A little something for your amusement

I've been all kinds of philosophical the last few days (weeks?).

As I'm leaving for NYC this morning, I thought I'd leave you with a little something that makes my heart beat quicker, my face light up with a smile I can barely contain, and my guard drop to never before seen levels.

Seriously. Is she not just freakin' adorable! The last one was from a series of pictures I took of her where she was sure I was playing peek-a-boo and she kept trying to find Aunt Faith behind the camera.

I love her.

I may post from New York. You never know.

Hearing voices

I read a couple of blogs of people in recovery. It helps me to feel not so alone out here. Struggling with the voice of an eating disorder is a minute by minute struggle. And one that I'm getting a lot better at fighting. One of the bloggers I read gave such an outstanding description of what having an eating disorder in your head is like.

For those of you who aren't going to read her whole post (which, by the way, is well worth reading) she compares it to wearing a set of big heavy headphones like the ones that air traffic controllers use and having Steven Tyler yelling at you. OK, she's far more eloquent.

My point is, it's an accurate metaphor. I hear things (which my bulimia tells me) that are destructive, manipulative, and downright false.

Up until about a year ago, one of those things was that this was a little secret between just us. Me and my bulimia. No one else needs to know. After all, if other people know, they'll say it's stupid, that I'm too old for such a juvenile disease, that I know better. They'll tell me to stop it. And frankly, I needed it. It was my friend, my coping mechanism, my confidante, my last resort. I couldn't bear having it taken away from me.

Now that I've told, there is my bulimia, yelling at me that I've ruined everything. I've told our secret. I've broken our bond. I'm a traitor. Then there's the recovering me who is whispering "good for you." but so quietly, I can barely hear it. Sometimes it's so quiet I think I might be imagining it.

So what do I do to help me hear the recovering voice? A number of things.

1. I read other recovery blogs. These people are often going through the same shit I am and it's helpful to read their struggles.
2. I attend a support group.
3. I also see an eating disorders specialist.
4. I try very hard to stay in this moment. Right now. Not tomorrow, not yesterday.

The blogs, support group and therapist all serve the purpose of calling me out when I've got some distorted thinking going on and when I'm being reasonable. Sometimes it's hard for me to tell.

Here are some of the blogs I read, just FYI:

ED Bites
Hungry 4 Hunger - this guy has big brass ones.
ED Survivor's Club
Recovery Rodeo

We're all looking for the switch to finally make that change. I haven't found all of the switches yet, but I can tell you there's more than just one.

And that's something I didn't know a year ago. Oddly, it's kind of comforting.

Fences, continued

Beth is right. I didn't discuss boundaries when it comes to people with whom I actually have familial relations.

I am told that it takes baby steps.

I have, however set up some boundaries with those I am related to because boundaries in my famiglia are...well, what boundaries? So if I hadn't set up some little fences around my life, my family would be sleeping in my non-extant guest room and I would be...really, you don't even want to know.

Here are some of the boundaries I have set up with those people that I am related to:

1. I cannot be reached at work. Seriously. I do not care who you saw at the Soupplantation at lunch. If a relative is calling me at work, someone had better be dying and it better be the sister calling me to tell me that this someone is dying. By dying I am referring to things like head on car crashes with airbag deployment - not, fender bender with crying. This someone had better be blood related to me. FYI, your receptionist's mother is not related to me.

2. I do not have a guest bedroom. Yes we have two "extra" rooms. No, they are not guest rooms. End of story. This is not a negotiation.

3. I do not have a medical degree. Despite working in a clinic I cannot diagnose a dislocated shoulder, a prolapsed uterus, shingles or an allergic reaction to Darvoset. Go to the doctor.

4. I am not going to sit by while someone turns purple with rage at some perceived slight. I will get in my car and drive away. I will not come back until next time. If it happens again, I will leave again. I will keep leaving until lessons are learned. Or not. In which case, I will just keep leaving.

