The only part I dislike about living such a busy life is not having the time to clean my house. I refuse to hire someone else to do it, either, because they just won’t do it … well, right.

My condition, which is a bit obsessive-compulsive disorder and a bit perfectionism, is a direct result of watching my mother clean as I was growing up. I learned the good lessons of course, like how doing a job right the first time is more efficient than having to repeat it. Unfortunately, I also internalized the “cleaning toot,” as she used to call it; that is, once I’ve started, I can’t stop until the whole house is done.

What this means is if I don’t have the time to do the entire house, I just let it rot. It also means that when a special occasion arises - our Halloween cocktail party last October, or when my mother-in-love comes for a visit - I need to call in help to get the house in order. Lucky for me, I have amazing friends who volunteer their time and effort to the cause, but the simple fact is I need to make a cleaning schedule for myself and stick to it. I mean, it’s not that I don’t love spending time with my friends, but I think we’d all be a lot happier if our time were spent at happy hour or a hockey game rather than cleaning toilets and sweeping floors. So, henceforth:

Monday - living/dining room
Tuesday - kitchen
Wednesday - bedrooms
Thursday - library/my office
Friday - one of the three bathrooms

You’ve probably noticed laundry isn’t on the list. This is because the luckiest moment of my life was meeting a man who does his own laundry. Yeah, go ahead and picture it … it’s kind of like porn for women, am I right?

He even picks up his own underwear.

MISSION: The Coffee Party Movement gives voice to Americans who want to see cooperation in government. We recognize that the federal government is not the enemy of the people, but the expression of our collective will, and that we must participate in the democratic process in order to address the challenges that we face as Americans. As voters and grassroots volunteers, we will support leaders who work toward positive solutions, and hold accountable those who obstruct them.

My love and I were just talking about the “hold accountable” part of this last night. We wondered why no one had yet built a website to tell the American people who, exactly, are the obstructionists on the Hill … not just about health care, but on every bill or vote.

Well, let’s see if the Coffee Party can live up to at least that aspect of their mission. Here’s the introductory message from the founder of the movement:

Democracy + the Interwebz = Love

Urban Dictionary defines it thus:

The practice of distracting others in a manner assuring that neither party gets any work done.

This is what I believe the Democrats and Republicans are doing with President Obama today in Washington. Six hours of televised “You’re wrong!” “No we’re not!” “The people want health care!” “No they don’t!” isn’t what we, the American people, want to hear.

We want a resolution. Whether that means we get health care or not, what we’re tired of is the sniping, contradictions, and arguing. It’s like listening to two five year olds disagree: There’s no solving the problem, just a lot of name-calling, yelling, and eventually slapping each other silly. If you doubt this at all, please watch the first section of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart from last night and try, as I did, NOT to throw something at your computer screen.

Meanwhile, sick people who are waiting on our government to help them will die. Those who actually got medical care and have racked up the subsequent (and inevitable) bills will lose their homes. Businesses will lay off more workers, or go out of business altogether, because of rising health care costs.

We are still suffering. YOU ARE STILL ARGUING.

Just. Stop. It.

Objectivity is the discipline of the wise.

Thank you for putting it into words, RR.

This is a circa 1984 PSA. It was probably borne of the hysteria of the McMartin pre-school case and it is probably not safe for work, but it IS simultaneously hilarious AND creepy.

I changed my mind: It’s just plain creepy.

Watch it or I’ll run over your knees with my bike.

You know that sickening feeling of inadequacy and over-exposure you feel when you look upon your own empurpled prose? Relax into the awareness that this ghastly sensation will never, ever leave you, no matter how successful and publicly lauded you become. It is intrinsic to the real business of writing and should be cherished. ~ Will Self

This applies to my morning nearly perfectly, as I was wondering why I’ve not yet started on the many writing projects floating around in my head, much less sent the finished pieces out into the world.

I just had a lovely idea, though: One night per week at a local coffee haven or bar - preferably one with wi-fi - a group of us should meet, sit, and write. No sharing unless we want to, just a set time to DO IT.

An old friend of mine (”old” here meaning he’s known me since the early 90s) already does one in Albuquerque and I don’t see why it wouldn’t work here … so details via Facebook soon.

Let’s DO this.

I wish I’d seen this sooner - say, during the debate over the anti-choice ad during the Super Bowl - but better late than never.

Every woman should be the master of her own body, psyche, and soul. These men are heroes, in my opinion.

Focus, indeed.

I have weakest head cold I think I’ve ever had in my life. Without regular doses of Advil, one side of my nose gets nearly completely plugged up. I’ve also got a tiny bit of the wooziness associated with having full sinuses, but that’s it. In fact, I feel good enough to go to the gym and get our Costco shopping done. This is mostly due to the above-mentioned Advil, as well as the sinus irrigation system we use to kill the viruses that cause head colds.

Oh, and ephedra.

