March 30, 2005


O.K. I watched the show this morning with the girls, but also recorded it for R to view when he comes home. I have musical rehearsal tonight until 10:30p and am just popping in to say quicky (before I run the girls to swim team, come back get dinner ready, run back to pick-up girls, come home again to drop them off and then hurry off- I will never do a musical again. Ever.) that after I view it again (I need to see it once more), I will then post my thoughts.

Suffice it to say, they edited quite a bit, but not unfairly, but rather to make it appear more equally debated.

Until then, see Jeff's summary in the comments of the previous post.

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Rae at 03:45 PM | Comments (12) | It's ALL about me
» Everyday Thoughts Collected links with: Michelle Malkin


Oh. My. Goodness.

I just watched the preview (with dial-up watching my mouth freeze in strange, melting positions has given some comic relief), and we are set to take in the airing at 11 A.M. here on our little television.

There are so many things that I recall thinking I should have said or that I wish I would have thought of while taping. Ah, well.

I'll be back with my own thoughts on myself later, which is something I tend to do everyday on this site. The difference today is that I'll be looking at my eyes instead of through them.

(Initial thought from the preview- what the heck happened to my hair? Deep, I know.)

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March 29, 2005

Ready or Not

We have played hide and seek as a family since our girls were quite small. I recall being the Counter and R hiding with whomever was the baby at the time. I would cheat and call out for my baby, the sound of her laughter clueing me as to their conspiratorial hiding place.

Last night we played. It was so much fun! I hid in our closet behind the lower rack of clothes. It was uncomfortable having a stiletto heel penetrate my back, but it was so exciting when the door opened, the light came on, the hunter standing quietly waiting for a mistake on the part of the prey. I held my breath and didn't move, stifling giggles. Victory! After the swishing of a few hangers, the light dimmed and the door closed.

I waited. I love hearing the questions of "where is she" floating through the vents and muted through the doors and floors of the house. Finally, A came back and did a more thorough excavation. I stiffened. She touched my leg and whispered, "I found you." "Shhhh!" I commanded. She snorted her complacent pleasure in finding me, turned off the light and shut the door.

A few more minutes pass and I hear more foot steps, being more than one person, coming to the bedroom, coming to the closet, opening the door, light filtering through the pants, shirts, jackets. The clothes part, like the Red Sea, and a shout of triumph goes up among the people. Finally, I am found.

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Ad Me

Recently, I stumbled upon a new blog advertisement system, The New Jane, just for chicks. I joined and am having the most fun with it. Genia Stevens (she maintains the Blogs by Women blog) came up with it, and although she is my antithesis (a liberal le$bian) she and I have a mutual admiration for one anothers writing.

Anyway, all blogging women are encouraged to check it out. It is a non-partisan, all-inclusive female blogging ad network, so you may see things with which you don't agree, or that you personally find offensive. My theory: if you don't like the sound of it, don't click the link.

If you join, send a kickback my way and tell them that Rae from A Likely Story sent you. It will come back to you in more hits and an increased readership.

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Am cranky and irritable this

Am cranky and irritable this morning. I am sure it will soon go away. I hope it will go away. It had better go away.....

Updated: Thought another cup of coffee and fifteen more minutes of procrastination would help, but, I am thinking GB is right: I need a nap. Now.

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March 28, 2005

The Scent of a Woman

The scent of tuberose playfully pulls me back to watching my mother ready herself for an evening out. Anywhere that I am when it drifts past me is instantly transformed to the bathroom, complete with lemon yellow tile and matching carpet. She would lean against the sink, getting closer to the mirror, slightly opening her mouth and widening her eyes to apply mascara. When finished she would swipe a wet Q-tip across her lid, tidying up. Next, she would rub a tiny bit of rouge across her cheeks, like the slopes of mountains, peaking just to the side of her face. Red lipstick then rolled out of the tube and slide across her mouth. Now finished, she would step back, her milk chocolate brown eyes blinking several times as she scrutinized her artwork.

Read more The Scent of a Woman »

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I confess to getting more nervous as the airing of the show gets nearer. Thoughts of vanity (How do I look on television? [The length of my hair interferred with the microphone, so I had to keep it behind my right shoulder] How do I sound on tv- as in the actual sound of my voice, and well-articulated or grasping?) keep running through my mind, as well as concern for how it might be edited.

I am not set up to LiveBlog the show (oh for a Notebook and wireless card!), but will take notes, copy, and publish them immediately following my Mountain Time airing.

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March 27, 2005

My favorite account of the

My favorite account of the resurrection of Christ is when Mary went to prepare His body for burial. I cannot retell it without small, deeply personal tears slipping into the corners of my eyes. I can only imagine the anxious night she had spent, perhaps just drifting beneath the surface of sleep if at all, and leaving at first light to go to care for body of Jesus in the tomb.

