Arrest warrants have been issued for two LSU football starters (including the QB) the week before the opening game against Oregon and I blame Les Miles. It is a sad day for Baton Rouge. It is a sad day for LSU. This is not an instance whereby it is a cut and dry and our LSU players were just thugs. We've been there and done that. For all intents and purposes, Jefferson and Johns have been pretty good young men who have now done something incredibly irresponsible and stupid.
I blame Les Miles not for the stupid decisions of these two players, but for the fact that he could have and should have prevented this. It is a question of discipline. Les is too nice of a guy. His team lacks discipline and a healthy fear of the hat. It shows during the games and it shows off the field. Jefferson and Johns broke curfew - a curfew that obviously was not adequately enforced by the coaching staff.
Had curfew not been broken then Jefferson and Johns would not have had the opportunity to run into Lowery and his associate who had just been kicked out of Shady's for getting into a fight and hitting a young woman. If anyone was a big enough asshole to upset Johns and Jefferson it would obviously be this Lowery guy. But they should never have been exposed to him in the first place.
Yes I understand that these are young men who should (in theory) be able to make the correct choices (walk away and leave it to the bouncers) and must be held responsible for the (oh so poor) choices that they've made. But these are not your average young men. These are star SEC football players. They are supposed to be properly managed and protected. No, I don't mean that the police should not charge them, I mean that they should have had babysitters - for real. The university has a significant investment in the on the field performances of these young men and that translates to off the field protection. There are curfews in place for just this reason. WTH were they not enforced? Why was this opportunity for failure handed to them on a silver platter? Someone has not been doing a good enough job at instilling discipline in all aspects of their lives. Get tougher Miles.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Look Mummy, there's an airplane up in the sky
It is one of those days. I am a bit depressed and listening to Pink Floyd's The Wall is only exacerbating the issue. My twenty year high school reunion is next year so tons of my former classmates are online reminiscing about the glory days of high school and the friends we have lost over the years.
Glory days for some. For me it was a fragmented series of relationships and some level of alienation. Since it was a Department of Defense school, friendships would end because of moves and lengthy summers away from one another. New cliques would form leaving others in their wake. There were the folks that you might not be best friends with but you liked because they were there the entire time - you survived together and they were always in at least one of your classes.It was all very fluid. The last clique that I was a part of is the one I remember best. I remember an autumn party at my friend's Shane's house. Her mom was out of country on travel. We watched The Wall and hung out and drank beer and whatever cocktail was hip at the time. People were gathered around a fire outside. It felt like high school should feel - like it was a scene from a John Hughes movie and for once I was not Molly Ringwald. They were fun, good friends. Unfortunately I have lost track of too many of them and a couple of them have died over the years.
Death is one of those funny things. Usually not funny ha ha but funny odd. My dog Cixous (who is herself dying of the bone cancer) stops by the home of the no longer living dog Lucky hoping that Lucky will come out to play. Lucky was a spastic little poof ball that liked to run into traffic. Hence his name was not lived up to. Lucky would usually be out running around in the mornings when Cixous and I walked the block. Lucky had gotten brave enough to come up to Cixous (my rottie) and give her kisses. Cixous adored being adored. Now she sits and waits in his yard, not understanding why Lucky is not coming outside.
Today I learned that Jonathan "Slappy" Record overdosed on my watch. I feel like shit because I did not know. I've suspected, but we lost touch back in '95/96. I was finishing up my last semester at LSU and had just fallen head over heels for the man who is my husband. Since '92, Jon and I would talk every month or so. He was hanging out a lot, trying to figure out what his plans would be. He had started learning to fly so I was hopeful that something good would come of that.He would call late at night, usually high and want to chat. I remember when I stopped being there to take those calls. I was so wrapped up in my own life and happiness that talking to someone who couldn't get his shit together just became less fun. He stopped calling. I know why now.
I feel like Cixous. I'd been waiting to have him catch up with me again since I am way easy to find and he (now more obviously) isn't. Part of me suspected of course that he was not long for this world. Somehow having it confirmed, having it real and permanent just hurts. Death sucks.
