How it's supposed to be...

My Papa used to make us a lot of toys. He was the one that made us the most realistic toy gun we ever had. He carved the stock out of a 2X4 and somehow managed to add a metal barrel. It was coveted by the three of us and our cousins when they were still young enough to play war.

My favorite toy that he ever made was a stick with a wheel. The stick was more like a skinned branch--thick and sturdy like a hefty cane. The wheel was a screw-in castor wheel...the kind that normally attaches to items of furniture. He'd just screw the wheel into the bottom of the stick/branch and we'd push it around the yard for forever. Sometimes I'd chase my fat, younger cousin around with the stick-wheel. Sometimes I'd just chase the air around. Didn't matter. It was just fun.

The wheel tended to want to turn in a circle. Picture it: me--like the toe-headed, red-cheeked girl from Poltergeist--pushing a stick around in circles. Sometimes chasing a fat cousin. Sometimes not. It must have been absurd. And you'd have every right to laugh. Not because it was stupid but because--unless you've had the experience--you can't possibly imagine the stupid, pointless, simple joy of pushing around a stick-wheel. Especially if it's after your fat cousin.

Over the summer I finally go the WV tattoo I've been wanting for 3 years or so. After that, I decided I wanted full lower sleeves of WV ish but I've had trouble deciding on what it would be. First I thought I might get a black bear fighting a giant cardinal. But that seemed too trite and not personal enough. But tonight...tonight I figured it out. My next tattoo will be on the inside of my left forearm. It'll be a black bear pushing a stick-wheel. And later, when I have the money, I'll get something on the outside of my forearm, probably a cardinal, taking aim at the bear with a slingshot.

More lazy blogging, i.e. look what someone else made.

Space problems

Does anyone know how to fix spacing problems on blogger? I have my settings set to convert line breaks but it doesn't always work. That's why in some of my blogs there's no space between paragraphs or there's like 5 spaces between paragraphs. Short of editing the html (which is a hassle) I can't get it to be consistent. Does anyone know if blogger is aware of this problem and if they're working on it?

Best Cat Pictures...So Far

Could I be a stalker?

A conversation about someone's stalker occassioned the following exchange between me (Mr T tough) and my friend Sean.


[13:07] Mr T tough: i could totally be a stalker
[13:07] Crinttae: you could not
[13:07] Crinttae: you can barely stand people
[13:07] Mr T tough: why not?
[13:07] Mr T tough: sure i could
[13:07] Crinttae: how are you gonna stalk them?
[13:07] Mr T tough: on the internets
[13:07] Mr T tough: and like, go by where they work or live or something
[13:07] Crinttae: you'd follow them to their car and then be like
[13:07] Crinttae: this sucks i'm gonna go watch buffy
[13:07] Mr T tough: maybe most of my stalking would be from a distance
[13:08] Mr T tough: mostly on blogs and websites and such
[13:08] Mr T tough: basically, what i do now only more so
[13:08] Crinttae: no way
[13:08] Mr T tough: ???
[13:08] Crinttae: 90% of your blogs are about you
[13:08] Mr T tough: i'm stalking myself!
[13:08] Crinttae: well, that i could see
[13:08] Mr T tough: this is a stunning realization
[13:09] Mr T tough: i think i'm super sexy and i can't wait to see myself again
[13:09] Crinttae: finally realize who's been leaving all those notes
[13:09] Mr T tough: hmmm
[13:09] Crinttae: like
[13:09] Crinttae: "laundary, groceries, workout"
[13:09] Crinttae: and keeping creepy notebooks about your activities
[13:10] Crinttae: "ran- 20 minutes, 20 reverse pushups"
[13:10] Mr T tough: you mean the workout notebook?
[13:10] Mr T tough: you think that's weird?
[13:10] Crinttae: exactly
[13:10] Mr T tough: one has to document one's life
[13:10] Crinttae: well it's a sure sign you're a stalker
[13:10] Crinttae: i'd get thrown in jail if i had a notebook of you like that
[13:11] Mr T tough: yes, but don't you think i'm capable of taking my love of me and turning it on other people?
[13:11] Crinttae: maybe?
[13:11] Crinttae: i don't know
[13:11] Crinttae: i just see you getting bored and going to go watch buffy
[13:11] Crinttae: in every case where you might start to follow someone
[13:12] Crinttae: unless it was buffy
[13:12] Crinttae: hm.
[13:12] Crinttae: then i could see it happening
[13:12] Mr T tough: yes but you think i'm always watching buffy
[13:12] Crinttae: so yes you could stalk someone
[13:12] Crinttae: but if and only if that person is buffy
[13:13] Crinttae: i'm saying you're too independent
[13:13] Crinttae: you need to be a creep
[13:13] Crinttae: like me

_________________________________________

So, is it weird that I keep a log of all my workouts?