When she does not at first recognize Him sitting there, and continues her weeping, He softly calls her name, "Mary." I don't think it was done in chastisement, but rather a calm tone, said while smiling. I am sure it is my intense desire to be known, and to know, and perhaps the anticipation I have in hearing Him say my own name that endears this telling to me.

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March 26, 2005

Grumpy Doe and Sarcastic Buck

Grumpy Bunny gave hubby a blog; it looks to be a good read.

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March 25, 2005


We are in the thick of our Medieval study of history.

The other day we fled to the library to allow for our carpet (which was being cleaned by Chem-Dry and was supposed to be a high-extraction method; however, it is slightly damp to pull the pile back into place- and I must say, they look fabulous) to dry. We packed school in a bag and reserved one of the spacious study rooms for several hours.

While the girls finished up their math assignments, I went hunting for books on the Arthurian legend, one of the literary loves of my life. I found some well-known references, but was delighted to happen upon several new ones, too.

Two of my immediate favorites, Merlin and the Making of A King and The Kitchen Knight: A Tale of King Arthur, by Margaret Hodges and illustrated byTrina Schart Hyman. This team colaborated on Saint George and the Dragon in 1990 which was awarded the prestigious Caldecott Medal for Children's literature (which we also own).

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Chopin's Ballade in G minor,

Chopin's Ballade in G minor, Opus 23 is playing and snow is is a lovely morning.

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March 24, 2005

What We've All Been Waiting For

The Larry Elder Show will air the segment on which I appeared on Wednesday, March 30.

Check here for your local listing.

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March 23, 2005

A Girl and Her God

While in therapy the second time in my life, and after having to share quite a few specifics of the ugliness and dreadfulness of it all, and after being given an especially trying assignment, my therapist, a woman, a Christian whom shared my own religious perspective, ended the session with prayer. I had learned in this 45 minutes that it was God who was the focus of my anger; that I couldn't find it within myself to believe that He could save my soul, but neglected to protect the innocence of my girlhood. I was seething with bitter anger and disappointment. I hadn't taken communion in months, conveniently finding a reason to slip out of the services to stand somewhere in the building and quietly mock the Sacrament of the Body and Blood that had saved that which I couldn't see, had never seen, but could so painfully feel.

Read more A Girl and Her God »

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The Law of the Shaw

After teaching C her spelling lesson this morning, I am beginning to think Mr. Shaw was on to something.

(And funny that I had to find out what "Xlrq" means by searching for the above link. It's a small 'sphere, after all).

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Isn't It Time for Lunch?

I am craving a three-cheese Grilled Cheese sandwich with a dill pickle and a cold draft beer. And no pregnant jokes 'cause it ain't so.

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March 22, 2005

Make Mine a Foster's

If you aren't already a regular reader of The Atlantic- and you should be- get it this month just to read the piece by David Foster Wallace, "Host."

With (literally) colorful, jocose editorial sidenotes, explanations and micro-histories, he examines the conservative talk show phenomena through the lens of John Ziegler, host of The John Ziegler Show broadcast out of KFI, the local right-wing monarch of AM radio in Los Angeles.

I was able to glean the perfect explanation for my conservative political siblings as to why their moderate sister much prefers the news (even with an "elite" perspective) over entertainment from a related article by P.J. O'Rourke linked at The Atlantic site:

"I listen to NPR: "World to end—poor and minorities hardest hit. I like to argue with the radio."

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March 20, 2005


"The story of my life is the story of the people in it....I remember everything."

Black Beauty, Black Beauty

I love this quiet, sad, yet hopeful film. The soundtrack is very lovely and appropriately contemplative.

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Tom Kitten

I am convinced that the word on the street among those animals lost and abandoned, or simply locked out for the night, is to come here.

Last week, I was drawn to the garage by the meowing of a strange cat. Yes, those who have them know the distinct call of their pets, and this wasn't one of mine. We had left the garage door up and a male parti-colored tabby was crouching beneath R's latest toy, a 1983 Trans Am. Sam kept looking at Isabel, begging her to do something about this intruder before he lost his mind. Isabel, simply watched and waited. She is a cool, calculating defender and wisely conserves her energies for a true attack.

I squatted down to get a look at him. We meowed back and forth for a few minutes, and I quietly called to him, my hand extended. He sized me up, and then crept out, rubbing his head beneath my outstretched hand. I immediately noticed a stainless steel rod sticking out of his right shoulder. I petted him a moment, cooing and talking to him. Then I called R out to look at the rod. My voice startled the tom back to safety beneath the Trans Am. I called him out a second time and against my better judgment, attempted to pick him up. He gently, but firmly resisted and I let him go, although I held him long enough for R to get a look. He seemed to walk fine, so we determined that it didn't land there by accident and was some sort of bone stabilizer.

He chasséd out onto the driveway, turning to call me out with him. I followed. He took a turn around me, rubbing against my jeans. I quickly left him to retrieve two bowls, filling one with water, the other with food when I came back out to the garage. By then, he found shelter under R's truck. Again we played the lover wooing her beloved, and out he came. He ate a bit, stopping once to look up. I turned to see what was distracting him, and saw Isabel, sitting quietly a few feet away. He strolled over to her, misjudging her demeanor. She simply raised one paw, gave a slight, disconnected growl, and he left. He didn't run, but he moved away into the dark, just beyond the light of the garage, with only his eyes glowing and blinking at me.

The food was gone the next day, and so was he. I wondered who would take a cat to get his broken shoulder fixed, but not collar him, or neuter him. I know animals can get away, and it does cause concern and is out of our control sometimes. I only hope he was lost for a night, and was able to make his way home. If not, he knows where to come and I am sure that our reputation as an animal hostel has been secured.

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March 19, 2005

Handy with A Dustcloth

I have been cleaning blog ALL DAY long!

I went into Haloscan and retrieved comments that I packed and saved but never set-up once I got moved to MuNu.

Then I found several old spam comments and decided to clean out all the corners (delete them).


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March 18, 2005

The Horizon

Emphases mine.

Dear Dad -

Last night was my last spent in the city of Fallujah (at least for this tour). We came out of the city today and are back on our base. Our replacements have arrived and we are now waiting to rotate home.

Today was a perfect example of how far we have come on the backs of the incredible young Marines, Soldiers and Sailors who have been a part of the Regiment since we arrived in February 2004.

Read more The Horizon »

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A Few More Than You

Several years ago while brushing A's hair in the early morning of Thanksgiving Day, she announced that she wasn't going to learn to cook. I parted her hair and brushed it into two halves. As we were standing in front of a mirror, I tried to hide my amusement. She wouldn't appreciate me finding humor in her proclamation. She then said that she wasn't going to get married (this was when boys were still more annoying than not) and thus she didn't need to learn the fine art of food preparation.

As I wound one ribbon around a doggy-ear, I asked her if she ate. Her eyes widened, as they typically did when she sensed she was being led to a certain conclusion. She nodded. I tied the ribbon and turned her slightly to begin again on the other side. I told her that she would need to at least know how to feed herself.

I finished tying the second ribbon and we stood for a moment, looking at one another in the reflection. I smoothed the few rebellious hairs that refused to be tamed, still stiffling a grin. The smell of the pies baking reached under the door and teased and tempted to draw us out of our momentary reverie.

I opened the door and allowed the fullness of the kitchen smells to fetter our exchanged thoughts. Before leaving, she proclaimed that she wasn't going to have a large family anyway.... "Only five or six babies."

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Pretty in Pink

Ooooh, I just love new accessories and am always excited for someone else when they get them.

Hint: look up in the address bar. (You may have to refresh to get it to show up).

P.S. Am working on something bigger this morning, but simply must get other things done today.

P.P.S. Jumped on the trampoline with A, C, and K yesterday. It was so very fun!

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The Pollyanna of the 'Sphere

The Pollyanna of the 'Sphere is celebrating her 2nd Blogiversary.

Many Happy Returns of the Day, sister.

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By Sword or Lance

Just a little note that we really like A Knight's Tale, and the soundtrack....perfect. Who can be in a foul mood with such music playing?

This needs to be purchased and put into the Saturday Songs to Clean By rotation.

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March 17, 2005

Questions for Randy

1. Does movement in your spirit move your art?

2. What music do you reach for when in the following moods:
a) angry
b) somber
c) contented
d) grateful

3. What is the earliest artwork you remember creating? Do you have any of your art from your childhood? (You'll need it, you know, when you are a famous artist).

4. What is something about yourself that people might often presume to be true but isn't?

5. Where is your most favorite place in the world?

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Rae at 12:24 PM | Comments (2) | Knights of the Table
» Everyday Thoughts Collected links with: Interview with BlogRae

Vewy Intewesting....

Thanks to Ith, a fun little test (registration required).

I am 68% Feminine, 32% Masculine.

Specifics of my "Masculine" Side:
You scored in the mid-range of liking sports compared to other people. You're physically active, but it's not an obsession. You may be more of a spectator than a player when it comes to sports. When making choices about how you spend your time, there are occasions when you really want to be active and at other times you'd rather be more sedentary. You may get competitive at times, but it's not a defining quality.

True for the most part. I am actually quite competitive, but it isn't limited to sports. I just like to win. Mature, I know.

Read more Vewy Intewesting.... »

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Rain, Rain Come Today

For some reason today, I am really missing a good thunderstorm, complete with lightning and a great downpour. I hope that when we go back to the Midwest this summer for my brothers wedding, we get a tremendous rain. Not on their wedding day, of course.

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March 16, 2005

Parental Rights

Anything that Little Miss Attila writes is good reading.

Prompted by a recent discussion, which is already linked several places in the 'sphere, Little Miss has written why she disagrees with Parental Notification Laws. I am in support of them, and I thought I would invite myself to the discussion between Right Wing Sparkle and herself. Polite of me, eh?

