The coming execution of Saddam Hussein makes me uneasy. I can't really put words to it. It's not that he didn't do some really bad things. I imagine he probably did. I also understand that his death sentence was technically passed by the Iraqi justice system, and so officially, it's not the U.S. executing a foreign leader. But people worldwide are going to blame the U.S. nonetheless. And really, isn't this the most honorable thing that could possibly happen to him? To die a martyr for the anti-U.S. cause? Isn't it going to simply inflame the insurgency and put U.S. forces further in the hole (speaking in terms of both military logistics and public relations) than they already are?

I honestly don't see what point it serves. Does it deter other bad guys from doing bad stuff? Probably not so much. I guess it ensures that he can never escape and do more bad stuff, but that was a pretty unlikely proposition anyway.

Just thinking out loud (kind of). . .

Oh yeah!

You know you're getting old when you have a little celebration because it's "only" an endometrial polyp.

I don't have cancer. At least not of the uterus. And not right now.

Happy, happy day!

Random stuff

I played a concert at the Paramount last night. That was a lot of fun. It was definitely the oldest and most historic stage I can remember playing on. The dressing rooms are underground--pretty much right below the stage--and they're crazy small. We imagine performers' lives being exciting and glamorous, but I've sat in the same dressing room as David Sedaris and Jerry Seinfeld, and I've gotta tell you, it wasn't so glamorous!
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I've got some weird health stuff going on. I actually feel great. I'm fitter and generally healthier than ever. But I've had some funny "girl" problems lately that inspired my doctor to do a endometrial biopsy to rule out uterine cancer. Now I get to wait 4-5 days for the results--which I'm sure are going to be fine. But really I'm just saying that. I'm not so sure at all. How ironic would it be for me to have lost all this weight and gotten fit and healthy--just to get cancer? That would really piss me off. . .
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I like not working better than working. If only I could find a way to earn money while not working. Well, then I'd be rich! In a perfect world, I'd sleep as late as I wanted to, read for at least 2 hours every day, ride my bike more, and play with my kids without being distracted by a bunch of stuff on my to-do list.
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Also in my perfect world??? I'd be able to think of something interesting to write about. . .

Robyn's question for the day:

Do the people at Fox News actually, honestly believe that they are "journalists"? If so, I want some of their denial meds.

Really.

What a bastard. So apparently he had a plea agreement. In exchange for a guilty plea, this guy was going to get to serve concurrent life sentences. The DA's office, the sherrif's office, his own attorney, the Cooke family, everyone sitting in the court room expected a guilty plea. And he says "not guilty."

Are you fucking kidding me? Sure in principal he deserves a fair trial and he's not guilty until proven guilty and all that really important stuff that makes our justice system work (when it does work). But right now all I can think about is Robert and Janet and the rest of the family. They've been through so much, and to think it was over and to end up on a roller coaster like this--it's just not right.

I simply can't imagine. . .

Rachel. . .

On a Sunday evening in early January of 2002, just as we were sitting down to dinner, the phone rang. It was one of Davy's coworkers telling him that his friend and coworker, Robert, needed help. Robert's daughter had disappeared. He knew something was wrong, but he was having trouble getting law enforcement to take it seriously. Davy, like the rest of his team, immediately offered to help look for her, and he and scores of others spent the next week scouring the areas around her neighborhood and beyond. After she'd been missing for a couple of days, if I remember correctly, police finally took notice, but it was too late. Rachel was gone, and nobody who knew what had happened to her was talking.

It's been four and a half years since Rachel disappeared. Robert and Janet have divorced, and Robert was laid off from his job. They're entire lives have fallen apart. Robert has spent the past four and a half years searching for Rachel and helping other families in similar situations. He has participated in several searches for missing people, and spoken at conferences and before government committees. I read his online journal and visit rachel's site www.rachelcookesearch.org regularly, but I can't imagine the hell he's been through.

Tomorrow the Williamson County Sherrif's Department is going to make an announcement about an important new development in the case. The announcement is linked to court procedings scheduled for 10:00 a.m. I imagine charges are going to be filed, and I wouldn't be surprised if they had something to do with the remains that were found in a barrell in Lake Buchanan in September. No announcement was ever made about them. . .

No matter what, I can't imagine that it's good news. Although I suppose that on some level getting answers is better than not knowing. Or then again, maybe not. I just don't know. What I do know is that my heart is breaking for Robert and the entire Cooke family all over again. It's going to be a long night.

Editing to say that my barrel theory was off the mark. Rachel's remains have not been found. But a suspect, who is already serving a life sentence for the murder of another woman in the north Austin area, has been charged with her murder.

Just in case anyone was holding their breath or unable to sleep, I'm back to report that the Scissor Sisters new CD Ta-Dah does not disappoint.

