Dudes, I am STILL on #$%&*% jury duty. Today was DAY 10, and we have to go back tomorrow.
Ask me what I do for a living, go 'head, ask me. Jane, what do YOU do for a living?
I'm a #$%^@^ juror.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Jane Veers Republican for a Minute
"A bunch of girls think that you don't need no man to raise no child... shut the fuck up with the bullshit! Yeah, you can do it without a man, but it don't mean it's to be done! Shit! You can drive a car with your feet if you want to; it don't mean its a good fucking idea!" -- Chris Rock, Bigger and Blacker, 1999
Call me a closet republican, but as far as I can see, everything, EVERYTHING about this story is just plain WRONG.
From the oh-so-jolly headline, to the happy family grins on these womens' faces, WRONG WRONG WRONG.
Yeah, I'm judging these people. So sue me.
Even more disgusting, the Daily News has chosen to glorify and normalize this, rather than examining it from a serious point of view. And we wonder why the cycle of poverty and teen pregnancy and crime in the inner city remains unbroken.
"If a kid calls his grandma 'mama' and his mama 'Pam,' he's going to jail." -- Chris Rock again
Call me a closet republican, but as far as I can see, everything, EVERYTHING about this story is just plain WRONG.
From the oh-so-jolly headline, to the happy family grins on these womens' faces, WRONG WRONG WRONG.
Yeah, I'm judging these people. So sue me.
Even more disgusting, the Daily News has chosen to glorify and normalize this, rather than examining it from a serious point of view. And we wonder why the cycle of poverty and teen pregnancy and crime in the inner city remains unbroken.
"If a kid calls his grandma 'mama' and his mama 'Pam,' he's going to jail." -- Chris Rock again
He's a what?
I knew it was only a matter of time before the ghost of Nazi abettor Prescott Bush raised its ugly head. I didn't expect it to come up in Rush and Malloy, the New York Daily News' gossip column.
Of course the family claims it's the "age difference." I don't care what the age difference is, wouldn't most parents would be over the moon if their daughter was dating the the heir apparent to a multibillion (yes, that's BILLION, with a "b") fortune?
Oooh, I just hope the press can get a good quote from Barbara "these Katrina victims are doing better here at the Astrodome than they were before the storm" Bush, Sr. Cause if there's one thing the Bushes can't seem to avoid, it's gnawing on a little shoe leather now and then.
Of course the family claims it's the "age difference." I don't care what the age difference is, wouldn't most parents would be over the moon if their daughter was dating the the heir apparent to a multibillion (yes, that's BILLION, with a "b") fortune?
Oooh, I just hope the press can get a good quote from Barbara "these Katrina victims are doing better here at the Astrodome than they were before the storm" Bush, Sr. Cause if there's one thing the Bushes can't seem to avoid, it's gnawing on a little shoe leather now and then.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Still Out
I'm still on jury duty, by the way. We're up to Day 6. It's not actually that bad. More on it after we finish.
Still can't say anything about the case, but let me say, after today I did have to come home and watch this.
Watch it and tell me you don't laugh until you cry.
Also, I seem to have defeated the pigeons, but now I'm in a war with the squirrels. No one told me they were SMART.
Still can't say anything about the case, but let me say, after today I did have to come home and watch this.
Watch it and tell me you don't laugh until you cry.
Also, I seem to have defeated the pigeons, but now I'm in a war with the squirrels. No one told me they were SMART.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
New Jersey Works on Low Self-Esteem
Today was the opening of the New Jersey Hall of Fame. From its website:
"The inaugural class of the New Jersey Hall of Fame inductees includes Buzz Aldrin, Clara Barton, Yogi Berra, Bill Bradley, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, Malcolm Forbes, Robert Wood Johnson II, Vince Lombardi, Toni Morrison, Norman Schwarzkopf, Frank Sinatra, Bruce Springsteen, Meryl Streep and Harriet Tubman. We anticipate that most, if not all, of our inductees and/or their families will be on hand for this historic event."
I wish I could have been there, just to see how Albert Einstein, Clara Barton, Vince Lombardi and Harriet Tubman have been holding up after all these years.
And where the f*** was FRANKIE VALLI? I mean, come ON.
"The inaugural class of the New Jersey Hall of Fame inductees includes Buzz Aldrin, Clara Barton, Yogi Berra, Bill Bradley, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein, Malcolm Forbes, Robert Wood Johnson II, Vince Lombardi, Toni Morrison, Norman Schwarzkopf, Frank Sinatra, Bruce Springsteen, Meryl Streep and Harriet Tubman. We anticipate that most, if not all, of our inductees and/or their families will be on hand for this historic event."
I wish I could have been there, just to see how Albert Einstein, Clara Barton, Vince Lombardi and Harriet Tubman have been holding up after all these years.
And where the f*** was FRANKIE VALLI? I mean, come ON.
The March of the Penguins?
I'm completely metrocentric about New York city, but folks, when it comes down to sports, I'm a Pittsburgh girl, through and through. (Though I do admit being mystified at how the Mets could lose 13-1 to the lowly Pirates).
So I stayed at home today, forgoing the sunshine, to watch the Penguins-Rangers playoff game. Call me a dork. So worth it.
Right now, Pittsburgh is thanking these two guys:
Yay, Sidney! Yah, Mario!
