i know, i know. there are people out there who periodically fast to cleanse their systems or whatever other fashionable euphemism is used these days. they, of course, really don't fast. they still drink water, or juice, or something. however, it being the holiest day of the year for us RSPs, i am fasting. as in, eating nothing. drinking nothing. indulging in thoughts of why i am such a sorry human being and hoping i will do better next year.

now, anyone who has known me for at least 3 seconds knows that i apologize for everything. i am sorry probably were my first words. i apologize for my mistakes, i apologize for other people's mistakes. i apologize for natural disasters. you name it; it is probably somehow my fault. years of therapy might improve this situation, of course, but i doubt it.

anyway, i am a cranky, hungry SOB. and my BC, who is not fasting, tried to stick a giant blue lollipop in my face a little while ago. i think she was trying to be nice.

i am sorry for refusing it.

tomorrow is yom kippur. i have stuffed myself full of my favorite vietnamese food and am now close to vomiting. (and no, i don't intend to vomit. i don't belong on one of those sort of boards.) i won't be in shul, though. i have workmen coming over, and i have tons of work to do. i will set aside time, as i like to do, to contemplate the year and think of ways in which i can be a better person. (anyone who has suggestions, feel free to let me know. i might even pay some attention to said suggestions.) it does remind me of past yom kippur holidays where i spent the time unusually.

one year, i made the fatal error of not checking the calendar before my husband bought plane tickets and game tickets to see the Cleveland Indians play in their old stadium, just before the new one was completed. upon realizing said error, there was really nothing else i could do except sit in a cold, dank ballpark, smelling food all around me, and praying. pretty unorthodox, but hey, gotta give me credit for following through. by the time i was to break fast, we were in a Sfuzzi Restaurant and i was nearly eating the table cloth.

then there was the year that i also neglected to buy tickets because i had a job that somehow could not afford me to take the day off. so into work i went. at the time, i inhabited a windowless office in the US Department of Education that i shared with a gentleman who thought he was essentially smarter and better than the rest of us. that alone would be penance for any evil done during the year you'd think, right? wrong. for i allowed said southern gent the ability to play the country music station all day long. i don't believe in hell as a concept, incidentally, but if there is one, then they are surely playing WMZQ there.)

let's hope next year is a happy, healthy, and peaceful one.

something i could love. or maybe something could love 😉 (just kidding.)

morrissey's on the line.

“mommy, do you know who got me this doll?” BC yelled from her room.

“which one, honey?” i replied.

“the one with the bottle and the green clothes and the american eyes,” she replied.

i like the sound of that. the american eyes.

i read this and it brought back an odd memory.

when i was in college (eons ago, in the '80s), i too, had the same aversion to having christ pushed on me in pamphlets on campus, especially since i am a red sea pedestrian (or an RSDenizen, as would put it, which would require that i grow gills and live in the water.) one day, though, i observed something that i found useful later on. a friend, who also hated being pestered by the zealots, was approached by one of the aforementioned freaks. he was pelted with many invasive, religious questions. finally, exasperated, he turned and exclaimed, “jesus was a test tube baby.” i am not sure whether they thought he was insane or they were offended by the statement, but after that, no one bothered him again.

the rabbi from the conservative shul called me back. she told me that they have a lot of intermarried couples there and that they have been opening up a bit because no one should be ostracized for the different family traditions that exist in their home.

i told her how she had made a huge impression on BC when we went to a tot shabbat a few months earlier. and how BC wanted a rabbi on her birthday cake. (i put hello kitty on it instead.) the rabbi cracked up.

i think that's a good sign, don't you?

10) i have not had to listen to lee greenwood sing “g-d bless the USA”

9) i watched BC run through GapKids, pointing at all the decapitated mannequins, screaming “look, mama, look at the headless baby! look at the headless little boy.” etc. (okay. so i am a little twisted. but so is she.)

8) i've only looked up a few times when i hear planes overhead.

7) BC and I were hysterical as she tried on hats in bloomingdales. ladies hats. a woman who overheard us giggle remarked, “you better watch out for her, mom. she loves fashion.” i informed her that this child is clearly my grandmother reincarnated. she has never met a shoe, dress, or perfume she didn't like. (yet.)

6) we got out of the disney store unscathed AND with a birthday present for leah, to boot.

5) after aforementioned purchase, i found my credit card, which i couldn't find in the disney store and so had to use a different one.

4) we talked to grandma and grandpa, who are both well, wacky, and contemplating travel.

3) BC painted the loveliest watercolor. i couldn't tell you what it is (oops, there go my mommy credentials – i guess i am supposed to be able to know in my heart exactly what everything she creates is), but i love it and i want to frame it.

2) BC is napping. ::Doing Happy Dance::

and the #1 reason why today has been good so far…

1) no one seems to have gotten hurt. to paraphrase those brilliant bards at Faber College (and who out there knows THAT reference?), “peace is good.”

in my research on the smithsonian national museum of the american indian, i have hit a weird snag. i have info all about the welcome center (as the museum will not be completed until 2004), but no one actually has decided what the address is for the place. apparently, this is a situation. meanwhile, my little publishing tool needs an address and zip to calculate the neighborhood, etc. since it is between 3rd and 4th on independence ave; and since it is near VOA, i think i will dub it 300 Independence Ave, SW and give it the zip of VOA (whenever i find that.)

jeez. can't anyone in this town make ANY sort of decisions?

if i ever disappear on people mid-IM, or if i don't seem to respond to e-mail, it isn't because i am having any sort of hissy fit or am simply being rude. it is simply because my #@%#@$%@#% IBM Stinkpad cuts out (cutting off my power supply), which, i believe, is due to the fact that the AC Adapter is fucked up. (hence, the aforementioned EBay auction entry.)

do not, under any circumstances, take it personally. unless, of course, you are scally.

(just kidding, scally. really.)