I know you didn't just toss that.

Lyn reminded me of something I meant to write about here last week and then life got in my way. Let's hop in the way-back machine and go to last Wednesday. I'll set the scene...

I was walking to the subway around 4PM to go into Manhattan to get a massage. Have I mentioned that my massage therapist is also my doula? It's such a sweet deal. Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I was walking to the train and it was broad daylight. For some reason, that strikes me as a very important part of the story. Broad daylight, folks. I was headed down the block and a teenager approaching from the opposite direction took the last sip from his Snapple bottle, put the cap back on, and when he was about 10' from me he tossed it on the ground.

He. Tossed. It. On. The. Ground.

This goes back to the broad daylight comment - it was not dark, it was not in a bad part of town, the kid was not the only person on the block at the time. In fact, there was a middle aged man walking right behind him who said nothing. The man said not a word. So, if you know anything about me at all, you know that I 1) cry at the drop of a hat, 2) really hate puking, and 3) believe wholeheartedly that it is up to each of us as individuals to stand up and speak up when we see things happening that are not OK by our societal standards. If we don't do #3 we (the royal WE) are destined to let bad crap happen over and over until we decay into the kind of people none of us want to be.

Again, back to the matter at hand. The young man tossed his bottle on the ground and I look to the older man to say something. I wasn't looking for an out, I just happen to think that perhaps a few guiding words from an older black man would have more of an affect on a black teenaged male than those same words from a 31 yr old me. The man said nothing, so I realized quickly that it was my responsibility to speak up.

"I'm sure you accidentally dropped that bottle, my friend. I'm sure you didn't just toss that."

Silence, the kid kept walking but glanced back at me.

"You really think it's OK to toss your trash around this neighborhood? We both live here and I'll tell you right now that's not OK."

At this point people are looking at me, but no one is looking at the kid and no one is joining in what should be a chorus of sane voices speaking up against ridiculous behavior.

"Alright, I see how you want to play this one. I'll pick this up for you this time since your mother clearly isn't here to clean up after you and I refuse to live in a neighborhood covered in trash. I'm bending down now (getting louder at this point to make sure he can hear me halfway down the block) to pick up your trash. All 9 months pregnant of me, cleaning up after your sorry self. I really hope your mother doesn't know you act this way. Have a great day!"

I picked up the bottle, carried it to the corner, deposited it into someone's recycling bin and that's when I heard the laughter. There was a teenaged couple walking behind me laughing and I heard the boy say to the girl, "Yo, she picked up that fucking bottle, yo! She fucking picked that shit up! Hahahahaha!"

"It's funny to you? It's not funny to me, and it wasn't hard, either. I picked up someone else's mess because I live here. Did you grow up here? Do you want this place where you grew up to look like shit because someone else is too selfish and lazy to take care of his own business? I bet you don't. I'm sure you don't want that."

Another important note in this story is that I didn't get heated. My tone of voice was calm and assertive, but not aggressive. No use in acting like a crazy person just because I'm pissed off. You do far more good when you're calm than you do when you're irate and just screaming at folks. It's like when I need a seat on the subway because I'm hugely pregnant and people are acting like they don't notice or acting like they're sleeping (mmm hmm, both of those happen all the time). I don't get all huffy. Instead, I calmly go to the largest, strongest man sitting down and ask politely if he would mind giving me his seat. "Excuse me, sir? Would you mind if I took your seat? I hate to ask, but I'm 9 months pregnant and my balance is pretty awful." It works every time. No yelling, no crazy antics. That man (and everyone else on the train) is far more likely to notice the next pregnant woman and give her a seat instead of remembering the loony pregnant chick they saw on the train yelling at some dude.

Moral of the story? Do good, be good. When you see something that doesn't fall into either category, calmly encourage the person doing it to reconsider. You just might make a real difference. It's not as gratifying as screaming in outrage in the exact moment it's happening, but 30 seconds later you'll feel so good you might surprise yourself.

