Christmas in July?

One more instance of ranting, and I swear I'm done for the day. (ok, maybe just the afternoon.) I received an email from J.Crew informing me that they had begun their new Summer Sale. Awesome. So I cruised on over, looking for more flip flops (can you ever really have too many?) and maybe some pants for D. I was looking in the women's shirt section and I see this

And this

And then this

These items cost $79.99, $59.99, and $129.99, respectively. And all three are made of cashmere. Now, in the winter, when it is cold as balls outside, I love nothing more than a nice cashmere turtleneck sweater to keep out the howling wind. However, in the summer, when I start to sweat as soon as I exit the shower, and even linen can become stifling, cashmere is the last thing I want anywhere near my body. Especially since cashmere sheds when you sweat. So, in the above garments, your torso would appear to be a smurf, hirsute and furry, respectively. Thanks, but I'll pass. Cotton would be the four-season fabric. Take note, J.Crew.

While getting ready this morning, I was listening to NPR. (go WFPL!) And they had on there two stories that just rubbed me the wrong way. Ok, well, one pissed me off, the other just made me curious.

Numero un:
NPR story here.
At Camp Pendelton in California, marines are on trial for killing 24 Iraqi civilians in Haditha, 10 of which were women and children in November 2005. Apparently, infantrymen went through three houses searching for insurgents who had detonated a roadside IED and pretty much slaughtered those they encountered. The question now is why there wasn't a more thorough investigation of the killings by the battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Jeffery Chisani.

Brian Rooney of the Thomas Moore Law Center in Ann Arbor MI, a conservative christian firm representing Chisani pro bono, says that the Marines are devouring their own in this case and that the terrorists are laughing in their caves.

"One of the reasons we took this case is because we believe that it'll lead to marines hesitating on the battlefield because they won't have confidence in their chain of command [and] they won't have confidence that they'll be looked after if these allegations come up."

Now, I disagree. I am of the opinion that, when marines are faced with civilians, especially women and children, they should hesitate before firing. And if they do fire, they should have doubts that they will be "looked after," should allegations come up. Christ almighty.

Numero deux:
NPR story here.
I would like to state that I fully embrace my status as a left-wing liberal hippie-type, but I have a question with this one. Namely, that of legal standing. Ok, here goes: the ACLU is suing a subsidiary of Boeing (the jet people), saying that they helped fly suspected terrorists (prisoners) overseas on 70 flights as a part of the CIA's "extraordinary rendition" program. The ACLU further accuses the company of knowing that the prisoners would be tortured, and profiting from it. This is wrong.

Yes, profiting from torture is wrong. However, even the ACLU admits that this is the first time that it has brought a charges like this against a company like this. And even though every little bit of me wants to believe that the CIA lets everybody all up in its business, I know it just isn't true. So the liklihood that this subsidiary, Jeppesen Dataplan, even knew who it was transporting on the 70 flights, much less why, is pretty slim. And besides (dear god, I sound exactly like my parents! oy, shoot me now) what business is it of the ACLU what Jeppesen Dataplan is doing?

On the flip side, (back to my hippie ways!) doesn't the CIA have access to government planes for all its transportin' needs? Or do the whips and chains come at a discounted rate with the Jeppesen Dataplan 70-flight package?

Did I mention that I had the (graciously given) opportunity to attend this year's Barnstable Brown Derby Gala? Well, I did, and I got to see a heap of celebrities, (attendees can be found here) but the real highlight of my evening was a trip to the bathroom. First of all, there was a bar (!) in the pool house that held the bathroom, which almost made up for the squishy toilet seat. But what made my head spin (other than the many bourbon and cokes in my system, which were made with Woodford Reserve!) was the person standing in front of me in the line for the loo: THE KENTUCKY HAMMER. Yes, that's right, Mr. Darryl Isaacs, in the flesh! And due to the many drinks I had imbibed, I channeled my inner Jessica and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, I said, "Excuse me, but may I give you a hug? I just love you." AND HE SAID YES! After I hugged him, I introduced myself, as did he, and we shook hands. He was very polite. :)




Anyway, I'm dreaming today about cars - specifically, those of the hybrid and/or high gas mileage variety. I'm the next one to get a new car in the family (D got his Stratus almost a year ago) and I have decided that I shall try my damndest to get an Element. A green one. Mmm...green.

