stay the execution of 2010

My friends,

It has recently come to our attention that the Year commonly known as 2010 is about to expire. This grieves us mightily since, as you are well aware if you have kept abreast of our efforts, we have been diligently lobbying Time to abolish its artificial and tyrannical construct The Calendar, a monstrous creation which, in addition to relying on arbitrary and senseless groups of numbers (7? 12? Outrageous!) for its foundational structure, unnecessarily and cruelly privileges certain categories (Days and Months) by allowing them to recur with great frequency while simultaneously discriminating in the most blatant and baseless fashion against others. I refer, of course, to Years, which are allowed to appear but once and then fade away, seemingly forever.

We have nothing but scorn for the defense offered by Calendarials: namely that, by virtue of the greater length of its existence, the Year is not suffering unfair treatment. That other categories, including such deeply unpopular representatives as the dreaded Monday, are granted immortal recurrence while Years are banished to the annals of memory is an untenable situation, and one which has no place in a free society.

Sisters and brothers! We ask that you join us in decrying the foul massacre of 2010, a noble Year that, while certainly in possession of many flaws could, we firmly believe, progress and improve – given Time! Lend your voice to the growing chorus and sing out against that heartless despot, The Calendar! Let us abolish this ridiculous notion that we must destroy the Past in order to create the Future, and let us instead float together in harmonious accord in a boundless Present!

As members of the Society for the Abolishment of Chronological Hierarchy, we work towards a more fair and equitable system of Time, with the ultimate goal of liberating humanity and the universe from the cruel shackles of clocks and segmented experience. One Day, we shall all be joyfully emancipated into the pure and unregulated realm of Timelessness.

As always, we welcome your letters and are grateful for your ongoing support.

Yours eternally,
MRM
President at-Large, Society for the Abolishment of Chronological Hierarchy (formerly the Anti-Calendarian Association)

the root of the problem is not cohabitation

Dear Prudie,

I'm in my early 30s and have been dating the love of my life for three years. We moved in together a year ago. Before we began dating, I explained to my boyfriend that I was looking for marriage and children. I thought he wanted the same things. He says that he still does, but after a year of living together, we are not married and there is no engagement ring in sight. (Believe me, I know.) We have been invited to his cousin's house for Thanksgiving. He has a large family, and I am looking forward to going. However, my parents are the only family I have in town, and they were not invited. For the record, my parents have invited his over for parties, dinner, and holidays. I asked my boyfriend whether, if we were married, my parents would have been invited, and he said yes, which made me wish I hadn't asked. What should I do about all this?

—Not So Thankful

Dear Not,

Your letter is a perfect example of how moving in together can get you further away from your life goals if a clear plan for achieving those goals is not part of the discussion you have before signing the lease. I actually don't understand why, after two years together, you would agree to an open-ended cohabitation. You want marriage and children, and you don't have lots of time to waste, but here you are, snooping in his sock drawer to see if there's a wedding ring hidden there, and waiting for your boyfriend to decide your fate. In the meantime, you're supposed to leave your parents alone on Thanksgiving because his family doesn't consider your family to be part of the family. I suggest you take more control of your life, and start with Thanksgiving. Tell your boyfriend either his family finds two more seats at the table, or you are going to have to decline their invitation and spend Thanksgiving with your parents. You could also tell him that the discouraging way this holiday is playing out is making you realize that after three years together, you two really need to talk turkey.

—Prudie

more available here.

emphasis – need I say it? – mine

I don't think I even want to know why this is happening

Sponsored links in gmail. Give a girl a break, why don't you.

hair

In a Safeway in Sacramento, the woman at the check-out counter said to me "I love your hair."

"Thanks!" I replied, "I do it myself."

"You must not have a man at home who yells at at you if you cut it off, then," she said with a smile, laughing.

I smiled slightly and said "No one gets to yell at me" and thought but you don't have to accept this system, these systems, that your hair should be long, that long hair is feminine, that femininity is even worthwhile, that your husband or boyfriend or anyone has anything to say, much less to shout at you about it, that possessiveness is indicative of being desired or cherished, that this is what love looks like, and I said "Have a nice day."

surely she's joking

Certainly many contemporary domestic scenarios are less than ideal, an imbalance which would often be at least partially aided by government-mandated (and perhaps supported) childcare. However, Sandra Sing Loh's NYT piece is so ridiculous reductive and poorly considered that I had a hard time believing I was reading it. This would not have been published in the NYT, I hazard a guess, had it been written by a man. While others – many feminists, as a matter of fact – have opined in the past that "everyone needs a wife," Loh's bizarrely idealized notion of domestic life in the 1950's shows that she should probably a) read The Way We Never Were or at the very least b) watch Mad Men. Bah. It's such knee-jerk reactionary nonsense that I'm even having a hard time getting my dander up about it.

oh disney

Sure, it was the thirties.  On the other hand, that is a black doll yelling "Mammy!" and mooning the camera in Santa's workshop.   Yeesh. (start at 3:40)

slate!

I am so shocked!  "It was for moments like this, I told myself, that tourism to British is alive and well." I've already written them.  I sincerely hope that by the time you attempt to read this article they will have already corrected the error.  Poor copyediting is such a buzzkill.

update, 7:55am, next day: fixed.  They wrote me a nice email, too.

grumbling

what is so frustrating about winter is that despite the fact that the butter has been placed, appropriately, in a dish, so that it may achieve room temperature, it nonetheless refuses to spread elegantly on one's toast as desired.  The room temperature is too cold.  This is rank insubordination.

worthy of rage

who are these idiots, these dribbling, drooling morons who write their rather inane and decidedly uninteresting thought-vomit in library books?  at what point did they fail to understand the concept of library book?

  

I did the world (or at least the lending population of the sfpl area) the favor of erasing these remarks.  After I scanned them, of course, so that I could preserve their idiocy for the general public.  Whoever wrote this should consider themselves damn lucky I don't have access to their library record.  I'd track them down and give them a piece or two of my mind.

last Wednesday: a variety show

6:15am - Alarm goes off. Climb down from my bed, hit snooze, climb back up.

6:30am - Alarm goes off. Get up.

6:30-7:45 - stretching, yawning, shower, humming, coffee, opening eyes, granola

7:45-7:55 - bike to Mission High School

8:00-9:50 - tutor freshmen on oral history narratives for their ethnic studies class

10:00-1:20 - work work work, put add on craigslist for extra theatre ticket, filter candidates, choose one contact, give ticket

1:20-1:35 - bike to Golden Gate Theatre

1:35-1:45 - eat ham & cheese croissant, aka lunch

2:00-5:00 - watch South Pacific with my a free ticket. As I'm leaving a man tells me "You know, I saw the original." "On Broadway?" I ask. "Yup, that was back in 1949." I was one of the few non-grey- or white-haired people in the audience. But then, who else goes to a Wednesday matinée of anything, especially Rodgers and Hammerstein?

5:00-6:00 - grocery shopping

6:00-6:20 - dinner

6:20-8:00 - baking cupcakes for cool-housemate-Kristin's birthday, singing, dancing, candles

While we're on the subject, the playbill for South Pacific, which has rather heavy echoes of Gaughin, doesn't include any facial details for the native women. Really? They aren't minimized enough in the musical by the pigeon English of one and the attractive, smiling silence of the other? Do designers not study these things? Or do they just not pay attention?