THE blog of alie knitzer

Yeah... so

2009-07-02T08:47:00.000-07:00

I think I've outgrown this blog. Maybe it was too random, so I'm going to create another blog that's more, I don't know, focused. Thanks for checking this out!

Open Letter To The Guy That Ran Into My Parked VW

2009-04-06T21:14:00.001-07:00

What, did you think I wouldn't notice?
Why didn't you bother leaving a note or something?
That's what I would have done!
What are you, the world's most colossal jerk?
What are you driving around a parking lot that fast for, anyway?
That could have been a cat or a child.
Would you have kept going if you'd run over a bunny?
Ass face!

If you're gay and want to get married, go too Iowa.

2009-04-03T09:06:00.000-07:00

Unbelievable. Iowa can even figure out that same-sex marriage bans are unconstitutional, but we (California, I mean) just don't know... *SIGH!*

Other states where everyone has the right to get married: Massachusetts, Connecticut.

I saw this photo online and thought it was adorable... I can't remember where, though.

Speaking of marriage, I can't believe mine is less than six weeks away! Sure, Micah & I have been living together about three and a half years, so not much is going to change, but it's going to be a fun party!!

Holy crap, it's halfway through March and I haven't posted anything!!

2009-03-17T10:29:00.001-07:00

Well, not a lot has happened, but I'll think of something.

Micah turned 29 twelve days ago. So I baked (at least, I tried to) a black forest cake a la Portal, and it tasted fantastic. We went out for Peruvian with his sister, Heather, and her hubby, Karl, and had an awesome time. Went to breakfast with his mom Sunday, which wasn't so terrible.

Last Friday (3-13-09) we went with Jen & Dan to see The Watchmen. Aside from it being ten hours long, not being a thing like 300, and so much blue, glowing, atomic dong, it was a really good movie. I would not recommend going to a showing anytime after 9:00pm, lest you want to be completely useless the next day. (We would have made the 9pm showing, if we hadn't been sat at the back of a Greek restaurant that used to rock, but now isn't the best.)

Anything else? Oh, yes, I bowled an average of 108.67 in class last Tuesday. Not super, I know, but it's much better than my average two weeks before that: 77. Watch out, Bowling Reception, I'll be a force to be reckoned with! I'm also having ridiculous issues with a certain national postal service. First, I got one invite back two weeks after mailing it, saying it needed more postage. So I put it in a new envelope, put that in a textbook overnight, then mailed it the next day. It was delivered within two days. Then, I got an email from Micah's aunt asking if she'd been uninvited to the wedding. I told her, of course they're still invited and I sent the invites over a month ago. So I'm all, "Am I supposed to call all invitees who haven't responded to see if they even GOT their bloody invites?" Stupid generic national postal service. I suppose having a tiny wedding has it's blessing though. I've only had five freak outs. 1: Micah wanted to wear a tan bowling shirt instead of grey, because it isn't in our color scheme. (Why the hell did I use that word?) 2: The bowling alley we were going to have our reception at CLOSED!! 3: The return addresses were wrong. 4: Micah's mom AND my uncle invited mystery people. (Space is limited. We can only have 40 people total.) 5: Our hotel didn't put the order through for room blocks. Can you imagine if we were having The Big White Wedding? I faint at the thought.

Hope your lives have been eventful.

Alie K

Damn those Canadians and their awesome toys...

2009-03-03T19:22:00.001-08:00

Not really. It's just not fair, though, that Canadians get awesome hockey toys in their happy meals or whatever and we get dinosaurs...

It is a really cute commercial, though. I love the tiny hockey players. "Oh, look! It's Holey the Goalie!" Haha!

My (current) new favorite thing

2009-02-17T15:05:00.000-08:00

Target: Women

It's been for freaking EVER!

2009-02-13T13:53:00.000-08:00

So, I'm sorry I haven't posted. i know I said I'd be better about it, and I haven't.

School: I'm getting used to having a three day school week (and a four day weekend). I am really enjoying all my classes, but I am worried about the fact that I haven't had a homework assignment yet.

Wedding: I'm just so over it. The planning, not the I'm getting married part. I have sent out all my invites and now it's just an RSVP waiting game... that, and I'm trying to not freak out over everything. Mainly my fiance's mother.

Crafting: I am working on a sweater from my brother and I'm over that, too. Knit, knit, knit, knit, purl, purl, all in the round, rinse, repeat. So I'm trying to teach myself to crochet. It's a slow process, but I just started half an hour ago. Give a girl a break! I'm also trying my hand at making jewelry. I figure, if I have enough desirable talents I can sell my stuff and support myself through college. Haha. Yeah, right.

Et cetera: I really miss writing. Going through English class reminds me how much I enjoy writing. Maybe I should take a class (eventually) about how to write poetry and short stories. Or I can just start writing online reviews for things no one cares about. We also bought a printer. Since I'm in school, we figured a laser printer would be a good investment. That, and Circuit City's going out of business, which sucks major monkey butt! They have excellent customer service and they go out of business?! What about B*** B**?! Their C.S. is shit! And they're doing fine?