Read more Parental Rights »

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My Strange Subconscious

I am tired and again had a morning of heavy dreaming. This time it was a novice luge type contraption, except it went up as opposed to sliding down. It was a great deal of fun, until I got to the top, was negotiating this convoluted return down, and some jerk swiped my luge.

My annoyance propelled me to awaken earlier than my body was prepared to accomodate. I don't like the slightly hung-over feeling of not getting enough sleep or awakening during REM.


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March 15, 2005

The Golden Days

Yesterday the girls built a tent and played in it most of the evening. I knew the request would be coming to sleep in it. I made one requirement necessary, and with some encouragement, follow through, and help, it was accomplished.

E put music on for the girls to sleep to and, surprisingly, they did. K found her way to our bed sometime in the night, and E found herself somewhere other than when she started her journey to The Sugar-Plum Tree. This morning the sound of their breathing accompanied my quiet clicking of the keys.

Today the tent has remained up and they have spent the majority of their morning in it. Their innocent reverie has been attended by George Winston's piano accompaniment to the audio of The Velveteen Rabbit.

As I pass through the room, I stop to savor the inculpable nescience. I breathe deeply, taking mental snapshots of a smile, record a voice telling me "what this says," and interpreting a masterpiece of crayon art. How I wish to have been able to have experienced such blamelessness. Already by the age of K, I knew too much and felt too sad. In these moments, I try hard to be thankful to God that I can now be a part of it, and to also be profoundly thankful that although my girls are guaranteed sorrows in this life, that I have not been the prepetrator of them.

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Questions for Alisha

1. Alisha, if there was a book title for your life, what would it be? You can create one or use one already out there :D

2. How did you and Naval Hubster meet?

3. Being the personality type that you are (almost the exact same as one of my best friends. she is an E), I know you like schedules and planning. What is the funniest "unplanned" thing that happened to you recently?

4. What is your favorite room in your home and why?

5. What is one of your dearest childhood memories?

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Julie Leung. She may not be new to you, but she is to me. And wow! What a woman and a writer.

Someone landed here by googling Caitlin Flanagan. Of course, I followed the link on my sitemeter. After scrolling through, I clicked on a cached link just below my own listed post to some well-written thoughts (excellent, though ours differ) on Flanagan.

I then went to the most recent entry and found more to like. Other than having a love of husband, home, children, life and literature, we also birthed our blogs at nearly the same time.

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Field of Dreams

I found this page when searching for the Gingham Dog and the Calico Cat the other day. I love Eugene Field.

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I rarely have flying dreams; in fact, I think I can only recall one. I do; however, frequently have dreams in which I am swimming for great lengths of time without having to surface for a breath. The water is always warm and I believe in the ocean.

Houses also come often into my subconscious. They always include a room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, hardwood floors, over-stuffed chairs, large windows, sunlight. This room is a repeated theme, as well as a kitchen. The kitchen varies, but recently I had one that was so lucid, I awakened pleasantly with plans to incorporate it into the home that R and I want to someday build.

Read more Consuming »

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March 14, 2005


My eyes feel like two burnt holes in a sheet, or as A says, "stewed tomatoes."

I am really so very tired......

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March 13, 2005

Link Whorage

Polemic, No More Maher, Spoken, and Submitted.

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More Sanctimony

Poor Maureen Dowd, she can't get any respect. So, if a woman is considered a castigating castrator in writing a piece critical of a man, then what is she when she writes a derisive one about another woman? Says Maureen, "This job has not come easily to me. But I have no doubt there are plenty of brilliant women who would bring grace and guts to our nation's op-ed pages, just as, Lawrence Summers notwithstanding, there are plenty of brilliant women out there who are great at math and science. We just need to find and nurture them."

How about we start by not ridiculing women for choosing conservative politics, deriding them for putting their intellect and education into rearing their own children, accusing them of subordination to men by actually liking their husbands, and not having reverse double standards in how women are allowed to treat and talk about men, but hold our own gender as the sacred cow.

And, Maureen, I'm available, but does that offer come with comp time, because I won't quit my day job. I won't afford to.

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Sanctimoniuous Motherhood

Caitlin Flanagan writing for The New Yorker? I might just have to start reading it again. There are plenty of women (read: über feminists) who don't like Caitlin Flanagan. Maybe her admonition for a woman to actually consider her husband a human being, keep house not just clean it, and to rear her own children rather than outsourcing it to someone whom they pay less attention and money than the family veterinarian, irritates them. No one tells today's woman how to live her life, especially a man, and especially not a woman who doesn't completely agree with the feminist manifesto (read: liberal democrats). I love it that an intelligent and gifted female writer has drawn the sword of wit to challenge the claim that a woman is obligated to no one but herself.

