How is this fair?

Yeah, yeah, I know that life's not fair.  But listen.

When you allow the kids to wear their costumes to school for Halloween, but then forbid them to bring any toy weapons, wear masks or face paint or hats, and then have a costume contest, you perpetuate an extreme bias against the boys.  Because if you allow makeup, but not face paint, only the girls will have faces that match their costumes.  If you allow headbands and tiaras but not masks and hats, only the girls will have headwear that matches their costumes.  If you allow sparkly batons and magic wands but not plastic swords and obviously fake guns, only the girls will have props that match their costumes.  And without fail, girls are the ones who win the costume contests at school.  And I have to listen to "But Mom, I never even had a chance.  I couldn't wear my mask or helmet or bring my ray-blaster," and "Mom, it's not fair. You couldn't even tell what I was supposed to be without my face paint and sword/hatchet/mace."

And they're absolutely right.  If you're going to forbid certain costumes or parts of costumes, then don't have a freaking costume contest.

I swear, I get more and more irritated at PC-ness all the time.  This nation is feminizing its boys, and this is just another manifestation of it.  I don't want my boys to grow up thinking that weapons are evil.  I want them to grow up knowing when, where and how to use weapons should a legitimate need ever arise to do so when they're adults.  I don't want my boys growing up to believe that fairies and princesses are better than soldiers and cowboys.  Every character has its place, and those fairies are going to grow up to marry those cowboys, and they're going to expect those cowboys to know how to use a gun when a rattlesnake coils up on the back porch.  I don't want my boys to grow up thinking that only girls are allowed to play dress-up, when there are so many great firefighter, soldier, cowboy, alien, Darth Vader, Buzz Lightyear, and Superman costumes out there. Those girls aren't going to want some pansy-ass who can't fix anything or lift anything or pay for anything when they grow up.  No, they're going to want the knight in shining armor on a white stallion who is capable of rescuing anyone and solving any problem with confidence.  So why can't that knight-in-shining-armor-to-be wear his helmet and carry his plastic sword to kindergarten on Halloween, when the princess he will marry someday gets to wear her fancy dress, plastic high heels, and tiara and carry her sceptor all over school?

Tell me this is a joke. Please.

This has got to be one of the most absurd things I've ever seen.

I'm all for animal rights in regards to prevention of abuse and neglect.  But this is not only going off the deep end, it's doing a cannonball into a crowded pool.  In other words, a stupid idea that will make some people laugh and some people angry.

I love my pets and consider them part of my family, but I have never afforded them the same level of status as the humans I live with.  That would be absurd. This lawsuit hinges on the belief that animals should be afforded the same protection and rights as minor children or wards of the state - that is, those who are deemed incapable of making their own decisions and/or caring for themselves.  That alone ought to get it thrown out of court.  This is not about animal abuse or neglect.  The entire point of the suit is to have animals legally recognized as having human rights.

I've yet to find a single shred of logic in any of PETA's arguments here.  (Of course, I'd be hard-pressed to find a single shred of logic in most things PETA does.)  If the world ever gets to the point where animals are recognized as having the same rights as humans, we will have a real-life Planet of the Apes on our hands.

We do have a responsibility to care for the animals we own, and not abandon, abuse, or neglect them.  We also have a responsibility to not treat feral animals cruelly, or hunt them for sport.  But I don't believe the very issue of animals in captivity is abusive, nor do I believe the issue of animals working in captivity is equal to slavery in any way.  Animals have worked for humans for centuries.  A few examples include sled dogs, herding dogs, oxen, horses, elephants and camels.  Is there really a difference between pulling a sled or a plow and jumping out of the water or waving a flipper?  Both are trained, perform on demand, and rewarded when the task is done.  They are fed, groomed, and receive medical attention.  Frankly, the only resemblance to slavery I can see is the "perform on demand" part, which is what you do yourself every day when you go to work.  So what these animals really have is a job, one where they are trained to complete a task that is within their capabilities to perform, rewarded for completion of that task, and provided steady nourishment and medical care.  By contrast, in the wild they must find and sometimes fight for sustenance and suffer physical ailments, some excruciatingly painful and fatal, with no real purpose except to repeatedly reproduce (which can be harmful enough to the females, to say nothing of the impact on the environment of overpopulation.) In captivity, at least, reproduction is controlled to prevent overpopulation, or in some cases, to sustain that very population from demise.

I also do not believe that zoos are institutions of torture, nor do I believe that hunting  (for food) and/or eating meat perpetuates animal cruelty, but those are discussions for another time. Back to the topic at hand:

Animals are not, and should not be, eligible to belong to the status of humanity.  The end.

