Wednesday, March 31, 2004

Will it be the Secret Service or the FBI?

I've sent what I believe is my hundredth hate email in the last year to the Whitehouse today. Actually, it was to the Chair of the 9-11 Commission, but cc-ed to the Whitehouse. If it's not directly to the president, will it count toward my eventual investigation/arrest?

You've seen all the news about Condoleeza Rice testifying next week before the panel? Well, what they're not mentioning is that it's conditional testimony--IF she testifies, no other member of the administration's senior staff may be called. How DARE they?

It's nothing but a token gesture to pacify the public. She's very smart and quite adept at stonewalling. It accomplishes NOTHING.

It is a travesty of justice, it is a betrayal of the public faith and it is yet another slap in the face to families and survivors alike.

Tuesday, March 30, 2004

She wouldn't recap a bottle of Windex, either--it's wet.

Greg had a show last night for his Reform School improv group (made up from the performance class students) at a new comedy venue a mere two blocks from our apartment--it doesn’t get more convenient than that. We see two other groups and Reform School’s show goes well. Very funny, almost everybody’s on. Great new venue, convenient location, decent space, all goes really well, quite the enjoyable evening. Then comes the bill.

There is a two drink minimum for non-performers. Standard stuff. Now, I had two jack and cokes, which were a mere $6.50 each. This is REALLY good for a comedy club—this place is getting better and better.

Slight problem in that someone else was put on my tab—a friend of Gabi, another performer, who had two bottles of water at $5 each. I approach her about her part of the tab and she’s completely unresponsive, so I go up to the waitress, explain that we’re NOT together and pay my portion of the bill. The waitress approaches this woman, they have a heated chat and then they go out to the front of the club. Five minutes later, the waitress re-enters the room, REALLY upset and yells that someone from Reform School had better get out to the bar, because someone from their entourage is refusing to pay their check and SHE’s certainly not going to pick it up ‘cause she’s got kids to support. Everyone’s very confused, so I fill Gabi in about what’s going on as far as I know. She’ll take care of it while the rest of us exit.

Well, as we pass, this woman is out front throwing a SCREAMING fit about the cost of the water. She’s not going to pay and they can call the police if they want to—they should be arrested for charging so much. (Granted, $10 for two tiny bottles of water is freakin' ludicrous, but welcome to a comedy club in Manhattan, honey.) I continue to walk out—more people involved cannot make this better. Greg and Joe stay behind because they’re in charge of the troupe.

When they exit, they’re totally grim. Evidently, when Gabi and Joe tried to pay, this woman continued her fit—no one should pay this much, it’s ridiculous. In total, the scene lasted for almost 20 minutes. Neither Reform School, nor any member of the troupe, will ever be allowed to play there again.

A really good night, with a lot of potential, is totally ruined, by a haughty self-righteous bitch who can't see beyond her own outrage.

Thursday, March 25, 2004

"L" is for "Loser"

So, in an attempt to return to healthfulness, I misguidedly stepped up the exercise program last night and took a "Beginner" jazz class instead of my standard basic. The Basic class is really good in a strengthening way, lots of barre work, and balance stuff, but not terribly aerobic and I'm needing a bit more cardio. Plus, as a rule, the combinations (the treat at the end of the class after 75 minutes of exercise) are no longer terribly challenging. Using this logic, it makes total sense to make the step up, right? Wrong!!!!

The class was REALLY crowded even though the teacher was a sub. The warmup was definitely more aerobic than I'm used to, but in a good way. Oddly, there was much less ab work than I'm used to as well. All in all, it was fine, lots of sweat, but fine. Then came the combination. Total nightmare. I was already physically tired from the prep and mentally tired from thinking too much in the effort to catch on to the unfamiliar routine, but that doesn't excuse the complete lack of instruction that followed.

She ran through each segment of the combination once at high speed and then the group was to catch on. Of course, the regulars in the front of the class had no problem, but the group was so huge that if you were in the back, you couldn't see a thing and that, combined with the speed and unfamiliarity with her style, led to disaster. (Did I mention that it was kinda hiphop-ish?) I'd say that about a third of us still didn't yet have it when class ended and left with the proverbial "L" tatooed to our foreheads. It was still a positive experience, but I must say if I had any less self esteem I'd have left in tears.

One happy discovery was made after though--Badger Balm works wonders for post-exercise muscle aches. My feet and ankles were already cramping up only a couple of hours after class and rubbing in the balm worked wonders; i.e., I walked down the stairs this morning instead of doing my usual post-class hobble.

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

The Greatest Thing EVER!!!!

You know those annoying scuff marks that end up on the walls? You know, the ones that are caused by passing leather bags, thrown shoes, etc.? Well, I've finally found something that takes them off: Mr Clean's Magic Eraser!

It's brilliant!!! All one has to do is run the eraser under water, squeeze out the excess and then start rubbing at the marks. They come off with very little effort and once the wall dries, you'd never know it was there. After using it, it looks like we'd had our apartment repainted! I love it, it's the best cleaning product EVER! Even better than the Swiffer! Go out and get a box today!!!

But for those of you unable to enthuse over cleaning products, you may be amused by the trick-of-vision that happened while I was in the buying them: The pharmacy now has cute little round signs every three feet identifying the product on the shelves. I was at such an angle that the sign for "facial cleansers" and that for "ethnic hair treatments" ran together and I read them as a single sign for "Ethnic Cleansers". Yes, that's right, you can buy just a bit of Milosevic in your local CVS! Once I realized I was mistaken, I giggled, or perhaps, chortled. But it was definitely one of the two...

