Monday Meh, Barking Up the Wrong Me Edition

This job thing is getting on my nerves...

funky, funky friday

Wow. Bubbaville has made the national news.

One of the incongruities that hits me, as an outsider in these parts, is the way these life-loving, God-fearing people can be SO FREAKING NASTY. Of course, as today's featured song illustrates, these sorts of vile, violent, and senseless crimes have been going on for probably as long as humans have been around. And I suddenly remember that not so long ago, in my own family up North, there occurred a family murder-suicide worthy of a murder ballad, too.

Wherever and whenever these events take place, the senselessness stuns us, draws us closer to our loved ones, and makes us grateful for each day we have together....

Keeping Abreast of Things

Squashed Boobs

I have a left boob and a right boob, but unlike Congressional left and right boobs, mine present a united front (particularly when squashed into a sports bra). When it comes to achieving the greater good, my left and right boob team up and get results, neither one taking more or less credit for their accomplishments. Also unlike political boobs, mine know when it's appropriate to keep a low profile, and when it's expedient to stand out and make a statement. There is nothing worse than boobs that get the wrong kind of attention, at the wrong time. Politicians could learn a lot from my boobs.

Tit-for-Tat

This week the Florida Primary featured a prominent display of boobs. Candidate Santorum sagged badly in the polls leading up to the race, and despite claiming the moral high ground, fell flat with only 13% of the votes cast. Gingrich, considered by many to be the biggest boob in the race because of his inflated ego, only came in second place, giving primary winner Romney the media spotlight. Gingrich and his supporters were uplifted, however, when Romney's "I don't care about the very poor" remark popped out during a CNN interview. No wonder the spirits of moderate Republicans are drooping, as it seems no candidate can measure up to their expectations. But any boob should realize that there's no such thing as one-size-fits-all, and lacking a stand-out contender, the Republicans seem likely to come up empty-handed in November's election.

These boobs should sue Komen for infringement.

Media attention snapped momentarily from the presidential race to a matter close to the hearts of many Americans regardless of political affiliation - breast cancer awareness. It was revealed that the Susan D. Komen Foundation, under pressure from an anti-abortion group, unhooked its backing for Planned Parenthood, a major provider of health services to low income women. This is not the first time Komen's tactics have raised eyebrows  -- the group has also made headlines for seeking financial restitution against lesser-endowed advocacy groups who adopt Komen's "for the cure" tag in their own fundraising drives. Mixing politics and women's health issues leaves a bad taste in the mouths of those who've lost loved ones to breast cancer, so many considered it a victory when Komen later announced a reversal of its decision. Still others are glad that Komen's questionable financial and policy tactics were exposed, and hope to nip partisan quibbling over the issue in the bud. (Boobs are people, my friends!)

I'm sure there were lots of other boobs in the news this week, but for now I think I've milked this topic for all I can.

Weinerdog Wednesday, Crank it Up edition

One of the delights seen during my last trip to Boston in August -- a hurdy-gurdy player with his weinerdog! It was like having my cake and eating it and having a weinerdog and hurdy-gurdy player to share it with!

monday meh

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
                   -- Langston Hughes, "Dreams"


Photo snapped at a local antique shop; don't worry, gentle readers - the bird is not real.

Weinerdog Wednesday, Auld Lang Dog edition

This braw lad is kilted up, hoping a wee bit o' haggis finds its way to his doggie bowl on this Burns Night.

Scottish poet Robert Burns was born on January 25, 1759. His songs and poems celebrated the Scottish countryside, romantic ideals, equality, and the rights of the common man. Some of his verse is remarkably relevant today, such as these lines from "Ode on General Washington's Birthday" --

Here's freedom to them that would read!
Here's freedom to them that would write!
There's nane ever feared that the truth should be heard
But they wham the truth would indite!

Funky Friday, Farewell to 2011 Edition

Sometimes the end of a calendar year finds me wistfully wondering where the time has gone, bemoaning the lack of accomplishments under my belt, and getting all introspective about missed opportunities and such. But frankly, I'm glad to see 2011 go, even if it means the Mayan Apocalypse is fast upon us. (Just please don't let me spend the last day of all time sitting in the customer lounge at the Volvo dealership while my suspension is getting repaired, ok?)