Glory days for some. For me it was a fragmented series of relationships and some level of alienation. Since it was a Department of Defense school, friendships would end because of moves and lengthy summers away from one another. New cliques would form leaving others in their wake. There were the folks that you might not be best friends with but you liked because they were there the entire time - you survived together and they were always in at least one of your classes.It was all very fluid. The last clique that I was a part of is the one I remember best. I remember an autumn party at my friend's Shane's house. Her mom was out of country on travel. We watched The Wall and hung out and drank beer and whatever cocktail was hip at the time. People were gathered around a fire outside. It felt like high school should feel - like it was a scene from a John Hughes movie and for once I was not Molly Ringwald. They were fun, good friends. Unfortunately I have lost track of too many of them and a couple of them have died over the years.
Death is one of those funny things. Usually not funny ha ha but funny odd. My dog Cixous (who is herself dying of the bone cancer) stops by the home of the no longer living dog Lucky hoping that Lucky will come out to play. Lucky was a spastic little poof ball that liked to run into traffic. Hence his name was not lived up to. Lucky would usually be out running around in the mornings when Cixous and I walked the block. Lucky had gotten brave enough to come up to Cixous (my rottie) and give her kisses. Cixous adored being adored. Now she sits and waits in his yard, not understanding why Lucky is not coming outside.
Today I learned that Jonathan "Slappy" Record overdosed on my watch. I feel like shit because I did not know. I've suspected, but we lost touch back in '95/96. I was finishing up my last semester at LSU and had just fallen head over heels for the man who is my husband. Since '92, Jon and I would talk every month or so. He was hanging out a lot, trying to figure out what his plans would be. He had started learning to fly so I was hopeful that something good would come of that.He would call late at night, usually high and want to chat. I remember when I stopped being there to take those calls. I was so wrapped up in my own life and happiness that talking to someone who couldn't get his shit together just became less fun. He stopped calling. I know why now.
I feel like Cixous. I'd been waiting to have him catch up with me again since I am way easy to find and he (now more obviously) isn't. Part of me suspected of course that he was not long for this world. Somehow having it confirmed, having it real and permanent just hurts. Death sucks.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Pete Wentz is to blame for my future (possible) pregnancy
Jeff and I saw Fall Out Boy live at Voodoo Fest several years ago. They were a catchy little band. Pete Wentz is the band's lyricist but he is best known for his guyliner and the fact that I saw him nearly knock himself out on stage. He is really goofy. He was dancing around and like kicked himself in the head then stumbled around a bit. His band mates ignored the theatrics as this must be a common failing and he soon returned to his posing and back up singing. But it is true that he is to blame for my current willingness to have a child with my husband of 15 years.
On a recent road trip, I finally had Jeff open the Fall Out Boy cd Folie à Deux. It had been sitting sealed in the pile of cds for a few years now. I finally listened to it and it changed my life. The album itself is quite good. The lyrics are smart and catchy. The music is interesting. Has a few cool cameos including Elvis Costello. Best FOB album yet in my opinion. Very underrated. Any way there is a song on the album called "She's My Winona." The lyrics include the lines: I'm never the same person when I go to sleep as when I wake up. Hell or Glory I don't want anything in between. Then came a baby boy with long eyelashes and daddy said you gotta show the world your thunder." It hit me. Pete Wentz is a fucking father. Jeff and I can do just as good a job raising a kid as a guyliner goofus who writes really good songs.
So we will not start trying to have a child, but we will take a block out of time and stop preventing it. No worries though... there is no way the child will be named Pete. =)
On a recent road trip, I finally had Jeff open the Fall Out Boy cd Folie à Deux. It had been sitting sealed in the pile of cds for a few years now. I finally listened to it and it changed my life. The album itself is quite good. The lyrics are smart and catchy. The music is interesting. Has a few cool cameos including Elvis Costello. Best FOB album yet in my opinion. Very underrated. Any way there is a song on the album called "She's My Winona." The lyrics include the lines: I'm never the same person when I go to sleep as when I wake up. Hell or Glory I don't want anything in between. Then came a baby boy with long eyelashes and daddy said you gotta show the world your thunder." It hit me. Pete Wentz is a fucking father. Jeff and I can do just as good a job raising a kid as a guyliner goofus who writes really good songs.
So we will not start trying to have a child, but we will take a block out of time and stop preventing it. No worries though... there is no way the child will be named Pete. =)
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Pfft... whatever
So as a nearly middle aged woman, my biological clock has been buzzing frantically the last few years. I've had some very good reasons not to follow those instincts but those reasons have dissipated quite a bit in the last few months. I have successfully weaned myself off of the antidepressants which have a tendency to produce nasty birth defects. So I no longer have this set of health concerns (just the remaining fear of old eggs). Instead I have the regular old laziness reasons not to reproduce. I would have to dedicate resources in the way of time and money to raising a child. We could make it work. I have no real fears about that anymore. The money we would save by not going out every weekend alone would pay for child care. My husband just quit smoking saving us another $250 a month. We could inherit most of the baby gear we need from all of our friends who have had kids over the years and I know people will buy the child stuff. My brother owes me free babysitting thanks to the hours I have spent with his two kids. Our god daughter is old enough to babysit as is our neighbor's eldest. It could work out. I would have to do a great deal of cleaning out of our house to make room for another human and all the baby gear then human gear involved. The nursery would be the sun room to start so we could keep the guest room for a little while. The prospect of us buying the house next door would probably disappear. I would have to buy a more affordable car as my next vehicle. Any dreams of dropping everything and traveling would be hindered as well. Part of me is a bit greedy and wants stuff over a child. And then t here is the joy of sleeping in on the weekends. I would miss that. But I could adjust for a decade. Pfft.... we'll see.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Ctrl Z Please
So this week has been a technically challenging one for me and I really don't know why. I am not (usually) a complete idiot, but this week is resetting the bar very low. I just sent out an email wherein all of the LSUs were successfully replaced by the auto spell checker as LUST. Shoot me now please. I am the idiot that hit "change all" instead of "ignore all." Our email cannot be called back. There is no magic undo button. And yes, it was an email I was sending on behalf of my boss. Fuck.
This was not the only moment of complete stupidity on my part. My cable box died after a storm a couple weeks ago. I think now that the fuse blew and that the box itself may have been okay. It was a pretty old cable box that was now full of hair, pet and human dander as well as a goodly amount of kitty vomit. It was probably for the best that I got a fresh one. I plugged the new one in and nothing. This is when I realized that the electrical outlet was likely involved. I plugged it into an isobar with the television,; hooked the cable from the tv into the box but forgot to hook the cable from the wall into the box. So I "activated" it and nothing substantive happened. I called Kevin at Cox to complain that my cable was not working. He suggested that I had the wrong line to the cable in. I realized I had no line to it, cursed ever so ladylike in his ear, grabbed the cable, plugged it in and tried again. Still nothing. I tried to follow the cable to the wall only to realize it was just some random cable that went nowhere. Grabbed another cable only to discover the same issue. Hung up with poor Kevin and postponed activating my cable properly until I had had a shower and had returned from work. I did find the correct cable but remain perplexed by the two extra ones that were just stored in my bedroom. They are now in the guest room for save keeping.
I have an hour and change left on this work week. Please let me not do anything else stupid.
This was not the only moment of complete stupidity on my part. My cable box died after a storm a couple weeks ago. I think now that the fuse blew and that the box itself may have been okay. It was a pretty old cable box that was now full of hair, pet and human dander as well as a goodly amount of kitty vomit. It was probably for the best that I got a fresh one. I plugged the new one in and nothing. This is when I realized that the electrical outlet was likely involved. I plugged it into an isobar with the television,; hooked the cable from the tv into the box but forgot to hook the cable from the wall into the box. So I "activated" it and nothing substantive happened. I called Kevin at Cox to complain that my cable was not working. He suggested that I had the wrong line to the cable in. I realized I had no line to it, cursed ever so ladylike in his ear, grabbed the cable, plugged it in and tried again. Still nothing. I tried to follow the cable to the wall only to realize it was just some random cable that went nowhere. Grabbed another cable only to discover the same issue. Hung up with poor Kevin and postponed activating my cable properly until I had had a shower and had returned from work. I did find the correct cable but remain perplexed by the two extra ones that were just stored in my bedroom. They are now in the guest room for save keeping.
