I've been packing myself some pretty "veggie" lunches lately. I actually like that because, as some of you may recall, I used to be 99.9% vegetarian (except for that one, yearly steak). Now, you can measure my level of vegetarianism right along side Shrub's integrity. So, it's nice to have a couple of meals each day without any meat. Breakfast is an obvious one. After all, who wants a steak in their bowl of Cheerios? What's for lunch, you ask?
1 bag of carrots
1 small bag of radishes
1 small bag of cubed pepper-jack cheese (I said "veggie" not "vegan"), and
1 cup of grapefruit
Listing that reminds me, of course, how much I could go for a burger – but, heck, I'll get that burger soon enough, right? I don't need it now. I'm trying to adopt that attitude in all of my life and…
… you know, as soon as I wrote that I realized that I should probably mention something. Yes, I've been good at being vegetarian and unmaterialistic before. I've been much better. But, at the risk of stating the obvious, we all go through these cycles in life and I go through mine, as well. Right now, I'm trying to get it back down to the essentials again. I've had enough with overeating, carnivorousness, materialism. So, I'm going to tone it down.
I'm not saying I'll never have another cigarette or ice cream cone or steak or never buy myself something nice. I just know that I'll get those things soon enough. So, there's no rush. (Vicky is sure to remind me of this when I do have a cigarette. But accept that I'm aware of it, hon.)
Yesterday, I jogged three miles. It felt terrific. I've always loved running and, very often, just don't. Actually, here's the thing. I start – I love it – I overdue it – I hurt myself – I stop. And then, the cycle repeats. I'll go jogging again tonight. What I really need is a partner who will set the pace, keep my lust for speed in check. Vicky hates jogging, so that's right out.
The day I really learn self-control, we're bound to plunge straight into the sun.
And that's about it. I would write about more but the only thing on my mind is Shrub's unconscionable acts of late. Get this: His administration puts a woman in danger and destroys her career, Valerie Plame. They do it so they can start an illegal war and kill thousands of American citizens. Then, when someone has the temerity to investigate what was done, his administration does everything they can to stop the investigation while making overtures towards respecting the legal process. They are overtures, after all, because once a man (Libby) is tried and found guilty by a Republican judge no less, Shrub gets him off the hook. So, what you basically have is a revolving door, Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free kind of government. Not only are thousands upon thousands of innocent Iraqis being killed along with thousands of Americans thanks to this illegal war, which we can't stop because of the pockets it's lining, but the American people don't even have recourse over the event that helped start it.
And I wonder where the outrage is and why so few seem to care. Shrub's polling is the lowest of any modern president but he has learned you don't need it. Polls truly do mean nothing; he can act with impunity and does. And it casts a shameful light upon us all.
And that, my friends, is too sad to write about.
So, what am I going to write about?
Today, in the book I'm working on, I bring you the fruit cup. In a book that questions if human love is really possible, I bring the question to parents and children. The fruit cup. An innovation begun by a parent and co-opted by a corporation. With what started as a way to get kids to eat healthy (called "fruit"), we now have an environmentally-damaging plastic holding a sugar-laden snack with few redeeming qualities. The fruit cup. In summary: Parents would rather give their kids something that's bad for them and the planet than a fucking piece of fruit.
And I wonder why so few people are outraged over Shrub's crimes.