These are some of the boundaries I have created in my life. There are other things that I have not quite managed. I am not perfect. Seriously - but I am trying to be better.

I am working on the stuff around my weight, food and body image which is a major topic of conversation in my family. Last gathering I hemmed and hawed when asked (multiple times) what I've "been doing." I haven't quite figured out how to let them know that this is off limits without getting into a discussion of why it is off limits and why I have so many rules that no one else in my family seems to have.

After all, discussing what we've eaten, what we're eating, what we're going to eat and how much weight we (or other people) have gained or lost is a major topic of conversation in my family. I'm afraid they won't know what else to talk about. Although the awkward silence might be amusing for a moment or two, I'm pretty sure the silence after a nuclear holocaust would pale in comparison.

So thanks Beth for the prompt. It's hideous to start trying to be the mistress of boundaries at 36, but I'm working on it.

If good fences make good neighbors...

A couple of days ago, I posted about my ink, but I noticed (because I’m an obsessive count checker) that a lot of people clicked on the “tear toilet paper” link.

I want to explain.

In Judaism there is something called a gezeirah, which is like a fence. It is a little fence around a law so that you don’t actually break a commandment. So, for instance, during Passover, you cannot eat matzah that might have been touched by water because it might rise and you might eat leavened bread which would be breaking a commandment.

The same thing goes for the toilet paper. Tearing toilet paper is not, in itself, work. It is however, something that is attached that you would detach thereby “making something”. While no part of the Torah ever deals with toilet paper and the tearing of such, this is one of those little fences, however inane it may be.

While these examples may not be the best, creating little fences around ourselves is important and I am learning how to build little fences better every day.

It appears that people with eating disorders have boundary issues. In fact, boundary issues are overwhelmingly the number one indicator of an eating disorder. It appears that most people with an eating disorder, whether binge eating disorder (BED), anorexia or bulimia experienced, “relentless boundary invasion” sometime in their childhood (tell me about your mutter).

So, it seems that rather than create any sort of confrontation with anyone, I have a tendency to say "yes." After all, it only hurts me and I know how I'll react but I don't know how anyone else will react and that is too scary so..."sure I'll help you carry your sleeper sofa up three flights of stairs!" or I'm fine sitting here eating my hair rather than telling you that I am very uncomfortable with you yelling at our waiter.

Boundaries - they're what's for dinner!

Michael, otherwise known as Boundary Man (ewww. Let's call him Boundary Guy for the sake of abbreviation), is my role model in this whole fence building thing.

I used to think he was crazy when he said things like, "If you don't want to go to your mother's house for dinner, just don't go."

My response would be a wimpering, "You don't understaaaaand. I have to go."

But as Boundary Girl, I realize that I am a 36 year old woman who gets her own paycheck and has for 17 years and frankly I don't owe anybody anything. If I don't want to go to dinner, I don't have to. I am Boundary Girl!

Seriously, this is a really new concept for me.

"I think we should have a team at the annual walk-a-thon. Do you want to take that on?"
Before BG - I say, "Sure! No problem!"

After BG - I say, "I'll do a lot of things, but I've done my share of walk-a-thons and I really can't do another one."

Complete stranger at Canter's Deli "You have such a pretty face! You should lose some weight."
Before BG - I say, "Ummmm.........................." Then go throw up.

After BG - "You should mind your own damn business lady!"

It's really hard to create boundaries. I'm afraid of hurting someone's feelings, making them feel bad. I realized though that not creating boundaries (and enforcing them) makes me not want to pick up my phone, answer email or participate in any normal social interactions because I feel raw and vulnerable. Like anyone can do with me whatever they will. Then I start feeling resentful and in the end, everybody gets screwed.

Whereas, when I do create boundaries, I feel like I stood up for myself. I feel like I'm the most important person to me. I don't feel guilty later because I have eight hundred thousand voicemails to return and I can get out of bed without worrying that someone is going to ask me to do something I don't want to do.

