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The northwest is considered by some to be a kind of green thumb Garden of Eden. Today is June 28th and the sky hasn't changed from gray to blue once. Yesterday it rained all day. Apparently, one may not use a lawnmower in the rain. I find this intolerable. What kind of geographical excludism is this? I should sue. Or write a letter. How do people engage in the proper level of lawn care in other wet locals? Especially since rain makes things grow like they've been injected with steroids. How hard can it be in this day and age to give something back to the poor, overfed underexercised northwesterners who don't get to see the sun?
Anyways, I saw some tourists the other day and that cracked me up. Summer time comes and it's time to plan a vacation...where to go, where to go...Oregon! The land of the beaver and the blueberry. I don't know that I've ever seen a beaver actually. No non-football playing beavers anyway. And while you're here, before the water soaks through your hiking boots and makes your socks all moist and uncomfortably stuck to your feet...you should try to walk outside a little bit because things are oh-so-green!
Our area of the country is known for ONE type of cuisine...and that is salmon. If you don't like salmon then your stupid and you will starve.
We're also known for our hypocrisy, as the only state that voted for both Kerry and an amendment to ban gay marriage (and thereby equal rights) forever. What does blue and red make together? Ah yes, we're a purple state.
And we're known for our exceptionally bad basketball team, the Blazers. The team where they get more press from their drug busts than their playing.
We DO have some great bands from here. But they're easier to see in other cities.
That being said, I still don't' know what to do about mowing the grass in the rain.
Today I'm wearing monkey shoes in protest. I'm protesting Scientology, George Lucas, platform shoes, non-payday Fridays, and puns. All together. At once. Collectively. Because they all make me equally angry.
I'm done being angry at the worthwhile stuff, 'cause there's really nothing you can do about it, but everytime I hear a pun escape from someone's mouth I can just slap them.
If I read about Scientology in the paper, I can wrinkle it up into a ball and set it on fire, then put it in my Weber grill under some coals and cook burgers on it.
If I see George Lucas' ewoky face on television I can quickly turn it off, throw the remote across the living room, call Comcast and cancel my basic cable eliminating all reception. I'll even cancel the TiVo, I'm so angry.
I will call in sick on all non-payday Fridays. And each time I call, it will be with something deadly and/or contagious like the Consumption or Typhoid.
As for platform shoes, I have one word for you...chainsaw.
And my monkey shoes will sparkle and shine with glee.
Or, I can calm the hell down with a nice cup of tea.
Ahh, the wonderful world of public transport. Supposedly each bus is keeping 245 cars off the road or some such nonsense. I don't buy it...too many people are afraid of the crazies to deal with public transport. And too many people like their small man complex SUVs to even want to have to TRY to deal with public transport...high gas prices be damned. I saw a guy on the local news once that said, "Hey, as long as I can afford the gas, why shouldn't I get to drive as big a car as I want?". That guy is missing the bigger picture, and probably a good portion of the average person's brain mass designated to the use of common sense. Selfish American.
However, for all my self-righteous brouhaha, I got really angry at the public transit system this morning. Almost enough to go get my non-fuel effiecient, non-emissions tested, hippie Volvo and drive it the mile and a half into the city and use my lunch money for parking. But I didn't. Why this urge to move to the dark side? Oh god, I just made a Star Wars reference. The freaking bus left me. Was I late to the bus stop? No. Was I hiding behind a tree? No. Was the bus driver just an asshole. YES. So he passes me and stops at a red light. I figure, I can make it, and try to run to the next stop before the light changes. Right before I get there the light changes and the asshole roars off. Where the hell does he have to be? Is it urgent that he get to the end of his route so that he can turn around and come back in time to pass all his other stops early to screw over the afternoon riders? Is this what shall be forever known as bus driver's glee? The definition being the act of bus stop assholishness?
Now with all the drama going on in the world currently, do I have any right to be so TO'd? Oh god, a Napoleon Dynamite reference. The answer my friends, is yes, I flippin' do. Why is that? Because I'm taking nasty ass public transport with the crazies and the smellies, and the seats covered in questionable substances and the old lady with the rolling cart and the white dreadlocks so high I'm convinced there are birds nesting somewhere within. She must ride the bus 20 times in a day, back and forth aross the bridge, and she's ruining my life! Displacement? Maybe.
I saw a picture of Condoleeza Rice's hair in the New York Times this morning. What's amazing here is not that I read the New York Times, cause I don't really...I just like Maureen O'Dowd's op-ed pieces; what IS amazing is how much nicer and less like she stole Rick Moranis' helmet from Spaceballs Condi looks with her hair all curled under instead of flipping out in an eerily unmovable way. Of course she's still an idiot. Just because she FINALLY paid attention to the considerable free fashion advice permeating such media outlets as the E Entertainment network, VH1 and Bravo doesn't make the fact that she's giving a speech in Saudi Arabia enouraging the country to jump on the equality of women bandwagon any less stupid. Here she is in a country where women are still set on fire for disobeying their menfolk and it doesn't occur to her that they might get a little insulted at being told BY a woman how THEY should be treating women. Yeah, men are traditionally so accepting of critcism from the opposite sex. And since lectures from American government officials have gotten us so far in the Middle East in the past, I'm sure we'll see women in the Saudi voting booths in no time. Please note sarcasm.
Next time...what the hell is with pearl necklaces? Can you not live or work in Washington as a woman if you do not own one? Is a First Lady only respected if she's seen wearing a strand in public? Do they both sleep and bathe with them on until they leave Washington? Why is it that pearl necklaces transcend political affiliations and clashing value systems in a way that nothing else can?