Anything else? Hm... I think I've made a new friend, so that should cover (whatever number that is) in my 101.

Stay safe and have a lovely Valentines Day. (I'm hoping I get lots of chocolate!)

Alie K

Now I am REALLY never flying anywhere ever again!

2009-01-23T16:22:00.000-08:00

This is unbelievable. I found an article that is just such an astounding abuse of our civil liberties I can't even put it into words. I can't even sum up how insane this man and his wife's account is. (Just in case the link ever stops working, I am posting the post below. This is just evil. God Bless America!)

Coffee, Tea, or Should We Feel Your Pregnant Wife’s Breasts Before Throwing You in a Cell at the Airport and Then Lying About Why We Put You There?

by Nicholas Monahan

This morning I’ll be escorting my wife to the hospital, where the doctors will perform a caesarean section to remove our first child. She didn’t want to do it this way – neither of us did – but sometimes the Fates decide otherwise. The Fates or, in our case, government employees.

On the morning of October 26th Mary and I entered Portland International Airport, en route to the Las Vegas wedding of one of my best friends. Although we live in Los Angeles, we’d been in Oregon working on a film, and up to that point had had nothing but praise to shower on the city of Portland, a refreshing change of pace from our own suffocating metropolis.

At the security checkpoint I was led aside for the "inspection" that’s all the rage at airports these days. My shoes were removed. I was told to take off my sweater, then to fold over the waistband of my pants. My baseball hat, hastily jammed on my head at 5 AM, was removed and assiduously examined ("Anything could be in here, sir," I was told, after I asked what I could hide in a baseball hat. Yeah. Anything.) Soon I was standing on one foot, my arms stretched out, the other leg sticking out in front of me àla a DUI test. I began to get pissed off, as most normal people would. My anger increased when I realized that the newly knighted federal employees weren’t just examining me, but my 7½ months pregnant wife as well. I’d originally thought that I’d simply been randomly selected for the more excessive than normal search. You know, Number 50 or whatever. Apparently not though – it was both of us. These are your new threats, America: pregnant accountants and their sleepy husbands flying to weddings.

After some more grumbling on my part they eventually finished with me and I went to retrieve our luggage from the x-ray machine. Upon returning I found my wife sitting in a chair, crying. Mary rarely cries, and certainly not in public. When I asked her what was the matter, she tried to quell her tears and sobbed, "I’m sorry...it’s...they touched my breasts...and..." That’s all I heard. I marched up to the woman who’d been examining her and shouted, "What did you do to her?" Later I found out that in addition to touching her swollen breasts – to protect the American citizenry – the employee had asked that she lift up her shirt. Not behind a screen, not off to the side – no, right there, directly in front of the hundred or so passengers standing in line. And for you women who’ve been pregnant and worn maternity pants, you know how ridiculous those things look. "I felt like a clown," my wife told me later. "On display for all these people, with the cotton panel on my pants and my stomach sticking out. When I sat down I just lost my composure and began to cry. That’s when you walked up."

Of course when I say she "told me later," it’s because she wasn’t able to tell me at the time, because as soon as I demanded to know what the federal employee had done to make her cry, I was swarmed by Portland police officers. Instantly. Three of them, cinching my arms, locking me in handcuffs, and telling me I was under arrest. Now my wife really began to cry. As they led me away and she ran alongside, I implored her to calm down, to think of the baby, promising her that everything would turn out all right. She faded into the distance and I was shoved into an elevator, a cop holding each arm. After making me face the corner, the head honcho told that I was under arrest and that I wouldn’t be flying that day – that I was in fact a "menace."

It took me a while to regain my composure. I felt like I was one of those guys in The Gulag Archipelago who, because the proceedings all seem so unreal, doesn’t fully realize that he is in fact being arrested in a public place in front of crowds of people for...for what? I didn’t know what the crime was. Didn’t matter. Once upstairs, the officers made me remove my shoes and my hat and tossed me into a cell. Yes, your airports have prison cells, just like your amusement parks, train stations, universities, and national forests. Let freedom reign.

After a short time I received a visit from the arresting officer. "Mr. Monahan," he started, "Are you on drugs?"

Was this even real? "No, I’m not on drugs."

"Should you be?"

"What do you mean?"

"Should you be on any type of medication?"

"No."

"Then why’d you react that way back there?"

You see the thinking? You see what passes for reasoning among your domestic shock troops these days? Only "whackos" get angry over seeing the woman they’ve been with for ten years in tears because someone has touched her breasts. That kind of reaction – love, protection – it’s mind-boggling! "Mr. Monahan, are you on drugs?" His snide words rang inside my head. This is my wife, finally pregnant with our first child after months of failed attempts, after the depressing shock of the miscarriage last year, my wife who’d been walking on a cloud over having the opportunity to be a mother...and my anger is simply unfathomable to the guy standing in front of me, the guy who earns a living thanks to my taxes, the guy whose family I feed through my labor. What I did wasn’t normal. No, I reacted like a drug addict would’ve. I was so disgusted I felt like vomiting. But that was just the beginning.

