Clearing out the Belly Lint

Photo credit: Photo by sheeshoo on Flickr

I generally stay away from posting about news, for several reasons:

1. This blog was designed for the purposes of gazing at my own lovely and fascinating navel. Why venture outside the bounds of my beautiful belly lint, unless news stories reflect on said belly lint?
2. There are two sides to every story, and I hesitate to chime in on matters I know only snippets of from news stories. (Unless they involve diagnosing celebrities I know next to nothing about with addictions or a history of abuse. That, my friends, is easy, and I do jump all over it.)
   
3. There are tons of bloggers out there who do a great job already of dissecting and parsing the news.
   
4. I ruminate like a big cow, chewing and chewing on ideas. By the time my mind is ready to spit out its nuggets of wisdom for you, the story is dead and gone. (See: Eliot Spitzer.)

But I've decided to blog about this story anyway. Just let me suck on this cud of mine for a few more hours. Ok?

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My Parenting Hits a New Low (in Haiku)

Breakfast requested:
Eggs and cheese, grits, toast and jam
for my baby girl.

"Ah, that's good," I think.
"Eggs for protein, wheat toast carbs
and jam counts as fruit."

"NO!" screams baby girl
as I take jam from the fridge,
"I just want butter!"

Ignoring the tone,
I consider the substance
of girlie's request.

If I don't serve jam
I should have her eat some fruit.
But what should it be?

"I want some pink milk."
My brain thinks "Yes. Strawberry!
that's a fruit serving!"

Yep, now strawberry
artificial flavoring
counts as eating fruit.

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Calling all Writers!

Photo credit: Photo by cindiann on Flickr

I've been reading marta's blog for a while, where she posts updates on the novel she's working on. And I've been wondering when I would ever be able to get a chance to read what she's posted of it.

But then I realized: I'm going to Long Vowels' wedding next week. And since Vowels lives far enough from me to require a plane flight, I'll have hours of kid-free time in which to contemplate my fear of flying -- I mean, read something longer than a blog post. So, I decided I'd print out whatever of marta's novel was available before the trip and take it with me to read.

But marta's not the only one. Shelli at Mama of Letters just posted part of her young adult novel for comments. And I know lots more of you are writing, if not necessarily sharing drafts on your blogs. (If you are sharing, I may not have seen it -- I'm still 440 posts in the hole on Google Reader. I'm progressing in alphabetical order by folder, so when I get to you depends on a combination of where in the alphabet your blog name falls as well as where I have you filed. I'm scrupulously fair.)

So, all you writers, if you've got a manuscript you're willing to share, I'd love to take you on the plane with me. In return, I will honestly tell you what I liked best about your work -- and what I didn't. (But only if you want that "didn't" part. I sure as hell wouldn't, but that's why I'm not trying to get published!)

Leave me a comment with a URL (if you've posted your work online) or e-mail me at mamampj@gmail.com before Thursday, May 29th. (I'm leaving on the 30th and want to make sure I have time to print things.) I will read in the order received.

Hope you'll join me on my trip. What better way to celebrate meeting some of my blogging BFFs than to take others of you with me? This is going to be fun!

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Who Said You Were Imaginary?

Photo credit: Photo by PaMeLa JaCKSoN on Flickr

Long Vowels is getting married next week, and I'm going to her wedding!

Now that might not necessarily be a big announcement. After all, if you've been reading her blog, you know Vowels is getting married. And as far as you know, Vowels could be one of my long-time, real life friends.

But she isn't. Vowels is one of my imaginary friends, my online friends. We have never met in real life. I don't know what her voice sounds like, but we chat all the time. I've never been in the same room with her, but I know her face just the same. No one in my real life knows her, but they hear me talk about her, using her imaginary name: my friend Vowels, V for short.

And now I have a real old school paper wedding invitation right here, just for me, addressed with her own real life handwriting. Yep, this woman has never even met me, yet she's invited me to her wedding, for crying out loud! How crazily wonderful is that?! For all she knows, I could breathe fire. (I am going to try so hard not to burp flames at your sweet man in the middle of the ceremony, V.) Yet we know each other all the same.

And as if that weren't enough (and shouldn't it be?), The Junky's Wife is going to be there too. I'm so unbelievably excited to meet two of my imaginary BFFs in real life that I'm pretty sure it's going to lead to vomiting or fainting or problems with bladder control. It's like I'm going to be meeting rock stars.

But I'll tell you one thing, if you give imaginary friends real life hugs at a real life wedding, they're already real.

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Speaking of Autism and Money...

