reposted from my personal blog

How dare you.

“I have a much broader base to build a winning coalition on,” she said in an interview with USA TODAY. As evidence, Clinton cited an Associated Press article “that found how Sen. Obama’s support among working, hard-working Americans, white Americans, is weakening again, and how whites in both states who had not completed college were supporting me.”

Emphasis mine. How dare you. Hard-working Americans are white, huh? All of those other pesky colored folks must be screwing up the curve, stealing your jobs, plundering your businesses. That one statement shows exactly why people like Jeremiah Wright are angry with America. That statement shows exactly why you are the wrong person to be President of the United States. In case you hadn’t noticed - if you want this job of President you’re going to have to win over a hell of a lot more people than your “hard-working Americans, white Americans.” Not everyone in this country is white. That one statement effectively disengages a hearty proportion of people for whom you serve.

Why does this bother me so much? I have racism on my brain a lot lately; we have been discussing it a lot on the moms board I participate in, and I have had to, again, explain what it is like being Asian American. It is a tiring discourse, one that is emotionally draining and sometimes I question its efficacy or its worth. But I do it because it is important to me to speak up. I want Matthew to grow up challenging statements like the one Clinton gave and see it for the racist crap that it is. I want him to fight for change, and I want him to win.

So, Senator Clinton, this is why you will definitely NOT be getting my vote in November. I won’t be voting for McCain, but you, I am leaving behind. I thought long and hard at the beginning of this long election cycle about your candidacy and Senator Obama’s, and I have always thought that no matter what happens, I would be happy to vote for either of you. As of now, though, we’re done - through - kaput - finito. It’s over. It’s not me, it’s you.

Best of luck as Senator,

Casey

Eleven Tips on Getting More Efficiency Out of Women Employees



There’s no longer any question whether transit companies should hire women for jobs formerly held by men. The draft and manpower shortage has settled that point. The important things now are to select the most efficient women available and how to use them to the best advantage. Here are eleven helpful tips on the subject from western properties:



1. If you can get them, pick young married women. They have these advantages, according to the reports of western companies: they usually have more of a sense of responsibility than do their unmarried sisters; they’re less likely to be flirtatious; as a rule, they need the work or they wouldn’t be doing it — maybe a sick husband or one who’s in the army; they still have the pep and interest to work hard and to deal with the public efficiently.



2. When you have to use older women, try to get ones who have worked outside the home at some time in their lives. Most transportation companies have found that older women who have never contacted the public, have a hard time adapting themselves, are inclined to be cantankerous and fussy. It’s always well to impress upon older women the importance of friendliness and courtesy.



3. While there are exceptions, of course, to this rule, general experience indicates that “husky” girls — those who are just a little on the heavy side — are likely to be more even-tempered and efficient than their underweight sisters.



4. Retain a physician to give each woman you hire a special physical examination — one covering female conditions. This step not only protects the property against the possibilities of lawsuit but also reveals whether the employee-to-be has any female weaknesses which would make her mentally or physically unfit for the job. Transit companies that follow this practice report a surprising number of women turned down for nervous disorders.



5. In breaking in women who haven’t previously done outside work, stress at the outset the importance of time — the fact that a minute or two lost here and there makes serious inroads on schedules. Until this point is gotten across, service is likely to be slowed up.



6. Give the female employe in garage or office a definite day-long schedule of duties so that she’ll keep busy without bothering the management for instructions every few minutes. Numerous properties say that women make excellent workers when they have their jobs cut out for them but that they lack initiative in finding work themselves.



7. Whenever possible, let the inside employe change from one job to another at some time during the day. Women are inclined to be nervous and they’re happier with change.



8. Give every girl an adequate number of rest periods during the day. Companies that are already using large numbers of women stress the fact that you have to make some allowances for feminine psychology. A girl has more confidence and consequently is more efficient if she can keep her hair tidied, apply fresh lipstick and wash her hands several times a day.