The first encounter I had with Flanagan's writing was "The Wifely Duty" in the January/February 2003 The Atlantic. I read the article between gasps of hysterical laughter and hearty shouts of "Amen!" R particularly enjoyed and agreed with the advice of marital therapist Michele Weiner Davis (author of The Sex-Starved Marriage) : "'that although you might not have been thinking sexual thoughts or feeling particularly sexy, if you push yourself to 'get started' when your spouse approaches you, it feels good, and you find yourself getting into it?'" Flanagan says, " Many of her (Davis') clients have received this counsel with enthusiasm. 'I really wasn't in the mood for sex at all,' reports one of her advisees after just such a night, 'but once we got started, it was fun. I really enjoyed it.'"

Can you believe that Flanagan was purporting that a woman have sex because her husband wants to? I mean the audacity to imply that a woman is bound to be considerate of anyone else save herself. However, let us recall that a man is a selfish dog if not at his wife's beck-and-call.

The submission her liberal colleagues felt to be the most inflammatory and the most irritating was "How Serfdom Saved the Women’s Movement " published in The Atlantic, March 2004. That particular article generated quite a few letters to the editor and further cemented the growing rage against Caitlin Flanagan as both a traitor to the advancement to her gender and to her profession. She was accused of hyprocrisy (she is a writer, is that not a profession?) and as being a walking dichotomy of moral and political values, eschewing the "popular" politics demanded of women by the Feminist Union. An interesting back-and-forth discussion occurs on Slate via "e-mails" between Sara Mosle, Barbara Ehrenreich, and Caitlin Flanagan concerning the points Flanagan makes in her article. Ironically, Mosle accuses Flanagan of a bait-and-switch, when she does the very thing in redirecting the argument toward corporate mistreatment of workers, rather than admit her associates capable of commiting such evil atrocities toward their servants. Professional women just don't do such things. Zoe Baird ring a bell?

In googling and following a labyrinth of blog links, I have found Caitlin Flanagan to have been called a "dumb c_ _ t," a veritable vacuum of ignorance, "moronic, smug and offensive, a " Clarence Thomas," and a journalistic bully in Ms. Magazine, "beating up on professional working moms." Ouch! Amazing the tolerance, the openness, the acceptance of those who have differing opinions. Maud Newton quoting a GMB, basically claims that Caitlin Flanagan isn't a real writer because a) she can't possibly be a mother and a wife and like it or she wouldn't be writing about it (now let's apply that to a woman who has children but chooses her work over her family: she must not really like her children or she wouldn't be seeking to be away from them for 40-60 hours a week. Mmmm, doesn't quite work, does it?), and b) because Flanagan is such a hypocrite she simply can't be recognized as the real deal.

I don't justify to anyone why I choose rear my own children. I don't need to. The reasons, the benefits, the challenges are obvious. It amazes me that I am thought less educated, less intelligent or a stumbling block to the progression of my gender because I choose to sacrifice 10 years of my career in order to rear my own children, or choose something that accommodates child-rearing rather than sacrificing my children for 10 years of career or forcing my infants and pre-schoolers to adjust to the mother's goals and self-seeking. There are certainly exceptions that dictate a woman, or a man seek childcare outside of the home, but this is not what drives the feminist drivel. These exceptions are claimed as the standard to justify selfhood.

While walking through The Grove in Los Angeles with one of the female producers of The Larry Elder Show, she told me that she felt compelled to continue her career when she has children because "so many women sacrificed and paved the way" for her to do so. "No," I reminded her. "They paved the way for you to have a choice and not to be indebted without thought and consideration for what is ultimately best."

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Rae at 03:39 PM | Comments (3) | Truthsayers
» King of Fools links with: Hear Ye! Hear Ye!
» Watcher of Weasels links with: Submitted for Your Approval
» Watcher of Weasels links with: The Council Has Spoken!

March 12, 2005

Questions for Cindy


Updated: Cindy's lyrical answers.

1. Do you ever have sudden and almost uncontrollable urges to frame a situation with words? How do you keep those thoughts until you are able to get them recorded?

2. You paint such lovely pictures with words, I am curious, do you have other creative outlets for your "vision?"

3. Which writers have moved you, inspired you, the most in your life?

4. You say on your profile that you are interested in incarnation. Tell me more.

5. If you could change one thing about Anne Lamott, what would it be? *

Read more Questions for Cindy »

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Sporty Girl

My little C has always taken herself so seriously. She is so passionate. Her eyes flash anger as quickly as they brighten with laughter. As a baby, she didn't give her glorious, illuminating smile away to just anyone. She was highly selective of whom she allowed to enter her world, but once someone was allowed in, she practially smothered with affection and fierce loyalty.

