In support of free sterilization

Things you need a license and/or parental consent for:
Driving a car
Driving a truck, motorcycle, etc.
Getting married
Getting a tattoo (before 18)
Getting your ears pierced (before 18)
Cutting hair professionally
Giving massages
Practicing medicine of any kind
Adding on to your house
Building a wall
Putting in a pool
Going on a field trip (before 18)
Selling liquor
Reproducing lyrics
Flying a plane
Being a dog
Owning a firearm
Shooting any animal
Catching a fish

Things you don't need a license or parental consent for:
Having a baby
Getting an abortion

Doesn't it seem a little strange to you? My husband can't even catch a goldfish at the city lake without being fined, but I could kill an unborn child with a walk-in appointment at a clinic. Or I could be a crack-head, mentally unstable, abusive person and be allowed to give birth to a child or multiple children that I would never take care of properly.

Shouldn't we have to get a license to reproduce? Shouldn't there be requirements, like being drug free and having a secure living situation and having the ability to make sound decisions and being able to use logic? I'm not talking about you need to be smart or good looking or rich or anything like that, I'm talking about your ability to love and care for and protect a child. I'm so tired of hearing the stories of people abusing their children to the point of death, of women selling their babies, of druggies who keep getting pregnant and have more and more children that they pawn off to whoever. My parents have a neighbor whose daughter is my age, and she now has three children who are all being taken care of by different people. She's not taking care of any of them, and it's probably better that way. But still. She's always on drugs, and it's a true miracle that the worst problem any of the kids has is ADD. She doesn't even know who the fathers of the younger two are. Has she heard of birth control?

So here's my thought, and I have no idea what the rules should be, but I think that the state should offer free sterilization, and enforce it in some cases. I know that enforcing it becomes a morality issue, but isn't letting repeat offenders continue to reproduce also a morality issue? Where do we draw the line? And what do we do with all of these poor, unwanted children?

Every once in a while I hear something that absolutely breaks my heart. Yesterday I heard a story about a woman in Riverside who beat her baby so badly that the paramedics who transported him to the hospital said they'd never seen such a severe instance of child abuse in all of their combined 32 years on the job. The baby was not expected to survive. This is the extent of the depravity of humans. I look at Judah, and yes, I get angry with him sometimes. But even when I'm angry and he's upset he looks at me so helplessly, and reaches out to me so trustingly, relying on me to offer comfort and to fix whatever's wrong, and I know that I could never betray that trust and that I would do anything, including dying, to protect him. How can you know that you are your baby's only hope, and then turn against him and totally destroy him? I don't understand at all.


Just the basics

A is for age:
29. For a few more weeks. And then goodbye to my 20s forever. :(

B is for beer of choice:
Not a big beer drinker, but when I have one it's usually a Guiness.

C is for career:
Homemaker. Hardest job I've ever had, harder than dealing with hormonal pregnant women buying maternity clothes, harder than dealing with snooty brokers, harder even than serving frozen yogurt.

D is for your dog's name:
No dogs, one cat named Payasa. We're talking about getting two chihuahuas and naming them Garbanzo and Cacahuete.

E is for essential item you use everyday:
Bubble bath.

F is for favorite song at the moment:
Carolyn's Fingers by the Cocteau Twins.

G is for favorite sport:
Not sure why this is under G.... but it's baseball. Or gymnastics.

H is for Home town:
Currently Yorba Linda, but I grew up in La Habra. But home is where the heart is, right? That would be London.

I is for instruments you play:
Piano, a little bit.

J is for favorite juice:
Cranberry or grape.

K is for whose butt you'd like to kick:
Who, me? I'm a nice girl. But I'd put that aside if I ever met Tom Cruise.

L is for last hug:
Judah, right before I put him to bed just now.

M is for marriage:
Very happily for almost four years now to my best friend.

N is for name of your last ex:

O is for overnight hospital stays:
When I was born, and when I gave birth.

P is for phobias:
Small spaces and the undersides of rocks.

Q is for quotation:
Too many to list here.

R is for Biggest Regret:
A lot of things I did in college. At least I've learned from my mistakes.

S is for status:
Taken and happy.

T is for time you woke up:
7:30, just like Judah.

U is for underwear:
My last clean pair. Guess it's laundry night...

V is for vegetable you love:
Asparagus and cauliflower.

W is for worst habit:
Leaving my clothes on the bathroom floor, sometimes for days.

X is for x-rays you've had:
Teeth. And Nathan took an x-ray of my elbow that I thought I broke in the mosh pit at a Prayer Chain concert when I was 16. Turns out it's not broken. So what is that thing that floats around in there?

Y is for yummy food you make:
I make some mean spaghetti sauce, and pretty good pumpkin bread.

