Randomness

Since it is no longer Read An E-Book Week (as if it ever really was; I still think they made that shit up), I figured I should post something else. Only I don't really have much to talk about today. Instead, I leave you with random pictures and images I have on my computer. Honestly, I'm not even sure why I have some of these, but I do. Might as well share them.

Also, for the last of the Mardi Gras 2012 stories and pictures, you can go here, and here, and here.


Those are (more random than usual) Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

An image sent to me years ago

Addictive little buggers

From Gamina. Brilliant!

A cat saying hi in Mexico

The fountain here in NOLA

Shameless Plug

It's Read An E-Book Week. I had no idea the thing existed, and, honestly, suspect it may have been made up. Don't really care. Why? Because my latest novel is available for 50% off through the 10th of the month. Go ahead...You know you wanna...

My Latest Novel

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Mini Blog: I'll Take It

* I started this morning under an open window, next to fresh flowers, doing yoga. Have moved on to toast and coffee ~ hot, fresh, strong with cream. It ain't a bad way to start the day.

* I just saw that my alma mater, Northeastern University, is denying Chik-fil-A a place in their student center. Well done, Huskies!

* I was able to come up with a solution for a problem Lithus was having waaaay too early this morning. Because I know so little about his work, there is usually not a lot I can offer except to listen. This morning, I was able to solve the problem, and that makes me feel good.

Those are feeling really blessed Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

It Happened

I was at the florist today, talking with the woman behind the counter when I realized...

My southern accent was back.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #5

Say it with me, people: Are You Fucking Kidding ME?????

Now, I am avoiding blogging about politics, as much as I can. The online break I took a couple months ago really woke me up about how much happier I am if I am reading and staying aware, but not dwelling. Not that there hasn't been fodder... Digressing, Pobble... Anyway, I haven't been writing about politics and have been happier for it.

However. This guy...part of me doesn't want to give him the attention of a post. At the same time, sometimes I have to rail just a little bit. Now is one of those times. From here on out, whenever anyone asks me why exactly I think this country is going backwards instead of moving forward (and yes, I have gotten that question more than once), this will be the example to which I point. Thank you, G. W. Epperly, for proving my point so eloquently.

In an official complaint, filed with the courts of Alaska (ah, that lovely state ~ all the social awareness and inclusiveness of the South, without the warm temperatures), the individual named above states that the President isn't actually allowed to be President because, as a black man, he cannot actually be a citizen of the United States. I wish I was kidding.

As stated above, for an Individual to be a candidate for the office of president of the United States, the candidate must meet the qualifications set forth in the United States Constitution and one of those qualifications is that the Candidate shall be a "natural born citizen" of the United States. As Barack Hussein Obama II is of the "mulatto" race, his status of citizenship is founded upon the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution. Before the [purported] ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment, the race of "Negro" or "mulatto" had no standing to be citizens of the United States under the United States Constitution."
                                                 ~ GWE v. Barack Hussein Obama, Nomination Petition Objection
                                                               Year 2012 Primary and General Elections

Those are screaming liberal Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Dear Cam and Mrs. Pike...

Even public transportation gets into the act

This is an email I sent Lady Blackbelt. I realized not only would it have made a great blog post, but I should have added a couple other friends' addresses...

We have just come out of our first Mardi Gras and holy shit, it was amazing. The lights and colors and pervasive music, all of it, was indescribable. The city was alive and big and pulsing. We got here right in the middle of Carnival, so literally didn't have a quiet night until Wednesday, when it was all over.

At one point actually on Mardi Gras night, we decided to go down Bourbon Street, just to say we had. I have never been in a crowd so thick I could.not.move. until then. And I wasn't the least bit afraid ~ although I did stick my hand in my pocket with the house keys. My ass got squeezed once. I turned around, looked at the three guys who were close to have done it and said "REALLY?!!!?" Two of them had no idea what I was talking about. The third was busted. I just shook my head and said "happy Mardi Gras" and kept on. That was the only incident.

At the club earlier, we had a couple try to pick us up. Me mostly, though. She was dressed like a pig and wanted people to fondle her nipples. Need I say the pick up didn't work?

The October weekend in Salem and the Fourth of July on the Cape... This was right there up with those. One of these days, I'd love to share it with you. Honestly, I don't know if I would've enjoyed it nearly as much if we'd been here on vacation. Part of what made it so good was the ability to remove myself from the touristy aspects. However, I do understand why people do this as their vacation.

Just...wow.
Miss you. Love you. Think of you all the time.

 

Every bead from the last week. Yep, just one week.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and beads.

