Last night, in a quiet moment, I was sitting on the couch at a friend's house, and I heard, "Well, Jews overly-pity themselves because of the Nazis."

The girl who said it claimed that it was a joke, but as someone who frequently laughs at and even initiates Jew jokes all the time, this one really didn't seem funny. I've never had a problem with people telling me to my face that I have my big Jewish nose because air is free, and us Jews, well, we love anything that's free.

So, I decided not to start any drama, to let her know I was offended, and then to quietly leave with Joe, simply explaining that I wasn't interested in ringing in the New Year with her.
However, Joe went back in to get our things, and quickly explained to our friends what had happened.
We went home, celebrated together, and thought that everything would be okay in the morning.

However, when he went to go pick up his keys that he'd forgotten over there, he was told that it was all a joke, and that I was wrong, and I shouldn't be offended. None of our friends, including my best friend, were willing to say that she'd been in the wrong and that I had a reason to be offended. The best friend said that he jokes with his black girlfriend that he doesn't owe her anything just because he's white and she's black, and that it's the same thing, so I need to get over it.

But the truth is, I can tell when someone's joking. And even if I couldn't, saying that we over-pity ourselves because of the Nazis isn't fucking funny. I had thought that I could blow off the comments of one stupid bitch. What I can't seem to understand is why none of my friends (apart from my husband, of course) can understand why I'm upset. That hurts the most, and I can't see myself talking to any of them as long as I'm the one who needs to "learn to take a joke".

Joe tried talking to our friend, explaining that I was offended and felt that a blatantly racist comment like that shouldn't be tolerated, especially if someone is offended by it. He said that if the issue wasn't resolved, it could be the end of the friendship, but he wasn't taken seriously, and told that "it'll just blow over".

I feel completely betrayed by a group of friends that I've spent nearly every weekend with for the past three years. I would have thought that if one of us had a serious issue with something, it would be taken seriously. But apparently, that's not the case.

"Mr. Jerusalem. I have a small bomb bonded to the right side of my brain. If I give out Mr. Royce's location and/or phone number, the bomb will explode. He did this terrible thing to me precisely so that you could not trace him over the holiday period. Goodbye."

I am re-reading TRANSMETROPOLITAN and, even after having gotten an image from it stabbed into my flesh with ink-bearing needles, it is better than I remember.

Lately I've been feeling like I've got too much going on, and not enough time with which to accomplish anything.

I want to have a day of girlyness. The few female friends I have that I ever actually see all seem to have too much on their plates to come over, paint nails, do silly green mud facials and watch chick flicks. Kelsey's busy with her baby and grandma, Lucinda has her own set of friends and was never super "yaay makeup" to begin with. I don't really hear from Casey anymore, and Lisa is always too busy or attached to Pat.

Sigh. This sounds like a pity party more than anything else right now.

I think I'm going to have to go listen to Semi-Precious Weapons and finish reading Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (go read it right now if you haven't, Tom Robbins is one of those authors who uses language so joyfully that it's impossible not to love him and his silly storylines).

So, I've cleaned out my friends list.
It's nothing personal, but if I don't ever see or speak to you, or if we're no longer friends, I don't want to pretend that I'm interested in reading your posts.
If you think I've accidentally removed you, or wish that we were still friends, you can leave a comment.

That's all.

I got an e-mail from one of my professors yesterday with this subject line: "could you do me a favor?"

Apparently, he wants me to edit a philosophy paper he's submitting to a book. And it's not just for grammar, either. "If you find anything wrong with it, spelling mistakes, grammatical mistakes, lapses in reasoning, etc. let me know...  Also if you think it could be made better by explaining this or that, or if you can think of a funny joke to stick in somewhere, let me know that too."

As pleased as I am to be asked, it's a very strange feeling to be treated like a peer by someone who is grading you.

