Mika Brzezinski of MNSBC rips Paris report

Testing, testing. Testing my ability to add a video directly to my blog.
How fancy am I?

Mika Brzezinski is my hero

I never heard of her before today, but if you haven't seen this clip of Mika Brzezinski refusing to report entertainment gossip as news, you should watch it. The whole thing. It's only about 3 minutes long, although the clock in the bottom right-hand corner shows that this took place over several hours. This woman deserves a Pulitzer Prize or something!

Mika Takes a Stand

Green Snakes, and Brown Snakes, and Possums, Oh MY

This morning I went out to put the grill cover back on the grill (yummy fajitas last night, but that's a different post altogether) and I saw a sweet green grass snake sunning itself on my fence. I saw sweet, because compared the the giant rat snake from a month or so ago, this guy was a kitten. And then I gathered up all my courage (because even though I know little green snakes are harmless, they all give me the heebie jeebies) and I decided to continue on my mission. So, I lifted up the grill cover and what was underneath it, but ANOTHER snake. This one, I can tell you with some confidence, was a baby rat snake. Whether it's the offspring of our friend the gigatic monster rat snake, I can't say, but it was small. And get this. I took a deep breath, shook myself off, and continued with the job at hand. Albeit with one eye constantly roving between the two snakes.

So, then, proud of myself for doing what needed to be done in the face of adversity, I rewarded myself with a tour around my yard to inspect the bird feeders and see what was blooming, what needed pruning, etc. And what did I find, lying DEAD under my peanut feeder, but a young (did I mention dead?) opossum---with ants crawling out of its eye sockets, nostrills, and mouth.

Blech.

All of which begs the question: why the hell can't my husband put the grill cover back on the grill when he's done? This is really ALL his fault.

I need a drink!

Another in the series of amusing quotes from my delicate six-year-old daughter

Mia (face red with effort): Pfffjfffffhhhhhttttthhhhhh.
Jenny (concerned): Gosh, Mia. Do you need to poop?
Mia (casually): Nope. It was just a toot. It was a good one, though. Kind of relaxing. Like Yoga.

My Crappy Day

Lots of crappy stuff happened today. Nothing major, but little, niggly, crappy stuff. I sent Jenny and the girls to the neighborhood pool so I could work this morning. They showed up at the door 10 minutes after they left because the pool was closed because of some strange chemical imbalance. Mia took it as a personal affront and spent the next several hours moaning about how it wasn't fair. Well, most of the next several hours. She spent some of that time fighting with her sister and some of that time crying because I didn't plan the right lunch.

I'm tired. I need a vacation from summer vacation. And we're only in week 2. . .

Pleh.

And then there was the news that my beautiful and beloved personal trainer has been promoted and is leaving my gym to become the fitness manager at another location. He told me today, and I swear to you, it was all I could do not to cry. How pathetic is that? I really like the guy he's set me up with, and change is good, and blah, blah, blah. But I'm really, really, really going to miss Russell. Not to mention his fine, fine ass.

Sigh.

My favorite image of the week

I read a blog called b.rox by a guy who lives in Mid-City New Orleans. The writer, a guy named Bart, has become a somewhat reluctant community leader in post-Katrina New Orleans. He works at a university in NO and his wife is a public school teacher. They live in a predominately minority area, and they're trying to stay there. But few of their neighbors returned after the storm, and the neighborhood, as I understand it, is still in pretty bad shape.

His entries are sometimes funny, sometimes painful, but always insightful. It's been a rough couple of years for Bart, but it's people like him who are keeping New Orleans alive.

That was a long introduction to the following excerpt from his 5/31 entry:

On our side of the street, two teenage boys are lounging atop a car. They’re acting all thuggish and hard, as teenage boys are wont to do, but they’re playing Connect Four. That cracks me up.

I just love this. This is what New Orleans means to me. It is a city of such dichotomy that it's hard to get your head around it sometimes. But the mental image of two tough thugs on top of a car playing a kids' game is going to stick with me for a long time.