Z is for zodiac sign:
Gemini, and year of the dragon. But I think it's funny, because if you actually read the "characteristics" of the different signs you'll find that they all fit you, in some aspect. And yet some people plan their lives by this...


Quote of the day

"I would be the most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves."
~Anna Quindlen

From our correspondent

I got this in an email from Dave the other day and thought it was entertaining. As you can see, he's as much of a music freak as I am. And my first contributor! He wrote this about the annual golf trip he takes with some friends from church. Enjoy!

Today, in honor of Bono’s 46th birthday, stop and think for a moment about what a dark place the world would be if U2 never existed. Also, read this narrative about the upcoming trip and see how many titles of U2 songs you can pick out.

Some Days are Better than Others, and this year, May 31 will be one of those days. That evening, we will not Stay in our own houses, but will head away from the Ocean like The Wanderer and spend the night In God’s Country. It’ll be A Sort of Homecoming when we Exit the real world and get to the land of Fire in the Heartland of golf in America.

We’ll see at least Three Sunrises while we’re there, but the first One will be the toughest, when I’ll have to keep yelling Wake Up Dead Man to get Deboe away from his teddy bear and his bed. We’ll Rejoice once he’s up, and With a Shout, we’ll head to the Dunes course La Quinta for the first round. I Will Follow Brian’s van. Just don’t go for the pin on 17 if it’s in the Red Light position on the left side of the green by the Endless Deep, or you’ll come in with a Bad score since the ball will be Gone.

Thursday afternoon will be the highlight of the trip: the Mountain Course in the evening. For those of you there for The First Time like Strangers in a Strange Land, The Sweetest Thing will be the back nine in the Twilight. We’ll be in amongst the Shadows and Tall Trees, although I’m sure some of us will wonder at that point, Where Did It All Go Wrong. But there’s always Tomorrow.

Friday will be a great day. I’m already saying Hallelujah since we’re playing Shadow Ridge, and Scott might pay, unless he beats Deboe for all the Silver and Gold. By this day, Bredow will be Numb from Staring at the Sun and getting turned Scarlet by the Ultraviolet rays. Sandoval will be as dark as MLK. When I tell Brian after the round that I repeated my best round ever and shot 74 again, he’ll put his head down and ask, “Is That All? I played like The Fool, and I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For at the top of my backswing. My Pride got the best of me when I accepted the $100 Nassau. I was Out of Control on number 17 and, trying to stay out of the water on the right, I pulled a Lemon into the room of the blond Party Girl we saw last year.”

Saturday we go Helter Skelter all over the desert from Indian Springs to Desert Willow. At Willow, on the One Tree Hill by the 18th green, we’ll revisit the site of the Surrender by Deboe and Angelo to Sandoval and Hernandez.

Then, unfortunately, we’ll hit the last day of the trip. Last year, it was Sunday, Bloody Sunday at Desert Falls, but we have no Desire to see that course again. So Sandoval, If You Wear That Velvet Dress tied up in a knot again and start Dancing Barefoot like a Mexican Acrobat, it’s only because you want to. The same marshal won’t be working at Shadow Hills this year. After the round, we’ll reminisce about the Mysterious Ways of the Palm Springs Golf Trip and the great time we had in 2006. Don’t worry though, it’ll seem like only Seconds until June of 2007 will be here.


This is totally turning into a music blog

I promised you guys I wouldn't turn this into a blog all about Judah. But I never promised you anything about music. It's such a big part of my life, and I'm pretty much always either listening or singing. I'm that person that can come up with a song about just about anything. So I saw this post that Heather at dooce wrote, and I thought it was a pretty good idea. She set her iPod to shuffle and then listed off the first ten songs it came up with, with comments. So I'm gonna copy her. Except that I'm using iTunes, because my iPod bit it on Sunday night (RIP iPod, 2003-2006). This is potentially embarrassing, because there's a lot of stuff in my library that I know nothing about, either because it's Nathan's or it's from a CD that I bought for one song only. So here goes.

1. Hallelujah Here She Comes - U2: One of those songs I'm really neutral about. It's okay, not one of U2's best. But not even close to being one of their worst.

2. Laredo - The Smothers Brother: I was a Smothers Brothers addict by the age of 6. They're hysterical. I used to play their records on my little record player and really only get half the jokes. They're way funnier now. "If you get an outfit you can be a cowboy too."

3. Omaha - Counting Crows: Good song, probably my second or third favorite on the album. After Anna Begins and Raining in Baltimore.

4. Amongst the Ruins - Delerium: A song I don't know! But Delerium's pretty good, so I'll have to actually listen to the whole album someday...

5. 1963 ('95) - New Order: New Order is one of those groups where I can't say I have a favorite song, but if I could, it might be this one. Got it? I love it. It reminds me of highschool and riding to football games with Gina.