Time-Wasters

Oh, I do love the toys. I stumbled upon this one in Redbook magazine (I think) and I kind of wish I had requested one for Mother's Day. It's SuperMom from HappyWorker.com, and she comes with all sorts of cool accessories.

And then there are awesome t-shirts from Noisebot.com. These are my three favorites, but I especially love the orange juice one.

Another really cool (and sometimes cheaper, since they run $10 sales for members) site is Threadless.com.

DesignHerGals.com is pretty spiffy, too. I go there and play around when I'm not busy at work - it's kind of like a grown-up version of paper dolls or something. For example, here's me in an outfit that I would love to have and LPT looking much cleaner than she usually does:

Speaking of LPT, this weekend we had to go to the grocery to get ingredients for cobbler. She chose to wear, on the 87-degree day, the following: tank top, shorts, tennis shoes (all fine) Speedo water wings and a pink knit toboggan with sequins.

D, LPT, and myself went for an idyllic drive on Sunday after doing some shopping and fountain diving at The Summit, "a shopping experience with amenities that reflect the needs of the mind, body and spirit." Basically, it's the mall turned inside-out, so it's a million more times difficult to navigate with a stroller. After that, we decided to take advantage of the fact that we were in the middle of nowhere and go visit the newest development taking up good empty space, Norton Commons. Now, Norton Commons is not your typical sprawling subdivision, with gigantic housing monstrosities that are all exactly alike (or punched from the same 3 or 4 molds), garages that will hold 4 cars or more, and huge circular driveways that will deposit passengers right in front of cut-leaded-glass doors.

No, Norton Commons is a different demon altogether. Remember Mayberry? It was a quaint little town where everything was within walking distance, and everyone knew everyone else. Homes were right next to stores, and porches were right up on the sidewalks, so that you could carry on conversations with passers-by without shouting. People were friendly, and smiled and said hello. Everyone was white, and the most offensive criminal was the town drunk who locked himself up regularly. Women knew their places, and no one ever had to leave town for anything. Who wouldn't want to live there?

Well, my friend, times have changed. Personally, it would creep me out to live in an area where the only people I saw every day looked exactly like me, not to mention the damage it would do to my socio-political outlook. The subdivision looks like a movie set, but unsettleingly so, like The Truman Show. The houses are pretty, but ultimately, there is a falseness about it, and the idea of never needing to leave your neighborhood would drive me berserk. There were already restaurants, shops, a dermatologist, plans for a drugstore, a market, a pediatrician, a dry cleaner, and probably anything else you could need. I'll admit, not using the car is green, but using that subdivision land to farm and instead living downtown where that community element already exists would be greener.

But what would they do if they ran into a black person?

How everything turns away/ Quite leisurely from the disaster

Yeah, the title means nothing, refers to nothing. Well, not exactly. I read this article (merci beaucoup to blurbomat for this one) titled Facist America in 10 Easy Steps by Naomi Wolf. And I kind of feel like Mel Gibson in that movie with Julia Roberts where he was this conspiracy theory nut (c'mon, he put combination locks on his coffee - everyone knows you only need to lock down the popsicles and beer) but folks, read that article and you will have flashes of Nazi Germany, East Berlin, Stalin's Russia, and any other so-called "closed society" history can present. As I type this, I fully expect the office door to come tumbling down thanks to severe kicking and then they will haul me off to Guantanamo.

Musee de beaux arts -- W.H. Auden

About suffering they were never wrong,
The old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

And I think I'll order one of these for every family member:

I think I may start a magazine. Everything in it will be under $20, except for one section. That section will be titled "Things to Love and Admire and Think Seriously About Before Purchasing," and that is where I will put the $117 jeans that are "a steal" because they are Paper Denim & Cloth and are on Bluefly for 40% off. Or perhaps the Gucci shoes from the same site that are also 40% off and are now an affordable (!?!?) $592. Call me cheap, but I think these would do just as nicely, and I could by this, this, this, this, this, this and this with the leftover.