The men in my life.

Every night we go through the same routine. I pick Jimmy up and carry him into the bedroom, placing him gingerly on the end of the bed. He looks up at me, very concerned, and waits patiently while I brush my teeth and wash my face. When I finish and get into bed, he sits there for about 5 more minutes and then takes off. Sometimes he reappears in the night; sometimes he never comes back.

I tried to stop taking him to bed with me for a while. I'd just leave him wherever he was in the living room, figuring he'd rather be there anyway since he doesn't stay with me. It didn't work. He'd look at me all sad and confused, wondering why I had changed our routine. Even if it's a routine he doesn't care for, it's still the routine we have and deviating from it upsets him.

Once Jimmy leaves the bedroom, Milo comes in. He's almost as excited about bedtime as he is about showertime. He knows it's the one time of day that he can sit with me and I won't get up to get a drink or go to the bathroom. He has my full attention...at least, he has it until I'm too tired to continue petting him.

He lays beside me where the other pillow would normally be. He purrs and nuzzles me. If I get too lazy to pet him it's not a big deal. He'll rub his head on my hand or my arm or my face. I just have to sit still while he gets his rocks off.

In the morning, Milo wakes up when I wake up and follows me into the bathroom where he sits on the toilet and watches me shower. Most of the time he'll start walking around the edge of the shower making that wonderful little "merowp" sound he makes. I talk to him the whole time and put my hand on the shower curtain where he rubs up against it.

When I get out Jimmy runs into the bathroom, eager to take part in the morning love fest. As I towel off, Milo demands kisses. His kisses don't entail licking. I just pucker my lips and he leans forward to sniff them and then he says "merowp" and rubs up against my wet leg, leaving white hairs in his wake.

Jimmy waits patiently...sort of. He's patient for a bit and then it's that insistent and plaintive meow he does to make me feel bad for him. It works every time. I'll start petting him and he'll start purring and then he runs into the kitchen to make sure I know that he wants breakfast.

When I leave for the day, I tell them to behave themselves and when I come back I find them clamoring at the door for my attention.

Jimmy likes to be held and talked to or sung to. Milo doesn't want picked up but he loves to sit on your chest and tuck his head up under your chin. Jimmy is reflective and needy. Milo is haphazard and playful. Jimmy is smart. Milo isn't. Jimmy wants everything you have to eat. Milo is only interested in ham or tuna. Jimmy plays with a lobster named Fidel and a mouse named Garson. Milo plays by hitting Jimmy in the face when he's trying to sleep.

Ben was recently chatting up a hottie online and she started talking shit on cats. He closed the IM window and signed off. As he figured it, if you don't like cats then I'm not going to like you. And he's right.

All these things right here.

Assuming that being really funny and being really smart are mutually exclusive characteristics, which would you prefer someone to have?

If you pick funny, the person need not be dumb. Just not terribly engaging intellectually. If you pick smart, the person isn't without a sense of humor. Just incapable of really cracking you up.
____________________________________


Does anyone remember that time Ilona took a car full of people to like Pennsylvania or Maryland or something and then told them that they couldn't go indoors anywhere for at least 24 hours?

That's hard to do. I guess they just played around outside but still...24 hours is a long time when you can't even go into a 7-11.
_______________________________________

I like the way it sounds when someone says, "_______tickles me." Them saying that tickles me. It makes me think of the underside of knees and fitted dresses that flare at the waist and potholders decorated with bumblebees and lemongrass and rootbeer floats. ______________________________________

I had a dream a while back that I was going to see a movie with some people and Lauren and Matt were there. Lauren pushed me down a very steep hill and kept saying that I was so fat I looked pregnant. I didn't really want to go to a movie with her after that but it was a dream that featured me being very committed to my end goal. Stupid dreams.