From a young age, C has demonstrated natural athletic ability, especially sports of the hand/eye coordination variety. She has also expressed an interest in being involved in recreational activities other than swim team, so she plays soccer in the fall and this year has added softball. Because she is so physical, people have, in all innocence and good intentions, called her a tomboy. This is a misnomer. C loves lacquered nails, high heels, purses, make-up, jewelry, elaborate and ornate girly things. She just also happens to not give a rip about her clothes and prefers jeans to chinos, denim skirts to dresses, and shorts to anything else. The easier the shoes come off, the happier she is. She cares not for dusty toes, dirty hands, and smudged cheeks. The fact that the seat of her cutoffs is coated with a mixture of grass stains, today's lunch, chalk dust, and something completely unidentifiable doesn't faze her a bit. The second time someone called her a tomboy, we got proactive and came up with something better: Sporty Girl.

Read more Sporty Girl »

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Andy's Questions

Five questions for Andy, because he bit.

1. So, Andy, what's up with the love of monkies? Do you also feel the same affinity for apes? If not, must be the tails....

2. Have you always been an atheist?

3. Fiona is such a lovely name. How did you and the wife come to choose it?

4. If you could go back and study something different in college, what would it be and why? Let's say you had pursued that angle, where would you be now and what would you be doing?

5. Your home is on fire. You can only take two things with you- Mrs. Andy and the Wee Fiona are safe- what do you take and what is the importance of each item to you?

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Rae at 01:58 PM | Comments (0) | Knights of the Table
» The World Wide Rant - v3.0 links with: Meme o'the Moment: Five Questions

March 11, 2005

Interview Me(me)

I forgot to extend an Interview Invitation to Five People from my participation earlier this week with Jon.

So, if you want to be interviewed by moi, comment here and I will prepare some questions for you and post them here.

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I know that those of

I know that those of the High Fidelity Music Snob Club don't particularly like Coldplay but I love their music. So there.

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March 10, 2005

She was a bookish girl

My internet pal, GrumpyBunny passed me this fun meme. Thanks, GB :D

You’re stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?
Shakespeare's Sonnets

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
Mr. Knightley, from Emma by Jane Austen. .

The last book you bought is:
The Once and Future King by T.H. White

The last book you read:
The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green by Joshua Braff

What are you currently reading?
The Once and Future King

Five books you would take to a deserted island.
The Wind in the Willows- to remind me of my children. A girl's gonna miss her babies.
Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, to help me see the benefit of being alone. A girl's gotta adjust.
The SAS Survival Handbook- a girl's gotta live.
A complete hymnal that includes worship/praise songs- I like both and a girl's gotta have something to sing and for more than entertainment.
The Shopaholic Series (they must count as one)- a girl's gotta laugh.

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?
Texasbug because I like what I read and want to know more.

Jo because she now has a blog. Kinda.

Alisha because I know she enjoys reading.

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Rae at 10:04 PM | Comments (3) | Household Fun
» Notes in the Key of Life links with: A fun quiz about books
» Pink Slip Central links with: Books, Books and More Books
» TexasBug links with: Bookworm

I've Got Rhythm

Slow on the blogging because this whole song and dance routine, literally, is taking it all out of me.

On the upside, I am getting plenty of exercise and enjoying the whole process. These theatre majors are so dramatic...heh.

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March 08, 2005


Someone from the Midwest (at least Central time) has been lingering longer on the blog.... about six hours worth today alone.

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London Broil, Baked Idaho Rose Potatoes, Steamed Broccoli and Hollandaise Sauce.

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A Firm Foundation

When I held my baby girl for the first time almost fourteen years ago, I made many promises to us. I guaranteed her that I wouldn't be anything like my own mother. Because, I mean, all those difficulties had to be inherently my mother's fault, right? Sure I was disrespectful on occasion, but didn't she provoke it by her lack of understanding and constant dismissal of me? Also, my girl would have her father, an honorable, principled man; something I lacked.

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The Breath Freshener

You are Spearmint.
You are quick-witted and sharp. You pay close
attention to details and you can tell what your
friends are feeling. You are always the first
to understand a joke and you are valued for
your insight and advice. However, you
sometimes isolate yourself from other people,
afraid to share your own feelings.
Most Compatible With: Cinnamon

Which Tic-Tac Flavor Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

h/t: Jon.

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March 07, 2005

Some Questions

1.Please describe for my readers the essence of mu-nuvia, and its importance to the greater blogosphere.

Mu-Nu is the best supported host site around.

2.You list Pink Lady Apples as a favorite food. Describe the taste sensation of this rare treat.

Simple: sweet, crisp, and a distinctly feminine name.

3.Compared to Rusty, Robbo and Steve (llama-butchers), you seem rather normal, as those are the only mu-nu vian blogs I read regularly, are you more the exception than the rule, or vice verse?

Ummm, I don't know. Are we at MuNu that exceptionally different in terms of normalcy? I really don't know.

4.What did you do to cause Glenn to cry? Did it involve saving a puppy from his nefarious grasp?

I joined The Alliance and created a quote. However, it would be my tremendously affective writing that would cause Ol' Glenn to cry. Or maybe the lack of quality in my writing....