Snark Alert

The word is r-i-d-i-c-u-l-o-u-s. Not r-E-diculous.

There is no such word as "supposebly".

"Irregardless" isn't even close.

Can we please finish the chapter on "orientated"? C'mon! How hard is it to get oriented? Apparently it's so hard some people feel the need to add a syllable.

Educated, professional people who make far more money than I do should know these things. They just should. That's how the world should work. There are simple rules that the universe should follow. Higher-ups being even remotely capable of using the English language correctly is one of those rules. Case closed.

Pushy, pushy, pushy

A former coworker just left me a comment on my Facebook page (yes, I know) about the fact that I am a fan of Planned Parenthood. She said it's interesting that I'm still pro-choice now that I'm pregnant. Now, she didn't mean it as "oh, that is truly interesting". She meant "that's callous and you'll figure it out eventually".

Why is it that some women assume that having children is the benchmark of whether or not one is pro or anti choice? I don't get it. I told her that I'm actually more resolved than ever in my pro-choice stance now that I know the joy of planning for a child. I wouldn't dream of pushing my beliefs that belong in a church on anyone else, so the thought of my government or anyone else doing that to me is disgusting.

I doubt there will be further comment. She asked me a couple of days ago why I changed my middle name to Hussein. (You can make your display name on Facebook anything you want, and there are thousands of members who have changed their middle names to Hussein as a show of support for Obama.) When I told her it was an Obama reference she didn't reply.

I am almost always open to a discussion about my beliefs and my politics. I don't understand those who ask antagonistic questions only to clam up when the answer is provided. It's like she's looking for a reason to dislike me based on my views. I happen to think her conservative Christian beliefs are utter shite, but I'd still be open to talking to her about them and they don't make me dislike her. I just don't get it.

Annoyed

Mobile posts are still not working. Grr!

Complacency

It’s a word that drives me nuts. Complacency. I despise it. To me, it’s the worst trait we have developed as Americans. As citizens of the world, actually. Complacency makes us decide that the path of least resistance is the best course. Complacency makes it easy for us to do nothing. We don’t speak up. We don’t react well. Proactivity? What’s that?

I am tired of complacency. I want people to speak up. I want people to stop thinking they can’t change anything, so it’s not worth it to even try. As a kid, if I was doing something wrong I expected adults to reprimand me. For the record, as a kid, the worst thing I did was chase a neighbor boy down the street and occasionally cut through someone’s yard when I shouldn’t have. Those minor infractions got me a scolding by adult neighbors. I deserved it. That was everyone’s neighborhood and everyone had a stake in it. You can’t have kids running through peoples’ yards and trampling flower beds. They were right to speak up.

So why is it so rare for people to speak up nowadays? Is it our general fear of a lawsuit? We are an insanely litigious society that sues for the most ridiculous things. I can understand someone not wanting to get involved in a situation because they don’t want to deal with the ramifications of engagement. But I still think that’s bogus logic. Is it our media-fueled fear of violence that makes us hang back? Whatever it is, it’s absurd.

People don’t speak up when they see something wrong happening. This past weekend Matthew was waiting outside the grocery with Duke while I picked up a few things. A kid of about 7 or 8 walked over and shoved Duke. He just walked up to the dog, grabbed his hips, and shoved him. Matthew saw this kid’s father standing about 20’ away talking on his cell phone. He grabbed the kid by the arm and marched him over to his dad. The guy wouldn’t acknowledge that Matthew was standing there. He had to tell the guy to get off the phone and pay attention. If a stranger had my kid by the arm you better believe I’d be paying attention! He told the guy he needed to explain to his son that it is dangerous to antagonize a dog, especially one you don’t know, and that if his kid had done that to another dog he very well could have been bitten. They guy acted like he didn’t speak English (he was speaking English a little later when I saw him) and turned his back on Matthew to continue his phone call. Matthew told the kid’s sister, who was also there being ignored by their father, that her brother could get seriously hurt and that she should keep an eye on him until their dad got off the phone.

