Important Immigration Event in Seattle

People of Seattle, I pity the fool who does not come to this event. Serena Maurer is an amazing teacher at the UW who actively challenges the pedagogy of institutionalized learning. If you do not have the opportunity to take any of her classes, then I highly recommend your attendence.

"I am Not a Criminal!": Immigration, Security and Resistance,"

July 18th, 6:30-8:30 pm
New Freeway Hall
5018 Rainier Ave S. Seattle WA


Please join us for a conversation about the characterization and treatment of immigrants as criminals. This evening is being organized by the Women Studies Department at the University of Washington. Washington Community Action Network is co-sponsoring the conversation.


Moderator and participants:

Serena Maurer, Instructor in Women Studies and 2006 graduate of our PhD Program. Her dissertation research in the Yakima Valley focused on how notions of immigration and criminalization were tied together in resisting struggles for recognition and resources.

Shankar Narayan, Policy Director at Hate Free Zone

Maria Rivera, a local immigrant activist

Maru Villalpando, a Community Organizer with Washington Community Action Network (Washington CAN!).

See you there!!

color me excited

So far the summer of Shanny has been a bit lackadaisical to say the least. However, it is about to get super rad.
The first item on my agenda is to take vacation. What better way to get motivated than to take a break from doing nothing, right? I agree completely and so does my favorite person, HW.
At around 7pm, he and I will be hop into a shiny rental car and rocket north east past the Canadian line. To this lovely place:

Banff, Alberta!!! Banff is located in the Canadian Rockies. We will hike and bike aboot Banff National Park. Then, after a long day of activity, we will soak in mineral hot springs. HOORAY!!!
When we get back, I will get started on my doula and LSAT prep. not so hooray, but still productive and being productive is fun fun fun.

school's out for summer...

Last wednesday was my first and only final of the quarter and my last final of the 2006-2007 school year. It was for the most difficult class I have taken during my college career--PsychoBiology of Women with Professor Nancy J Kenney. She has an extremely unorthodox teaching style that makes the important information she teaches come across as interesting. She also demands that you put in a lot of study hours for her tests, because they are HARD! I thoought I had done so for the first 2 tests and all I got was a big, fat B on both! So I studied my ass off for the final. I dilligently went through practice tests circiling the correct answers and writing down why the other options were incorrect. It was intense. However, when the day of the test came I was not surprised by any of the questions--I owned the material. On this test my grade was quite different. I got an:
Hip Hop Hooray!! This boost in my test score, combined with my service learning work, got me a 4.0 in the class. And incidentally, I earned a 4.0 for the entire quarter. This brings my cumulative GPA up to a 3.9, a very respectable GPA to be applying to law school with.
So now I go enter into the Summer of Shanny with no worries or regrets and will actually be able to

kittens

If my cats got any cuter...

...i might just hack up a fur ball.

i doula like this, i doula like that....

i doula with a wiffle ball bat.

well, not yet anyway. but i will. I just enrolled at the Seattle Midwifery School for postpartum doula training in August.
Doulas perform support for mothers throughout the birthing process and beyond. Doulas are part of a prevalent birthing movement which promotes the importance of recognizing birth as an empowering experience in a woman's life.
After my training, I will focus on the postpartum--
helping a mother adjust to breast feeding.

changing dirty diapers.

and just generally supporting new mom upon her return home.

I am really excited about this opportunity to take what I am learning in school and apply it to my life.
not many people get to say that, right?
anyway, i wanted to share my excitement with my pool of virtual friends.
yay!

top ten reasons to blog

this post is for one person in particular. in my blog he goes by harpo and/or the harp whisperer (HW for short). i digress...