Sensitive Issues

If you're reading this, you probably know what I do for a living. And many of you do the same thing. While I wouldn't say it's a passion, creating educational materials (that's mainly textbooks and testing materials, for those of you not up on the industry jargon) is definitely a good gig that allows me a great deal of flexibility--and the money's not bad, either. Every once in a while I get to work on a project that I believe is really effective and meaningful, but for the most part, most of the big publishers are producing the same mediocre stuff under different titles. As they try to maximize profits by meeting the needs of a huge audience, they often miss the mark completely.

One of the big issues in educational publishing is "sensitivity." It's been an issue as long as I've been in the business. For a long time now certain topics have been off limits. Obviously, you can't write stories about sex and violence. You can't write about religious holidays or Halloween because someone might be offended. Minorities and the elderly must be shown in a positive light--they can't be depicted as criminal or feeble, respectively. Children on bikes must always wear helmets and people in cars must have on their seat belts. Physical handicaps must be depicted with regularity, but, for the most part, the handicap must not be an issue. Fictional characters must represent people from a variety of ethnic and social groups. Magic and magical creatures are completely off limits, as are witches, ghosts, demons, and vampires; although, strangely, trolls and goblins are okey dokey.

There are some sensitivity issues that might surprise you. Children must not be depicted playing cards or using dice as a part of a board game--because cards and dice can be used in gambling. In math activities, children may use number cubes, but you may never ever call them dice. Children shouldn't be depicted consuming foods of little nutritional value, such as ice cream, candy, or chips. And they definitely shouldn't drink cola. Many publishers try to stay away from anthropomorphism although some will allow talking animals in stories for Kindergarten and first grade.

Again, these are issues I've been aware of for a long time; they're part of the educational publishing culture, so to speak, and they don't surprise me any more. At least they didn't surprise me until I received a document from a client today that left me almost speechless. In addition to the things I've mentioned above, and a bevy of other similar issues, the following are off limits:
* References to animals mating (Hmmm. That's going to make teaching life sciences a little tricky, but I'm not working on science right now, so okay. I resolve to avoid writing about mating animals!)
* People throwing up (Frankly, this doesn't come up much in the materials I've worked on, but still, this one surprised me. Does some group have religious objections to throwing up? Is it political? I don't get it!)
* Embarrassing words, such as "breast," "brassiere," and (I'm not making this up) "toilet" (What the hell?)
* Physical unattractiveness (such as obesity) as the focus of a selection if the issue is not resolved positively
* Men wearing earrings
* Biographies about people shown to have led less than exemplary lives (Whom does that leave, exactly?) or about living people who may not continue to lead exemplary lives (I'd pull out my crystal ball for that one, but I'm pretty sure crystal balls are off limits, too.)

But here's my absolute favorite "sensitive issue" from the new list:
* Classification of people as animals (e.g., "People, like other animals, need food to live.")
Seriously? How can this be a "sensitive issue"? People *are* animals. Where's the controversy?

These things make me insane. I completely understand that in order to stay in business, educational publishers have to sell textbooks. And in order to sell textbooks, publishers have to make sure they're not pissing anyone off. But when we get to the point that we're avoiding actual basic facts, like the fact that people are animals, in mass market products, I don't really see the point.

Missed Opportunities

I have official confirmation. The rumors are true. My beautiful and talented FedEx guy has gotten married. Work-at-home moms all over Southwest Austin are in mourning.

Why? Just Why?

Despite the bizarre portrait on the cover, I thought I wanted this CD:



In fact, I've been thinking I wanted it for a while. Tony Bennett with Sting? Cool! James Taylor? Oh yeah! k.d. lang? Definitely! But when I went to amazon.com to place my order this evening, I was stopped dead in my (mouse)tracks. Tony Bennett and Celine Dion? Shitbucket!! What am I going to do now? I simply can not, will not, must not purchase anything by Celine Dion. I *KNOW* some people really like her. Yes, I'm sure she's very talented, blah, blah, blah. And if I'd never actually seen her move or heard her speak, I might be able to live with it. But I have and I can't.

Sooooo, if I'm serious about this Tony Bennett thing, I'm going to have to pull myself together, make a flying leap into the new millenium (yeah, I know I'm running a couple years late), and learn how to buy individual tunes online. But frankly, I'm still recovering from figuring out how to get the free podcasts of Fresh Air and This American Life. Bleh. Anyone know a teenager who'd do it for me? Without bitching about Tony Bennett?