Being Neighborly

This afternoon, I walked out of the bedroom, through the livingroom and into the kitchen. Lithus wasn't here. Which made no sense, because he had just been here. And there's no more apartment than that, so it's not like he was in another room. Still, I finished what I was doing and sure enough, he wandered back into the bedroom. When I asked where he'd gone, his response was "Up to the fourth floor."

To the spider owners. To talk about the horrible thing and ask them to take it down.

Tonight, we went for our late night walk. It's gone. I'm sitting here in front of my bedroom window, with the blinds wide open, totally safe. Tomorrow, we're buying them a bottle of scotch to say thanks. And having our coffee on the balcony.

Those are grateful Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ on a lovely little balcony in the spider-free French Quarter.

Carnival and Mardi Gras

Look for pictures, reports, and updates over at Stilettos In The Outback. Just 'cause it's fun!

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Who Would DO That?????

We live in a truly wonderful alley in a truly wonderful part of New Orleans, smack in the middle of the French Quarter. It was six months between times home, so it is particularly nice to be back. Sleep in our own bed, on our own sheets. Use our own towels. Lithus would add cook in his own kitchen, but I am all about the linens.

Our very first night home, we stepped out onto our beautiful little balcony and sighed. Looked left. Lovely neighborhood. Looked right. Giant Enormous the size of Lithus with his arms spread and Much Bigger Bodied "decorative" spider. On the wall of our neighbors' building, "climbing" down...and sideways. Toward my beautiful little balcony.

Who The Fuck Would Do That?????

And no, there isn't a picture. Because while people who hate spiders can post pictures of HUGE GINORMOUS spiders and talk about how scary that is and isn't that a nightmare, people who are arachnaphobic are wracked with sobs and have a hard time breathing at the thought of writing this paragraph, let alone taking a fucking picture of the damn thing. So you'll just have to trust me. It's huge. And scary. And huge.

So, there we are on our first night home and I start to hyperventilate. I looked at Lithus and managed to say "I have to go in." He followed me and asked if I was okay. Nope. I wasn't. There was sobbing. And profanity. We are hoping it's a (warped) Mardi Gras and will come down after the 21st. Because I'd really like to use my lovely little balcony.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Happy Valentine's Day!

From 1066 to Now and...Beyond

If I say the name Cutty Sark, odds are good you will think of the scotch. That's more than fair. Most of us know Cutty Sark to be this:

In reality, though, the Cutty Sark was this:

And her owner was Jock "White Hat" Willis. Part businessman, part pirate, all class act.

How can a man with that hat and that beard *not* be a class act?

He had a wife and kids. And they had a wives and husbands and kids. Right on down the line...

A man who married a woman with "dangerous eyes"

A coin toss. An adventure. Children to carry on the name. A long, full life.

Totally worthy of an ancestor named for his fashion sense

Angels and ministers of grace defend thee, Mike Willis.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

RIP Don Cornelius

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUULLLLLLLLLLLLL TRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAINNNNN!

*sigh*

Rest in peace, sir. And many thanks.

Those are Pobble Thoughts.

Thoughts on Try

At my first job out of college, we had a wonderful client who used to tell her children not to use the word try. "Don't talk to me about trying," she'd say. "Talk to me about doing." Now, you and I both know this is a take on Yoda's "Do or do not. There is no try" but her kids were young enough to think this was all mom's wisdom.

To a great extent, I believe in this, if it comes from my former client or if it comes from Yoda. But to a great extent, I recognize that dealing in absolutes or extremes stifles us. If we don't 100% know we are going to suceed, we don't even try.

Because what happens when you have something that other people have the final say over? Something that you cannot, eventually, control. As I've gotten older, I've come to understand that sometimes the fact that you tried at all is the success. Sometimes, that's where the real courage is. Whatever the outcome, the fact that you tried, that you had the courage to even put yourself out there, is something no one can take away from you. Sometimes, "try" is "do" after all.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Well, Hi Internet!

I remember you!

Oh, so much time has passed. For a pictoral review of the last several months, go here: Pobble Travels.

Back? Hi. Pobble Thoughts isn't the only place I've been neglecting. I've been more or less offline everywhere. My professional website hasn't been updated in a year. My professional facebook (because I still don't have a personal one) is gathering dust. I haven't done an interview; I haven't done a critique. The only writing I've done is my monthly article out of Washington. Aside from that, I've checked email and...that's it. And it's been wonderful. Surprisingly so.

We've traveled. We've changed jobs. We've changed locations. The latest book made it to Barnes and Noble and iTunes. I didn't even know iTunes sold books! I've taken a break. I've ignored the news and politics. I've reconnected with my best friend (not that we ever disconnected, but still). I've seen our family loads and loads, in three different states and two different countries. I've been a good friend, a good partner, a good person. I've been breathing, and eating right and moving better and taking care of myself.

