Jon Stewart Agrees...

...that we shouldn't be talking about Palin either. Hehehehe.

Vagina Video

We need to make this election about Obama, not about Palin or even McCain. I try really hard to be a glass half full sort of person and that means focusing on what's good about Obama and Biden and not what's bad about the Republicans.

Ok. So, I've established where we need to be....and where I want to be. And now, here's where I am. I thought this was HYSTERICAL. What do you think?

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

GOAT ATTACKS ANONYMOUS, RIGHT-WING BLOGGER!

My last post about the importance of voting with an aside about my intention to vote for Obama incited more anonymous negative comments than ever before.

I believe I heard that goats are kind of like pit bulls when they bite onto something. They have a lot of trouble letting go. I am most definitely a goat.

McCain Anti-Choice Video where he plainly states that "life" begins at conception and, as President, all policies will be "pro-life," from which I draw the logical conclusion that that would include the opposition to embryonic stem cell research.

McCain Anti-Embryonic Stem Cell Research Video where, in speaking to the same Christian Minister in what looks like a crowd of very sympathetic and very White supporters, he talks about how "pro-lifers" can't support embryonic stem cell research.

Palin Anti-Choice Video #1 where she says she would support a constitutional ban on abortion.

Palin Anti-Choice Video #2 where she says she would always "choose life" and would not support a rape victim's right to abortion. I'm guessing that, if she would allow a child who was raped to give birth to a rapist's child, she would also ban embryonic stem cell research.

And just to prove that it's my blog and I'll express my opinion as loudly and as often as I'd like, here is a video with MY CANDIDATE'S stance on embryonic stem cell research, which demonstrates the kind of common sense I support. And here's an MS Society video with Obama talking about how he's been affected by MS and how he supports MS activists.

And, finally, here is what The American Academy of Neurology (AAN) and the American Neurological Association (ANA) say about the hope that embryonic stem cell research can bring to cure Multiple Sclerosis and other neurological diseases.

Blog on Babies.

Exercising Our Right to Vote

My sister and I could not be two more different people. It's really hard for me to believe that we grew up in the same house (and for my first 14 years, in the same room!).

But every now and then she surprises me. One time was when she switched churches so I could be my niece Emily's godmother. The priest from the first church said that the world was divided into sheep and goats and that, as a goat (non-Catholic), I was not a good choice for a godparent.

This time, my surprise arrived in an email. I get a lot of forwarded emails from my sister. There are the urban myths, the tear-jerker stories about children dying, and the "celebrate national women's month" or some other such contrived holiday emails. So, when I opened the message copied below (written by someone else with my editorial comments in italics), I expected more of the same. I was wrong.
----------------------------
This is the story of our Grandmothers, and Great-grandmothers, as they lived only 90 years ago. It was not until 1920 that women were granted the right to go to the polls and vote. The women who made it so were innocent and defenseless. And by the end of the night, they were barely alive. Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden's blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of 'obstructing sidewalk traffic.'

They beat Lucy Burn, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air. They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed and knocked her out cold. Her cell mate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack. Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting and kicking the women.

Thus unfolded the 'Night of Terror' on Nov. 15, 1917, when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson's White House for the right to vote.

For weeks, the women's only water came from an open pail. Their food -- all of it colorless slop--was infested with worms. When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.

So, refresh my memory. Some women won't vote this year because -- why, exactly? We have car-pool duties? We have to get to work? Our vote doesn't matter? It's raining?

Last week, I went to a sparsely attended screening of HBO 's new movie Iron Jawed Angels. It is a graphic depiction of the battle these women waged so that I could pull the curtain at the polling booth and have my say. I am ashamed to say I needed the reminder.

All these years later, voter registration is still my passion. But the actual act of voting had become less personal for me, more rote. Frankly, voting often felt more like an obligation than a privilege. Sometimes it was inconvenient.

