Queiry

Note: this post is, again, political in nature. 

Just out of curiosity, when did it become a bad thing for politicians to be well educated? We, as the American voting public, are such a grouping of contradictions it drives me insane. We would like our politicians to be educated, but not TOO educated. Popular, but not TOO popular. If I hear one more commentator mention that Obama needs to "learn to speak to the common man" I am going to scream. For the record, the common man is smart enough to understand the big, important words like economy, education, and war. 

Network TV News Sucks

That's it. The title says it all. I am so annoyed at their coverage of the convention. I understand the idea that the Networks don't want to do a democratic infomercial.  But, SERIOUSLY! Could you quit speaking over everyone that is at the podium? Could let us listen so that perhaps, just perhaps we are able to make our own decisions? No, Diana Sawyer and Charlie Gibson want to make sure we hear their opinion. I am giving up and watching PBS. God Bless the silence of Jim Lehrer.  And as a postscript, as a member of a family that has suffered the effects of a brain tumor, how great did Ted Kennedy look? They may have propped him up with drugs, but who cares?  I am so very pleased that he was present. I may not be a huge Ted fan, but I was happy he was there and he spoke. 

A Skeptical Weekend

I had a great weekend, spent mostly with people that I feel I don't get to spend nearly enough time with--Laura and Chris. With, of course, the addition of friend via facebook, Jason.  On Friday night I attended Drinking Skeptically at The Library. First of all, it should be noted that I despise the South Side on a weekend. Parking is a general disaster in the first place, let alone adding the massive influx of people whom trek there on a Friday night.  So, after parking about three blocks back, I finally arrived.  It was a fun night of chat. I was exhausted from work, so my contribution was mostly to sit and listen. But, what things to listen to? I was surrounded by such interesting and amusing conversation, I just absorbed.  I did participate in a work related discussion about parental apathy. And by 10:45 I was ready to crawl under the table and sleep. Thankfully, Jason "dumped" a glass of water into my lap and woke me up enough to drive home. Saturday was spent at Bangkok Balcony in Squirrel Hill. I had never eaten Thai food, and it was lovely.  Some chicken pad Thai and fresh rolls(yummy, yummy). Chris was very helpful as far as choices and his suggestions (and sarcastic comments) were much appreciated.  After, I went to Laura's apartment and yapped until midnight with Laura (and Jason who was visiting with his computer). It amazes me that she and I are about 9 years apart in age, and yet many of our experiences were the same.  It was a wonderful time.  Onward to the work week! 

Things I Love

This post will have nothing to do with the people I love. The people I love know that I love them, so to blog about it would be redundant (this won't stop me around the holidays). So let's cover the things I love. The things that bring me joy in ways that generally aren't possible for inanimate objects. Let us begin:

1.  Project Runway--I love this show. It has taught me terms like ruching, plait, and gusset. It also makes me feel like I am in the know when I agree with Michael Kors that a design looks "slutty, slutty, slutty". Happiness.

2.  Music from TV Commercials--I am one of the first of my friends to hunt up any blurb of music I hear while someone tries to shill toilet paper. To wit:   I  bought the song The Story by Brandi Carlile. Why? It's in a GMC commercial airing during the Olympics. 

3.  Apple computers--yep, I'm that girl. I love a good Apple. I used to have a delightful little IBM laptop. Nice, but I could take it or leave it. And then I met Apple. And now I'm committed. 

4.  YouTube--I have watched a ridiculous number of videos on YouTube.  It was a minor obsession that has now turned into a daily check of anything "new on the tube".  I've watched 1,123 videos. Time I'll never get back. That's okay. 

5.  Books--broad but true. If I find a book I love I will read it over and over again. It truly makes me happy to revisit old favorites and remember why I love them. Books like Anne of Green Gables, Rebecca, Jane Eyre, and The Secret Garden never leave my shelves. And opening them is like taking a call from an old friend. Yes, I know how it will end. But it doesn't make the ride any less interesting. 

So, five things that I love. And now I leave it to anyone who might be reading this:  tell me what you love. Whatever brings you joy and happiness. Share. 

                                              

Hey Ya! Charlie Brown Style

Since my last blog was a bit of a downer, I am now posting my all time favorite make-me-smile video from youtube. Enjoy.

