Clap, everybody. Clap! OH MY GOD IT’S MY BLOG’S ANNIVERSARY AND I ALMOST FORGOT. Three years! Damn.

Happy birthday, Blog. I do love you so.

from the Wacky Mailbox:

“On December 28th, a federal court issued an order preventing Oregon from implementing its new domestic partnership law until at least Feb. 1. The court’s decision was in response to a lawsuit brought by an out-of-state right wing interest group. This unnecessary delay has put hundreds of caring, committed couples in harm’s way. It’s up to us to ensure that Oregonians understand what’s at stake. Join Basic Rights Oregon at the Rally to Defend Equality on January 30.

Gay or straight – it’s time to stand up and be counted.

Support Oregon families by joining us at Wednesday’s Rally to Defend Equality. Bring your friends and family with you! (more…)

Dear Thursday 13ers and All of You Usual Suspects,

I’m dedicating this week’s Thursday Thirteen to you (and you and you and you)… Why? Because you deserve it.

13) I love my readers for a lot of reasons. Number 13 would have to be — You’re pretty good about keeping your head on straight, even when I’m not.

12) You laugh at my bad jokes.

11) And my good jokes. Um. Make that “good joke”? I think I’ve maybe told one good joke here. At some point.

10) Whether I’m talking about General Hospital, school politics, sex, recipes, gardening, whatever, there’s always someone out there who can relate.

9) I’ve “met” all kinds of people I would have never met otherwise, all ages, all types, all parts of the world. It’s cool.

8) I like being able to help, if someone’s having a hard time, or needs a question answered, or just wants to kvetch.

7) My readers are rilly, rilly, rilly funny. It adds some lightness to my day, when people leave comments.

6) However, the trolls can stay quiet.

5) People are usually pretty supportive, even when I’m being an idiot.

4) Y’all go with the flow, which I appreciate.

3) You’re pretty.

2) You’re handsome.

1) Happy Holidays!!!!!

Love,

WM

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, Y’ALL! wm

Thursday Thirteeners and Usual Suspects,

That Vixen. She kills me. She tagged me for a meme, “A Little About Us.” Cuz you know — Hockey God and I wrote the book of love. Steve, mi amor, I adore you.

The basic facts: (more…)

All that Hockey God wants for his birthday is:

CHOCOLATE BUTTERSCOTCH SCOTCHEROOS

1 c. corn syrup
1 c. peanut butter
1 (6 oz.) pkg. chocolate chips
1 c. sugar
6 c. Rice Krispies
1 (6 oz.) pkg. butterscotch chips

In large saucepan, cook corn syrup and sugar over medium heat, stirring frequently, until mixture begins to boil. Remove from heat. Stir in peanut butter. Mix in cereal.

Press in buttered 9 x 13 pan. Melt over hot (not boiling) water chocolate chips and butterscotch chips, stirring constantly until smooth. Spread over cereal mixture. Chill until firm, about 15 minutes.

(Old family recipe.) (HA! HA!)

“Stick a candle in it and call it good.”
— Hockey God

Why I Declared Wednesdays No Arguing With Assclowns on the Internet Day! Woot!

Thursday 13ers and Usual Suspects,

Do you hate to be wrong? I don’t mind it so much when I am, cuz what’s the point? Sometimes I’m wrong, sometimes I’m right. I’d like to think I usually am not an idiot, that I’m learning from my mistakes, but who knows? I could be wrong. I’ve been wrong before! Sometimes I change my mind. Lose interest. Give up and go out for sushi, where the conversation is usually much more interesting than the one I’ve been engaging in on the Internet. That’s right. I “talk” with people on the Internet. (And in person — I do leave the house, have a life, run around, you know. Things that don’t involve the computer.)

Lately? Lately my husband and I have been doing a lot of political work. By “a lot” I mean, “a lot even for us.” Political work is enough to make your head implode. So along come the trolls:

“What do you know about it? You’re selfish and making things up! My preshus children go 2 a chartr skool and they luv it and are rilly rilly smart! Yer children would be smart, 2, if you wern’t such a selfish beoyotch!” Etc.

Then I feel compelled to say things like, hell no I don’t want my kids at your hippie-dippie little feel-good charter school, they’re fine at their neighborhood school. Yes, they unchain them from their desks sometimes. And it’s open to everyone, their school. It’s not hoity. No, actually, charter schools are exclusive and hoity. That’s why there aren’t any black kids/Mexican kids/poor kids, etc. at your school, see? (This is true of Portland charters, anyway. So please excuse me if your charter has the All-Asian Boys’ Juggling Troupe, and if it wasn’t for your special school, they never would have learned how to juggle! “None of the other skools they went 2 ever let them juggle, Witchie-Poo! You’re mean! What do you have against juggling?”)

But there I go again, see? Arguing. I give up, Internets. I will no longer argue! On Wednesdays! If you have occasionally had an “arguing” problem with “The Internets” and want to participate in this fine venture of mine, please send me an e-mail or leave a comment; I would be happy to give you a cheerful SHOUT-OUT!

My 13 reasons:

1) Why bother? No one wins.

2) Everyone thinks they’re a big expert, especially me, the Witchie-Poo of all-time. I will be an expert without typing out, “I am expert, not you,” and then will have a merry little laugh.

3) Head. Implodes. With too much conflict. Less conflict, more playtime.

4) What works for me might not work for someone else. Who cares?

5) I’m all, you know, zen. Cuz I went for acupuncture today.