Sorry. I've just been browsing a few of the glossies lately, and it seems that whenever I see some item that I like, it winds up costing WAY over $100, and frankly, my dear, that is not in the budget for multiple items of clothing. In the words of my mother (who always knows just how to put things), "Well, I may as well just not come home if I were to buy a $400 hat."

But as for something that isn't $100, (but unfortunately does fall into the over $20 category, so it does require Some Serious Thought) I think these totally rock:They're from a company called TOMS Shoes, and what's especially spiffy about them is that when you purchase a pair for $38 (yes? no?) the company gives a pair just like 'em to a [South American] kid in need. Perhaps Mama just found a gift for Mother's Day...

All I can say is "Piffle." One of my best pals, TL, and her hubby, SweetBoobs!, are in the market for a house. They're discovering that this can become a bit pricey, especially since the houses they happen to like are a little older. So, they have had to consider whether or not they can handle mold (NO), shifty neighborhoods (maybe), and insanely small bathrooms (ABSOLUTELY, if they are design-savvy). Along the way, they have discovered what style they like and that Everything Has Potential.

ANyway, on to my Piffle moment. Last weekend, TL, Milo (the most awesome dog EVAH), LPT and myself went to look at a house that TL was completely smitten with. It was on a slightly sketchy area of road, but lordy mercy! It was cool. Here's the outside:

And here's what the inside layout is, pretty much. (hey, I had LPT with me, what do you expect?):

In short, it's a perfect house. But do TL and SweetBoobs!have said house? NO. Thus the piffle. Like a responsible house-buyer, SweetBoobs! made an offer below asking price, so that he would have room to negotiate. Unfortunately, just as he did this, someone else (bitches) offered the asking price. I thought poor little TL's heart would break. But things are looking up! They found another house, entirely remodeled, and in a neighborhood that SweetBoobs! likes much better.


In the meantime, I'm going to a fête de la saison tomorrow. Anyone who's anyone will be there, Dahling. So, my nails (both sets!) are all done up, and tomorrow at 5:30pm I'm getting my hair done. But the cool thing about the nails is this: when I looked at the prices of manicures and pedicures at the salon where I usually go for other unmentionable girl-stuff, I was SHOCKED. Then of course, when I asked for an appointment, they laughed at me - apparently, Derby time means you need to start planning in November. My bad. To soothe my bruised ego, I went to Target (mmm...Target...) and saw these! And frankly, these horrified me, so I had to try them. And interestingly enough, for twelve dollars plus a little elbow grease and only gluing my hand to my foot ONCE, my tips & toes look pretty nice.

Never were truer words spoken.

I don't know if you realize this, but I am an AVID fan of dooce. It's Heather Armstrong's blog, and I swear, if she lived here (again?) I would very much try to be her friend. But I think I would be standing in a long line. Maybe our daughters could hang out. Anyway, she's awesome, and I wanted to share with you a little piece of a post I stumbled upon in the depths of her archives.

Instead of spreading negativity by publishing the email address and the name of the woman who sent me that email, I’m going to publish something else, an email I got earlier today that made me cry in a good way, an email that makes me hopeful and cheerful and very happy that I am alive:
———
From: n.

Subject: the new contract

“What happens if I end up crazy?”

“How crazy?”

“How crazy is too crazy?”

“Well, I think institutionalization may be the cut off because visiting you would be so unpleasant…”

“Hmm. What about the Armstrongs?”

— pause —

“You’re right. For love, you visit. You visit hell, if you have to. And if they throw you out of hell, you wait on hell’s lawn, indefinitely. That’s how I’d do it if you got crazy.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely. We will call this ‘The Armstrong Clause’, and it will be a contract that can only be nullified in the event of a sockless baby…”