____________________________________________

FOUND magazine is having a holiday special. You can get all 5 issues of the magazine for $20 plus $5 shipping. It's really a pretty sweet deal, especially since you don't have to track down a store that sells the magazines. So I placed an order. You can also get issues #2 and #3 of Dirty FOUND for $16. As in, $16 for the both of them. That's not bad. But I didn't really have another $20 to spend on reading scraps from other people's lives. (Dirty FOUND #1 is out of print but they're doing a reprint in the near future.)

I know some people get into the PostSecret books but I can't get down with that. They're too contrived. The idea is that people mail in a homemade postcard with a secret on it. It's a fine concept that apparently originated at D.C.'s Artomatic a few years ago. (I went to Artomatic last year and I wasn't that impressed. Some stuff was interesting but a lot of it was crap. Think of it as the vanity press for painters and sculptors.) Anyway, PostSecret is the weaksauce version of FOUND and came out a few years after FOUND placed its foot firmly in the doorway of exploiting other people's lives.

FOUND is predicated on the idea that you're not meant see what you're seeing. These are personal notes and pictures and scraps that are not addressed to you. Their intended audience is very specific and the message is tailored to that audience. Consequently, what you get is a very sincere sliver of someone's personal narrative.

PostSecret, on the other hand, is deliberate. People choose what secret they'll reveal and how they'll visually represent the tone of that secret through their homemade postcard. And while you can argue against it, I think the things in PostSecret are far more likely to be fabricated by the people sending them in. For all these reasons, I don't see PostSecret as an accurate representation of the private or internal life of the human animal.

Really, the difference between these two publications is like the difference between a diary and a blog. (However, this should not discourage you from reading my blog, which is clearly a high-class publication that's fully represenative of my inner monologue.)_______________________________________

My oldest brother works as a mechanical engineer for Poland Spring in Maine. When my family went up there in September for his wedding, some of us toured the plant he works in. It was cool. Sort of like being on an episode of Discovery Channel's How It's Made.

When you go into the plant, you have to wear safety glasses, a hairnet, earplugs, and an apron sort of thing over your shoes. It's a very clean place and they seem to have a firm handle on what they need to do to keep everyone safe.

A few weeks ago and he was telling me about a routine safety inspection that was done at his plant. One of the safety inspectors freaked out when he saw a man that wasn't wearing earplugs. He wrote it down and explained to whoever was in charge that it was a very serious safety concern because the machines are quite loud and could damage the man's hearing. But the thing is, that guy is deaf. Literally. That's why he doesn't care about wearing earplugs.

In retrospect, that story isn't so funny.

Glow in the dark cats

Hooray for technology. It's given us such wonders as pizza rolls, leet speak, and reality TV. How could things get better? Well, how about a cat except...hold on...wait for it...it glows in the dark? It's like cat+. Woo! South Korea, I totally want to party with you.

Wed Dec 12, 4:00 PM ET

South Korean scientists have cloned cats by manipulating a fluorescent protein gene, a procedure which could help develop treatments for human genetic diseases, officials said Wednesday.

In a side-effect, the cloned cats glow in the dark when exposed to ultraviolet beams.

A team of scientists led by Kong Il-keun, a cloning expert at Gyeongsang National University, produced three cats possessing altered fluorescence protein (RFP) genes, the Ministry of Science and Technology said.

"It marked the first time in the world that cats with RFP genes have been cloned," the ministry said in a statement.

"The ability to produce cloned cats with the manipulated genes is significant as it could be used for developing treatments for genetic diseases and for reproducing model (cloned) animals suffering from the same diseases as humans," it added.

The cats were born in January and February. One was stillborn while two others grew to become adult Turkish Angoras, weighing 3.0 kilogrammes (6.6 pounds) and 3.5 kilogrammes.

"This technology can be applied to clone animals suffering from the same diseases as humans," the leading scientist, Kong, told AFP.

"It will also help develop stemcell treatments," he said, noting that cats have some 250 kinds of genetic diseases that affect humans, too.

The technology can also help clone endangered animals like tigers, leopards and wildcats, Kong said.

South Korea's bio-engineering industry suffered a setback after a much-touted achievement by cloning expert Hwang Woo-Suk turned out to have been faked.

The government banned Hwang from research using human eggs after his claims that he created the first human stem cells through cloning were ruled last year to be bogus.

Hwang is standing trial on charges of fraud and embezzlement.

Thinking too hard

If I make myself think about something really hard, my brain will latch onto the little nugget at the center of that thing I'm thinking about and it'll convince my body of the complete truth of that thing and then I'll feel as if that thing is happening. Like my own eventual death. If I think very hard about my own death, I can kind of convince myself of my mortality. That's not an easy thing to do. We're flip about our death. We say, "I'll die someday. Everyone dies." But everyone is not us. They're everyone else. Holding onto the idea of your death is difficult. It's slippery and you want to let it go because of how overwhelming it is. When I finally can't think about it anymore, when it feels like my chest is being pulled apart by cold wisps of air with fingerless clutches, I think about mailing netflix or that sound the elliptical machine makes when my cool-down is done or the way that no one ever cleans out the microwave in the employee lounge. These things are concrete and have been given an arbitrary sense of weightyness. And that can be reassuring.

Part of the problem

I woke up for work an hour later than usual. No big deal but I think it's because my apartment was too warm. Ever since they put in a new thermostat I've been unable to control the heat. I set it at 72 degrees and the fan is set on auto but when I got up it was 80 degrees in my apartment. What the hell? Milo and Jimmy would normally wake me up but the heat had clearly affected them as they were out like two angelic bewhiskered lights.

I went through my normal routine. No rushing around. Things like this have a way of working themselves out and throwing yourself around in a wild frenzy tends to only delay you further. I even took the back roads to work, daring the tempermental hands of time to fuck with me. To borrow a word, I am unfuckwithable.

As I took the ramp from 193 onto Route 1, I was forced to yield to the oncoming traffic. There's no merge area there and there were quite a few cars coming. As I waited for my lane to clear, a big 'ol GMC Yukon came up behind me, slammed on his brakes, and honked loudly. At first, I didn't realize he was honking at me. Why would he be? I was yielding just as the big red and white sign indicated I should. When he honked again I looked in my rearview and saw him gesticulating like he was having a confrontation and that's when I knew that I was the person he was confrontationing with. I rolled down my window, stuck my head out to look at him, and gestured towards the oncoming cars. He gestured back at the oncoming cars and honked again. I looked to make sure that I was right, that there wasn't a merge area and that if I went now I'd get hit. And I was right. I gestured again. He honked again.

Each time something like that happens, I want to talk to the person and explain to them that this is not a problem. A problem is getting abducted by aliens or finding inexplicable lesions on your genitals. Being stuck behind someone that's yielding does not compare with the life altering nature of some situations. But instead of getting out of my car and telling that man to calm down, I flipped him off and laughed as I drove away. I am what's wrong with humanity.


Also, Hulk Hogan is gonna be hosting a remake of American Gladiators on NBC. It almost makes me wish I had cable.

Let's Go: Who wants to be my travel buddy to the Balkans?

I've spent the past two hours refreshing my memory on European history and geography through wikipedia. It's good for that because the links make it easy to envision relationships between people, places, and things. That's something that's always hard for me. And then I forget everything very fast. But each time I (re)learn something new, I tell myself that this time it'll stick. I'll think about it so hard that I can't imagine ever not knowing it. I keep saying to myself "Belgrade is the capital city of Serbia. Belgrade is the capital city of Serbia." But if you ask me in a week what the capital city of Serbia is, I won't know. Or I won't be terribly confident about my answer.

Well...maybe that's a bad example. Maybe I'll remember the capital city of Serbia because that one's pretty simple. You just remember it by failing to forget. But I'll forget something...or get confused. Are the Baltic states a part of Northern or Eastern Europe? Depends on who you ask really. I'd say Eastern but that's because I tend to think of countries like Lithuania as being more similar culturally to the Czech Republic than to Norway or Sweden. But then again, lots of people consider the Czech Republic to be Central Europe and not Eastern. I'm also pretty sure that I'm not qualified to come down on the side of any particular issue.

It bothers me, all of this not remembering and not knowing. I can't even keep my empires straight. Sure, I have a rough idea of the extent of the Ottoman Empire but don't ask me to list the territories it included.

