LOST!
One eastern screech owl. Grey morph.

Maybe she's sitting on her eggs and not coming up to be seen. Maybe she's off visiting friends and will be back tomorrow. Maybe she's gone to South Padre for spring break.

Who the hell knows? All I know is I want my owl back!

Are you fucking kidding me?
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17527506/

How in the hell do these people live with themselves? The hypocrisy is STAGGERING.

Yet another picture. Trying to get it in the right light. I badly need a new camera!

A bigger picture.

My dad gave me an Owl Shack for my birthday. If you don't know what that is, you should check them out at www.owlshack.com

We put our owl shack up on last Tuesday, and yesterday morning we discovered we had a tenant. We named her (we think it's a her, but really, who knows?!?) Owla Fitzgerald in honor of Zoe's new passion for 20th century jazz. If it turns out she's actually a he, his name will become Duke Owlington.

I wish I could take a better picture, but for now, I don't want to get to close. I'd hate to scare her off when she's just getting comfortable.

I just realized I've gone two or three days without hearing or reading a single Anna Nicole Smith story, and that's just freaking me out.

Or maybe the fact that our exchange student may have whooping cough is freaking me out.

Or maybe I'm just a freak.

Either way, I need to get my universerse back in balance, and ASAP!

Please excuse me while I vent for a minute. . .

Never mind. I'm too annoyed even to vent rationally. So I'll just break it down to the basics. Everybody sucks. Especially the people who live in my house. Most especially the ones under the age of 18.

That's all. I'll get over it soon, I'm sure.

If you are my friend (and clearly you are, or you wouldn't be reading this) please, please, please don't ever "shoot" me an e-mail. And if I ever "shoot" you and e-mail, feel free to just shoot me.

The love-obsessed astronaut mom charged with attempted kidnapping and murder earlier this week should probably send some flowers to Anna Nicole's funeral. I've never seen a story disappear so quickly and completely.

This is a rhetorical question, but what the hell happened to the news in this country? I took a much greater interest in each of these stories than I should have, so I know I'm part of the problem, but damn. Our news coverage is completely out of control.

Mia had a hard time getting to sleep last night. She had had a bad dream the night before and she was afraid that it was going to come back if she went to sleep. As Mia tells it, "There was this evil puffball. His name was Fluffy. And he kept tricking me into his evil traps." What the hell? What kind of nightmare is that? You know, she used to be terrified of a singing puppet from Teletubbies. She saw it once and had nightmares about it for years. It was this bizarre little puppet guy with a bun on his head that went from window to window in a computer animated pink house singing a horrible little song. She saw the guy once for maybe 10 seconds and the image haunted her for, literally, three years. She even knew his name (although I'm certain he was nameless on Teletubbies). She called him Ihavin. I have a kid who is terrified of puffballs and singing puppets. What's up with that?

In other kid news, we ended up talking about Latin American while we were sitting around the dinner table last night. As you may or may not know, we have an exchange student from Germany living with us right now. Jenny (that's her) is taking, among other things, Latin American Studies at Austin High, which led to the following conversation. . .
Zoe: What's Latin American Studies?
Jenny: Well, do you know what Latin American is?
Zoe: Nope.
Me: Latin America is a bunch of countries to the south of the United States where the people mostly speak Spanish.
Zoe: Oh, like Mexico?
Me: That's right. And Guatemala, El Salvador, Chile, etc.
Mia: Oh yeah. And India.
Zoe: No, silly. They don't speak Spanish in India. They speak Curry.

Oh my. So much for multiculturally-sensitive parenting. . .

I subscribed to Prevention magazine recently. I needed to subscribe to *something* as a friend's kid was fundraising for preschool playground equipment or an orchestra trip, or whatever. In any case, I already receive all two magazines I'm interested in reading (The Week and less consistently, Texas Monthly) as well as a couple I don't read.

I chose Prevention because a couple of my friends get it. And these happen to be my most health conscious, fit friends. And they're smart, too. Really, really smart. So, rather than ASKING what they thought of the magazine, I figured they must like it. And wanting to be health conscious, fit, and smart, I subscribed.