What a concept.

(some information from: Joanna Poppink, MFT)

Inkslingers m'sibah*

I am a big tattooed freak (at least that’s what my husband calls me).

I love it.

I thought about getting inked years before I actually did. I knew exactly what I wanted, I just didn’t know where to have this piece of art permanently installed.

I finally got my tattoo sometime in October of 2000. It was the year I got married and the year I turned 30.

Being tattooed had all kinds of unpredictable benefits in my life. One of which is that I love the skin that was tattooed. That may seem like an odd statement, but I'm not a big huge fan of my body. The area of my body that I've had tattooed is artwork that I've deliberately chosen and I think it's beautiful. I am currently working on a full back piece.

I am learning to love my back...I know, I'm a freak.

One of the most consistent themes after getting my first tattoo was people telling me that I could no longer be buried in a Jewish cemetery.

Once and for all, I am going to disabuse you of this myth (yeth?).

First. I never had any intention of being buried in a Jewish cemetery. Michael knows where my ashes are going and if I die first, he’s going to get them there.

Second.There is no prohibition on someone who is tattooed being buried in a Jewish cemetery.

Ultimately, you could be covered in a body suit of tattoos and still be buried in a Jewish cemetery. There is actually nothing that could prevent a Jew from being buried in a Jewish cemetery!

There are a few restrictions, which may have your carcass being dropped into a different section from the “truly righteous”.

One of these things is suicide, but even there we have our major loopholes. If one is mentally ill, one can still be buried in the main section.

How do you prove a dead person was not mentally ill before he or she committed suicide? I would like to see the posek that tries to tell the family of a suicide victim that he/she was not mentally ill.

The major point is that we do not know if a person has repented before death. If she/he did repent, she/he is a righteous person and should be buried along with the righteous. Tattoos or no. In the case of suicide, the rabbis say that we do not know if the person repented after attempting suicide and was unable to turn back. Therefore, they should be buried with the rest of the righteous.

Frankly, there would be very few people buried in the righteous section of the Jewish cemetery if only the perfect were allowed admittance.

So where does this old wives’ tale come from?

Leviticus 19:27-28 prohibits 4 different acts of mourning. These are:
1) Making a bald spot on the head as an act of mourning
2) Shaving the beard as an act of mourning
3) Cutting the skin as an act of mourning
4) Writing on the skin as an act of mourning

The text is as follows:“You shall not cut the hair on the sides of your heads, neither shall you clip off the edge of your beard.You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh for the dead, nor tattoo any marks on you. I am God.”

This is where we get our biblical prohibition against tattoos. Interestingly, the inscribing of tattoos as an act of mourning is the most elusive in the list. It is only mentioned once in Lev. 19:28 and then never discussed again.

Professor Aaron Demsky of Bar-Ilan University, in an article in the 100 lb., $1,800 Encyclopaedia Judaica, goes even further to suggest that tattooing may have been permitted in biblical times. He cites the following biblical references: "One shall say, 'I am the Lord's,' and another shall use the name of Jacob, and another shall mark his arm 'of the Lord' and adopt the name of Israel" (Isaiah 44:5), "See, I have engraved You on the palms of my hands…" (Isaiah 49:16), and " ...is a sign on every man's hand that all men may know His doings" (Job 37:7).

Dr. Demsky suggests that tattooing was sanctioned as long as the tattoos did not brand you for another god.

Today, however, being tattooed voluntarily, according to those who write the rules, is a violation of the commandments.

A lot of things violate commandments. This one happens to be visible.

No one knows if I just had shrimp cocktail or if I tear toilet paper on the Sabbath or if I swear needlessly (which I do) or if I have drunk the wine of idolators (which I probably have but really, have you checked the backgrounds of the Gallos recently?) or if I have cursed our ruler (I HAVE!). These are far less demonstrable violations.

Personally, I think it is something that Jewish mothers tell their children so that they won't get inked and it's just been passed down as fact like some Jewish version of the kidney thieves.

