Goo VHS vs Goo Betamax

I'm starting to toy with the idea of moving to tumblr. It just seems so much easier to post over there and easier to get lots of different media up. But I'm having a hard time leaving my good ol' trusty blogger account.

So add poofygoo.tumblr.com to your RSS and follow along in an epic battle to see which platform will win. Perhaps even cast a vote.

Chaos and Concert

I'm not quite sure how to cognitively resolve the incongruity that was this weekend. Every time I looked at the internets, I was assaulted by pictures of the wreckage in Japan and then the unthinkable tragedy of the murder and brutal assault of two women in my yoga/pilates community.

But it was the first day where spring felt sprung. I've been watching a daffodil struggle through the hard earth over the last week, shivering up. Today it bloomed, a cheerful bright yellow head stretching up, greeting me, "Oh hells yeah SPRING. It's ON!"

And after some pretty dark months, I'm ready to bloom again. For reals this time, not just in a manic, I'm reallyreallyreally fine and not depressed and not grieving and I feel just fine see everything that I'm doing and did I mention I'm really fine kind of way that I had in the late months of 2010 as chaos was swirling around me.* After a final blowout with my evidently-not-so-life partner, I realized how much mental energy I was spending on putting up that front.

Exhausting.

I started some therapy, started some meditation, and started talking a lot like an alcoholic, whatwith the taking-it-one-day-at-a time business. The latter was slightly disconcerting to my friends, given my affinity for delicious craft cocktails, but I soothed their fears by crafting them said delicious craft cocktails. No one thinks you're an alcoholic if you're making them something tasty. Also, if they're drunk.

At the same time, I figured as long as I was going to be depressed, why not dig in really deep and start to deal with some of the trauma from growing up with dysfunction that made the Tennenbaums seem like the Smurfs. Maybe that's a poor analogy. The Smurfs were pretty messed up. Papa Smurf? Definitely a pederast.

The process has helped me learn how to process emotions. My general m.o. up until now has been to package up those unsavory feelings, compartmentalizing them neatly into a bento box so that they can get shoved the deepest attic of my soul where it can sit undisturbed until it turns into cancer. I learned this process of dealing with life, sometimes referred to as The Irish Method, from my family, particularly my parents, who have 300% success rate with turning feelings into cancer. Instead, I'm learning to feel an emotion and release it.

Ok, I'm going to stop waxing philosophical on how I process emotions as that's not quite where I was intending to go with this post. The point is, perhaps I don't need to resolve the stark contrast between the trauma of finding out that my safe haven of a community is vulnerable and happiness at having spent time with friends. Or scouring pictures of devastation in Japan while looking at the seedlings that will sprout into my first garden in a few short weeks. Entropy and development work in a chaotic concert together. Maybe it's best not to think about it too hard, but just feel what's there.

Still, I picked up The Cat and hugged him so tight that he squeaked. Meep.

*In brief: chaos of 2010 in chronological order: got sued, got suicide bombed, had a two year work project spectacularly fail, ended my relationship with my evidently not life partner, got robbed, got sexually assaulted, got mugged, and guided my mom and my cat through massive illnesses.

I Don't Think I'm Going to Take Classes This Summer

Inspiration for an otherwise gloomy day, weather- and headline-wise.

"Back to school, back to work
Can this go on forever?
Angela, what's the difference?
Life goes on all around you."

The Walkmen || Angela Surf City [1 of 3] from Ray Concepcion on Vimeo.

You Can Have It All

I've always thought the perfect pet would be the bear on the Snuggle fabric softener bottle, but was bummed about the part where he isn't actually real. Except that he is.

Thundersnow!

We're experiencing my all-time favorite weather phenomenon here in our nation's capital:

THUNDERSNOW!

Weathermen fall to their knees for THUNDERSNOW!

More powerful than a monster truck tearing through the halls of Congress, THUNDERSNOW! wreaks its wrath through the streets of DC, leaving only a trail of white flakes of death in its wake. And awesome radar images:

The federal government is no match for THUNDERSNOW! It crumples under the mighty power of THUNDERSNOW!, discharging federal employees two hours early so they can flee like rats scattering from the sinking cargohold that is the Capital Beltway. Meanwhile, Tea Party bloggers warm up their Gateways to excoriate Congress for crossing the aisles at last night's State of the Union address, claiming THUNDERSNOW! as divine retribution. It's probably true. Check out this behind-the-scenes view of Mt. Olympus during last night's speech:

And, in case you "scientists" need more empirical proof of the awesome majesty of THUNDERSNOW!, check out THUNDERSNOW! from space: Oh, the snowmanity!

I Hope I Get a Sunburn

Finally, the day is here: Portlandia premieres tonight! And just in time, since it's starting to get a little too real:

Observe.

The biggest obstacle to bicycle-rights advocacy is militant bikers; I see carbon copies of these guys on the way to work in the morning. They raise all kinds of conundrums for the modern urban woman. For example, will the misuse of the bicycle whistle diminish the effectiveness of the rape whistle?

And why, as a culture, do we get apoplectic when Toyotas lack proper brakes, but we glorify fixies, which have pretty much the same issue going for them? If you think about it, a fixie isn't that far removed from my brother's first car, a 1982 Dodge Colt with most of the seats and engine parts removed. The intent was to maximize the engine sound and surface area for making out with the ladies, but not unlike most bicycle douchebaggery, just ended up having the opposite effect.

Fuzzy Diplomacy

At last night’s state dinner for Chinese President Hu Jintao, President Obama announced that, “Under a new agreement, our National Zoo will continue to dazzle children and visitors with the beloved giant pandas."

Wait, wha--??? The first state visit from China in over a decade and all we get is to keep the pandas we already have? What the hell kind of agreement is that? One of the primary reasons I voted for Obama was for his diplomacy skills, but this is a complete and utter failure for the Administration.

Here’s how US-China diplomacy is supposed to work: They do whatever the hell they want and we look the other way. Specifically, in the direction of our adorable little panda cubs. Call it fuzzy diplomacy. For the human rights violations China is churning out (and yes, I do consider barring access to Google a violation of basic human rights), we should get at least two cubs. Plus a third for all the flimflammery with the currency.

And, China, as long as you’re forking over the good stuff, you might as well put another one in there as a consolation prize now that the US is only the number 2 emitter of greenhouse gases. I mean, no one wants to cheer “we’re number 2!” at the UN pep rally, but a something soft, black, white, and butterstick-shaped would certainly soften the blow. You’re the one who wants to be the good neighbor and whatnot.

This latest disappointment only adds to the Obama administration’s dismal record on panda policy. Here in DC, our hearts broke and our traffic jammed (seriously, they shut down Connecticut Ave, one of the major arteries of the city, for three hours in morning rush hour traffic to take the panda to the airport) when our beloved Butterstick was taken from the National Zoo and thereby nudging the national landmark on to the shortlist of most depressing places in DC.

Atlanta’s panda fared even worse: no one even bothered to teach her Chinese (which was apparently an issue). I have enough trouble finding interpreters from Spanish to English; I can’t even imagine the hoops you’d have to jump through to find someone who can translate from Panda to Chinese.

I realize we’re all caught up in pressing domestic issues, like health care debate (wait, is that right? I thought we finished that months ago?!). But I implore the Obama administration and Secretary Clinton to press President Hu to panda up.