Fed Up

This week was fall break; we spent the first half in Virginia having fun.  We spent the second half in Kentucky, being lazy and then driving to Cincinatti yesterday to go to the Lego store.  Today is the last day of fall break and we spent all morning at the dentist, which launched me headfirst back into school-scouts-choir-chess-club-pta-mode, which I despise.

My kids like their activities, so I don't want to be a Grinch and make them stop participating.  I have limited them to two at a time because that is as far as my sanity will stretch without snapping.  They are in Scouts year-round, choir and chess club during the school year, and sports in the summer.  Against my better judgement, I also accepted the position of PTA VP of Programs at the baby's preschool this year.  I was told this involved writing and copying a newsletter for distribution once a month, which sounded simple enough.

I should have known better. I did know better. And I accepted anyway, because I figured, hey, it's just a preschool.  What could there really be to do for PTA in freakin' preschool?


The preschool my older two went to back home didn't even have a PTA.  Why not? Because it wasn't necessary.  The kids aren't even old enough yet to care about school carnivals and dances and canned food drives and book fairs and fundraisers and Super Kids Day.  They just like to go to school like the "big kids" and color pictures and learn their letters and colors and shapes and have snack.  The most I ever had to do there was throw a birthday party for them once a year and show up occasionally to help supervise a holiday fete or two.  I never had to devise games or make food to bring or decorate the school or handprint 110 kids in one afternoon.  I never had to spend entire DAYS at school writing up, copying, sorting, and distributing reminder notes for every insignificant stupid thing, plus the newsletter.  I was never expected to sell chocolate bars that nobody likes or raid my own pantry for food for school parties.

I have to say, after being in this PTA officer position for three months now, I still don't see the point of having a PTA in preschool. Everything we do could be done by the teachers and their assistants.  The only thing I could see needing parent volunteers for is the book fair, which is four days long.  At my kids' old preschool, the teachers and admins handled the selling and distribution of school t-shirts, holiday parties and special events like graduation.  They asked for parent volunteers to help with the one field trip per year, and to throw the kid a birthday celebration at school if you so chose.  Other than that, you dropped your little grunion off at the door and the teacher walked them out to your car at the end of the day.  Oh yeah, and the day was five and a half  hours long, five days a week, just one hour shorter than a regular elementary school day, so you could actually get something accomplished while the kid was there, like holding down a regular job or getting a master's degree.  Out here, they only go for three hours,  four days a week, which is just slightly longer than mothers-day-out.  I know some parents are going to argue, but it's preschool. They shouldn't be subjected to the rigors of a full school day before first grade.


And to that I say hooey.  My older two did just fine.  There was a period of adjustment, for a week or so, and then they were just fine. Better than fine, because they got to spend a large chunk of their day playing games, doing art projects, playing on the playground, learning their letters and shapes and numbers and even Spanish, for crying out loud, and then they got to come home and tell Mommy all about it.  And Mommy got to take a desperately needed nap with the new baby and work on a term paper and clean up the kitchen and go to the grocery store without dodging preschoolers underfoot.  And at the end of the day, everyone was mentally stable and mostly pleased with their accomplishments.

Here, I have three hours per day, four days a week to accomplish grown-up tasks like doctor appointments,  exercise, grocery shopping, errand running, and house cleaning.  Of those 12 hours per week, at least six of them are spent doing work up at the preschool. Thank God I got that master's degree out of the way back home, because I would never have time to study with the schedule I have now.

It's not just school, however.  Scouts is just as guilty.  Last year they demanded that every parent solicit donations for the end-of-year banquet, whether you wanted to or not.  They even distributed two cards to each family with the name, address, and item requested from each business.  I was appalled.  Look, if you don't want to do the dirty work associated with coordination donations for the banquet, then don't join the committee for it.  But certainly don't tell me and the other parents that it's our job.  I signed my kids up and paid the fees for you to be the Leader, not me.  I don't mind helping now and then, but I am repulsed by the fact that you require it of me, let alone that I detest solicitation in general.  I was in Camp Fire for ten years growing up, and never once were any of the parents asked, much less required, to assist with anything.  Look, I love my kids, but I don't want to spend my free time working with other people's kids.  If I did, I would have signed up to be Leader.