Ryvenna: For those nights when you wake up and realize you're no longer in your bed.
Kenny: I need more nights like that.
Ryvenna: And then you realize you're in Karl's.
Kenny: That might be preferable, Karl's nice and cuddly.
Karl: Uhhh.....

    This is last day of my six-week summer session, and I can't wait for it to be completely over. I'm totally wiped out, and I wish I had, knowing Joe was having surgery, just sucked it up and decided to stay at Ohlone another semester and not taken summer classes. I feel like a pretty major dick, leaving him home alone a few days after the fact, even if it's only for a few hours.

Tomorrow is Joe's birthday, but we're keeping it low-key since he's still recovering from surgery.

    My sister is coming to stay the weekend because she has kidney stones, but my mom feels that it's more important to go spend the weekend with her boyfriend. It's cool having the siblings around now that they're like 16-17ish, but I can't believe my mom is leaving when Annie's in some serious pain.

Also, Jenni (my sister-in-law) should be coming by in the next few weeks, and so should Jeff Jackson, so that's pretty exciting.

    And I'm working Faire again this year! At least, I hope so. (I did get a staffing-type e-mail from Foo, so I'm assuming that's a yes.) I just really, really need to make/buy a bodice that fits a little better. I might try asking Lisa to help me make one that sits closer to my hips and fits more like a corset but still counts as a bodice. That would make life a lot easier for six weekends. I'm hoping that I'll actually learn to do my homework the day it's assigned and not have any to do in the evenings instead of partying at Faire, but I might, since I'm taking eight or nine classes this coming semester.

Talk to me, people. Tell me about your day.

Joe's out of surgery already. It took about two hours, and everything went well. He's in the recovery room for about another hour, hour and a half, so I haven't gotten to see him yet, but I will soon.

They're keeping him (and therefore,me) overnight, but after that he just needs some rest.
Anyone interested in any updates from here can text me.

I don't know about any of you, but I watched Obama's speech on race.
By the end, I had tears streaming down my face.

Some may argue that he's just great at speaking, but I don't think you can fake those words. Not with the sincerity that was clear in his voice. If you haven't seen it, it's well worth watching. I honestly believe that some of those words may become as immortal as any other that we as Americans hold dear.

I have been a supporter of his from the beginning. At first, it was simply because I didn't agree with Clinton's policies and secrecy, and I didn't feel that McCain was what we need at this time. Over time, I have become a fervent believer in his campaign. I feel that in a nation under Obama, we could possibly begin to have a reason for patriotism again. I want to feel pride in being an American. I want to know that our place in the world is not that of a nation of oppressors, but as a nation of tolerance, a nation of peace.

Whatever your political affiliation, please, listen to his speech.

This is what happens every time I go to feed the kitties.

Ryvenna: Pours out dry food into kitty bowls.
Hayaji: "Food! Nom nom nom."
Atusko: "What is this? I don't like this."
Ryvenna: "This is the same dry food you get almost every day."
Atusko: "No. I hate it. Go away."
Ryvenna: Picks up kitty, and puts her in front of food bowl.
Atsuko: "Food! Nom nom nom."

no i don't think my cats actually talk to me shut up.

If anyone knows someone looking for a roommate in the East Bay, PLEASE let me know.

Joe and I had a friend of his lined up to move with us, but his friend turned out to be totally unreliable, so the two of us are COMPLETELY screwed.

Most of the apartments we've been looking at in Fremont are about $1600 for two bedrooms. Joe and I were thinking of taking whatever "master" bedroom for about $875, leaving someone else with $725 in rent, and we'd split utilities into thirds.

Joe and I need to move about a month from now, and if we don't find a roommate, we'll have to move in with my grandparents in San Jose, which would absolutely SUCK.

Please, if any of you are moving, have a friend who's moving, or have a friend of a friend of a friend who think they might be moving, PLEASE let me know.

I just got the best birthday present EVER, and I got to open it almost two weeks early!

Joe bought me a Kindle, and put some book-download-buying money in my Amazon account (but I was sneaky and spent some of it on buying him a thank-you present!) and I am totally thrilled!