Having been reminded of how life can be, I'm hoping to keep it all in perspective. Politics are important. My family and friends are moreso. Maintaining a web presence for my work is important. Actually writing, doing my work, is moreso. I'm taking hot baths and lighting candles and snuggling with Lithus. Not giving those up, again. Can't believe I ever let them slip away. But what matters is that I got them back.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Guilty As Charged

A while ago, I did a post on the fact that Black women are beautiful, contrary to what the people at Psychology Today would have us believe. I meant well. However, I have recently been reminded that the discussion about Black women's beauty rarely, if ever, includes trans-women. Yep. I did it, too. So, here you go. The original post, as it should've been written, had I done it properly. In celebration of all Black women...

Have you seen the article in Psychology Today spewing the "scientific" and "objective" news that Black women are the least attractive people on the planet? Nope, not kidding. (Click on it; it gets bigger and readable)

Now, the first time I heard about this, I thought it was a joke. An unfunny joke but a joke nonetheless. Not because I don't think racism like this exists but because it was printed in Psychology Today, a reasonably respected magazine. Then I thought the people who had first told me about it simply misunderstood. Perhaps it was a study on the cultural attitudes that make white, mainstream America see Black women as less attractive. Still no.

This article "uses science" to actually "prove" Black women are the least attractive women around.

So...where's the outrage? Where's the disgust? Especially among the white women and feminists who would be screaming if such a thing were said about white women. When I first heard about it, it was easy to think it was a joke because it was being treated as one by the white women ~ white feminists ~ in the conversation. Another time I wish I was joking, but I'm not. But these are the same ilk of women who created the PUMA attitude when Barack Obama won the nomination for President.

You know that "sisterhood" women like to claim they have with each other? Where the hell is it when this kind of racist misogyny gets legitimized in such a public forum?

Because, yeah, these are some ugly people...

 

Those are angry, motivated, inspired Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Thank You...

Capt. Wilbur M. Mix
MSgt David Brunstad
Sgt Brian Jolley

And everyone else who serves. We are honored to know you.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ which you should buy for a vet!

3...2...1...LAUNCH!

It's live, people.

For now, you can only get it here. In a few weeks, though, it will be available at amazon and bn.com and a bunch of other places. You know I'll let you know. Feel free to boost, to pimp, to promote, or talk up. Whatever you call it, feel free to do it. Because it's a really good book and people should read it.

Of course, if they haven't read the first two, they should do that, too... :)

Those are a little overwhelmed Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee (but $3.99 will get you a book!).

Samhain 2011

First, going into the Winter holiday season, may I have a quick word? Thanks. There's something I need to get off my chest about Paganism: it is an actual and for real religion. It is not "spiritual, but not religious." It is not enlightened agnosticism. It is not merely a rejection of Christianity. It is more than an acknowledgement of the interconnectedness of the world and all parts of it.

All of those things are wonderful, and I am not putting them down. They are not, however, Paganism ~ or Wicca, or Druidism, or Shamanism, or any of the other Pagan paths. Paganism has a creed and tenets and beliefs you must follow in order to be Pagan. An' ye harm none, do what ye will is pretty damn tough to actually live out. "Harm" is a lot more open ended than just "don't be an ass." "None" means, well, none. The people you like; the people you don't like; people you don't even know; yourself. None is everybody. And there's nothing about intention in there, either. Did you notice? "But I didn't mean to..." isn't an acceptable excuse. There's little vague or undefined here. And that just scratches the surface.

I get that calling oneself Pagan (or Wiccan or a Druid or, or, or...) is sexy and interesting and a little edgy. And if you know me at all you know I am keen on sexy and interesting and a little edgy. Just please...learn about this religion before you claim to follow it. Otherwise, find another way to be sexy and interesting and a little edgy. I'll totally support that.

Meanwhile...

Lithus likes sherry

I prefer white wine

All Hallow's Eve ~ Welcome to our home!

Blessed Be, my friends.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #4

Say it with me: Are you fucking kidding me????


First, I will give you this:


And then, because you know Dr. Pepper is gonna start yanking that shit, I'll give you this:


Do I have to spell out all the ways this is offensive? To women, and yes, let's be honest, to men. The Facebook page? What the fuck are you thinking, Snapple Ad People?????

Look, there are differences between genders. Denying that isn't helpful. But to handle those differences in such a vilifying way is reprehensible and, especially in today's already divisive atmosphere, indefensible.