5.Describe your favorite TV shows this season. If you don’t watch TV, tell us about a book that you’ve read and highly recommend.

Girl Meets God. Fabulous, lyrical writing of a Jewish girl who becomes a Protestant Christian. She sees such rich connection between the faiths, and finds such a self-depracting way to tell her story so the reader at once relates and yet, with her, desires to rise above the limitations our common humanity imposes on us. I laughed. I reflected. I wondered. Not many religious books are so beefy without overloading theology.

And, because I can never read just one, The Unthinkable Thoughts of Jacob Green, written by Joshua Braff. It is a hysterical and poignant coming-of-age story of a young boy who must come to terms with his temperamental and arbitrary father.

Thanks for the interview, Jon.

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These Dreams

Weird dreams last night. Weeeeeeeeiiiirrrrrdddd!

It took years for me to understand why I kept having certain recurring thematic dreams. Once I analyzed it, they stopped.

Now must figure this one out. I hate how strange dreams continue their haunting in the sun.

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Those interesting icons in the window when you go to someone's site....yeah, well, I would like to have one of those. I'd obviously choose the pink zinnia.

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March 05, 2005

So Sad

I had forgotten to retrieve the mail this afternoon. R walked down to get it while the girls and I stood in the kitchen and wolfed down some cold pizza. We attended the girls spring recital and having been in such a hurry to arrive on time, we neglected to eat something. Thus, we were standing in the kitchen having our dinner over the counter, chatting.

K, only four, walked to the front of the audience. She stood for a moment looking at the crowd. Then grinned and covered her mouth, still smiling wide. The people cooed and crowed. After introducing herself and her piece, she climbed onto the bench and played her song. Everyone clapped and giggled at her cuteness and she bowed deeply, grinned again, and walked back to me, waiting on the side. Of course, E, A, and C played perfectly, beautifully. They weren't bothered by their youngest sister's having upstaged them.

R entered, mail in hand. I immediately saw my April Lucky (with Amanda Peet on the cover- what a lovely woman), and the newsletter from our church back in Missouri. I left him to sort and sift while I perused the newsletter first. When I flipped to the back, I was suddenly and deeply saddened. A woman whom I deeply admired and whom had been a quiet mentor for me as a young mother and wife, died last week from cancer at 44.

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Something well-written always makes me hungry. Thanks, neighbor.

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A New and Modern Leviticus

I forsee an evening planned to go to a local bookstore to listen to a reading. Afterwards, I will chat with the author as if old friends, even having coffee and discussing our God, our faith, our children, our lives.

Cindy is a a woman whose eyes see beyond the physical where even a piece of lint can have a lyrical story behind it.

See what I mean? This perspective keeps a "stay-at-home" mother sane.

Thanks, Cindy.

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A New Jersey

Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me reveals that the NFL's attempts at being PC have been influenced by complaining bloggers.

You can now get your favorite NFL jersey personalized with the name "Gay" on the back.

Ahhh, the progress compelled by the 'Sphere.

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For the Children of the World

If throwing the Baby (The UN) out with the bathwater means the babies will be saved. I'm with J; open the door and toss....

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March 04, 2005

Cease and Desist

Virtual handshake accomplished by mutual agreement. Thanks, Bill.

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More than Chuck E.

I haven't met too many people who like Rickie Lee Jones, but I love her music- its eclectic style appeals to the places and parts of me that other music can't seem to reach.

Playing now: "It Must Be Love" from Magazine but playing from my Melancholy Mama list on iTunes.

Other songs on the list:
Wonderful, Annie Lennox
Honestly, Cary Brothers
The Scientist, Coldplay
In Your Eyes, Peter Gabriel
Downtown Lights, Annie Lennox
Forgiveness, Mason Jennings
Thin Line Betwee Love and Hate, Annie Lennox
Amsterdam, Coldplay
Almost Blue, Diana Krall
I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You, Colin Hay
Strange Religion, Mark Lanegan
If I Laugh, Cat Stevens
I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You, Tom Waits
Spinning, Zero 7

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Dental Report Card

Remind hygenist that skin and tongue are attached.

However, no cavities, and was complimented on the obvious care of my teeth. It pays to brush and floss.


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March 03, 2005

Grammar Cracker?

This was a fun test.

My Score:
You scored 86% Beginner, 93% Intermediate, 93% Advanced, and 72% Expert!
You have an extremely good understanding of beginner, intermediate, and advanced level commonly confused words, getting at least 75% of each of these three levels' questions correct. This is an exceptional score. Remember, these are commonly confused words, which means most people don't use them properly. You got an extremely respectable score.

h/t: Kim- new to my blog.

Looks like Robert the Llama took it and got busted, too.

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Rae at 10:46 PM | Comments (18) | It's ALL about me
» MisplacedKeys links with: Hmmm... me do English purdy well.
» Jeremy-Gilby-dot-com links with: A dyslexic who failed English in Highschool
» The World Wide Rant - v3.0 links with: Fear Me Not

Third Time's A Charm

Nothing like a little humiliation to get a girl to stop.

