30 May, 2007
Because DING!DING!DING!DING!DINGGGGG!!! I think I can confidently say we have a winner for Asshole of the Year (and it's not even June, yet!). The Pink Pucker Award goes to:
The Unnamed (as yet) TB Patient. Quoting the article (emphasis mine):
"The man flew to Paris from his home in Atlanta on May 12 for his wedding and honeymoon, even though health officials told him they “preferred” that he not get on the flight, he said in an interview published today in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
"Days later, while he was in Italy, he was contacted by officials of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and was told that he had a rare and potentially virulent form of the disease and should turn himself over to Italian health authorities immediately.
"Officials of the centers said at a news conference today that they had begun to make arrangements with the Italian authorities to isolate and treat the man in Rome. But instead of cooperating with the plans, the man traveled to the Czech Republic and took a flight from Prague to Montreal.
"He said in the published interview that he did that in the belief that he had been put on a no-fly list and would not be allowed to board a flight bound for the United States. "
To which I can only add, FUCKING DUH!
Oh, but check out his AOTY acceptance speech; IT'S A REAL HOOT:
"I’m a very well-educated, successful, intelligent person. This is insane to me, that I have an armed guard outside my door, when I’ve cooperated with everything other than the whole solitary-confinement-in-Italy thing."
Let's hope that good edjumucation was in civil litigation and that he's made a shitload of money from it because, right now, there are several hundred people, with several hundred attorneys with their lawsuits drawn up just waiting to fill in the name of the Defendant.
Take a bow, Asshole!
(Full-disclosure: I fully realise that this guy is dealing with a horrible disease and is in for some bad times ahead. While I don't begrudge him marital happiness, being "successful, well-educated, etc. etc." is no excuse for not exercising some common-fucking-sense.
More disclosure: I never knew my grandmother (my mom's mom). When my mother was six years old, her mother contracted tuberculosis and spent most of my mother's childhood in and out of the TB hospital in Portland (there's a whole sad tale about this that, one day, I'll go into). My grandmother died when my mother was just thirteen.)
27 May, 2007
(If you can't read the caption, it says, "Sleeps in on weekdays, up at the crack of dawn on weekends".)
22 May, 2007
1. Two pairs of nesting seagulls near the ferry dock in Alameda.
2. Two hawks sitting on the chain-link fence along the Alameda navy base.
(-2 They took away our beautiful rowboats! :-((( )
Labels: ferry commuting
OK so the brief experiment using a turquoise and orange palette is over and I've gone back to a red one. It was weird but without the red it just didn't feel like MY blog anymore. So, I'll be tweaking things more, but I HAD to get my colours back!
BTW, the quote "...screaming at the top of my lungs since 1965" is from Poor Born by Dead Moon. Brilliant song.
20 May, 2007
Remember those times when you had goat cheese? And then you SHARED the goat cheese with me? Weren't those really great times, Mom? Don't you want to have more great times Mom?
18 May, 2007
So my day started with a trip to the Subaru Dealership because a CD got jammed in the new (to me) stereo. (Subaru doesn't actually replace stereos with NEW components, but rather with refurbished units.) Having learned before that the queue starts up quite early, I left home at around 6:20 a.m. (the service dept. opens at 7). I arrived around 6:35 and was pleased to see I was the first in line. Shortly thereafter people started parking behind me. (At Downtown Subaru in Oakland we must queue up by parking on the street). Everything was going swell until about 6:50 when some geezer jumped the queue and pulled up to the gate. I was, naturally, not happy about that but decided to wait and maybe say something to him when we got inside. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a guy start to pull in behind the geezer! One queue-jumper was enough. I tapped my horn and waved my hand back, indicating that there was already a bunch of us in line.
He started yelling at me that he had never been there before and didn't know, etc. I wanted to say that that was cool, but there were a bunch of us lined up and, yes, it is confusing and a pain in the ass to get in here. But the guy would not stop yelling at me! I finally yelled back, "ALL RIGHT!" I regretted yelling, but he had pushed me too far, too early in the morning. Evidently, he wasn't finished yet.
"DON'T YELL AT ME, YOU FAT FU*KING BITCH!" he screamed. Now, the "old" me who was a street brawler may have jumped out of the car and throttled him, or might have screamed back and called him whatever series of nasty names immediately came to mind. But I realized that, to throw the fact that I'm fat back in my face (such an easy target--which still hurts my inner little girl just a bit), he either was irretrievably stupid or he was having a seriously shitty morning and there was a lot of pain behind that. He didn't strike me as stupid, so I chose to dial back my voice a bit and said "have a nice day!" And I really meant it.
