(no subject)

Oh. My. God.

I have the greatest lil sis EVAR!!!!!!!

She sent me the most WONDERFUL care package. Literally, with every new thing I took out I squealed. My students were watching me go into fits of excitement. Chocolate! And socks!!! I asked everybody for interesting socks this Christmas and I got none, but now I have socks with frogs! I have on now the socks that were formerly my second favorite pair of socks, but now they have to rank below the the froggies. (My fave pair, incidentally, are kneesocks I got from a street vendor on Portabello Road in London, so I have no way of getting more, but the froggies make me sooooo happy!) And now I feel so guilty cause I haven't gotten around to sending her her Christmas prezzie, and there are three other people I haven't sent holiday gifts to either, and woe. I am not deserving of as wonderful and special a friend as ellirpa.

Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouuuuuu luv. It completely made my day. No, my month. Oooooh, Godiva chocolate!

*glomps you*

(no subject)

Today (or maybe yesterday) is Carl Sandburg's birthday. I don't like much poetry, but I like his. Here's my favorite:

Limited

I am riding on a limited express, one of the crack trains of the
nation.
Hurtling across the prairie into blue haze and dark air go fifteen
all-steel coaches holding a thousand people.
(All the coaches shall be scrap and rust and all the men and
women laughing in the diners and sleepers shall pass to
ashes.)
I ask a man in the smoker where he is going and he answers:
"Omaha."

-CARL SANDBURG FROM CHICAGO POEMS

Silly meme stolen from blackthornglade

I'll have a double order of the Bison, please?

The ones in bold are the ones I have yet to try

( Read more... )

(no subject)

http://www.infoshop.org/inews/stories.php?story=04/12/21/7315537

This is scary. The writer has an obvious bias, but you can't argue with the facts he presents.

I hate how the federal government can screw over the people it is supposed to serve. Literally, it is bending us over and fucking us in the ass, hard, without lube. And it seems that every day there is less and less we can do about it. I love this country. I love the music and the people and the space and the literature and golden rolling hills of my birth state of California, and the scrubbrush-beauty of Texas where I lived for most of my second decade, and the verdant beauty of the Northeast and Midwest. I love the lonely parts of the interstate through Arizona and New Mexico. I love the state parks that are being destroyed and the coastlines that will be destroyed. I love the people who all have stories of hardships and sprituality and making do, making it through. I love the Constitution that founded my country. I love Steinbeck's country, and Kate Wolf's country, but I also love Upton Sinclair's country because it meant that there was real improvement, that the public wouldn't stand for some things, whereas nowadays I see people knowing that these things are happening and just not caring. I never knew that watching them allow themselves to be screwed over could break my heart.

I'm not moving to Canada. I love my country and won't leave as long as it needs people to speak truth to power. Living being one small voice makes me feel helpless, but one voice is better than none, I suppose.