An hour later, after I’d been gallantly assured by the officer that I wouldn’t be attending my friend’s wedding that day, I heard Mary’s voice outside my cell. The officer was speaking loudly, letting her know that he was planning on doing me a favor... which everyone knows is never a real favor. He wasn’t going to come over and help me work on my car or move some furniture. No, his "favor" was this: He’d decided not to charge me with a felony.

Think about that for a second. Rapes, car-jackings, murders, arsons – those are felonies. So is yelling in an airport now, apparently. I hadn’t realized, though I should have. Luckily, I was getting a favor, though. I was merely going to be slapped with a misdemeanor.

"Here’s your court date," he said as I was released from my cell. In addition, I was banned from Portland International for 90 days, and just in case I was thinking of coming over and hanging out around its perimeter, the officer gave me a map with the boundaries highlighted, sternly warning me against trespassing. Then he and a second officer escorted us off the grounds. Mary and I hurriedly drove two and a half hours in the rain to Seattle, where we eventually caught a flight to Vegas. But the officer was true to his word – we missed my friend’s wedding. The fact that he’d been in my own wedding party, the fact that a once in a lifetime event was stolen from us – well, who cares, right?

Upon our return to Portland (I’d had to fly into Seattle and drive back down), we immediately began contacting attorneys. We aren’t litigious people – we wanted no money. I’m not even sure what we fully wanted. An apology? A reprimand? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter though, because we couldn’t afford a lawyer, it turned out. $4,000 was the average figure bandied about as a retaining fee. Sorry, but I’ve got a new baby on the way. So we called the ACLU, figuring they existed for just such incidents as these. And they do apparently...but only if we were minorities. That’s what they told us.

In the meantime, I’d appealed my suspension from PDX. A week or so later I got a response from the Director of Aviation. After telling me how, in the aftermath of 9/11, most passengers not only accept additional airport screening but welcome it, he cut to the chase:

"After a review of the police report and my discussions with police staff, as well as a review of the TSA’s report on this incident, I concur with the officer’s decision to take you into custody and to issue a citation to you for disorderly conduct. That being said, because I also understand that you were upset and acted on your emotions, I am willing to lift the Airport Exclusion Order...."

Attached to this letter was the report the officer had filled out. I’d like to say I couldn’t believe it, but in a way, I could. It’s seemingly becoming the norm in America – lies and deliberate distortions on the part of those in power, no matter how much or how little power they actually wield.

The gist of his report was this: From the get go I wasn’t following the screener’s directions. I was "squinting my eyes" and talking to my wife in a "low, forced voice" while "excitedly swinging my arms." Twice I began to walk away from the screener, inhaling and exhaling forcefully. When I’d completed the physical exam, I walked to the luggage screening area, where a second screener took a pair of scissors from my suitcase. At this point I yelled, "What the %*&$% is going on? This is &*#&$%!" The officer, who’d already been called over by one of the screeners, became afraid for the TSA staff and the many travelers. He required the assistance of a second officer as he "struggled" to get me into handcuffs, then for "cover" called over a third as well. It was only at this point that my wife began to cry hysterically.

There was nothing poetic in my reaction to the arrest report. I didn’t crumple it in my fist and swear that justice would be served, promising to sacrifice my resources and time to see that it would. I simply stared. Clearly the officer didn’t have the guts to write down what had really happened. It might not look too good to see that stuff about the pregnant woman in tears because she’d been humiliated. Instead this was the official scenario being presented for the permanent record. It doesn’t even matter that it’s the most implausible sounding situation you can think of. "Hey, what the...godammit, they’re taking our scissors, honey!" Why didn’t he write in anything about a monkey wearing a fez?

True, the TSA staff had expropriated a pair of scissors from our toiletries kit – the story wasn’t entirely made up. Except that I’d been locked in airport jail at the time. I didn’t know anything about any scissors until Mary told me on our drive up to Seattle. They’d questioned her about them while I was in the bowels of the airport sitting in my cell.

So I wrote back, indignation and disgust flooding my brain.

"[W]hile I’m not sure, I’d guess that the entire incident is captured on video. Memory is imperfect on everyone’s part, but the footage won’t lie. I realize it might be procedurally difficult for you to view this, but if you could, I’d appreciate it. There’s no willful disregard of screening directions. No explosion over the discovery of a pair of scissors in a suitcase. No struggle to put handcuffs on. There’s a tired man, early in the morning, unhappily going through a rigorous procedure and then reacting to the tears of his pregnant wife."

Eventually we heard back from a different person, the guy in charge of the TSA airport screeners. One of his employees had made the damning statement about me exploding over her scissor discovery, and the officer had deftly incorporated that statement into his report. We asked the guy if he could find out why she’d said this – couldn’t she possibly be mistaken? "Oh, can’t do that, my hands are tied. It’s kind of like leading a witness – I could get in trouble, heh heh." Then what about the videotape? Why not watch that? That would exonerate me. "Oh, we destroy all video after three days."