10. it increases your international exposure and your chances of being the future US diplomat to Latvia.
9. your special lady/your fucking lady friend will have another avenue with which to pester you throughout the day.
8. you can keep the world apprised of your bike maintenance.
7. surely there is at least one person on the planet whom wants to be exposed to your rants and whom currently isn't--let this person find you.
6. you'll be plugged into a community of people doing whatever they can to avoid putting on pants.
5. you will leave a legacy for future anthropologists to use while speculating the demise of the human race.
4. you can, so why not?
3. blogging is sexy.
2. you need diverse feedback re: your capacity models for seattle transportation and what better venue than the interweb?
1. the world deserves to know what all those recycle codes on the bottom of plastic bottles REALLY mean.

anybody else have any shining reasons why HW should blog? leave a comment!!!

a collection of cheap locks

I have become a collector of sorts. I'm not really like most collectors who seek out particular items that bring joy into their lives. No, I'm the type that leaves the house and gets to my final destination missing something I simply can't do without. This morning it was my bike lock. I rode all the way to school and the second I rode up to Schmitz Hall, I remembered that I had forgotten to put it in my bag. So, I had to ride around the U-district looking for a place to get a new lock, because there was no way in hell I was going to risk leaving my bike unlocked on the Ave ALL DAY. I am now the proud owner of a cheap master lock that someone could sneeze on and have a fairly good chance of getting it open. but to look on the bright side, it will be handy for securing my tire to my frame. ...
In conclusion, the last few days have been marked by empty headedness and I am at the end of my patience with myself.
That is all.
Good day.

ha!

knitting M read the post below and though i was going to say i was pregnant!
no way, jose.
i thought it was funny though. ...

28 days

It didn't occur to me until now the reason why I have been so tired lately. Granted there have been some extenuating circumstances over the last month, but i think i have discovered the root of the problem. it is nearing the end of my last quarter of my first year at the UW in the women studies department. in fact, there are only 28 days until my last final of the year. less then 28 days to take 2 more tests, write a personal statement, re-write 3 papers, write 2 new papers, write another set of journal entries and all this while having a nervous breakdown.

where will i ever find the time?

if i hit the switch, i can make the ass drop

so, i have a different rubric than ice cube for determining whether a day is a good day or not. he and i have very different life styles. for instance, i never have to use my A.K. so, if i went by mr. cube's logic, every day would be a good day. and while that sounds good on paper, life would be pretty boring without bad days. right?
anyway. when i woke up this morning, i knew i was going to have a good day. shortly after rubbing the sleep from my peepers, i found i'd been sleeping with a man and i had no idea where he came from! most people would rush to a clinic to get tested for STDs. lucky for me the man i found in my bed was dead. this might not be a reassuring idea for everyone either, but it is when the dead guy you find in your bed is mr. jackson.

i also realized today that i did not get charged for the bus pass that was stolen from me a couple weeks ago.
and to top it all off it was nice and sunny today.
i guess if i'd had to use my A.K. at any point during these events, today might not have been so good.
so i guess ice cube isn't completely irrelevant in my life. ...

you can't hold a grudge against a dog

no matter how much you don't want to get up in the morning. even my brother the grizzly bear can't be angered when roused from his sleep by this little pooch.

and this is why i love dogs. ...

biking for beers

while most of the world was recognizing sunday as a day of rest, i was pedalling my little heart out. ...
L-nutz,my best friend's girl, the harp whisperer, and myself rode all day long. HW and I started at the beginning of the Burke-Gilman Trail and met up with friend 1 and friend 2 a little further along. We continued our bike trek to where the Burke stops and the Sammamish River Trail picks up.
Did we stop there? That is an excellent question and the answer is NO. We continued the ride to our final destination in Woodinville: the Red Hook Brewery. Our reward for the long haul was beer. As an adult I've found beer is the only thing that justifies rigorous toil. the beer was delicious, as was the veggie burger that i ate in virtually one bite. The lemon cheesecake was nothing to sneeze at either. Before we got back on our bikes we made the realization that by the time we got home we would have rode approx 41 miles. On the ride home everyone else seemed to have the energy of 1000 warriors, but I was pretty beat and assumed my position in the rear. there was a point after getting back on my bike that i could feel myself begin to melt down. i began to feel upset and wanted to cry, but i didn't know why. luckily i had enough wits about me to call it what it was--fatigue. Throwing my bike on the ground and throwing a fit was not going to get me home any faster and that is all i really wanted. So, I sucked it up and kept going. This is what i am most proud of myself for.
When I arrived home I had just about enough energy for an hour or so of TV. I was hoping I'd have it in me to finish watching Babel, but I could only muster up the energy to watch a PBS special on dogs and eat leftover enchiladas.
I was asleep by 10pm and did not manage to get out of bed until 9:30am. I was sore, hungry and tired after my day of burning 900+ calories. I was convinced that I was going to give myself a rest before putting myself through anymore physical exertion. so, biking up the monster that is Queen Anne hill to get to work was absolutely out of the question--especially considering how saddle sore I was.
Anyway, here I am blogging, sweaty and hungry. ... I ended up riding to work against my better judgement.
time for eats!!