Or maybe I should just forget about it and go listen to some old Lyle Lovett.

The State of the (local) Media

I present to you the following "story," which was posted on KXAN's website Sunday evening. I'm posting the story in its entirety, completely unedited or excerpted.

*The Austin Symphony Serves Up The Sounds For Mother's Day*
May 13, 2007 10:05 PM

Sunday several Austin families came out to celebrate Mother's Day at the Austin Symphony.
The annual outdoor concert featured some well known tunes and musical numbers.
The concert was held at Zilker's Hillside Theatre.

That's it. I happened across this on Sunday evening, and I've been thinking about it ever since. Why did the "journalists" at KXAN post this on their website? The story is neither accurate, well-written, nor is it of any interest whatsoever.

Let's start with accuracy. The Austin Symphony did not play at Zilker Park on Mother's Day. The Austin Symphonic Band did. Different organizations altogether. I recognize that this distinction is not important to anyone other than the members of the two separate organizations (and probably more important to the actual Austin Symphony Orchestra since they, as professional musicians, probably don't appreciate being compared to a bunch of wannabes), but the fact remains that the subject of the story is inaccurate. The "several families" bit is misleading too--unless they were really, really big families, as there were several hundred people there. I'd estimate there were 350 to 400 on the hillside this year. There are only two other facts presented in the story: music was played (true) and the concert was at the Zilker Hillside Theatre (also true). So, this article, such as it is, is 50% wrong.

But let's move away from the accuracy to another journalistic issue: quality of writing. Whoever wrote this only had to generate three sentence and a headline, and this is the best he or she could give us? "The annual outdoor concert featured some well known tunes and musical numbers." Yep, we played tunes and musical numbers? You didn't know we had it in us, did you? Which did you like best? Myself, I preferred playing the tunes.

Finally, why the hell did they even post this story? There was, in effect, NO story. There was not even a picture that might make it an interesting human interest space filler.

The more I think about this (and clearly, the fact that I'm thinking about it at all is probably good evidence that I'm avoiding something much more important), the more flabbergasted I am. It makes me wonder what the real purpose of local "news" coverage is.

I love all the nature in my backyard (owls, hummingbirds, various other birds, butterflies, etc.) and I've worked hard to attract all that nature TO my backyard. But today's nature sighting has left me considering a different approach. Namely, a cement highrise in the middle of a busy cement city. This is what we discovered in a tree in the backyard today:

I don' t know if you can tell from the photo, but it's a four-foot long rat snake. Here's a close-up of his/her head. I'm moving to Manhattan. Or maybe the Antarctic. ASAP.

Dear Everyone Who Lives In My House,

Have you ever noticed how when you open the refrigerator door, you always find things in the same place? Beverages are on the top shelf; everything in tubs (margarine, cream cheese, yogurt, etc) is on the second shelf next to the eggs; cheese and lunchmeats are in the drawer; leftovers are on the third shelf; bread products (tortillas included!) are on the forth shelf; fruit is in the fruit draw; vegetables are in the veggie drawer; condiments (i.e., everything in jars and bottles) are in the door.

Easy peasy, right? Everytime you open the door, you know right where to look for what you want. Amazingly, you grasp the inherent order when you are LOOKING for something, but it completely escapes you when it comes time to put something back. How can that be?

I know I don't have to rearrange the damn refrigerator every single day. I realize it's my choice to do it and we'd all live if I left it in disarray. But come on, people, how freaking hard would it be to put something back where you found it? Even you, orderly little German girl. You can spend 2 minutes each evening pairing up our shoes and lining them up in size order every evening, but you can't put the ketchup back in the empty spot in the door? You can do it. I know you can!

Sincerely,
Me

CREEPY!!!!

Yep. That's the theme of my week. C R E E P Y! It all started with a bizarre passive agressive e-mail from my longtime kinda stalker. If you know me well, you know the story, and I'm not going to rehash it here. But suffice it to say, those of you who helped me compose my response, that he didn't reply to it. I'm hoping that whole phase of my life is tied up with a bow--all official- like. (YIKES!)
(edited: I've just returned to revisit the above paragraph because if my alleged longtime kinda stalker were to read this, the wording would be unnecessarily cruel. in truth, he never technically stalked me--it was just an awkward and one-sided friendship. However, I decided on second thought to leave it as is, because in the event he does read this, he might be stalking me after all, and that changes everything. . .)

