But Call Me Betsy

Not sure I like it as much as my first one--it's not quite as intuitive. But anyway, here are my first photos. Of course, they are of cats.

I've seen a couple of bad parenting examples while waiting for the subway lately. Both involving mothers and daughters. Last night, I heard a mom admonishing her daughter (who was around 8 or so) in this low, hateful voice. I couldn't hear everything she was saying, just a few sentences here and there like "you just wait until we get home...You can make that decision when you have a job of your own, but I am the boss now..Sick of your whining...Don't you dare speak to me..." It wasn't so much what she was saying, but the voice she used, this furious quiet voice. I had to walk to the other side of the platform to get away from it. Then there's this mother daughter team I see some mornings at my stop--the little girl is also about 8 and she's really thin and pale and has long blond hair with bangs. She looks kind of sickly, but she's lively. Today, she was wearing a man's tie, Annie Hall style. The mom isn't mean or nasty at all. She listens ...

You can make your very own Obamarama poster here . Below, please find the noble Ernesto, who was not actually very noble when he fell out of my bedroom closet last night at 2 a.m. (he occasionally goes in there to inspect the sheets and towels and almost always knocks something over). I am having a kind of weird week. Seems to be going extremely slowly and I don't feel like I'm getting anything done at all. I really wish I were a tidier person. My house is a mess--not in a way that's obvious. There's not piles of garbage on the floor or pillars of old newspapers or even clothes strewn about. My dishes are washed and my clothes are put away and my bed is usually made, but I don't clean. I don't dust, I don't mop the floors, I don't scrub down my fridge. I sometimes clean the tub is I know guests are coming for the weekend and I sometimes sweep the floors, but I still feel like a sloth. I was thinking the other day, What if I could have a maid. I honestly ...

Missed last week and so must work even harder to prove I am not a slacker and can, in fact, commit to watching one bad TV show a week. I'm not too worried about missing an episode--they'll surely give us a five minute run down of all of the pertinent happenings before beginning the show. In truth, each two hour episode could easily be shrunken to five minutes if you take out of the stupid commentary and long pauses for dramatic effect. My main question is whether Deeyawna will show up this time or if they're saving that for mid season ? Recap: " Previously , on the Daddy Bachelor...Handsome single dad without a shirt has come to LA for true love..." Cut to: Stephanie and little girl running together everywhere. That poor little girl. Jason without his shirt taking their clothes off for some kind of bodice fitting thing. Melissa admits that she had a breast reduction. Nikki says that she's a perfectionist. Jillian jumps on the bed with him. Megan wears an aqu...

The White House now has a blog that you can find here . I am certain it won't be as entertaining as blogs with cat photos, cat references, updates about babies, blogs pinpointing the pitfalls of celebrities, with photos of dogs and other cute fuzzy creatures, but still, it might have some substance. Here are some other things the new President has done in the last, oh, day and a half: 1. Started the process for closing Guantánamo Bay ; the place where GW and all his evildoers have been torturing people in "classified" ways without having to answer to anyone. 2. Issued a salary freeze for top staff (those making $100,000 or more a year) in the White House as a measure to illustrate that he won't ask the American people to do anything that he wouldn't expect from himself or his WH employees. 3. Has begun identifying ways to withdraw from Iraq and Afghanistan. 4. Put an end to gifts made by lobbyist and did some other stuff regarding lobbyists that I don't rea...

The title from one of Obama's book keeps circling around in my head: The Audacity of Hope . And then also I keep thinking about his inaugural speech yesterday and how he said that every person needs to be strong and stand up and be accountable. And the cynic in me responds, "What does that even mean? Give me some direct examples, please." But then the moo-moo side of me argues back (moo-moo = hippie/optimist/do gooder), "Maybe that means doing your part to conserve energy and to make more intelligent choices about spending. Like, maybe that means you should spend $50 at H&M every other week to buy shirts I don't need that fall apart by the end of the month. Maybe instead you should save your money to purchase a house or to pay off your bills." And maybe if everyone did the same thing, squashed their impulses for immediate gratification through consumerism, then it actually would make a difference (here's where the swelling sound of "Khumbya...

Someecards has these great electronic cards about the presidency. Here are a couple, and you can find many more online. And there's a really interesting and detailed article in the latest issue of Vanity Fair called "Farewell to All That: An Oral History of Bush White House" that you can read online here .

I just like the title for a blog post. I don't actually have any songs in mind. Though there is a line from (possibly?) a Tom Petty song: "the waiting is the hardest part." What song/singer is that? Or, "Stop, oh, yes, wait a minute, Mister Postman." Or "I'll be waiting around/watching you drown..." or some such nonsense. Had dinner last night at Farmacia and highly recommend it. It's owned or organized by the same peeps who run White Dog in West Philly. They bring around these little baskets filled with bread and offer them up to you. There was also a green apple as the centerpiece. At the end of the meal, I asked the waitress what the etiquette was for the apple. Were we meant to eat it? Had fifteen thousand people touched it before us and rubbed it all over their bodies. Well, yes, she said. Fifteen thousand people had already put their hands on it, but we were welcome to take it home, wash it thoroughly, and then eat it. I was a little di...

So, since my camera is broken, I decided to take a picture with my phone after my writing class last night. Here's how great those photos turn out: But really, it is an accurate representation of what the subway feels like around 8 p.m. after work. I thought of a good title for a short story/essay: "Dating Your Husband." It could start out like: "Your husband is always a gentleman. He insists on paying for dinner (in cash). He opens doors for me. In bed, he tries his best to make sure we both enjoy it. He never looks directly at the clock." Etc.

