Gay pride

I'm still uploading some pictures from this weekend's activities, but in the meantime, in honor of Gay Pride week, I'll offer a picture of one of this week's Threadless t-shirt designs, called, appropriately "Gay Pride."

Alphabet

I got this from my brother-in-law, and thought I'd pass my own along.

[A] - AVAILABLE?
Um, sorry. I have to wash my hair that night.

[B] - BIRTHDAY?
My favorite suit. I try to wear it as often as possible.

[C] - CRUSHING?
Only during the grape harvest when I'm working at a Tuscan vineyard. And my feet and legs are stained purple for several weeks. I hate staining my clothes, though. (See [B] above.)

[D] - DRINK YOU LAST HAD?
Diet Coke. (If it were anything else, anyone who knew me would know I didn't write this.)

[E] - EASIEST PERSON TO TALK TO?
Mergatroid. I can't see him, but I can hear his voice in my head. We can talk for hours and hours. My psychiatrist gave me some meds once, but that made Mergatroid go away, so I stoped taking them. Now he's back and crazier than ever. What a character!

[F] - FAVORITE COLOR?
Pantone 178: The color of fresh salmon just pulled from the cold, clear waters of an Idaho river. Or the color of a surgical sponge used to soak up debris from a botched colonoscopy. Take your pick.

[G] - GUMMY BEARS OR GUMMY WORMS?
Gummy worms, of course. I don't believe in eating mammal-like candies.

[H] - HOMETOWN?
The Nez Perce Indian Reservation... yes, an INDIAN reservation. And I lived in a tepee for a few months one time. I totally represent, even though I decided to cut my braids after I started losing my hair because I didn't want that most pathetic of all the mullets: the skullet.

[I] - ILL?
Uh huh. Which is why I actually have time to write this. I'm sure it's nothing serious. (Coughing up blood isn't a bad sign, is it?)

[J] - JUGGLE?
Just when I jump up and down really fast... oh, that says JUGGLE. Um, nope.

[K] - KILLED SOMEONE?
I'm dead inside. Does that count?

[L] - LONGEST CAR RIDE?
Driving the Pan-American highway all the way from Tierra del Fuego, Chile to Barrow, Alaska with my friend Mergatroid. Man the adventures we had on that 6-month trip. It's weird, though, because when I ask people if they missed me while I was gone, they told me that I was in a psychiatric hospital and they visted me all the time. Whatever!

[M]-MILKSHAKE FLAVOR?
What's that flavor that brings all the boys to the yard? Probably something with bacon or liquid smoke flavor.

[N] - NUMBER OF SIBLINGS?
Two brothers, one sister, and Mergatroid, who's like a brother to me.

[O] - ONE WISH?
If I had a wish, then it would be... a happy, happy birthday to you from me!

[P] - PERSON WHO CALLED YOU LAST?
Some telecommunications company wanting me to switch long-distance carriers. We chatted for hours and hours... well, I chatted; she was silent the whole time and after a while, she kept making this annoying repetitive beeping sound, but I just talked though it.

[Q] - QUARTERS OR PENNIES
Whichever. Actually, I prefer nickels when filling a sock for mafia wack-jobs I contract for on the side.

[R] - REASON TO SMILE?
The opium-based cough syrup I 'accidentally' took four doses of. Mergatroid was REALLY chatty after I took that. He makes me smile.

[S] - SONG YOU LAST HEARD?
Margaret singing some Rick Astley song while floating on a purple cloud while petting a tiny giraffe. She sang it for me after I'd taken my cough medicine.

[T] - TIME YOU WOKE UP THIS MORNING?
8:00am, then took a nap and woke up again at 11:00am, then took another nap and woke up at 1:00pm. Hey, cut me some slack... I'm SICK! Don't you frickin' JUDGE me!

[U] - UMBRELLA COLOR?
Whatever they serve with the mai-tai's. I'm not choosy.

[V] - VEGETABLES?
Generally I'm in favor of euthanasia and doctor-assisted suicide. (I live in Oregon, HELLO!)

[W] - WORST HABIT?
I'd say my worst habit is caring too much.

[X] X-rays you've had?
Dental, elbow, lower back, and that pervy Superman, who one time... oh, nevermind.

[Y]- your number of friends on myspace
I lost track after 2. It's just been going CRAZY!

[Z] - ZODIAC SIGN?
Aquarius. Same as Margaret. It makes our household 112% kookier than the average American household.

Working sick

Ugg. Nothing beats having to come in to work when you're sick because there's a big presentation you have to give and you're so anal that the thought of someone else slaughtering your presentation is enough to cancel your chemotherapy appointment and reschedule your wedding date. Maybe it's just me.