I get they're trying to make a joke. I just don't find it funny.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

20,000 Hours

Somewhere along the line last month, quietly, unobtrusively, and without any fanfare, Lithus passed 20,000 hours total flight time. For those of us not actively involved in aviation, trust me, this is a rare feat at any point in a career. To do it with 15 years of flying time still ahead of him is unheard of crazy.  And this morning, my dear, sweet Lithus looks over at me and says, "Oh...by the way..."

Hamming it up for the camera

Yeah, my baby's a stud.

Those are proud Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Disappointment and Other Angsty-ness

Note ~ This is a poorly written journal entry, far more than it is a blog post. I need to be vague enough that writing well or eloquently is hampered, but, goddammit, it's my blog and I want to write about this, so I'm doing so. Even if it's vague and poorly written. That beats censored.  Which brings us to...

Disappointment is a hard issue for me. I try very hard not to be disappointed in people. It strikes me as a particularly judgemental, and inevitably hypocritical, emotion. Also, I have had people disappointed in me before and, while sometimes, yes, deservedly so, often...not so much. Generally, my response to people being disappointed in me has been and fuck you, too. I don't live my life for other people; I try to make the best choices I can in the moment; and am, more often than not, pretty consistent. In other words, if you end up disappointed in me, that probably says more about you than about me. Not always. I am far from perfect. But generally? Yeah, I'll give it "generally."

Which is why when I find myself disappointed in people, I struggle with it. Who the hell am I to expect them to live their lives, make their choices, choose their path, based on what I think they should be doing? Especially when the choices they are making are the choices I have every reason, based on past experience, to expect them to make. And yet...there are times when I still find myself disappointed. In this instance, I've had certain people say certain things, lead me to believe ~ in other words have reason to expect ~ certain things and then...*poof* Maybe that's it. In these instances, these people have lead me to believe something would be different, and then it hasn't been different. It's been the same old song.

Would it be easier if these people acknowledged that what I had been told to expect wasn't going to happen? Perhaps, but not necessarily. At least then I wouldn't struggle with trust on top of struggling with disappointment. Maybe I need to simply accept that, with these people, they want to be different, they want to make these changes, even to the point of telling me they will ~ but they won't. Would it be easier for me to just learn and accept that? Perhaps. But I'd still be struggling with disappointment so...*shrug* I don't know. I don't have all the answers.

I know I dislike myself when I am disappointed in someone. Yet, I also know I want to care enough and trust enough to have expectations of people, and when we have expectations, we can be disappointed. It's a Catch-22, I guess.

Those are angsty Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Signal Boost

A couple years ago, my friend, Lori, watched as her son deployed to Iraq.

At some point, he or his friends had Beanie Babies and ended up giving them to the kids surrounding the camp...or the convoy...or...something. I should know the details, but I don't. It didn't seem all that important at the time it was happening, honestly. Just a quick mention from Brian to his mom. His mom, being a superhero in disguise living here among us mere mortals, happened to put the word out that if anyone had any Beanies, they were wonderful ambassadors for the soldiers in Brian's unit and she'd send them over, for them to hand out. We did. She did. They did. Word got out...

This thing has exploded. Toys For Troops in now incorporated, for cripe's sake. Lori's mailing list has moved so far beyond Brian's unit. While, yes, they absolutely still send Beanies, now they also send care packages for the soldiers themselves, especially at the holidays (which, in case you hadn't noticed, we're approaching rapidly).

So, if you are looking for a creative and unusual way to support the troops this season, you are so in luck. It's time for the annual Toys For Troops Spaghetti Dinner Fund Raiser! The dinner is free. The raffle is the fundraising part.

The event itself takes place in Illinois. To my knowledge, none of my usual readers are anywhere close to Illinois (well, except for Lori, of course, but she already knows about this so...digressing...). Do Not Let This Deter You, People! Not all of the raffle items are local. Some of the ones I'm drooling over?

• a nook ereader. Seriously, folks. A freaking NOOK.
• $600 worth of Sephora cosmetics
• Cabot cheese gift pack

And these aren't the only non-Illinois-y winnings; just the ones I want the most. You don't have to be present to win, even. For all the details, and to enter the raffle online, go here: Toys for Troops Fundraiser Also, you can find information about donating raffle items (still not too late); getting a soldier onto the mailing list; "adopting" a soldier off of the mailing list; and donating items for the care packages.

Know something else ~ Lori doesn't make a cent off of this. Everything that is donated goes directly to the cause. Purchasing, packaging, and postage. That's it. Hell, she doesn't even use donations to buy the spaghetti fixins (full disclosure, this year the spaghetti was donated, but that hasn't always been the case ~ and she still didn't reimburse herself for the costs).