Sure you do.

A few days later we heard from him again. He just wanted to inform us that he’d received corroboration of the officer’s report from the officer’s superior, a name we didn’t recognize. "But...he wasn’t even there," my wife said.

"Yeah, well, uh, he’s corroborated it though."

That’s how it works.

"Oh, and we did look at the videotape. Inconclusive."

But I thought it was destroyed?

On and on it went. Due to the tenacity of my wife in making phone calls and speaking with relevant persons, the "crime" was eventually lowered to a mere citation. Only she could have done that. I would’ve simply accepted what was being thrown at me, trumped up charges and all, simply because I’m wholly inadequate at performing the kowtow. There’s no way I could have contacted all the people Mary did and somehow pretend to be contrite. Besides, I speak in a low, forced voice, which doesn’t elicit sympathy. Just police suspicion.

Weeks later at the courthouse I listened to a young DA awkwardly read the charges against me – "Mr. Monahan...umm...shouted obscenities at the airport staff...umm... umm...oh, they took some scissors from his suitcase and he became...umm...abusive at this point." If I was reading about it in Kafka I might have found something vaguely amusing in all of it. But I wasn’t. I was there. Living it.

I entered a plea of nolo contendere, explaining to the judge that if I’d been a resident of Oregon, I would have definitely pled "Not Guilty." However, when that happens, your case automatically goes to a jury trial, and since I lived a thousand miles away, and was slated to return home in seven days, with a newborn due in a matter of weeks...you get the picture. "No Contest" it was. Judgment: $250 fine.

Did I feel happy? Only $250, right? No, I wasn’t happy. I don’t care if it’s twelve cents, that’s money pulled right out of my baby’s mouth and fed to a disgusting legal system that will use it to propagate more incidents like this. But at the very least it was over, right? Wrong.

When we returned to Los Angeles there was an envelope waiting for me from the court. Inside wasn’t a receipt for the money we’d paid. No, it was a letter telling me that what I actually owed was $309 – state assessed court costs, you know. Wouldn’t you think your taxes pay for that – the state putting you on trial? No, taxes are used to hire more cops like the officer, because with our rising criminal population – people like me – hey, your average citizen demands more and more "security."

Finally I reach the piece de resistance. The week before we’d gone to the airport my wife had had her regular pre-natal checkup. The child had settled into the proper head down position for birth, continuing the remarkable pregnancy she’d been having. We returned to Portland on Sunday. On Mary’s Monday appointment she was suddenly told, "Looks like your baby’s gone breech." When she later spoke with her midwives in Los Angeles, they wanted to know if she’d experienced any type of trauma recently, as this often makes a child flip. "As a matter of fact..." she began, recounting the story, explaining how the child inside of her was going absolutely crazy when she was crying as the police were leading me away through the crowd.

My wife had been planning a natural childbirth. She’d read dozens of books, meticulously researched everything, and had finally decided that this was the way for her. No drugs, no numbing of sensations – just that ultimate combination of brute pain and sheer joy that belongs exclusively to mothers. But my wife is also a first-time mother, so she has what is called an "untested" pelvis. Essentially this means that a breech birth is too dangerous to attempt, for both mother and child. Therefore, she’s now relegated to a c-section – hospital stay, epidural, catheter, fetal monitoring, stitches – everything she didn’t want. Her natural birth has become a surgery.

We’ve tried everything to turn that baby. Acupuncture, chiropractic techniques, underwater handstands, elephant walking, moxibustion, bending backwards over pillows, herbs, external manipulation – all to no avail. When I walked into the living room the other night and saw her plaintively cooing with a flashlight turned onto her stomach, yet another suggested technique, my heart almost broke. It’s breaking now as I write these words.

I can never prove that my child went breech because of what happened to us at the airport. But I’ll always believe it. Wrongly or rightly, I’ll forever think of how this man, the personification of this system, has affected the lives of my family and me. When my wife is sliced open, I’ll be thinking of him. When they remove her uterus from her abdomen and lay it on her stomach, I’ll be thinking of him. When I visit her and my child in the hospital instead of having them with me here in our home, I’ll be thinking of him. When I assist her to the bathroom while the incision heals internally, I’ll be thinking of him.

There are plenty of stories like this these days. I don’t know how many I’ve read where the writer describes some breach of civil liberties by employees of the state, then wraps it all up with a dire warning about what we as a nation are becoming, and how if we don’t put an end to it now, then we’re in for heaps of trouble. Well you know what? Nothing’s going to stop the inevitable. There’s no policy change that’s going to save us. There’s no election that’s going to put a halt to the onslaught of tyranny. It’s here already – this country has changed for the worse and will continue to change for the worse. There is now a division between the citizenry and the state. When that state is used as a tool against me, there is no longer any reason why I should owe any allegiance to that state.

And that’s the first thing that child of ours is going to learn.

December 21, 2002

Nick Monahan works in the film industry. He writes out of Los Angeles where he lives with his wife and as of December 18th, his beautiful new son.

