 million trust fund.

Home Sweet Home

I'm back from Denver and I'm seriously dead tired because dude, I walked like miles in two major international airports lugging around the World's Heaviest Laptop, as well as my backpack. And being the sado-masochist I am, I skipped all of those moving sidewalk thingies. Now I realize that those moving sidewalk things are the airport's way of tell passengers tactfully: Your Gate Is Very Far Away, You Idiot (tm).

Plus, y'know, it's the whole thing of sleeping in a strange bed. I was staying in a very nice hotel in Denver and at $139/night, it was very luxurious and comfortable. Even so, last night I tossed and turned and ended up watching an episode of "LA Law" at 3 in the morning. This was odd because Monday night I slept extremely well and was surprised that Tuesday night didn't go so well. And then, you know how this story ends -- I fell asleep, deeply, as a matter of fact -- and then there's the cheery wake-up call, complete with weather forecast.

Anyway, the whole conference went really well. I learned a lot, schmoozed a little bit -- or as much as I can possibly schmooze. One guy did ask me why I looked so miserable, and I managed to back out of it by saying I was contemplating. He didn't believe me, but he was friendly enough, turned out he does business with my company, so there was an easy schmooze there and business cards were exchanged. I wonder what's going to happen with all the cards I handed out; I'm wondering what I'll do with the ones I collected. When working for Very Big Insurance Company, all of my business cards went into "Win a Free Lunch!" baskets (I never did, but it wasn't for lack of trying!), so the fact that I was actually trying to use my cards for the purpose they were made for is actually rather... different.

Other things I should mention: The Denver Airport has bunny rabbits and also, there was a man, a chainsaw and a block of ice. You can draw your own conclusions. Me, I'm like a tired child who is very cranky and knows she should go to bed but is resisting every step of the way.

Fan the Vote

There's a community called Fan the Vote where fan artists/writers/betas are getting together to offer their services in exchange for a donation to the John Kerry campaign or MoveOn.org. Since I live in a state where my vote is pretty much moot, I have decided to let my pocketbook vote for me. So I've already made a contribution to the campaign and in return am receiving a story from a very talented writer.

I was thinking of offering my services as well, but wasn't sure I'd have to time to write anything, especially since my muse has pretty much keeled over from exhaustion and stress. But... I can never say no to a good cause. So if you are interested, I am offering the following:

* Editing services -- $1 per 100 words. So a 1000-word story beta means you'll donate $10 to either of the organizations above.

* LJ icons of your choice -- $1/icon

* Book cover for your story -- $10/bookcover

* One short story between 1,000 - 3,000 words in the following fandoms: any Trek except TOS, JAG, X-Files, X-Men, and Gladiator. Your choice of pairing, either slash or het. $10

Leave me a comment if you're interested. Please note, it's illegal for non-US residents to contribute. Also, I need all requests and donations made before June 30. You can read more about this cause here.

Have you voted today?

Spoilers ahead for tonight's American Idol, but first, a public service message. First, I agree that gasoline prices are crazy high, that they are at record levels. I know this. I see it at the pump and I watch the exchange every single day for 9 hours (and you thought your job lacked excitement?). I keep reading about price gouging etc, but let me assure you -- this is not the case. There are about a gazillion factors driving the crude oil market right now, but the main driver is 'fear', believe it or not. We can directly tie in price spikes to events in the Middle East -- it's crazy. Add to that OPEC curtailing production, ramping down of refineries for regulatory and profit reasons, and you've got record high crude prices.

And btw, the $40/barrel that they're talking about as being highest prices since 1990 is in absolute dollars, not 1990 dollars. To buy that same barrel of oil today would be about $64, not $40, if you consider an annualized period of 14 years and an inflation of about 3.5 percent. So that $40/barrel of oil is still cheaper today than it was in 1990. Just something to think about. Also, that you probably still pay more per gallon of water/milk/juice than you do for gasoline.

And now, spoilers for American Idol ahead.

This is where you turn back if you don't want to know. With only 15 minutes left in the West Coast edition of the show, I'm not going to 'white out' the spoilers. So go! Go away now if you don't want to know what happened.

But can I just say, that while I enjoyed Jasmine's voice, how can they keep her over LaToya London? How does this happen? It's like John Stevens redux. Boot Jennifer, keep John. And Jasmine! Jasmine looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She's got another week, but God, did she really deserve another week? I honestly didn't think she was that bad on Tuesday night and did not deserve a skewering from the judges, but LaToya... oh LaToya was my favorite! The one I wanted to win! So now that means I've got to give my support to Diana DeGarmo because Fantasia? Uh-uh.