Thank you, honeybee!

It's officially three weeks until I am 21!

If you want to come and help me celebrate, drop me a line, we'll be celebrating on my birthday (Saturday, Feb. 23rd) either in Fremont, the city, or (possibly) in San Mateo. It'll probably come down to a vote on what's most convenient for all involved.

I hope I see a lot of friends then!

I feel like a lot of my friends....aren't.

And I thought I'd gotten over the feeling, but it sucks when you call people and they either don't call you back or just don't ever have any time for you.

Beware, insane mother up ahead.

A bit of backstory. As some of you may know, my mother has been dating a man named Michael for a number of years. He is enough of a dick that (though I left home at fourteen and had only moved in with my mother well into sixteen) I promptly moved out at seventeen so as to avoid living another day with him. I don't do well around macho egomaniacs.

Some time ago, my mother started seeing someone else, and decided to tell Michael to move out. Seeing as he hadn't had a job in six years or contributed to the household in any way, my mother felt she had the right to do this whenever the hell she felt like it.

Flash forward a month later, he still lives there. He, like a lump of rock, simply will not leave. My mother is Jewish, but sort of pretends she isn't. I grew up with an occasionally religious father, so things like Hannukah and High Holy Days are kind of a big deal to me. My mother liked her second husband and children better, so she only celebrates Christmas, and will only give Christmas presents to her Jewish daughter.

I try to be nice, and agree to celebrate Christmas (in the commercial "gimme shit I will forget about tomorrow" sense of the holiday) with her. I ask if I should buy something for Michael, since he still lives with her.

This is where things get ridiculous.

My mother decided to inform me that Christmas will take place in my apartment. And that I, her Jewish daughter, need not only host, but also cook for them all. THEN, she informs me what I will be making them for dinner. Then she pretends to be heartbroken that we do not own a DVD of A Christmas Story and tells me it's traditional that she and the kids watch it on Christmas eve.

Fine, whatever. I spent the fucking money we don't have to feed my tactless mother, since my brother and sister didn't do anything wrong, wrapped a ton of presents, and did all the prep work for dinner.

So finally, she calls me today and deigns to tell me that she also be arriving an hour and a half early.

Merry Christmas, folks.

I hope everyone reading this is having a happy holiday season.

Joe's been home a few days and we've done almost nothing but veg out and watch lots of Babylon 5.
As silly as this may sound, I'm living in the happiest time of my life.

Loving your husband is a pretty nice feeling.

Yesterday, the husband and I put glow in the dark stars around our bedroom door and closet.

♥

Sometimes, little things like cheapy decorations and the sight of my husband bent over little teeny-tiny plastic stars makes me happy beyond belief.

And at the risk of sounding like a ten year old: it looks pretty cool with all the lights off.

I want to meet someone who says that "The Science of Sleep" is their favorite movie. Maybe it's the sickness talking, but this movie is seriously nonsensical. Not in the whimsical "Alice in Wonderland" way, but in the way that you're not sure what the plot is, or what's going on.

Seriously, call me and explain the point of this movie to me.

"Close your eyes. Open your heart." More like close your eyes, because any dream you have will make more sense than this movie.

So, I don't normally post here much, but some shitty things have happened recently.

One, I got my wallet stolen about two weeks ago. Nevermind the hundreds of dollars worth of unspent wedding giftcards, or the five hundred dollars in cash (that I was taking to the bank that day... I also had my ID, bank/credit cards, and social security cards. Also, a ton of little things that made me smile from friends.

This happened not two weeks ago.

TODAY, Joe got all the Transformers he had at work stolen from him- about $400 worth.

What the fuck is wrong with the world?

Joe picked up "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" at a Target for me yesterday. Even though I'd read some spoilers, I still really enjoyed it. I felt kind of silly being excited to read it, but I read the first book when I was only eleven. It's nice to see a series to it's finish.