Ephedra, the wonder drug for stuffy sinuses, may still be found in over-the-counter decongestants, just not in the mass quantity in which it used to be available. When our government, in its infinite wisdom, opted to make it illegal - though you’d be hard-pressed to find more than 5 deaths per year they could directly attribute to ephedra use - they ensured that the law would only be for those who sell it. That means you can have as much ephedra in your house as you like, as long as you bought it before the selling of same in these here United States became a crime.

So my love and I, in our infinite wisdom, stocked up. We hit drug stores and truck stops for months before the ban went into effect and now have enough to keep head colds at bay until we’re 80. (And no, you can’t have any. That would be distribution of an illegal substance and there are two things no one is worth: Death or jail.)

Now Senator McCain, whom I used to admire for being a small government (read: keep spending low) Republican, has introduced a bill to the Congress that would put new rules on - and maybe even outright ban - supplements. You know, like the black cohosh, sam-E, or 5-htp we take as part of our diet here.

He’s calling it the Dietary Safety Supplement Act of 2010 (pdf) , but that’s political jargon for “Oh, dear, look at all the money being made in this pretty much unregulated area … wouldn’t it be nice if the phramaceutical companies could get in on that?”

I know ephedra works. I know the other vitamins and supplements I take work for me as well, and I’m getting a little ticked off that an industry which harms none - how many deaths have you read about which may be blamed on milk thistle or saw palmetto? - may suffer the same fate as ephedra.

There’s a lot of online sites which are pissed off about this bill. Here’s one that explains why it should fail, and here’s another that includes a way to write to your Senators to call shenanigans. There’s even a Facebook group that has 5,000+ members and counting.

I’m tired of my government trying to save me from things which don’t cause actual harm. The supplements we take here at home help us live healthier, happier, longer lives.

And the longer we live the more taxes we pay, Mr. McCain.

Back away from the acidophilus.

“Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow you may be in Utah.” I have shot glasses that have that very saying on them, purchased at a truck stop in Richfield, UT on my way to (or was it from?) Las Vegas last year.

Looks like I may be driving that way again in June - let me know if you want a shot glass - but this time heading in to Salt Lake City. The annual Dark Arts weekend takes place then and this year will be the first time my love has accompanied me to the event. I am very much looking forward to it, but not just for the great music, vendor booths, and generally hanging out with a giant goth crowd; rather, it will be the first time my partner-in-crime will get to meet one of my oldest and dearest friends.

My first true love, in fact. *cue romantic music and women’s sighs*

I was a sophomore in high school, in French class to be exact, and my back itched right where I couldn’t reach it. I tried and wiggled in my seat for a moment, when suddenly the guy who sat behind me reached up and scratched the spot for me. I turned and thanked him, he said “My pleasure,” and I wish I could say the rest was history … but it gets a LOT more complicated and soap opera-ish after that.

We spent years - literally years - in which I repeatedly ripped his still-beating heart from his chest and stomped on it. I even had an airline ticket to move to Alaska - Alaska, people! - to be with him and then I broke up with him via phone at my new boyfriend’s house.

Yeah, it was like that.

Afterward, I was sure I’d never hear from him again, but I thought about him often and wondered where his life had taken him. A decade later, in the mid-1990s (pre-Internet), I discovered his mother’s number was unlisted, and I hadn’t a clue where to start looking for him. Lucky for me, his capability to forgive went above and beyond the awfulness of the younger me, and he called my parents to get my number.

That surprise phone call he made to me, years after I’d done what I’d done, is still one of my favorite memories to this day. We spent hours on the phone catching up on each others lives and we haven’t lost touch since. Obviously, we’d both grown up a lot in the intervening time - I was on my third marriage by then, he still on his first (and still with her now), we were both making our way through school and trying to decide what we wanted to be. I finally had the chance to apologize, but more than that, I had the opportunity to re-connect with a person who is amazing, beautiful, full of love, and understands parts of me that few do.

There is that old saying that a true friend is one who knows everything there is to know about you and still loves you anyway. I have been very fortunate to have a few of those people in my life, but there is something very different and much more special between he and I. Maybe it’s because I put him through hell; maybe it’s because we share a childhood history which runs parallel in many ways; maybe it’s the purest platonic love either of us has ever experienced.

Whatever it is, I can’t wait for The Maestro to meet him.

Love Always,
Mish

Michael Shermer will be in Denver tomorrow night to talk about his book, Why Darwin Matters: The Case Against Intelligent Design.

Who is that? Oh, I’m so glad you asked!

Dr. Michael Shermer is the Founding Publisher of Skeptic magazine, the Executive Director of the Skeptics Society, a monthly columnist for Scientific American, the host of the Skeptics Distinguished Science Lecture Series at Caltech, and Adjunct Professor of Economics at Claremont Graduate University.

Info:
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
6:45pm - 8:15pm
Metro State College of Denver
Tivoli Building, Rooms 440/540
900 Auraria Parkway
Denver, CO

This event is supported by the Center for Inquiry and little old me.

Money? Meet mouth. Mouth, this is money.