9. Be tactful in issuing instructions or in making criticisms. Women are often sensitive; they can’t shrug off harsh words the way that men do. Never ridicule a woman — it breaks her spirit and cuts her efficiency.



10. Be reasonably considerate about using strong language around women. Even though a girl’s husband or father may swear vociferously, she’ll grow to dislike a place of business where she hears too much of this.



11. Get enough size variety in operator uniforms that each girl can have a proper fit. This point can’t be stressed too strongly as a means of keeping women happy, according to western properties.

Today is Easter, at least in the West. This means many things in my family; chocolate bunnies, eggs, candy and assorted pagan paraphernalia that culture has kept secularly attached to the later Christian celebration. For my extended family, as well as my in-laws, this is a very holy day–it is the resurrection of their savior. I do not want to take this lightly, and in the past it has never been an issue to have dinner together after they return from church. With children, however, things are changing. I want my children to learn how this day has religious significance for people, even though we are not believers, but I am not sure how to approach this with sensitivity for the views of my in-laws while not compromising our own decidedly non-religious celebration of the day.

I suppose 21 months is a bit early  for history and culture lessons beyond how cool chocolate bunnies are, but holidays always bring these thoughts to the forefront. Part of the dilemma is that my husband’s family really wants us to be Catholic. I can respect this; to them it is the true path and they are sad that their son and his family are not on it. They even admitted that they had wanted to find a priest who would baptize the children when we weren’t around. They’ve decided (thankfully) that this was a terrible idea, but they are still looking for loopholes in our instructions to them to insert religious dogma into my children’s minds, and it’s immensely frustrating. It’s a matter of if we haven’t specifically told them not to do/say something, they feel that is a good time to instruct them on Catholicism. It shows a fundamental lack of respect for my husband and I as intelligent adults and parents, but they don’t see it that way. As I said above, I want my children to learn about various faiths as they are able to understand them, and if my children choose one as they get older I’ll support them in it. I’m just tired of feeling on edge on the holidays that are both secular and religious as I try to protect my children from “truth” that isn’t truth to our family. I’m tired of having to force the respect, because it isn’t really respect if it’s forced, is it?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFxk7glmMbo

 Discuss

I swear I am not the youtube queen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dH5we3HYHUo

I can’t embed so the link will have to do……..

Really?  REALLY?  I’m all for the I’m ok, you’re ok, my boobs are ok thing.  Hey!  I think it’s great to have confidence in your body.  But how & in what horrifice universe is it ok to brag about being a dumb tramp because you have great ta-tas?  I do not get it.

 I know this is meant to be a silly song.  However, it has an effect once it’s put out into the world.  Given enough songs like “My Boobs Are OK”, well  people start to believe.  They start to believe that it’s ok to be stupid if you have a hot rack.  Or that you should ASPIRE to being stupid & having a hot rack.  It makes me afraid for our daughters.  And afraid for my son.  Images & media like this effect our sons as well as our daughters.  Like when people sexualize little girls.  When you put a prepubesent girl in a shortie cheerleader skirt & put paw prints on the seat of her cheerleader drawers….. not only does it sexualize the little girl, but also the little boys.

Am I an old fart?  I really am just so much more comfortable & accepting of “I’m OK, You’re OK” or “Our Bodies, Ourselves” than I am with “My Boobs Are OK”.  Honestly I think I am so disgusted by what this video spews out into the universe that i can’t even be cohereant about it.  I have been trying to write this post for 3 days & I just can’t seem to get anywhere.  Maybe I should just go put a Barbie on the barbie.

On Friday, a husband and four grown children encircled the hospital bed that contained their wife and mother.  Since the beginning of humanity, I imagine that loved ones have gathered around the dying in this way, speaking gentle words, smoothing a forehead, holding a cool hand, beckoning those who have gone before to act as ushers into the next world.

She was too young for this, not even 70, but lung cancer knows nothing of age.  She was a beloved wife, the mother of three sons and a daughter, the grandmother of six, the great-grandmother of one.  She played softball and loved to bowl.  My friend, one of her sons, said that she fought to continue living for over a year. 

