Grounded, with meatballs

Lovely dinner tonight (spinach spaghetti, meatballs and sauce, garlic bread, salad) with the boy-child and babycakes.

The boy-child was a major kitchen slave tonight. He cooked almost everything. I just supervised.

Maybe we should take his car away and ground him more often. Then he has no choice but to spend quality time with us.

Disappointment

It's been a week, both professionally and personally. But I don't blog about work, so this will be a post about personal stuff. As usual.

- I have been sleeping. But the dreams are vivid and catastophic. Planes crashing into bridges. Strange people asking favors. These are dreams that mean something, I'm sure. I just don't know what.

- I have not been sleeping. My quiet time is filled with doubts and apprehensions. For most of my life I've paid close attention to the messages that aren't clearly stated. These are among those. I have fear.

- Images are everywhere. They are visions. They are colors. They are things I have not yet encountered. I pay attention. I write them down. I tell others, when they will listen. I tell those who can understand. The rest ... well, I'm not sure about the rest.

- Emotions are very close to the surface right now. I search for the stories to tell. Those stories have always been helpful to me. But, today, not so much. I'm not sure where the words are.

- I need to remember to say thank you to the people who are around me. I frequently forget to do that. I'm trying. Thanks.

My ears are too close to my brain

You know how people say drivers shouldn't talk on cell phones because they become too distracted? This is so true for me.

But why is that? I can talk to passengers in my car without getting too distracted. I can listen to the radio and I don't get too distracted.

So why is it that I can't talk and/or listen on a cell phone without completely forgetting that I'm driving a vehicle?

While driving home today I realized this (before I wreaked any havoc) and quickly put the phone away.

I'm voting for Hillary

In my neighborhood the Obama signs are sprouting faster than the dandelions. And I keep getting invited to more and more Obama campaign events.

But I'm for Hillary Clinton.

It's not that I don't like Barack Obama. He's an appealing choice. He'd be easy to support. And if he becomes the nominee I will work hard to see that he gets elected.

But I'm for Hillary.

Barack Obama is like the new kid who moved into town during his sophomore year. He's likable and smart and is elected class president even though he's only been at that school for two months. By his senior year he is Student Council President and King of the Prom. Did he work hard for those things or did he just get picked because he's a boy and we were fascinated by his biracial background?

Hillary Clinton is like my best friend's older sister. The one who explained the facts of life to us and who invited us to her Women's Consciousness Raising Group, even though we were only 12. She joined the Chess Club even though she was the only girl in it. She ran for class president too, but she only got enough votes to be secretary. But she kept working at it.

Hillary reminds me of that girl who finally made it to vice-president of the Student Council and the president was a boy who played football. There were no sports for girls back then -- unless you counted cheerleading or being a majorette for the marching band. But Hillary has thick ankles and doesn't care about those things anyway.

I'm for Hillary.

I think it's true that women have to work twice as hard as men to get to the same level of respect. We live in a sexist world. And I'm sure Barack was a very nice boy in high school. I'll bet he didn't have to work as hard as she did.