I Will Not Blog About the Gross Austrian Man

Enough said. Where's the gulasch?

Allergies, Smallergies

Revelers in Trastavere, Rome yesterday got down and dirty with an enormous pillow fight.

At this point, I can only express my severe and utter jealousy. If there is one thing Los Angeles needs, it is a giant feathers-flying, out-and-out. downright brawl of our pillows. A union of all things synthetic and down, a pillow fight is just the kind of out-of-the-box therapy Angeleans would benefit from. Even those bizarre pellet-filled viscose blobs would be helpful. Forget our manicures, our massages, our over-priced and not-always-so-tasty lattes. They obviously haven't helped us with our road rage or the release of our feelings. Italy has the right idea.

Even Spain understands. Bunol, Valencia is the host of the Tomatina (the tomato fight) in which boys align against girls for a day of slinging the red fruit back and forth until the streets are ankle-deep in pulp. Afterwards, everyone makes salsa with the pulp. Alright, that last part might be a lie.

Still, even India has the color war, Holi, in which everyone throws water balloons full of colored powder at one another. Or at least that's how it goes in the movies. Why do all these other countries have so much more fun than us?

According to IndianChild.com,

Festivals bring joy and happiness in our lives. If we celebrate all festivals alike we can spread the message of joy, happiness, brotherhood and humanity among one another and live as one family and community.

I'm not sure I would go that far, but I can't say I wouldn't mind putting on my pj's and slinging some pillows.

And I Always Thought I Was Mean To My Little Brother . . .

See Evan? Here you have it-- you had it easy.

Economy on Fire

According to an LA Times article today, people across the country have begun burning down their homes and crashing their cars in attempts to escape the constraints of their mortgage, home, and car payments. Given, the trend is still small at this point, but Insurance Fraud Investigators are sitting up and taking note, eager for their home institutions (if an insurance company could indeed be called an institution) to maximize their profits and deny as many claims as possible.

It's hard to ignore the parallel between the current trend and that of the suicidal Brooklyn Bridge Wall-Streeters of the great depression, albeit to a far lesser degree. Admittedly, our current recession hasn't yet spurred our economy into a downward spiral sharp enough to induce such a level of manic depression and sheer panic at the dire state of one's condition.

Perhaps this is because in our current state of economic downturn, the big guns aren't being held as responsible for the downturn of their businesses as they might have been in 1929. Take Bear Stearns for example. Even after their initial Fed bailout raised protests from some, the price per share paid by the Fed for the financial giant was increased voluminously.

Some Americans are being repaid in the form of tax breaks this year, but none on so grand a scale. According to a CNN.com article, the average tax return in 2008 will be about $2500-- far too small a sum to pay off the average debts of consumption-happy Americans. Furthermore, with a high marginal propensity to consume in the US, it's unlikely that whole check will be going towards paying off old debts. For many families, Uncle Sam may just be financing the purchase of a new Wii.

Back In My Day . . .

Things have come a long way since I was in high school. All I got in the way of a promvitation was a, "Hey gurl, Wanna hook up at prom next weekend? I can get us a good deal on condoms," scribbled onto a paper cafeteria napkin and stuffed into the vent in my locker when I wasn't looking. Sadly, my would-be-suitor forgot to sign his name, so I never got to take advantage of his once-in-a-lifetime offer.

Only kidding. My high school had a graduation ball rather than prom. Our parents all came. Nookie and intoxication were scarce. Still, if someone had invited me to the prom on Digg, had I known what it was, I probably would have said yes. I mean, this kid has cojones. Slightly nerdy cojones, admittedly, but cojones nonetheless. Talk about a potential for public humiliation. On that note, I sure hope she doesn't shoot him down.

Pope's UN Adress Falls Just Short of Benediction

Pope Benedict addressed the UN General Assembly today as a part of his visit to the US.

He said the notion of multilateral consensus was "in crisis because it is still subordinated to the decisions of a few, whereas the world's problems call for interventions in the form of collective action by the international community."

While Benedict did not mention any specific country, this appeared to be a reference to the United States, which led the 2003 invasion of Iraq even though the Security Council refused to approve it.

The Vatican strongly opposed the recourse to war.
(Reuters Copyright 2008)

Interestingly enough, the Pope will not be attending the White House dinner in his honor this weekend. Hmm . . . subtly reprimanding US actions and refusing to be honored by the US all in one visit. Coincidence? I think not. SOMEONE'S trying to send a message from the Catholic Church. Let's see if George and Dick pick up on the REAL reason for this papal visit. They may need a little help from above to retract themselves from their current mess.

What is THAT?

Until I came to college, I had no idea how unusual it was that I knew the names and utilities of most plants and animals I encountered in my day-to-day life. I could tell you which mushrooms were delicious with garlic, as opposed to those that would kill you or leave you running zig-zags around imaginary giant rabbits. I knew which woodland berries were edible and delicious and which would leave you retching in the bushes.

The daughter of a master gardener, I had spent my childhood hiking through the woods, picking stinging nettles for quiches and soups and tea (touching only the tops of course), digging worms wriggling from their dark, damp holes and pitting them against millipedes and pill bugs that I found in the woodpile. I could have even demonstrated to onlookers the utility of the banana slug as a tongue numbing device, although if I ever did, I have since blocked it from my memory.

You can imagine my surprise then, when I came across a YouTube video on Digg.com today proclaiming that a new survey of children found they could identify 1000 logos, and only 10 plants and animals. Yes, that's right. Ten. Collectively.

This makes me quite sad. I could identify more than ten varieties of personal pets as a child, largely because I had at least as many. Not to mention more than ten exotic animals, more than ten farm animals, and far more than ten plants. And I believe my life is better for it. I don't squirm at the sight of rodents or insects-- no daddy longlegs has ever caused me to jump as it does my city-raised friends.

Yes, people sometimes poke fun at me, when, in the middle of the Golden Gate Park's AIDS Memorial Walk I leap excitedly from the trail to seize upon a bush of luscious salmonberries, but I know that inside they are only jealous. Their teasing does little to mask their obvious gratitude at having befriended such a resourceful young woman.