Brownie for Comish.

I like my blog for a lot of reasons.  I like that I can write one thing, one time and everyone I like can read (which is way easier than sending a bunch of emails to lots of different people).  I like that Kristin harasses the crap out of me when I don't update it for a few days in a row.  But most of all, I like that my blog is like my own personal soapbox.  So if you'll indulge me for a minute, I'm going to hop up on my soapbox.  (It's going to be fantastic.  Don't worry.)  [Rummaging and clanging]  Ah, here it is.  [Flipping giant soapbox right side up] Excellent.  [Climbing onto said soapbox]  Perfect.  


As everyone who has ever known me for more than 2 minutes knows, I have lots of strong opinions.  On a giant range of things.  Like the obscene hideousness of head-to-denim, people who are completely unaware in a large crowd (standing still when you get off the metro is NOT a choice), and voting.  Voting is fantastic; the only way a democracy can function properly is if everyone exercises their right to vote.  (Spare me your argument on the electoral college.  I've already heard it and we're not going there today.  That's a completely different soapbox issue.)  In fact, I once shamed a friend into registering to vote using only my words.  Voting is fantastic.  I was so excited to register to vote when I turned 18.  I love to vote so much in fact that during my first presidential election when I was studying abroad and they didn't mail me my ballot I went to the embassy not once, but twice, to make sure that I was able to vote.  So I'm going to take a leap of faith on the next two items.  1.  I'm assuming that everyone who reads my blog is registered to vote.  (I'm giving you eyes of judgment RIGHT NOW if you're not.)  And 2.  I'm assuming everyone who reads my blog is really interested in what I think.


Which brings me to the real reason I got out my soapbox today.  One of my dad's friends is running for county comish.  Brownie.  If you've ever attended a party at my parents' house, you've most certainly met Brownie.  He's absolutely fantastic and (although I may be slightly biased) would be a most excellent comish.  He's not on City Council (obviously) and he doesn't even live within the city limits, so he has a completely different perspective on the county.  Which is always excellent.  When everyone thinks the same thing it's boring and leads straight down the path to complacency.  So do me a favor:  check out Brownie for the County on Facebook.  (I can't really comment on this page, as I am not longer privy to information on the 'Book.)  Vote for him in the primary on May 4th, if you're a registered Democrat.  Otherwise vote for him in November.  


[Hopping off soapbox.  Tucking it safely away until next time I get worked up about something.]
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Pretend like this is a completely different blog entry.  I don't want to sully the good Brownie name with the subsequent content.


Onto much less important and much more frivolous things.  First up on the agenda:  In RI, an underperforming high school fired all its teachers, effective at the end of the year.  Yipes! (Read more here.)  And, of course, the union is super worked up about it.  (Personally, I have mixed feelings on teachers' unions, but that's neither here nor there.  For today, at least.)  But the Ed. Secretary is on board for it.  Firing all faculty is one of three or four options open to underperforming schools in need of an overhaul.  So in that sense they are not out of line.  It's a legit choice they have.  Clearly, it's quite extreme, but I don't hate the idea.  (I'm sure I would feel less positively towards it if I was on the receiving end of said option.)  I just don't understand how teachers can feel complacent when 7% of students are proficient in math and 30% of students drop out.  (I mean, I know I never dazzled anyone with my math skills, but I like to believe I'd be in that 7%.)  And I'm sure not every student is complacent, but I refuse to believe that if they were collectively worked up enough those statistics would have improved.  And apparently, because no one ever takes no for an answer anymore, the teachers are appealing this decision.  I miss the days when no meant no.  (Slight, wistful pause for the good, old days.)


And now the "more frivolous" section, as promised.  There two things to note here.
1.  On Wednesday night, I was on my way to a happy hour in Penn Quarter, which is about a 15 minute metro trip.  On the actual train.  I had a magazine in my bag, but there was a lot of other stuff in there as well, and I didn't want to disturb the fragile balance I had achieved, so I was just listening to my iPod and checking out the other people on the metro.  Because I love to people-watch.  So I'm standing/leaning against the wall towards the front of the train and can see a significant majority of the car.  On my first scan of the train, I spy this super cute dude.  So I continue to check out the whole train, see what everyone is doing, while simultaneously stealing glances at Hottie McGoodlooking.  And then? Then I got busted.  By none other than one Hottie McGoodlooking.  That was a little embarrassing.  But clearly, he didn't hate it.  So that makes it a little less embarrassing.  
2.  Yesterday was out of line.  I'm so frustrated with children not having limits that I never want to procreate.  (Okay, we all know that was some crazy hyperbole.  I take it back.  But stand by the sentiment.)  Per previous comments on teachers' unions, I miss days when no meant no.  So yesterday I come home and Kate and I are talking about how we NEVER would have gotten away with this shit when we were kids and as we're talking I'm pouring multiple liquids into a glass.  In defense of Kate, she only saw me gather ice cubes and then put Sprite in, but the winning comment of last night was when Kate saw my glass full of dark purple liquid:  "Is that juice or wine?"  My response?  "Kate.  Please.  When has juice ever made anyone feel better about their outlook on life?  Clearly, it's wine."