6) I think, would my acupuncturist waste his time arguing? No, he would not. He’d throw some needles in them and tell them to quiet down their spleens. And then he’d say, Your chi is all out of whack. Let’s rechannel it. Then he’d light some moxa on their bellies, in their belly buttons, and say, Let’s draw some of that out. Then he’d do that, you know, five or six times, ’til they were goofy-relaxed, and ask, Better? They’d be all, What was I saying?

7) Why argue when you can make love? Go for sushi? Walk in the rain? Watch the Zamboni go ’round and ’round?

“There are three things in life that people like to stare at: a flowing stream, a crackling fire and a Zamboni clearing the ice.”
— Charlie Brown

8) I thought, if I can give up arguing on Wednesdays, eventually I’ll be able to branch out to Thursdays. Possibly Tuesdays. Perhaps (dare I hope for this?) seven days a week? Yes.

“Victory is mine/ Victory is mine/ Victory today is mine/ I told Satan/ Get thee behind/ Victory today is mine… (etc.) Love is mine… Joy is mine… Peace is mine…”

Om.

9) Sometimes when people really, really argue with you? And won’t give up? And are determined to make you change your mind? At any cost they just have to or it will kill them… It’s because they’re wrong. They know they’re wrong, and they’ve been wrong for a long time.

10) Nyah. (You can think nyah, but please do not say it out loud.) (The children are listening.)

11) If you argue, even if you’re right, it makes you look defensive. Don’t be defensive — be who you are and stand up for yourself and others, but don’t get defensive. You need to defend yourself if you absolutely have to, though. Like if someone tries to steal your chocolate bar.

12) The Internet gives bullies a safe place to hide and then (virtually) jump out at people. I’m not hiding — I’m right here, every day. Bullies, be gone. Go get your own blogs.

13) Love. Love and compassion and all that. It works.

Don’t be argumentative, friend. Don’t let the Internet assclowns get you down. Life is good.

Love,

WM

“Are you upset little friend? Have you been lying awake worrying? Well, don’t worry…I’m here. The flood waters will recede, the famine will end, the sun will shine tomorrow, and I will always be here to take care of you.”
— Charlie Brown to Snoopy”

We started packing up our house and paring down after Hurricane Katrina. Because you just never know when a hurricane is going to tear through, even in placid Portland, Ore.

Naw, it was because my girlfriend R, an old friend of my sister’s and mine, lost her house in New Orleans and almost everything in it. She, her husband and her kids were okay, and sometimes, that’s enough. But they lost all their stuff, see? No stuff! So I packed up roughly half of my house and sent it to them. I had too much stuff, anyway.

R’s sister, C, wrote Diary from Louisiana entries about their experiences for my blog, so their friends would have a place to find them and know what was going on in their world. You’ll find the posts here, here, here, here, here, here, here and also here.

Me at the post office, mailing another three boxes: “You got a rate for ‘We’re in Deep Shit, Louisiana, please help’?”
Post office guy: “Nope. I wish we did.”
Me: “Gimme book rate.”

I mailed them towels, dishes, toys, toothpaste, toiletries, videos, books, sheets. Basically anything that would fit into a box, didn’t weigh too much, and that I could tape shut and not have the box break open. My sister and our friends mailed them some stuff, too, and some people kicked in a little money.

That is what you call “love in a box,” my friend.

They shared it all out, then they sent us a King Cake for Mardi Gras, and a thank you note. A thank you note! This undid me. I love Southern girls. They are thoughtful, even in the time of a crisis. I have not heard from them in awhile and I miss them. They are nice girls, you’d like them.

So what I’m saying is, how can I have so much junk to pack? We are anti-junk here. We’re not compulsive shoppers, we share the love, we don’t have any excessive habits. I am a little intimidated by how much we have to pack — dishes, towels, plastic dohickeys, toys, clothes, books…

Hockey God, on packing: “I’m not opposed to throwing it all in boxes and just taking it to the new place. I’ve done it before.”

That was just what I needed to hear. So if I’m not blogging much? It’s cuz I’m packing.

Well, look who was quoted in the Portland Tribune today — that’s right. Hockey God, aka my husband, Steve-o.

I haven’t spent a lot of time at Humboldt, but the times I have been there, I’ve been impressed. (Do you remember that post, you old-timers to this blog? My legs were bruised for weeks. Harsh toke.)

(Now that we’re being interviewed by the media — and by “we” I mean Steve — do I have to stop saying things like “harsh toke”? How about “ride the fucking six pack”? Where do you stand on that? How do you feel about the “f” word? Hmm. Will ponder. Leave me a note in comments if you’d like.)

And Humboldt — excellent work, you guys.

(If you’re interested in more PPS archives, right here is where I started bitching up a storm about a little $5.2 million dollar grant that wasn’t getting spent in the Jefferson Cluster. And right here is where you’ll find a Willamette Week story about all the hard work Lynn Schore has been doing to track said grant money. And right here is where you’ll find one of the money maps my husband has put together.)

“To the fury of hard-core Diana fans, London-based Australian feminist and academic Germaine Greer has been leading the charge against the glorification of Diana. On Sunday, the acid-tongued Greer described Diana as “the slowest of the four Spencer children”, a child given to “preposterous fibs”, “sly malevolence”, “devious” and intent on building a false image of herself for an adoring world. To the dismay of Diana-lovers, Greer backed up most of her accusations with facts culled from the Princess’s life, illustrating the cunning stupidity she claimed to be Diana’s defining characteristic.”

— The Times of India, 8/29/07

Well. I think that’s what serves all women best, don’t you? When we gang up on each other, back-bite, and call names. (more…)

Lemon, rest in peace now. You were a great girl — we loved you. I still crack up about “the special rolling technique” all the time. You brought light and laughter — that still remains.

wm (& hg)

willamette week story

(ps — Gordon Smith, thank you for your help.)