without smoking and nobody is dead yet. But the foggy-headed, blurry-vison thing has set in. I feel like my witty reparte has been muzzled.

How long does the blurry vison thing last? It’s like someone smudged my periferal vision. I’ve had some offers on substitutions for the oral fixation (fucking Freud, oral fixation my ass). But it isn’t the act of smoking that I miss. There’s really only been one moment where the habit of putting something in my mouth was the issue and it took about 2 seconds of rational thought to end that.

I wish nicotine patches came in mega doses, or I could keep the nicotine happiness without the death potential of smoking. If they have methadone for heroin junkies I don’t understand why I can’t just take a big ole nicotine pill.

The NY Times thinks the Dems aren’t just gonna take the House back, but could get the Senate as well. So why is Bush Co all smiles and surety? Where’s all the confidence coming from?

Maybe because it’s undesirable voter disenfranchisement time. You know, that special time of year when Republican hacks try to dissuade left leaning voters by sending them letters saying they will be deported if they try to vote.

This ain’t new folks. You know in the last election they told black voters that if they had credit issues or unpaid parking tickets they would be arrested if they tried to vote. They also put fliers up on cars in minority neighborhoods with the wrong election date on them, encouraging voters to show up a day after actual voting took place.

Nice, that’s democracy in action for ya.

A few weeks ago The Stranger ran an article on how you can fuck with Focus On The Family and James Dobson by ordering their books for free. And order I did. Saturday night, when it became apparent that none of us were watching the movie because we were to busy talking and drinking and chain-smoking on my last night of nicotine happiness, I pulled out the books and we all had a huge laugh, followed by several of the books getting chucked across the room so hard I thought the drywall might be damaged. But I think Satan was protecting my drywall cause it’s all good today. (wow- no nicotine equals run on sentences, who knew)

Since I am in the nicotineless mood to kick some ass- I am going to give you some choice quotes from one of the books.

Conversation just had between my little brother and me. This is proof that there is some genetic tweak where we love morbidly gross humor.

Me:Modesty is for people with nothing to brag about
Bro: Huh
Me: I’m trying to be Dorothy Parker so after I’m dead people will quote me
Bro: You want people to call you Dororthy parker after your dead
Me: No, you know, Dorothy Parker, writer from the 30’s, famous for saying things like “If you don’t have anything nice to say come sit next to me”. I want to be quoted like that after I’m dead, and I’m starting with “Modesty is for people with nothing to brag about”
Bro: We’ll put it on your tombstone
Me: That would be cool except that I’m getting cremated.
Bro: Then we’ll make your ashes spell it out
Me: Oh I’ve got an idea- you could get my ashes compressed into a diamond and have those people who write names on rice write it on the diamond.
Bro: Sure, that’s what we’ll do
Me: You’re totaly going to get me cremated at the local bar-b-que place and then dump me in a trash can, aren’t you?
Bro: No, it would be cool if you were a diamond, I could wear you in a ring and say “Hey you want to meet my sister- here she is”
Me: This is my sister, Bling Bling
Bro: Yeah, first name Bling, last name Bling
Me: You could tell them we have different dads and that’s why I’m a bling bling. But if I’m going to be a ring I need to be the most ghettofabulous giant creation ever.
Bro: Sure, we’ll make it like 19 carats,

Do you need more clues to win the giant galleta, I mean cookie?

Come on and let me know
Should I give you a clue
or Should I go

I have found myself thinking and doing things that would have been completely out of character for me 6 months ago. For example, I am actually considering marriage (to someone who is not Cary Grant, but is about as charming). Until recently I didn’t think I was the marrying kind, but maybe I grew up a little. It’s a bit strange (in a very good way) to be considering a relationship where marriage is the ultimate goal.

What’s even weirder is that I am considering the life of a stay at home suburban housewife. This is a much further stretch. I’m urban and except for 2 years after my son was born I’ve worked since I was 14. I’m hopeful that there is negotiating room on this one, like say a cool urban townhome instead of a sprawling suburban ranch and I stay in school. So basically, my life now only in a place with a sunnier climate and having to share decorating decisions with another grown-up.

There is a political side to this. Am I good little progressive feminist even if I enter into a very traditional style relationship? I know that if I stayed home all day I would be driven to chewing my hair and muttering strange things in corners, but I also don’t particularly care about making money. And then there is the issue of privilege. There is privilege in being able to marry while so many gays and lesbians are not. There is also privilege in having the choice to stay home and live in a family where one income is enough. Am I a complete sell-out for taking advantage of those privileges? Would it make me lose some credibility? I have always been independent and very capable of handling things on my own. If I had someone making things easier would I lose some of that toughness?

Oh yeah- and come this Sunday night I am quitting smoking. Totally out of character, but recently cigarettes have started to taste bad (you non-smokers won’t understand how they ever tasted good, but trust me). I have smoked more than half my life, I think it’s time to be done now. I just hope that I don’t kill anyone during nicotine withdrawal and that my friend Ruth was lying when she said that the foggy-headed stupidness you get when you quit doesn’t go away. I think quitting smoking may temporarily turn me into red-state personality, you know, stupid and mean. Wish me luck.

Shakespeare’s Sister calls this the best political ad ever. I have to agree.

Galletas is Spanish for Cookies!

I have loved this song forever, but it wasn’t until a few years ago that I figured out all the background lyrics are in Spanish (so much for my language abilities). The lyrics in Spanish are a rough translation of the English, so either you can interpert for yourself or see what kind of mangled jargon Babelfish spits out at you.

Siempre – coqueteando y engañando
Me arrodilla y estás feliz
Un día bien el otro negro
Al rededar en tu espalda
Me tienes que decir
¿Me debo ir o quedarme?

Chorus (I’m not giving you the lyrics here cause they’re the title of the song)

La indecisión me molesta
Si no me quieres, líbrame
Dígame que debo ser
¿Sabes qué ropa me queda?
Me tienes que decir
¿Me debo ir o quedarme?

Deek and I have been slacking on bringing you the most ghettolicious vehicles to every cross an intersection. I thought I’d bring back hard with this hoopty of a station wagon.