New Year's Resolutions

2009-01-03T09:50:00.001-08:00

For the Montreal Canadiens. One of mine? I need to learn French...

Others of mine...

Use up all my stashed yarn that isn't in a tub.
Pass Statistics.
Pass Logic.
Get back to my 101 in 1001.
Eat more fruit.
Exercise more.

Winter Classic 2009

2009-01-01T13:54:00.000-08:00

Wow, it's been 2009 for only 14 hours and already we've seen a parade and the second Winter Classic. While I was watching said Winter Classic (at the amazing Wrigley Field) today, I thought to myself,
"Self, wouldn't it be a fantastic idea to have a Winter Classic Party the way people have Super Bowl and Stanley Cup Parties?"
"Yes, Self, that does sound like an amazing idea!"

So next year I shall have to have a Winter Classic Party at my home.

In other hockey news, Jason LaBarbara has been sent off to Vancouver. With both primary goaltenders on the Injured Reserve list, Vancouver has a minor league goalie and a goalie who hasn't been utilized much this season. Obviously, once Vancouver gets Luongo back in net, Cory Schneider will go back to Manitoba, but what will happen when Sanford returns? Will Vancouver do like the Kings did and demote LaBarbara to the AHL? I really like Jason LaBarbara and I think he could be a good goalie, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Also, this is the first I've ever seen a team having four goaltenders.

30 - Jason LaBarbera - 6' 3" - 225 - 18 Jan 1980 - 28 - Burnaby, BC, CAN
1 - Roberto Luongo - "C" - ** - 6' 3" - 205 - 4 Apr 1979 - 29 - Montreal, QC, CAN
41 - Curtis Sanford - ** - 5' 10" - 187 - 5 Oct 1979 - 29 - Owen Sound, ON, CAN
35 - Cory Schneider - 6' 2" - 195 - 18 Mar 1986 - 22 - Salem, MA, USA

**Injured Reserve

Last weekend, Micah & I were talking about how we wished Lego would bring back Pirate & Viking Legos, and low-and-behold, we found Pirate Legos when we went to the Lego store in Downtown Disney!! See?

I need to find me some Molson Canadian... and hockey commercials are the best.

2009 in 5...4...3...2...1....

2008-12-30T22:34:00.000-08:00

Currently loving: Elf, Christmas Story, Pumpkin Pie, Wassail, Hockey, Canada.

With the madness of Finals and Christmas over, I'm blogging to acknowledge the end of 2008. A very eventful year. I will leave you with this video and the wish that maybe this year will be better than the last.

"PLEASE DON'T BOMB NOBODY THIS HOLIDAY" - By The Dan Band - watch more funny videos

Have you heard the news? Bettie Page died.

2008-12-12T16:38:00.001-08:00

Yesterday, December 11, Pop Icon Betti Page died at the age of 85 in Los Angeles.

I hope offbeat people every where can recognize pop culture's great loss.

Thank you for your pioneering style. We will always remember the attire, the hair, the controversy, the pin-ups.

Rest in peace.

4/22/1923 - 12/11/08

In honor of Bettie, I shall style my hair for the new year and my wedding in honor of her memory.

Are you Effing kidding me?!

2008-12-12T08:13:00.000-08:00

Dolls Gone Wild
By Ruth Twentey

In case you haven't heard, or have been laying off the Barbie Web sites recently (uh-huh, suuure), there's controversy in the air—specifically, a blonde bird sporting black boots and gloves, fishnet stockings, and a shiny motorcycle jacket.
"S&M Barbie lashed by public" shouted a headline in the UK newspaper The Sun back in July, referring to Black Canary Barbie (or BCB as I've come to call her, for simplicity but also for the cheeky allusion to fashion giant BCBG). BCB is Mattel's newest incarnation in the long-standing (and posing and smiling) and ever-morphing Barbie franchise.

Chat rooms and blogs catching wind of the doll's product launch, in late October at Toys "R" Us and other retail outlets, lit up with indignant outrage. How dare Mattel market such a "tarty" Barbie to impressionable pre-adolescent girls? Most seemed to miss the doll's intended pop-culture connection, or at least missed the fine print on her page on BarbieCollector.com, which reads somewhat scandalously, "For the adult collector."

Never mind that there are adult collectors of Barbies. (Our apologies if you are one; and by the way, have you checked out the very real Showgirl Barbie and Tout de Suite Barbie?) In actuality, BCB is based on a DC Comics heroine with a somber back story and belt notches not for kinky liaisons, but for knocking off bad guys with the best of the Justice League. Her secret weapon is her "canary cry," with which she can stun humans and "bust" glass at will.

BCB does indeed look like she's headed for the roadhouse bar—perhaps for a pole dancing contest—or an audition for backup on Britney Spears' next tour. But is she really a grave threat to the moral welfare of young people?

Frankly, I wish she would swoop down and rescue our daughters (and sons for that matter) from the far more insidious and dead-serious challengers to the Barbie throne: the Bratz, whose heavy-handed makeup application rivals that of the late Tammy Faye Baker.

