Musings and Mirth

Freaks and Geeks and Creeps Drawn to Obama

Why is it that Obama, the coolest guy to ever come down the pike, is now saddled with the fucking loonies who are going to ruin it for all of us? If Camille Paglia doesn’t shut her pie-hole, giving Matt Drudge constant fodder to drag down Obama (oh, did you think he was pro-Obama for a second? I did) I am going to lose my mind. But she isn’t the only one, not even close. Firedog Lake and Huffington Post (which I stopped reading during the primaries and haven’t gone back since) have become 24-hour Obama campaigning sites and it is all a bit much. I know they sincerely believe they are doing good but Paglia is so blind with love for Obama she probably has no idea what the hell is going on – she has lost complete perspective:

Hillary for veep? Are you mad? What party nominee worth his salt would chain himself to a traveling circus like the Bill and Hillary Show? If the sulky bearded lady wasn’t biting the new president‚Äôs leg, the oafish carnival barker would be sending in the clowns to lure all the young ladies into back-of-the-tent sword-swallowing. It would be a seamy orgy of scheming and screwing. Hillary could never be content with second place. But neither could an alpha male like Obama. The vice-president should be an accomplished but subordinate personality. An Obama-Hillary ticket might tickle party regulars, but it would be a big fat minus in the general election. Republicans have shrewdly stockpiled a mammoth arsenal of past scandals to strafe Hillary with. Only a sentimental masochist would want to relive the tawdry 1990s.

Girlfriend, your crush is showing. Not only is it showing, it’s glaring. It’s shouting and waving its arms I LOVE BARACK OBAMA! This is the part of supporting Obama that becomes irritating and why, probably, one of the reasons at least, that John McCain will probably win in November.

I love Obama too. If I let myself I could have a serious crush on the guy but I am not going to let myself. I have decided that I can’t afford to have my heart broken yet again and so I’m standing at a distance with cautious optimism, hoping that Obama can pull it out despite the irritating loudmouths who speak and scream and insult and blather on his behalf.

A Vital Mind

Of the kind I don’t think we’ve ever seen go so far in politics; he thinks for himself.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jg8lCLumByw[/youtube]

Love him.

It Takes a Woman to Know it

I love women now. There was a long time in my 20s and 30s when men were my better friends. Sure, I had my sisters and my best friend, but usually, my friends and those I admired in art, film and literature were men. I would probably need a lot of therapy or a really long, drunken confessional to figure out why but I can say, without question, that now in my 40s I understand why people say women rule the world.

My “Mother/Daughter” group met last night — five of us women from my daughter’s school and their daughters get together monthly to discuss things, mostly the whole “girl you’ll be a woman soon” thing. No shit, last night we built a fruit body. It was all I could do not to make banana jokes or take it seriously at all because it was just one pun waiting to happen after another – one dirty limerick after another. At some point, though, I looked down at the cute little immobile fruit lady with her oranges for breasts, blueberries for nipples, apples for lips and strawberry for you-know-what it was just plain cute to me. And then we had to talk about the uterus and the fallopian tubes and the moon cycle. The poor girls were mortified. I think that we entered a world of “private talk” that isn’t discussed much these days. Moreover, it carved an imprint in their minds, I’ll bet, that they will never forget. I told them, as they giggled through it, that this would be endless fodder for jokes when they grew up and for that alone it was worth sitting through. I think the other moms were annoyed at my inability to take it seriously. I tried. I really did but between the skewers to pierce the fruit and hold it to the watermelon body and the way she looked, like a fruity and organic blow-up doll, it was just the funniest thing ever. I need to evolve. It’s true.

But anyway, all of this to say that it takes a woman to wisely put things as they are – and herewith, a lovely op-ed by Gail Collins in the NY Times on the Hillary/Obama thing:

I get asked all the time whether I think Hillary lost because sexism is worse than racism in this country. The answer is no. She lost because Obama ran a smarter, better-organized campaign. It’s possible that she would have won if the Democratic Party had more rational primary rules. But Obama didn’t make up the rules, and Clinton had no problem with them until she began to lose.

Here’s where the sexism does come in. If Barack had failed in his attempt to make history by becoming the first African-American presidential nominee, you can bet we’d have treated his defeat with the dignity it deserved. Even if he went over the deep end at the finale and found it hard to get around to a graceful concession.

For a long time, Obama supporters have seen party unity as something that Hillary could provide by capitulating. It also requires the Democrats to acknowledge what she’s achieved. If that makes them feel like wimps, let them take it out on John McCain.