Pom Pom's not Bomb Bomb's

BLOOD, SWEATS AND CHEERS: 10 YEARS OF RAHRAH RADICAL CHEERING

Pom Pom’s Not Bomb Bombs- • Do we make an impact politically? • Action brag book, or I can’t believe you got away with that! • What was your favorite protest, and why? • How does creative street theatre allow you to express your politics? • How do the physical movements and choreography of radical cheerleading affect the way you participate in and feel about political action? Have you or your squad ever written your own cheer? If so, send it to us!
You Too Can Be a Cheerleader! NO TRYOUTS!!! • Where/when did you first see radical cheerleading? •What made you want to be a part of a radical cheerleading squad? • How old were you when you first started cheering, and do you still cheer? • How is radical cheerleading empowering?
We're here we cheer get used to it! Sex, Gender, and Politics • What were/are the gender politics of your squad? • Is radical cheerleading for everyone?
White Girls Gone Wild • How are race and class accounted for in radical cheerleading? • Why does radical cheerleading appeal to _____________ people? •What did your squad look like and why?
Here Come the Cameras and the TV crew • How do radical cheerleading (and performance activism) generate media attention? • Does publicity help or hurt your message? • Which stunts and antics worked, and which didn’t?
Radical cheerleading and fashion. • Pleated skirts and pom poms: Does radical cheerleading ever reproduce the politics or aesthetics it attempts to mock and reject? Queerleaders, jeerleaders, cuntleaders, raging grannies. How radical cheerleading is part of a larger movement of creative protest. (Queerleaders, jeerleaders, cuntleaders, raging grannies.)
Is radical cheerleading 3rd wave? • Is it DIY? When, how and where does it get out of a certain scene?
Do you have a personal collection of radical cheerleading memorabilia? What does it look like?.

Deadline is June 1, 2007. Send your photos, artwork, personal stories, academic essays, manifestos, cheers, collages, sound files, and more to: radicalcheerleaders@gmail.com - or - Francis Goldin Literary Agency 57 E. 11th Street, Suite 5B New York, NY 10003 Attn: Radical Cheerleading Visit us at www.myspace.com/radicalcheerleadingbook All accepted contributors will receive a copy of the book and financial compensation. The editors – Brackin Firecracker, Cara Jennings, and Jeanne Vaccaro – are represented by the politically progressive Francis Goldin Literary Agency in New York City (goldinlit.com). PASS IT ON.

why is my baby cousin so dern cute?

we may never know for sure. ...

califonia dreaming. ...

this week has been as exhausting as i expected. i'm trying to be my dad while he's not here and he's kind of the gofer of the family--he does all the grunt work. so, i've been making breakfast and other meals; cleaning, the yucky bathroom that looked like it got hit by a serious shit storm, the dishes--these people make some serious dishes; and folding laundry.
as well, i've had personal things to keep up with. I have a paper due for class tomorrow and i'm the schedule writer for the yarn barn.
i've also been quiet busy visiting with my cousins. this part of the family can out drink a fleet of sailors. now i know where my dad gets it from.
good news is that all this crazy business has kept me from getting sad. so that's all good. i'll be home friday.

