Friday Flotsam. Again.

Well, this morning my mother listened to the radio interview I taped earlier this week and she said I sounded just fine. It must be true, then--my mother is undoubtedly completely objective and impartial when it comes to such things, right? I have to do an interview this afternoon with the theatre reporter from the newspaper, and I'm sure I will be stunningly eloquent and articulate, since there will not be actual aural evidence to the contrary. And then I'm sure she will completely misquote me, and no one will believe how stunningly eloquent I truly was. Sigh.

Omigosh, I just went to the Bravo website (in order to prove to myself that I hadn't just fallen asleep on the couch and dreamed up "Shear Genius," which I keep wanting to call "Shear Madness," by the way, and which I think would most likely be a much more appropriate title) and discovered that the host of "Shear Genius" is none other than Charlie's Angel Jaclyn Smith, looking like she hasn't aged a day. Bitch.

I'm reading Moby Dick. No, really. I thought I was re-reading Moby Dick, sparked by a discussion in the comments over at stefanie-says (sorry, no link--Blogger is refusing to insert it for some reason, and I'm too tired to fight) a few days ago, but I realized soon after I started that despite having OWNED the book for many years, I apparently never got around to reading it. I can't say we've started off like gangbusters, Ishmael and I, but it's not the most painful reading ever (for me, that's Dickens), and I have hopes of finishing it, checking it off my "great books" list and never cracking the spine again. But I was struck by something near the beginning. Ishmael is pondering his place in the grand scheme of things--here's the part that struck me:

"And, doubtless, my going on this whaling voyage, formed part of the grand programme of Providence that was drawn up a long time ago. It came in as a sort of brief interlude and solo between more extensive performances. I take it that this part of the bill must have run something like this:

"Grand Contested Election for the Presidency of the

United States.

"WHALING VOYAGE BY ONE ISHMAEL.

"BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Well, as they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same. Of course, I tried to think of some dramatic event in my life that I might sandwich between our own "grand contested election" in 2000, and the invasion of Afghanistan in 2001, but I didn't come up with anything notable. Nothing akin to a whaling voyage, at any point. Though certainly if whales had been involved, it would have been in the capacity of reverently watching them, as opposed to spearing them with harpoons. Ahem. Moving on.

I know you'll all be glad to hear that I have an appointment early next week to get my bad haircut "tweaked." Please pray for me.

For those of you interested in such things--McBeady the stray tomcat is now quite fond of head and belly rubs, and is a complete whore for a chin scratch. If only it were so easy to get human males to love me! (And, unlike with McBeady, I promise I really don't go around talking about my desire to cut off their balls. Not that I even have such a desire. That came out wrong! I prefer for human males to have their balls. Okay, shutting up now.)

Veering slightly into the political arena, I must say that, even though I am far from making up my mind about which Democratic candidate to vote for in the primaries, I am really quite sad to hear about the return of Elizabeth Edwards' cancer. I'm glad John is continuing his campaign, since it really seems like a joint decision between the two of them, and I wish her the best in her ongoing treatment. I can't even imagine how devastating it must be for a mother of small children to be told that she has "incurable, though treatable" cancer, and only a 20% chance of living five more years. She seems like a tough, cool chick, though. Give the cancer hell, Elizabeth!

Okay, now that I've veered slightly into politics, I'm going to stay here for a moment. Stop reading now if you're not interested in my viewpoint on exit strategies for this mess in Iraq. I won't blame you a bit--unqualified political viewpoints being a dime a dozen. But here's how I see it--we are going to have to set a timeline for withdrawal, like it or not. Yes, we owe the Iraqis something, having invaded their country and destroyed much of their infrastructure, but...imagine this scenario, if you will. You're in school, and one day the teacher says to you, "I'm assigning a class project. It's going to be very difficult, it's going to involve a great deal of sacrifice and compromise on your parts, you're going to have to work closely with people you may not like, but it's very important--in fact, it will effect the rest of your school career. No due date, though, you all just get together and let me know when you're ready to turn it in." Would that assignment EVER have been turned in? Hell, no. And I think it's the same with the Iraqis--without some external motivation, I don't think they'll ever feel "ready." I can't blame them, they're in a helluva sticky situation, but we can't stay there forever, and (in my opinion) our presence is in many ways making the situation worse. Does that analogy make sense to anyone but me?

Okay, okay, enough rambling. Happy weekend, everyone!