aleatory contract

my own personal Waterloo

Saturday, March 31, 2007

i want to see a marshmallow peeps version

your own

a saviour that you can eat
a saviour that's sweet....

not content with getting low-level staffers fired from presidential campaigns and running batshit-crazy half-page ads on the NY Times op-ed page, bill donohue has now turned his wrath toward a sculptor who dared to depict jesus on the cross.... NAKED! AND WITH A PENIS!

he's actually angrier about the penis than about the medium of the sculpture, which i find odd, since he has yet to mount a campaign against, you know, the renaissance.

Friday, March 23, 2007

the discussion below reminds me of the very first time i ever saw an abortion protest: i was about five, and my mother, grandmother and i were at a Dunkin' Donuts drivethrough window in a stripmall parkinglot. it was the Dunkin' Donuts on Ritchie Highway, in Pasadina, near the Marley Station mall. it's still there. the protesters had a full compliment of six-foot-wide, full-colour photos of mangled fetuses, and there was lots of yelling. i had no idea what they were doing, and no one else in the car did, either. no attempt was made to explain it to me, presumably because, well, what are you supposed to say to that? as far as i know, no abortion provider was ever located in that stripmall, and it was morning -- i think a saturday. presumably, then, they just wanted to gross people out over breakfast.

considering the location, full-colour blowups of athreosclerosis and open heart surgery would have been more appropriate, really.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

red buttercream with sprinkles

since i know the deep and unquenchable thirst all of the internets have for knowledge of the state of my uterus, please allow me to report that i am the new, proud owner of an IUD. this one, specifically. i now no longer have to think about birth control until march of 2019. that is, like, seven years after the mayan calendar is going to end. i am 99.1% assured of no pregnancies until well after nebiru will destroy us all. convenience, thy name is intrauterine device. i have no idea why more women don't get these.

...well, i do, actually: they're expensive, and some doctors don't offer them, let alone push them. insurance (if you're lucky enough to have it) will often cover the cost, though, and over the long run they're far cheaper than pills, not to mention more convenient. they're far more common in europe than they are here. considering their safety and efficacy, it's a bloody shame more people don't know about them. so, as a public service: IUDs. you will like them, and they look cool, although once they're in your uterus you don't see them anymore. and if your anatomy is roughly normal, and you have a reasonably competent health care provider, you can have one inserted, with little discomfort, on an ordinary office visit, in about twenty minutes. since moving to santa fe, i have used Planned Parenthood as my provider, and they were more than happy to set me up with one.

of course, nothing about me tends toward the normal, and when last i tried to get an IUD, back in early february, i spent an hour with large sharp metal prongs jabbed in my cervix while a kind-but-useless nurse practitioner tried in vain to find my internal oss. (she did not explain what an internal oss was, adding to my consternation. although only slightly, because, you know, sharp things invading my nether regions, but whatever.) the oss having eluded her, she referred me to albuquerque, to a facility with an ultrasound machine.

i waited until my spring break to schedule the insertion, as albuquerque is an hour's drive away and insertions are only performed at the ABQ location on tuesday and thursday mornings, when i have class. when i called last week to make the appointment, the receptionist warned me about the likelihood of protester harrassment, and gave me the standard advice: don't engage, ignore, keep walking.

"clinic protesters", i thought. "weird! they do still exist outside of the deep south and episodes of 21 Jump Street!" (the PP clinic in santa fe doesn't perform abortions, and it hadn't occured to me that going to a clinic which did would make such a difference.)

we arrived at the clinic, greg and i. they have a parkinglot, but we passed it accidentally and decided, instead of pulling an ugly U-turn, to turn down a side-street, park in a residential area just behind the clinic, and walk. this lead us to a little alleyway, walled-off on one side. i thought this would lead to the clinic entrance, so we turned down it, and found ourselves in the midst of the protest. well, shit.

they seemed to still be setting up. there were a few signs leaning against the tall fence: "Abortion Kills", with a copyright-infringing picture of the Gerber baby; "We Can Help You", "Savior Baby" (sic?). one protester was perched on a tall stepladder; i wasn't quite sure what he was setting up. there were only a few present, but all were male and middleaged save one: a quiet, mousy, bespectacled woman of perhaps nineteen or twenty. the menfolk were greeting eachother -- it had the feel of shiftworkers punching in at the factory. she stood slightly apart, hands crossed against her chest.

we walked past them. i braced for an onslaught, but was met only with a "hello" or two. i returned the greeting, astounded at the civility.

at this point, we discovered that we had taken a wrong turning, and that we'd have to circle the block to find the entrance. find it we did, and walked on, to discover that the walled-off alleyway was, in fact, a sort of holding-pen for the protesters, meant evidently to keep them back. to be seen over the wall, they had to take turns standing on the stepladder. suddenly, the man who had greeted me politely only moments ago began shouting and jeering at us -- or, rather, i should say, at greg. he yelled at greg, and only at greg: "Don't do this! You need to be a real man! You need to stand up and take responsibility for your actions! Do your duty and step up to the plate!"not a word was said to me. against the receptionist's advice, i eventually engaged the dude, but he refused to acknowledge me at all, actually replying, "i'm not talking to you. i'm talking to HIM!"

curious, considering i was the one with the womb, and all.