My voice is so hoarse that I probably will sound particularly pathetic... which I might milk for sympathy. I can say that I'm sick, just like our rivers are sick, and then follow it up by turning around and having a tear run down my face. Ah, guilt... Unfortunately I think it mainly works on an individual basis and not a societal one... how else could you explain why there are so many hungry and homeless children in this country?

'That's how they get you'

Check out this sign from a Baptist church:



Heaven forbid you ask GOD about something, especially when churches are always more than happy to tell you what's what... plus there's no telling what kind of answer God will give you. In the church in this picture, I'll assume the parishners find out there's a whole list of things that you aren't supposed pray about because the answer will lead you astray. Some of the forbidden questions include:

1. Should I be worried about climate change?
   
2. Should I be concerned that groups of people even in America are being denied equal rights?
   
3. Are the goals of Universal health care something that I should support?
   
4. Why are brown people so scary?
   
5. Isn't the widening gap between the rich and the poor unfair and unjust?
   
6. Do I really get to go to heaven and anyone that doesn't think like me will burn in hell? [Uh, that one is okay to think about... in fact, go ahead and fixate on that to the exclusion of thinking about clean air and water, hunger, poverty, injustice, homelessness, racial and sexual discrimination, censorship, war, suffering, or misery. You'll be happier that way.]
   

Dragonboat season

Well, another year of Rose Festival-brand dragonboating came to a close this weekend. The team Margaret is on (I haven't been able to take part in the racing since my arm now extends backwards courtesy of The Car Accident of 2004) raced on Saturday and Sunday. The weather was not what I'd call optimal racing weather. In between the gusts of wind and pre-global-warming-era Arctic temperatures, Noah's-Ark-era amounts of rain drenched the paddlers. Fortunately I was able to stay dry and comfortable in the team tent ("guarding" all the snacks) and emerge only to snap a few pictures during the race.

This picture is of Margaret triumphantly snatching the flag at the finish line. That's something unique to Portland dragonboat races--everywhere else boringly crosses a finish line and calls it good. Here in Portland, we turn it into a dramatic finish where the flag catcher, precariously perched on the head of a dragon like a figurehead on a pirate ship (although they generally keep their tops on), extends herself as far out over the water as she dares to be the first to pluck the flag from the finish buoy. Of course overconfident women (as the figurehead is almost never a man) have been known to fall off the dragon head and into the filthy water, or, even WORSE, miss the flag and be penalized. As you can see from this picture, Margaret successfully grabbed the flag AND stayed on board! The team went on to win second place in their division! And I went on to eat almost all the peanut M&M's that someone had brought for the team.

The power of peanuts

I just read about fans of the CBS show "Jericho" protesting the cancellation of that show by sending peanuts to CBS headquarters. Evidently they are a reference to some WWII phrase about nuts, being the acronym "Not Understanding Term Surrender." Well, after 25 TONS!!! of peanuts, the CBS bigwigs had a change of heart and produced 9 more episodes as a test. I wonder how many peanuts we'd have to send the White House before Bush would have a change of heart and let the troops come home to watch Jericho with their families?

Recycle, recycle, recycle

The next time you think about just throwing something away instead of recycling it, just remember this poor sea turtle, that got one of those plastic bands caught around its shell when it was a baby. This picture was in an article about the swirling plastic mass that has been collecting in an eddy of the Pacific Ocean north of Hawaii. Currently the stretch of plastic bags, nets and ropes and bottles, motor-oil jugs and cracked bath toys, mangled tarps, tires, traffic cones, and millions of other pieces of plastic is TWO TIMES THE SIZE OF TEXAS!!!

If Iraq, poverty, and global warming aren't depressing you enough, I'd encourage you to go read the entire article here. And don't forget to recycle, recycle, recycle!

Unicorns

Speaking of unicorns (see the comments from the previous, thoroughly depressing post), today's paper also had an article about unicorns that renewed my faith in the mainstream media. That awesome stories like this are still published makes my heart glad:

Have you seen me?
Mythical? Come, now. Rare sightings of this magical beast, missing since the '80s, give hope to believers everywhere.
By EMILY NIPPS

If you were a child of the '80s, you remember the unicorn, that enchanting horned creature that graced the cover of your Trapper Keeper and covered the pages of your sticker books. You might remember the heartbreaking animated film The Last Unicorn, and you might have brushed the pretty purple mane of your My Little Pony Moondancer doll. Unicorns, it seemed, were everywhere. Unicorns were cooler than fairies, more believable than dragons. They represented mystery and hope, a slightly dark fantasy made sweet with sparkles and rainbows. One day, we thought, we'll find one. And we'll be super-secret best friends forever. At some point, though, we stopped believing. Or did we? Over the last few years, the unicorn has slowly and quietly crept back into popular culture. It has popped up on trendy retro-style T-shirts, often with sayings like "Unicorn Power!" and "Free Unicorn Rides." It has appeared in television ads, flooding MySpace and gaining popularity on YouTube cult video clips. There's a hip indie band called the Unicorns and countless Web sites devoted to unicorn awareness. It's hard to say exactly why this sacred beast has made a comeback, but we're hoping it's here to stay. For those who missed the unicorn craze of the '80s, here are the answers to some of your most burning unicorn questions.