Speaking of reality shows, the one that comes on after The Bachelor is this reality show where the contestants all believe they are being judged by their outer beauty, but it turns out that they win or lose based on their behavior or inner beauty. From what little I've glimpsed so far, none will take the prize, as they all seem superficial and stupid. But the premise reminded me of how I feel most of the time; as if I were being filmed by some unseen camera and subsequently judged and evaluated by my actions. For instance, I have this thing where I'll go into a clothing store, and if I see a shirt that's half off the hanger, I fix it. Part of me just doesn't like it hanging there, but the other part wonders if maybe one of the sales clerks will notice and think I'm super nice and offer me a job. I really think this. I mean, it's not that I believe this will happen. I know it won't, but I often stand outside of myself and wonder how others view my actions. I...

I cannot believe this next episode is also two hours long. How are we to endure it? If you were to edit out all the recaps and the previews, I swear the show would go no longer than 15 minutes, including commercial breaks. This must be a huge money maker for whatever station it's on (I refuse to be their monkey and endorse the BBC). Opening shots: Jason in the shower, Jason jogging with his shirt off, Jason shucking corn in a thong, Jason doing a topless samba. Recaps of all the women he met and all the crazy weird stuff they did like making hot dogs! Jason keeps talking about how awesome it is to be surrounded by all these beautiful, amazing, single (and widowed) women with or without children, but all wanting a piece of his Ty. His son's name is "Ty" in case you have forgotten. TY! Or possibly it's "Tie." He's not yet spelled it out, so I'm not sure. 15 women left...I guess that means that he will have two giganto dates and maybe one or two one...

My digital camera is officially broken. So sad! I suppose I could run out and buy another one, but I'm trying to save $ and not spend it (never mind that I dropped $50at H&M this weekend b/c they had a buy one/get one free sale). But I do have just a few photos left-over that I never posted. Most were taken the week of Christmas or thereabouts. I like the balance and democracy of this photo. Who is most important: Santa, the Christmas tree, or the Snow Person? NO ONE. They are all equally meaningful or meaningless, depending on your point of view . Oh, okay, this is my tiny yet obnoxious Christmas tree. The lights were added willy-nilly by Luke when they were visiting. The tree is still up because I like how it looks, especially with the woman in the Lempicka picture peering at you from behind it. Sort of innocuous photo of Snow Person and star. I like how ornate and Victorian this window is. This photo shows a gigantic Santa about to leap to his death from a housing project...

The new piece in Maven is up, but I'm a little concerned because it now looks like it might be an online resource open only to members. Update again: No, I was wrong. It's open to everyone. Whoops. Thanks, Mr.D., for letting me know and hope you are enjoying your chai latte this very moment. Here's the link to "How to Become a Slut, Part II."

I love how Philadelphia magazine's fall issue included a section about the best places to snatch up a date, including the bookstore, the coffee shop, and the laundryomat. Shmitten Kitten's recent post offered similar advice (though somewhat tongue in cheek), but I have to say, none of these locations have ever worked for me. I went to the same coffee shop for six years when I lived in State College. Never once did a conversation spring up between me and a guy, unless it was, "Can you plug my computer in for me?" And never once did I witness the spontaneous conversation spark between any two other strangers. It doesn't happen often, because it's creepy. It's creepy to just start talking to a stranger for no reason. Okay, fine, you could say one or two innocuous things like, "I love hazelnuts." Or, "Drinking this much coffee really makes me have to pee." But then if you try to extend the conversation, it would seem odd and fake. "So...

Oh, okay, so there's a link to my newest article in Philadelphia Stories . It's called " "What I Learned in Workshop Hell," and might only be interesting to other writers. There should be one posted in Maven soon, but I guess the editor is having a little trouble keeping up with the content as the last issue went out Dec. 15. Here is a cute picture of me and my ho's when Jodie came to visit. Liz has pointed out that Jodie doesn't really look like that. She doesn't. I mean, this is a nice photo, but there's something in the way she's got her eye arranged that doesn't quite look right. I would be posting more photos (and do have some from that night that I can put up later), but my camera is busted. Some guy took a look at it for me and he said it needed a Flash card which doesn't make sense to me. It worked before, so why would it suddenly stop working? Nothing feel out of the camera, as far as I know. He said that the Flash cards are...

1. Not getting to pet the dog that I see approaching me on the sidewalk because the dog owner veers a different street. 2. The coffee lady filling my cup too full so there's not enough room for the proper amount of milk (even though on any other day, this would be a good thing. Not when I'm crabby though). 3. How windy and cold the wider, less populated streets of Philadelphia can be. For instance, 11th Street is fairly wide, and so this means there's less resistance to the wind. Today, I found myself internally debating with the building commissioners and asking them why they didn't build MORE buildings so that it wouldn't be so damn windy. 4. My itchy scarf. 5. Somewhat misleading publicity. There's a You Tube video I saw recently that is just a montage of 97 reasons to come to Philadelphia. It has this guy in front of all the cool things like these murals and the clothespin and the love statute and Ben Franklin and the Italian Market. I started thinking about...

I luckily had an email exchange with Jess today and she reminded me that The Bachelor , Season IIVX is premiering tonight, in mere seconds, actually. We will join our old favorite Seattle dad, Jason, as he searches for true love and a TV fiance from among 25 beautiful bimbos who are all after some air time and his three year old son, Ty. If you'll remember, of the two bachelors at the end of the show, I was totally convinced that Jason would win and not that other surfer who never stopped saying "dude" and asking for people to give him " knucks ." Predictions for this episode: (1). We will hear the name "Ty" approximately 23 times; (2). ditto the word "connection;" (3). Every other shot of Jason will show either his engorged nipples or his pecs or both. I am starting to recall that I thought this guy was too corny and sort of a wimp. (Minute 5: number of times he's said his son's name = 14). Now he's shirtless, has hard nipples...