HBO released the movie on video and DVD. I wish all history, social studies and government teachers would include the movie in their curriculum. I want it shown on Bunco night, too, and anywhere else women gather. (Lazy Julie note: I had no idea what the heck Bunco night was all about so I looked it up. If, like me, you are not familiar with "parlor" games, check out this site.) I realize this isn't our usual idea of socializing, but we are not voting in the numbers that we should be, and I think a little shock therapy is in order.

It is jarring to watch Woodrow Wilson and his cronies try to persuade a psychiatrist to declare Alice Paul insane so that she could be permanently institutionalized. And it is inspiring to watch the doctor refuse. Alice Paul was strong, he said, and brave. That didn't make her crazy.

The doctor admonished the men: 'Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.'

We need to get out and vote and use this right that was fought so hard for by these very courageous women. Whether you vote Democratic, Republican or independent party -- remember to vote. (Lazy Julie note: If you want to help find a cure for Multiple Sclerosis, I urge you to vote for Barack Obama and Joe Biden on November 4. According to the Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, both John McCain and Sarah Palin oppose EMBRYONIC stem cell research.)

Happy Anniversary to My MS

It's Labor Day Weekend. To most people, this is the unofficial end to summer or just another 3-day holiday weekend. To me, it's the one-year anniversary of when I was diagnosed with MS.

Yesterday, the kids and I went for a ride on the bike path near our house that runs from Milton to Dorchester. Well, they rode. I walked so I could be available to help Zane with his new training-wheeled big-boy bike. There was one spill and one tantrum but we had a lot of fun.

Last night, we went to Ken's house for dinner and to bid Alli farewell as she headed back to college. I brought her a shopping bag full of non-perishables to curb the hunger if/when she ran out of money for food. Alli is a very smart young woman and I am really glad the kids and I know her. Matt is going to miss her like crazy...not that he'd admit it. Brothers are so funny.

Today, we spent time at two beaches. There were two tantrums (one was mine), lots of sunshine, climbing on the rocks during high tide at Nantasket, and collecting weird-shaped stones at Wollaston Beach.

While we were out, I left homegrown tomatoes from my landlord cooking in the crock pot with broth and herbs. When we got home, the kids showered and I made a great dinner with ground turkey, broccoli, pasta, and my sauce (or gravy as Tim and other East Boston natives like to call it). After dinner, we watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang which was a hoot and a half for me. I think I was Ruby's age the last time I saw the movie. Ruby couldn't get over how everyone rode in the car with no seat belts. Zane liked the singing, although he did think they said "farting friend" instead of "fendered friend" in the title theme song.

Then it was jammies and bedtime. I read Miss Bindergarten Gets Ready for Kindergarten to Zane and the last chapter of Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone to Ruby. They're asleep now and I'm watching TV...and remembering.

I tell people all the time about what a gift MS has been in my life. Most of the time, I'm not lying. My writing has taken off, I know how to take care of myself like never before, I made some major changes in my life that are all positive (namely my work and living situation), and I mostly focus on just the one day I'm living right now.

But I also grieve. I miss my freakish strength. I grieve the loss of my perceived invincibility. I miss my seemingly boundless energy.

I miss pre-MS me.

But she's gone.

Now, I'm Julie with MS. Lazy Julie. Julie who would love to have time to take a nap every day. Julie who is going to finish my book proposal by the end of the year and then find an agent and then get my book published. Julie who has MS but also has dreams, goals, talents, and a sense of humor. Julie who is still going to rock the world.

It's been a year. It feels like yesterday. It feels like forever.

Superman can fly around the world backwards to turn back time!

Don't you wish you could unsend email? Especially when you send an email with a blog link to someone who you would rather not invite to read your blog. Yes, the blog is public. Yes, I am all out there and don't choose to control who can access the blog. But, then again, I don't personally invite EVERYONE to visit, either.

While we are wishing to change the past, don't you wish we had a "retract" function on words that we speak? Restraint of tongue, pen, and the send button. Hmmmm.

Kidless, Guilty, Jealous, and Lazy

Ruby and Zane go on vacation with their dad for one week a year. Sort of.