But that's not the creepiest thing that happened at the Czarnecki house his week. No it's not! However, since I can never tell a short story, I'll have to provide a little background.

A couple of weeks ago, Davy, the girls, and I were out trying to fly a kite when we discovered a big patch of milkweed. I thought it would be fun to see if we could find piece with a couple of monarch eggs on it that the we could raise and release. I spied a piece with an egg, picked it, and took it home. Little did I know, the plant was host to several already hatched microscopic caterpillars and we ended up with seven of the suckers. It might not sound like that many, but until you've tried to keep seven hungry monarch caterpillars supplied with fresh milkweed, I respectfully ask you to withhold your judgement!

In order to raise the seven cats, which turned out to be at different points in their development, I had to go out and buy several additional containers. I've also been making daily trips to random fields to gather more milkweed. Finally, yesterday, we had our first pupation! The two larger caterpillars attached themselves to the top of the container and formed the tell-tale "J" that monarchs make before they split off their skin for the last time and form their chrysallis. We were actually able to watch one of them do it, and it was bizarre, to say the least. The hanging caterpillar writhes and wiggles and pulses for about five minutes as its skin splits off. Then the caterpillar innards emerge in a gelatinous green glop that somehow hardens into a glittering chrysalis over the next hour or so.

Now, maybe you think that's the creepy part, but you'd be wrong. While those two big guys were forming their "J" and shedding their skins, a much smaller caterpillar started the same process. He attached himself to the top of the container and formed his "J" and . . . then . . . nothing. Normally, if you approach a monarch caterpillar in the "J," he will wiggle and do what appear to be little caterpillar sit-ups. But not this guy. He just hung there. After awhile, his "J" became and "I" and we were pretty sure he was dead. We considered a few possible explanations for his demise (maybe he attached himself too soon and he still needed to eat, but he couldn't move so he starved?) and then decided to check the Internet. After a few fruitless Google searches ("monarch caterpillar J too soon" "little monarch caterpillar J") I finally hit gold with "monarch caterpillar J dead." It turns out there's a parasitic fly called the tachnid fly that lays its eggs on the skin of very young butterfly and moth larvae. The resulting fly larvae burrow into the caterpillar's skin and wait there. They feed on non-essential tissues and grow with the host. The host continues to live normally until the tachinid fly larvae begin to feed on essential tissues and kill the host. Somehow the larvae cue the caterpillar to begin his pupation early. After the caterpillar dies, they emerge from the caterpillar's body.

After I read this, I immediately removed the dead hanging caterpillar from the communal container and stuck him in something else, just in case. And this morning we awoke just in time to watch as the tachnid maggot emerged from the caterpillar's dead body. Blech, blech, blech. Yes, I understand all about the circle of life, but that, my friends, was truly creepy.

Can't Stop Laughing. . . .

I posted the following on a message board I frequent. My sentiment was, as I think you'll recognize, somewhat facetious.

"I've reached an all-time personal low. Yes, I know it's completely pathetic.Yes, I know I'm part of the problem.But I actually just logged on to the internet to find out whether Anna Nicole Smith's daughter's paternity results have been announced.I can't believe the depths to which I have sunk."

Okay, well, it was mostly facetious. I did actually log on to find out the results (which have not yet been posted), and I am not proud of it. But as for it being my all-time personal low? Well that may have been an exaggeration.

In any event, I received the following response almost immediately:

"You sound bored with your life. I was telling my dd yesterday that as she goes through this life, she needs to live it not just sit back and watch it go by but participate in it. I suggested keeping a list, or jar, or whatever, with a list of things that she wants to do and picking one thing each year and accomplishing that thing. Maybe that way she would spend more time trying to accomplish the things that she wants to do and therefore will be living her life. Just a thought."

Oh my. I guess I need to go get a jar. Or whatever.

Damn, it's been an exhausting week at the Czarnecki house, and I just realized it's only Wednesday.

1 really sick kitty + 1 depressed and unhappy exchange student + 1 oversensitive 7-year old in existential crisis + a shitload of oak pollen = 1 tired me.

Home again!

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.