Clinton is very much a product of the generation that accepted a certain amount of humiliation as the price of progress. She wrote in her autobiography that when she ran for president of her high-school class against several boys, one of them told her she was “really stupid” if she thought a girl could be elected president. She lost, and later, the winner asked her to head a committee “which as far as I could tell was expected to do most of the work.” She swallowed hard, accepted and, she admitted, really liked organizing all the school parades and dances and pep rallies.

This is one of the things you have to admire about Hillary Clinton. She still enjoys the work.

This op-ed says what I’ve been feeling throughout this campaign – to see it so plainly, what a joke women are to the rest of the world – even to, especially to, women.¬† I am an Obama supporter in so much as I admire him, have faith in his ability to give us hope again but I have always believed in the end that Hillary would have been the more capable, get-her-done leader. Yes, she’s a bitch. Yes, she fought dirty and hard. I guess everyone expected her to act like she did during Bill’s run – like the good little girl who pretends to be polite. The whole thing makes me sad and it makes me feel sick that no one, except a few of us women and a handful of evolved men (like Jon Stewart and ironically, even Barack Obama himself because no one is more evolved than that guy) saw it either.

Manipulating the Magnet System – That’s How it’s Done in LA

Unfortunately for us, a family who could really benefit from the magnet system in Los Angeles, we are completely out of the loop. Emma is behind 8 points right now from the rest of her classmates who are working the magnet system. In 2007, Newsweek named a school called LACES in Los Angeles one of the top 50 high schools in the US. To get into LACES you need, at minimum, 20 magnet points. Just by graduating from a magnet school you get 12 points. If Emma had been put in Wonderland’s magnet program she would be eligible to go to LACES. And her start in life would be significantly improved. Due to my ignorance about the system when she went into 1st grade (we had moved from Santa Monica where they choose to improve ALL schools, rather than relying on the magnet system) and then in 3rd grade I’d forgotten to sign the form that the school needed and by the time my sister told me about it it was too late and she’d lost the form anyway. Long story short, one big fucking nightmare. Attending the school, Wonderland, has made no significant improvement in my daughter’s education. I think it might be time to abandon LAUSD altogether.

The parent thing is hard, folks. Don’t ever let anyone tell you differently. It is especially hard when you’re trying to do everything right and you inevitably fail your children. Being somewhat poor folk with an exceptionally smart kid, a kid who is 98th percentile highly gifted, a great student and someone who deserves the best public education has to offer. But between my own flailing around the system and our particular school’s fucked-up-edness, I think I’ve ultimately failed in my goal to have her on track for a full scholarship at a major university. Life sucks balls. What can I say.

Weird Things and Weird People

Sometimes being an adult is very much like being a kid. Recently, I had the occasion of being the one “not invited” to a party. I’ve not often been that person because usually I get invited to everything. Or I do at the various places I’ve inhabited. I’ve inhabited a lot of places, a lot of colleges, a lot of town, a lot of boyfriends, a lot of different utility companies. I’ve not had the occasion to feel “left out” very often but today I got to feel that way when I saw a picture of a party that was held on Memorial Day with all of my, or many of my “friends.”¬†¬† They were having a “dog wedding” and uniting two of their pooches. It was an odd thing to see, though, as I’d heard nothing about it. So I got to feel depressed and left out, like a nine year-old. I guess it’s good to feel this once in a while so that when Emma comes to me and tells me how badly she’s hurt because she’s “left out” of a group I can sympathize with her because it sucks and it hurts. You learn a valuable lesson from it, though. You learn who your friends, who your REAL friends are. Emma had a birthday party recently and I invited only her best friends. They just happen to be the kids no one else on the schoolyard gets along with, which made the decision somewhat easier; I didn’t want Emma to be in a position of having to get turned down by kids who didn’t want to come anyway and I couldn’t really afford a big party.

But it sort of grounds things to a halt and it becomes easy to see with clarity who is going to matter in the long run. I decided right then and there that these people are probably not real friends. They’re friends for the moment but our lives are so different, so utterly and vastly different that it’s impossible to be real friends with them; they don’t know what my life is like and I certainly have no idea what their lives are like. It was an interesting moment for me and one that helps to make the very difficult decision about where to move from here.

Yes, it probably sounds silly to you (whomever might even be reading this) but it was something I JUST HAD to get off my chest. And now I feel better.

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About Me

I spend way too much thinking about me. This is the blank space where that paragraph should be.