I LOVE these guys!

Random Observations. . .

Expressing one's dislike of the current president of the United States does NOT make said person a "communist." Do a little reading people. Democracy is ABOUT dissent. And besides that, the cold war is over. If you're going to dehumanize everyone who disagrees with you by classifying them as your most terrifying enemy, you might as well choose a relevant enemy. IDIOTS!
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If you're in charge of the jack-o-lantern pumpkin display at the local grocery story, and you actually WANT to sell some pumpkins, don't stack them in huge boxes, in a corner, behind a bunch of bales of hay. Here's an idea---make them accessible to your customers.
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I've finally done some research and despite the fact that he is the most entertaining candidate running for Texas, I'm not going to be able to vote for Kinky. His stance on immigration seems to be, well, a punchline more than the skeleton of any sort of workable policy. And a bad punchline at that. Too bad, though. Texas could use a character. Sadly it looks like Rick Perry is going to take this one. Again. It will be interesting to see which way Austin votes, though.
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On a lighter, and happier, note, my Scissor Sisters CD has arrived and is sitting on my desk as I type. For some reason I haven't put it in the player yet. Perhaps I'm afraid it won't live up to my expectations. I guess it's time to take a risk.
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Oh, and one other thing I need to get off my chest. Rush Limbaugh is a prick. And anyone who is still listening to him is an idiot. What the fuck is wrong with you people???? Seriously!

Hooray!!! The new Scissor Sisters CD is out. I can't wait to get my hands on it!
It's not often these days that I actually get excited about new music, but these guys are so much fun!

We're heading to Plano tomorrow after school and the State Fair of Texas on Friday. I hope it doesn't rain on us. There's just nothing quite as depressing as a soggy Fletcher's Corndog. . .

Today's entry from the department of You Had to Spend Money on a Study to Figure That Out?!?!

Bike Lanes Are Good For Cyclists

A reminder that there are idiots all over the world--not just in America!

Panda Bites Man; Man Bites Panda

One thing nobody tells you about having kids is that they are going to make you sick. I don't mean "that nose ring makes me want to throw up" sick. I'm talking fevery, shivering, "I can't remember what it was like to feel normal" miserable. The thing is, once they get to school, they spend all day with kids from all over the place, coughing and sneezing on each other. Lots of parents send their sick kids to school because they have no other options. Other parents send sick kids to school because the schools are so damned hard-assed nowadays about absences and losing out on state funds.

In any event, my kids are bringing home ebola-strength colds on a pretty regular basis. They recover from them quickly, but I seem to catch every third or fourth virus that passes through, and periodically one of those will knock me flat on my ass. Which is where you'll find me right now. Flat on my coughing, sneezing, achy, stuffy head, sore throat, fever-y ass. Feeling sorry for myself.

If this is my last post ever, well you'll know why.

Willie's still got it!

According to an AP report. . .

"Willie Nelson and four others were issued misdemeanor citations for possession of narcotic mushrooms and marijuana after a traffic stop Monday morning on a Louisiana highway, state police said.
The citations were issued after a commercial vehicle inspection of the country music star’s tour bus, state police said in a news release.
“When the door was opened and the trooper began to speak to the driver, he smelled the strong odor of marijuana,” the news release said. A search of the bus produced 1½ pounds of marijuana and 0.2 pounds of narcotic mushrooms, according to state police."

DAMN!

I was so sad when I woke up this morning to the news that Ann Richards had died. I first met her when I was a delegate to Texas Girls' State over 20 years ago. That was before she became governor of Texas--I can't remember exactly what, if any, public office she held at the time--but she definitely made an impression on me. I didn't see her again until her brilliant address at the 1988 National Democratic Convention, when she nominated Bill Clinton for president. WOW!

I registered to vote via absentee ballot from Germany in 1990, just so I could cast my vote in the Texas governor's election. Thank God she beat that buffoon, Clayton Williams. Sadly, there would be other buffoons to come that put Williams's buffoonedness to shame, but that's another entry.

The last time I met Ann Richards was almost exactly a year ago. I was walking through Nordstroms when I saw a woman I knew. Based on a lightening-quick assessment of her age and wardrobe, I guessed it was probably one of my mom's country club friends--but one I knew pretty well. Maybe even one who had come to my wedding 10 years earlier. As my brain sorted all of this out in a second or less, my body went into auto mode. I greeted the woman with a friendly "hey!", smiled a wide, familiar smile appropriate for a chance meeting with an old family friend, and threw my arms open for a hug--all in the same moment that I realized this was NOT one of my mom's friends; it was Ann Richards. Ms. Richards didn't look too surprised. She smiled with some amusement and said a friendly hello as I stammered and kept on walking. The whole thing literally took less than two seconds to transpire. I was simultaneously mortified and thrilled. I spent the rest of the day thinking about what I *wish* I would have said to her--but I never quite got it right. "Thank you for being so amazing!" "Did you really ride that Harley?" "How in the hell did you, Texas's very own Wonder Woman, lose to Stupid Boy George W. Bush? Were you even trying?"