For decades, schools and teachers have begged for parent volunteers to help them manage all the tasks that go into providing our kids with an education.  My mother taught school for decades until moving into administration, so I lived, breathed, and ate "school" way more than the average kid.  All the work to be done in a school setting is not unfamiliar to me, but that doesn't mean I like doing it, especially if I'm not getting paid.  I don't mind showing up for parties and bringing food or treats; I don't mind going on field trips with my kids; I don't mind taking them to school early or picking them up late for chess club or lego club or choir.  But I don't like decorating the classroom or opening milk cartons at lunch or cleaning up easels and tables after fingerpainting and play-doh time.  I don't like standing in front of a copier for an hour or two, copying, sorting, and distributing newsletters, reminder notes, permission slips, and t-shirt order forms. The way I see it, that's the teachers' and admins' job.  I realize that schools are mostly government-funded, and as such, don't always have the resources necessary to do or buy everything they want for the kids.  And although I don't love it, I don't generally mind doing fundraising to help out with the financial burden.  But somewhere along the line, someone decided stay at home moms didn't have enough to do, so they could come up to school and do the drudgery work the teachers didn't want to do.  And before all you teachers out there jump on me at once about how you don't have time to do those things, and that's why you rely on parents to help out, let me ask you something.  If all this 'drudgery-work' is part of your job, why don't you have time to do it? Why is the "I don't have time" excuse considered valid?  It's certainly not considered valid in any other profession.  How long do you think you would have a job if you told your customers you didn't have time to make their product presentation look nice? Or if you told your patients you didn't have time to update their files with notes about their condition? Or if you told your clients you didn't have time to file the paperwork so their legal case is going to be drawn-out indefinitely? But that's exactly what teachers expect nowadays. They rely on, nay, expect, PTA moms and parent volunteers to do the work they don't want to or don't "have time" to do so they can focus on "being better teachers."

Are you kidding me? Should I then ask you to write up your own patient notes so I can spend that time "being a better doctor?" Should I ask you to write your own briefs for your case so I can spend that time "being a better attorney?"  Should I ask you to pick up the copies of my charts for my presentation to you for your ad campaign so I can spend that time "being a better consultant?"

I don't blame the teachers for starting this trend, however.  I blame the mothers.  Those mothers who couldn't find anything else to do with their time, so they decided to be helpful and see if their kid's teacher or school needed any busy work done for them.  That's great, for those who want to do it.  But schools and teachers have come to rely on that help so much over the generations that now they just request and expect it. If you have a full-time job outside the home, you're given a pass for actually being at school during the day, but you better be there for any evening activities that occur, lest you be accused of not taking an interest in your child's education.  In my experience, though, the PTA moms are the worst enforcers; they police the other parents' volunteer participation like prison guards at labor camps.

I am putting my foot down to this outrageous nonsense.  If you want to donate your time and money to print copious reminder notes, coordinate multiple parties throughout the year, plan field trips or other outings,  organize fundraisers, dream up ways for kids to earn badges and awards, decorate teacher's rooms, put together charity drives, and run yourself ragged trying to look like (or be) Super-PTA-Mom or Super-Den-Mother, then knock yourself out.  Because you're sure not doing it for the kids, no matter what you say.  You're doing it to prove to yourself that you're not nearly as worthless as you feel sitting at home all day with no job and no talents or interests of your own to pursue.  The kids don't care about 3/4 of the crap you insist on perpetuating.  They want a party at Christmas and maybe a school carnival once a year.  Scouts is a little more involved, but a couple of camp-outs and an hour-long meeting once a week to earn a badge is sufficient.  The rest is gravy.

From this day forward, I am not taking on any other volunteer chairperson, officer, or coordinator responsibilities for the foreseeable future.  It has gotten to the point where I have become angry and bitter about it, and that is my signal to stop.  I will not make my kids give up their activities, but I am going to leave it up to others to do the jobs they signed themselves up for.  I will not volunteer unless I feel there is a direct benefit to myself or my own kids.  If this makes me a Grinch, so be it.  My family and myself come first.

A History Lesson: St Luke's Church

St. Luke's Church is a National Shrine or National Historical Landmark, depending on what source you're reading from. It's not much to look at, just an old brick church with a graveyard around it, nothing terribly exciting unless, like me, you've got a significant ancestral link to it.

