taking the passive out of passive-aggressive

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

I just finished listening to our distinguished Lt. Governor, Mr. Michael Steele, aka Uncle Tom. His best quote of the night was "It no longer matters whether you can get a seat at the lunch counter... what matters is, can you own the lunch counter?"

No, actually, what matters is, can you afford lunch?

I don't know why I'm listening to the Republican National Convention except that I suspect my children's future is being slowly shut down by these people, and I want to know who they are and what they have to say for themselves. And even though the media has told me that the Republicans are going to highlight their most moderate speakers, all I hear is the erosion of my babies' rights one by one, slowly and surely. My daughters' right to marry whom they choose and have as many children as they can afford. Their right not to wear a burkha, for heaven's sake. This is surely the most radically conservative and rabidly religious group outside the Taliban, and I am sorely tired of hearing their potential victims (minorities and women) sing their praises.

I'm reading "Under The Banner of Heaven" right now, the Jon Krakauer book about fundamentalist Mormonism, and what's horrible is I don't see a lot of difference between the cultish, murderous polygamists he describes and our own government. (For this statement alone, I will probably be put on some Ashcroftian list.) I am truly frightened by the state of our country right now and I don't understand why more people aren't standing up and fighting. Is it that Orwellian tenet--that there are no better slaves than those who love their servitude?


Wednesday, August 18, 2004

I consider leaving my husband three times a year. I think this is a healthy thing, to wonder what might happen in my life without him--it makes my marriage feel volitional, as though it were a choice. I don't do it on a schedule or anything--he's just especially annoying three times a year, on average. And every time, so far, I have decided that it's worthwhile to keep on keepin' on.

My mom tells me that my dad was just as annoying, and I suspect that may be why she put him in that awful crypt after he died. I don't think I'll do anything like that--I might die first, anyway.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

My mom was never able to complete a sentence when I was growing up. She'd say "I've got to..." and then trail off with a sigh, or else "You know, Sheila..." and then just stop, midsentence, as though I were supposed to know what Sheila had done or said or whatever.

It was her most annoying quality (outside of, maybe, tapping on the steering wheel when an especially catchy Wham! song came on the radio) and now....

You see? Now I've got it too. My daughter, age 7, thinks I'm insane. "WHAT, Mom, WHAT?" she asks on the way home from school, as though I have an answer. As though I'm not just talking to myself.

It comforts me that nowadays, with all her children out of the house, my mother can not only complete a sentence--she can actually have a complete thought, all her own, which she can choose to share or not share with other people.

In the meanwhile... I do so love that Outkast song.... tap, tap, tap....