Last year I decided that I wanted to go to Greece. As in, "I'm going to save money and go to Greece in the near future." Not as in, "Yep. Greece. Sure would like to go. Who wants more booze?"

Unexpected expenses caused my idea for this trip to be set back significantly. Since then, my plan has changed to include other Balkan countries.

Flights to the Balkans tend to take nearly a full day and when you figure that I'd probably only get 2 weeks off from work, it doesn't seem wise to try to see more than a few places in such a short amount of time. And what's the hurry? The Balkans have been there through countless wars and have witnessed the formation and dissolution of a variety of governments and countries. They'll be there for a while longer. Might as well take my time and get to know Bosnia and then have a little trip down to Greece. Or, have a fling with Bosnia and then have a tryst with Serbia on my way to a more committed relationship with Romania.

If you go to the tourism website for Bosnia-Herzegovina there's a whole section on how to avoid landmines while exploring the country. What it says amounts to "don't go anywhere that isn't populated," which kind of sucks because the Bosnian countryside appears to be gorgeous. Then again, how often do you actually go on a trip and venture into unknown territory all by yourself, sans a local guide? So yeah, I guess the Bosnian War didn't totally ruin my potential ability to picnic there.

By the end of 2008 or mid-2009, I could feasibly be enjoying the cooling breeze coming off the Adriatic. Maybe not in a swank hotel. Maybe not fanning myself with heaps of cash. To do that I'd probably have to wait until the end of 2009 or so. But I'd be there and I'd be avoiding unexploded ordinance in a country that's been host to horrific ethnic cleansing and that's now attempting to get itself back on track with toursists by calling itself "The Heart Shaped Land" that's right in "The Heart of SE Europe."

Who wants to go? Who among you is willing to say that you'll start saving money now to plan this trip with me?

You see, I've not traveled much. But traveling is a key component to my ideal life. It need not be lavish or all that frequent. Once a year and on a reasonable budget would be fine with me. But it does need to happen. After all, the benefit of being a person that doesn't have or want children is that you can do whatever you want. Assuming, of course, that you'll actually do something. And I want to. I actually want to do something.

The problem is that I'm also not married or in a serious relationship and all or most of my friends are about as brokeass poor as BJs are good. I suppose I could go alone but if I did that, who would I turn to to say, "Look at how silly other cultures are. They don't even put ketchup on the table"?

So take a minute and consider it. Wouldn't you like to see where Archduke Franz Ferdiand was assassinated? Or at least, wouldn't you rather do that than crush my dreams?

Scotland's New Image

Nov 28 2007 By Magnus Gardham
A £125,000 campaign to replace Scotland's Best Small Country In The World tag has been unveiled.

And the exciting new catchphrase dreamed up by top advertising brains is..."Welcome to Scotland".

Artwork featuring the message will be displayed at all Scots airports from St Andrew's Day, accompanied by different national and local messages.

The decision to rebrand Scotland's "points of entry" follows a pledge by First Minister Alex Salmond to scrap his predecessor Jack McConnell's slogan "Scotland, the Best Small Country in the World".

Salmond said that was too downbeat and typified the "Scottish cringe".

The new message was devised with help from one of Scotland's top advertising agencies, The Leith Agency.

Extra national slogans include "World Leader in Learning" and "First to Introduce Universal Education" as well as "Home of Golf" and the snappy: "Home of Europe's Fastest Growing Life Sciences Community".

Glasgow's sign will also say "Birthplace of Charles Rennie Mackintosh" and refer to the 2014 Commonwealth Games among other slogans.

Edinburgh's options include "UNESCO First City of Literature" and "Real Financial Strength".
Visitors to Inverness could be greeted with "Home to Mountain Bike World Cup," while passengers at Prestwick will read "Home of Robert Burns".

Aberdeen signs could say "Energy Capital of Europe" and Dundee will use the "City of Discovery" tag.

The new artwork was unveiled at Glasgow airport yesterday by culture minister Linda Fabiani.
She said: "These images will welcome people arriving in our country and Scots coming home, giving everyone a taste and glimpse of the very best of Scotland.

"This is not about developing flashy slogans. This is about showing what a modern, vibrant and successful country Scotland is."