Where do unicorns come from?
The origin of the unicorn is as mysterious as the beast itself. Ancient Greek historians wrote of unicorn discovery in India, while German scientists found prehistoric unicorn bones in 1663. The most popular and credible theory, however, is that unicorns migrated to America long ago from the Land of Awesome. (A little-known fact for you: the special rainbow bridge from the Land of Awesome to America was destroyed by the Decepticons during the Care Bear Wars.)

Can unicorns fly?
No, you're thinking of a Pegasus, which is not magical and has no horn. Unicorns are so fleet on foot, they don't need wings. Plus, they know karate. (They also know how to balance the federal budget but the White House is too stubborn to ask their help.)

Are unicorns magical?
Very, but most of the magic is located in the horn, which has the power to neutralize poison. This comes in handy when, say, one of your enemies hands you a cup of apple juice with poison in it. Let your unicorn stick its horn in your cup, and the juice is ready to drink! (They're really popular in Utah, where they use this power to turn wine into water... because, you know, it's what Jesus would do!)

Can I ride my unicorn?
A unicorn is your best friend, not your taxi service. Many people mistake a unicorn for a horse. And that's just wrong.

Will my unicorn talk about me behind my back?
Unicorns are honest creatures and will tell it like it is. They will tell you when your tag is sticking out of your collar or when your Electric Youth perfume smells like rotten bananas. But they will never, ever divulge your faults to other people. Not even to Santa's elves. (Unlike Catholic priests, who are now contstrained by law to divulge certain "faults" to the authorities... man, unicorns are SO much better!)

What do unicorns eat?
Unicorns love to munch on stones, tree sap and rainbow glitter. Do not try to give a unicorn chewing gum. It will poop pink bubbles and ruin your carpet. (That happened once in one of my mission apartments and my mission president wouldn't believe me... something about not unicorns... blah blah blah... LSD.... something something... bad trip. I don't remember all the details, exactly.)

How do I capture a unicorn?
A unicorn can only be captured and tamed by a virgin, who must entrap the beast with her purity and charm. If a virgin is not around, try ensnaring it in a dreamcatcher. A shotgun will also work.

Do unicorns like to party?
No, unicorns are lonesome souls who prefer to gallop along purple sandy shorelines, underneath the starry sky. However, if you insist, the unicorn will have a glass of Rumplemintz.

Threat priorities

Okay, I usually try to keep politics out of this blog, seeing that there are avowed Republicans in my family that read it and I want to keep myself on their Christmas-present-buying list, but something in the paper this morning completely dumbfounded me. I mean, I was literally at a loss for words when I tried to complain to Margaret about it. On one page, there was an article about the White House cutting funding for a series of climate-monitoring satellites that were designed to further our understanding of global warming... okay, shocking enough. But the coup de grâce... three pages later, there was an article about President Bush promising to double the funding to create a missle-defense system in Europe! Pouring money into a questionable system that has never been able to do what it promised as a defense against the Russians?!? So the potential threat of those darned Russkies outweighs the threat of rising ocean levels damaging or destroying every single coastal city, not only in the US, but the entire PLANET!!! I just don't get it.

The Itch

Over the weekend, we went to the first birthday party of our friends' little boy. The event had quite the age range from newly emerged to someone who was born before the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austria- Hungarian throne, in Sarajevo by a member of the Black Hand! That particular woman lives in a nearby assisted-living center. She was pretty spry, considering she was older than the Panama Canal, but kept refusing offers of beer because of her medications. Which got her on the topic of how she used to just LOVE Jack Daniels, but a few years ago she had some and afterward, lost her balance and fell over, remarking that she had to stop then, as she was falling-down drunk!

As the group's conversation moved on to the fact that our friends' seventh anniversary was coming up, we started talking about the Seven Year Itch. The old lady heard that and said, "Oh, I had that once, in fact my whole family had to get treated for it!" We all shared questioning glances, realizing that she wasn't talking about marital discontent. She continued, "We had a visitor, who was using my room, and after he'd left, I got my room back, and I caught the itch from sleeping in the bed that the man had been sleeping in." Sorry, but that sounds more like an STD than a state of mind. Whatever it was, she told us that the cure was to apply a salve, put on some old clothes, and sit on a stump for a couple of days. Yes... a STUMP?!? What kind of doctor's orders include sitting on a stump? (Unless you're being treated for hemorrhoids and your doctor is particularly sadistic.)