For of course no discussion of the depravity of modern youth due to plastic playthings can avoid a head-on collision with the Bratz, the self-proclaimed "only girls with a passion for fashion." With heavy-lidded expressions of disdain seemingly directed even toward their owners, Bratz are a symbol of everything gone awry in the world for some—and an astounding sales sensation for their manufacturer.
While parent company MGA Entertainment does not release sales figures for the Bratz dolls, some experts say that their success is readily reflected in Barbie's declining domestic sales—as well as in the Bratz's undeniable conquest of every marketing outlet available, from members-only chat rooms to full-length animated films.

Perhaps most tellingly, Barbie herself appears to have capitulated to the peer pressure to "prostitot" herself to a level she's never reached before. The Mattel offshoot Web site, barbiegirls.com, provides all the pouty-lipped, mall-based action marketed so effectively by Bratz. Underage-looking and with heads inflated to bobble size, these animated pint-sized Barbies have higher skirts and bare-r midriffs than their classical counterparts. They cultivate another exclusive world where cool, popular girls can eagerly display their catch phrases and skimpy clothing.
True, a chill wind blows across Planet Bratz: New developments from the real world could potentially deal a fatal blow to the entire Barbie-Bratz competition. After a nearly four-year trial in a California federal court, a jury found in early December that Bratz creator Carter Bryant breached a contract with Mattel and that MGA consequently infringed on Mattel copyright, from its first sale of dolls in 2001. In addition to hefty damages awarded (a reported $10 million for the infringement and up to $90 million for the breach), the U.S. District judge has banned the sale of every one of the 40 dolls in the Bratz line, effective "after the holidays."
But the verdict speaks only to which manufacturer owns the riches gained from Bratz sales. It reflects nothing about the nature of the demand for the dolls.

In a 2007 report, the American Psychological Association concluded that "the proliferation of sexualized images of girls and young women in advertising, merchandising, and media is harmful to girls' self-image and healthy development." This is no surprise to most parents. And yet sales of these dolls-gone-wild are skyrocketing. It seems the collective parenting purse is succumbing to a doll-marketing bonanza that has also gone wild.

As the parent of daughter who has received four Barbies and three Bratz dolls as well-meant gifts in the span of her four years, I've had that creepy "know-it-when-I see-it" feeling about these presents plenty of times. After the novelty of each toy wore off, my daughter went back to her stuffed animals and forgot about the Bratz and Barbies, after which they seem to have mysteriously "disappeared" from her toy chest.

Perhaps someday she'll find their message appealing, but I'm thankful it hasn't happened yet. Even with all the "girl power" and parent-power propaganda on both the Mattel and MGA sites, I'm just not buying it.

Ruth Twentey works and lives in Seattle with her husband and young daughter.

Now, I'm a total geek and I love comics, but even I know this is WAAAY too much for the Barbie crowd, because Black Canary is not as recognizable to mainstream pop culture the way Supergirl or Wonder Woman - both whom are also in Barbie form - are. Don't get me wrong, I love Barbie & Comic culture, so I totally want one.

What was that about Ikea having a Swedish Santa?!

2008-12-08T17:36:00.000-08:00

I was driving to Jo-ann's & Michael's for some holiday gift-craft buying when I heard an Ikea commercial on the radio. Nothing special, until they got to the part about getting a picture with their Swedish Santa. That has become my #1 thing to do this Christmas. I shall have to talk Micah into going this weekend. After I finish my last research paper. Stupid school. And we can make it our Xmas card next year. Our "First Official Christmas" as "husband and wife." You know, because the last four Christmases don't count...

It shall be a very crafty Christmas:
1 - Kitschmas tree (just need to locate olive-color fun fur)
2 - Colorado color-schemed beanies
1 - matching scarf
1 - grey scarf
1 - book safe
2 - "bohemian" necklaces
1 - dozen chocolate cookies
2 - "bohemian" scarves

Spent a lot of Sunday with Heather cutting out my dress & finding a pattern for her's. We also did some of her Xmas shopping. (Yarn for two Jayne hats. What could be better?)

Will need to put "Viking Knitting" materials on my Xmas list.

Happy Christmas...

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Did you vote Yes on Prop 8? Then sign this petition!!!

2008-12-04T13:19:00.000-08:00

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Prop 8: The Musical

2008-12-03T08:45:00.001-08:00

See more Jack Black videos at Funny or Die

Full cast credits for "Prop. 8: The Musical"

By Greg Hernandez on December 3, 2008 3:40 PM

(c/o http://www.insidesocal.com/)

The Funny or Die site states that the brilliant "Prop. 8: The Musical," which premiered online with a bang today, was "conceived and written (six weeks later than he shoulda) by-Marc Shaiman, directed and staged by: Adam Shankman. They also produced along with Mike Farah.

