I just want to be a kid again. I hate this reality I'm in (doesn't make me feel better to know you're in it, too) where the government won't listen to the people they represent. Sure, they've done it before, but $700 billion dollars? Our grandkids are going to be paying for this. This isn't the only way. I've emailed, called, and faxed my Senators and my House Rep, and they're not listening anymore. As one of my girlfriends, Charissa, said: "Between this and the election, I think I'll just take up drinking instead."

Post-Ike reality (all your normal neighborhood streets and shopping centers bathed in pitch-blackness by nightfall until you turn the corner and are greeted by an oasis of headlights, as a snake of automobiles - could be 100 of them, easily - creeps toward the generator-powered gas pumps) has more or less returned to Pre-Ike reality. Sure, there are still gaping holes in roofs (now covered by blue tarps - they're everywhere!) and sure, plenty of businesses lost signs, and yeah, there are still tons of people without electricity, but MOST grocery stores are open and running, MOST gas stations have no lines at all, and MOST of the people I know have power and are back to zombifying themselves in front of the TV.

Ike was good for me. Do you know how many of my neighbors I met through cleaning up our street? Do you know how much TV I've watched since we got power back? Do you know how many pages I've read in the last week? Answers: quite a few, none, thousands. When I lived in Sweden, I really embraced some aspects of European life - reduced consumption of, well, everything (including TV, junk food, needless shopping, etc...) and making time to appreciate the simple things in life - dinner with friends, sitting outside with a book and a cup of coffee, long walks...you know what I mean. I moved back to the States, and well, it was easy to slip back into old habits. Ike gave me a good jolt, and reminded me that it shouldn't take a freakin' hurricane to get me to turn off the TV, grab a book and sit outside in the fresh air. Or to take a walk to get where I'm going when I have the time.

Ike also gave me a chance to be proud of Texas. When disaster struck us, we helped each other out, and most importantly, we helped ourselves. I'm not drawing a comparison between Texas and any other state that's been hurricane stricken. I'm just saying that Texas makes me proud, because we've handled this so well.

Well, enough talk about Ike. That's all you hear about on the radio right now, and I'm positive that if I turned on the TV, I'd hear about it there, too. I'm back at work, and speaking of work, I'd better get back to it.

/Monica

P.S. I need to buy some batteries for my camera, but when I do, I'll post some pictures/video of the storm and its um, visual effect on Houston.

A beautiful sunset, a pale blue sky, a crisp breeze...thus begins our 4th day without power after Ike.

Everybody I know is unharmed. There may be trees through roofs, missing walls,and long lines for supplies, but there is also candlelight, neighbors helping neighbors, and nightly barbeques.

More later.

Well, there's no denying it now. We're pretty much going to get a direct hit. We have groceries and charcoal and matches and candles and lighter fluid and gasoline and a generator and bottled water and first aid supplies and well, pretty much anything and everything we could think of that might be useful, including oatmeal cream pies. The bathtub is full, our gas tanks are full, we dragged a mattress downstairs in case we need to pull it over us in the bathroom under the staircase, and for now, we just get to sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labor. The wind is picking up outside, cloud cover is rollin' in, and Ike is just about 200 miles away from us. I might post some video later once it gets interesting if our power stays on. If not, I'll try to post the video and/or pics later.

We've got a hurricane on the way! I grew up in Houston, so I'm the last person who'll freak out and evacuate over a category 2 or 3 hurricane, but preparations are in order nonetheless! (Really it's just an excuse to buy Gardettos, lol.) We're expecting some flooding, but we're going to stick it out. I know it's morally wrong (whatever), but I adore storms. I used to pray for them when I was a kid. Of course I hate that people are harmed by hurricanes, but I can't stop that, so I just get all geared up and hope that we get a moderately exciting storm without casualties. You know, a happy medium, like the electricity going out so you have to light candles and eat weird combinations of canned food/snack food and just listen to mother nature rage all around you, but still safe in your home with a roof and a bed that hopefully isn't floating by that time. Oh Texas weather, I've missed you!!!

P.S. Storms all weekend = romance. ;)

Lipstick!

I would describe myself as an Independent, so I feel no shame in saying that I am enthralled by Sarah Palin. Her speech last night was cutting, intelligent, well-delivered, and she drew from both her personal and political experience to make her points. Now, I know her speech was written by somebody else, who in all likelihood has written speeches for Bush and other Republicans with whom I'm not satisfied, but she felt authentic, and for the first time ever, I'm excited about what a Republican might be able to do. I've been excited about several Democrats before, but that's not surprising in a party known more for "shaking it up"...the Republicans have always struck me as too traditional, afraid of change, and clique-ish. I can't attribute any of those qualities to Palin!

On a side note: Did anybody else see when Palin's youngest daughter was holding her little brother, licked her hand, and then smoothed down the baby's hair? That was too cute.

One more thing: How dare the Democrats question her ability to be a mother of 5 and a vice president! When has anybody ever postulated something like that about a male politician?

I was lost in the lakes
And the shapes that your body makes
That your body makes, that your body makes
That your body makes

The mountains said I could find you here
They whispered the snow and the leaves in my ear
I traced my finger along your trails
Your body was the map, I was lost in it

Floating over your rocky spine
The glaciers made you, and now you’re mine
Floating over your rocky spine
The glaciers made you, and now you’re mine

I was moving across your frozen veneer
The sky was dark but you were clear
Could you feel my footsteps
And would you shatter, would you shatter, would you

And with your soft fingers between my claws
Like purity against resolve
I could tell, then and there, that we were formed from the clay
And came from the rocks for the earth to display

They told me to be careful up there
Where the wind blows a venomous rage through your hair
They told me to be careful up there
Where the wind rages through your hair

By: Great Lake Swimmers

Borrowed from: 

hager

Hehehe, each member of the Bluth family has their own...impression...of what a chicken sounds like (as I was writing about yesterday)...here's a few for your viewing pleasure. ;)