Mentally Replaying: "Operation Peter Pan", Tori Amos


I've been gearing up to here the Terminator is my new governor for a while now, but some how it still caught me off guard this morning. I woke up not ready for morning, in the midst of dreaming of slapstick comedy and WW2 going on in my great aunt's living room in Mexico. Stumbled through a lukewarm shower and frowned at my finger (more later). Bid farewell to Molasses and walked away thinking of calling my doctor and tonight's episode of West Wing. Thought about the work situation and how I now work for Yahoo and what my version of Angels in America would look.

When I turned on the car the radio blurted out the traffic news and I heaved a sigh when I noted that the 710 was going to suck.

Somehow it took a few seconds to register that Davis had lost the recall and Schwarzenneggar (sp?) won. When it did make it through it coalesced as a ball in the pit of my stomach.

The whole way to work (1.25 hours of traffic) I was angrily thinking Californians had finally lost their minds. Well ok, "finally" is not the right word. But I was definately wishing I had gone with my first impulse to pull the covers over my head this morning and call in sick.


People love to bitch about where they live, it honestly doesn't matter where that is. But it has always seemed to me that people bitch most if they live in the LA area of California. I have no idea why. It may have something to do with the crush of people, but then again if everyone who reportedly hated it so much would just leave then the population problems (and pollution and insurance and traffic) would also leave.


I love my city, my state and even my country. I just hate they way things are being run, as if it is the intention of government officials to make my home the butt of every political joke.

But by the time I got to work I was such a seething mass of irritation for the people of this beautiful state I was wishing everyone death. To try to get into a more professional mindset I was desperate for some perspective and went and looked on some local discussion boards.

No one has any guesses at actual turnout numbers, we only know it was "higher than usual." Voter apathy typically has this state by the throat, but the celebrity and the sheer weirdness might have contributed to the lines at the polling places. I've never waited in line to cast a vote before, so that alone is history worth noting.

There's still bits I don't get: if you're annoyed with Davis that's one thing, but why vote for Schwarzenneggar? Not only does he not know the first thing about administering, he's bringing back Pete Wilson. Pete Wilson! for god's sakes! You remember him! He lubed up California and bent her over for the ass-ramming from the Texas power companies that Put Us In This Mess!!

Tell me you haven't forgotten, PLEASE?!

*takes a deep breath*

Ok, I wasn't supposed to rant.

I have a gentle lullaby (yes there are non-gentle lullabies, just ask Bad Religion), in my head. Tori Amos wrote it for her daughter and to remember the Cuban children who were airlifted to the U.S. during Operation Peter Pan. It's making me want to to cry and it's forcing me to keep in mind that no one knows what is going to happen.

We'll just have to see.

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If you didn't know, there's been a death. I've offered my sympathy, but I know that doesn't help particularly much. It's not making the vote feel trite to me. But it's helping with the perspective issues.


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In other news I did something to my finger. No idea what. One moment I was banging on my steering while stuck in traffic yesterday (while signing along to "Precious Things" and no, I wasn't being ironic), and the next moment my right index finger was hurting a little - throbbing like - and looked kinda swollen. Later on in the night it was bruised and still swollen but seemed to be going down.

I forgot about it till this morning when I got up and happened to spy it. The first knuckle on the inside is heavily swollen and purpleish. It's really hard to bend and kinda bugs me as I'm typing and using my mouse. It doesn't hurt bad but it is annoying. The doctor hasn't called me back, but I'm trying to make an emergency arrangement of some kind (otherwise I'd have to wait until Friday). I'm definately not going rock climbing till it's better. Which sucks.

Oh well.




(Note to Kenny, you might not be able to notice from where you are, but I'm smiling at you, tweaking your nose and giving you big, mighty hugs.)