Now, Pens, time to march on to Philadelphia. Actually, if you could, please just march ON Philadelphia.
So I stayed at home today, forgoing the sunshine, to watch the Penguins-Rangers playoff game. Call me a dork. So worth it.
Right now, Pittsburgh is thanking these two guys:
Yay, Sidney! Yah, Mario!
Now, Pens, time to march on to Philadelphia. Actually, if you could, please just march ON Philadelphia.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Mau Mau-ing the Songbirds
Much like this writer, I want to be able to pick and choose which creatures visit the makeshift feeders I've placed on my fire escape.
At first, I was in the habit of putting out stale loaf ends instead of simply throwing them away, and I noticed that I had started to gather a small following of neighborhood birds. Encouraged, I began buying seed and filling bowls for my morning visitors. Pretty soon, I had a veritable Hicksian Peaceable Kingdom happening every morning. An avian be-in as it were.
I became interested in what I started thinking of as "my" birds, looking them up on Google to try to identify them. Mourning doves I was familiar with, and I welcomed their haunting "coo...coo...coo." Among the various plain brown sparrow-type birds, I noticed a couple of red-headed house finches, and was thrilled to spot another familiar flash of red, a male cardinal, who was soon joined by his mate (dun colored and not in the least flashy).
One morning, I looked out the window and surprised a squirrel foraging among the seeds for the choicest black sunflower seeds. I added whole peanuts to the bowls. Now, as soon as I open my screen in the morning, I can watch the squirrel scamper across fences and wires from two yards away. He used to wait politely at the bottom of the stairs on the fire escape for me to retreat back inside and close the screen, but I think we have a relationship now, because he runs to the top of the fire escape, turns the corner and waits a couple feet away until I've put out the nuts. Of course I know I'm anthropomorphizing, but I'm pretty sure the look in his eyes when I'm a little late is nothing short of insolence. He's since been joined by another squirrel, who joins him from the roof -- I can turn my head when I open the screen, and see him peering over the edge of the roof, waiting. He climbs down the ladder head first.
On my side of the window, when the birds are gathered, Mambo or Madison will hurry in a low crouch across the kitchen floor and jump onto the table by the window. They will sit there, just watching the birds. Mambo makes that "eck-eck-eck" noise that cats make, his tail making a slow, sweeping motion across the table. I think it's like television for him.
Now, if this all sounds bucolic, it was.
One day, I heard a ruckus outside the window, and when I went to investigate, I found a neighborhood pigeon strutting around the bowls. None of the other birds could be found. The next day, it seemed as if every pigeon in the neighborhood had discovered my open buffet, and now they are waiting there every morning, on the telephone pole and electrical lines behind the house, and before the other, nicer birds get a chance to have their morning feed, they swarm onto the fire escape. They're like the fricking Hells Angels. They fly in, chase all the other birds away, and basically ruin it for everyone.
It's just another reason to hate the damn pigeons.
At first, I was in the habit of putting out stale loaf ends instead of simply throwing them away, and I noticed that I had started to gather a small following of neighborhood birds. Encouraged, I began buying seed and filling bowls for my morning visitors. Pretty soon, I had a veritable Hicksian Peaceable Kingdom happening every morning. An avian be-in as it were.
I became interested in what I started thinking of as "my" birds, looking them up on Google to try to identify them. Mourning doves I was familiar with, and I welcomed their haunting "coo...coo...coo." Among the various plain brown sparrow-type birds, I noticed a couple of red-headed house finches, and was thrilled to spot another familiar flash of red, a male cardinal, who was soon joined by his mate (dun colored and not in the least flashy).
One morning, I looked out the window and surprised a squirrel foraging among the seeds for the choicest black sunflower seeds. I added whole peanuts to the bowls. Now, as soon as I open my screen in the morning, I can watch the squirrel scamper across fences and wires from two yards away. He used to wait politely at the bottom of the stairs on the fire escape for me to retreat back inside and close the screen, but I think we have a relationship now, because he runs to the top of the fire escape, turns the corner and waits a couple feet away until I've put out the nuts. Of course I know I'm anthropomorphizing, but I'm pretty sure the look in his eyes when I'm a little late is nothing short of insolence. He's since been joined by another squirrel, who joins him from the roof -- I can turn my head when I open the screen, and see him peering over the edge of the roof, waiting. He climbs down the ladder head first.
On my side of the window, when the birds are gathered, Mambo or Madison will hurry in a low crouch across the kitchen floor and jump onto the table by the window. They will sit there, just watching the birds. Mambo makes that "eck-eck-eck" noise that cats make, his tail making a slow, sweeping motion across the table. I think it's like television for him.
Now, if this all sounds bucolic, it was.
One day, I heard a ruckus outside the window, and when I went to investigate, I found a neighborhood pigeon strutting around the bowls. None of the other birds could be found. The next day, it seemed as if every pigeon in the neighborhood had discovered my open buffet, and now they are waiting there every morning, on the telephone pole and electrical lines behind the house, and before the other, nicer birds get a chance to have their morning feed, they swarm onto the fire escape. They're like the fricking Hells Angels. They fly in, chase all the other birds away, and basically ruin it for everyone.
It's just another reason to hate the damn pigeons.