Present Imperfect

Sick Leave

March 28, 2004

I know this looks really bad, but I have a good excuse this time: I've got consumption! Okay, it's probably just a chest cold, but it jacked me up for an entire week and I'm still not done coughing up parts of my insides. Anyway, I promise to do better this week.

Last night I dreamt an entire movie. I woke up at 4 a.m. thinking I was a genius, but at 9 a.m., that seemed a little less likely. It was about a kid who was abused on an annual family trailer camping trip, and the kid tells the entire story in first person in yearly installments (though not chronologically), in and around the trailer. The best line went something like "Why does everyone think I forgot what happened when I got older?" Okay, now, that looks stupid, but imagine it uttered into the camera at dusk in the desert outside Albuquerque by an eight-year-old who is doomed to be sexually abused at 11. Harrowing, yes? Especially in a really grainy, jumpy, digital print. In my head. At 3 a.m.

I had this dream for two reasons. First, I read two reviews of a play I will probably never see, "Frozen," which is about a woman whose daughter is kidnapped and murdered, a criminal psychologist and the criminal who did the kidnapping and murdering. Second, I am reading the His Dark Materials trilogy by Philip Pullman and I am saddened that these books weren't around when I was a kid. Holy shit, they're good. That's probably not going to make it as a pull-quote on the back of the next printing, but that's how I feel. They're basically guidebooks for the practicing agnostic. Plus, you know, ripping yarns.

Zombies, Lunatics and Porn

March 22, 2004

I'm feeling a little ill today (hacking cough), but that's better than how I felt last night (weirdly depressed).

Driving home from the 4:15 showing of "Dawn of the Dead," which was fairly amusing, I got into a yelling fight with a crazy person as I was turning onto Hollywood from Vine. I must have been on edge from all the zombies, because I was yelling "fuck you!" really loudly out of my open car window. Eric can back me up on this: I was on the phone with him at the time, which is why the crazy guy was yelling at me.

I rarely talk on the phone while I'm driving, but I was doing exactly that last evening. As I approached the intersection, I stopped on green even though I was turning right because there was someone in the Hollywood Blvd. crosswalk. In the Vine crosswalk directly in front of me was the crazy guy, yelling at me to get off my phone. I completely understand this sentiment if it involves a driver who is paying no attention to pedestrians while on said phone. I, on the other hand, was paying too much attention to pedestrians, having subsequently gotten into a screaming match with this particular one. I had done nothing to compromise this man's safety, so in my defense, I shouted very loudly that I was stopped on green because "there was someone in the fucking crosswalk!!" That did not appease him, and he shouted back that I should get off the phone "or he would take everything" from me. I assume he was referring to legal action, which amused me even as I continued my tirade, because this guy clearly had no idea how little everything I have is worth. Was he enticed to fake sue me by my luxurious 1995 Subaru station wagon?

Anyway, the whole thing freaked me out and made me wonder if I had done something horrible while driving and talking. Did I encroach on the crosswalk? Did he have a walk signal? I know neither of these things is true, but I had begun to think of myself as one of those car-driving, phone-talking assholes. I was really on edge when I got home, so instead of going out to dinner, I opted to eat a really crappy Trader Joe's veggie burger and drink a glass of wine. But that only made me sad (because it is sad).

Today, I feel better emotionally (fuck that crazy fucking fucker!) but worse physically. That did not stop me from visiting The Erotic Museum at lunchtime in order to write about it for blogging.la.

Another Day, Another Blog

March 20, 2004

Today I published my very first post to blogging.la.

I guess it took a lot out of me, because I can't think of anything else to write about here. Or maybe I'm just hungry.

The Rain in Spain

March 18, 2004

I was going to kick off this post with a quote from Maureen Dowd's latest op-ed piece regarding the Republican stance on the Spanish elections. But I just can't. I couldn't discuss it last night with Eric and I can't do it now. I don't want my little corner of cyberspace to be darkened by the all-too-likely prospect of a totalitarian United States, in which gays can't marry, freedom of speech is trampled by the Conservative Christian elite, millions have no access to health care, Roe v. Wade is rolled back and our president feels free to invade countries as he and his checkbook see fit. Frankly, this country is making me sick to my stomach, and I can't bear sharing that right now. Well, not anymore than I just have, anyway.