I read her obituary yesterday, and in it her family asked that instead of sending flowers, just live your life to the fullest, do something you love, and hug your family.

Two days later, 100 miles due south, a 43 year old man watched his mother and his fiancee have breakfast together.  His own breakfast was administered by a feeding tube.  His inability to eat by mouth was the result of extensive surgeries to cure what was originally a cancerous area on the base of his tongue. 

It was a pleasant morning nonetheless.  Unable to speak for some months now, he had recently managed to squeak out the words I love you to his young son.   The boy, overwhelmed with happiness, had jumped up and down on the couch, breathless and joyful.  “Did you hear that Grandma?!  Daddy said he loves me!” 

Despite surgery, chemotherapy, and experimental treatments, a mass lurked in the dark secret places of his neck, pressing on his carotid artery.  The growing mass systematically eroded the layers of that artery, and as he walked slowly into the bathroom on Sunday morning, the final layer was irreversibly compromised.  His fiancee, alerted only by an uncharacteristic cough, went to check on him.  She found him there and called his mother, my own husband’s aunt, who held him in her arms as his final moments came to pass. 

Is it too much to hope that the last image his consciousness was able to hold was that of his son?  Perhaps his mind’s eye even replayed his son’s joyful leaping as he uttered the words every child longs to hear…I love you.

It is always hard to be reminded that we are connected to this existence by such a fragile tether.  As I kissed my own son’s pink cheek last night, I was even more thankful than I always am for the opportunity.  As I walked past my bathroom scale, I realized how insignificant its numbers actually are - the weight of my life means so much more.  As I climbed into bed next to my dear sweet husband, I took a moment to see clearly what a blessing he is to our lives. 

Live your life to the fullest.  Do something you love.  Hug your family.  Sometimes the simplest advice is truly the best.

I used to spend a fortune on underwear. Silk, satin, lace, even upscale cotton; I was the Queen of Intimate Apparel, and Victoria’s Secret was my demesne. Today, however, I lowered my hoity-toity standards. I bought panties in bulkat Costco. My husband is a lucky man.

At least I’ll be comfortable.

One of my sons vomited in his sleep a few nights ago. He didn’t cry, whimper or scream; he just went back to sleep in it, poor little dude. The next morning, he handed my husband a handful of half digested bits. While this is rather gross, I don’t think it warranted the actual gagging from my husband as he picked our son out of the crib. I went in, cleaned the bedding, the crib, the floor, etc., and it was not a big deal. I can’t say that it was fun, but gag worthy? No way. I’m not sure if I’m tough or if my husband is a pansy, but after they’ve thrown up on me, pooped on me, peed on me and even (blush) eaten a piece of cat poop and kissed me, what’s a bit of vomit in a crib?

Just gag me now. 

I just logged in to this site and saw that the last draft I started was entitled “If This is a Holiday, I Pick Work.”  Good heavens!  Apparently there was a bit o’ holiday stress nagging at me.  In the post, I was whining and sniveling about shopping and wrapping and traffic and cooking and the stress of preparing to take a week off.  I claimed to be happy, somewhere deep down inside, about doing it all - but I wasn’t very convincing.

What is especially interesting to me is that merely 6 weeks later, I have very little concrete recollection of this very stressful time.   I read the post with a bit of wonderment; it seemed that it had even possibly been written by someone else.  Oh, the wonderous mind, cleverly erasing the unpleasant chalk marks of life!  

It’s gotten me thinking about the unnecessary stress I have suffered over tasks and events that faded so quickly.  I wasted energy and - even worse - missed out on opporunities for joy.  It’s a normal and necessary part of life, these cyclical patterns, these ups and these downs.   My logical mind knows that.  Why do I insist on fighting it?  Why not relax and just let it pass right on by?

If I’m going to have any kind of resolution this year, it’s going to be to try to see these infrequent yet stressful situations for what they really are…fleeting, transient dark moments, evaporating soon enough into what is always a brighter time.