I showed her picture to my girls this morning and told them all about her.

Rest in peace, Ann Richards. . .

Ya know, I've been on the fence about Kinky. But not anymore. If Chris Bell had a snowball's chance in hell, I might be persuaded to vote Dem, but as it is, I am honestly starting to believe that Kinky is the best choice.

So there.

Five years ago today. . .

Mia was 4 months old. Zoe was almost 2. We were up and getting ready to go to Jazzercise when Tom D. called and asked me if I had the tv on. I did, but it was tuned to Sesame Street, very likely the one program that wouldn't be interrupted with coverage of what was going on in New York (and later, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania). As I had flipped through the channels to get to PBS, I had noticed the same image of a smoking building on every channel, but considering the ridiculous over-coverage the media had given to every real and imagined crisis since O.J. Simson's famous car chase, I assumed it was nothing important and just kept flipping up to more appropriate programming for toddlers.

Tom told me that a plane had hit the World Trade Center, and just as I was tuning in to see what was going on, the second plane hit the second tower. Unbelievable.

What I remember most about that day--and the days that followed-- is being completely numb. I don't remember crying; I didn't feel angry; I didn't feel afraid; I was empty. I realize now that I couldn't make any sense out of what happened. It was so big in that moment, that I simply couldn't grasp it.

With Zoe being much too young to understand what was going on, but plenty old enough to be disturbed by the awful images being broadcast, there was no question of me watching the days-long coverage out of New York, Washington, DC, and Pennsylvania. Besides that, our house was scheduled to go on the market on Friday. We'd already signed the papers to buy a new house, and there was no time to spare. So I was forced, for better or for worse, to keep myself pretty removed from the whole thing. I knew what had happened, but I was not inundated with the images and speculation that many others experienced. In fact, today I have watched much more coverage of the events that unfolded on September 11, 2001 than I did five years ago. With both girls at school I felt like I could safely turn it on. MSNBC ran the original 9/11 tape of the Today Show from from about 7:30 until 11:00 CST and I watched the whole thing. Like most everyone else who watched what happened that morning, I couldn't turn away.

I don't know when it happened, but somehow my girls have gotten old enough to invite friends over to play--and they don't need me to entertain them, or really even to watch them. So I'm sitting downstairs, trying to read, while they romp around upstairs. It's so hard for me to stay away, when I really want to sneak upstairs to see what they're up to. Thump, bump, bang, giggle. Their laughter a fairy tinkle of absolute innocent delight.

My wish is that it would always be this way. That they would always be able to romp and play and whisper and laugh with no inhibitions or concerns.

Although Mia just called down, "Don't come upstairs." So now I'm thinking that fairy laughter might not have been so innocent afterall. . .

This whole JonBenet Ramsey circus makes me sick. Of course, her family deserves justice and the law and order folks should be doing whatever they need to do find the bad guy. But why is this "news"? Until he is charged and tried, coverage of this clown they caught in Thailand should consist of nothing more than a short blurb on the third page of the newspaper. It is absolutely beyond me how a "serious" news show can justify interviewing random people who happened to be on the same plane as the suspect--and playing it off as serious analysis.

That's not news. That's uninformed gossip. And if I want gossip, I'll get it from the Star, thank you very much. I expect NEWS from the "news." Call me naive. . .

I think I'll get all my news from Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert from now on. The stories on The Daily Show and The Colbert Report are at least as well researched as the garbage I've seen on the network news shows lately and at least they're up front about pretending to be journalists.

Bleh!

Today I hit a deer. I guess technically the deer hit my car, but in terms of pure force, the poor deer ended up the worse for it. I'm fine. Zoe and her friend who was in the car with us are both fine (although pretty startled), but my car's gonna need some work.

I was only about a minute from home when it happened, so I was able to bring the girls home and return to deal with the deer. It was clearly dead, but I couldn't move it out of the road by myself. Thankfully, a nice man pulled up and helped me move it. Two other people pulled up to see if I needed help in the hour I stood there. To the other 5,000 people who passed by a woman standing on the side of the road in 100 degree heat next to a dead deer and a disabled vehicle, I'd like to say fuck you!

That's all. I need a drink.

And the correct answer is---

KITTEN.

She's a sweet, frisky little siamese mix, and her name is Blue Jade, Jade for short.