Inertia

Inertia: a property of matter that causes it to resist changes in speed or direction (velocity).

We learn about inertia in the physical sciences, and for most of us, it stops with a true/false question on an exam. Or maybe multiple choice, something I prefer to those darned true/false questions.

Inertia is something that keeps us doing the same thing over time. I have a cup of coffee or a Diet Dr. Pepper in the morning. Then I decide it would be better for me, for my teeth, for my neurological system that tells me I should quit. And I decide to quit. But then inertia keeps me wanting my Diet Dr. Pepper in the morning. A bad habit.

Do you ever notice we don't focus on the good habits in our lives? Those who go to the gym five days per week? Or those who floss? We don't really even think about it.

Inertia is the elephant in the room – something we don't talk about – when we think about doing something else. The book I have committed to write but have written a couple of pages. Son-of-a-bitch. So why don't we do the things we should do and avoid the things we should avoid? Inertia. That little word that was worth five points on a high school sophomore's science test.

I have no other answers today. Just thinking about inertia.

Going Pantyless

Several months ago, there were pictures of Britney Spears's love muffin all over the web. Then there were pictures of Paris Hilton's love muffin as well. And Lindsay Lohan's. Now I don't know if paparazzi intentionally go for the crotch shot, but they definitely get some shots when taking pictures of these women.

And then there is Ashley Tisdale ¹ who says she's nothing like them - she always wears panties.

She did an interview for Blender magazine recently, and she is quoted as saying: "I don't know why they do that. Maybe they didn't do their laundry. I’m definitely the kind of person to wear underwear all the time."

I absolutely love her answer.

I don't know if you do it, but when I read an interview, I think of something that would have been better to say than what was said. Okay, my weird word play has disadvantages. I never read that Tom Cruise was into scientology because he liked controlling his wife - that was just something in my head that I heard.

But when I read the bit in Blender – someone emailed me the link – I don't read magazines named after kitchen utensils, I would have answered differently.

Blender Magazine asks some question about my opinion of why some celebs don't wear panties.

Ashley Tisdale (in Leesa's head): "I don't know why they do that. Maybe they have recurrent yeast infections."

Blender Magazine (in Leesa's head): "Are you saying that Britney, Paris and Lindsay have yeast infections?"

Ashley Tisdale (in Leesa's head): "I didn't say that. I was just giving a hypothesis as to why they seem to be pantyless. I had a friend in middle school who did not wear panties because a doctor told her not to. Something to do with infections."

Blender Magazine (in Leesa's head): "So what are you saying about Britney, Paris and Lindsay's love muffins?"

Ashley Tisdale (in Leesa's head): "I am sorry. I have no knowledge of their love muffins. Well, maybe not Lindsay's."

Blender Magazine (in Leesa's head): "So you are familiar with Lindsay's love muffin?"

Ashley Tisdale (in Leesa's head): "I didn't say that either. I meant I saw it in one of the celeb gossip pages."

Before the interview was over, I would have had to reach over and destroy the interviewer's notes and tape recorder. I then would have been arrested for assault, but would have taken a dynamite mug shot. Afterwards, I would have gone on a drinking binge, got in a taxi, then upon getting out of the taxi, a paparazzo takes a picture of my love muffin.

Son-of-a-bitch.

---

¹Okay, she is one of the stars of "High School Musical". I don't get cable, but I did see the original, made for Disney TV movie.

Elementary Schools and Memorial Day

I remember visiting my elementary school when I had just graduated high school. I can't remember the reason for the visit, but I definitely remember the feeling. My initial reaction was that I was some sort of mutant giant. The combination chair-desks looked so tiny, but when I was 5 and 6, they were as large as the desk I am sitting at right now.

When I saw the classroom, not much has changed. I mean, I felt like they shrank the desks, but intellectually, I knew that they hadn't. I spent most of my childhood years in the same school system, and I liked it that way.

If I would have lived nearer the school, I guess I could visit every time I needed to be reminded about change in perspectives.

I was in an elementary school recently – well a month or so ago. Not my elementary school, and I did not feel like a mutated giant. I think it may have been because I never saw the chairs when I was small – that they were just chairs to me, not my chairs when I was growing up. Everything looked fairly normal.

But I was reminded how strict they are in elementary school. Walking in a single-file line with no talking. Waiting for the teacher before entering the classroom. Wow. They still are strict in elementary school.

I am a bit removed from Memorial Day. We never really observed it as children, and we really don't do so as adults. Most of us think of Memorial Day as some three-day weekend in May. Nothing more. I have seen little things that remind me that war, even today, leaves families in pieces. But it is like me seeing someone else's kindergarten classroom. It makes less of an impact than if it were my own. If I were closer to the reason for Memorial Day.

Take a moment to pause today for the men and women who have fallen in defense of our nation.

Connections

I little more than a month ago, one of our friends (~deb) stopped blogging. At the time, I know what we were all thinking - ~deb is getting too much action to write. Okay, perhaps that's not what other people were thinking. Most people don't have their brains in the potty.

Here is what I noticed. ~Deb was (is!) really popular, and her blog linked people with very diverse interests: fundamental Christians (they either love her or hate her), lesbians (ditto), writers, people who loved her sense of humor, and those thinking she would post lesbian kissing videos. I am sure there are other interests involved, but the point is that she has a diverse bunch of friends. Anyway, she would connect people of different interests with her blog. And we would benefit because they would occasionally hop over to our blogs as well, posting occasionally.

Since April 15, however, I have noticed fewer lesbians and fundamental Christians on my blog. I mean Grant can say I will rot in Hell for my actions (he is not fundamental Christian; I suspect he believes everyone will rot in Hell – though he may characterize it as more of a party atmosphere), but that's not like someone else knowing God's mind and telling me I will rot. Some Christians are just helpful that way. Plus I don't get the lesbian crowd trying to convince me to go to Florida for a private pool party (I suspect that is code for something, but I am not sure what).

At one point I actually wanted to get together two of my blogging friends: ~deb and Joe. I mean, I thought the two of them had a lot in common. They were both from New York. They both wrote wonderful and humorous blogs. And they both like girls. Yeah, I did not really think this one through. That's like saying, "This Phillips screwdriver should work fine, screwing in the flat head screw. The screwdriver is near the screw, and both are made of metal." But ~Deb and Joe were not destined to be. SSC gets that honor. Oh, SSC and Joe, not SSC and ~Deb (as far as I am aware of). Reminds me of Malcolm Gladwell's story in Tipping Point concerning Paul Revere's ride. There were actually two riders that night, Paul Revere and the other guy. We don't remember the other guy because he really wasn't that connected to the people he was trying to communicate with. So history has forgotten this man, and so have I. The other guy was not effective at linking people, so when he rode by, shouting "The British are coming," I suspect a lot of people thought to themselves, "Who is that idiot who seems to have had too much mead this evening." Okay, the story is a bit different, but you get the idea.

As humans, we seem to need to connect. And many of us connect with similar people – our own church groups, people we work with, maybe people we share a hobby with (swingers, perhaps, connect in another way). But some, the rare individuals, seem to be able to connect with people of different backgrounds. Whether it is people or blogs, when connections are broken, it is felt.

Who's the Boss?

The other day, I was stuck in traffic, and it occurred to me: I am not the boss in many of my roles I have in life.

Take my part in traffic. There was a man who was directing traffic, and he was the boss. Others in traffic did not realize it, but I certainly did. There was construction around an intersection, and he was directing us through the intersection. Okay, this is not news or a revelation.

But I saw a man make an obscene gesture towards the man, you know, give him the one-fingered salute. The flagman's reaction? He smiled, and flipped his sign over, from "Slow" to "Stop." He kept the man at the intersection far longer than was customary. And thinking back, I sort of applauded the lesson the finger-flipping man was given.

When I go to the doctor's office, I am very kind to the medical receptionist. I used to be kind just because I thought the job may be thankless, but that's when I had not really observed the medical office. Now I see that she really guides traffic, making sure patients have their vitals checked, their insurance in order, and their children controlled. And she, more than anyone else, determines when you get ushered to the exam room. In the medical room, I am certainly not the boss.

Not only does the medical receptionist tell me when I can go to the room, but once I am there, I am at the mercy of the doctor. I can't ring a button or change a tipping situation in order to command better service. I am at her mercy. And then she gets to decide whether to give me a shot (well, that argument probably works better in the pediatric world), give me a pap smear, or hit me with the rubber hammer. Yeah, me out of control.

I go to the airport, and I am definitely not the boss. The luggage has more rights than I do. Everyone with a TSA jacket and badge can pretty much do what the hell they want with me.

TSA Agent: "Touch your nose with your left index finger."

Dumb Ass Leesa: "How is that a security request."

TSA Agent (talking into radio): "We have a code orange in Terminal B. Bring the cattle prod."

Okay, it is not that bad. But they get to determine what is three ounces or five ounces, if as stick pin is some sort of dangerous weapon, and who to delay when they wave their phallic wand in your direction. Me, certainly not in charge.

I suppose that's why, when I am grocery shopping, I sprint to the "Self Check-out Line." I love being in charge of that machine. I love that I don't put my bread and canned items in the same bag, and I love that no one smirks when I say, "plastic." I re-use the damn bags all of the time. Stupid environmentalist baggers.

Movie Reviews

I remember Siskel and Ebert – they were the first movie reviews I ever really watched. Gene Siskel, as I recall, got brain cancer and died. By then, I had stopped watching their reviews.

At first, I started watching them because they were entertaining and their information helped me make decisions on movies that were in that somewhat grey area. Yeah, they had an actor or actress I enjoyed watching, but the previews looked questionable. They gave me useful information.

After a while of their same stick, I started watching their interactions. Sometimes they would can a movie, say it was not very good, but they would say that young men in search of boobies might find redeeming value in the movie. Okay, so their interactions did not say that, precisely, but you know what I mean.

I watched a movie this weekend with my husband, and we really took two different approaches. The movie was not one I would have ever seen on purpose. In fact, if I were in a plane at 30,000 feet and the movie was on, I might take a nap.

The movie was Speed Racer.

Okay, I did not really ever watch Speed Racer when it was on TV. I don't like Anime, and I don't like cars. I read the reviews as well – something about a movie giving people headaches. That it was a fast-paced and slow-paced movie, wavering between the two. So watching this movie was an act of love.

On the other hand, my husband loved the movie. He said that the movie reminded him of the TV series, not the artwork but the spirit of the series. Personally, I think he is full of crap. But I am still suffering from the over-stimulation of my optic nerve.

Funny thing is that I was waiting for the movie to end and he loved every minute of the movie. We watched the same movie and had totally different takes on it.

When I was in college, there was a movie reviewer called Joe Bob. He used to review really bad movies. But it seemed he really gave reviews that his audience appreciated.

Don't worry – I will not do movie reviews. I think there should be movie food reviews, though. Cost verses quality/tastiness.

Random Friday #22

The Singing Patient
I got a comment this week from someone called "The Singing Patient". Well, her name is Carla Ulbrich – she is a mucician who is also a blogger. You can see her music here. She has lupus, she is a newlywed, and I love her sense of humor.

Public Television
I read in the paper that the government is thinking of cutting public television again. I remember fondly about public television when I was growing up. Personally, I think they are talking about cutting funding for the same reason that local governments talk about cutting libraries – they want to scare people into accepting higher taxes.

I was looking at public television the other day, and I know it is supposed to be commercial-free. But when the television tells you about a product and gives you a phone number, it sort of feels like a commercial.

Weird Saying
My mom, when talking about her early years of marriage, would say, "We were so poor that we did not have a pot to piss in." You know, I don't think Bill Gates has a pot that he pisses in, either, and, well, he is doing pretty well for himself. And if I were really poor but had a pot, I think I would be making stew and soup, not using it for a restroom. Doesn't seem to make much sense.

Vista
I don't use MS Vista; I still use the last OS: Windows XP Professional. Apparently Vista must suck, because my husband has not mentioned purchasing it. It is sad when I assume that's why we have not installed it on the home machine.

Geek Girl TV
I watch Geek Girl TV on YouTube. I am not much of a computer geek, but I like the intro music by The Daze. Plus, I really like listening to technical stuff, even if it doesn't really make sense.

Iron Man
I saw Iron Man recently, and although I did not really like Robert Downey, Jr., or I should say I haven't until now, I liked him in the movie. I did not know that there was an Iron Man superhero, but apparently he is pretty popular. I looked him up on Google, and Iron Man debuted in 1963. Who would have known? I am not a big comic book person. I think comic books serve a purpose: limiting the genetic success of their readers – but I don't understand the draw. I love to read, and to read sentences that are not surrounded by bubbles. Oh, I meant to say that I actually enjoyed Iron Man, surprising for me and my husband. Yeah, I agreed to see it so I get to pick next time. Perhaps we will see The Edge of Heaven, if we can find some local movie house that is playing it. I really want to see the new Indiana Jones movie, but I am downplaying it with hubbie. I want him to think this is a sacrifice for me. I am sneaky that way.

Bill O'Reily
I don't watch Bill O'Reily (because I don't watch much TV and I am more liberal than conservative). But he had on Marina, one of the YouTube people I watch.



Have a great weekend!

Recession Anyone?

I am not much of a newsie, but I keep hearing reports that the US economy sucks. Okay, gas is freakin' expensive. Okay, it is so expensive that I probably should have said "fuckin' expensive." That is expensive. And I hear that food is getting more expensive. Okay, I am not sure food is more expensive. I mean, I can't really tell with fruits and vegetables; I mean, sometimes food gets more or less expensive due to the season. And I am eating more organic stuff, so it is hard to judge based solely on the grocery bills.

I do know the price of our home has decreased in value over the last year. Fallen like a stone. Someone on our street is selling a house and has dropped the price twice in the last month. Holy crap.

So all of this stuff – the stuff in the media, I am talking about – makes me think that I am not doing so well financially. I mean, I have not lost a job, and I got my cost-of-living increase. Okay, it was called a raise, which is technically true. Actually, a cost of living increase would have been a heck-of-a-lot more, considering the price of gas and groceries and vibrator batteries.

I read last week that there are certain recession-proof things. Professional sports is one of them. People will not give up their season tickets. That sort of surprises me. I mean, in economics, we learned that booze is recession-proof, and some suggest that hookers are also recession-proof. During hard economic times, people need a way to escape. Not sure if there is a rise in illegal drugs, but based on other things I know, it would not surprise me.

My grandparents were children of the Great Depression, and it really affected how they viewed the world. I had a grandmother who was very well off, and she would wash out Ziploc bags. Several times. My mom did the same thing. And I started doing it as well. You know, clothespin them to the curtains in the kitchen to dry. That was just part of how I lived my life. Then several years ago, I thought about how much Ziploc backs actually cost. One fewer stop at a Starbucks could fund my "not reusing Ziploc bags" fund for a month. Sure, there is also an environmental impact as well. Sometimes I don't like having a conscience.

But you know, I re-use tubs from my spread (not really margarine) and other packaging. It makes good containers for leftovers, and I throw them out when they acquire a smell. I know what you are thinking: it would be more environmentally sensitive for me to churn my own butter, but then I would have really bulgy arms. And I would have to buy different dresses, I am sure, to accomidate my new Eastern-European weightlifters on steroids look. And that would be worse for the environment. The world is a complicated place.

I talk to my friends, and they are cutting back on stuff as well. Not that they are making less money, but they feel poorer. At what point are we psyching ourselves into this recession?

I am no economist – I have far too much common sense for that – but it seems to me that when people spend less, companies make less, they lay off more people, and so on. What is sort of messed up is when times are good, our government still spends all the money it receives in taxes (and then some). So when times are rough, the deficit spending just increases.

I saw an article the other day about spending money. The congressman who was proposing some $4 Billion dollar program defended it because "$4 Billion really is not a lot of money when the total budget is about $3 Trillion." That's like me telling my husband that I bought a $500 dress because, in the grand scheme of things, it is not really all that much compared with our annual budget. And these are the sorts of guys that are deciding on how to spend the Federal budget. Yikes.

So we have a bunch of people in office who are fiscally irresponsible, we have a media who tells us how bad things are economically, and we spend less money. I know who we need to blame: President Bush. He is an easy target.

A recent Bushism: "Let me start off by saying that in 2000 I said, 'Vote for me. I'm an agent of change.' In 2004, I said, 'I'm not interested in change --I want to continue as president.' Every candidate has got to say 'change.' That's what the American people expect." --George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., March 5, 2008

Weighing In

Okay, last week I bought a new scale. I figured, "I am an American consumer, and my goal is to loose weight, so I will purchase a better devise for measuring weight." Okay, tongue-in-cheek, but I got a new scale.

This scale measures weight, but also tells you body fat, bone weight and percent water. Personally, I think the scale has some random number generator and takes guesses at much of this, but it is fun. And it looks so professional, with the LCD-numbers. LCD always looks accurate, huh?

So here I am, weighing myself every morning at 5 am, with no clothes on. Yeah, I can see me loosing one-tenth of a pound, though I think perhaps if my toes are not in the same position, perhaps, that might account for the tenth-of-a-pound.

Here is something I did not expect. My husband is using the scale. He has not used our other scale in years, but because this is new technology, he wants to use it.

So I would think, "Great, hubbie is going to work on loosing weight as well." Yeah, right.

The other day, I am in the bedroom, and I hear my husband on the scale.

Hubbie shouts to me, "Hey, Leesa, guess what?"

I yell back, "What hun?"

Hubbie answers, "My poop weighs 0.2 pounds."

"Excuse me?"

My husband explains, "I weighed myself, then pooped, then weighed myself again. And I am 0.2 pounds lighter."

I retort,"Just don't weigh poop on the scale."

Oh, yeah, and I am told that my husband's pee weighs either 0.1 pound or 0.2 pounds, depending on how much there is. Yeah, he did that experiment as well.

Oh, and by the way, the next time my husband asked me, "Hey, Leesa, guess what?", I had a different response:

"Not a clue, honey, not a clue what you are up to."

Stepping Out with a Woman

This is the second part of a two part post.

After avoiding a man, a woman was also flirting with me.

We were at a bar, man to the left of me, woman to the right of me, and both were flirting with me. Like it or not, I was enjoying it. The guy touched my ass, the woman touched my leg, and I was a lady.

Now I did not fuck the man because I did not want him to think less of me. And the woman, I thought about it.

I mean, when I was unfaithful with my husband in the past, it was with men. So with a woman, would that be different?

I have heard lots of people say, "If a woman fucks another woman, it is not exactly cheating." Actually, I have a friend who has lots of women lovers, because his husband allows female conquests but no male conquests. That is a bit twisted from my point-of-view.

But at the bar, when she was touching my leg, accidently brushing against it, I wondered if it was an easier road to take. Still did nothing about it, but I don't dream about her since I got back from the conference.

Stepping Out with a Man

A few months ago, I attended a conference. It was a conference I did not really need to be at, a conference I was at because of a reward. Yeah, vacation on the firm. It sounds so "big girl" when I say it that way.

Anyway, the conference was full of hour long or 90-minute long presentations. Okay, I was not really interested in the presentations. I was looking to see why people would ask questions – so I was watching the participants seeing their motivations for speaking up, for checking email instead of listening, all sorts of things. You know, I can entertain myself with my thoughts. I never got the "I'm bored. Entertain me!" mantra I seem to here every once in a while.

In the evenings, we would have mixers and go out. I have not gone out much in the past several years, so it was fun going out. I flirted, I danced, I had fun, and I was a good girl.

At the conference, I went out with the same group of people two nights in a row. I was pursued by both a man and a woman on those nights, and I was flattered: today I will write about the man who pursued me; Friday I will write about the woman.

I have had men hit on me over the years, and I am very good at saying "No" without bruising egos. It is an art, and most women who like male friends having additional benefits know how to do this. The difference about this conference is that I actually wanted to sleep with the guy.

You know, I wanted to sleep with him and I didn't do it. I controlled my emotions, my feelings, and I did not sleep with him.

I want to say that the reason I did not sleep with him is that I am a different person than I was several years ago, and while that is true, that is not the reason for my abstinence. I have avoided situations like this for a while, but when you are by yourself at a conference, there is temptation.

I did not sleep with the guy – a handsome, smart, sexy funny man – because I did not want him to think I am a slut. I wanted him to think better of me. Yeah, that does not make me feel any better. I may have slept with him if I did not think he would think of any worse of me. That's sort of screwed up.

He emailed me after the conference, "networking" as he put it. He is still trying to hook up with me, and I am not discouraging it. And that makes me a bad Leesa. Or a human Leesa.

Sports and Democrats

I saw that the Atlanta Hawks drew out Boston to seven games. After Game 6, I knew the Hawks were going to go down in flames in Game 7. They were chanting "Game 7. Game 7" after game 6, sort of like they had just won the Superbowl. Okay, mixed metaphor, but you get the idea.

The same weekend, some horse broke two ankles in the Kentucky Derby. When I was growing up, I can't remember any horse being put down at the major races. Sure, I knew it happened, but I never experienced it.

I don't know about sports in the spring. I don't like basketball or baseball. Not professional basketball or baseball, at least. Normally, the Atlanta Hawks are on vacation come playoffs. Well, ten games before playoffs, actually. And now this with the Kentucky Derby. I think I will not watch sports until August 28!

I guess I will turn my attention to politics. It can't be any less upsetting that putting a horse down after she breaks a couple of ankles.

I heard the other day that Rush Limbaugh is taking credit for Hillary's victories in Texas and Ohio. Well, that fat conservative (is he still fat?) takes credit for a heck of a lot. I don't know a lot about Rush now a days, but he has a bit of an ego. Actually, Hillary should thank Obama.

Obama mishandled the whole Jaramiah Wright situation. If Senator Obama would take my calls, here is what I would tell him:

Senator Obama, here is how you should have settled the whole Jaramiah Wright situation. You should have started by explaining that you have been associated with Reverend Wright for sixteen years (he said "almost 20"). I have been married for almost 16 years, and I would have never characterized it as almost 20. Perhaps "feels like 20", but never actually almost twenty.

Then, Senator, I would have explained that Reverend Wright grew up a generation before you did. He saw things, experienced things, that helped shape way he sees the world. I do not have the anger that Reverend Wright has, but I can understand his feelings, given his experiences. Some have suggested that Obama must believe what Jaramiah Wright believes. I don't believe everything my priest believes. And I have had priests that have thought some really strange things.

I have known people who lived through rough times, times where people were mistreated based on their skin color. And I can understand how some people's view of the world would be changed, based on those experiences.

The Reverend Wright has said some pretty awful things, but his opinions are not Obama's opinions. It's not like Obama lied about ducking from sniper fire in Bosnia. Obama's making some mistakes right now. How the heck can he make these mistakes? I mean, it's just common sense, right?

Random #21: Not So Random

Playboy on YouTube
Someone sent me a link to a YouTube video; apparently Playboy is using YouTube to help pick the playmate for their 55th anniversary. Here is the sad thing: the video has been up for a month and there are only a tad less than ten thousand views. Ten people have rated the video, and there was one comment when I saw it on Thursday. I have a feeling that Playboy is a bit past its prime.

The playboy channel on YouTube is getting lots of views. I mean, they talk about Theesomes, the Olive Garden, and . . . well, I sort of got bored. Sorry, Grant, I did not find any Asian women.

Masturbation Month
I got an eCard saying that the month of May is masturbation month. Should that be capitalized? I don't know. There was a link to Tara something-or-other (definitely not work safe), and instead of just the site, it was lined to an MP3 file. I actually clicked on the link, not knowing what it was, and a co-worker overheard, "I am going to sit here and play with myself, and . . ." before I killed Windows Media Player.

At the Gym
A friend emailed the following to me earlier this week: "As I was pulling into the gym parking lot at lunch, I noticed someone waiting from a parking space right out front, next to the disabled parking spaces. I often wonder why people try to get the closest space when going to the gym – I just find the first space I can pull through and park. The extra twenty steps don’t seem to be a big deal. Can’t people pretend their workout starts in the parking lot?"

Okay, I edited it a bit. But I think it is funny.

Leaving Early Today
I may leave work a bit early today, and I can't really think of too many other things to write about. Have a good weekend.