knights of the fetal citizen

this guy is the new Sandra Day O'Connor. *cough*

i read this harrowing article in Rolling Stone [on Senator Brownback].

and...insert mopey comment here about assinine exboyfriend causing me emotional strife from afar. (i know nothing of his stance on abortion except that he would not have wanted to have a child with me)

regardless.

it's been a depressing day.

and my motherboard is dusty.

brazilian booty

James Lipton as Kevin Federline.

priceless.

rumination

They say that the left side of the brain
Controls the right
They say that the right side
Has to work hard all night
Maybe I think too much for my own good
Some people say so
Other people say no no
The fact is
You don't think as much as you could

-paul simon-

the passion of the west

god, i love pop culture.

4:26am

it occurred to me today that my life would be fantastically better if my body just got tired at 12am and felt rejuvenated by 9am. this has never, in my life, been the case.

as a result, and a fault of 1990's VH1 late-night programming, i always get the first few bars of Bjork's Possibly Maybe stuck in my head in the middle of the night.

it's been a lackluster week.

it's tuesday.

shouldn't you be off bringing religiosity to the fuzzy wuzzies or some such?

so, firstly, i have enabled anonymous commenting (which, unbeknownst to me, was not previously available here until my mother brought it to my attention.) endless possibility for rebuttals, provided they're not pious and, well, full of shit. my gift to you.

(for fuck's sake though, let me know who you are. there's nothing more irritating than my having to track anonymous IP addresses to figure it out.)

secondly, this whole Roe vs Wade deal...

today was the 33 year anniversary of the famous Texas ruling. i was reminded of this by a number of friends' bulletins about various rallies. one of which was promoting a pro-life christian rally (love the dude dearly, but if our conversations every stray from relationships, hip-hop, and Breakfast at Tiffany's, we'll have problems) weird that in the five years i've known him, it never has been an issue.

so.

though i may be the first woman to tell you that chicks can be crazy, and i'm usually the closest gawker at the feet of a hot stripper, i have a violently feminist opinion when it comes to women's bodies and abortion.

pro-lifers, whether they're singing kumbaya or throwing stones and holding a picture of an aborted fetus (who takes a picture of an aborted fetus? whose job is that?) make me a violent one.

i especially have issues with men's opinions on this topic. which is a whole other argument. regrettably, boys, i'm going to say you have to sit this one out. I have friends who've expressed their strong opinion on the fact that they won't fuck a girl who isn't comfortable with the option of abortion. i've also known a guy who accused a girl of 'faking'[an abortion] to get attention (as a first-hand witness at the fucking clinic, his disbelief and lack of concern was rather appalling.)

sigh.

on this topic, men and women will never be equal. it's just not possible.

i believe that this is not, nor should it ever be, a government's decision. period. under such circumstances, it is, and will always be, the worst, most painful and most difficult decision of a woman's life. but it is her choice alone. it is not the decision of a man in Washington, or some chick in Texas, or a church group in Delaware, or that guy on the corner who sells you the Post.

the sad truth is, wherever one might stand on the topic of abortion, i'll bet that a good percentage of college/high school students today couldn't even tell you who either "Roe" or "Wade" was. but that's a whole different issue.

oh how i love thee

let me express my complete jubilation upon discovering that the Whole Foods in Union Square carries Rogue Chocolate Stout.

1 pint 6 oz. of Oregon. mmmmm.

other people's words

my writing professor from UCLA has a piece in this issue of Fail Better.

cool guy. nominated me for an award and always sent me home with lemons from his garden.

i've yet to make lemonade.

not regret but thought of paths not taken

What if the right part of leaving
Turned out to be wrong

home n.
1. A place where one lives; a residence.
2. a. An environment offering security and happiness.
b. A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.
3. The place, such as a country or town, where one was born or has lived for a long period.

I never really missed Oregon until I moved to the east coast. I can't explain why. Even in the five years I resided in California, I don't remember ever feeling so distant and nostalgic for the northwest, though I'm sure there must have been such moments.

The transition, both to and from, New York and Oregon is a difficult one. A lot of it has to do with pacing. Most of it has to do with time difference. And the rest has to do with my heart.

It took me a week in Ashland just to relax. Now, back east, I feel a bit displaced.
But you can never really go home. The past is a curious thing. Returning to it, well, it's not what you expect. They way you remember things…a red house that was actually blue.

When I moved out [at seventeen] I had no attachments. The friends I had [then] were never a huge part of my life. And for whatever reason, I've never had a problem moving on, at least in physical terms (count the six cities I've resided in since). But I've never regretted leaving. And I've never moved back since. It had never occurred to me, to be honest.

For the first time upon returning home, I realized how much I care for the people I grew up with. Sad that ten years had to pass for us to get to know one another. Some I've known all along; Ben and I still curl up on my parents' couch and watch action movies the way we have since 7th grade (we contemplated briefly about departing from our genre of 13 years, but decided against it). We still drink my parents' booze, only now, we're allowed to. Which takes the fun out of it. Others, I've 'known' for ages, but have only recently learned who they are. Still others, I thought I knew, but I was wrong (I ran into my best friend from high school, who hardly even acknowledged me).

Most difficult though, was leaving behind someone I really care for. I've know I liked this person since I was twelve years old, the way you know you're an uncoordinated dancer or bad at math. It's just a part of you. He still makes me nervous, reminds me of all the fantastic awkwardness of being a teenager. He'll always have that. And no one else will.

It makes it difficult to come back to a city where nobody really knows me, not in that way.

and i swear to god i've found myself in the end...

i'm *cough* home. in a fortunate turn of events, New York didn't implode while i was away.

darn.

when did Home become where the problems are and not where the heart is? i missed that transition.

I've been thinking of everything
I used to want to be
I've been thinking of everything
Of me
Of you and me

(i was going to say last night, graduated cynic; burgeoning realist. but i thought of it later.)

sigh.