 My ancestors went to and lived near this church when they first came to American back in the 1600's, so I really wanted to see it. History lesson: It's the oldest standing church in America, having been established around 1632 or so. (It most likely predates that by about 10 years or so, but the original vestry books were buried in a horsehair trunk, and therefore rotted away, for years, so a conclusive date can't be established.) My ancestors were there when the church began, so of course their records there are lost in the original vestry books, but we know they were members there, and may have been involved in its administration as well. They are not buried in the surrounding graveyard, which didn't come into use til about 20 years later. They were most likely buried on their own land (the tradition at that time), which means their graves are probably lost to time and nature's encroachment. At any rate, I didn't have time on this trip to figure out precisely where their land was located, or who owns it now, or ask if there are any known graves on it. We did, however, take a tour of the church, learned about it's history and significance, and meandered around the graveyard.  There is an old gravel path along the edge of the cemetery that was part of an Indian trail route, which pre-dates the church by who knows how many years.  Despite the fact that the Indian Massacre of 1622 (a massacre by Indians, not of them) occured all around it, the church as an institution survived.  It would most likely have been a simple wooden structure at that time, however; the brick building that stands today was built sometime in the 1630's.

The inside of the church as it would have appeared in the 17th century, with the exception of the pews.  At that time, it is likely that all the pews would have had high backs, not the low ones pictures here.  Families sat together and might have had their own pew which they constructed themselves, so the pews may not have been uniform in size and structure.  The stained glass windows up front came from Germany and were originally inscribed with German words; those words were taken out and replaced with the names of men prominent to the early English settlers when the windows were installed here.  The stained glass windows on the side walls denote families of the area.  Mine is not depicted, probably because they had moved on by the point that the side windows were constructed; the original windows were plain clear diamond-shaped pieces of glass set in lead cams.

The pulpit has three tiers; in this picture you can see that the bottom one was a short step above the floor, the middle one another step above that, with a Bible on a stand, and the top had its own short staircase, which is where the preacher would stand (or the magistrate, when court was in session.) The octagonal structure above the top tier was an actual sounding board, used to reflect the speaker's voice out over the pews instead of ascending directly into the ceiling.

Another history lesson: there would have been several hourglasses set up on the pulpit, much like preachers today set their watch on it to keep track of time. The reason was completely different, however: they were there not to make sure the preacher stayed within the allotted time for the message, but to make sure he preached long enough. How long was long enough? Three to four hours. And that was just the sermon. The entire service usually lasted 6-8 hours; in other words, you spent an entire work day sitting in a hard wooden (and sometimes very hot or cold) pew with your immediate family, listening to someone proclaim hellfire and damnation. I can't even imagine sitting through that myself, let alone with several children. My kids can't sit still through an hour-long church service; six to eight hours and I would have killed all of us.

There was only one door to the church.  It looks a bit confusing from the outside.  As you can tell, it is a door within a door; the smaller inner door with the handle was used for everyday, common usage such as church, court, and ceremonies like weddings, etc.  The larger outer door can only be opened from the inside. Why?

Because it was only used in times of military occupation, in order to let in horses and large pieces of weaponry.  The church was twice militarily occupied, once during the American Revolution and again during the Civil War.  Once the outer door was closed, it afforded fairly good protection, since it could not be opened from the outside; the smaller inner door was easier to defend.  The walls of the church are three feet thick of Flemish-bonded brick, enabling it to serve as a fort when necessary.

There are four people buried within the church itself; two of these graves are marked by marble slabs in front of the chancel altar.  One of those two has been exhumed for examination and not yet returned.  The other is still there, under the marble slab inlaid on the floor.  Yet another person is buried in an unmarked grave beneath the baptismal font at the back of the church, just to the left of the door ins the picture above.  I don't know where the fourth person is buried; the docent didn't tell us and I forgot to ask.  It is, however, another unmarked grave within the church.

I didn't get a picture of it, but there is a creek that runs alongside the cemetery surrounding the church.  It is fairly small and shallow now due to damming further upstream, but in the 17th and 18th centuries it was a prime water route for transportation of goods inland.  So the church not only served as a place of worship and a fortress, but also a commercial transport post.

Monticello and Charlottesville

Soldier had to be in Charlottesville for a class this week (which is the whole reason we went on this trip anyway) so the boys and I stayed there for a few days before coming back home.  

Let me just say: I love Charlottesville.  

It's a college town, on the small side, but big enough to have a Chipotle and some decent shopping.   (And isn't that all that really matters?) Anyway, it's quaint and charming and easily walkable/bikeable, with historical sites on the side.  Most of the houses are on the older side; I'm sure there are newer ones somewhere, but we kept fairly close to the middle of town, which is largely old. There are three presidents' homes in the area: Madison, Jefferson, and Monroe.   We only had time to see Jefferson's Monticello.  You aren't allowed to take pictures inside the house itself, and the boys were rushing me through the outside parts, so I don't have any pictures to share.  