Later that same day we were in the city and a handicapped access bus was parked on 8th Ave. The doors opened and trash started flying out onto the street. The doors closed. Not being one to see something wrong happen and say nothing about it, I marched up to the bus doors and knocked with a big smile on my face. “Why did you do that?” Bus driver responded, “What are you talking about?” I explained that I saw him toss trash onto the street and I was wondering when he was going to pick it up. He said he didn’t do it, even though he was holding the empty plastic bag he had just dumped out. An exchange followed, in which I told him that no one is so entitled that they can litter… I said I live here, too, and I don’t want to have trashy streets… he said if I was so concerned that I should pick it up... he called me a bitch and told me to fuck off… I said my husband had written down his plate # and that we were going to call and complain, just as soon as I picked up his mess because even though it was his responsibility it would be wrong for me to just leave his garbage on the street. He drove away screaming obscenities at me and flipping me off. I’m calling today to make a formal complaint. I picked up all his trash because even though I didn’t put it there, this city and this planet are everyone’s responsibility. There happened to be an empty vodka bottle in the same pile. I don’t know if it was his or not, but you can be damn sure I’ll mention that I picked it up when I talk to the company. If I don’t get an acceptably concerned response from the company, I’ll call the police. Littering is illegal. I have the license plate #.

People cannot keep watching others do things that are wrong and say nothing about it. Get involved. Nothing will change if we all stand idly by. What’s that saying? Democracy fails when good men do nothing. Well, society in general suffers when we all get complacent. The problems are big, but that doesn’t mean that individual actions have no effect. Take the chance. Even if it makes no difference at least you’ll know you tried.

Sick?

Ode to the pharmaceutical industry:

I'm tired, can't sleep tight.
My head hurts, don't feel right.
My life is depressing.
This wound needs clean dressing.
I'm weak, feel so helpless.
My legs, they're quite restless.
My whole body's aching,
My heart might be breaking.
My teeth, how they've yellowed.
My sex life? It's mellowed.
Not sure what to do,
I'm feeling so blue.
Just want it to stop,
Maybe some pill to pop?
I've shed many tears,
These ads play to my fears.
Everything has a name,
Ads say I'm not to blame.
I'm too fat, I'm too thin,
There are marks on my skin.
All those packs that I smoke,
They're now just a big joke;
Ads say I'm free and clear.
Same goes for my fat rear!
Take this pill, sip this drink;
No loose hairs in your sink!
Don't you want to look younger?
Swallow this, curb that hunger!
You're not yet medicated?
You should be educated.
These ads give so much info,
They all make me feel so...
Lazy
Energetic
Fat
Skinny
Hungry
Full
Happy
Sad
Better
Worse
Bought
Sold
Enabled
American
Pathetic

Yes.

Rep. Denis Kucinich from the great state of Ohio has introduced Articles of Impeachment to be exhibited to the United States Senate. The powers that be finally have proof enough on paper (after the report released this week) that our President and his cohorts conspired to start a war based on lies. This is the first step toward impeachment. Many people are outraged, most of the ones I know are thrilled. It is so obvious that our country invaded Iraq based on false information. False information was knowingly used to ramp up support for invasion even when there was nothing to back it up. Years have passed and thousands of people have been killed. I do not understand why there is a case to be made for the status quo. It is unfathomable to me that we would not impeach our president.

What pisses me off to no end is how loud and inattentive the House was during Rep. Kucinich's turn at the podium. Notice at :34 seconds how he has to tell Madame Speaker that the House wasn't in order. Why the hell wasn't she calling order again before he started speaking on her own accord?

How much is too much?

I am often among the first to stick up for liberal civil policy, artistic freedoms, personal choice, expression of any sort as long as no one gets hurt. That said, I've discovered a new found hesitance within myself when it comes to film/television that depicts graphic violence and extreme acts of depravity.

Case in point: my reaction to M. Knight Shamaylan's new movie The Happening. Have you seen the trailers? 3 particular bits spring to mind - 1) a man who lays himself down in front of a thresher, 2) a woman who stabs her own neck with a letter opener while sitting in Central Park, and 3) people throwing themselves off buildings in Manhattan.

The premise of this film is that there is an unseen, unidentified force that is sweeping in and affecting people in very bad ways. Namely, they kill themselves. They kill themselves quite calmly, as a matter of fact. Which, I must say, is a very creepy way to kill yourself. Anyway, this shit makes me nuts.

As if the death by thresher wasn't enough, the people tossing themselves off the building is enough to put me over the edge. I don't want to be one of those people who thinks everything is disrespectful to the memory of those who died on 9/11, one of those people who is hypersensitive about firefighters, skyscrapers, and terrorism... but there are some things that are a little too close to actual events for comfort. People throwing themselves off buildings is one of those things.

9/11 sensitivity aside, I still think this movie is pretty screwed up. At least, the visual representation of this "unseen force" is pretty screwed up. It's like they thought of 10 more things to freak Americans out with. 10 more things that housewives all over the country will suddenly be paranoid about. 10 more things that will end up on a Dateline NBC investigation next time sweeps roll around. 10 more things that will spur the manufacture of a drug made to counteract the anxiety they cause. I find it offensive because its just a pandering tactic to the lowest common denominator and somehow that bothers me. Do we need to have every last graphic detail shown to us? Have we lost all powers of imagination?

5 days

This week is going to either fly by or drag like an old, blind snail with a limp.

It is my last week of work with the Awful Company. These are the last 5 days I'll be working for the organization which has done nothing but screw up my job for the past 8 months.

Remember when they announced they were closing the office and gave us all an end date for our employment? Psych! How about a month later when they asked some of us to stay and work remotely? Then the office closed and no provisions were made to move everyone's equip home, so Matthew drove into the city and moved 4 people into their home offices in Brooklyn without so much as a "thanks" from the company. Good times. Oh yeah, what about the day that I found out the useless woman who stole my plant got a massive promotion (yes, you read that right - a grown, professional woman stole my plant)? I especially liked the day we had a stress management seminar... which was so poorly done it was hilarious. I clearly remember the day they were supposed to pay me my bonus and then didn't, which meant I had to scramble to figure out how to pay for our wedding.

I will finish this week no matter how fast or slow it goes and then I will take a well deserved week off. I know I just took a honeymoon, so it might seem silly to say the time off is "well deserved", but I need this time. I need to, paraphrasing Lynilu here, shake off the crap before I start anew. I want to start my new job fresh and ready to jump in and get my hands dirty, not exhausted and frazzled, still coming down from the frenzy of Awful Company.

It's time for Berlin

Today we decided to take the subway to see how real Czechs get around the city. We like to experience the places we go as authentically as possible. Sounds like a good idea, right?

Wrong. It resulted in a 700 crown ticket for each of us. That's about $85. Long story. Bottom line is this: if you ride the trains in Prague, make sure you get a stamp from the obscure looking green box after you buy your ticket. Without that stamp, regardless of whether you have paid the right amount of money, you can get a ticket from the eerily communist looking inspector.

We're so happy to be going to Berlin in the morning.

Prosim = please

Prague is mobbed. The whole universe is vacationing here this weekend. Every street is crowded beyond capacity. Every site is crammed with people. I think half of Germany is here. Let me say something snarky - Hey Germans, stop being such dicks! You cannot take up an entire sidewalk and act like you don't see someone who needs to get past you and your schnitzel-eating fat ass. What is it with Germans and awful tourist manners? And English, don't get so bloody drunk that you stumble, trip on the cobblestones, then create a pile of idiots groaning about whatever football team you're into in the middle of New Town Square. Stag weekends are not excuses for foolish and offensive behavior in a foreign country simply because you can afford the beer here.