*m'sibah - party or ball

Write, dammit!

I've been talking a lot about writing. I've also been writing a lot.

Ariel Gore, authoress of the Hip Mama Survival Guide is also the author of How to Become A Famous Writer Before You're Dead which is the best book about writing that I've seen recently.

It's written in my language. She uses the word "fuck" a lot. Which I respect in a writer.

In it, Ms. Gore starts off by saying that A Room of One's Own is fabulous, but you don't necessarily need it to become a writer.

I joined a writing group a couple of months ago that met this weekend.

I shared that I have been writing - a lot. One of the other members asked me how. How do I find time to write? I'll tell you what I told her. It's going to be different for all of us.

I am pathologically punctual. If I need to be somewhere at 10, I'll be sure to be there by 9:30. It's an illness. I spend a lot of time in waiting rooms or sitting in my car waiting for my appointments. This is where I write. I take my journal everywhere, which may not be the smartest thing ever but, nevertheless, I have a compunction to write. And write I do.

I write stories, I write notes, I write complete nonsense. Usually, after I get out of my support group, I pull over to the side of the road at least twice on the way home to write down things that I think about - which, by the way, is a lot safer than trying to write in traffic.

Trust me on this one.

Some people get up a half-hour before their kids to write. Some people write during their lunch hour. Some people write drunk at midnight but they write.

One of the most helpful things in the book so far is, if "Write a novel" is last on your list of things to do, you'll never get to it. We never get to the last thing on our lists of things to do because the kids need feeding and the laundry needs doing and I'm sure the side yard needs weeding and I need a new pair of gym shoes....and the novel never gets written.

Ariel Gore is funny and she is a hard-hitter. At one point she calls those of us who are writers in our own minds but actually never put words to paper, horrible names.

But we can take it, because she's right.

FYI - No panty throwing occurred

But damn if I didn't want to. As I mentioned in a previous post, I have a huge geek crush on Stephen Lewis, Canadian extraordinaire and former UN Special Envoy for HIV/AIDS to Africa who came to UCLA to speak on Friday. I have read many of his speeches. I have never seen him in person.

OH MY GOD!!!! He's amazing. He's passionate. He's an awesome orator. I'm just infatuated by his big ol' brain. He spoke for a good 40 minutes and I never looked away. I might not have blinked.

Here's a few quotes,

"Driving the epidemic is a predatory sense of male entitlement leading to levels of sexual violence that are hallucinatory."

"The single most important struggle is the struggle for gender equality."

You know I led the standing O. I shook his hand. I feel like Marsha Brady.

He is a worthy and ethical and incredible man. He should win the Nobel Peace Prize.

Want your child to have an eating disorder? Ask me how!

Paris Hilton, on her way to the hoosegow and Nicole Richie, who apparently needed IV fluids while filming are doing a stint as camp counselors on The Simple Life beginning May 28th on E!.

Every moral fiber of my being is screaming that this is not entertainment but child abuse. Here I come to find that not only are they going to be leading activities for the little campers but some of those kids will be part of, as Paris has described it, "a fat camp".

Now, the camp has said, unequivocally it is not a "fat camp", rather, it is a fitness and weight loss camp. All I know is that if the activities of the camp include exercise classes, monitored nutrition and weigh ins, there might be some semantics we can heave about but we all know what it is.

So here we have kids, I'm gonna assume somewhere around puberty.

They're not in the best shape.

They may have been bribed to go to this "fitness camp" by parents concerned about their lack of physical activity.

Perhaps they were teased at school and desperately want to go back in September looking like Josh Hartnett or...um...Paris Hilton.

Send in the clowns.

Here is Nicole, passing out of starvation assisting CHILDREN (!!!!!!!!) to deal with their body image and fitness. No. I don't think she's a role model. No.