Hiding

I spent a week (weekend included) hiding. Not in a literal sense. I went to work. I went out. But this whole week I felt like I was emotionally hiding. And to be frank, I still feel like it. I'm not sure why. I can't even seem to put my finger on it. Perhaps it has something to do with cleaning out my father's office. It's not an office in a traditional, leave-it-to-beaver sense. It used to be the guest room until we turned it into an office when Dad started to work at home. I took on this project on my own. My mother is not completely ready to help with this yet. So I sat there in his chair and looked at what seems like a monumental task before me.  And trust me, it is monumental. I come by my habit for collecting crap honestly.  His was just different. He saved every manual from every piece of equipment that has passed thru this house.  He (apparently) has saved and boxed EVERY CHECK HE HAS EVER WRITTEN. There was a time in Bethel Park when cable cost 6 dollars a month. Granted, it was five channels--but imagine. And we have the check to prove it. Lots of them, in fact. I miss him. But in ways that were unfathomable to me when he first died. I spoke to someone who also lost their dad and she said "I used to think it was trite when some one said I think of him/her every day. Now I know better".  And now I know better, too. And I wish I didn't.  Guess I put my finger on why I was hiding.  Now it's time to decide to take my head out of the sand. And start shredding checks from 1976. 

Zapped!

I am now discovering that blogging is addictive. Almost frighteningly so.  One can talk about anything on their mind. I think I am going to have to learn to modulate myself.  Venting my spleen one day might feel good, but upon a re-read I may appalled at what I have placed on the web.  Anyway, as my grandma used to say, let's throw one to see if it sticks. This post is going to be a little more politically tinged than I plan on writing. I keep hearing on the news about a local school district that is in talks to give the school guards tasers to help with "major discipline issues". My gut reaction? NO! NONONONONONO! Here's why. I am not in favor of school guards carrying guns. And I feel like something should help people out who work in schools.  I'm not stupid. I know how much school has changed since I was there.  Our biggest problems were a few fights a week and a group of people smoking pot between building 2 and 3. The guards, Mike and Sue, were people to bum smokes off of & would check your hall pass.  In my head, I am trying to imagine them armed. Nope, can't get there. And school now is scary as hell. Guns, fights, heroin, and that's not even the tip of that fabled iceberg. Now, having made a sound argument for them TO have tasers, let me try to explain my wholly irrational fears.  I have anther image in my head. An image of a security guard who gets a little nervous when the slouchy, emo kid coming down the hall is wearing a trench coat.  He starts to sweat and the kid, who is now being stared at, starts to sweat too. The guard decides, better safe than sorry. And zaps him.  And that is now the calling cry of every guard who chooses to tase first. Better safe than sorry. Other visions include a guard with a god complex. Or a fight breaks out and someone grabs the taser from the guard and now we've got a good time on our hands.  Let the lawsuits fall where they may.  Look,  I understand that there must be an answer somewhere. I am just completely unconvinced that tasers are it.  So, let's discuss. And next time we are totally back to fluff. To wit, I am intrigued by the Coldplay video for Viva la Vida. Did Chris Martin have his teeth done or is it Photoshop? Either way they look like Chiclets. See? Light. Fluffy. 

The Duckie-Dobbler Connundrum

Every girl who grew up in the 80's wants one thing out of a relationship. A "Duckie" or a "Lloyd Dobbler".  Someone who will burst into the room and lip-sync Otis Redding. Or stand in front of our homes with a boom box. It is only later in life that we realize that this person does not exist. There is no Duckie. And the guys I have met who say "oh that was me in high school"--well you aren't remembering things correctly either.  In the same way that I was never a strong enough person to stand out the way Molly Ringwald did,  you did not walk around the cafetorium in your hipster jive.  Duckie was a dream. And Molly even dumped him at the prom in her homemade dress for Blaine.  And don't forget Steff, an exceptionally hot James Spader in a white suit, who has bitter tirades that hide a yen for the un-traditional girl.  And these films are what an entire generation of girls hitched their star to, the oft hoped for "secret truth" of popular people.  So, now what? Many guys tell me to give up. "It's just the movies". Of course you can tell me to get my head out of films and back into reality.  However, how many guys can tell me that they haven't fantasized about Leia in a gold bikini or Sandy in black pleather pants? Thought so.  

My first...

This is my first true attempt at blogging. I've never understood the need to lay my life out there on the web.  An intro seems necessary.  I live in a suburb just outside of Pittsburgh. Hence the title of this blog. Life as a Yinzer. For those who may read this and not get the reference, I shall explain. A "yinzer" is one of many ways to describe a Pittsburgher. It's usually someone who has a heavy Pittsburgh accent. We tend to speak our own language. There was a time that I did all I could to seperate myself from Pittsburgh. Looking back on that, I'm not sure why. As an adult, I'm now rather proud to be from here. I'm not saying that we don't have our flaws. Oh we do. And I could list them. In another blog, I may. But, we have lots to be proud of. And I notice that we work almost daily to instill that pride in the kids at work. We cheer our sports teams. We talk about famous folks who claim Pittsburgh as home.  We explain the rich history of our area.   And strangely enough we teach them our little language choices.  Words that will get us stared at later in life. Words like "red-up", "pop", "gumband".  We will always want our ham chipped (not shaved). We will wonder why there are no french fries on our salad in New York.  We will be dismayed at the lack of Iron City on tap in Florida.  We are yinzers. We are Pittsburgh.