Pilgrim crawling into the fireplace. LMA says, "When he crawls into the
fireplace, we'll put a fire in there and he'll get all fired up."
Yes. Yes he will.
Yesterday's news and not terribly current, but just wanted to keep everyone up to date.
I need to figure out a way to make sure that more Dems can vote on this. I need to be able to help mobilize this crusade against those who would discriminate.
I tired of this debate, so much. I just don't understand how people can hate another group of people with such flip. Almost as if they don't think anything's wrong with it. Almost as if they think they are better, somehow, then those they seek to diminish. I think it's funny that on the same page, there is a poll asking if you think there is a quality of life disparity for African Americans in Austin.
Yes. I do. I think if you aren't white, you're seen as second class. I'd like to add to it white and straight and Christian. Now, you have to be all three, if you're white and Jewish and straight, you're out. If you're Latino and straight and Christian, you're out. If you're white and straight and Pagan, you're out. It's the Trifecta of Prejudice, the Holy Trinity of Intolerance, the Triumvirate of Bigotry.
The thing that really irks me about the whole debate is that there are so many other things wrong that aren't being fixed because of this. If people could just ignore things like religion and sexual preference and color and age and gender and maybe focus on things like homelessness and unemployment and child abuse and hunger, and I hate to sound like a 1970's soda commercial, but the world would be a better place, for you and me. Just wait and see.
Seriously. Imagine the political power we could put behind tax reform, law enforcement, emergency management, soup kitchens, homeless shelters, employment agencies, women's and children's shelters if we just stopped thinking of our fellow man as a statistic. Are you human? Yeah. That's all we should have to know. If you can do a job, if you have a hobby, if you like a music or a show, if you can lift a baby, if you can make Macaroni and Cheese, if you cry and sleep and like sunshine but also rain, there's no other point about you that would make a different to whether I like you or dislike you. I don't dislike people because they're black or female or Baptist or straight or Mexican or tall or fat or cross-eyed. I dislike people because they're mean, close-minded, aggrandizing, delusional, self-righteous assholes. There should be no other reason to hate people other than how they act.
I can tell you that the lesbians who are going to have their foster children taken away are not any of those things. They are people and shit like this just hurts people. So if you feel like hurting people rather than better spending your time being helpful, by all means, make sure the fags can't raise abused and neglected children.
In case the ever growing masses are not yet aware, I've added a few links to the page in the hopes of getting readership to friends and family. However, in all honesty, the links go to places that get page hits ranging in the thousands to millions, so I doubt my minor fiefdom driven traffic will impact their counts by much.
I'm also testing something that just came about while browsing the list of Blogger options. I've always wanted to participate in whatever RSS or XML news feeds are, and I feel like a grandpa saying this (listen up dad) but I don't understand them. I downloaded Pluck to read feeds, but I couldn't tell you what I'd be reading. The most online time I have is at work, and I should be working, not reading blog updates and quirky news articles. But it doesn't seem to work here, and at home it might be kind of a waste of a download as the time I'm on the home machine is spent in the binary bossom of Mistress Photoshop.
However, I did find the email update option. Now I can write from any email client I want. It's funny, I think this is really cool. Writing from an email instead of the dashboard update page. I don't know why. It doesn't take any longer. For people who don't do this often, imagine having a microwave in your bedroom. Now, it might seem cool at first. You can bring your favorite frozen pizza to bed and watch some TV. But you haven't sped up the cooking time. You walk the same distance to get the pizza, then go back to the room. The pizza tastes the same. Ah, but you say, no one has a microwave in their bedroom.
And that's exactly why I'm writing this entry from my email. Because I can.
(Incidentally, what may not work and what I'm used to doing is hand typing all the htm codes, so if you see some odd symbols and no fun links I'll have to go back out to the kitchen and nuke my pizza in there.)
Mr. Pilgrim is THIS close to walking. I mean it. Friday he took what has quantitatively become his first steps. He's taken a few tottering wobbles in the past couple weeks, but this was the first time he had a desire to get somewhere and his chubby little legs propelled him. Both Mrs. A and I were on hand, as well as the babysitter and Lil Miss Austin. Mrs. A cried and was really glad she was here for it.
Mrs. A and I were going through baby clothes (because the little monster is already wearing 18 month old clothes) and bagging up anything marked 6-9 or even some 6-12. She held on to one piece and said, "This is my Pilgrim. This is how I remember him." The depression she had really blanked out the first half year or more of his life, a life spent almost entirely with his mom. Now, I don't remember much about LMA at that age and even memories of this guy are fading, but Mrs. A I don't think, and she has said as much, remembers much of anything. It was really hard to listen to her say that and it made me wish he'd stay this age just a little longer.
But no, he wants to talk now. He really hasn't got the conscious Mama or Dada just yet, but if you say, "Say Mama" his mouth will move. He can also understand, "Where's my nose." and he points to your nose. He also bonks and gives you kisses. Sounds cute until you get one. Baby kisses are like kisses from a 3 foot bass. There's more cleaning up afterwards than expected. We're hoping to get a recording of him babbling because there's a certain timber and phonetics in a one year old babble that is hard to reproduce. If I were to type it, it'd look like...
bwerta bwerta bwerta bwerta...
And so on. He just grabs an object and just starts reading it the riot act, man. Whatever this plastic Sesame Street character did before he got a hold of it, it will not do again in its lifetime. He's also not happy with the small broom and the diaper bag.