Spring Cleaning...Of My Head

My brain has been binging on random outrage for months now, so it's time to purge. I really wish there were a way to organize these little bulletins, but there isn't. It's like a cerebral minefield, so put on your flak jacket and step carefully!

*I am absolutely certain that there is no reason to have any more media coverage of the following individuals (and it pains me to even list them by name, so I will refrain from even typing their more commonly used monikers here): A.N. Smith, Brittney S., and Rosie O'D. and her supposed "feud" with Donald T. Stop it immediately. These "personalities" are not news. Good Heavens; enough is enough already. I think one of them is dead, even. Let. It. Go.

*In the newspaper there was an ad for a pet store and guinea pigs were being sold for THIRTY-FOUR DOLLARS! This is unequivocally absurd. When I was eighteen, I worked in the pet department of a discount store and we sold guinea pigs for EIGHT DOLLARS AND FORTY-NINE CENTS. Now, granted, this was almost thirty years ago. Okay. But, in that time, have guinea pigs been bred so extensively that they are now FOUR TIMES BETTER? What, are they self-cleaning? Do they...oh, I don't know...SPEAK PORTUGESE? OR GUINEA? Do they no longer pee constantly, requiring you to clean the cedar shavings of their home almost daily? Because, let me tell you: I owned, in rapid succession, three seriously cute guinea pigs (Eric, Cory, and Toby), but they were definitely NOT worth $34. And, let me also say this: I had no idea that ferrets, which are distinctly skinny, hideous-looking animals which are basically snaky, stretched-out guinea pigs, are horrifically overpriced at an alarming $129! This would be laughable, were it not a tragic case of robbery!

*The neighbor women behind us moved away. They did not inform me of exactly when their last day of residency was. Today, as I was performing the ritualistic Removal of the Bra While Still Wearing the Shirt maneuver at my back kitchen window, and was at the Triumphant Flinging of the Brassiere from Under the Shirt move, I caught the eye of our new neighbor who was outside on his deck, inspecting his new backyard. Clearly, a little notice from the previous tenants would have been in order . One never gets a second chance to make a first impression.

*If The Angel of Death continues to "stand behind Alberto Gonzales", I hope he gives him a good, hard shove.

*Now that it's Easter, I'd better be seeing a helluva lot more bunnies on tv. I think bunnies in general are a vastly underused source of marketing. Seriously, now. What is cuter than a bunny? And don't say "a baby." I've seen plenty of ugly babies in my day, all redfaced and squish-headed. And you know you have, too. Being a highschool teacher is no picnic in that department: students are always bringing me their babies or pictures of their babies. First off, I get irritated sometimes because I know darn good and well that I'm paying for that baby in some capacity. Secondly, I have to gloss over my own disappointment that the student has made That Mistake and now has been derailed in his or her education/life goals and may never get back on track, but here is this blameless child and I have to cluck and coo over it. Thirdly, if this baby is really and truly ugly--and some are--I have to say something nice! So, I say, "Oh my! Look at those little rosebud lips!" Or, "Look at you! Just look at you!" Or, "Aren't you just something!"

But, I digress. I was talking about bunnies. And bunnies are just cute. Why aren't they used more often? For like, lotion or fabric softener or bubble bath or blankets or something? Even at Easter, we don't see enough of them. My boys know I love bunnies, and so whenever we begin talking at dinner and the conversation runs awry into tense territory, like why their room is such a hellhole, suddenly Sam will yell out "bunnies!" And usually, I will get a far-off smile on my face and the whole diatribe just melts away. Seriously. Try it. Right now, think of something unpleasant. Got it? Now just look here:

(photo courtesy of http://www.cuteoverload.com/)

See what I mean? Who doesn't love a bunny? The word even looks cute.

*Today, I was watching "Meet the Press." One of the few Republicans I respect was on, Arlen Specter of Pennsylvania. Arlen is the ranking member of the Senate Judiciary committee and is one of the biggies who is trying to get Harriet "almost a Supe" Meiers and Karl "Turdblossom" Rove to have to testify under oath and in public about their role in the firings of the attorneys general. Arlen is attempting to broker a compromise. I wish he would have attempted to broker a compromise between his sportcoat and his tie this morning. Arlen, honey, pink striped cravats with foulard print do not harmonize well with a burnt sienna tweedy plaid coat. I'm telling you, I almost could not concentrate on Sen. Specter's astute analyses with all that going on. I am so serious. Bad fashion is just so...overwhelming. And for me to go all ADD when politics is at stake...well, you know it was bad.

*I don't get "dog people." And please don't try and make me. Dogs are worky. You might just as well have a kid. At least Jared and Sam, now that they are older, do not have to be taken outside and watched. And I do not have to hire a babysitter for them when I am away for extended periods of time. And they had the added bonus of not shedding. Ever. And although Sam used to randomly reach up and squeeze breasts though he was never ever breastfed, neither of the boys embarrassed me by burying any part of their body into anyone else's privates. EmilyCat and TravisCat do not have to be walked, do not bark, and do not have to be kennelled. I can leave for a week and just put out extra food and water. And while I do not enjoy having a shitbox in my house, it is better than having to take them out in foul weather and/or having a wet animal in my home. I like most dog people when they realize that I am not one and accomodate that fact. Non-cat people don't have to worry at my house: Emily and Travis hate everyone who is not The Dept.

Okay! I think I'm done now. This is so much better than paying for a therapist. Or at least I've heard.