September
How much you wanna bet the WMDs will turn up in September? It'll be perfect timing. Not only will it tie in with the anniversary of 9/11, but it'll clinch the election.

Backpedal
I almost never comment on politics (mostly because I don't read the news on a regular basis since it usually makes me want to cry), but I think this is worth a read. My favorite part of this article is the very last paragraph. Can anyone say, "Backpedal"?

Another Question
I just got my lunch delivered and they taxed the delivery charge. Is that allowed? I mean, I know you tax the food, but you don't add the delivery charge to the bill until the very end...right?? Am I crazy?

Problematic Perseverating
Does anyone else perseverate on their music? Am I the only one? Because I worry about this freakish behavior and I wonder if I'm alone in this or not.

Wondering what the hell I'm talking about? Let me explain.

When I get a new cd that I love I listen to it over and over and over again for weeks until I can't bear to listen to it any longer. So then it sits on a shelf until something reminds me that I own it and I pull it out and listen to it over and over and over again until I can't bear to listen to it any longer and it goes on a shelf until...well...you get the idea.

Off the top of my head I have done this with the following cds: No Doubt, Aretha Franklin, Anything Goes, Showboat, Annie Get Your Gun, Elton John, The Beatles, They Might Be Giants, Ani DiFranco, Abba, Squirrel Nut Zippers, The Jayhawks, and Rosemary Clooney. I could go on, but I'll quit so that I don't embarrass myself further by revealing more of my musical tastes.

I am currently perseverating on Oklahoma! (the Hugh Jackman soundtrack I got a couple of weeks ago, not Shirley Jones) and The Barenaked Ladies Greatest Hits.

A few more times in the cd player and I won't be able to stand them any more and they'll go on the shelf with the rest. So, why do I do this to myself and am I alone? That is the question.

Ladies Room
What the hell is the matter with people that they feel the need to not only NOT clean up after themselves, but to actually leave behind a disgusting mess?

I've just returned from the ladies room in my office building and feel the need to comment on this repulsive situation. For many years now I've just accepted the fact that if you use a public ladies room you run the risk of sitting in someone else's urine. Yes, you can drape the seat with toilet paper, but come on. It's paper! It's not gonna do the trick every time. So you deal.

Today, though, I entered the only stall available to discover that someone had used the commode and left a ridiculously large mess on the seat. I don't think I need to explain that it wasn't your run-of-the-mill urine trail. This was fecal matter. What I don't understand is when this sort of behavior became acceptable.

Anyone who leaves a mess like that shouldn't be allowed to use public restrooms. Period! They should be forced to hold it until they can get to their own homes so that they make the mess there. There should be some sort of monitoring system and if you're caught doing something this revolting, you're banned from all public restrooms for a year. After a year, you're allowed back in but if you're caught again, you're out for ever. EVER!

Jessass
At the risk of invoking the wrath of all the Jess-lovers out there, I'd like to take a moment and mourn the loss of a (up until now) Jess-free Season of Gilmore Girls.

What I don't understand is how people can like him. He treated Rory like crap. He treated Lorelai like crap. He treated Luke like crap. He was an all-around jackass. He was Jess the Jackass. He's Jessass. And he's back. God help us all.

A Classless, Crass and Deplorable Stunt
Also...a little funny. He doesn't look too upset does he?

Inconsistencies
I'm in the mood to rant today and I thought I'd share.

So, I get home from the gym and am pretty tired. All I want to do is grab a bowl of cereal, jump online, check email, do some writing and relax.

However, there is a week's worth of laundry sitting in my bathroom that needs to be done. Pretty much any other chore can be put off, but laundry is a must. If you don't do it, you have to either wear dirty clothes (which a friend of mine did in college...he'd take a dryer sheet and rub it all over his dirty clothes before heading to class) or buy new ones.

So I psych myself up for laundry. Now, I don't know what your laundry situation is, but we live on the second floor of a two family house. The washer and dryer are in the basement and we can use them for free. The only problem is that in order to get to the basement from the second floor you have to actually leave the house and walk outside and around the house to these old-fashioned cellar door type things in the driveway. Real nice.

Ordinarily, I honestly don't mind it. Sure it sucks to be tramping around outside with a hamper full of dirty (or clean depending on which direction you're walking) clothes. Sometimes I feel like the people who're driving by are secretly judging me and my dirty clothes. They are mocking me and my basement washer and dryer. At home, they have lovely machines in the laundry room off the kitchen and they joyfully load them up every day of the week just because they can.

But back to the story. Today, I really didn't want to put on my winter jacket and mittens for the trip around the house with my hamper of dirties. But I did. I psyched myself up by telling myself that the laundry will be done by the afternoon and then I can enjoy myself tonight and tomorrow. I put on my sweats, my fleece, and my boots, but because I was feeling rather crazy, I decided to eighty-six the mittens. I'm from Minnesota. I can do without mittens for the trip to the basement.

So I lug the laundry downstairs, out the front door and around the house where I find that the path to the basement doors has not been shoveled. No matter. I'm wearing boots. I slug through the snow. I get to the doors. I pull on them. And nothing happens. They are not moving.

Thinking that perhaps it is just the weight of the snow keeping then down, I pull my mittenless hands into the arms of my fleece and start to wipe the snow away before I try again. The problem? The doors are frozen shut.

And now comes the point of the title of this entry. After having to psych myself up for the task of doing laundry, I'm inconsistently furious at not being able to do the chore I hate so much. If only I could get in there and take care of this laundry, I think, life would be heavenly. Clean clothes are so close and yet so far away.

After pulling on the doors for about five minutes to no avail, I gave up and am now upstairs, back online, trying to relax. Yet, the laundry downstairs is calling to me...mocking me...much like the drivers mock me with their off-the-kitchen-laundry rooms at home. All I can think about is this laundry and how it mocks me! Mock away dirty laundry! But I'll get you another day!

Joker
I feel like I've become way too serious and contemplative on this thing, so today: a joke.

Question: What do you get when you cross a bull dog with a Shih Tzu?




Answer: A Bull Shiht.

Work
I was thinking tonight about work. The reason is because we're about to get another dumping of snow and that will give us a snow day tomorrow. Clapping my hands together with glee the thought occurred to me, "Why do I hate work so much?" I have a pretty decent job, compared to some. The pay isn't great, but it's certainly not the worst, either. The people I work with are okay. The office dynamic is fine. Why do I hate going to that place every day?

And then, tonight, it hit me: I hate work because I'm expected to show up everday without fail and...well...WORK.

Don't get me wrong. If I were independently wealthy, I'd still probably work, or maybe go to school and get my doctorate or something cool like that. But I'd do something, that's the point. What I don't like is knowing that I HAVE to be there. HAVE TO. WITHOUT FAIL. And it bites.

So yeah. Nothing profound, just an observation that I thought I'd share. Stay warm out there, wherever you are.