For reasons quite all my own, I do not currently feel like keeping a public journal. As such, and I cannot believe I'm saying this, this is now a "friends only" journal.

If I need a place to say things publicly, I've got options. Right now, this space isn't one of them.

I no longer write.

Nothing for myself, nothing for others. No fiction, no non-. No essays, no emails. I no longer carry a notebook. Hell, I don't even carry a pen. And this place? This place is a fucking joke.

There is a tattoo parlor on 2nd Avenue somewhere below 5th Street that also sells jewelery. Some years back, while Effie was checking out a pair of earrings, I flipped through a book of their drawings and found a snow leopard descending a tree. In thinking about tattoos tonight, I realized what I wanted for my left arm and also realized that this is not the time for it. Ergo, the one I'm getting now goes on my left calf. As I thought that, I remembered the leopard. Et voilà.

First, the Panorama at the Queens Museum of Art may well be the single coolest thing in all of New York City.

Second, even late, these are some damned good brownies.

He's 13.

I bought a bicycle this morning, ready to ride. It's shiny and I like it.

I also bought (finally) a kitchen table, some assembly required. The table is together. The chairs will be done this evening whilst I sit on my ass and watch Firefly with my son.

States Ban Hunting of Live Animals on Internet

At first I thought it was a sloppy headline, fodder for CJR's The Lower case. Go on and click.

If we, citizens, do not support our artists, then we sacrifice our imagination on the altar of crude reality and we end up believing in nothing and having worthless dreams.
-- Yann Martel

I need a new tattoo. I want your suggestions for what it should be. Where will be somewhere on my left arm or on my left calf.

Happy Birthday to slinkr, a few days late because I couldn't go near LJ on her actual birthday.

Happy Birthday to pseudonymous.

And, of course, many happy returns on the day.

Yahoo has this on its home page:



If you don't really care to click, and who can blame you, let me highlight Mike Krumboltz's sage advice:

I don't recommend dining exclusively at chain restaurants, but it's a fact that free refills are as effective an aphrodisiac as oysters.

For the record, the road into my pants does not run through Applebee's.

On the highway, it ain't called "draftin'."

or

If you're going to ride my ass, the least you could do is pull my hair.

Two girlfriends out of town makes for a quiet cellphone and an easy early bed time.

Today I returned a set of sheets, returned a belt, picked up A's birthday present, bought a car adapter for my iPod, found out I don't get my free phone until the end of September, bought a garage door & opener & arranged for them to be installed at the house and picked up my motorcycle from the shop, fresh from its 600-mile service.

Bought a garage door for the house? you astute types might be wondering. But, dude, you don't live there no more.

True enough, but I do own half of it and that is not going to change. For as long as we own the house, I will take half the difference between her mortgage and my rent and invest it in capital improvement projects. Even after the garage door, I've still got 45% of my house budget left.

Finally, let us all share a brief moment of silence for the passing of my favorite pair of pants.

Because I read my flist in reverse chron, I saw this first at klwalton, who got it from wordweaverlyn, who it from sagefemme11.

Okay this is called FIRST REACTION ...type what comes to your mind first whenever you hear these 35 words.. don't think and don't go back and change. .doesn't matter how random just type it!

Of course, having seen it three times, I can hardly call my reactions my first ones but I tried not to think about it too much.

( cut because i care )

Yesterday morning, I had what can only be described as a moment of actual optimism. I know. Weird, right?

A little over three years ago, an offhand remark inspired a story which ignited a lifelong friendship.

Happiest of birthdays to you, dramama. Lady, we are still young enough ...

Yesterday, Robert Menendez, Democrat and the junior senator from the great state of New Jersey, voted in favor of S.J. Res 12, a joint resolution proposing an amendment to the Constitution of the United States authorizing Congress to prohibit the physical desecration of the flag of the United States. I had sent him an impassioned and, I believe, eloquent plea, literally imploring him to vote Nay, to stand against those who put the symbols of freedom above actual freedom. I guess too few of us sent such letters.

I should hardly be surprised because last year, while a member of the House of Representatives, Mr. Menendez voted in favor of H.J. Res 10, the House version of the same madness.

I will be sending him a note expressing my extreme disappointment. I'm idly tempted to go burn a flag outside of his N.J. offices. (I'm seeing something like a candlelight vigil, with a group of people burning those little, hand-held, flag-n-stick jobbies in place of tapers and votives.) I mean, what else is a boy to do? Vote for his war-supporting opponent in November? Menendez voted in favor of Kerry's defeated amendment to redeploy out of Iraq (you'll have to scroll down), for goodness' sake. It makes me sad.

And it makes me sad because, at heart, this isn't even an issue about freedom of expression. Free speech, patriotism, gay marriage, the war, reproductive rights, the ten commandments, shibboleths all.

Step back from the issues for a moment and you can see that there is one truly frightening theme that underlies all of them. Who keeps the power while an empire dies? Where will that power reside as the remnants of the empire struggle to rebuild?

That's right, kiddlies. We are looking at an old-fashioned power grab. I'm not (just) talking about the battles between the parties. No. The very branches of government are at war with each other.

The current administration has been on an extended campaign to expand the power of the executive: Signing statements on legislation, sending low-level flunkies to testify before Congress with little more to say beyond "I am not going to discuss that issue" and a desired line-item veto are but the most public of indicators. Congress does not like it and is kicking back.

It's not just the executive with which the legislative is at war. While accusations of "activist" jurists tend to be leveled by cons at libs, the underlying idea is that the judicial branch arrogates to itself more power than was given it in the constituion.

And it's not like this stuff is hidden. About S.J. Res. 12, resolution sponsor Orrin Hatch (R-UT) said, "What we would be doing is sending a message to the [Supreme] Court. 'You can not usurp the power of the Congress of the United States¹!'"

All you need is eyes to see. Take solace in this: if we have to be sacked by barbarians from the north, at least our Visigoths will bring the BC Bud.

---
¹ - In 1989 and 1990, the SCOTUS decided that a law passed by Congress that outlawed flag-burning violated the First Amendment.

Sensitive fellow, no? Trolls amuse me.

Whatever else I do, I tend to sacrifice sleep to do it. That can work for short distances but it is not a strategy for a marathon. I am often physically and emotionally exhausted. Stands to reason that lack of sleep might be a proximate cause.

I made myself a vow. Lights out by 11pm latest, 10:30 for preference, at least when not being social. With the alarm going off at 6:30, that's a real night's sleep. Exercise, so I'm told, is also good for what ails me. But if I don't do it in the morning, I don't do it. Part of the hope behind this vow is to get me up early enough and with enough energy to exercise, specifically to lift weights.

Last night, I was asleep by 10. This morning, I woke at 6:30 and I exercised.

So why have I been tetchy all day?

Saw this on a bumper sticker:

Fermez la Bush