In Politics . . .
04.25.2007
Dear Jon Stewart, I love your show, but what's with that McCain interview?
03.21.2007
Man. This election is going to be ugly.
01.29.2007
This weekend's rally didn't have any catchy slogan or banner associated with it, and this was good. It was refreshing. It was just a gathering of people protesting the war. Oh, and Jane Fonda was there.
01.25.2007
The blink war. Hilarious.
11.10.2006
The central irony to living in the District of Columbia is that, while its residents are generally politically-minded and live in the epicenter of the federal government, they have very little voice in national politics.
11.09.2006
With Rumsfeld leaving, I thought now would be a good time to take another look at his widely celebrated poetry.
11.08.2006
I looked out the window a little bit ago and let me tell you: Pigs are flying all over the place. And it's a beautiful thing.
05.02.2006
10.04.2005
11.03.2004
In News . . .
10.18.2007
The French do just about everything with style, including staging a protest, apparently.
07.26.2007
Have you heard about Oscar the Cat?
10.07.2006
Just walk 109,270,634 steps that way, take a left, and you're there.
09.22.2006
$36 Million spent on a casino and there's only one minor problem. It's built on the wrong land.
08.22.2006
Can you imagine if this happened in the states? After the maelstrom of Janet's boob, methinks we'd probably be on the brink of civil war.
08.10.2006
OK. I hate to do this, but let me just take a moment to be a shining example of the kind of spoiled American attitude that makes terrorists cringe . . .
05.30.2006
05.28.2006
05.03.2006
05.02.2006
In Chewing . . .
06.08.2009
Then there's the whole problem of choice. Goddamit. We like to think having choices makes us happy. But we now know the great paradox about that, don't we? That the more choices we have, in general, the less happy we seem to be. Because there's the fear of making the "wrong" choice. And there's the regret that comes with making a bad one. And, of course, in a certain time and place, every choice can seem like a bad one. At root, I think is the illusion of control we like to maintain.
04.16.2009
Hi. I am a brand.
04.02.2009
Moses is sick of my bitching and carrying on. At Starbucks, he sips his coffee and taps his finger and looks out the window. He has cleaned up a bit. He wears dress slacks. A button up shirt. His hair is slicked back. He looks downright respectable.
03.27.2009
On my days off, I'd visit Juan. It was like my day at school. Because I was young and new to bartending. And Juan, who was a good ten years my senior, worked at one of the busiest Mexican cantinas in Dallas. He was, unequivocally, a bad-ass. And I felt like if I put in enough time observing him, that I too would be a bad-ass.
03.05.2009
Sometimes this spot--the one on my glasses, the right lens--sometimes, it doesn't bother me that much. But sometimes, like right now, it's all I can see. And I have to cock my head back in an abnormal way in order to get it out of my line of sight.
02.27.2009
Of course, there's the whole balancing issue. I'm sure part of the problem has to do with that.
02.11.2009
Moses has been showing up at the dog park lately. He wears a hoodie over layers of other clothes. His face is all eyebrows and a beard the color of road snow. We talk about the economy. He says things like, "When you're an architect, nobody wants to put you on retainer."
01.28.2009
So I went outside in the morning dark. The town already wide awake, excited, true. Like the quick intake of breath. Like the root and the stir. Like the clutch of a tongue-tied pinky swear. And packed purposefully into layers of clothes, I went chasing the down and the din.
01.12.2009
Right now, I have several pairs of wearable jeans. But not one of them is my favorite. My favorites all have big holes in them. And that leaves me with no old standby to wear to anything that isn't a Poison concert or my monthly Grunge Club social. Even then, it's really just too cold to wear these swathes of denim. So instead, I wear one of The Others.
01.06.2009
Out of all the things I lose each day--my keys, my hat, my sweater ... my sobriety, my dignity--the thing that bothers me the most is a lost voice.
Comments
Posted by Laundro on Feb 10, 2006 at 12:37:01 PM
Posted by Pita on Feb 10, 2006 at 11:55:05 PM
Posted by Rothko on Feb 12, 2006 at 2:51:13 PM