Stepping Off the Soapbox–For Now
I’ve let my anger subside before posting again; I have to say that my fury at the current administration boiled over last night, but I’m not going to apologize for it–Bush and Company have to pay for their callous treatment of the situation on the Gulf coast. They are all assholes extraordinaire, and nothing anyone says or does can change that. I knew it in 2000, I know it now–Bush is bad for this country, period. Let an independent investigation be done, and if local authorities have culpability (be they Republican or Democrat or whatever), they’ll share in it, but there’s no denying that the Bush administration did not act in time. They were too busy accepting guitars and going to town hall meetings.
And yes, I must echo what was said to Cheney in Mississippi–"Go fuck yourself, Mr. Cheney."
I now force myself to turn to personal, mundane matters before I accidentally call upon powers unimaginable in order to toss these guys from office.
Running-wise, things this week were not so hot. While my seven-mile run on Monday was incredible, the subsequent three- and five-mile runs yesterday and today went from sub-par to awful. I needed to walk more than a mile when it came to today’s run–a combination of heat and an off-balance schedule tampered with my running week. I can only hope that I’ll recover from this week (which was easy, in comparison to other weeks) in time for Saturday’s 10K.
Work-wise, thanks to my wonderful sister, I now have a private space in which to do my work without interruption. It is very nice indeed to not have to listen to my audio work or music with earphones–that would always lead to headaches. I work much more comfortably now, and my situation seems to have improved. I think things will be well until I can find a job in Undisclosed Location (which I’ll probably disclose in casual posting once I move; right now, as it’s not my place of residence, I’ll keep my mouth shut).
I have been invited to my high school friend’s baby shower and, yet again, my name is fucked up by those throwing the party. I cannot understand why people are so careless with my name, and I do not understand people who don’t take care with names in general. To me, a name is quite special–it is what first defines you as an individual, and continues to throughout your years as you form your beliefs and attitudes. To have people continuously screw it up–none of the people throwing parties for my friends have every gotten my name right–is really getting to me. To me, it’s basic respect–when I can’t pronounce a name, I ask; if I can’t get it right, I’ll conceded it and apologize. If I can’t spell a name, I’ll ask them to spell it for me. I don’t want to mess up an identity. It sounds extreme, but honestly–this has been going on for 27 years of my life and it has gotten old. If I do ever have to send out invitations for a wedding, if I ever have to pass on a guest list to my sister or someone throwing a baby shower for me, I’ll make sure every name is spelled correctly. If I’ve said it before, I’ve said it a million times: Words matter, and that goes for names, too.
See? I just want to rant. I’m ranting about names, but I really want to abuse Bush, Cheney, Brown, Chertoff and Republican apologists. Oh, and don’t think you’re out of my line of vision, Governor Schwarzenegger (NY Times link, req. req.).
It’s been a long day of running, working, watching video clips and reading a bunch of articles. Time to get some rest from the computer.