The service gates opened and we got inside. The geezer who jumped the queue (and he KNEW the whole time he had, too, the bastard!) was tying up the guy I had an appointment with. So, while I waited, I saw the other guy come in. I wondered if I should just shut my yap and let it go, but I couldn't leave it the way it was. It was just no way to start the day. So I went over to him.
"Look," I said, "I really didn't mean to ruin your morning. It's just that the guy in the silver Legacy had already cut in front of all of us and I wanted to be sure you saw us."
He began apologizing profusely. The words seemed to free-fall from him, how it was so early and he probably zoned out and didn't see us and got startled but how horrible he felt and he was so sorry and he shouldn't have acted the way he did. I also apologized for shouting and said it was too early in the day to be anything other than pre-verbal (especially without the aid of caffeine!). He apologized some more and I assured him that we were good and we should just take a deep breath and Begin Again.
Fast forward to late morning and I'm at work. The guy at the dealership phones and tells me that they got the CD out but he's ordering another replacement stereo (that's when he told me they weren't new but refurbs). He then said, "Evidently, you had a problem with one of our other customers this morning..."
"Oh yeah, but it's okay. We sorted it out." I said.
"Well, he said he felt really horrible about it and he brought flowers and a card. So when you pick up your car, the flowers are from him."
When I picked Luna up (the service dept. had given her a bath, too...yay!), these lovely pink-white roses and a cute card were waiting on the front seat for me (he signed the card, but I won't disclose his name here). It is a very lovely gesture on his part (though really not necessary). It's worth noting that pink is a healing colour. I truly hope his day improved significantly.
17 May, 2007
(*if you ride your bike to the ferry) I hope to never see THAT MUCH SPANDEX IN ONE SMALL ROOM again.
15 May, 2007
I had heard some buzz over the weekend that Heather Champ and Derek Powazek had left JPG Magazine, which seemed really quite bizarre because they founded it and, from everything I've ever seen and heard, this was their "baby". I read Heather's brief post about leaving and was quite upset to see that. Usually, I get up a good head of righteous indignation and will click right over and delete my account, but I decided to wait and see what "the other side" had to say.
The Other Side (a.k.a. Paul Cloutier, the CEO at 8020 Publishing) had removed any reference to Heather and Derek's role in creating JPG Magazine (though I see it has now been reinstated on the "About" page) and they removed the first six issues from the site. I was not exactly impressed by that sort of statement. Then, after I read Derek's story this morning, I immediately deleted my account.
So let's back up a moment. Why did I JOIN JPG Magazine? Put simply, because of Heather and Derek. They share a love of photography and of documenting the ordinary in extraordinary ways that really resonates with me. They are friendly, forthright, professional people, both online and in person. It was the feeling of community and the respect they gave to the members of their community that made JPG Magazine a success. And, when they couldn't make the relationship work with the Corporate Leadership at 8020 anymore, they had enough integrity and respect to say they had left and why without resorting to cheap shots and character attacks.
That's why I joined and why, despite never having any of my photos appear in the pages of the magazine, :-( I stayed.
Thus far, Paul Cloutier has demonstrated contempt for the JPG Mag community, first by attempting to revise the history of the publication (removing Heather and Derek from the frame and removing the first six issues from the site), then with the old Corporate chestnut about Derek (no mention of Heather!) leaving to "pursue other projects," and then this rather limp protestation from him in the Unofficial JPG Magazine group on Flickr that they (he) never intended to rewrite the history of JPG Magazine (so, what, deleting Heather and Derek and the first six issues--basically, erasing the efforts of all the people who made the magazine and the community into the success that YOU are now enjoying was an accident? That someone just happened to open up these html documents, delete specific information, save the files and upload them and then republish and clear the caches? That was all One Big Oopsie? Riiiiight...).
So, the reason I deleted my JPG Magazine account is because I believe in Derek and Heather and I have no faith in the current leadership at 8020 Publishing, therefore I choose to not associate myself (or my photography) with them (despite the fact that Derek remains a shareholder in 8020).
I grieve the loss of the JPG Magazine I came to love, but I cannot wait to see what wonderful new thing the Powazek/Champs dream up next! I just hope that, whatever it is, I'll get to be a part of it!
Labels: Why it is
13 May, 2007
You'd think I would have learned by now.
Thursday evening, in a PMS-fueled snit-fit, I stopped by Miette bakery in the Ferry Building and got two cupcakes (all the while thinking, "I can NOT believe I'm spending six dollars on two cupcakes!"). Over the course of the evening, that was pretty much my supper. Oddly, Simon didn't seem to notice that Mom was eating sweet, yummy BAKED GOODS in his presence and he didn't beg (or, even more obnoxiously, dunk his paw in it to claim it). I put the cupcake papers back in the box they came in and set the box on top of the fridge because, having been to the Farmers' Market, my counter space was taken up by an obscene amount of fresh strawberries.