Monday, March 22, 2004

Despair for the species...

I heard an ad last night for a new "reality" show on FOX. The premise is a bunch of unattractive women undergo plastic surgery to improve their looks and afterwards they have a beauty contest to pick the winner. Is this not one of the sickest friggin' things you've ever heard of? They have themselves CUT because they don't feel attractive and then all but one is told SHE'S STILL NOT PRETTY ENOUGH and you know what they're calling it? "The Swan".

It's morally reprehensible that they're exploiting a group's really freakish insecurities. I mean, I can understand plastic surgery if one is badly deformed or injured, but undergoing the risks just because you're average looking is really damn insane. Then to subject yourself to a beauty contest afterwards? The need for psychiatric counseling for anyone who would want to be on the show is astounding.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Oh the weather outside is frightful...

It's snowing, and it's snowing HARD. In Manhattan. In March. That's just not right. However, in honor of the odd climatic occasion, the boy and I met up for lunch. We went to Eisenberg's Sandwich Counter on 5th Ave at 22nd and managed to score one of the six tables. It was like being on the set for a depression-era film--I didn't think they made legal restaurants that are only 10 feet wide anymore. However the matzoh-ball soup was fabulous and the pastrami sandwich we split was lovely as well--not too fatty. By the time we finished, we were full, warm and contented. Then I destroyed it by saying those fatal words, "Wouldn't it be nice...No, never mind." But it was too late, Greg already knew what I was going to say. "...if we just went home, crawled into bed under the down comforter and watched the snow fall outside on the deck?"

A mere six blocks from home, yet unable to return for another 5 hours. Life is too cruel sometimes.

Monday, March 15, 2004

but the lions come at night...

I woke up at 5 this morning to Greg physically holding me down and repeatedly saying "it's okay, it's okay"...evidently my thrashing and screaming "NO" over and over again woke him.

I was dreaming that my mom's friend Gert arranged a vacation for us and we were staying in a haunted B&B. There was a lion-skin rug on the bed complete with head. I thought it would be funny to use the head as a pillow--that's when the lion came to life and clamped its jaws on the back of my skull my skull. I was thrashing around like a fiend to pry it off when the boy woke me..

I was ready to drop back to sleep immediately, but poor Greg was really concerned 'cause we both tend to have really terrible emotion-laden nightmares that linger for days. I finally roused myself enough to give him the dream-plot synopsis--and after a few giggles at the ridiculousness of the whole situation it was back to sleep. I mean really, who would put a lion-skin rug on a bed in a New England B&B? That's just crazy!

PS. Perhaps the big-cat attack was my punishment for being too lazy to email Artful Scheme yesterday to wish him a Happy Birthday?

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

Don't get it...

How is it that I managed to get the office dribble mug? As I returned to my cube from the kitchen I left a wet trail of everyone's favorite legal work drug the entire way. The weird thing is...I never saw any splash over the top, it just seemed to flow out through an opening unseen.

Is this a sign of the apocalypse or do I just need more caffeine?

Monday, March 08, 2004

Intro Redux

So, you may be wondering why "Replete with Weenies and Idiots" is the title of this blog. Well, I'll tell you.

First off, credit must be given to Laura Blackwell who commented "the world is replete with weenies" long ago at Grinnell College. It's been a decent truism and has been resurrected quite a few times in the last 15 years as the situation necessitated. I added the "idiots" part a few weeks ago. Look around you--you know that this is true as well.

I really believe that most of the world's conflicts would not exist if the individuals involved were not one or the other. "Weenies" are those who are afraid of confrontation and let a situation slide in hopes it will go away--almost invariably, the situation worsens and by the time it absolutely MUST be addressed, the consequences are exponentially worse than they would have been had the situation been handled at the outset. "Idiots" is really a label of frustration used for those who behave in such a logic-defying way to the extent that they must be judged mentally deficient. (For the record, those who are genuinely mentally challenged are never "idiots" in this sense for there is a reason behind their actions.)

So, now that you know my definitions I'm sure you can thing of MANY people you know/work with who fall into these categories. Don't you think life would be easier if they threw off their mantles of wimpiness and stupidity? Of course, then what would I have to blog about?

Friday, March 05, 2004

Strange Intro...

Somehow it escaped my notice that the Republican National Convention is being held in New York City this August/September. I think perhaps I was trying to ignore the fact, but it's been brought to light by the Bush ads being run around the country with him at the World Trade Center site. I find it absolutely abhorent that these photo op shots from 9/11 are being used for his political campaign and I'm obviously not the only one. I find it interesting that he hasn't run them in New York as far as I know. Perhaps it's because anyone here would find the idea as disgusting as I do.

I was in Manhattan those weeks with the heavily armed National Guard, buzzing fighter jets and the smell of chemical smoke that was inexorably linked with the idea of burning flesh, where the hell was he? Absolutely nowhere to be seen. Not on tv and surely not here with the exception of a single photo op. The only politician in the world who could even remotely use that period of time on his resume is Rudy Giuliani, and even then the flag-waving ads would be disrespectful. I'm torn between going home to Wisconsin for that long weekend to avoid the chaos, or being the first in line for the "human shield" protecting the Site from the further desecration of political opportunism.

It's kinda funny, I've always hated politics and political involvement of any kind, but I find I've written more damn email to the White House in the past year than I ever dreamed possible.