I'm getting way too invested in reality television.

Have you voted for Shii-Ann/Rudy/Richard yet? (see here -- "Excercise your right to vote"; my permalinks are still messed up and I haven't figured out how to fix them. Grrr....). Go vote! Even if you don't know what I'm talking about, go vote! Now! Seriously! Don't make me come over there!

Oooh, shiny!

There are lots of new features at blogger now, but I'm not taking advantage of any of them. Usually I love jumping on the new tech wagon, but I'm not sure I like the way the new commenting system is set up, especially since you can't really customize the look and feel of them like you can with YACCS. The new templates are really tempting, but I don't like the fact that they have little profile sections and I'm not sure I want a profile. It might mean the reintroduction of the Scary!Purple!Seema -- if you don't know what I'm taking about, it's probably for the best.

This is my 1,186th blogger post. I'm such a navel gazer. I'm going to have to come up with something interesting for the 1,200th post. Suggestions are welcome.

Excercise your right to vote

I hereby petition all of you who read this blog to go vote for Rudy/Shii-Ann/Richard for "America's Tribal Council". While undoubtedly Rupert is going to walk away with the $1 million, let's at least make it somewhat suspenseful. Plus, Richard and Shii-Ann were totally non-bitter and kicked butt at Sunday's Tribal Council and Rudy is 70 years old. Seventy years old! I think gumption should count for as much as grunting, don't you?

Boob Tube

The one thing about watching "Survivor: All Stars" tonight is that along with all the filler material, I got to watch the same promos and commercials over and over again. Thankfully I missed a bunch as I muted the television to talk on the phone first with Sheetal, and then my mom, but the last hour was simply nails on the chalkboard awful with all of the promos and commercials. Oh the lack of variety! Oh the reptition of it all! You have missed the ad for Navy NCIS and whoa, the CSI event of the season, so let's play it again!

So help me God, if I never ever see that promo for "Helter Skelter" again, it'll be too soon -- movie event of the season, my left foot; as if a ghoul like Charles Manson really needs any kind of screen time. And much as I love Dick Van Dyke and am absolutely thrilled that there'll be a 'new' episode on Tuesday, I honestly needed to be told only once or twice. By the 25th time, I was dying. And then the local news was going insane over some shot that will help you lose weight -- "Stay tuned for video at 10!" -- and of course the awful problems the new tollway caused over the weekend; you can always count on our local news to bring the doom and gloom!

However, I did realize that life does not end for Star Trek actors when their ship sails off into the wormhole of syndication. Patrick Stewart has found himself second life doing voice-over for Crestor, that's Kate Mulgrew pushing Plymouth Voyager, and yup, Terry Farrell is talking about Medicare. It's hard to miss those voices on the 80 millionth reiteration during a 45-minute time period.

****

Blogger's got a new look, whee! I looked at the shiny new templates and I'm so tempted, so very tempted! And comments! From Blogger! I'm contemplating switching over from YACCS, which has provided the commenting service for the last few years. I'm very loyal so it'll be tough to make the switch. So for now, I'm sticking with YACCS, but I like the idea Blogger will email the comments to you, which YACCS doesn't do. Stay tuned for further updates on this very important issue.

How much do you love your toast? This much?

Linkage

Here's an IQ test for you: IQ Tests. Just a little bit of fun to lighten up your day. Don't be fooled by the credit card screen that comes up after you press submit -- if you provided a valid email address, your IQ score will be emailed to you and you can just go elsewhere after clicking submit. Have fun!

This moment brought to you by Eyemasters

So due to the massive storms we had over the weekend, my apartment got very, very clean. BTW, it got clean because I was stuck at home most of Saturday because it was too dangerous/scary/freaky to go outside and I got bored and cleaned the place silly. It doesn't even look like my place it's so dang clean. But I cleaned to the extent that this morning I stumbled out of bed and could not find my glasses, as they had been moved -- inadvertantly -- from their usual resting place to somewhere mysterious to me during my mad cleaning frenzy.

My morning routine consists of the alarm going off (Sarah Brightman's "Harem Tour" CD) and I listen to the first three songs ("Kama Sutra", "Join Me" and "Imagination"). Then I literally roll out of bed (ouch!) and stumble into the kitchen where I put the kettle on. And then it's into the bathroom to brush my teeth and that's when I locate my glasses and put them on. And then, back to make the coffee.