The next morning, just before I left for work, I set the Miette box on the counter so that I would put it in the trash before I left. However, I saw the strawberries on the counter and decided I had better move them to another location so Simon wouldn't get into them.
When I came home from work, the Miette box was lying on the living room floor, open. There was no trace of cupcake paper anywhere in the apartment. Until 1:13 a.m. Saturday morning, when Simon leaped off the bed and promptly horked up a hairball, accented with bits of cupcake wrapper.
10 May, 2007
We were in the Alameda/Oakland channel yesterday evening. I was leaning slightly over the rail, breathing in that wonderful fresh sea air and noticed deck hand shimming along the side of the boat. He grabbed a handle and leaned back toward the water. I was about to tease him and say, "Oh, sure! You do that here in the channel, let's see you try that stunt out on the open Bay!" But before I could say anything I spotted a Payne's Grey whiskery face bobbing in the water. I looked over and a seal was watching us sail by, twitching its whiskers at us. After we passed by it dove back under the water, satisfied that we weren't a fishing boat out to steal it's supper.
It's a shame everyone can't have such an entertaining commute!
08 May, 2007
...that I LOVE my commute!
07 May, 2007
Today was perfect. 80+ degrees (it was in the high 70's at 8:00 a.m. this morning!), sipping an icy drink on the back of the ferry with the bay breeze cooling me off. And YAY the pelicans are back!
Best. Commute. In. The. WORLD.
06 May, 2007
Simon turned six twice this week! The ICRA folks listed his birthdate as approximately 5/1, while the vet's office has his birthday at 5/5. Which is appropriate because Simon is a bit May Day and a bit Cinco de Mayo. And, hell, he won't complain about having TWO birthdays because that means twice as much attention and twice as many treats. Except his Mom abandoned him on Tuesday to go to the Morrissey concert (Simon's more a T-Rex kinda guy). So there was some making up to do for his birthday yesterday. Goat cheese was involved as was a lot of extra play time and snuggles.
Simon has gathered quite a fan club on flickr and got some truly wonderful birthday greetings for which he and I are grateful. To everyone who left a greeting, thank you, thank you, thank you!
(As long as I'm giving thanks...)Thankfully, we've managed to get through the week without Simon getting into any more baked goods. However (you knew that was coming, didn't you?), he still takes particular delight in stealing kibble out of Billie's dish (while she's trying to eat!). He's started this new "thing" where he'll finish eating his food and walk into the living room where I am. He'll have this perfectly sweet, innocent, Disney-cute expression on his face, you know, how cats do that thing where they make their eyes big and round and make their face so soft and fluffy? THAT expression. Then with a sharp "Mow!" he takes off in a full sprint to the bedroom where Billie is eating and manages to grab a mouthful of kibble before I can catch him. Sometimes I think he does this as much for the game as he does for the food: It's simultaneously frustrating and hilarious.
And that, in a nutshell, is life with Simon. There are moments where he is such a tyrant and a thug, but then, in the next moment, he is the most purely sweet and charming creature to ever roam the earth. And funny. My stars, I've never been around a creature with such a great sense of comedic timing! Little did I realize six years ago how fortunate I was about to become as my little fuzzy soulmate was making his way into the world (most likely mewling for his breakfast). Every day I give my thanks to the deity who watches over him (given the amount of chocolate, caffeinated drinks, plants and baked goods he's gotten into over the years, I KNOW he has a guardian angel out there, somewhere).
Happy Birthday, Poo-Poo Kitty!
05 May, 2007
So, a couple of months ago the CD player in my car, Luna, suddenly quit reading CDs. I took it to the dealership a couple of weeks ago and got it replaced (at no charge, since she's still under warranty). So this morning I wanted to switch out my Morrissey/Smiths mix CD for my Wilco mix CD but the player is refusing to spit out--or play--the Morrissey/Smiths one. Which means another call to the dealership and another appointment and another all-to-early morning on the road. And at least another week of NPR which isn't such a bad thing, except it's feckin' pledge drive week and I get so sick of the way they start sounding so condescending.
P.S. Anyone out there with a Subaru have this much trouble with their OEM stereo(s)?
01 May, 2007
Screeching "Mooooorrrissey!" at the end of every song the opening act plays is so assy. If you can't shut up and listen to the band (who knows? You might actually enjoy their music and want to hear more!) then at least be polite enough to leave the theatre. Go enjoy a drink or two in the lobby, visit the loo, talk on your cell phone. Your idiocy is not only an insult to the band on stage, but also an insult to the other people in the theatre and to Morrissey, since I'm guessing he has Kristeen Young opening for him because HE LIKES HER MUSIC.
*Is it ass hats or asshats? Or ass-hats? **shrug**