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July 20, 2008

mileage may vary

Story #1: Two days ago I was standing at the corner of University and Pelissier talking with Leesa Bringas (of Artcite, Inc.)and Sara Elliott (of CBC radio Windsor) when two little kids approached us holding Rubbermaid totes filled with miniature flags. As they rattled off their rehearsed spiel, we're selling these international flags to help send underprivileged kids to camp any size donation please help us aren't we cute I thought about how they must have carefully arranged the kids in these perfect pairs, one boy and one girl, one caucasian and one visible minority, one older and one so cute and little.

Leesa asked, what organization is this? The girl said, families for something-or-other-and-values (hmm). What kind of camp? A camp where they teach us stuff (uh-oh). What kind of stuff? Family values (GIANT ALARM BELLS). What kind of family values, I asked, not really wanting to know, clutching my satchel a little tighter lest any of my precious coins might find their way, through insidious cuteness of little kids, into the hands of the evil family values sector.

Their answer, sadly, is predictable. Values like fidelity within marriage, abstinence until marriage. . . we stopped them there. Sorry kids, see ya. Sara said to us, holy crap you guys with the questions! But this is how living in a place like Georgia changes you, I guess: you hear the phrase "family values" and you start sweating and your ears start clanging and the skin on the back of your neck crawls.

And, how stupid are these people, thinking that a good time to send kids out begging change for family values is during Pride weekend and the Fringe Festival, when downtown is crawling with people like me, people whose values most likely include everyone's freedom to marry whomever they love, women's rights to reproductive freedom and young people's rights to adequate sex education and pregnancy/STD protection? All the things the so-called family values brigade hate. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Way to send your little children into a shitstorm, people.

Story #2: Last night, walking home in a muggy drizzle from eating our supper by the river, I decided I was just too hot and too gross and it's too damned July here right now to have long hair and so I was going to give in to the temptation to cut my hair off short again. Once I'd made up my mind I had to do it immediately, in the fifteen minutes or so that we had before going out to meet friends at the pub. After goading Peter into agreeing to help me shave the back, I grabbed a handful of hair on the left side, twisted it up good and tight and chopped it. Then I chopped a second handful. Then I looked in the mirror and said, this isn't too bad right here! How about if I wear it like this for a while? Totally joking.

Peter said, do you want people to call you Sheena?

You totally just sold me on this haircut, dude. For now.

Posted by jodi at July 20, 2008 10:24 AM | categories:  dumbass : self-absorbtion

Comments

Posted by: cari at July 20, 2008 04:04 PM

Posted by: Laurie at July 20, 2008 04:52 PM

Posted by: Mary at July 20, 2008 10:37 PM

Posted by: Mary at July 23, 2008 10:50 PM

Posted by: Andrew at July 24, 2008 02:58 PM