I have an hour and change left on this work week. Please let me not do anything else stupid.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
My Fear of Cougars
I am a very happily married woman nearing (oh so close!) my 40s. I am also a pretty major flirt and I like bars.... I think you see where this is going. Yes, I fear being seen as a cougar. I have come to despise the term for no other reason than I don't want to be one. I am not after some twenty something young man. Hell, I can barely keep up with the middle aged stud that I have. ( Hiya honey. How You doin'?) But when I am trying to enjoy my self socially and smile at the bartender as I get my drink.... please don't judge me. Don't think, "who does that cougar think she is fooling?" I would like to hold on to the pretense that I am still hot and relevant. My gray hairs are covered professionally with streaks of blond. My time spent running means that I have a healthy tan and am getting my pert butt back. No real visible wrinkles yet.
I could blame this fear on the blog I read today called Monkeys vs Cougars but that would not be completely fair. I think this fear stems from the fact that I am finally never getting carded. I knew the day would come. I expected it ten years ago in all honestly. But this is the first year that I have only been carded once... and well, let's just say that the instance in question felt contrived. You know one of those moments where some punk ass kid tries to make an old lady feel good. Fuck you! I don't need to be carded to feel young. Okay, may be I do. Still, don't pity card me! Enough of this now. Final thoughts. Call me bitchy. Call me catty. Just please don't call me a cougar. Meow.
I could blame this fear on the blog I read today called Monkeys vs Cougars but that would not be completely fair. I think this fear stems from the fact that I am finally never getting carded. I knew the day would come. I expected it ten years ago in all honestly. But this is the first year that I have only been carded once... and well, let's just say that the instance in question felt contrived. You know one of those moments where some punk ass kid tries to make an old lady feel good. Fuck you! I don't need to be carded to feel young. Okay, may be I do. Still, don't pity card me! Enough of this now. Final thoughts. Call me bitchy. Call me catty. Just please don't call me a cougar. Meow.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Responsibility
Okay it has been quite a while since I had a good rant. I think we can all agree it is not healthy to keep things in and it is past time that I railed against some sort of injustice or absurdity. Today I am railing against pet owners who become parents and feel that they can no longer handle the animal in their life. Now I have some sympathy here. I realize the joys of parenting may indeed be overwhelming. I am not going to deny that. I know that some dogs have personalities that might not be right for a house with an infant or a toddler. Got it.
But why in the name of all that is right with the world would you need to get rid of a single cat???? Especially one that you describe as "laid back, sleeps a lot and good with kids." I realize the litter box presents a challenge to pregnant women, but you made it through nine months successfully. Cats are generally not much work. You put out food, fresh water, and clean litter. That is it. From time to time the creature will pop over to see you and request a petting. Mostly they want to sleep and be left alone.
I am speaking of course about the current Facebook plea for an 11 year old seal point Himalayan named Newt. Newt's owner purchased this purebred creature as a kitten and promptly declawed him to save her furniture (strike one there in my mind - though I do think that declawing is preferable to termination of life - you know when your furniture is THAT important.) Newt's owner had decided in her last weeks of pregnancy that Newt was too much work. Did I mention that Newt gets shaved quarterly so the owner does not have to worry about grooming? Yeah. She was going to drop off poor Newt at the pound. Owner surrenders do not pass "go" and head straight for the death chamber. She was willing to put down her 11 yr old cat because it would be too much work what with the baby and all.
Friends on Facebook immediately stepped in and have made the plea for adopting this senior cat. Being the sucker that I am, I volunteer to take him only to be told that the owner has changed her mind (for now). I am glad that she had a change of heart, but am concerned that it will not last and poor Newt will get a death sentence because he is such a burden on this poor new family.