But Labour MSP Jackie Baillie said: "If 'Welcome to Scotland' is the best Alex Salmond's government can come up with, it shows the SNP have had an imagination bypass. It sounds more like a road sign at Berwick than it does a must-do invitation to visit our country."
However, tourism and business leaders backed the change.
VisitScotland chief executive Philip Riddle said the displays would help establish Scotland as a "must-visit, must-return destination".
The Labour leader of Glasgow City Council, Steven Purcell, said: "We are delighted to see key messages about Glasgow, including our Commonwealth Games win, and striking city imagery in the new point of entry materials."
A government spokesman said the £125,000 cost of the displays covered the new artwork, printing and installation.
The cash came from existing budgets as the Best Small Country campaign was due to come to an end.
REBRANDING: WHAT'S IN A NAME CHANGE?
OTHER rebrandings include:
Prestwick airport got the slogan "Pure Dead Briliant" as part of a £3million upgrade last year. But a logo featuring a cartoon drunken Scotsman sparked outrage.
First Minister Alex Salmond renamed the Scottish Executive the Scottish government. It cost £100,000 to change stationery and signs. But Westminster still refer to the "Executive" - the legal name.
The Scottish Office were renamed the Scotland Office after devolution in 1999.
The Scottish Tourist Board became VisitScotland in 2001. It took five years for the change to be made legal.
Mars changed their Marathon bars into Snickers and Opal Fruits to Starburst.

Executive Order 13112

an excerpt



(a) Each Federal agency whose actions may affect the status of invasive species shall, to the extent practicable and permitted by law,

(1) identify such actions;

(2) subject to the availability of appropriations, and within Administration budgetary limits, use relevant programs and authorities to: (i) prevent the introduction of invasive species; (ii) detect and respond rapidly to and control populations of such species in a cost-effective and environmentally sound manner; (iii) monitor invasive species populations accurately and reliably; (iv) provide for restoration of native species and habitat conditions in ecosystems that have been invaded; (v) conduct research on invasive species and develop technologies to prevent introduction and provide for environmentally sound control of invasive species; and (vi) promote public education on invasive species and the means to address them; and

(3) not authorize, fund, or carry out actions that it believes are likely to cause or promote the introduction or spread of invasive species in the United States or elsewhere unless, pursuant to guidelines that it has prescribed, the agency has determined and made public its determination that the benefits of such actions clearly outweigh the potential harm caused by invasive species; and that all feasible and prudent measures to minimize risk of harm will be taken in conjunction with the actions.

(b) Federal agencies shall pursue the duties set forth in this section in consultation with the Invasive Species Council, consistent with the Invasive Species Management Plan and in cooperation with stakeholders, as appropriate, and, as approved by the Department of State, when Federal agencies are working with international organizations and foreign nations.

_________________________________

Woo!!! Spend you day thinking about that! I will!

Good job.

Sometimes I'm really proud of my work. Not like helping orphans proud or saving the world proud...that's such a weird kind of pride anyway. I'm talking about, "Damn, that's cool and I did it" pride.

For instance, I was talking to a co-worker today about a letter she's working on that presents a myriad of complex issues spanning 10 years. It involves us owning up to a mistake we made, explaining why the ramifications of that mistake are not our fault, pinpointing the person that is actually at fault, and laying out regulations to a Congressman. Doesn't sound so bad but it's harder than you think. Especially the part where we explain why us making a mistake doesn't equal us being responsible. So the co-worker was having problems writing around this issue and I referred her to a letter I wrote a few weeks ago. In it I did a very similar thing with a slick bit of leger de main. I was all, "Hey! I'm acknowledging this issue. But what's this? Look over here! Something else totally unrelated that takes your mind off that issue." It was genius. Have you ever read Richard Nixon's Checkers speech? Well, it was sort of like that but way less involved.

100 years ago today...

the greatest mining disaster in America took place in Monongah, WV. If you're from Morgantown you may not be terribly familiar with Monongah. But if you're from Fairmont or any of the surrounding towns (holla at me Barrickville, Rivesville, Idamay, Fairview, et al.) you know where Monongah is. Or, at the least, you've heard the name said but maybe you can't quite remember which of the little downtrodden former mining towns it is. There are too many.

That's how it is for me.

Everything in these towns is covered in coal dust. It might be the stain that the coal left years and years ago when the mines were still active or it might be from the coal trucks that pass through on their way to bigger towns where there's still mining going on. Sometimes--like in Greentown--many of the houses are painted a uniform color to indicate that they were company owned. No one has bothered to repaint. I don't know if it's out of laziness or if it's been left that way as an explanation--"This is what the mining companies did to us." Either way, it's obscene. Most people would pull their dress back down after being raped. Not West Virginians. We leave our dress around our hips and our legs spread. Our faces are alway mixed with pride and regret.

We identify with the thing we most hate so much that it's become a part of who we are. Coal mining is indigenous now. We don't even question it.

We used to ride 4-wheelers up around the fly ash dump and we never thought that it was strange for the water in the creek to be tinted orange. The roads at home aways need repaving from coal trucks passing over them and if you drive to Sugar Lane from Morgantown on a weekday you'll need to leave yourself some extra time cause you're guaranteed to get stuck behind one of those slow, lumbering beasts. Everyone knows a miner. If your dad wasn't a miner then his dad was and you probably have an uncle or two that works in the mines. The dust stays under their fingernails and you'll never see them entirely clean. They told us to stay away from abandoned mines but sometimes we'd still play right outside the mouth of one, pretending that it was our cave. We're used to things like runoff ponds that catch the rainwater after stripmining changes the topography. When they stripmined in Sugar Lane we stocked our runoff pond with bluegill, catfish, bass, and even a few drum. We put in a diving board and spent many summer days in intertubes on the pond. My brother was married at our runoff pond with the stripmined hill blocking the sun.

You just don't think about any of it. It's always been that way.

I knew that mining was big in WV but I had no idea that it was somewhat non-existent in other areas. Over the past two years I've met people that have no miners in their family. Some of them seemed surprised that people still had jobs mining. They say things like, "You mean, down in the earth? In a hole? Digging at rocks and stuff." I say, "Yeah. Some of the technology is different but yeah...down in the earth." And they say, "I didn't know people still did that." Of course they do. My oldest brother's first job out of college was as a mechanical engineer for the mines. It was a terrible job and I wondered if I was supposed to hate him for working for the company or respect him for keeping things running right and making sure the miners were safe. Being a company man in WV is similar to being a...well...I can't think of anything that doesn't rely on the typical overplayed Nazi comparision. Suffice to say, being a company man in WV is like being a person that isn't liked very much.

If you want to know more about the Monongah mining disaster, this site is a good overview:
http://www.boisestate.edu/history/ncasner/hy210/mining.htm.

Go full wad.

It's funny when you realize that you have no idea what you look like to other people. Depending on what room my mirror is in, how I stand, what I'm wearing, and where the light is in relation to the mirror, I look alternately like a pretty hot, short girl with a thick rump OR like a pretty thick, short girl that looks like she's hot.

I imagine that for other people it's more one way than the other. And maybe it even changes depending on the person and how much they like girls, short girls, rumps, thick rumps, short thick girls, etc. But whoever the person is, I'm sure that I'm cartoonish. I just can't figure out if I'm cartoonish in a "Look at that bubble person gettin' her bubbles everywhere" kind of way or in a "I want that big butted girl to...hell...I don't care what she does. Look at that big butt." kind of a way.

Whatever the answer, it's probably best to assume that it's the coolest or sexiest option and run with it. No one ever found half-way appealing.

I'd be so cute.

If I was a cat, I'd do the same things that I do as a person only people would love me for it.

Picture me doing all these things except as a cat:

--drinking vodka
--mocking others
--playing with costumes
--fretting over my amazon wishlist
--writing letters to congressional representatives
--complaining that jeans never fit me right
--grabbing my bag and going to the gym
--burying my face in a cute boy's stomach (if you're a friend of mine, this may not make sense to you...if you're a cute boy of mine, you know i do this quite a bit.)
--begging to have my extremities tickled

_______________________________

Sean told me today that the rule for dating someone younger than you is half your age plus seven. I had never heard that. I asked Ben about it and he says it's common knowledge. What the eff? How did I not know that? Is there also a rule about making out with the hotties that your friends introduce you to? Cause Bryn has a stockpile of hotties at home. Can I have one of those or are they hers even if she doesn't use them to their full potential?

Thanks to Jeremy...

for using the word lebensraum while IMing me. Perhaps I sound a fool for admitting it but before today I hadn't heard the term. Or, if I had, I didn't remember it. But from now on, it's a part of my vocabulary.

In future you'll be playing Risk with me and my dudes in South America will attack your puny armies in Africa and you'll be all, "What the eff?" and I'll be all, "Son, I need some lebensraum!"
Or maybe I'll be hanging out with Hess and he'll be squishing me on the couch while we watch Deadwood and I'll say, "Get out of my face. I have to have lebensraum."

Revelation?

A few moments ago, I was eating my breakfast (a bowl of Aldi's imitiation Cocoa Wheats--lots of iron and calcium--and an English muffin) and reading a story about how Jessica Alba used to have an eating disorder. She was training to film that stupid TV show she had, Dark Angel, and started starving herself. As I bit into the second half of my muffin I thought, "Yeah, if I wanted to, I could totally have an eating disorder." To prove it, I've decided to fast until noon when I go to lunch with Jessica.

Hidden Camera.

Some dude. Some bitch. Whatever.

Saturday I went to see The Golden Compass with a rocket scientist. The most exciting thing about the entire evening was knowing that when it was over I'd be able to say that I went to see The Golden Compass with a rocket scientist.

The movie was bad and the rocket scientist was loud. Not loud like me. Louder. And he seemed like he was still in high school. We met in front of Borders and as he walked towards me he slapped his hand to his head in a d'oh kind of way and muttered something to himself about the metro breaking down. Or something.

But picture it: he's a 25 year old, 6'5" dude with a roundish middle section and thinning black hair hitting his head on the street and muttering frustratedly to himself. To say that it was comical wouldn't be entirely correct. It primarily served to highlight all of the little--and not so little--social differences between us. Nonetheless, he's an amusing character.

Some 21 year old dude (dude or kid? I'm tempted to say kid.) messaged me the other day. He's reasonable enough. And in some ways, he might be impressively reasonable for someone his age. He likes to pepper his conversation with familiar but infrequently used words like ubiquitous and lexicon. Lexicon is a favorite and occurs at least once during every conversation. I'm sympathetic towards this because I also attach myself to words that I think of as being so specific that they name precisely what I mean. Unfortunatley, we both use these words with such abandon that they become pervasive in our speech and tend to lose the quality that we valued them for originally. (I am, of course, assuming a lot about this person's motivations here--namely that they are identical to my own. This is something I do every time I meet someone new. Then I'm annoyed and disappointed when I learn that they're different from me and have desires and motivations all their own. Lame.)

Anyway...why do I want to call this guy a kid? Seriously. He's an adult. He has a job. He lives in an apartment. I imagine that his life requires him to pay bills and buy groceries and take care of countless hassles and cope with the odd moment of joy. This is--as far as I can tell--a fully formed person with opinions, thoughts, desires, faults, preferences, and probably even an inner monologue. He's even older than Sage and I have no problem thinking of Sage as a completely autonomous person with internal states (as much as I think of anyone as being completely autonomous with internal states). But wait, I think I'm characterizing this incorrectly. I don't think of this dude as incomplete or lacking autonomy or failing to somehow be a full person (inasmuch as you can actually think about such things with regard to a stranger). But if someone were to ask me, "Who's that guy you're IMing?" I'd probably say, "Some kid that messaged me the other day."

Had I met this guy through one of my friends in Morgantown, I wouldn't think of him as being younger. He'd just be some dude with whatever attributes he happens to possess. Maybe that's because when you meet someone through friends you're already roughly associated with their attributes and identify them in that way. Conversely, if you meet someone on a social networking site you have nothing with which to associate them but the information contained in their profile: "Hmm, dirigible77 is a 21 year old male that's trying to quit smoking, sometimes drinks, and owns a cat." And until you learn about other, more important attributes that's all you have.

A potentially valuable lesson?

Click to learn something that may just save your life some day. Suckers.

God double dammit.

Does everyone do a google search on the people they've met recently? Cause see, I have this whole blog about a date that I went on and my impressions of the dude and evening and so on and so forth. But you know, it's me so all of those things are sort of harsh sounding. But the dude is a nice enough dude. I mean, I'd play a board game with him. So what are the chances that he found my blog and might spot me harshing all over his mellow?