A friend who is an OT and mom of an autistic son forwarded me a link to Autism Free Zone that I thought might be useful to some of you (although I'm really not fond of the double meaning in the name).

According the site's creators, who are also parents of an autistic child, the purpose is to help parents offset the financial costs of raising an autistic child. And let me tell you it does cost: whether you are on the vaccine train or not, whether you subscribe to a gluten and casein free diet or not, whether your mission is fighting to get the school district to treat your child with respect and provide mandated(!) services, or fighting your insurance to cover occupational therapy, or just providing your child with the one brand of soap he'll tolerate or the few types of food he'll eat.

Here's what the site's creators envision:

• A community based, password protected website for families with children on the spectrum.
• A free-market (a la "Freecycle" for autism), where families can give those things they are done with and get needed items and services from each other for free.
• Discounts from companies that have products which are needed by the community.
• A knowledge portal that can be easily navigated.
• Social networking tools, such as, video posts, podcasts, blogs and chats.
• Sweepstakes, profit sharing and fund-raising to benefit the member families directly.
  

Looks like things are just starting up, but I thought some of you might want to go take a peek.

---

I do have more to say about the sex industry, but it was kind of making my brain hurt to think about it, so I'm taking a little break and will come back to that topic next week.

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A Modest Proposal to Drug Companies

Photo credit: Photo by noahwesley on Flickr

Dear Drug Companies,

I read recently that mom, housewife and blogger Kathleen Seidel was being sued by some advocates of the theory that vaccines cause autism. Apparently, posting research and opinions on her blog that are in opposition to that theory was really naughty of her.

Now, that in itself may not be of interest to you big pharmaceutical companies, but here's something that will be: those suing Ms. Seidel are onto you. (Shh! They may be listening, so read very quietly.) They say that as a "mere mother of an autistic child and a housewife" Ms. Seidel couldn't possibly have used Internet search engines and publicly available databases to research her subject with such skill. Moreover, she couldn't possibly have supported these time consuming efforts on the meager few hundred dollars she cobbles together in blog earnings. They are saying you drug companies must be backing her. Why else would she do things like research and write? (I mean really. Who wants to do that unless they're getting paid?) And how else could she say vaccines didn't cause her child's autism? She's totally on the take.

Well, let me tell you. I got pretty excited when I heard all that, because like Ms. Seidel, I'm a mere mother of an autistic child and housewife and I'm writing (with much less research and much more gut feeling) about my belief that vaccines do not cause autism. In fact, I've written about it in styles ranging from my deeply moving, hauntingly lyrical prose to a set of (easily misunderstood) Harper's Index-ripoff haikus. And unlike Ms. Seidel (whom you are clearly so generously bankrolling), I'm sitting here like a sucker, doing your job for you for free.

So, here's my offer. I'm an established blogger with a bunch of mindless automatons for an audience. If I tell them to vaccinate their kids, they will so totally do it. And I'm obviously already on board with your plot for world domination. I'll happily continue to blog in support of vaccinations. I just want my cut too. Why does Kathleen Seidel get the money and the fancy research team? Where's my Swiss bank account and team of post-docs? When do I get to blog from my luxury suite in Hawaii? I want in!

I promise to work hard for that money, because I know how important it is for our mutual satisfaction that you hold on to those massive profits you're making from vaccines...

No wait, that's the wrong one. You're not making massive profits off of those. Damn. It's another one that starts with a "V." Viagra! Whatever. I also blog about sex addiction. And believe me, I don't even have to convince the sex addicts they want Viagra; heck, I can't convince them not to take it!

Come on, pharmaceutical companies. I'm waiting for that big deposit into my checking account.

Yours in vast profitable conspiracy,
MPJ

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I Don't Even Know Where to Start

The spectacular (sadly blogless) Edith Whoreton, has once again funneled me a wonderful article. This one, from New York Magazine, is on sex and marriage.

There are so many things wrong with it that I don't even know where to start using my keen intellect and rapier wit to skewer it. So, I decided to start by letting you all read it. That is, if you have the stamina to slog through eight pages of the author's rambling anecdotes masquerading as a theory with a scientific basis (No, really! Cheating is evolutionary biological destiny! After all, the author's sister Alice agrees!) rather than waiting for me to summarize it.

I probably shouldn't even link to it, since it's so clearly a piece designed to incense people and sell magazines, but it touches on some popular myths and misconceptions (happily perpetuated by the sexually compulsive who are not in recovery) that I'd like to discuss. So, eh, what the hell.

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