I do think she, a wealthy, popular figure who has been in recovery for anorexia nervosa and hasn't quite made it to the other side yet, will share an unintended message with these kids. Your fat is ugly - hate your body the way it is. Being thin is wonderful - be thin and be popular and famous.

Or maybe it's just transference. That's the message I got.

It's already been filmed and is in the can so there is no amount of calling of studio execs that is going to undo this mess. I desperately hope that Ms. Richie and Ms. Hilton, not to mention E! and Bunim/Murray have their liability waivers in hand.

Additionally, every parent who signed a waiver should have to attend parenting classes. Particularly classes on parenting your eating disordered child. Get the Renfrew sign-ups ready, there's a whole new pack of enlistees.

Oh no they didn't.

Here I am at "That is so queer-ville" feelin' all smug in my, "those Christians and their silly abstinence programs."

Little did I know, the Orthodox Union was just about to drag my ass through the schmutz with this one.

Great.

The OU has just debuted their too cool for Hebrew school site negiah.org (negiah is the restriction against physical touch with the opposite sex).

Billed as "The first abstinence site for Jewish teens" (oh great, can we expect more?) it is as packed full of lies and distortions as any of the Christian sites. For instance, condoms are ineffective. Then why not go on the pill? Because of the hideous and deforming side effects!

"These include migraines, gall bladder disease, increased blood pressure and liver tumors. Worst of all are the increased chance of blood clots, heart attacks and strokes."

Sure, these are all on the label but you don't see Rabbi Herschel stopping his heartburn medication because it causes rectal hemorrhaging or toxic epidermal necrolysis in less than 1% of users, now do you? How about taking mom off of those nasty anti-Alzheimer's meds. I mean, in less than 1% of patients there was retinal detachment and cerebral hemorrhage!

Putting forth the same arguments and massive sweeping generalizations that the Christian sites are promoting, they talk all about the horrors of sex. AIDS, date rape, guilt, regret, not to mention, having your soul cut off (kareis) which they describe as possibly meaning you "die prematurely or childless" (!) and suicide (!) are all things you can expect if you pop your cherry before you toivel in the mikveh.

Now, the bible is full to the rafters of rape, polygyny, incest and sex out of wedlock. Do we teach this? Only when it serves our purposes.

But when Lot offers his daughters for a big gang rape to the men of Sodom is he punished or is he praised for protecting the strangers in his midst? Why do we not teach this story?

Are we to believe that Shira and Yossi kissing in the woods at Camp Ramah are going to suddenly get HPV, drink until they pass out, go on welfare, and then commit suicide?

What would be ideal - and this is directed at anyone from the Orthodox Union who is Googling this (in my wildest dreams) - is not to follow this path of misrepresentation and keeping up with the Christians.

Rather, continue real sex education for Jewish kids. Negiah and taharat hamishpacha has always been important to Orthodox Jews. Teach it and remember, your children are intelligent. Describing the..

"genital discharge and a burning sensation when urinating (Sounds like fun, huh? Sexy, too!)"

of an STD is not going to stop kids from having sex. Honest, careful parenting won't even prevent some kids from tossing family or community rules off the cliff of teenage angst. Regret and mistakes are a part of being a teenager. It just is.

When they will find out that in response to their natural curiosity and hormones, you are offering them distortions, exaggerations and lies, you will lose them.

Minhag Monday.

Last week, Laurel Snyder at Jewcy wrote an article that goes directly to the identity predicament I’ve been feeling lately with regard to being a full-on, unashamed atheist while managing to somehow hang on to some of the meaningful traditions associated with being a Jewess. She is debating whether to have an upsherin ceremony for her son despite her reluctance to commit to beginning Torah study at three years old, as per tradition.

She writes:

“But mostly... I just didn't want to be a poser.

Now, before you laugh at me, I want you to think about this... because I'm not sure it's totally stupid.

What does it "mean" to borrow cultural trimmings without fulling participating in the strict observance or community behind them? I would never intentionally appropriate something like that from another religion, would you?”