I just realized, I'm going on and on about this, but you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm proud of my friend and what she'd done and doing. I'm proud of her son. I'm proud she calls me her friend, too. So, yeah, going on and on a little. Click on that link. See what you can do. If you've ever wanted fifty cents to be valued as if it was fifty grand, this is the place to go.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. These are my friends.

That and a buck fifty will get you spaghetti, a big hug, and a raffle ticket...and of course, coffee.

Twitterish Tweety

My Boston apartment is for sale. My Worcester apartment is for rent. Both of these things are happening right now. Oh...such a masochist...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Lessons from the Weekend

* Just because you put vodka in your magarita mix doesn't mean anyone else in the world does. You were drinking tequila.
* It's very possible the woman you think doesn't like you because you slaughtered her language last time you met is actually just shy and afraid you don't like her because she slaughtered your language last time you met. Reach out again. There could be hugs.
* ZhuZhu pets are still cool, even though they've been out for a few years. Crayons are, and always will be, still cool.
* Certain levels of happiness cannot be faked. When you find those, hang on to them.
* A fabulous hat is never inappropriate.
* Grown up birthdays are great. Kids' birthdays are better.

* Leftover carne is delicious. Left over homemade salsa is also delicious. They have both had time to marinate. They are both spicier than they were when they were fresh. Next time, remember this before you take that first, big bite.
* Even Sandpoint, Idaho has standards.

At the Sandpoint mall.

In the window of the Paris Hair Designs and School of Poise

Those are wiser, lesson learned Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Little Happies

There is a lot happening in the world these days. In my personal world, the US, the entire global community. It has been very easy to lose sight of some of the little things that bring happiness. Things like...

1. The Sing-Off is online. For those of you who don't know, The Sing-Off is an a cappella musical competition. Some of the most amazing groups I have heard, singing modern, current music, with nothing to back them up but each other. And, since we have almost no television here in Coolin ~ no, not even the Original Three from the olden days ~ having it available online is a lovely, lovely treat.

2. Low clouds over the lake and mountains. Honestly, this is a mixed kinda thing. Low clouds also have the potential of grounding Lithus and, if Lithus isn't flying, we aren't making money. But oh my friends...low clouds over the lake and mountains are so beautiful.

3. New clothes. I've spent a lot of time in the bush, both in Alaska and now here in Idaho. Living in the Alaskan bush doesn't lend itself, particularly, to city clothes. What I remembered recently was that I bopped around helibases and air strips for years in my ordinary, every day, citified clothes before we moved to Alaska. I wore dress pants and leopard print pumps, skirts and bangles, capris and high heeled wedges and never thought twice. They were my clothes and I wore them. We don't live in the Alaskan bush any longer. I have new clothes. I have cool, beautiful, citified clothes. I have high heels to go with them. Accessories, I wear them. Lithus looked at me the other day, smiled, and said "I know you." Yeah. It's good to be back.

4. Muffins. Actually, that should be muffin, singular. Earlier this week, I mentioned to Lithus that I was craving muffins but that I really didn't want to make an entire batch of them because I knew one would do. But there isn't exactly a bakery on every corner up here. A couple days later, Lithus had had to drive into town. He brought me home a muffin.

5. We decorated for Autumn this year. We are in one place, long enough, with enough disposable income to decorate. I have a cluster of gourds on my table and another on a wall shelf. There are candles. And of course, the lake itself out our window. It's not much; it's enough.

Little reasons to be happy. I'll take 'em.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Banned Book Week

Banned Book Week runs from September 24, 2011 to October 1, 2011 (I know; don't blame me, I don't set the dates or name the thing!). According to the American Library Association, these are the most banned or challenged books of the last decade:

1. Harry Potter (series), by J.K. Rowling
2. Alice series, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
3. The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier
4. And Tango Makes Three, by Justin Richardson/Peter Parnell
5. Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
6. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
7. Scary Stories (series), by Alvin Schwartz
8. His Dark Materials (series), by Philip Pullman
9. ttyl; ttfn; l8r g8r (series), by Myracle, Lauren
10. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky
11. Fallen Angels, by Walter Dean Myers
12. It’s Perfectly Normal, by Robie Harris
13. Captain Underpants (series), by Dav Pilkey
14. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
15. The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison
16. Forever, by Judy Blume
17. The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
18. Go Ask Alice, by Anonymous
19. Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
20. King and King, by Linda de Haan
21. To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
22. Gossip Girl (series), by Cecily von Ziegesar
23. The Giver, by Lois Lowry
24. In the Night Kitchen, by Maurice Sendak
25. Killing Mr. Griffen, by Lois Duncan
26. Beloved, by Toni Morrison
27. My Brother Sam Is Dead, by James Lincoln Collier
28. Bridge To Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson
29. The Face on the Milk Carton, by Caroline B. Cooney
30. We All Fall Down, by Robert Cormier
31. What My Mother Doesn’t Know, by Sonya Sones
32. Bless Me, Ultima, by Rudolfo Anaya
33. Snow Falling on Cedars, by David Guterson
34. The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big, Round Things, by Carolyn Mackler
35. Angus, Thongs, and Full Frontal Snogging, by Louise Rennison
36. Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley
37. It’s So Amazing, by Robie Harris
38. Arming America, by Michael Bellasiles
39. Kaffir Boy, by Mark Mathabane
40. Life is Funny, by E.R. Frank
41. Whale Talk, by Chris Crutcher
42. The Fighting Ground, by Avi
43. Blubber, by Judy Blume
44. Athletic Shorts, by Chris Crutcher
45. Crazy Lady, by Jane Leslie Conly
46. Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
47. The Adventures of Super Diaper Baby, by George Beard
48. Rainbow Boys, by Alex Sanchez
49. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey
50. The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini
51. Daughters of Eve, by Lois Duncan
52. The Great Gilly Hopkins, by Katherine Paterson
53. You Hear Me?, by Betsy Franco
54. The Facts Speak for Themselves, by Brock Cole
55. Summer of My German Soldier, by Bette Green
56. When Dad Killed Mom, by Julius Lester
57. Blood and Chocolate, by Annette Curtis Klause
58. Fat Kid Rules the World, by K.L. Going
59. Olive’s Ocean, by Kevin Henkes
60. Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson
61. Draw Me A Star, by Eric Carle
62. The Stupids (series), by Harry Allard
63. The Terrorist, by Caroline B. Cooney
64. Mick Harte Was Here, by Barbara Park
65. The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien
66. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, by Mildred Taylor
67. A Time to Kill, by John Grisham
68. Always Running, by Luis Rodriguez
69. Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury
70. Harris and Me, by Gary Paulsen
71. Junie B. Jones (series), by Barbara Park
72. Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison
73. What’s Happening to My Body Book, by Lynda Madaras
74. The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold
75. Anastasia (series), by Lois Lowry
76. A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving
77. Crazy: A Novel, by Benjamin Lebert
78. The Joy of Gay Sex, by Dr. Charles Silverstein
79. The Upstairs Room, by Johanna Reiss
80. A Day No Pigs Would Die, by Robert Newton Peck
81. Black Boy, by Richard Wright
82. Deal With It!, by Esther Drill
83. Detour for Emmy, by Marilyn Reynolds
84. So Far From the Bamboo Grove, by Yoko Watkins
85. Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes, by Chris Crutcher
86. Cut, by Patricia McCormick
87. Tiger Eyes, by Judy Blume
88. The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood
89. Friday Night Lights, by H.G. Bissenger
90. A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeline L’Engle
91. Julie of the Wolves, by Jean Craighead George
92. The Boy Who Lost His Face, by Louis Sachar
93. Bumps in the Night, by Harry Allard
94. Goosebumps (series), by R.L. Stine
95. Shade’s Children, by Garth Nix
96. Grendel, by John Gardner
97. The House of the Spirits, by Isabel Allende
98. I Saw Esau, by Iona Opte
99. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume
100. America: A Novel, by E.R. Frank

Taking a trick from my friend, Denny's, hat, I've bolded the ones I've read. Which have you read? A list of the top 100 classic banned/challenged books of the last century can be found here. I've read a lot of these, as well, but not nearly enough. How about you?

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and a little taste of civil disobedience and dissent.

Birthday Thoughts

A couple days ago, I met a man who asked if I was 33, 34 years old. Since I am within days of my 42 birthday, I promptly fell in love with him.


Last winter, I officially asked Lithus for a new tattoo for my birthday. Given the fact that we are nowhere near a tattoo that doesn't involve homemade ink and a sewing needle, I think that will have to wait. Anyway...


Once I started looking at the Republican candidates for their party's presidential nominee, I changed my request to Canadian citizenship. Or at least the paperwork filled out that will take me one step closer, just in case.


Realistically, I've told him I'll be happy with a nicely scented salt scrub and new fuzzy pink slippers. Seriously, when can you ever go wrong getting me bath products and fuzzy pink slippers. Never, I say. Never!





Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee. Everything else here is gonna cost a little more.

It Is The BOSTON Pobble, After All

Seven ways to tell I'm getting homesick...

7. I watch reruns of Cheers, Boston Public, and Being Human (but no, not Ally McBeal; I have some standards, even when homesick).
6. My ringtone gets changed over to the Dropkick Murphys
5. These apples are okay, but not nearly as good as the ones from the North Shore
4. This southern girl starts saying "cah" and "quahta."
3. The air I'm breathing seems way too clean to be healthy.
2. It's Autumn in New England.

And the number one way to know I'm getting homesick?

1. Four grand seems a perfectly reasonable rent on a one bedroom apartment, given its proximity to Copley Square...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Nuances

or DADT Is Repealed, Hooray for LGB...Oh...

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, as truly thrilling as the repeal of DADT is ~ and it is ~ there are nuances that many people aren't catching. First, for all the Vermont marriages taking place between servicepeople and their civilian partners, the military still doesn't recognize them as anything other than "very good friends" or "long time companion" because the Defense Of Marriage Act is still in effect. So, yes, the lesbian or gay service member can finally, finally, serve openly and TTG for it. But they and their spouses cannot yet live on post, in family housing; the civilian spouse still doesn't count as a military dependent; still won't be brought to a wounded soldier's side in the worse case scenario. And, yes, I personally believe this is different from not being allowed in a hospital emergency room. That's bad enough. But to not be able to be at the side of your soldier? The man or woman who is risking their life for a country that just today deigned to think they were worthy of doing so? It's a different horror and it needs to be respected as such.

Also, if you pay really close attention, the politicians are speaking about gays and lesbians serving openly. This is not a short cut because LGBT is too long or too weighted or too whatever. This is intentional. This is because gays, lesbians, and bisexuals can now serve openly in the military but a transgendered soldier will still be ousted, should they be outted. And I have nothing more coherent to say about that.

Celebrate. Jump up and down. Sing. Pray. Get drunk and have hot monkey sex. Whatever it is that you do to celebrate when something really monumental happens, do it. Today is worth it. But know that the Transgender American Veterans' Association (TAVA) has requested all who are celebrating also take a moment of silence to acknowledge not everyone got their rights today. Know that DOMA limits just how sweeping this is. Know that tomorrow, there is work to still be done.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Dribs and Drabs

• Tomorrow marks the end of DADT! On the one hand, timely, past timely. On the other, so long as DOMA is still in effect, really only half the battle. This is one of the places where I think the debate in favor of same sex marriage not only should take place, but must take place.
• I've discovered a love for old school calisthenics. Push ups, jumping jacks, planks, squats, shadow boxing...I love 'em all. Who would've guessed?
• There is a new phone. Bless Lithus's heart, he so wants me to have a smart phone. Or at least a flip phone. Or a slidey phone. Or something. The thing is, though, I am hard of hearing. Pretty distinctly so. And the more a phone does besides just be a phone, the less phone-like qualities it has. So, yes, there is a new phone. It's another $15 Go Phone and I can hear quite well through it, thank you very much. Mind you, sending Nemeria a single line text this morning took five whole minutes because none of the extras are the same as I'm used to but hey ~ I can hear.
• Check this out: Middle Child Press. They are a new epub house created to get women of color published. While it is a travesty that we still need such a house, we do, so let's support it!
• I'm thinking about starting an ongoing segment over at Stilettos In The Outback entitled "Carnivale." Now, more than ever, Lithus and I have indeed run away with the carnival. There is a core group of people who work for this new company and we move from place to place. While it's not actually a caravan ~ or hasn't been yet ~ we all end up in the same place, share food or booze or look after the kids or each other. And maybe that's all that needs to be said about it; maybe it will become something. It's an amazing experience though, this carnivale I've joined, and worthy of noting.
• An introduction, of sorts...If you look over at my links, there on the left, you'll see a few new names: Authentic Life, where Bill writes about life and writing and Boston and family and yes, trying to be authentic in an often inauthentic world (and did I mention Boston?); and Reporting Live, where Paria writes about love and pain and success and failure and keeping on and reaching goals ~ all with a poignant sense of self. Also, J Byrd, if you're still reading, I can't comment on your blog and I want to! Any thoughts on how to finagle that?
• We bought a car. In Alaska, we were driving a cherry red firebird. It was completely and totally irresponsible and oh so fun. We knew, however, that we couldn't do that again. This time, we really needed a bush vehicle. We researched and set out looking for Durangos. We're now the proud owners of a 2002 Land Rover. At least it's not a sportscar, right?
• In spite of the carnival, I'm back to watching television and movies set in northeast cities just to go dreamy eyed over the exterior shots. Apparently, it's been a long time since I've been home.
• ETA: How Did I Not Know This???? Talbots has a petite plus size section. And their models are actually and for real plus sized. No shit. Because not all of us who are petite are size 2s. And some of us ~ I know, this is daring ~ still want quality clothing. Demanding, short, zaftig women that we are.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #3A

Because I missed post #2 by accident and laziness.

