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A journal of the trials, tribulations, and triumphs in the life of a woman in the 21st century.

Last Updated : Thursday, August 23, 2001 09:59:16 PM -0500

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Monday, August 20, 2001

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My husband forgot to upload our posts last night. So, if you are checking, yes, there is a post for Sunday, August 19.

For some reason, tonight my children decided to try to name a potential sibling. Jack's suggestion was "Boom Boom". Rhiannon seemed hung up on names that were variations on Christine. None of the names found favor with the adults in the family. Especially since it is not a sure bet that there will be any further Dominik additions.

NBC News had a story on over the weekend that is a genuinely good idea. In the Dallas area, when a small child is reported missing, the Emergency Broadcast System is activated and all the radio and television stations broadcast descriptions of the child and who they were last seen with. This system has been credited with the return of 16 children by abductors who go nervous after hearing the broadcasts or who were spotted by citizens who had seen the missing child. A few other cities have also implemented this system. I hope Minneapolis/St. Paul will do so soon.

Sorry, I haven't been sleeping well so this post will be short. Too much stress.

(ed - and believe it or not, I'm not the primary cause of it. Neither are the kids! -- jd.)

Tuesday, August 21, 2001

Well. How dare he! My husband blew me off. I, the light of his life, his reason for being, his beloved, called him to tell him about the cute socks I picked up from Marshall Field's today to go with Jack's new suit. We, of course, needed to discuss which pair would best complement Jack's cream and khaki attire for the upcoming wedding. (Rhiannon, naturally, does not need these discussions, as she properly understands the import of such choices and now makes them herself, in consultation with her dear mother, of course.) Does the man not realize how terribly important it is for the child to be properly dressed and color coordinated? (Probably not considering he was going to sent the kid to school one day in a purple shirt and red shorts before I put a stop to that evil deed. SHUDDER.) Gentle reader, I am sure you understand the import of whether or not my four year old son wears tan dress socks with polka dots or tan socks with a very small argyle-type pattern or black dress socks with his khaki pants and black dress shoes. And he wanted no part of this discussion. He was too busy doing work of all things. Sheese. What do I expect from the man. Really.

(ed - <slaps forehead> ... <sighs deeply> ... growls "SOCKS" ... Moving on -- jd.)

Ooooohhhh, my day just gets better. Jesse Helms is expected to announce his retirement from the Senate tomorrow. Oh happy day. Happy happy joy joy!!! This is a man who used bigotry and divisiveness without apology to achieve his political ends. He has called for quarantining people with AIDS. He referred to AIDS prevention programs as “thinly veiled attempts to restructure values of American families in favor of the homosexual lifestyle.” He led a month-long filibuster in the Senate in an attempt to stall passage a law establishing a holiday to honor Martin Luther King, referring to King as a Marxist. He was instrumental in the withholding of US dues from the UN and has generally opposed any move toward global cooperation, which he sees as invasive of American sovereignty. He has pushed the support of anti-communist forces world-wide, despite appalling human rights violations committed by some of the supposedly pro-democracy revolutionaries groups, such as the 80's government of El Salvador with it's death squads and the anti-Sandinesta forces in Nicaragua. He has obstructed the passage of presidential appointees (under both Clinton and Bush), not because he objected to the nominee, but in order to be able to make changes he wanted to other business pending before the Senate. In short, Jesse Helms is the personification of everything that is wrong with American politics. I am soooo very happy to see him gone. The only drawback will be for some of the liberal groups who used the spectre of Jesse Helms to raise funds.

Wednesday, August 22, 2001

Thursday, August 23, 2001

I am something of a masochist. I come by this tendency naturally. My mother's family is Irish. An Irishman is not truly happy unless he has something to piss moan whine and wail about. And lift a pint too. Between the wars with the English, the Scots, and of course, themselves, the Irish have ensured they have a never-ending supply of masochistic pleasures. On a personal level, each and every Irish family is required to have a black sheep. Every Irish mother must be able to say "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, did ye hear what young Sean (insert whatever name here) has gone and done this time." It's tradition. Although the Irish have a reputation of being emotional, there are only certain emotions that are acceptable to show. Anger, joy, laughter, but no self-pity. The Irish are a "pick yourself up by your own bootstraps" kind of people.

Then, on my father's side there is Chicago. This is where my true training in masochistic pleasures came. For, you see, my father was a Bears fan. Every Sunday during football season, my father would pull his recliner into the middle of the living room to sit in front of the television and watch his beloved Bears, playing a game laughingly referred to as football. Being as this was the 70's, they were awful. They were the bottom of the NFC Central each and every season. The only bright spot on the team was a fellow they drafted in 1975 named Walter Payton. Payton ran with the grace of a dancer, leaping over defenders like they were cracks in a sidewalk, shaking of tackles like a dog shakes water off his back. He was something to see. Dad started tracking Payton's yardage every game, explaining to me that rushing yards only counted when he ran with the ball, never when it was passed to him. He kept a notebook, filled with each game's yardage. By 1985, the team had actually become good enough to win the Super Bowl (a feat the Vikings have never quite accomplished, thank you very much.) However, after that, the team promptly went back into the toilet. Really, the only thing you can say for the Bears some seasons is, well, they may not win, but they sure do make the winning team pay dearly for the privilege of beating 'em. Now that is masochism. As if that weren't enough, Dad rooted for the Cubbies too. But the Bears were his true love, the only sports team that could have him literally screaming at the television every Sunday. He'd even start rooting for the other team, they'd tick him off so much with their ineptitude. But the next weekend, there he was, back in front of the TV, watching his team.

Why does this come up? Well, recently I have been accused of being beyond a pessimist. Of taking pleasure in delving into the unpleasant, expecting the worst, planning for it, and being disgruntled when life gives me lemonade. As you can see, I come by this tendency quite naturally. Oh, and by the way, I still root for the Bears.

Well, tomorrow morning bright and early we head out to South Dakota. A 5 1/2 hour trip through some of the flattest land you can image. I swear to you, God stamped his foot out there. It is a long long trip.

Friday, August 24, 2001

No post today. Traveling to South Dakota for a wedding.

Saturday, August 25, 2001

No post today, in South Dakota for a wedding.

Sunday, August 26, 2001

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Copyright © 2001 Ann Dominik. All rights reserved. Complaints about the technical details of this page can be directed to the abused geek who takes care of it for me, and is grossly underpaid for what he does, he thinks. No reproduction without written permission. The opinions and content of this site are my own, and not the responsibility of this site's host, my employer, my pets, my parents or anyone else you may care to blame. Please respect my opinions and I will do the same for you. I may on occasion publish e-mail to me; if you do not wish your mail to be published, please write CONFIDENTIAL or DO NOT PUBLISH at the top of the e-mail. If you would prefer to remain anonymous, please note that as well. If you're incapable of reasoned civilized discourse but feel compelled to correspond with me, I'll be happy to filter your mail out after a few choice comments regarding your ancestors, upbringing, and the likelihood of your family tree not