When my niece was born, this issue blindsided me. I suddenly wanted her to have the experience of going to a Shabbaton, singing zum gali on a burning hot summer day at Camp Tinokim, learning about tikkun olam, making hamentaschen and smelling the spices at havdalah. These are deeply ingrained in me and provided me with a sense of stability in my somewhat unstable childhood. The fact that it was all in praise of Baruch atah adonai…I came to realize sometime in my 20’s that that part wasn’t going to work for me and so, for the most part, I left my Judaism behind.

I wouldn’t think about jumping a broom at my wedding or making the sign of the cross. These things are not part of my tradition. But then, those things that are part of my tradition are saddled with meanings that I am somewhat uncomfortable with or completely repulsed by.

I want to retain some of the cultural treasures that Judaism offers, but I am struggling to do so within my atheist soul.

The Catholic community is all up in arms about people picking and choosing what parts of Catholicism they follow and what parts they don’t. They are calling it cafeteria Catholicism. There is a movement against cafeteria Catholicism as the Pope decides on interpretations based on what God wants and Catholics do not get to practice only the parts that appeal to them. Period.

In Judaism, I was taught, you must ask questions. Jews have an ancient tradition of hacking it out among scholars (albeit all men) debating long into the night over a halachic ruling. The cafeteria issue doesn’t apply as even in Orthodox Judaism a posek on Fairfax can disagree with another on Riverside and Moishe in WeHo is as kosher as Shmueli in Valley Village. The delineations just within the fundamentalist wedge of Judaism of Modern Orthodox, Satmar, Chabad, etc. who, for the most part get along just fine even with different rulings (although here we are talking about the splitting of the finest of hairs and the measuring of millimeters of skirt hem). Then, within the Conservative, Conservadox, Reform and Reconstructionist denominations, there are broader gaps between what is practiced and what traditions are discarded.

Then there are the lines between what is a commandment (mitzvah) and what is tradition (minhag).

As a secular/atheist Jew, I do sometimes feel like a bit of a poser taking on some of, what is rightfully, my tradition.

About seven babies were born this year to friends and family. I made many of them blankets. It occurred to me each time that one tradition Jews have is to put a red thread in or on the blanket. If it were only so simple. The thread is so that Lilith, first wife of Adam before Eve, will not take the child’s soul. Yeesh. So, I didn’t add a red thread, but I thought about it every time I made a blanket. Somehow, redefining the red thread to mean something new seemed really poser-ish.

Some of the traditions make sense though.

Giving to charity in a proscribed way so that it is anonymous or giving to a poor complete stranger, gifts that they can actually use by going up to them and giving it to them - these are incredibly positive traditions that have been maintained for thousands of years because they are set down. You don't get to just give money to a charity all the time to make yourself feel better. You actually have to find someone in real need and know that person and hand them something that is a necessity of life.

I'm still working this out. I imagine it will take time. In the meantime, I guess I'll just have to do what seems right at the time - or my new motto, better to ask forgiveness than permission.

By the way - how weird is it that Wikipedia always has the most concise definitions of Jewish terminology???

Carnival of the Liberals #38

While the hills around me burn and it looks as if the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse might ride from the billowing smoke....I bring you Carnival of the Liberals #38

The freak show will now begin. It's heavily slanted toward the tragic circus that is the aftermath of the Virginia Tech shooting but it's profound stuff and gets a little deeper into the background than CNN or the other news networks.

Then we'll lighten it up. I promise.

To begin..........

He's black!
He's gay!
He's a Buddhist!
He's a dad!
He's the reason journalists are afraid of bloggers with press passes...
It's Republic of T! where Terrance makes the connection between school shootings and fag-baiting. Deep within each of these school shooters is a kid who needed to prove that he wasn't queer and outside of them is a bunch of other 15 year old assholes who seem to think that calling a kid "faggot" is kewl.

