twas the perfect sunday till...

when i got out of bed this morning, i knew i'd spend much of today thinking and writing. for the first time in weeks, i feel rested. i awoke happy that my puppy let me sleep till almost noon, that i found a most lovely letter from my love, and i was super stoked to take apart both of my newspapers whilst my coffee brewed and i fired up the tele for this morning's meet the press.

what i didn't think i'd be writing about was my great disappointment with the american people. i've long and often ranted about the morons out there with voting pens, those dingalong followers who hang onto every insipid lie-of-a-word spoken by the fear-mongering right, who cannot utilize a single brain cell to think rationally through their feelings of terror and their fear of terrorists. but after making it through my favorite section of the ny times, and not knowing whether to post frank's column, maureen's, tom's, or shockingly nick's, i'm here to write my own about the burlington-coat-factory-community-center that's got the fear mongers and their herd of dipshits in an uproar.

it's all we've heard about all week, right? i mean, how many people saw general patraeus on meet the press last sunday, or listened to him in any number of the other mediums he's visited this past week to try to sell his cause in afghanistan to a weary america? i'd say a much smaller percentage than saw and heard all the nonsense about the "9/11 mosque" (such bullshit that description is!). funny how, and this is all frank rich, the same hawks who beg and scream for patience with the afghanistan war are the same ones comparing muslims to nazis: the irony being that they want us to fight a war and build a nation for those they label nazis at home. frank rich calls it "putting politics over country".

i call it fucking deceitful (which might be one of the biggest reasons he has a column in the ny times and i'm over here at blogger (the other being that i also like to write about my dog, life in the district, and all the other mundane "nonsense" that drives some of my readers to the brink of insanity)). and to what end? i'm clearly not the only person who recognizes that muslims around the world are watching this debate, with visions of sugary terrorist recruitment dancing in their heads.

or as maureen dowd poignently pointed out, using charles mackay quotes in her column today, "of all the offspring of time, Error is the most ancient, and is so old and familiar an acquaintance, that Truth, when discovered, comes upon most of us like an intruder, and meets the intruder's welcome... a misdirected zeal in matters of religion befogs the Truth most egregiously."

so why i ask - myself, all of you, and the entirety of the world, is it that a respected "news organization" (not respected by me as the case may be), with billions of dollars in its coffers and millions of dedicated followers can so fervently, and without even the slightest hesitation in decency, flaunt error with such zeal to so egregiously befog the truth, to the detriment of not just democrats in upcoming elections, but the safety, security, and health of americans at home and those sacrificing their lives for "nazis - afghans i mean -" abroad?

and can we really wonder why it is that i'd rather think about and write about chicken bones, bluto, my dog, and my love?

i think not.

~k

rainy days

when i lived in southern california, a rainy day meant a day indoors. i didn't go to work, didn't run errands, canceled plans, and pretty much canceled life till the storm passed. here, that would be impossible because it rains too much to hold up a 'hold' sign.

my morning started trying to convince miss scarlet to go potty while the rain drenched her fair coat. i failed. but i did make it into the office, to a lunch meeting down the street (with a couple of bad asses from georgetown, i might add), back home to give the rain pee another whirl, and then a hop into the car to maryland for dinner.

sidebar: the car thing is probably worthy of its own blog post, as tonight was only the third time i've seen the mini since moving to the district. i pay $200 per month for the privilege of parking in the city, a cost offset by the fact that my insurance has shrunk in half and i've still got 3/4 of the same tank of gas i drove into town with nearly two months ago. i just have to remind myself to drive her around the block at least once a week so she'll start on command (tonight took a few attempts to turn over the engine).

the point here being that the rain doesn't halt life as it did not all that long ago. it doesn't even really suck. no matter how i mighta felt about the rain back in so cal, here it's just part of my life. it's something that makes getting out of bed harder, causes me to miss my boyfriend even more than usual by per its particularly romantic nature, and makes me feel like a bad ass for not letting it stop me from kicking the day's ass.