But guess what!?! It SUCKS! It's like a health and nutrition tabloid. Seriously. I'd say it's about 50% pharmaceutical advertising, 15% other advertising, and maybe 15% useful information. The remaining 20% consists of bogus and/or hyped up health claims, such as how to Lower Your Blood Pressure with Celery! or how to Choose Fat-Blocker Foods!! Or my all-time favorite, "Doctors' Top Ten Secrets for Preventing Heart Disease! What?!? Doctors keep the good stuff secret and then publish it in Prevention magazine? Yeah, I didn't buy it either.

So, if you love Prevention and I've hurt your feelings, I apologize. Especially if you're the friend whom I love and respect who unwittingly tricked me into buying the damn thing. But I really had to get that off my chest.

Now I'm going to go find out how to Ward Off Cancer with Cherries!

I'm going to lay my political biases right out on the table (as if I haven't already). What I'm about to say is pathetic, but it's honest.

If we had discussed the issue a week ago, before any of this happened, and assuming the vaccine has been well-tested and is safe and effective, I'd very likely have thought that adding this to the list of mandatory vaccines would be a good idea. BUT as soon as I heard Perry had issued an executive order making the vaccine mandatory, I was suspicious. We are on completely opposite sides of the spectrum on most every issue of substance, and that makes me wonder what his motives are. Plus, the idea that he completely avoided any kind of debate about the issue by issuing the executive order really rankles me. Any time any political figure does something like that, I think it should raise flags.

All that being said, I think it is ridiculous to argue that giving a young girl a vaccine to protect her against a potentially life-threatening disease STD is somehow promoting promiscuity. If we were to apply the same argument, we shouldn't vaccinate children against hepatitis because it could promote promiscuity, intravenous drug use, and blood transfusions. The argument just doesn't make sense!

It absolutely sucks that we live in a time where everything out of the ordinary can be interpreted as potential terrorism. A bunch of birds die near the capitol in Austin, and we assume someone has released something dangerous into the air. An irreverent tv show initiates a stealth marketing campaign, and some passerby panics and calls the police, who shut down parts of a major US city.

What the hell?

I've been thinking about all the hubbub caused by the "terrorist scare" in Boston. (You can read up on it here http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16921137/ if you're not up to speed.) Is it possible that the government really intends to hold the marketing people responsible for the goverment's own overreaction?

Maybe I'm missing a key piece of the puzzle, but it seems to me that intent has to play a role. From what I've read, what I know about the show the devices were marketing, and the images I've seen, it's hard for me to imagine that the people who placed the devices intended for them to be interpreted as dangerous. It may have been misadvised (although, really, I'm not even sure about that), but I don't think there was an intention to do harm. Yes, someone panicked and set the department of homeland security in motion. But whose fault is it really?

Which brings me to the lame and incomplete hypothetical scenario I've been considering. Let's say I take my minivan full of kids to the mall. As they're climbing out, someone unknowingly knocks the remote control to my on-board DVD player out of the van and we head into the mall. When we return, the parking lot has been overtaken by police and homeland security, and MOPAC has been shut down because somebody walking by saw a strange electronic device in a place it shouldn't have been.

Would this all be my fault? Could I actually be held financially and even *criminally* responsible for someone else's misperception of the situation? 'Cause that's what it sounds like is happening in Boston.

And that's just NUTS!

Somebody please tell me this is a joke. Maybe this guy was being tongue-in-cheek and I am missing the subtle cues. If not, this is seriously one of the stupidest letters to the editor I've ever read in the Austin American Statesman:


"How insulting, how sad, the powers that be would have us take seriously a man running for president whose name is Barack HUSSEIN Obama.

I wonder how many well educated, well informed, above average Austinites are even aware of this tiny tidbit. Now that's weird.--HP BRADISH"

If he's for real, HP Bradish is a complete moron.

Man, how I love weather-related housebound days. Gray and cold outside, warm and cosy inside, snuggled up in a blanket on a sofa reading a great book or watching an old black and white movie about nuns running an orphanage, a pot of chili simmering on the stove. It just doesn't get much better for me.

Now, if I could only get my dagblamed children to play along. They need "something to do." They want to "go out and play." They're "bored." Damn them and their developmentally appropriate desire for mental and physical stimulation.

Honestly, these girls are gonna ruin my snow day. . .

Beckham signs with the Los Angeles Galaxy.