Well, this morning, I stumbled around in a fuzzy haze, checking every possible location for my glasses. Now, I'm not terribly near-sighted. I can actually function quite well without any kind of corrective lense in the sense I can discern objects and have a vague idea of what they are. I can even read without glasses, no problem. However, I need glasses for driving as I'm unable to read street signs without and I also have a serious lack of depth perception and occasionally, I am unable to make out separate shapes if they are all jumbled up together. But. I digress.

So I'm running around looking for my glasses and time is running out. I haven't had my coffee, haven't eaten my bowl of Cheerios, or gotten dressed. After running over in my mind where my glasses must be, I decided that the most likely location was in the drawer in the bathroom. I kept opening the drawer and didn't see any glasses. I took some objects out -- box of Q-Tips, lotion, the occasional bottle of perfume, a wide assortment of lipsticks -- and peered in more closely, but still, nothing and by then, I was having a full-scale Seema Panic Attack (tm) (don't try this at home, kids!). Did I accidentally throw my glasses out in my feverish attempt to rid myself of the piles of paper I've accumulated since August?

Finally, in exasperation, I put my contacts in and armed with my mug of coffee, I continued the search. Only to find the glasses in the drawer, exactly where I had assumed they would be. (sigh). They were actually on top of my small jewelry box and without corrective lenses, I was unable to discern the shiny frames from the piles of necklaces and other assorted pretty objects.

***

In other news, I saw "Finding Nemo" yesterday. What a totally adorable and sweet movie! I love it! Ellen DeGeneres as Dory is a hoot. I recommend this movie to everyone and anyone. Very cute.

***

Also, to clarify in my below post, there is absolutely nothing wrong in using the first person POV -- I use it myself quite often and enjoy writing it, however, there are certain situations where another POV is probably better utilized. In the end, it really does come down to what works for the story and there are no hard-fast rules for writing, despite what people say and you'll never find two people who totally agree on anything.

In my muddled-headed way, what I was trying to say is that the following example isn't well-served by a first person POV:

The blood rushes out of my nose and I feel the world going dark. I smile one last time and then there is indeed darkness.

The narrator is dead. There is no one left to tell the story. First POV narrative would require the story to either end before the narrator died, or have someone else tell the story. Hopefully, using an example -- completely fictitious and made-up on the spur of the moment -- will clarify what I was trying to point out. As always, take anything I say with the proverbial grain of salt.

***

Also, this column is a good example of why I heart Ellen Goodman so much.

On writing

I was going to write up a post on self-editing and my great big epiphany last week that was mostly jemima's fault, but that I have yet to share with her or any of you. However, given the lateness of the hour and the relatively fluffiness of my brain that ensues as the clock approaches bedtime, I will instead discuss death and POV. There are two things I bet you never expected in the same sentence, huh?

Today I read an X-Files story where there was a lot of dying. When I say a lot of dying, I mean a lot. My issues with all of the dying and angst will probably fill another blog entry, but I mostly took issue with the perspective of one of the parts of the story. This was another one of those pieces where the POV changes from part to part; first it's Mulder's 3rd person narration, followed by Scully, then Skinner, and whoa, now we have Mulder's first person narration in the form of a journal, and so on so forth.

My issue is with first person narrative. There are some very good reasons to use first person. For instance, you can get inside of the head of the main character, look at things from his/her perspective, describe feelings and settings from one consistent POV. Some people think first person POV is relatively easier than the others to write because iit is possible to write the character from within rather than without. I don't have a firm opinion on what POV people should use in their stories -- whatever works best for the story you're telling and for the character who is telling that story, that's what I would recommend.

The only exception is if there is character death and the character dying is the first person narrator. If the character is telling the story from a retrospective, then okay, that'll probably work. But having the first person POV actively telling of the death of the narrator? That doesn't work so well. First of all, if the narrator is in the act of dying, who is telling the story? How in the very short time preceeding realization of death does the narrator manage to squeeze out all of his/hir story and then still have time and clarity of mind to talk about it while dying?

As with most things writing-wise, this is my personal opinion and I honestly don't think there's a wrong way or a right way to write anything, but some ways make more sense than others. If your main character is going to die at the end of the story, I would suggest a third person narrator or a telling "in retrospect."