~k

afraid of my space

though i've been here several times the past week, i've written not a word. it's not that i haven't had anything to say, it's that i'm afraid to say it. afraid to be myself in my own space, observe what i will, say what i will, live as i will. as though it's my responsibility to live up to other people's ideal of me.

how fucked up is that?

like seriously, how could i let someone else's assholio comments get to me so deeply? i pride myself on not giving too much of a shit about what other people think, and here i am cowering from my own blog. in spite of the outpouring of support from those of you who love me just as i am, instead of how you think i should be, i am still here in stumble mode.

maybe getting it out here will get it out of my head, and knock whatever's standing in my way right off its post. or at least i can hope...

~k

the beauty of _my_ blog

dear paris wagon guy -

this is my place. mine. my safe place to be me, express me, and be comfortable with me.

this is where i feel free to write what i will, express whatever tickles my fancy today, put out there whatever is on my mind. this is _my_ place to do with as i please. and if you don't like what i'm writing, then peace the eff out.

if i want to write about politics, i will. if i want to write about how madly in love with my boyfriend i am, or how much more amazing life is with a dog, or how the above two loves have changed my life's priorities, i will. if i want to write about discovering life in my new city, above and below her streets, this is my place to do so.

i am not here to be original, above and beyond what's new or important to me. i'm not here to satiate your need for me to be something greater than just a girl exploring her new city. and gosh, i sure do hate to disappoint my fans, but i'm just a girl exploring her new city with her new dog, whilst exploring new feelings for a new boyfriend.

if you want to come here and read about me, you are welcome. and you are even welcome to post comments that i won't delete. but don't you dare come to _my_ place and tell me what i should be doing here. this place is _mine_ not yours. and if you don't like that, then go away...

~k

the eeriness of a city sleeping

one of my favorite things about italy is the solitude of her morning. in venice in particular. too dark still to be morning long after it should, the only sounds being the faint swish of the brooms sweeping the streets of yesterday and the mild rushing of water through the canals, venice mornings have a hauntingly romantic feel about it.

dc mornings, on the other hand, though similarly dereft of life beyond the grumbling street sweepers, are more akin to the ruins abandoned by the traveling carnival. trash and half-eaten food everywhere, broken glass littering the walkways, dead rats strewn about, the smell of garbage drifting through air bogged down by soggy humidity, and a more americanized version of the street sweeper bitching about the pigs and the trough they make of the streets. notwithsanding its eww factor, dc mornings have their own air of intrigue.

and as different as their mornings can be, there really is something captivating in walking the streets of a city so typically swelling with life and sparkle, in those rare moments when even it gives in to the allure of sleep.

~k

the irony of time

i just saw a commercial referencing "back to school," and can't get my arms around the fact that summer is nearly over, any more than i can that zip's wedding wasn't a year ago. i mean, 6 june was only two months ago, even though it feels like it was 12. kinda like the fact that monday was five days ago, when feels a month and a day ago.

and it's not just the immediacy of time that feels so ironic. maybe it's just natural to wake up one day to find it all blending together: yesterday, today, and tomorrow. maybe it's normal to count every second in one direction with such focus that the ones the other way no longer add up. or maybe it's time's ultimate riddle to always be on the other side of fair.

~k

chicken bones

when i see chicken bones strewn all about the street, there's this picture of bluto in my mind. you know the guy, popeye's nemesis. a big, fat, really mean man with a mean laugh. i picture him with a KFC bucket in his hand, inhaling one chicken leg after the other, and haphazardly tossing the bones wherever they may land.

which is where they were five seconds before my dog got them into her mouth. sometimes i even have to go in and dig deep into her throat to pull them out. and. i. just. don't. understand.

well i didn't understand. not till a coupla weeks ago, when i saw bluto's twin on the corner, wearing the biggest size emergency vest the wmata makes, with his arm cuddling an entire bucket 'o chicken. i didn't stick around long enough to see if he took bites or just stuck the meaty end of the chicken leg into his mouth and gnawed off all the meat in a single gulp, but i've stuck around the neighborhood long enough to see that bluto has a dozen twins on u street...

~k