They left this morning and Zane will be back next Friday. Because Ruby starts school on Wednesday, she'll come home Tuesday so she can spend the night in her own bed and have me take her to her new school the first day. I still haven't heard back from Mr. X about whether or not he plans to pick her up from school the first day and take her to school the next day so I have no idea if her break from the Daddy-cation will be one day, two days, or more. Zane's first day of Kindergarten isn't until after Labor Day. I'm starting to feel a little teary about my former preemie starting school but that's another post.

The kids are thrilled to be going on Daddy-cation which will include visiting their Aunt and Uncle's house in Ogunquit, Maine and taking a day trip to Water Country.

I love that they are going to have such a fun time. I love that they get to do things like Water Country. I know that I am NOT competing with Mr. X, which is a very good thing. 'Cause I would probably lose. I do fun things with the kids (we built castles and tunnels at the beach just yesterday), but I don't have the budget for expensive theme parks. I am also the one who is responsible for day-to-day discipline and molding of appropriate behavior which means I don't always say "yes" to the ice cream or allow temper tantrums. In other words, I am ALMOST ALWAYS the bad cop.

I love Ruby and Zane very much and anyone who knows me can confirm that they are the most important people in my life. I would gladly block them from a bus or a bullet (if they were careening toward them, that is--I'm not suicidal).

I also know that Ruby and Zane love me. I'm Mommy. I'm always there, no matter what. But I am probably not the one who will take them to Disney for the first time (or at all) and I read price tags before I say "yes" to almost any purchase.

I yell more than I would like and more than I should but I always apologize, confess to a committee member, and try to come up with strategies to avoid the same reaction next time.

I try to be a good mom every day but some days I do better than others. Today, being a good mom meant packing them to leave for a week and kissing them goodbye. And now, I'm taking care of ME which apparently means saving spoons by watching HGTV and writing before I go to a meeting and to sleep over at Bald Hot Ken's Love Palace.

Emerging from Invisibility

I'm had a very, very busy couple of weeks with work, kids, staying up way too late playing scrabble (er....Wordsmith now that Hasbro won the legal pissing contest on Facebook) , and I'm not quite sure what else that's kept me away from writing. I'm also setting up a blog at work so that may have taken up all my blog mojo.

So, here I am with so many things to say that I don't know what to say first. Maybe I'll follow the example of my old co-worker Jason who writes blog posts about what he wants to write about just to get the ideas down for future reference.

• I want to write about a guy named Randy Pausch, a computer science professor at Carnegie Mellon University, who decided to help as many people as possible, fulfill their childhood dreams before he died of terminal pancreatic cancer. He had a great line in his Last Lecture about choosing to be a Tigger or an Eeyore. I am most definitely a Tigger.
  
• I want to write about how scared I feel whenever I see an older woman walking with a cane or a walker and how I have to fight the urge to go up and ask her if she has MS.
• I want to write about how all my New Year's resolutions have gone to shit and how I'm eating sugar on a regular basis, occasionally putting Splenda in my iced coffee, eating red meat and pork every now and then, not doing yoga or any exercise (except if you count athletic sex), "forgetting" to take my shots, and staying up way too late on a regular basis. What's that about and how the heck to I get on the beam? I'm thinking I can get a jump start this week when the kids will be vacationing with their dad. Well, part of the week anyway but I'm not wasting a bullet on him.
• I want to write about how I wish I could be a full-time freelance writer who can work outside on a laptop, take Wordscrapter breaks, and take a nap in the middle of the afternoon.
  
• I want to write about why some people stay sober and others don't and why I have been the former even when I do almost everything wrong.
• I want to write about anger and how I seem to express it a lot in a less-than-mature way to my 9 going on 19-year old who is DEFINITELY on the brink of puberty. I'm a pacifist and I do NOT hit my kids but I yell way too much and lately I'm swearing while yelling sometimes. I really, really don't want to repeat the pattern I had with my own mother. She and I are...well, let's just say, if I was famous, the National Enquirer would do a spread on Lazy Julie's own personal Mommy Dearest. I know Ruby and I do NOT have that relationship and I am NOT my mother. As I write this, Ruby is hugging my arm while we watch the Cheetah Girl movie on Disney. It's actually pretty good, too, since it was filmed in India, which is a place I really, really want to visit. Zane is with us on the couch in our new family room, picking his nose whenever I look away. I am a good mom but I am not perfect...for sure.
  

