the Diva Platform

Maybe you don’t read the comments on this site, but the other day, Obama-fanatic Hasina, who’s taken me to task over and over again on the horrible choice I’ve made in the present Presidential contest, mentioned that oh, by the way, I’m not so sure of Obama anymore, and Hillary’s still lousy in my book.

What?! Did I just read that correctly? After berating me over and over again for not being an O-baliever (I just came up with that, thank you), she’s seeing something wrong with him? Really? How can that be? She does rant a little bit in her blog, and then digs in that I’d automatically assume that she’d be for Hillary now.

Well, she’s wrong. Isn’t choosing a Presidential candidate (and this can probably be spread out to a good number of elected offices) simply choosing the lesser of evils? I mean, the President isn’t perfect, and none of these candidates are going to be perfect either. It’s just a puzzle of trying to figure out which one you’d think would be least damaging to the country.

Have we talked about being disappointed by all of these candidates who’ve fallen by the wayside. What happens when you’re really for a candidate who’s forced to drop out? Then you have to find another candidate that you like, and maybe you get burned again. By the time it’s actually time to vote, you care about voting, but you’ve been burned so much that you just can’t put yourself out there so soon. Like love, it takes a long time to heal from the rejection. Is that why we become so apathetic about politics?

By the way, another reason I don’t assume Hasina’s for Hillary (besides the obvious paying attention to her saying that she’s still not up with her)? Hasina is a Canadian citizen. She can’t vote here, so it ultimately doesn’t matter. Of course, it’s nice that she cares about what happens in this country because she does understand how the US affects other parts of the world, which is a quality we Americans may overlook because we’re here. We don’t always see what we do and don’t do elsewhere. We’re used to America being the leader of the world, and we aren’t used to seeing it perhaps a different way. But I don’t think questioning Obama means Hasina’s suddenly in the Clinton camp. After all, she could now be for McCain, for all I know.

Saturday was a monumental day for me. Why? I finished a bottle of shower gel.

I love shower gel, but it takes me forever to finish a bottle–even if I’m using way more than the recommended amount–because I’m the only one using it. This particular bottle was a Bath & Body Works stress aromatherapy gel. For a long time I was juggling it with other bottles and scents, but I’ve had the bottle for almost three years. It was time to finish it. However, the last month has been like the miracle of Hanukkah in my bathroom: No matter how much I used, the level just didn’t seem to go down. For being a stress reliever, it sure was stressing me out.
The frustrating thing about loving shower gel is that it seems to come in pretty big bottles. Bath & Body Works and H2O+ have it on special a lot. BBW currently has signature gels on special for buy 3, get 1 free, and it’s hard to pass up the free one. H20+ has bath basics at 3 for $18, and you usually have to buy all three to get the special pricing. Before you know it, you’ve got 3-4 decent-sized bottles in your vanity or cluttering up your tub area. If you try to go through one bottle at a time, you can get sick of the scent quickly. If you rotate them, it feels like you never get rid of any of the bottles. And forget shopping for more! Which, if you’re a bath junkie, is hard not to do.

So what’s the best solution? Do you just try to limit yourself to travel sizes so that you can try more scents and allow yourself to go to the store more often? Then of course, you never get to take advantage of the “deals.” You can also survive on hotel samples, but if you don’t travel much, that option is out.

I have wondered if it’s possible to get a bunch of empty travel-sized bottles, grab some friends, and do a shower gel swap. Everybody brings a regular bottle of shower gel and you split it all up. Then you get to sample a bunch of varieties without having to buy it all yourself. Would that work? Any other thoughts or ideas?

This blog entry is not a dream. It’s not a fairy tale. It’s not a joke. This is the truth. I had an unbelievable day using public transportation.

For those of you who live in Chicago and know the wonders (or not-so-wonders) of the CTA, sometimes referred to as a third-world transportation system. Chicagoans have become used to the threats that CTA is underfunded and will drastically cut service at anytime. The train lines are either under construction or have rails that are so bad that you’re riding through a “slow zone” (i.e.–crawl). The buses aren’t any better. A lot of times you wait 20 minutes, only to have three buses in a row come by.

