Big Fat Correction

Here’s the deal. I’m going to try to be honest with you guys. All the time. I like to think of myself as a scrupulously honest gal. But I fuck up sometimes. I’m actually surprised that no one called me on this latest fuck up. In my day after the election post I wrote that I didn’t vote for Clinton the second time because of the Monica Lewinsky scandal.  

Um, yeah. That scandal didn’t break until January of 1998. While their affair had already started by the election of ’96 I, like the rest of America, was blissfully unaware of it. 
Wow. When I wrote that post I believed exactly what I wrote. This sort of makes me wonder what else I’ve gotten wrong in the two and a half plus years I’ve been blogging. It’s troubling and interesting and I’m not quite sure what to do with the information except to say I’m very sorry. I like to think I don’t make mistakes remembering my history (or US history) often, but as I’ve just proven it happens.
I will say that when I realize I’ve made a mistake I will cop to it immediately and I will apologize. If I’m getting something wrong, please feel free to correct me! I’m not perfect. Like I’m super duper far from perfect. 
Let’s try this again: I didn’t vote for Clinton in 1998. I was well on my way towards becoming a Democrat. But I couldn’t get past my upbringing. I didn’t want my parents to be disapointed with me. I do remember feeling uneasy about my decision. I knew what I was doing didn’t really line up with my beliefs. So I guess I do wish that the me that existed in 1996 did vote for him. I have never been a courageous person. I’m ashamed of that. I did the cowardly thing in 1996. Did it again by voting for Green in 2001. But I haven’t done it since. And I will try to not do it again. 
Seriously. I’m sorry. Can we still be friends? 
Here’s my peace offering-A rather embarrassing photo taken by our dear friend C last night. We sure know how to get wild on a Friday night…
My boys making music very early on this Saturday morning. 

Weekly bread making.

Voting and Tattoos

Hey guys, did you vote already? Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? Go do it!

Like I said on FB this morning: Voting is an honor, a privilege, a responsibility. We have the power to make a difference. Is the country perfect? Fuck no. Do we have a long way to you? Hell, yes-for the love of god, women have been voting for less than 100 years. But friends, it is lazy not to vote. Lazy to justify yourself by saying voting doesn’t matter. If you do not vote you lose your right to complain about what elected officials do in this country. And isn’t complaining what makes FB fun? So come on, get to the polls! Just so you can bitch about what happens next! 
It’s no secret that I’m rooting for one guy over the other. I will be crushed and concerned if my guy doesn’t get another 4 years in the White House. But I respect the process and I will respect the results. Voting is one of the most sacred acts in my life. I’ve voted in 5 presidential elections, every one that has happened since I became eligible. Each time I exit the polling station I feel exhilarated after exercising my right as an American. I do not that that right for granted. And I don’t think you should either. 
Today I got to witness something wonderful at the polls. Governor Cuomo signed an Executive Order giving permission for those who have been displaced by Hurricane Sandy to vote anywhere in the state. Those citizens voting out of district can only vote for President and US Senate, but it seems like the most elegant solution to a massive problem. When I entered our little local library to vote this morning the first thing I saw was a gentleman with his smartphone out showing the executive order to a polling official. She didn’t seem to be aware of the change, but she got on the phone and quickly was able to get the man (who I overheard lived in lower Manhattan and taught at SU) a ballot. I watched him fill it out and was grateful. To the Governor for helping as many people vote as possible-even as the repercussions of a major state emergency were still unfolding, to the gentleman for caring enough to make his voice heard, to the polling official who was clearly confused, but took the time to find out what the correct course of action needed to be.

Rock on New York State. I’m proud to live in you today.

Until I got the tattoo in honor of my boys last summer this girl was my favorite. 
She was taken from a piece of flash very similar to this one hanging in Flyrite Tattoo in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The original artist was Robert Wicks. He started tattooing in Coney Island around 1917 or so. The guy I go to now owns a shop in Baltimore, MD called Read Street Tattoo Parlor, but on that day when we both still lived in Brooklyn I asked if we could do the girl and wrap her in an American flag with the word VOTE under her. He drew it up for me and I got it the same day. He did a fantastic job and she’s held up nicely over the years. 
While heavily pregnant with C, Ellie did a family photo shoot and got this one of the lady on my shoulder. In the first picture she is still covered with scabs, she did heal up nicely and the color settled down and is even. 

 In early November it’s too chilly to wear a tank top that shows off my vote gal, so every year I pull out this ratty old t-shirt. Z found a United States Bicentennial mirror at our awesome local flea market and brought it home for me, his bicentennial gal. It has pride of place in our house-the bathroom. 

So yes, voting and tattoos. I highly suggest both.