12:23am

my grandmother passed. ...

hindsight and beyond

there are lots of subtle nuances that go by unnoticed and then a life-changing event happens and you can see all those things lining up as would be premonitions and think why didn't i see this coming. ...?
over the last year i've been having many dreams of my grandma with her dyed-brown afro, in the warm sun, preparing a picnic. she is in a brown pair of polyester koulats and has chanklas on her feet. for the most part, i only see her from the waist down and am mesmerized by her smooth, tan legs. i'm guessing i'm a child in these dreams, or at least have a childlike perspective. i usually wake up from these dreams feeling cheated, because i don't get to have that grandma ever again. i don't get to resent her for sticking her nose in my business and i don't get to yell at her. i also don't get to sit next to her while she reads romance novels and i definitely don't get to sneak into her stash of fresh homemade tortillas.
last week i had a dream that she was in her hospital bed and she was not well. i was there, but i wasn't. it was very different from the dreams i'm used to having about her and i didn't feel any better about it. for some reason, every time my dad called this week i was afraid something had happened to her.
well, i got the call yesterday. she's begun throwing fits. she has ripped off her clothes and refuses to put them back on. she acts like the water forced down her throat burns. she's not eating. ...
up until a week ago she had an appetite twice as large as mine. now she maybe eats a portion of applesauce in a day. she's on heavy doses of morphine and in hospice care.
i look at the last month and think, why did i not plan for this. it seems so obvious to me now. but i could never plan for something this tragic. you just can't foresee this sort of thing.
anyway, i'm flying out in about 12 hours to be with my family and wait for her to go. it may not happen while i'm there, but it will happen soon.
and yesterday was beginning so nicely. i should have known seeing ted leo twice in one week would upset the gods. now i know better. ...

a shout out to my homies in Riga

i am nothing if not a voyeur. i think modest mouse wrote a song about me. because as a rule i am watching you watch me watch you right now... no, i am not a stalker, but i do pay close attention to the people who are looking at my blog on a regular basis. typically i see what i would expect to find: a lot of people viewing from seattle or other places where i have relations in the US. what amazes me are the number of people viewing from around the globe. it makes me curious to know what my global counterparts think of this ranty american bird. anyway, i decided to highlight an area where people are viewing in high numbers. this is an area that rarely creeps into my american consciousness and i thought maybe it should. and while i'm at it, i might as well bring you along. ...
So join me for "Latvia, This is Your Life."
Riga is the largest city in the Baltic States and the capital of Latvia. It is a one night train ride from Moscow or St. Petersburg. Latvia is a member of EU and you do not need a visa.

Riga is a beautiful European city with over than 800 years of history. It is an old town with narrow streets which offer you the spirit of the Middle Ages. There are many historical monuments and numerous cafes and restaurants where you can find both Latvian and European food. Riga has a great colorful farmer's market, beautiful parks, and good shopping. If you are lucky, you may attend an organ concert in Dome Cathedral and listen to one of the best organs in Europe.
Natural resources include peat, limestone, dolomite, hydro power, wood, and arable land.
Here's a link for more statisticsThe World Factbook
Tourism appears to be gaining steam in this area. My suggestion is pick up a translation book, commission a guide and go.
and remember: TODAY IS THE DAY WE CELEBRATE LATVIA!!!!

ted leo rx

tonight my roommate and i went to the showbox to see ted leo and the pharmacists. most people who know me for any length of time know that ted leo is destined to become my future ex-husband. it's a dream i've had since 1997 and is still alive and kicking to some extent.
anyway, the show was big fun eventhough it was at the showbox. i generally don't like going to shows at this particular venue, but i'd stand in a urinal to swoon over my dream boat.



this is the hair farmer who only had eyes for me. ...


it was a little odd. i engaged in some serious eye contact for the entirty of the pharmacists' set. at 1st i felt uncomfortable. like does he know that i know he's looking right at me. then i thought i was imagining it. until i would do something silly and get a visual response from him. i finally decided to work it in hopes of meeting these pop icons. i failed, but had fun doing it. it was an all ages show, so i felt like a bit of an old maid. but i danced and went crazy as is typical of this manic hispanic to do.
and now it's off to bed as i my dancing shoes are ready to be tucked in.
goodnight moon.

spring chick chat

today i am really hoping these may flowers will be worth all the april showers. i'm growing tired of being damp and looking forward to popsicle season.