However, I ride it because I have to. Unless I want to fork over a good amount for cabs, I have to put up with it. Many days I’m grateful the system exists, even with its faults and frustrations, and every once in a blue moon I have good fortune to not have to wait long for a bus or train, or I get a good connection. But last week I had a most unreal day, where I hardly had to wait at all for anything. If I didn’t experience it, I wouldn’t believe it. Here’s how it all happened:

• I had an afternoon doctor’s appointment on Michigan Avenue. I did have to run to catch a bus, but the round trip–including the appointment–took one hour. ONE HOUR!
• Around 5:20 pm, I had to take a bunch of packages to the post office near DePaul and get to an event in River North by 6ish. I figured I’d never get there on time. Right away, I caught a bus to the train. While I walked up the el steps, a Brown Line pulled in the station. A Red Line pulled in a second later, so I hopped on that and was to the Fullerton stop in no time. I didn’t have to wait long at the post office (another shocker), and was soon back on the platform headed south. I waited all of two minutes before a Purple Line pulled in the station. I was at the event by 6:05.
• After said event, the Boy and I were wondering if the 156 bus still ran. It was the nearest bus, and the Boy was carrying a 25-pound package along with his briefcase. Sure enough, as we turned the corner onto LaSalle, we spotted a 156 a block away. Amazing!

I don’t really know how I got so lucky, nor do I know if I’ll ever be as lucky again, so I’d better savor this moment.

Last week I spent a fair amount of time at various doctors. This has involved me getting my blood pressure taken twice. Normally, I don’t think about my blood pressure, but the Boy does worry about his from time to time, and for some reason he wants to have a better blood pressure reading than I do [why he's decided to compete with a Jaracz on this, I'm not sure. My father had 90-100% blockage in multiple veins and arteries, but absolutely nothing was wrong with his heart. We Jaracz's are stubborn like that].

So what I do is call him after I get out of the doctor, and tell him my reading. The first one was 110/68. Not bad! The Boy wasn’t happy. He didn’t understand how my blood pressure was better than his, when he’s been working on making his better.

The second one was even better: 100/60. Our phone conversation after this was great:

The Boy: That’s it! (mutters something unintelligible)

Me: What’s that? I can’t hear you.

The Boy: Nothing.

We chat for a little longer.

The Boy: Anything else?

Me: No, I just called to tell you my blood pressure.

The Boy: Well, that pushed mine up a little.

On Friday the Boy had to go to the doctor, and as the nurse was taking his blood pressure, he told her about our friendly little rivalry. The nurse finished up and said he would probably be winning, since his blood pressure was pretty good.  “It’s one twenty–”

“No, that’s not good enough,” he responded and told her what my blood pressure was.

“Oh.  You’re right,” she said.  Then, trying to change the topic. “Well, your heart rate is good.”

It may be crass and vulgar, but I personally think that any sort of bubbly is best drunk straight from the bottle, when one has a full bottle at one’s disposal. On Oscar Night, this is particularly true.

I know I said I hadn’t seen much in the way of Oscar-nominated films, but on Sunday I started to get a slight fever, and that meant I had to watch the Oscars, no matter if I hadn’t seen the films. Last-minute preparations involved grabbing as many flavors of single-serve M&Ms as I could find, making some popcorn, and popping open a bottle of prosecco.

Halfway through the evening–and halfway through the prosecco–I switched to drinking from the bottle, and amazingly, I cared about the evening a little bit more.

We watched some of the Barbara Walters special and the lame pre-show (even Regis and Samantha Harris can’t liven that up). The Boy saw that Laura Linney was interviewed by herself (Clooney had the mysterious Sarah) and said, “Laura’s alone? Laura! You should’ve called!” So, if any of you know people who know people who may know Laura Linney, tell her she’s got a platonic date, should she ever need one. The Boy does clean up nicely–looks great in a tux!

The actual Oscar show was decent. Jon Stewart does a good job as host (minus the political jokes during the opening monologue. I could’ve done without those during a celebration of Hollywood), and I really liked the tributes to binoculars and periscopes. Pretty genius.

What did I think of the winners? Well, the actress was a bit of a surprise to me, and I haven’t seen that movie. I also haven’t seen “No Country for Old Men,” which was the big winner of the night, so I had no feelings either way on that. I did get excited about “The Bourne Ultimatum” winning three big ones, and I was pleased that the Austrian movie won Best Foreign Film. However, that sparked the following conversation:

Me: Austria!

The Boy: You’re Polish! You’ve gotta go for Poland!

Me: But I lived in Austria.

The Boy: Yeah?! You know who else lived in Austria?

Me: Hitler?

The Boy: Yeah! Hitler!

You see, this is what I live with. I also had to deal with the Boy crooning former Best Song winner “Say You, Say Me” through a good portion of the show, since he thought the current Best Song nominees were “lame.”

Overall though, it was a fun evening, courtesy of prosecco, to be sure, but it was worth getting a little hot under the collar about. If you’ve seen “No Country for Old Men,” let me know if it’s really worth of being Best Picture. Maybe I’ll see it at some point.