There are stables, the kitchen, wine and beer cellars, and various other "dependencies" as Jefferson called them, underneath the house.  It's not really a basement, as it's exposed to the outdoors (it's really on ground level and the house is built above it), but I imagine it would be plenty dark and shadowy at night.  I wish I had taken pictures of the kitchen, because at first glance I couldn't tell that it WAS one.  First of all, it wasn't in the actual house.  If you think about it, I guess this makes sense, because when you're cooking with a wood or coal stove, it gets pretty sooty and smoky, not the kind of thing you want to see and smell inside your house.  I was equally taken aback to see that the only things in the kitchen were shelves for the dishes and cookware, a hearth, and a long, multi-burner brick stove.   It was considered the most advanced and best-equipped kitchen of its time.  Again, upon further consideration, I have to admit that the absence of a sink, oven, and icebox, all of which I would have expected to see, was probably in line with the technology of the period.  Sinks require plumbing, which still hadn't been invented yet, along with ovens.  There was an icehouse, however, on the opposite side of the house, so I still don't know why there was no place to store cold foods in the kitchen if there was ample ice to do so.  

Monticello was a little underwhelming in some respects.  I though it would be a lot bigger than it was.  I suppose back in the 1800's it was considered enormous, but it really isn't that much bigger than the house we're currently in (which, while large, isn't a mansion by any means.) We didn't tour the gardens, which were no doubt impressive, but we didn't have time.  The house was interesting; I wish we could have poked through it more but of course you aren't allowed to touch anything and are required to stay with your group, which means no exploring narrow hallways or nooks and crannies.  I was impressed by all the scientific and mathematical things Jefferson worked on, and the way the family lived back then.  The tour guide was a very round man who liked to think that if he didn't know the answer to something, it wasn't important anyway, which was mildly annoying.  Soldier tried to take him up on the contentious point of the Jefferson/Hemings  issue, but the man simply stated what "their" position was, and wouldn't consider any others.  I personally don't contend the fact that Jefferson fathered her children (she had six, by the way), but I found it ridiculous  that historians have tried to imply that the two of them loved each other and had a consensual relationship.  Anyone with even a shred of knowledge about slave culture at the time, however, would understand the concept of forced consent.  Thomas Jefferson's wife died relatively young. He never remarried, instead bringing his daughter and her family to live with him at Monticello and help run the place.  Sally Hemings' was 3/4 white herself, very light-skinned, good-looking, and was also the half-sister of Jefferson's wife.  Yes, the half-sister of his wife.  Sally's mother was a concubine of Martha Jefferson's father, so it's not a stretch to assume that Sally herself was Jefferson's concubine.  (A concubine is someone who is involved in an ongoing, marraige-like relationship with a man whom she cannot marry, usually because of social status.)   So to recap: Sally was his wife's sister AND his personal property, to do whatever he pleased with.  I really do not think that Sally loved Jefferson or that he loved her, as historians have tried to imply.  When you are literally the property of a master and he controls every aspect of your life, including whether you live or die, you are probably going to go along with whatever he does to you, whether you like it or not.  I think it was more a situation of him being widowed and wanting sex, she was white enough and even his deceased wife's sister, (therefore he was attracted to her, presumably) and thus he chose her to literally be his sex slave.  I think it is also significant that he freed the children he had by her, but did not free her.  Supposedly this is because she first became pregnant while in Paris, and refused to accompany him back to America unless he freed her children.  That is possible, but I think it is more likely that he freed their children because they were HIS, and they were 7/8 white, which at that time meant they were entitled to live as free persons if their masters acquiesed.  I do not think that, as a slave, even a pretty, white-looking one, she would have been in a position to issue an ultimatum like that to her master.  She undoubtedly not only knew he controlled her fate, but was also at least a little intimidated by him - he was, after all, wealthy and incredibly intelligent, not to mention persuasive. So if he freed her children, why not her? Because if she was free, she could leave, and presumably, wouldn't be so readily available for sex at his whim.  Makes perfect sense to me.  But historians like to gloss over the particulars and just say they had a "relationship."  Well, sure.  But it was a slave/master relationship, not necessarily a love affair. 

Since I have no pictures of either Charlottesville or Monticello, here is one I took of the Virginia countryside, right off the highway.   Much of rural Virginia looks like this.  