The cast (in order of appearance):

California Gays and The People That Love Them: Jordan Ballard, Margaret Cho, Barrett Foa, J.B. Ghuman, John Hill, Andy Richter, Maya Rudolph, Rashad Naylor, Nicole Parker

Proposition 8'ers and The People That Follow Them: Prop 8 Leader- John C. Reilly, Prop 8 Leader's #1 Wife- Allison Janney, Prop 8 Leader's #2 Wife- Kathy Najimy Riffing, Prop 8'er-Jenifer Lewis, A Preacher- Craig Robinson, Scary Catholic School Girls From Hell-Rashida Jones, Lake Bell, Sarah Chalke

The Frightened Villagers: Katharine "Kooks" Leonard, Seth Morris, Denise "Esi!" Piane, Lucian Piane, Richard Read, Seth Redford, Quinton Strack, Tate Taylor

Jesus Christ: Jack Black

A Very Smart Fellow: Neil Patrick Harris

Futurama. Yeah.

2008-11-21T19:25:00.000-08:00

I'm in vacation mode, what with a train ride to Colorado in less than two days...

Reasons CSI: NY is better than CSI: Miami

2008-11-19T18:03:00.000-08:00

In my book, anyway.

1. It stars Gary Sinise. (Effin' Lieutenant Dan!!!)
2. Eddie Cahill co-stars in it.
3. The stories are far-fetched, yet fun.
4. It doesn't take place in Florida.
5. It is sexier than CSI: Miami. (See #1 & #7.)
6. It featured the Suicide Girls.
7. It doesn't star this guy. (I just can't stand the way he talks!)

California Supreme Court agrees to consider challenges to Prop. 8

2008-11-19T14:33:00.000-08:00

The California Supreme Court agreed to consider challenges to Proposition 8, the voter-approved ballot measure that bans gay marriage in the state. But the court also said Prop. 8 must be enforced while it considers the challenges.

Yay for these people!!

2008-11-11T17:46:00.000-08:00

Report: Mormon Families Leave Church Over Prop 8
Written for the web by/Posted By: C. Johnson, Internet News Producer
SALT LAKE CITY, UT - There's backlash against the LDS church over Proposition 8. LDS members in Utah, even some entire families are leaving the church because of its opposition to gay marriage.
It isn't easy but Linda Stay is resigning from the LDS church and is doing so because the church opposes gay marriage - like the one her son Tyler is in.
"It's very clear to me that many, many people are resigning over this gay marriage issue and the church's involvement in it," said Andrew Callahan.
The last time Utah saw Callahan, he was delivering petitions to the LDS church.
But now, on Callahan's Web site there is a new section. It's reserved for those resigning from or leaving the LDS church.
And Callahan tells the story of one heartbroken woman in California.
"She doesn't want to be associated with the bigotry and she doesn't want, in any way, to be responsible for teaching the young children to be bigots," Callahan wrote.
Callahan estimated on his Web site he's heard from hundreds of resigned or resigning LDS members. This includes not just Stay but also nine other members of her family.
Callahan also said it includes his 16 year old daughter - but not yet him.
"I am disgusted as everyone else, but because they asked me to resign, I don't want them to feel they got what they wanted," he said.
Callahan's Web site also includes a link to something called mormonnomore.com. The site includes step by step instructions for leaving the LDS faith.
Callahan noted that since the Salt Lake Temple protest Friday, more than 200 LDS members on his Web site have decided to leave the church.
Because of the private nature of resignations, the LDS church says it is not commenting on this story.

We want more PR!! (Project Runway, that is.)

2008-11-10T07:25:00.000-08:00

A fan laments uncertainty of ‘Project Runway’
After five seasons, fate of reality show is unclear as legal battle rages on

By DIONNE WALKER
Associated Press Writer
updated 3:42 p.m. PT, Wed., Oct. 29, 2008

For five seasons "Project Runway" has been a midweek treat for fashion junkies like me, who tuned in faithfully, rapt in every stitch on the way to the New York Fashion Week finale and one designer's ultimate victory.

Now a legal fight between NBC Universal, parent to Bravo, and the Weinstein Co., the show's producers, threatens to give one of the best things to happen to the genre an undue snip, and leave style fans on the sewing room floor.

(TODAYshow.com is a joint venture between NBC Universal and Microsoft)
What will happen to this show where contestants are judged solely on their own creativity and skill? They don't get "life lines." They are not subjected to popular vote. They don't have to depend on alliances.

They just need the good nature and the guts to defend the piles of fabric, buttons and pins that they called their vision.

It's brought us some good times:

I still pine for season one winner Jay McCarroll's mini-dress interpretation of the Chrysler building, a silky belted number combining smoky grays, ribbon detailing and pinpoint geometric details to produce a dead-on interpretation of one of New York's most recognizable landmarks. If you're reading Jay, I need that in a petite!

The same season saw lovably over-the-top designer Austin Scarlett create perhaps the most memorable look of the series in a chic, wearable A-line dress made from, of all things, layers of dried corn husks.

Woven in with talent, of course, was drama.