Pet owners, we live in a age where family additions may be planned well in advance. Decisions to have a baby should be well thought out and how your animal will fit into this new family should be a factor from the start. Sure surprises happen, but for God's sake, you then have a minimum of 7 months to (if you must) find an alternate home for your beloved pet.
But guess what? Pets and people (even baby people) can coexist perfectly well together. It is this whole thing called domestication. There are books, pamphlets and websites devoted to informing you (should you need advice) of the ways in which you can get your house baby ready and prepare your pet for the new addition. Most of these things you should already be doing as a responsible pet owner. Your dog should not be your boss and should respond to a few basic commands. Perhaps an investment in a pinch collar and a few obedience classes would be a wise choice before your child arrives in the world (or you get pregnant - you don't want your 80 pound lab jumping on your baby bump.)
For a cat, there is even less to worry about. Your house will soon smell of vomit and dirty diapers which will mask the litter box completely. Your cat is not going to smother your baby or steal its soul while it sleeps. If you are concerned about this, there is a clever invention called the closed door. Cats in general cannot master the door knob. Keep the kitty out of the nursery. Worried that you won't have time to buy cat food or fresh litter? That same store where you buy diapers on a regular basis sells cat supplies.
Bottom line.... you are still going to find the time to wash your hair and shower. You can take two minutes to make sure your cat has food and water and another two minutes to scoop some litter. Responsible parenting begins with responsible pet ownership.
But why in the name of all that is right with the world would you need to get rid of a single cat???? Especially one that you describe as "laid back, sleeps a lot and good with kids." I realize the litter box presents a challenge to pregnant women, but you made it through nine months successfully. Cats are generally not much work. You put out food, fresh water, and clean litter. That is it. From time to time the creature will pop over to see you and request a petting. Mostly they want to sleep and be left alone.
I am speaking of course about the current Facebook plea for an 11 year old seal point Himalayan named Newt. Newt's owner purchased this purebred creature as a kitten and promptly declawed him to save her furniture (strike one there in my mind - though I do think that declawing is preferable to termination of life - you know when your furniture is THAT important.) Newt's owner had decided in her last weeks of pregnancy that Newt was too much work. Did I mention that Newt gets shaved quarterly so the owner does not have to worry about grooming? Yeah. She was going to drop off poor Newt at the pound. Owner surrenders do not pass "go" and head straight for the death chamber. She was willing to put down her 11 yr old cat because it would be too much work what with the baby and all.
Friends on Facebook immediately stepped in and have made the plea for adopting this senior cat. Being the sucker that I am, I volunteer to take him only to be told that the owner has changed her mind (for now). I am glad that she had a change of heart, but am concerned that it will not last and poor Newt will get a death sentence because he is such a burden on this poor new family.
Pet owners, we live in a age where family additions may be planned well in advance. Decisions to have a baby should be well thought out and how your animal will fit into this new family should be a factor from the start. Sure surprises happen, but for God's sake, you then have a minimum of 7 months to (if you must) find an alternate home for your beloved pet.
But guess what? Pets and people (even baby people) can coexist perfectly well together. It is this whole thing called domestication. There are books, pamphlets and websites devoted to informing you (should you need advice) of the ways in which you can get your house baby ready and prepare your pet for the new addition. Most of these things you should already be doing as a responsible pet owner. Your dog should not be your boss and should respond to a few basic commands. Perhaps an investment in a pinch collar and a few obedience classes would be a wise choice before your child arrives in the world (or you get pregnant - you don't want your 80 pound lab jumping on your baby bump.)
For a cat, there is even less to worry about. Your house will soon smell of vomit and dirty diapers which will mask the litter box completely. Your cat is not going to smother your baby or steal its soul while it sleeps. If you are concerned about this, there is a clever invention called the closed door. Cats in general cannot master the door knob. Keep the kitty out of the nursery. Worried that you won't have time to buy cat food or fresh litter? That same store where you buy diapers on a regular basis sells cat supplies.
Bottom line.... you are still going to find the time to wash your hair and shower. You can take two minutes to make sure your cat has food and water and another two minutes to scoop some litter. Responsible parenting begins with responsible pet ownership.
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