Thanks for the lesson on 'Sphere Protocol, Bill.

Here's a lesson from me, a lowly, yet "attractive blonde" begging, woman blogger: a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. I'll just to keep to my side of the tracks from now on.

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Movie Quote Madness

From the Llamas.

The First Five Movie/TV Quotes that come into your head (must be from different movies/shows).

1. "It's always Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!" - Jan, The Brady Bunch

2. "Constant talking isn't always communicating."- Joel Barrish, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

3. "Am I depressed because I listened to 80's music, or did I listen to 80's music because I was depressed?"- Rob Gordon, High Fidelity

4. "The truest friend does not doubt, but hope." -Mr. Knightley, Emma

5. The entire foot rub scene between Vincent and Jules in Pulp Fiction.

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Nothing like Jeans

Let's see, A Likely Sweet-Tee* + Sevens + these = a perfect Girl Friday. Of course, I own none of these items. Yet. (Shhhh, I get my Sevens from an outlet and pay a quarter of the department store price).

*image courtesy of the court Geek- Sir Gilby.**

**For your purchasing pleasure, as well :D

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Pretty in Pink

Alisha has a very new do. Go see. And I think we all know how I feel about pink. Awww, she's in love thanks to Moxie. :D

Man, I just keep looking at it, like a dress in a shop. It makes me want a new template.....Jeff? Mr. Bartender? Where art thou?

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Rae at 12:22 PM | Comments (1) | Home Improvements
» Pink Slip Central links with: Love love love my new digs!

March 02, 2005

Public Service Announcement

After some examination, I think myself not to be a rightwing Republican, but rather more of a moderate. My manifesto:

1)I am anti-abortion except in the case to save a woman's life (i.e.
ectopic pregnancy). I do not support therapeutic abortion or abortion
as a birth control method.

2)I do not support the death penalty. It is too costly, both in
ethical and monetary terms.

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Cast(e) System

Read this. Thoughts? Comment here.

I am continually impressed and challenged by Shawn's writing.

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Wide Angle Lens

A bit of a story that popped into my head this morning:

He didn't know why he stayed in this town. He loathed the sight of the same buildings, shelved like cereal boxes, generic ones with no specific color, only the necessary information displayed. However, on Fridays, the past six days came into focus. She always dropped off her film a little past 10. His cigarette smoked, coffee consumed, and a fresh mint melting away the stench of the two, he was made ready for her arrival. Small talk and still observations were all that were exchanged. He knew her preferences: single prints only. The shots were unusual but the composition distinct, unique. The "R" in a Ramada Inn sign; a manhole cover; a stack of books, titles indiscernible; the wrinkled, round mouth of an elderly woman. He knew her full name, address and phone number backwards, but always handed the form over to her, fearful of making her uncomfortable with automatically filling it out himself. He wondered if she even noticed him, if she could place her finger on the way he smelled or any of his habits, speech pattern, anything that distinguished him. Was he ever mentioned in passing to a friend, even in association with the store, or was her Friday encounter with him never anticipated, fretted over, rehearsed, done only as the next item on the list, casually crossed off and forgotten until next weeks agenda was set.

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Fun Coincidence

I open my e-mail today and find the iTunes New Music Tuesday info and Jack Johnson is one of the featured artists. I just heard him for the first time last night. College students run the dollar theater and when we arrived for the late show, we entered to this great music playing. I asked the kid behind the register who it was and he gladly told me all about the surfer who produced his own music. I wrote the name down and made mental note to look into downloading some of his work (Brushfire Fairytales was the recommend of the three albums).

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March 01, 2005

Pink Moon

The fleeting moments of satisfaction- no, of great blessedness- came suddenly upon me this morning. C and K were unloading the dishwasher. Wait, they were arguing with one another about unloading the dishwasher (not arbitrary either, expected every morning). I came upstairs to lay down the law, but found instead that maybe I needed to lay down some soul. I slipped in Nick Drake and told them that Uncle Nick loves this CD and that his dog is even named after him. A small, slight grin slipped from the corner of C's mouth. A big one emerged from my own. Mission accomplished vicariously through my brother.

It reminded me when Nick was small and we would use reverse psychology to get him to finish his meals, drink his milk, clean-up toys, etc. "You're too small to get that done, " we would say. His face would explode with laughter and giggles and he would insist he was going to do it anyway. Five minutes later, we were done. This memory came suddenly, quickly and then lead me into another. Not a memory, but an anticipation. An exchange of vows- ceremonial, and sacred. Promises that are steps to being called into account for you life. Words given to be a witness that your life existed beyond your work and morning commute. An agreement that no longer will your pain and joy be only your own, but will be shared and born together, not in perfect happiness, sometimes with tremendous and exhausting effort, but in the name of love and reciprocal validation of your presence here.

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