In the next tent, Terrance liberally quotes Michael Kimmel's article on Masculinity as Homophobia and makes the connection between the entitlement felt in being a white, heterosexual male and how the privileges ain't what they used to be.

In the third of this trinity, Terrance tells it like it is. It is that a lot of our boys are hearing the message that they are expected to "take it like a man." And men don't take it (get fucked) or else they're pussies, faggots, girls. Nevermind that everyone has their limits. Conservatives are bemoaning the "wussification" of America while their sons are picking up Glocks and proving their masculinity.

All in all, it seems like the females in this tent are being...screwed.

Then, The Richmond Democrat makes it easy for me with a beautiful segue. TRD shows graphically that Neal Boortz is not just a boor but a complete and perfected asshole (no offense to actual ass holes), believing the aforementioned wussification of Americans prevented students and professors at Virginia Tech from knowing how to defend themselves against the shooter. Neal. Dude. Between us. I'm not saying you have to be a big bleeding hearted liberal but compassion...look it up in the dictionary.

And since were going down this road, Little Miss Know it All at Truth in Politics sums it all up. We're looking for someone to blame it on and folks, it ain't gonna be as easy as a quick nip/tuck.

Now for a little fun. Come inside and see what freaks of nature lie in wait...

Ahh. See Barry at Staring at Empty Pages. You have never seen the likes of him! He is wild! If you aren't careful he will scare the horses! Protect your children as he parses Terry Gross' interview with George Tenet on NPR. Shield your eyes as he reminds us that Tenet is not the Joe Briefcase he is making himself out to be.

Over on this side of the ring is the Greenbelt. He is indeed freakish as he thinks Wolf Blitzer maybe should not have let Secretary Rice get away with dodging questions about Iraq. Also, maybe he shouldn't have laughed when she plugged a book she has yet to write.

Now ladies and fellas come right up close here for a look as thinkbridge shares the Top 10 Lies about Liberals. A few of them touch on how "soft" we are (see faggots, pussification above).

You'll have to see it to believe it, but apparently Karl Rove is an Atheist and Atheist Revolution shows it all! I'm not sure, but this may just be the freak we don't want to see.

Finally, don't leave the carnival until you check out this anatomical wonder! First Zombie, Laura Bush, tells Ann Curry that "no one suffers more than their president and I do when we watch (coverage of Iraq)." You'll be amazed as Mad Kane brings us sweet song stylings in her Serenade for the First Sufferers.

Thank you for showing up. I'm honored to have you in my humble (and thoroughly wussified) abode.

The next Carnival of the Liberals is hosted by Bora at A Blog around the Clock on May 23. Submit!

Now, back to your regularly scheduled fire watch. (Photos courtesy of the Los Angeles Times)

Step right up!

As a prelim for tomorrow's Carnival of the Liberals hosted at this humble blog, I bring you a little fun (scary and creepy though it may be):

I've posted about purity rings and the creepy and slightly incestuous abstinence balls, Laurie has even posted about having been asked to sign her very own coochie over to the Lord.

This stuff is crying - nay, screaming bloody murder for satire. There are some clever liberal artists out there who have put me to shame. Oh, if only I could be this imaginative.

An old favorite - she's been around since forever and she's damn near a juggernaut. If you don't know her already, go visit Mrs. Betty Bowers - after all, she is America's best Christian and the epistle of shameless schadenfreude. She's so close to Jesus, they're thinking about taking separate vacations this year.

Then, relatively new to the scene is Sex is for Fags and it's sister site Iron Hymen. Making me laugh out loud for hours.

Muffy writes that: "OHMIGOD, like, Iron Hymen taught me to respect myself way too much to ever let some hairy creep hock man-lugies on my Godly cervix like it's some gross subway platform!"

Then, sponsored by DIEBOLD and God himself - The WhiteHouse. Where Christian kids can find out, "Does Jesus watch me go poopy?" and Laura Bush explains "pseudoscientific flapdoodle" like stem cell research.