Season two's quirky Santino Rice cemented a tradition of smart-allecky designers with his dead-on imitation of starched show mentor Tim Gunn. He was surpassed only by this season's resident villain Kenley Collins, whose hand-painted, pinup-inspired looks propelled her into the finals, teeth sucking and eye-rolling aside.

Last year's winner Christian Siriano earned the title for most acid-tongued of the series: He spent most of the season pronouncing his competitors' designs butt ugly, and recently tapped Leanne this season's Bryant Park winner by default, "Because everything else was not cute."

There were fights over the wrong-colored thread left carelessly lodged in communal sewing machines — the nerve! — and for good measure, tears, tears, tears. Who knew chiffon could be so tragic?

But scandals didn't get any bigger than Kara Saun's season one "shoegate," the last-minute debacle that resulted when Saun inexplicably tried to use high-end shoes she'd gotten for free in her finale show, a violation of the rules.

Saun ultimately tanked, the first in what would become a chain of black designers reaching the finals only to fall short of the finish line. Their losses culminated in the last-minute defeat of this season's Korto Momolu, and seemed to highlight a concern that's gotten increasing attention in recent years — that for black designers, perhaps even more than for black models, shattering fashion's glass ceiling remains elusive.

[Alie: Maybe now that we have a half-black man in the highest office in the land, this opinion will change.]

Whether Project Runway will launch another designer into the fashion elite remains to be seen.

A New York Supreme Court justice recently issued a preliminary injunction blocking a $150 million deal to take the show to Lifetime network until NBC's suit trying to stop the move is settled. The new season had been scheduled to start in January.

Meanwhile, Weinstein Co. has filed court papers alleging Bravo did not properly promote the show, according to The Hollywood Reporter.
For now, it leaves Project Runway without a home, and fans like me on pins and needles.

Prop 8 with 101 update.

2008-11-06T15:10:00.000-08:00

Now that Barack Obama is our president, it is insane to think that there are still people in this country who don't have fundamental rights! Proposition 8 - and equal marriage rights for all Californians - was brutally shot down earlier this week. As an individual voice of protest, I have joined an underground photographic blog movement. (Huzzah! I'm no 32!) If one photo is worth a thousand words, I hope mine will speak volumes.

I love Micah. He is my family, in every way. If anything were to happen to either of us while we are still not married, we wouldn't have any rights to each other, and it doesn't make sense to me that we wouldn't have those fundamental rights. That is why I voted No on Prop 8 two days ago, because EVERY Californian should be able to chose their family. Marriage isn't a sacred rite, it's a civil right.

Let's keep fighting for legal marriage equality.

If you would like to keep fighting for marriage EQUALITY, check out any of the following links...

http://offbeatbride.com/2008/11/let-freedom-ring#referrer
http://www.eatingoutloud.com/prop-8
http://www.diaryofamodernmatriarch.com/2008/11/let-freedom-ring.html
http://www.eqca.org/site/pp.asp?c=kuLRJ9MRKrH&b=4026385

In 101 in 1001 news, here are some of the photos I thought might be worth posting. (Let me know if you can't see them.)

Never
Never
Never
Give Up!

Barak Obama

2008-11-04T20:04:00.000-08:00

Is our 44th President. Suck it all you people who said we weren't ready for a black president! (NKR!!)

Yes we did!! I never thought I'd feel the way I do. This truly is a great day, but as Barack told us, we have a long way to go. I have had my faith and love of America restored in an instant... This is a day for all Americans, not black or white or Hispanic or Asian or young or old or rich or poor or gay or straight, but for ALL Americans. I'm so grateful that I was able to share this with two people I love. Our hope has been restored, and we will work to make our decision speak to the world. I never thought I'd be so proud to have voted.

Now all we have to do is wait. Wait for our new president to take office with the beautiful first and second families. Wait to see if California will support fundamental rights. Wait to see if the recession and war will end. But I don't think I've ever felt - oddly enough - blessed to be an American.

I don't know if or when this is really going to sink in, but OUR VOICE MATTERS!! This truly is an amazing day in history. I'm glad for the people I love who are still here to see this.

Si Se Puede! Yes We Can!

in 101 news...
31 - will post photos after standings on all California Props are posted.
33 - started first part
100 - done!!!

Ravelympics 2010

2008-10-31T15:18:00.000-07:00

I just discovered that - back in August - there was something called Ravelympics 2008 for the 2008 Summer Olympic Games!! For those who don't know, Ravelry "hosted" knit & crochet Olympics that were to coincide with the sports Olympics. "What an awesome idea!" I thought. "Too bad I missed them." Fortunately, they might have Winter 2010 Ravelympics to go with the 2010 Winter Olympics in beautiful Canada. I can't wait. I have a lot of time to plan, but I will participate even if Ravelry doesn't do it again. Or maybe just go with the Knit Olympics. (Must look into!) That is all for now. I love Canada. Don't forget to vote!

Now, for something completely different...

2008-10-29T18:20:00.000-07:00

One of the newest videos in the campaign.

Now, I'm exhausted and sick. Hope all is well.

Namaste,
Alison