6. Reincarnation Song - Toad the Wet Sprocket: I hate this song. I've never learned the words, even, because it's so BORING. And Glen Phillips sounds like Cartman from Southpark on this track.

7. King's Cross - Pet Shop Boys: One of the few songs on the Actually album that I like. Reminds me of hanging out at Nate and Jon's place at Westpark. I don't think I ever heard it there, but it would've fit. And it feels like those nights.

8. Perfect Blue Buildings - Counting Crows: Again, I'm neither here nor there on this one. It's okay. The line "I wanna get me a little oblivion" is pretty cool.

9. It's a Maze - from the Secret Garden soundtrack: Okay, this should have made my Embrace the Lame list, maybe. I have the whole soundtrack. And I listened to it Sunday and cried because it's such a good story. I saw the play once, it was one of the saddest dates of my life. Just another BAB fiasco, I'm afraid.

10. Fascination Street - The Cure: You knew they'd show up somewhere, right? This song is so perfect and creepy and dark and desperate. Perfect for midnight driving in the city.


I wrote this myself!

With the help of Mad Libs, of course.

My Love

Your skin glows like the Starfruit,
blossoms dreamily
as the bird of paradise
in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows
your accordian voice
and leaps like a lemur
at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in
on a great coot wing.
I am comforted by your sock
that I carry into the twilight of skybeams
and hold next to my ear.
I am filled with hope
that I may dry your tears of drano.
As my toe falls from my mitten,
it reminds me of your garden.
In the quiet,
I listen for the last crash of the day.
My heated elbow leaps to my jeans.
I wait in the moonlight
for your secret bowl
so that we may shout as one,
elbow to elbow,
in search of the magnificient lime green
and mystical tree of love.

To create your own love poem, go here!


Joy! Or, Why the Resale Value of My First Car Was Slightly Lower Than it Could Have Been

I'm getting together with Joy tonight. I can't tell you how happy this makes me. Joy is one of my oldest friends. We met our freshman year of highschool and became almost inseparable. We went through all of our bad teenage phases together (her: "My eyeshadow always matches my shirt! Red, green, purple..." Me: "Mine too! Because it's always black."). I've seen her go from thick glasses and poodle-like bangs to being the most desired girl at the Cowboy Boogie to being an awesome wife and woman-of-all-trades. She currently lives on 3.5 acres of land in Lucerne and owns (at last count) 3 horses, a goat, a pig, two dogs, and 8 chickens. And a lot of Joshua trees. Which she drives copper nails into in the dead of night. But you didn't read that here.

Joy is responsible for many of my best memories and my worst habits, like the whole eating the fortune cookie before reading the fortune thing, and also (as noted by Barbara in the previous comments) the tying the straw paper in a knot and pulling to see if the knot will hold or come out when the straw paper breaks thing. If it comes out, the person you're thinking of is thinking of you, if it doesn't they're not. This tradition also includes blowing on the knot as you pull, but I've ditched that part of it. It's way too obvious in restaurants and makes my OCD about straw papers really noticable. Joy also taught me to pick up my feet off the floor and make a wish when I drive over railroad tracks. Thanks a lot, Joy. You've turned me into a complete freak and a reckless driver.

We went to our first Renaissance Faire together and to many in the following years, usually dressing up as peasant girls. We were water girls for the football team and stat girls for the basketball team. We heckled the cheerleaders and made fun of the homecoming courts. We embarrassed each other with boys (the sentence "Hey, my friend likes your necklace!" still makes me cringe). We roamed around London together and were mutually responsible for forcing our friend Amber to sleep on the doorstep of our hotel for several freezing hours (we accidentally locked her out). Joy was a bridesmaid in my wedding (she wore a periwinkle blue spaghetti strap gown) and I was a bridesmaid in hers (I wore blue jeans and a white button up shirt and boots, the only bridesmaid outfit I will actually wear again). We're really really different, but we get along great. We managed to share a house for six whole months and not kill each other, and we spent a whole evening painting blue flowers on the walls of the kitchen in our house.

And then there was the business of the roof of my first car. Joy said, "Whenever you run a yellow or red light you have to kiss your finger tip and touch the ceiling so that the cops won't give you a ticket." Joy said it, and it was so. We all began the tradition immediately. The ceiling of my car was white. We were highschoolers. I was prone to running yellows and occasionally reds so badly that we didn't kiss just one finger, but all ten. And in this way, the ceiling of my car became covered with red (Joy's), pink (Caron's), berry (Elisa's), and burgundy (mine) fingerprints, like little constellations. We thought it was cute. It wasn't so cute when I went to sell the car and they wouldn't come off.