The beer here is remarkably good. People drink it with breakfast, and no, I am not kidding at all. We had one with eggs this morning and we'll probably have another 2 with lunch. Pivo, prosim!



That being said, Americans, can you please learn some Czech before you fly all the way over here? Please, thank you, excuse me, good day.... those are not literary marvels that can only be mastered by a linguist. It takes only a moment to utter a phrase in Czech and it makes the biggest difference to the people who live in the city you've just invaded. So far, you Americans haven't been an embarrassment. I've been pleasantly surprised, I must say. But this language thing is irritating. Just learn a few words, ask a local how to say something - then say that same thing to the next person you talk to. It's brought a smile to the faces of everyone I've spoken to so far.

Tick, tock, tick, tock

Every hour that passes reminds me of something else I need to do, something else to take care of before the big day. There are so many little things to set in place. Does everyone have what they need? Have I remembered the details of everything? Can I manage to get all the specifics I have carefully filed in my brain out of their hiding places so other people will know what needs to be done?

You might think I'm talking about the wedding. I'm actually talking about work - getting ready to be away from work for 2 & 1/2 weeks is a very stressful undertaking. Not only do I have to make sure my clients are well looked after, but I have to explain the ins and outs of each project to a coworker who is backing me up while I'm away. Explaining a project entails documenting every last, little thing that needs to be done and this process takes hours. I'm drained.

It's only Tuesday. I know time will fly by and before I know it I'll be married, back from the honeymoon, and onto a better job... but today and tomorrow are filled with tough meetings and irritating items to checked off the to-do list.

OK, I get it, but c'mon!

I am aware that I sound like a sourpuss. I know I seem intolerant and small-minded. I don't care.

I'm sick of hearing about the pope being here.

It's been 3 weeks of constant media barrage about the pope this, the pope that. He's coming here. Yep. He's in New York. Uh huh. He's going to a synagogue. OK. He's meeting with people. Yeah. He's going to go to the bathroom and take showers and fart a bunch, too, but I don't need to hear all about it.

I don't need to know what the man is going to eat when he's here. I don't need to see an insiders' perspective from the caterer who is going to be making him dinner. It's great that there are paramedics assigned to him, but I don't need to know the backstory on every one of those peoples' lives. Yes, the pope is going to be driven on a certain route to the synagogue, but I don't want to see 3 different news crews driving the route and explaining the traffic patterns.

There is real news out there. We are in a war. People were murdered today. There are diseases that are being researched. The pope is coming. I got it. Tell me what he did when he was here after he's done it. Don't give me 3 weeks of previews and make the general media into Catholic TV.

The Dalai Lama went to Seattle last week. I saw one blurb about it. 'Nuff said.

UPDATE: The pope's arrival in DC is now preempting all other network broadcasts. It's been going on for half an hour. For the first 20 minutes it was a simple shot of a camera fixed on the open door of the plane. Wow. How thrilling. A plane. With an open door. The pope's in there. Wow. Oh, look, he came out. Now he's walking. Oh my. He walks.

The big "D"

Disappointment. It looms like a dark cloud. It likes to sneak up on you when you think things are fine. It lurks in the shadows waiting for an opportune moment to pounce on you and catch you off guard like some weak prey on the Serengeti.

Today it got me. It sprang up from the depths and grabbed me to take me down.

Remember the bonus I was counting on from work? The one based on closing the office and transitioning accounts? The one that was earmarked for the wedding? The one that was going to pay for all of the catering in one fell swoop? It was scheduled to come in today's paycheck. I've had multiple conversations with the higher-ups about this - confirming scheduling, payout amount, underscoring the importance of this money as it was going to pay for the bulk of my wedding. Oh yes, the higher-ups told me, no problem, you'll see it on 4/11, no need for worry.

I checked my bank balance this morning and only my regular paycheck is there. No bonus.