It makes me laugh, it makes me cry. It makes me want to buy out the gift shop.
I'm just not this lucid or there aren't enough daylight hours for me to be this clever. But I'm glad someone is!

From the ridiculous to the sublime

I've been promising it for months now. Finally, here is the recipe, with pictures, of my very famous and well loved Chili Egg Souffle. It is a happy homemakers dream recipe for brunch.

Here's the recipe. First off, nothing needs to be accurate. Short an egg? No problem. Put two more eggs than necessary in? No problem. Have no idea how to measure that much grated cheese? No problem. Put some in, then a little more.

Here it is:

Beat 10 eggs until light lemon color. (I usually do a dozen so I don't have any left over)
Then dump in:

• 1/2 cup of flour
• 1 teaspoon of baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 pint (or 16 ounces) cottage cheese
• 1 pound of shredded jack or cheddar or a combination of both
• 8 ounces (or so) of diced green chilis
• somewhere between 1/4 and 1/2 cup of melted butter (the original recipe calls for 1/2 cup but I usually just do 1/4

Blend all of that together and pour into a 9 x 13 pyrex dish.




Bake at 350 for 35 minutes or until top is brown. Cut into squares and serve.

This recipe goes exceedingly well with mimosas and bagels. To double the recipe, just double everything.

It also freezes very well - just pop a square into the microwave for a couple of seconds.

Minor meltdown

I’ve had a rough week. Monday was weird – to say the least. I got sideswiped on Pico (AGAIN!), I came in to find my therapy journal in the hands of someone else. Then after having an emergency therapy session in which I had a minor meltdown, I went and got tattooed which brings up all kinds of body image issues for me. My week has been reflected in that miasma of issues.

Under stress, my old habits start poking their noses out and trying to see what’s up.

"Hmm…maybe you don’t need to eat that…?"

"Maybe you would feel better about yourself if you threw up dinner."

"Maybe you should limit your calories to 1,300 a day or 1,100 – just to be safe."

"Maybe you’re a total whiner and people have bigger problems than this and you should just get over yourself and do something useful for a change?"

Welcome to my eating disorder. She's a mean, mutherfuckin' bitch.

Carnival of the Liberals Announcement

Calling all of you bleeding-hearters, tax-n’-spenders, unwashed hippies, pot-smokin’, limousine-riding, immigrant hugging, Clinton-lovin’ freaks out there. It’s time for another CARNIVAL OF THE LIBERALS!!!

The Carnival of the Liberals has come to That is so queer... for the 38^th edition. Great, a queer Jewess living in Los Angeles. Figures.

Anyway, search yourselves for the best and brightest writings your sexy, ingenious, open-minded brains can manage. If there ever was a time for the freak show that is liberal outrage -- seriously folks, it’s right about now.

Submit your entries here by Monday, May 7^th at 11:59 p.m.

Then I, the ringmistress, get to choose the 10 best out of all of your entries.

Control. Mmmmm.

Delicious.

A little writers block-y + GEEK CRUSH!

I like how everything can be turned descriptive with a "y" attached.

I have a bunch of upcoming posts but they need pictures and I somehow haven't managed to have the thought, "Download Pictures" while at the same time being near to my laptop. Therefore, no meaningful posts.

I will say, however that I just found out that Stephen Lewis, former Special Envoy for HIV/AIDS in Africa, is coming to speak at UCLA (omg omg omg!!!).

I've already posted about Mr. Lewis in this post about PEPFAR and this post when he threatened to take the International Narcotics Control Board “behind the international woodshed and give them an intellectual and rhetorical flogging, the like of which they would never forget," (giggle) for discrediting methadone maintenance and needle exchange programs."

Clearly, I kinda have a thing for this guy.

He has been described as relentless, pugnacious, passionate and he called the PEPFAR earmark for abstinence programming "incipient neocolonialism".

I might have to be restrained. I totally want to throw my panties at him.






Update: This picture makes me a little tingly (and embarrassed).