Callie

Tonight, Callie did something I've never seen (heard) her do before. She got so upset about the cat sniffing a plate of baklava that she barked at her sharply, then whined pitifully for a solid three minutes. I got some of it on video (I had to be sneaky, so I couldn't get a shot of her face, but Jay assures me that it was hilarious).



The noise she makes at around 0:32 makes me giggle especially hard.

HIMYM, again

Yet another reason why I love How I Met Your Mother:

Barney Stinson's Video Resume

The one featured on the show itself was longer (and even more awesome), but this is a good tease. I'm going to be singing that song for the next week, guaranteed (references available!).

HIMYM has a history of creating websites and other extras based on throwaway references made by the characters. They know how to reward their fans, and I love them for it. Here's a sampling:

Ted Mosby Is a Jerk

Barney's blog

Robin Sparkles

Lily and Marshall Sell Their Stuff

And of course, there's The Bro Code.

Man, could this show be any greater? I think not.

EDIT: Found another one! MysteriousDrX

100th post...with actual opinions!

Behold...my 100th post! On the one-year anniversary of this site, no less.

By design, I've kept this space pretty light in the year I've been tending it. There are so many maddening, depressing things going on in this world, and I spend enough time fuming about them privately to have much desire to add to the global diatribe in a more public forum. But even though this blog has had a fairly frivolous bent, I can't help but speak up every now and then about weightier issues. And since November 5th, one of those issues has plagued my thoughts almost constantly. It's the issue of equality -- of affording every human being on this planet the same rights and privileges under the law. I still can't believe we're debating that question, but here we are.

The topic has conjured a host of emotional responses in me -- outrage; frustration; fear; sadness; amazement. When I saw Milk last month, I commented to Jay that it was incredible how much and how little had changed in 30 years. Yes, as a country we've made undeniable strides in the last three decades. There's more acceptance overall, more willingness to understand other people's lifestyle choices without passing judgment. But when it comes to a vote, the majority of people are answering those questions with the same fear, intolerance, and hate as they always have, using the same specious arguments that have been debunked over and over again for decades.

The one that really angers me is the equation of homosexuality to bestiality -- you know, the old "If we let 'the gays' marry, what's next? A man marrying his dog?" line of reasoning. Frankly, I find that particular argument shamefully offensive. How can you compare the relationship between two mature, loving, consenting human beings to a man fucking his dog? No one's trying to legalize bestiality or child molestation -- heinous acts of violation that harm defenseless, non-consenting beings. People fighting against crap like Prop 8 are only trying to ensure that adults can marry other adults. Because they love each other. How in the world is that wrong?

Another argument I've heard is that a same-sex union is not an ideal environment to raise children. First of all, numerous scientific studies have shown just the opposite; it's the love, support, and commitment of the parents that matter, not the parents' gender. And second of all, if you're placing restrictions on who should raise children, why don't we start with addicts, or gang members, or, hell, convicted child molesters? And finally, who ever said that you have to be able to raise children in order to get married? Our species certainly isn't in any trouble of dying out, so that isn't the issue. I don't see how this can possibly be used by any reasonably well-informed person as an argument against gay marriage, but it's one of the most prevalent arguments out there.

Let's face it, in California you can marry a prison inmate, but not your same-sex partner of 5 or 10 or 20 years. Hell, if you're gay, a couple of straight, married, crackhead drug dealers have more rights than you do. And why? Because you have the same body parts as the person you love? Because you don't like to have sex with someone of the opposite sex?

Okay, seriously, this one really bugs me: what any person does in the privacy of his or her own home should never, ever be an issue in any argument against gay marriage. First of all, you want to outlaw sodomy? Then you should go ahead and lock up most of the straight couples I know. And more importantly, why should anyone be denied equal rights and privileges under the law just because some people aren't comfortable with their sexual proclivities? Lord knows I find the idea of people who eat each other's shit disgusting, but I would never claim that they shouldn't be allowed to get married because of it. That's just ludicrous.

And finally, I already addressed the religious argument in my last post on the subject, but even if there are objections to gay marriage on religious grounds, I feel I need to point out that we don't live in a theocracy. Even though the lines between church and state are blurred more than I'd like, they do still exist, and we should not let anyone's religion decide the fate of millions of people. And yet that's essentially what's happening in our country.