It's not that 2011 was a total wash. I had the opportunity to become more intimately acquainted with various local health care establishments, and lived to tell about it. Career-wise, I held the hands of 42 more summer institute participants as they immersed themselves in the latest research in our field - and in the New River. My travels took me to both coasts, and even to central Virginia where my new friends Billy and Apple live, along with their human. (So far, Billy's the only one I'll let sit on my lap, but that may change in 2012.)

Nevertheless, and in spite of all the things that could have but didn't go wrong in 2011, I'm more than ready to move on. And I don't necessarily believe that 2012 will be all bright and shiny and full of good fortune (I've learned that the best way to avoid being disappointed is to have very low expectations). Maybe I just like the idea that after midnight Saturday, I will have an entire year to get done all the things I put off doing this year. And that makes me feel rather optimistic. Almost giddy, even.

Here's wishing you an adequate New Year. 

'Twas the Post Before Xmas...

Merry holidays to all my blogging friends -- may your days be festive and funky, and your chocolate chip cookies be chunky. Mmmmm....

The intelli home is decked in lights and tinsel. Cookies are baked, stockings await stuffing, and intellikid and I still haven't had time to watch that Mr. Bean episode that means Christmas is truly here. I'm slow in getting the holiday spirit this year, maybe because I've been so frikkin' busy. Or maybe I'm in denial that another year has managed to zoom by....

Meanwhile, those presents aren't gonna wrap themselves.

Peace, joy, and love to you and yours!!!

Weinerdog Wednesday, Chanukah Edition

As Andy Borowitz says, let's celebrate this most American of holidays, when we celebrate burning oil we don't have.

Happy Chanukah, y'all.

I still can barely stand it...but...

Ok, so it's probably, definitely, bad form to bash a job that let me fly to San Diego for a conference last week and allowed me to finagle a weekend visit with my cousin who lives in Santa Monica. Still, the fact that my co-workers and I haven't had so much as a cost-of-living increase in the past 3 or 4 years, combined with the gradual paring away of benefits, makes me feel somewhat justified in taking a tiny bit of advantage of the so-called perks the job entails. And it wasn't all sunshine and beaches, ya know....

This is the view from my hotel balcony at the conference. The serene beauty of the Mission Bay marina at sunset, however, belies the harsh reality that at 4am an amorous and/or hungry sea lion barked just outside my hotel room.

The architecture geek in me was not disappointed with SoCal's iconic Art Deco and Spanish edifices. One night my group dined al fresco just across from the Gaslamp Theatre in downtown San Diego. A young woman played cello on the sidewalk, and the passers-by were entertaining, too.

I didn't have the foresight to arrive in San Diego a day early to enjoy some sightseeing, and it was already dark when my train for LA departed at 5:55pm last Friday evening. Aware that stunning coastal scenery was zipping by just outside my window, I consoled myself with overpriced beverages from the club car. It would have been cool if the trains were of the same vintage as the stations, but then it would've taken longer to make the trip.... 

My cousin works for the Getty, and has curated an exhibit in the LA Public Library downtown. The photo of the lobby and chandelier don't do justice to the fabulousity of this space, so use your imaginations.

"The Mexican Revolution Revealed" shows photography from the Revolution and civil war, and ends with some images that have been, er, adapted for more recent purposes. 

Hard to believe I was having breakfast on the beach last Sunday. This establishment had some unorthodox staff busing the tables, but at least they didn't hover over our shoulders waiting for us to finish.

This designer chicken coop is at the site of a non-profit organization that teaches horsemanship to at -risk teenage girls. Then again, as my cuz said, "all teenage girls are at-risk." We spent the afternoon at their open house. 

I always miss the mountains when I travel to East Coast cities. That wasn't so much of a problem out west, even if the peaks weren't as high or green as those in my backyard at home.

I wasn't prepared to like SoCal as much as I did. Even if I can't find a conference to go to out that way again, I may just have to return for a vacation one of these days. Whenever I have time for a vacation, that is.