Speaking of the movie. It's intermission and time for me to make microwave popcorn for my hugger and nose-picker now. Peace out. For those who miss me when I'm MIA, thanks. It's nice to know people notice when I'm not around.

A Real Estate Limerick

I once bought a condo, expensive and small
With a 70s lobby and green rugs in the hall
Retired old couples lounged by the pool.
My kids and I struggled with all the rules.
No floats in the water, don't walk on the grass.
We tried to keep quiet but I felt like an ass.
They were just kids who wanted to play.
I hated the laundry so far away.
But I owned my space with the adjust rate loans
The rooms stayed small but the payments all rose.
I hit rock bottom and sought professional advice.
The pro examined my budget and said "no dice."
I paid too much for housing and had to get out.
I wrote to my lenders and felt like a lout.
The market had tanked but Ken listed it for sale
I owed more than it was worth but needed to bail.
We lowered the price and the offers came in.
But the lender threatened foreclosure and refused to give in.
Negotiations fell through and then came back to life.
Lawyers got greedy and caused so much strife
But I let it all go and the closing went through
I breathe easier now and feel grateful, too.
I'm a happy renter learning how to make the right choice.
Spend and sign wisely and listen to my inner voice.
Housing crisis stories are in the news every day.
I hope that the unscrupulous brokers will all go away.
I take responsibility for my role in this mess.
But are the root industry issues really being addressed?

Invisibility

It appears that invisibility is in sight. Pun intended. Check it out.

So, what would you do if you could be invisible?

I think I would go to wherever the ballots are counted in November to make sure that Barack is the winner. Don't get me wrong. I think he will win fair and square but JUST IN CASE we are screwed by that whole electoral college crap again, I would want to be prepared.

I would go backstage at every Counting Crows concert.

I would go places naked where I wouldn't be allowed to be naked if people could see me.

I would visit people I do not like and screw with their heads--moving stuff around, talking to them, etc.

I would sneak into armories or wherever the heck guns and military weaponry is stored and melt it all down to make art.

I would steal a plane, food, and medicine from rich companies, and air drop it in impoverished areas like Darfur.

I would "deliver" flowers to people who are alone or depressed with a note that says "You are loved."

Hmmm. Now I'm on a roll.

Monday Yucks

My day started with me sleepy and in a mean mood. I'm trying to remember that I can start my day over at any time. Like now.

Nope, still stucks.

One more time.

OK. It's a little better. Erykah Badu on Pandora is helping.

MS Haikus

Sleep evades me now.
Insomnia is my foe
MS gets so tired.

My upper arms ache.
Result of ex-stress no doubt.
My power. My choice.

Bad TV. Scrabble.
Escape routes for boring moms.
Only numbs the pain.

No meeting weekend.
Big surprise I feel like crap.
Serenity now!

Mind Sparkles. MS.
Lesions abound. Brain and spine.
Can't wish them away.

All meaning changes.
MS. It used to spell Ms.
I want that back now.

Angry Haiku

I liked the six-word stories so much and I'm heavy some heavy-duty emotions right now. I am loathe to share details of my ex-husband's latest shenanigans because it will no doubt bite me on the ass, so I've decided to use this ancient Japanese poetry genre to express my current feelings for the lovely man who fathered my children:

Poison burns my throat.
Hatred and fear soil my soul
Forgiveness? Soon, please.

Care to share your haiku? Remember, haikus are 3 lines with the first line 5 syllables long; the second line 7 syllables long; and the third line 5 syllables long. Think of these peeps as syllables.



Show me what you got.

I had a dream...

...but not the Martin Luther King Jr. kind. I stayed in bed pretty much all day. Whenever I sleep during the daytime, I have bizarre dreams. Some good, some bad.

First the bad. Not because I'm a pessimist, but because I like to end on a high note. I dreamed that John came back after picking the kids up--maybe an hour after they drove away. He came back to drop them off, saying that having them this weekend "just didn't work for him." I kept thinking: Now I won't get to have dirty porn sex with Ken tonight. Bummer.

The good dream was cool. I won some big award for this blog and I was going to go to some Emmy-type award ceremony and get some bling-bling icon to go on the site. I kept saying to myself: A year ago, I had only visited one blog and I couldn't have really told you what blogging was all about. Wow! I must be pretty great.

Off to my meeting now.

6-Word Story

My friend, Diane, told me about this very cool, collaborative writing project called six-word stories at webook.com. Brevity is not really my thing, so I though I'd give it a try.

One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.

Just kidding. How about this one: Noxema on sandy skin. Sunburn tingles.

Grammer Help

I love this grammar girl website. The author gives tips and advice in plain language. Thanks to Grammer Girl, I finally understand, once and for all, the correct usage of Who/Whom. I may ignore the rule now but I do know it!

Trapped in the Body of a Volvo-Driving Suburban Mom

I'd like to think that I'm slightly cooler than the average suburban mom. I do NOT wear embroidered kitty shirts (no offense if you do--it's just not my style) or "mom jeans" and my friends have my permission to perform a fashion intervention if I ever do. Nor do I wear too- tight low-riders or belly-baring tank tops from the junior department like some pathetic, middle-aged former stripper. I believe that I have maintained some sense of contemporary style. I am definitely NOT stuck in the 80s or 90s. (Some would argue that my musical taste is a little stale, but they would be WRONG.) I may be kidding myself or believing blatant flattery, but usually people are pretty surprised that I'm 44. I'm actually pretty surprised, too. It seems like just yesterday that I was a teenager who couldn't imagine growing old and had never heard of Multiple Sclerosis.

Going to see live concerts, particularly of my favorite band, Counting Crows, acts as a time machine. I become a 16-year old girl. Not the one that I actually was at 16. This girl is very, very happy, present, and comfortable in her own skin. She is definitely NOT worried about being cool. She dances to the beat of her own drum, she sings at the top of her lungs even though she can't sing, and she is VERY, VERY impressed by musical talent. (Maybe because she has none...?) She would gladly trade her most prized possessions for the chance to be the girl pulled on stage to be seated on a stool and serenaded by the lead singer. (Think Courtney Cox in the 80s Bruce Springsteen video on MTV.) Last Saturday night was MY night. Counting Crows played the Tweeter/Comcast Center outside Boston with Sara Bareilles and Maroon 5. I rested up all morning so I would have enough energy to really enjoy myself.

I went to the concert with Bald Hot Ken's 19-year-old daughter Alli. She was the perfect chaperon for me. She drove, had an awesome digital camera, wasn't afraid of PortaPotties, liked being down front, and completely understood when I told her that both lead singers (Adam Duritz and Adam Levine) were on my list of famous people I was allowed to sleep with if I ever got the chance. (Although I could have done without her passing that nugget along to Ken.)

We had a blast. We paid way too much money for what were, in effect, 3rd row seats (although I made friends with the woman sitting in front of me so I could move to her 2nd row seat during the Counting Crows); I talked back to a security guard who wouldn't let me stand in front of the stage; I bought my 29th, overpriced Counting Crows T-shirt; and spent an hour, waiting in line to drive out of the parking lot, talking about people in other cars and sharing dirt about all kinds of stuff.

My Book Proposal and Creative Visualization

After surveying friends and writers that I trust, I've decided that I'm going to go the traditional publishing route: find an agent who will then shop it around to publishers. In marketing speak: I will focus on my "core competency" and, while I'm writing, I will delegate the rest to those with that particular expertise. Rather than spend my "spoons" and money on printing and marketing a self-published book, I will, instead, write a masterpiece of a book proposal that will include a sample chapter/essay of Maybe I'm Just Lazy: One Woman's Journey Through MS and Life.

The proposal will be such a riveting page turner that I will have to choose from several agents who would like to represent me and find the best house to publish Maybe I'm Just Lazy. Then, my fabulous agent, who becomes one of my best buds, will help me pick a publisher and I will be assigned to an awesome editor who really gets me and my sense of humor and thinks I'm absolutely brilliant. She, too, will become a regular at Chez Lazy Julie, enjoying iced coffee on the deck and telling me stories of famous writers she's edited. When the book comes out, I will go on a virtual tour of the US, with satellite interviews airing in all the major markets. I will visit local bookstores to sign books and read from Maybe I'm Just Lazy.

The book will really take off and, within a few months, I will be asked to be on daytime talk shows, culminating with my appearance on Oprah. She will absolutely love me and will be blown away when I have her wear the MS glasses and other props to know what it feels like to experience Optic Neuritis and other symptoms of MS. The footage will be picked up by all local network affiliates and people all over the nation will be talking about MS. A medical student who has decided he wants to do research instead of patient care, will see the footage and decide that it's his mission to find a cure for MS. And he will.

And we all lived happily ever after.

Intolerance Kills

I just received the following email from the minister at my Unitarian Universalist church which my dad calls "The Church of What's Happening Now" and I call a lovely place to present my children with a liberal and diverse spiritual foundation:

Dear Friends,

It is with a deeply saddened heart that I write to you about the tragedy that struck the Tennessee Valley UU Congregation yesterday morning. You may have already heard this news, but in case you haven't, the shooting happened by a man unknown to the congregation during a performance by the young people of their summer musical project (Annie). Six people were sent to the hospital with gunshot wounds, and a seventh with an ankle injury sustained while trying to get away. Two of the members have died.

Summaries of the developing coverage can be found at www.philocrites.com.

This incident carries with it deep sadness-if there is one place that should be safe, it is the sanctuary of a religious community. Rest assured, UUA staff and members of the UU Trauma Response Ministry are responding as I type this, providing support and resources to the congregation and its members. Already other religious communities are stepping up to offer assistance, and a nearby UU congregation is holding a vigil this afternoon. There will be a vigil of Boston-area UU’s at Copley Square at 7:30pm tonight.

News of this incident will most likely be on news programs, and your children may hear about this incident. Because this happened in a UU congregation, they may wonder if they will be safe at First Parish. This kind of anxiety is common, and open and honest communication is always the best. The UU Trauma Response Ministry website has some resources on responding to children in these situations (http://www.traumaministry.org/resources.htm). You might also want to have your children draw pictures or make cards to send to the children of TVUUC-knowing that others are thinking of them is important at this time.

I will send another email out later this week as we know more about this tragedy, and as the needs of the congregation become more clear. If any donation funds are created, I will let you know.

Thank you, friends, for what I know will be your generous prayers and best wishes going out to our congregation in Knoxville.

I am sending peaceful vibes to Knoxville. I hope you will do the same.

Optic Neuritis Webinar

My Optic Neuritis was my presenting MS symptom and is still the most annoying feature of this otherwise FABULOUS disease. When the myelin broke down on the optic nerve of my right eye, there was nerve damage and I'm now legally blind in my right eye. I still have spots of vision, though, which can be distracting some times. I tend to close that eye while driving. If I'm going to be in the car for a while I put on my pirate patch and regal the kids with my "Arrrrr" noises. I regularly experience Uhthoff's sign in busy places (stores, a crowded beach, etc.) where it's like my eyes are on information overload and I can only focus on what's right in front of me. I also regularly see have blurry spots and see blinky lights when I'm tired, particularly when I close my eyes. I passed the eye test to drive which I still do but I tend to avoid driving at night and, when I do, I'm the person doing the imitation of a little old lady on the highway going 45 mph in the right lane with my seat pushed all the way forward and my eyes squinting out the windshield.

So, when I saw this webinar offering, I signed right up. If you have or know someone with Optic Neuritis, you may want to participate. It's free.