I think for may, to celebrate all the lovely flowers, i'm going to host an inconvenient movie night with a twist of naked lady. i have not yet seen an inconvenient truth and would love company. this way afterward we can engage in meaningful dialogue while rifling through each other's unwanted clothing. because what is more sustainable than recycling fashion? i may even set up my sewing machine for impromptu mending/altering. and if there are any clothes that don't have a good home lined up by the end of the evening, i live across the street from a church with a donation center, or we can take the stuff to Treehouse. it should be a lot of fun and enriching to some extent, right??

this reminds me of the one naked lady party i've attended in my life. well, no one got naked and it was pre-puberty. so, i wasn't really a lady yet (i'm still waiting patiently for that level of maturation to take). Anyway, this girl we called smithers and i went to her neighbor's house. she was getting rid of her older cool girl clothes. smithers and i took turns picking out what we would take and after all of smithers' selections i threw a fit, shouting: "NO FAIR!!! i wanted that!" and when she eventually conceded, because she really had no other choice, i didn't want the garment anymore. i only wanted the things she wanted and if she didn't want them anymore, i didn't want them either. after not too long, my mother was requested to come take me home, because i had begun the destruction that only a self-centered, fickle youngster can engage in. ah to be a kid again. ...

anyway, i promise i will try to make this more successful than that particular event. and i'm sure all of you are happy that you were not friends with me during this period of my life.

i'll keep you apprised of details as they unfold.

at the end of the longest hangover...

...that's where i will always be.
or at least it seems that way for the moment. I had a few too many "vegan" caucasians last night and my head is reeling. but i woke up and listened to white trash, 2 heebs and a bean and it put what is as close to a hop in my step that is going to happen before noon today.
i love that i can't get my act together, but i can still manage to craft a run-on sentence.

ever the wordsmith, i am

these mitzvahs i have done

So far, this morning has been a string of good deeds for me.

i witnessed a woman having trouble getting her baby Bjorn strapped onto her. so, i marched across the room and helped her get it snapped in place.
then, i saw the wind blow a hat off a young man's head and blow it just out of his reach every time he bent over to pick it up. it was quite humorous. anyway, it crossed paths with me and i was able to stop the runaway hat.
I've also felt compelled to hold open more doors than normal.
and all this before noon.

if I'm going to keep up this good deed doing I'll need a cup of coffee. though it makes me wonder and hope that these deeds go unpunished.
maybe i shouldn't push my luck?

easter sunday funday

Hay-Zues died for our sins and rose again. which is why we hide the eggs? ...

no eggs for me. i did not even eat any for breakfast. today was just another sunday which is my only day off per week. so i usually spend it scrambling to get as much done as humanly possible.
the easiest part of my day was picking up a bookshelf that i found on craigslist. it was smaller than i thought, but $10 cheaper than buying it new at ikea. which brings me to the second errand on the list. get a bed frame--for god's sake shannon you're a grownup and grown ups don't sleep on mattresses in the middle of the floor. This part of my day was especially stressful because the all bed frames i wanted were "out of stock." when i got to the self serve area, i realized that all the beds listed in stock were actually out of stock. but as luck would have it, the one i really wanted actually WAS in stock. i was a little peeved that i wasted all of 5 minutes talking myself in the lesser of the two frames only to find the one i originally wanted. anyway, i don't know how i got that thing in the car, out of the car, and into the apartment all by myself. i can only say it was a miracle. assembling the bed, however, was no miracle. about half of the hardware that came for frame assembly would not fit in its designated hole [if you saw a pun there you are banished from this blog]. Also, I did not possess my typical building finesse. anyway, after 3 hours of losing a fair amount of blood, patience, and some taking of the lord's name in vain i have an assembled bed. i must admit i am a bit concerned about the amount of hardware i have left over. let's hope i make it through the night in one piece.
i think i am being punished for not smashing hard boiled huevos over my brothers head this year.
all-in-all i am happy. i now have a bedroom set of mathcing furniture (night stands, book shelf, and bed). i think at the end of this day i can safely say i am a grown up. if not for attempting to get my act together then at least for the amount of adult content that spewed from my lips.
anyway, i must go pick up my roommate, sasha, from work. she was nice enough to let me use her ride all day.
yay.