Oh wait, the Oscars are this weekend, aren’t they? Surprisingly enough, I don’t really have a case of Oscar Fever this year. I’m not sure why this is–it could be that movies are pretty expensive, that we’ve been doing more things where we interact with people a bit more, or it could be that I’ve just gotten older and I’m not as thrilled by movies as I once was. Though I did go to the midnight showing of “The Bourne Ultimatum” in order to see it right when it came out, which proves that if a movie is good enough, I can get excited about it.

Have I seen any nominees? Well, the aforementioned Bourne. We saw “Juno” the other week. If I was in high school, I probably would’ve loved this movie, but as an adult I thought it was good, but not fabulous, and certainly not a “best movie of the year.” When they weren’t being too clever, some of the lines were funny, the acting was good, and I liked the story, but they lost me when Juno referenced Soupy Sales. Do teenagers really know who Soupy Sales is these days?

We rented “Eastern Promises” to see Viggo Mortensen. What a boring movie! I actually went to bed before it was over (rather than just fall asleep on the couch). Not even the violence kept me awake.

I also saw “Sweeney Todd” yesterday, and I’d say Johnny Depp was pretty good.  He doesn’t have the best singing voice, but I give him credit for singing (and with a British accent).  He also did a decent job with his character.  After seeing the movie though, I can understand why it didn’t get many more nods.  Helena Bonham Carter certainly looked the part, but she sang so sweetly that it just didn’t work for me.

But that’s been it. I have no desire to see “No Country For Old Men” because it sounds overly violent, and that’s just not appealing to me (yeah, I know I just talked about a violent movie, but we could rent that, not pay $10 to see it in the theater). Other movies I’ve wanted to see, but I never found the time to get to the theater.

Will I watch on Sunday? I guess I should, but I don’t even know if I want to. Perhaps if I make a batch of M&M mix, I’ll get into the mood.

The other day, the Boy came to me and said quite gravely, “I have to apologize.”

Uh oh.  “What’d you do?”  I asked.

“Well, thanks to me, Barack Obama won the Potomic Primaries.”

“What did you do?”  I asked again.  I didn’t know the Boy was that involved with the Barack campaign.

“Nothing,” he replied.  “But that’s what the e-mail said.”

The Boy is on Barack’s e-mail list.  How he got on it is a complete mystery to him (though I believe it’s a little trick called “signing up for it when Obama first started to run”), but he regularly gets updates from the “movement”–you did know that it’s a movement and not merely a “campaign,” right?–along with the usual begging for money.

I suppose it’s kind of funny to think that the Boy has single-handedly brainwashed the Obama movement into thinking that while sitting around in the middle of Chicago, he masterminded the results of the Potomic Primaries.  I mean, if you’re looking for a conspiracy theory, you’ve got one right here!  And personally, if the Boy is this instrumental, maybe the movement should consider paying him for his big brains.
I also love how the e-mail implores you to send in $25, and then someone will match it, so the power of your donation has doubled (!).  So, wait, are there foundations or companies waiting in the wings to match donations, or are they just pairing up random joes, telling them their donation has been matched, and making everyone feel good?  I don’t get it, and it really reeks of bad marketing speak.

All of this doesn’t mean that the Boy is necessarily for or against Obama at this point, but it’s nice to know that during the time I can still be a Hillary girl, I can blame him for everything that goes “wrong” in the primaries.

Back in September, I wrote how it was Shelly Stammis’ birthday. Now, I know I don’t have a ton of readers, so when I get a direct e-mail from a blog reader, it’s always a nice surprise. Until I opened my inbox and saw an e-mail from “SHELLY STAMMIS.” Subject: [none]. Uh oh. What did I write about Shelly Stammis? Oh yeah, it was her birthday, and in 8th grade she didn’t invite four of us to her slumber party. Hmmmm. How was she going to take that?

First off, how did Shelly know I wrote about her? She Googled herself. First result? My blog. She was a bit perplexed about this because it was a site she didn’t know–and this was actually her. She dug around a little bit, found out it was me, and decided to send an e-mail to say hello. Oh, and she apologized for not inviting me to the slumber party–she didn’t even remember that slumber party (of course. I had dinner with two of the others who weren’t invited. One didn’t remember this. The other said, “Oh yeah! I remember that!” –which made me feel better that I wasn’t the only one who remembered this inconsequential event).

It was good to hear from her. She caught me up on her life–which, to relate to a discussion I’ve had (partially via e-mail) with Danielle-san about the non-traditional path, has definitely been different than most. Shelly was at our high school 10th reunion–she had actually come the farthest, since she was working in the British Virgin Islands at the time (wow!), and she was a couple of months pregnant with her daughter. No father–she’d been raped.