A payroll oversight? A financial mistake? An easily rectifiable issue? Nope. No human error caused this. It just wasn't approved. There were, of course, stipulations on the bonus - things like financial clean up for outstanding projects, documenting the process for each client, etc. Well, my client's financials couldn't be totally cleaned up because they are amazingly slow at issuing purchase orders and the rest of the documentation I need to be able to invoice them. They've admitted this. A VP of the company wrote an email to the larger group letting them know that as much as I have done for cleanup there is little that is in my control since the delays are on the client side.

The VP wrote this email. My bonus still didn't get approved. Did anyone bother to let me know that it was in jeopardy? Nope. The answer given to me this morning was that as soon as they're satisfied that I've done everything I can on my end to get the documentation we need the bonus will get approved. Excuse me, but I thought the email from the VP pretty clearly stated that was the case.

So now, I scramble. I scramble to come up with money I don't have for a wedding that is happening 2 weeks from tomorrow. I have no guarantees that the bonus will even be paid in the next paycheck. I'm angry and upset, but more than anything I'm insulted because they lied to my face. They told me everything was in order when it wasn't. These are the same people who penalized me on my recent performance review because my "reaction to the news of the office closure was negative". Was I supposed to be jumping for joy? Then they said that since other people looked to me to set the mood in the office it contributed to a negative environment. So, it was held against me that people were upset about the office closing... as if they would have been thrilled if I were positive about it. As if my negative reaction caused everyone to think, "Wait a second, this is a shitty thing that's happening to us after all! Melissa is so right. We never would have realized this without her!"

I'm getting my bonus, I'm taking my honeymoon, and then I'm out. It's new job time. Even my mom, who is always one to tow the party line, said to me this morning that it's time to leave because "they don't treat you very well at all."

Duh.

(image courtesy of Natalie Dee)

Don't know what to say

There are few times when I have insufficient words to express myself. I am a wordy and effusive person by nature. Sometimes a subject stops me cold and I find that language escapes me.

Right now I am listening to NPR as I work. Truth be told, I've stopped working momentarily because I need some time to compose myself. There is an interview going on right now on our local NYC NPR affiliate with Benjamin Skinner, a journalist who has spent years researching and going undercover to explore the perils of modern slavery. His book, A Crime So Monstrous details the shocking fact that there are more slaves in the world today than at any other time in history. Surprised? I was.

I could hop a flight right now to Port au Prince, Haiti and in a mere 5 hours from the time I left my apartment I could be negotiating the price of a child in the open air, broad daylight. Mr. Skinner did this. He told the slave trader he was a journalist and he wanted to talk to him about his work. To his shock, the man was open with him about the buying and selling of children. To see how far the trader would go Mr. Skinner asked him how long it would take to get a child. 3 days. What skills should the child have? Cooking, cleaning, she would sleep on the floor, she would not be sent to school. The trader asked if the child would be used also as "a partner". Mr. Skinner tried to keep his composure as he answered, "Yes, if that's possible". The trader said the price would be $100. Eventually it was negotiated down to $50.

$50 for the life of a child. I have no words.

In Bucharest, Mr. Skinner was undercover at a slave trader's place of business and told the man he wanted a young woman. The trader quickly brought out 2 girls. One showed visible signs of Downs Syndrome and makeup had been hastily applied to her face in an effort to make her saleable. She was crying and the makeup was running down her face. Mr. Skinner was told he could have her for the trade of a used car.

This happens every day. Just because we don't see it doesn't mean it isn't going on. We can't sit by and do nothing. Action is needed.

How many more?

4,000 American soldiers dead since the Iraq War started. I don't feel much like blogging today.

Blech

So busy with work...

Don't have time to write proper post...

Hate it.

Going to the recording studio tonight to lay down some background vocals on Matthew's band's new record. That shall be cool.

It's official

New York has our first black governor. Our first legally blind governor. Our first governor who has had to take the reigns mid-term because the man we elected got caught patronizing prostitutes. Nice. I can't help but feel sorry for David Paterson. He didn't get into office because he was elected. He got there because the guy above him stuck his willy in women and paid for it.