In lighter news...

so far today has been a little intense.
first of all, i woke up around 5:30am. luckily there was time to take a nap before class.
the 1st thing i see upon arrival to class was a memorial/display with stats on victims of domestic abuse fatalities. I have a big bleeding heart. so, things like this always put me in a mood akin to out-of-sorts, with tinges of grief. In other words i become somewhat preoccupied with grief.
then, as i was on my way to class, i ran into a friend and she told me about a fatal >shooting that happened only an hour before i had stepped foot on campus. two people are dead. at this point it is believed to be a murder suicide. however, this is pending a full investigation of the crime scene.
How awful right? what exactly makes people so crazy. i don't think i can ever fully comprehend and part of me is relieved. it seems like quite a burden to bear.
anyway. flags, if you've got them, fly them at half mast. and if not, just thank your stars no one has taken a shot at you today.

they say it's MY birthday!

Today, on my birthday, I've decided to impart some wisdom upon all of you. Here are the things I have learned after 26 years of doing the livin' thang:
1. paying the bills, and doing it well, is not worth your sanity/happiness.
2. cats don't like to be spooned (i need a dog).
3. given the right opportunity, even the kitty who loves you most will claw your face off.
4. orange hair suits my fancy.
5. i have learned to embrace my neurosis. facing my fears just makes them worse.
6. i guess boys can be ok. you just need to find the genuine ones.
7. you don't actually have to tear the hole out of those paper toilet seat protectors!!
(yes, i just admitting to sitting my butt on the seat.)
8. i'm a very industrious student.
9. i love my yarn store job and my yarn store boss lady (even when i am not particularly fond of either). HILLTOP YARN ROCKS!!!
10. i love my friends and i love my life (even when i am not particularly fond of either). MORRISSEY ROCKS!!!
hope you all have a great day in my honour!!

spring fever believer

It's spring break.
my dad and my brother are visiting from the dirt pit.
i am beginning the packing process.
i am menstruating (and grumpy, but that goes without saying).
i can't say that i am much in the mood to be entertaining.
i thought it important to note that i began tracking my blog hits in february of this year.
i've been surprised to see the international turn out for my half-witted rants.
countries such as: mexico, spain, vietnem, united arab emirates, etc. ...
that seems pretty awesome to me and has given me perspective on how all-encompassing the internet is.
anyway, i'm approaching hit #1000.
you should look to see what number you are and if you're #1000 say something clever.
you might just get a surprise.

I've Got to Move, Wa-Oh-Oh

Usually this statement refers to me and the dance floor. This time it refers to me and my apartment.



I have been living in the basement of a house for nearly 1 year. My apartment is quite nice and I do love it. However, it has no bath tub. So, for an entire year I have been unable to have Calgone take me away. It's really been rough. Also, my landlord lives directly above me (with her husband). They are old. Not to be an ageist, but everything in their living space is soooo loud! I can hear their answering machine every time it goes off (not to mention I hear the phone ringing). and it's not like I hear a faint ringing and then the hint of answering machine. No, I hear it like I am sitting right next to it. They also listen to the television full tilt. When they watch TV, I have to turn mine up, so I can hear it over theirs. I always hear them moving about and they are up so late. They have no respect for my privacy. I feel like they are about to barge into my apartment or knock on my window at any minute. It really is quite nerve racking. As well, part of my rent is to do yard work every month. This becomes quite taxing when I have school assignments AND blogging to do. I mean my gawd!
All this has led me to find a roommate and get the hell out of dodge. Because I really can't take it anymore.
What this leads me to is that I am in serious need of boxes. If you have and and/or free time, send it over my way. please.
also, after I move, come see my new home and my new apt.
yay. kiss kiss and all that jazz
adios

lurkers come out! i need everyone's help

So, I have 1 final research paper due for the quarter. It is for my Reading Native Women's Lives class. The paper is on Native identity and misappropriations of cultural imagery. In doing so, I Googled some terms to see what images came up. If you wouldn't mind jotting down some brief comments, I would be much obliged. (keep in mind not all images are negative)

image 1:

image 2:

image 3:

image 4:

image 5:

image 6:

image 7:


Thanks a lot! I really appreciate. This will help me attain the 4.0 in this class that I think I deserve. (not that I am entitled as a colonial force in a Indigenous Studies class. Just because I've worked so hard to conquer the material. My conquistador ancestors would be pleased.)

LIKE TOTALLY PISSED (on)

So, some of you may know my little baby heads: Julia (AKA Bad Joo Joos) and Fernando (AKA FerNannyNanny, FerNambiePampie, and JeebusFernandoYouHaveADingleBerry).
These two:

The other day I was loving on my bebs and realized that they totally smelled like cats and that derned Julia has Wolverine claws!
I decided to take matters in my own hands today. I trimmed both cat's claws and bathed the little buggers. Look at how cute they are when they are all wet and shivery!

Here's Joo Joos
She looks angry, doesn't she?

and Fernanny
isn't he cute when he's all small?

Sometime after their bathing encounter, they were still pretty wet and pretty shivery. I started brushing Fernanny. It actually seemed to help him dry a bit and stop shaking. After realizing this success, I decided to do the same for my Joo Joo Snuggle Monkey. So, I had her on my lap and was brushing her. It seemed to be helping her look a little less wet. However, there was something different this time. She felt really wet on her underside...and warm? Oh dear gawd, she's peeing on me!!!
I pushed her off my now saturated leg and she b-lined it to the litter shack.
I tore my pants off in a flash. (listen up fellas. apparently this is the sure fire way to get my pants off.)
I have been traumatized. Up until this point, I have prided myself on never having been peed on. I can't even imagine what parents feel like. I only know if it's anything like this experience, I could never do it!
yucky yuck. now I must go do laundry--they were my favorite pants!! Now they will forever live on as my piss pants and Julia as my piss bag.
Thank you and goodnight.

phobiatic problematic

Composer, Allen Shaw, was interviewd this morning on NPR's Morning Edition. He was there talking about his new book: "Wish I Could be There: Notes From a Phobic Life." Composer Allen Shawn lives a phobic life. He doesn't like heights, bridges, tunnels, subways, elevators, open spaces or closed spaces. Hence the title of his book. It begins with how his fears make a short drive through the woods a daunting journey.
Listening to him made me link my phobias and experiences with his. Granted, I don't think mine are as extreme as his, but they are similar. What I find daunting, is that they seem to get worse over time. So, maybe when I am his age, my fear will become dibilitating. This freaks me the "f" out. I am constatnly trying to "face my fears." However, each face off finds my fears the undefeated winner. I don't need someone to hold my hand on planes, but I do have to monitor my breathing while in the air. I either breathe too fast or not at all. I get dizzy when high up, I have crippling performance anxiety. The only thing I've overcome is my shyness. It was stifling as a child. If I didn't know you, I would not get out from underneath my mom's skirt.

Shaw states in the book: "The degree of my self-preoccupation is appalling."

"Fear makes you focus very, very vigilantly on something," he says. Just as someone who has a gun pointed at him focuses solely on that gun and how to avoid getting shot, Shawn says, a person who's afraid of sitting in the middle of a theater will think of nothing else but: "How can I get out of here? Why is that person next to me so big? Where was that exit?"

"That kind of self-preoccupation is really silly, but it's what happens to the phobic," he says.

During the course of the Shaw interview, Renee Montagne asked if writing about his fears made them any less intense. He said analyzing the things that make him cease to tick, leads him to think of them as personality quirks. However, this does not serve to make them any less severe in their affects. What makes him feel ok is thinking of the great geniouses that could not live outside of their constructed worlds--Emily Dickinson and others.
This makes me think the one day, I too can be ok with my phobias. Or at least come to terms with the fact that I may never change them.