i can't account for the change in behaviour, between our walk down the alley and our walk through the parkinglot and through the clinic door. it's possible they thought we were there for the protest. it's possible they thought we were just pedestrians.

in the clinic waiting room, a small television played first an infomercial for a Makeover Weight Loss Body System, then an episode of the Maury Povitch Show involving paternity testing. the latter particularly seemed a... rather uncomfortable selection, all things considered. the space was cramped and the wait was long, but the procedure itself was quick, the nurses and doctor very informative and open, and afterward they even gave me gingerale.

the protest was still muddling about when we left; a large crucifix with a rubber Jesus stuck to it had been lashed to the stepladder, and greg's interlocuter was still standing there, only his head visible above the wall. he didn't say anything.

to celebrate my liberation from my reproductive system, we went to cake fetish afterwards. scott, if you still need convincing to move out here, i would think this might do it. fuck your rockabilly hipster pie shop. CUPCAKES, bitch.

we got a dozen minicakes, one of each flavour, and a big cupcake each to eat while there. i went with Sleepless in Albuquerque, and greg went with a Red Elvis. the minicakes were intended for later enjoyment, but we've already eaten, like, nine of them, and damn they were tasty.

i wonder if the protesters know about the cupcake shop? it's a much better place to spend a wet spring day.

Monday, March 19, 2007

DAH dah dah dah dah DAH dah dah DAH

so i have, at long last, been forced to watch Star Wars.

not just the first movie, not just what i have come to know is called "episode IV", which is all that i thought would be involved when i initially, grudgingly, agreed to watch Star Wars.

no, i have seen all fucking three of the Star Wars, since there are, evidently, three of them.

i have also seen at least parts of Phantom Menace, though i found the (unintentional?) quasi-racism, the hideous acting, the even worse writing, and the sick abuses of CGI too much to stomach at times and fled to another part of the house. i am currently fortifying myself with alcoholic beverages for the coming onslaught that is to be Episode 2 (is it episode 2? something about clones, or something?)

whatever it is, it is about to walk through that door and be shoved into the DVD player. the things we do for love.

Friday, March 09, 2007

and a little bit of tender mercy

i had planned today to watch somebody get obliterated in their oral, but when i arrived, i discovered that they'd begun it ten minutes early, so i couldn't go in and watch. it was very unfair, and i was angry and sulked for quite some period of time over it. this probably means that i am a horrible person, but i very much wanted to see mr. goldfarb and company shoot this senior down. he did utterly unforgivable things to the english language in his paper. mercifully, it was also really short. but still!

but it was not to be. so i kicked a trashcan, and then i had a milkshake and i felt better, and then i acquired a lithops, which greg has named Darnielle. Darnielle joins our rapidly growing menagerie of succulents. Franklin The Aloe is presently growing at an alarming rate. if he continues to sprout successive new franklinettes, i really am not sure what i will do with them all. we are in the desert, it's true, but it's damn cold and rainy for a desert. outside is probably not a viable option. pretty soon we are going to need a bigger house for all these succulents, or at least a house with a windowsill, since right now they are all living on our pantry shelf, clustered between the olive oil and the Cock Sauce, the only place where there is plenty of sunlight and no threat of destruction wreaked by cat.

eventually, we might be able to make a house out of Franklins, i guess.

in addition to the succulents, we have an italian stone pine named Phyllis. i think i may have killed Phyllis with excessive watering and/or sunlight. this is part of the reason i am coming to be so fond of succulents: they are very hard to kill.

four crabs going to montana

so the Pike's Place fish market of seattle has a motivational video. it seems to be aimed at the Who Moved My Cheese? market. it is about how throwing large dead fish at people can teach you the meaning of happiness through finding yourself.

no, really.

this is supposed to liberate you from the drudgery of your miserable fucking workplace and you're supposed to like Choose To Embrace The Attitude Of Finding The Fun In The Now. or something. this will in turn enable you to unlock your inner twentysomething stoner white dude working a low-skill retail gig, so that even when you are huddled in your cubicle on a rainy afternoon, poking at your cheerless container of lowfat yogurt with a plastic spoon as you stare at row after row of other cubicles full of others doing the same thing, you can think back on those retail workers, and smile as you recall their simple, warm, honest joie de vivre and zest for life and resolve to teach yourself to feel that enthusiasm and totally fail to realise that they, like every other retail employee you encounter in probably every transaction ever, were probably all faking it, because they're retail employees, and that's what they're paid to do, in addition to lifting heavy things and smiling ingratiatingly and pretending they're not as hungover as they actually are.

you are not supposed to do any of this by throwing fish yourself. they emphasised this point.

i'm not sure which is more appalling: that my employers chose to make me (and my fellow mostly-twentysomething, mostly-stoner, mostly-white low-skill retail employees) watch this video -- or that they paid $599 for this video in order to show it to us. because they did. the manager told us so. "because we really feel like it's worth it!" he said, without a hint of irony.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

but i don't wanna stay up all night. i don't i don't i don't.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

i am about to make fondue. in my Very Own Fondue Pot. this may be the happiest day of my life.

Friday, March 02, 2007

greg just got himself invited to a costume party -- primarily, i believe, to avoid having to go to the gym this evening. i have twenty minutes to figure out my "alter ego". what should my alter ego be?