Paterson has an uphill battle ahead of him. Republicans in our state are going to be watching his every move and scrutinizing him even more than they usually would due to the circumstances of his appointment. I wish him the best. He represented Harlem for 2 decades, so I'm looking forward to seeing how he'll treat NYC in Albany. One of Spitzer's last acts was a budget cut for NYC schools to help out struggling upstate communities. My teacher friends aren't too happy about that. I hope Paterson makes solid decisions and sets a tone in this state that shows it's OK to have a non-white guy at the helm. It's about time.

Lastly, Spizter has teenage duaghters. That makes his dalliances even more disturbing. Way to scar them for life, you jerk. They're teenagers, do you have any idea what this will do to them? They know their father was booted out of office because he screwed chicks and paid for it. If you're at all intelligent/compassionate/alive you will get them to a counselor immediately. No group on earth is better at taking personal blame for things that aren't their fault than teenage girls.

JERK!

Hey, Spitzer, the next time you get caught patronizing a prostitution ring try not to make your "apology" speech sound just like every other speech you've made. You know, like the one where you touted the values of public education. Or when you discussed the issue of poverty in our New York neighborhoods. Employment and health insurance used to be hot topics for you. Remember that time when you tried to institute a policy that would allow undocumented immigrants to get drivers' licenses? You seemed sincere. You delivered all of those speeches with the same self-assured, authoritative, confident tone you brought to your speech today... where you said, "I have disappointed and failed to live up to the standard I expected of myself. I must now dedicate some time to regain the trust of my family." Pardon me, but I think you must now actually be held accountable to the same set of laws the people of your state are obligated to follow. No offense, but you have a lot more to worry about than the fact that you screwed your family out of any sense public peace or happiness.

For what it's worth, I despise the fact that Spizter Swallows is still the lead story on the Times' website. I know it's news. But there's something about a war somewhere... where the hell were they yammering on about yesterday? Oh yeah - Iraq. There's a war there. Or how about the recession? Presidential campaigns? Gitmo torture tactics? How about we focus on something other than our governor's criminal sexual tastes. I mean really, if that douche wants to spend $4k/hour to have Cheyenne or Cynnamin get him off I don't care. Get out of the office that my taxes pay for and then you can do all the pathetic hooker diddling you want, Spizter. I hope your wife has a good lawyer. You certainly don't seem to be one... seeing as you... broke... the... law. You'd think going to law school would make you remember those pesky little regulations better than the average Joe.

I guess there's a silver lining: If Spizter resigns (like he should) Lt. Gov. David Paterson will serve the rest of term... and he'd be NY's first black gov. Plus, he's legally blind. Neat factoid.

Fierce. Or something like it.

*SPOILER ALERT: If you don't want to know who won Project Runway you should stop reading now*

There is something empowering about watching someone's dream come true. It's inspiring. It makes the possibility of your own dreams a little more realistic. It shows you that there is a way to get things done. It puts a tangible spin on a very conceptual idea.

While it is uplifting and wonderful to see someone else's dream become their reality, it is also a crushing reminder that your dreams are still just that - dreams. Your reality is the same as it was yesterday, the same as it will be tomorrow. The same, that is, unless you change it. Unless you do something to shake up the mix.

Are you any closer to your dreams than you were yesterday? I can safely say that I am closer to some and farther away from others. The ones that I've moved away from aren't the ones I've decided to let fall by the wayside, they're the ones I want very much but have done nothing to attain.

Tonight I watched Christian, that little snivelling punk, win Project Runway. He's talented, very talented. He sees things that most people don't see and he works with fabric in a way that is transformational and artistic. His dream came true. And you know what? He didn't get to the top by being nice to everyone. Anyone who watched the show knows he's no fairy godmother. He got to the top by talent and audacity alone. I could learn a good lesson from him. I could. I should. Maybe I will.