Jon Stewart vs. Mike Huckabee

I think one problem is that it's easy for some people to rest on exclusionary rhetoric when it's in the abstract. I believe that a lot of people would benefit from knowing a gay couple, or a gay person. Perhaps they'd realize that they're all (we're all) just people -- not "special," not "different," not "them" -- just human beings who want the same things as everyone does, who want to have a place and a voice in their own country. I'd wager that it's a lot more difficult to coherently relate any anti-gay marriage reasoning to a gay couple in love. When there's an actual human face on the issue, when it's someone's life and happiness you're trying to wreck? Not so easy.

I still want to know -- what are people so afraid of? What do they think is going to happen if gay marriage is legalized? Plenty of other countries, and even a couple states in our own country, allow gay marriage, and they're no worse for it. Our society isn't going to collapse because we give everyone equal rights. In fact, I'd argue that it'd get even better without all the friction, the anger and frustration and distrust dividing people down religious and party lines.

To sum up, I've yet to hear any sane, logical reason why gay people shouldn't be allowed to marry. I truly believe that the majority of people who are against gay marriage haven't given it much thought beyond the initial gut reaction (confusion? fear of change? fear of 'the other'?). And I find it outrageous that the same prejudices continue to find new voices generation after generation, the same way racism and misogyny are passed along. Few things are more dangerous than unexamined beliefs.

I don't want to be a total downer, so how 'bout a humorous take on the subject? Look, it's Prop 8: The Musical!

Fun with Photo Booth

Sometimes, there's nothing I enjoy more than being silly, especially when I can recruit my younger siblings into the goofiness.

Here we are as a pop art trio:

...and slightly sinister, shadowy forces:

...and...ummm...:

...grotesquely stretched:

...circus freaks:

...and nightmare-inducing monsters:

Just so I don't end on such a scary note, here are 2 cool photos the kids came up with when left to their own devices:


Pretty neat, those two. I kinda like 'em.

The Natalie rap

Wow. Just...wow. I never imagined that the sentence "Natalie Portman raps" would make me burst into actual giggles of the non-mocking variety, but that was before I watched this video:



WHAT!

[Nothing much to see here these days. I'm treading water in the Sea of Exhaustion, enjoying my new MacBook (evil temptress though she is!), and watching lots of TV while snuggled up under blankets. 'S all I can manage for now. More to come when I emerge from this slight funk.]

50 reasons

One of the many, many reasons I love How I Met Your Mother:

Cat in a box

A new way to think about your favorite foods

Barney on How I Met Your Mother:

"I love this burger so much, I want to sew my ass shut."

Run, before he finds you

Apparently, when you type "Chuck Norris" into Google Search and select "I'm Feeling Lucky," magic happens.

Do it. I dare you.

Laughing babies...dammit, I'm a marshmallow

Okay, I know it's totally at odds with my cynicism, but I am a sucker for laughing babies. Especially the belly laughs. They're freaking adorable. MSN posted a gallery of a dozen or so laughing baby videos today; check it out below.

You know you want to.

I'd seen a couple of them before, and this one is hands-down my favorite:



Never fails to crack me up.

Men in Trees

Callie loves to bark at everything that moves. Children exiting school buses, construction workers, men, women, dogs, cats, squirrels...nothing escapes her notice. I've tried to break her of this bad habit to no avail, and have finally just learned to accept it. Since we've been in the house, she's gotten even worse (more windows! more street traffic!), and it's a bit exasperating. Until yesterday.

I was talking on the phone with my dad and decided to run out and grab the mail. As usual, Callie darted out as soon as the door opened. Normally, this is fine - she stays in the yard and comes back in once I call her. But this time, a man was passing by on the sidewalk, and Callie, startled, immediately ran toward him, barking hysterically. Now, I can understand feeling a bit panicked if a strange dog is hurtling toward you with apparent menace (even if that dog weighs all of 25 pounds). I tried to reassure the man that Callie doesn't bite, that she just sounds mean, she's really a very sweet dog...but it was too late. The man had already panicked. And jumped into our tree.