Whoa.

Wow.

How do you deal with that? And I’m not talking about me reacting to that either (well, not really–I mean, maybe about the best thing you can say is, “I’m sorry,” and listen if needed, but that never feels like enough, you know?). I know a couple of people who’ve been raped and/or sexually assaulted, and every once in a while I remember what’s happened to them. I wonder if they think about it still, what they think, and how the experience has changed them, but I’m always reluctant to bring it up because I’m afraid to dredge up a bad past, just in case that pushes the wrong buttons.

Hearing about people who have a daily reminder of a traumatic experience is also amazing. Shelly did say her daughter is wonderful and a huge blessing in her life, which is great to hear. It’s certainly not how one would think your life would become, and I always appreciate hearing how someone else has rolled with the punches and has turned out OK.

You know I’m not a big fan of the Hallmark Holidays:  Days pretty much made up so that you buy stuff (and if you don’t, you’re a despicable person), so I’m taking a minute out of a regular day to tell you that I appreciate the time you spend reading the Diva Platform.  I do hope you enjoy reading it!

That said, did you celebrate Valentine’s Day?  I usually feel weird about it, like I’m supposed to do something special, but the Boy and I already tell each other we love each other a billion times a day, so it’s weird to go out of my way to get something that says, “I love you.”  I did buy a “Generic Valentine’s Day” cookie and some Help Tequila cupcakes from Bleeding Heart Bakery (the cookie was pretty tasty, but the cupcakes were really disappointing.  Almost no cake–and what there was merely OK–and twice as much frosting as cake.  The frosting was good, but when that’s pretty much all you’re eating and you’d planned on eating a cupCAKE, it’s disappointing), and I put together a collage from our visit to the Jameson Distillery, which he hung up in the Gentlemen’s Club in our apartment.

The Boy did get me something:  The 25th anniversary edition of “Tootsie,” one of my all-time favorite movies.  We immediately watched all the special features (including an interesting making-of documentary that was over an hour long), and I’ve watched the movie a couple of times since.

The Boy asked me why I liked it so much, and I mostly like the writing and that it’s played straight and honestly–it seemed realistic to me.  He wondered if this movie could really even play today because times have changed so much.  Women don’t experience the glass ceiling quite the way they did in the 1980s; in fact, I wonder if girls growing up today could even fathom an America where women were expected to be grateful just to have a job.

What I do think still makes this movie relevant is the differences between men and women and how we treat each other.  Michael Dorsey had to play a woman before he realized how difficult it was to be a woman–how men disregard them based on looks, how women should be all dolled up, how they should be strong, yet feminine, etc.  I think some of this holds true today, especially with the mixed messages we get from media.  What do you think?  How much have times changed?

After the shooting at Northern Illinois University last week, it’s unfortunately starting to look like students shooting up college campuses is becoming a trend in America. It’s the “going postal” of the aughts. Shootings at schools are nothing new–heck, when I was in high school, a student shot one of our history teachers.  And even campus shoot-em-ups aren’t new either.   The NIU shooting though, seems odd because it’s coming out that the gunman wasn’t disgruntled.  NIU had had no problems with him when he was a student there; however, the guy apparently went off his meds and went nuts.

As someone who doesn’t have kids, I sometimes feel disconnected from what’s going on in this country–or what the future will be like.  True, I see things from an adult/business perspective, but having kids who are in school does keep you in touch with some of the things that are going on–how does something like this shooting happen?  And it’s even simple like who the heck is Hannah Montana, why does she have a wig, and what is High School Musical.  Ultimately I feel like I’m missing out on what the next generations will be like.  What will be the future of this country?

I was at a party the other week and met someone who was a clinical psychologist for teens in Naperville.  For those of you don’t know Naperville, IL, it’s supposed to be one of the best places to raise children and is on Money Magazine’s top places to live many a year.  So I wondered, If Naperville is so great, what sorts of problems do the kids have?  Turns out that it’s a lot of, “My parents won’t buy me an iPod,” and, “My parents don’t listen to me.”  Typical teen problems, but the parents apparently solve them by shipping the kid off to the shrink.  Why is that?  Is everyone that busy?  Or do the parents have high-powered jobs that require so many hours that they don’t have time to spend with their kids?  Or do they have so much money that paying for a solution is the solution?  Or what?  And what’s the effect of not spending time with kids?

Let me know what you see going on.  I’ll sometimes read websites and try to get a picture, but with the traditional media, you tend to only get extremes (and usually extreme luxury, and I can’t imagine the whole country can afford all of this stuff), and I want to know what’s real in your everyday life.