So, if you think this blog is just one person's attempt to stick her fingers in her ears and sing "LALALALALALALALA!" until the monsters go away, well, that's just fine. Right now, that's the best I can manage. I'm mentally hamstrung from fear and it's only going to get worse over the next eight months (and possibly beyond).

Elsewhere in the world, things don't seem so bleak. I'm talking about Spain. Not because of the elections or the public reaction to last week's bombings, but because of Forum Barcelona 2004. The official Forum Web site says that "Three main themes define the Forum: Cultural diversity, sustainable development and conditions for peace," and it will feature "dialogues" covering these three themes between the public and speakers, according to the NYT travel profile, from "superstars like Mikhail S. Gorbachev, Bill Clinton (whose attendance was still pending), Bono and Noam Chomsky to New York-area heroes like Cora Weiss, the 1960's New York peace advocate, and the urbanist Jane Jacobs, who will appear on video."

But beyond that, the Forum will also feature musical performances (from Britten's War Requiem to Norah Jones), theater (Camus's "Caligula") and art exhibits ("Picasso: War and Peace" and the Warriors of Xian), all situated around the city's spectacular architecture, some of which is being erected especially for the Forum.

Plus, tapas!

Let's go!

My Water Cooler Is Better Than Your Water Cooler

March 17, 2004

Today I was informed that some of my coworkers were casually brainstorming catchier names for crotchless panties and came up with "Pissables."

Honestly, sometimes I long to have a normal job.

hey ... attractive ... humanoid ... need ... a ... lift?

March 14, 2004

Last night I had a dream that all of the robot vehicles competing in the Darpa desert race started brushfires and "ignited controversy," as the imaginary L.A.-based newscaster in my head said (and I'm sure the real ones have said countless times before).

Imagine my surprise when I woke up today to read that none of the entered vehicles lasted more than seven miles. The Carnegie-Mellon (go, Pittsburgh!) robot Hummer managed that feat, but to be fair, one of its front wheels caught fire after it barreled through a fence and took out a post. Another vehicle flipped over and started leaking fuel, so maybe my brushfire dream wasn't all that far off the mark.

Everyone's putting on a brave face, saying that building the perfect autonomous ground vehicle is not about one day of racing, but when you sink $3.5 million into your robot Hummer, you can't tell me you're not crying a river when it only goes seven miles.

Here's the saddest tale, though: one "entry, Ladibug, never made it past the starting gate, despite having been blessed by two Buddhist monks in orange robes from the Wat Thai, a temple in Los Angeles."

I'm a dog. No, seriously.

March 11, 2004

It's been awhile since the first installment of The Bronwyn Files, and I know everyone is clamoring for more. Give the people what they want, that's what I always say.

Today I went to Google Images and typed in "Bronwyn." I saw this experiment on another blog, but my results proved strangely pet-heavy. I've already mentioned that Margaret Cho has a dog named Bronwyn. I guess that should have prepared me for the Bronwyn the Sheep, Bronwyn the Horses and Bronwyn the Dogs.

In non-self-indulgent news, we are so totally screwed. The Senate Commerce Committee blows goats (preferably ones that are not named Bronwyn).

Wait...is that a fine for $500,000 or are you just happy to see me?

The Temple and The Lodge and The Gun

March 10, 2004

I'm feeling a bit conflicted about this NYT article about a shooting in a Masonic Lodge.

At first I was seduced by the teaser line: "Ritual Gone Fatally Wrong Puts Light on Masonic Secrecy." I mean, everyone loves to hear creepy stories about the Masons, right?

Then I saw the photograph of the 76-year-old man who pulled the wrong pistol (the one with live rounds, not the one with blanks) out of his pocket and fatally shot a fellow Mason in the face during some weird prank/ritual.

Then I thought about the fact that this man was licensed to carry a handgun, and how the NRA will probably be making an appearance in Patchogue next week or so, just to make sure that everyone knows how very important it is to protect our second-amendment rights.

MyTV, Unplugged

March 08, 2004

I don't really watch television. I can't watch television because while we do have a television, it doesn't get any channels. I pay $50 a month to get DSL and I just don't think another $50 for cable is a bargain. I would do it if I could get only HBO, an all-Simpsons channel, KCET, BBC America and NFL Sunday Ticket. But such a package does not exist, and if you want all those things (except the imaginary Simpsons one I made up), you have to get a bunch of crap you don't want. So I don't have cable, and we don't get any local reception. That said, I rely on Netflix and the kindness of friend Kel and his Ultimate TV for the occasional fix ("Angel," football, "The Sopranos," "Sex and the City"), so I'm not completely out of it, boob-tube wise.