There are few sports headlines that grab my attention, but this did. I mentioned it to Davy, who is so good at seeing through these things. While I figured Beckham had lost his mind (or at least his magic touch), Davy sees things differently. It's a win-win, he says (well, he didn't actually say "win-win" but that's my interpretation). Beckham's no fool. His brand goes way up in value if he increases his recognition over here. He can't play forever, and the celebrity prospects in the U.S. are pretty high. Plus, where else would Whoever Spice (sorry, I can't remember--was she posh? was she sporty? was she the smart one?) rather be for her career than L.A.?

And what if it all has the side effect of raising soccer consiousness in the US? It's all good, right?

On a much more somber note, I just realized that today, 1/10/07, marks five years since Rachel Cooke disappeared while jogging in her neighborhood near Georgetown. Five years, and Robert still has no definitive answers about what happened to his daughter.

For one day back in November (I think) it looked the Cookes might finally know who was responsible for Rachel's disappearance and likely murder, but that all fell apart when Michael Moore unexpectedly plead not guilty at his hearing. There's still no public word as to what direction the investigation has taken now, but I hope someone is getting closer to the truth.

What the Cooke family has gone through over the past five years is simply unthinkable. Today I pray for Robert, Janet, and Joanne, and hope for the best possible future for all of them.

Hmmmmmm. I wonder what an ultra unhip 30-something minivan driving soccermom type with absolutely no connections would have to do to see one particular band at SXSW? A band that is technically not even scheduled to play, but who, according to my clever friend Jake, has clearly arranged their international touring schedule to be in Texas with a free week the same week as SXSW? (I mean, really, who goes from Houston, TX on 3/16 to Milan, Italy on 4/5?)

But I digress. My real question is how do regular people get into these things? Damn, I wish I had some strings to pull.

There are not many bands I would brave a busy club to see, especially during SXSW. But I'd give my left anything to see Scissor Sisters. . .

Plumbing update.

The plumber just left. He used a cool little camera device to inspect our pipes. His diagnosis: Nothing Is Wrong.

It feels very much like taking the car to the mechanic. But sir, it was SMOKING yesterday. How can nothing be wrong?????

Anyway, it seems that either the blockage resolved itself or it was actually the city sewer that stopped up and flowed back into our pipes. We'll never know. Unless it happens again. God forbid.

Here's the best part. He charged us. . .

Wait for it. . . .

Nothing.

The man inspected our pipes for an hour. Changed a flapper on the upstairs toilet.

And charged us $0.00.

That has never happened to me in my life. We've been using this plumber for a couple of years, and I can't speak highly enough of him. It's David at Plumb Good. If you ever need a plumber, I'll gladly pass his contact information along. Best. Plumber. Ever.

Happy New Year. And Happy Major Plumbing Expenses!

Thursday night the kitchen sink backed up for no apparent reason. Well, except for the absurd quantity of lettuce that I put through the disposal because it had been sitting in the refrigerator since Christmas. . . Davy was gone and I had to have a neighbor come help me. I had plunged the sink, but to no avail. It turns out you have to block air from entering the drain from the other side by filling it with water. Who knew? I don't have a master's degree in linguistics for nothin, baby!

Fast forward to Sunday morning. Davy and Mia are out, and Zoe and I are having a relaxing hour alone. I'm cleaning out the guest room closet in preparation for Jenny, our German friend who will be joining us later this month to spend a semester at Austin High School. But I digress. I walk into the laundry room to get something and realize my socks are wet. Crap, is the washing machine leaking? Nope. Laundry room is completely dry. Walk back out into the hall to realize the carpet is squishing. It is literally soaked with water!?! So I pivot to the right and look into the bathroom. Double crap! But really this time. The floor is covered in some kind of sludge. And so is the bathtub. What the hell? This must have happened in the last 5 minutes because the last time I walked through here, everything was fine.

Where ever the water came from (the floor under to toilet and the bathtub drain? there's no sign of nastiness on the actual toilet bowl, so I'm stymied), it has stopped. I get everything cleaned up and cautiously flush the toilet. Nothing out of the ordinary. I run the washing machine and the dishwasher (which were both running during the debacle), and again, nothing. Still, I leave a message with the plumber, set up fans to dry the carpet, and get on with my day.

Monday morning, Mia flushes the toilet upstairs and then yells that it is leaking. What the hell? She "may have used too much toilet paper." So this may or may not be related to the mess from yesterday. Call the plumber again. They're coming this afternoon. This can't be good!!!!