I want to clarify something. I am not anti-Republican. I am not anti-conservative. When speaking with Lithus, I frequently refer to "conservative but sane" meaning I am infinitely okay with disagreeing with someone's politics so long as they are not insane. Want an example?


This person is not crazy:


I may disagree with him on many instances (and I do), however, his facts actually are facts; he is educated in reality. If he ever gets into the White House, I won't feel as if I have to leave the country.


This person is crazy:


I have informed Lithus that I do not love him because of his Canadian citizenship however, should she get into the White House, his citizenship will definitely be an asset he brings to the table.

See? Not crazy; crazy. Disagreements, no problem; disagreements, and big problem. You and I can disagree. You can be conservative; I'm embracing my screaming liberalness. Just don't be crazy. Don't be uneducated. Think and learn and listen before you speak ~ or run for office ~ or vote.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

September 11th, Every Year

Every year on September 11th, I call the Grill Master. If you were to ask either of us, I'm not sure we could tell you why it is important for us to check in with each other this day; we only both know it is. In 2001, we weren't together; we didn't talk; we didn't catch up. The Divine M (his wife and my best friend, for those of you who are new-er here) and I spent many hours on the phone that day, but he and I didn't. And yet....

One year, on the anniversary, I was there, quite by accident. He and I spent the day quietly together. "In prayer and reflection" isn't a phrase that will ever be used for us, but it was as close to that as we will ever get. We didn't talk much but we didn't leave the room without the other often or for long, either. The shoulder clap and the eye contact-nod was common throughout the day. It was vintage Pobble-Grill Master and it felt right. It felt right enough that the next couple years, I was there on the anniversary intentionally. Somewhere during those years, it became important for us to check in when I couldn't be there.

This year was no different. It went like this:

Him: Hello, Boston.
Me: Hello, Grill Master. How the hell are you?
Him: As good as I can be. How you doing?
Me: 'Bout the same.
Him: Yeah. Where are you now? Idaho? Iowa?
Me: We're in Idaho. What the fuck am I doing in Idaho?
Him: Calling me, 'cause it's September 11th. That's what you're doing in Idaho.
Me: *sighs* Yeah. You know I love you, right?
Him: Ditto.
Me: I know.
Him: Yeah.
Me: Yeah.
Him (sadder): Yeah.
Me (sadder): Yeah.
Both: *sigh*
Me: You take care.
Him: Go, have as good a day as you can.
Me: You, too. And if I don't talk to you before, I'll talk to you in a year.
Him (laughing): Yeah!
Me: (laughing): Talk to you later.
Him: Later.

That was it. That was enough. We both said everything we needed to say and heard everything we didn't need to speak.

And that's why I love him and why I acknowledge this day with him, wherever I am.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

One of Those Moments

When Lithus is at work these days, he leaves his phone here at the hotel. He has absolutely no cell service where he is on the mountain and so the phone is just one more thing to keep track of while he's out. I spend the days ignoring it beeping and blooping and ringing. Today, however, I was deep in edits when it rang, scaring the crap out of me. Honestly, it was habit that got me up and looking at caller i.d. Where I saw Lithus's project manager was calling. The project manager who has access to Lithus. Or at least has access to Lithus's radio. Who has no reason to be calling Lithus's phone. No reason but one...


I'm quite proud to say I didn't panic.


And in fairness to Project Manager, he realized immediately what he did. It went like this:


Boston Pobble: Hello?
Project Manager: Oh...damn. I think I called the wrong Lithus. Is this Lithus the Pilot's phone?
BP: Yeah, it is PM.
PM: He's okay. I hit the wrong Lithus on my phone. He's fine.
BP: *nervous laughter* No worries. It happens.
PM: Looks like he's gonna be a out on the fire late tonight, too.
BP: Okay. Again, no worries.


Here's what I love, though ~ Project Manager has been around long enough that, as soon as he had confirmed his mistake, he knew what the first words out of his mouth had to be. And just like that, my heart's beating again.


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Screaming Liberal Post #3

2009 wasn't the greatest year for me, in case you weren't aware. Lithus and I spent a lot of time under a rock, just trying to get by. By 2010, I was paying attention again but honestly, didn't think to go backwards and catch up. I looked up at what was happening currently and kept going. All of which is to say, this has just now come to my attention.

The Daily Show
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

Now, I have done some research but haven't found anything more about this, which leads me to believe it just is what it is ~ and that none of these men lost their jobs over this issue. Which begs the question Dear God Why The Fuck NOT?????


If anyone knows of real, long lasting fall-out from this, please, let me know in the comments or via email. We've got another election coming up, people. Make sure you know who you're voting for.


Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.