However, until Saturday, I had never seen an episode of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy." While catsitting at my boss's house, I took advantage of her 50-inch television screen (and her large-capacity washer and dryer) to settle in for a late morning of soothing cathode rays. When I ran across "Queer Eye," I thought "finally, I can see what all the kids are talking about."

My verdict: It was pretty good, I guess. It would be hard to live up to the hype. Maybe I just saw a ho-hum episode: Musical theater composer gets Queered up in time to showcase his latest work. The Fab 5 buy him a leather sectional, repaint his pad, throw away all the moldy food in the fridge, buy him new clothes and introduce him to the producer of "Rent." It was a little disappointing. Honestly, I was hoping for a makeover. This dude needed a haircut, at the very least. It's also probably more fun to watch the show with other people, instead of three cats who really can't contribute to the experience by tossing out bitchy one-liners.

I told Eric that I had watched the show and he reacted with disdain (amusingly, one of his more common reactions), saying that he thought the show merely reinforced stereotypes. He said that everyone would find a show called "Five Black Guys Teach You How to Rap and Play Basketball" offensive. I told him he should consider a catchier title.

Anyway, the food and wine guy is awesome.

Tastes Like Chicken

March 05, 2004

I can't possibly be the first person to blog about this, but I just gotta.

Every night, on my drive home from work, I pass two McDonald's bus shelter ads. One of them features a woman grinning wildly and gazing up at a bunch of Chicken McNuggets. The copy reads: "I love 'em as much as my kids!" Holy shit! Those must be some truly delicious Chicken McNuggets! Either that, or your children are hellspawn.

The other ad features an elderly gentleman looking slyly at a stack of pancakes as the words "Pour it on me, baby!" hover above his head. Eep.

Hangin' with My Chad

March 04, 2004

In an effort to break out of my NYT rut, I went to Slate.com (even though it's straight outta Redmond) and found this article on the rather odd timing of John Edwards's concession.

See, voters in California--the state with the largest take of delegates, not just on Super Tuesday, but forever and ever--found out that Edwards was throwing in the towel three full hours before the polls closed. Good news for people who voted after work. Bad news for chumps like me who got up early and voted for Edwards at 7:30 in the friggin' morning. Bad news for a bunch of lazy-ass Californians who decided not to vote at all because the primary matter was settled, and let's face it, that's way more exciting than, oh I don't know, the state Senate race and billions of dollars in bond measures. But even though I cast my vote in the a.m., I thought maybe I would have some idea of how the tide was turning before I voted, because I assumed someone would be posting exit polls and I'd have a three-hour leg up on all the east coast states. No dice. Why did Florida have to ruin the game for everyone?!

In the end, though, I guess I did myself a favor by casting a useless vote for someone I shouldn't have voted for anyway. Was it his boyish charm? Was it his smooth-as-a-mint-julep-in-July accent? Was it the Tenacious D. endorsement? Who cares?! He voted yes on the war. I shoulda voted for Kucinich. Or Al Sharpton, just to mix up the delegate pool a little.

Then again, at 7:30 PST, I thought Edwards still had a chance.

Damn! This Tuesday is Super!

March 02, 2004

Happy Super Tuesday, everybody! So, how about that new Inkavote system? Personally, I found the punch-card system more cathartic. But I guess you could get a nice buzz from Inkavote fumes if you put your face close enough to the ballot. It's a toss up, really.

Outside the precinct, a woman was taking a poll. She said, "we're asking people if they're in favor of same sex..." to which I replied "YES!" before she finished speaking. I just assumed she was talking about marriage, but then she said "...whaling" and I was horrified!

Um, just kidding. She was asking about my stance on same-sex marriage, which I am all for, because I am not an insane bigot hellbent on amending the United States Constitution for the purposes of denying rights. Also, I do not understand the logic that a same-sex marriage somehow undermines the institution of marriage as a whole. I guess what that nice man in the White House means is that if everybody could do it, it wouldn't be special, right? Same goes for riding at the front of the bus. Oh, wait...

Right now, I'm hopped up on jicama and the prospect of minor weblog fame. I just got a really nice e-mail from someone who stumbled across my blog, and I got a comment from Mark in Amsterdam who keeps a brilliant blog that chronicles "the thoughts and observations of a Portugese-American radical activist-journalist." Go read it.