Sand + water = fun

I still don't understand how I came to grow up in land-locked Oklahoma.  I am indisputably a water baby.  I love the water.  I grew up going to pools and lakes, but the ocean is just so powerful that I am still entranced by it every time I see it.  I even went to sailing camp for three years in a row as a kid, with my best friend.  I remember going to Hawaii with my parents when I was 7 and being amazed at the clarity of the water.  It was like liquid glass, sparkling and completely clear.  That was my first brush with the ocean and I've been drawn to it ever since. 

The beach was fun.  We went to Virginia Beach, which is soft and sandy, like beaches should be.  It was quite uncrowded, being fall and late afternoon, so we had a great spot.  The oldest two had never been, and the baby didn't remember it from a couple of years ago, so it was like a whole new experience for them all.  We did all the "beach" things: play in the ocean, dig in the sand, find shells.  Horseback riders trotted past occasionally, and seagulls darted in and out. We got there kind of late so we only stayed for a couple of hours, but really, that was enough. 

 Just as we were talking about getting ready to leave, Soldier spotted a dolphin not too far from us.  So we stayed and watched awhile longer and it obligingly jumped up several more times, along with a friend.  I tried to get pictures of them but my little camera has no telephoto lens and thus cannot focus 500 feet out over the ocean. We left at sunset and drove through a tunnel that went through the ocean, which would have been a smidge unnerving for anyone afraid of the water.  But we thought it was nifty.

My middle son decided it was necessary to chase a seagull.  At some point, I'm sure, the next time he goes to the beach, he will get pooped on.  

Because all I have is a point-and-shoot camera, I could just barely capture this incredibly cool sailing ship at sunset.  I desperately wish I had a telephoto lens because this would have been going up in a frame if I'd been able to get a closer shot.  

I'm back

Busch Gardens - check. Monticello - check. St Luke's Church - check. The ocean - check.

 *10 bonus points if you know what state I visited*

 I had less than 24 hours to plan for, pack for, and prepare for said trip. But no way was I going to turn it down when it was offered to me at the last minute. I've wanted to go out there for awhile.

I'm going to break this up into several posts over the next few days because I have pictures to share and it makes each post that much longer.  I promise, I'm not going to share all of them.  Don't run screaming just yet.

So I'll start with Busch Gardens.

 Busch Gardens was purely awesome. They had it all done up for Halloween, complete with costumed characters (think Freddy Krueger, not Mickey Mouse) walking around scaring people. Throughout the park, speakers played eerie Halloween music, and everything was decorated with dark roses  (some of which had eyeballs) and creepy ivy, cobwebs, mummies that truly looked real, spiders, skeletons, ghosts, gory limbs, 3-D monsters, etc.

 We could not have picked at better time to visit than we did. The boys were freaked out from time to time, but I have to say, the overall experience was fantastic. The only ride we really had to wait in line for (for over an hour and a half - argh) was The Curse of DarKastle, which is a Haunted Mansion - type ride, except in 4-D movie format.

 The two older boys hid their eyes the entire time, and we didn't even attempt to take the baby on it (we did child-swap at the loading point) but Soldier and I liked it. Was it worth the hour and a half wait? Well, if, like us, you've never seen it before, then probably. But I wouldn't wait that long to see it again. Because if you know what's coming, it kind of takes away the suspense. It's still a good ride, though; I would probably wait 30 minutes next time, but no more than that.

Brr.

Man. It was summer when I left. I was gone for five days and came back to winter. For the record, I am not a fan of winter. I'm working on a post about our trip; it'll be up shortly.

Addiction

Has anyone else found Pinterest to be as addictive as crack? Because I sure have.

Truth:

Sometimes life just sucks. You can philosophize about it all you want, drag out every theory in the book about why life is fair or not fair or why it should or should not be fair or unfair or whether fairness is even logical or illogical or relative to life in general at all, but the bottom line is, sometimes life just sucks and contemplating why just makes it suck even worse. There's no need to go into particulars about who, what, when, where, or how; it's just been one of those days for too many days in a row and I've lost my patience. Back to regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. Or the next day. Or whenever I get out of this mood.

En Francais

This has got to be one of the most intriguing things I've ever seen. It's a little too modern in its decor for me, but the whole conceptualization and realization of it is just amazing. I think it would be perfect for a college student, or more specifically, a succession of college students studying abroad for a semester or two. It's cheap, in the middle of the city, but still functional and aesthetically pleasing, and has light and space. I am inspired.

As a side note, I was pleasantly surprised to find I could understand about 70% of the French, which I haven't spoken for 12 years now. There's on-screen translation for those who aren't francophiles, so don't worry.