Jumped INTO OUR TREE. Not only that, but was trying to claw his way up. While shaking a stick at my dog. I don't know how I held it together long enough to get Callie into the house, but as soon as I did, I laughed until I cried. Here's a crude representation of the event (ignore the pathetic attempt at drawing in Word):


Oh, I will cherish these memories forever.

HOUSE!! (and some funnies, too)

The shitstorm of last week has finally passed - hallelujah! I'm thrilled to bits at the moment, actually. The weather is gorgeous, I've moved a ton of stuff into the new HOUSE!!, Jay and I cooked our first meal there last night, the animals seem to be comfortable, and I'm completely smitten with this whole thing. I even love my sore calves, which, frankly, needed the workout. Oh, and I'm going to buy an elliptical machine for our workout room, which we've already outfitted with a few free weights and a yoga mat. I love life right now.

Here are two videos that got me through a rough day last week. Laughter really does help you put things into perspective, you know?

Week from hell, part II

It figures that a few hours after writing about my week from hell, the universe would reward me with fresh hell. This story is unbelievable. Even I still can't believe it. Here's how it goes:

After a long, difficult day at work, I arrive home, trudge up the stairs, turn my key in the lock, and...nothing. Door won't budge. I try it again, and again. No dice. Like the door's been deadbolted from the inside. I try the lock another 5 times, just in case I was hallucinating the first few times. That's when I start to laugh. Of course. Of course this is happening to me.

The apartment office doesn't give a shit about me. That's evident right off the bat, since they don't even ask my name, just my apartment number, and refer to me, impatiently, as "that lady" when talking amongst themselves. They send a maintenance guy over, then lock up behind me as I leave. They want to get home, relax. So do I. The maintenance guy arrives at my door a few minutes later with a tiny belt-pack of basic tools, probably thinking I'm just retarded and can't unlock my own door without assistance. He tries the key a few times, too. Then he starts trying to pry the deadbolt out of the lock, using screwdrivers and the like. I'm doomed.

I'm starting to despair at this point, not to mention trying desperately not to lose my shit and cry all over the place. Hector, the maintenance guy who clearly doesn't want to be here, is shushing my dog, who is practically hyperventilating on the inside. It's the panic bark; I've only heard it a couple of times, and it makes me want to cry even more. She's losing her shit, clearly. It's not helping the situation. 30 minutes pass.

I suggest trying to get in through the balcony, and Hector laughs at me, then tries to explain, half in Spanish, why that won't work. I wish I'd retained more of my high school Spanish.

Hector disappears for 5 minutes, then returns with a crowbar and some other tools. I start to think I might never get into my apartment. After all, if it were easy to break in with the deadbolt locked, what's the point of the damn thing? And now that I think about it, why isn't there an outside lock for this stupid thing? What if I deadbolted myself inside and then needed emergency medical attention? What would happen then, huh?

Hector is cursing and sweating, and I have no clue what's he trying to do. He notes my dog trying to claw through the door to get to me, and suggests that maybe she deadbolted the door. More on that later. The door has now been warped and gouged near the lock, but at least it appears to be budging a bit.

Success! After nearly an hour, Hector is able to pry my door open, and Callie has never been happier to see me. She's a nervous wreck, though, and a handful for the rest of the night. Both of us take a much-needed bathroom break.

Callie and I are finally able to relax. Once she's a bit calmer, I stand her up on her hind legs to see if she can even reach the deadbolt. She's too short, even on her tippy toes. The only way she could deadbolt the door would be to jump up and hit the lock with enough force and specificity to turn it ninety degrees to the right. I ask you, is that even possible? Doesn't that defy the laws of physics somehow? How can a short, 25-pound dog with no opposable thumbs lock a deadbolt? HOW? But then again...what else could have happened? I can't lock the deadbolt from the outside. No one appeared to have been in my apartment, because they would have had to escape through the balcony after deadbolting themselves in. The dog theory seems much more plausible.

Unless I have a poltergeist or something. With the ability to become corporeal and turn locks.

No Country for Milkshakes

I heart Bill Hader. But Fred Armisen really, really sucks.

Oh, you mean I shouldn't put my baby in a fish tank?

Need a laugh? Go here. You'll thank me.

WGA/AMPTP negotiations

I think this says it all: