In truth, I have many fears. I have a desperate fear of taxidermied animals. I also have a fear of statues and oversized paintings and murals. But my biggest fear, the mother of all fears, is that I will wind up living in a trailer park. (And by saying that, I mean no offense to people who live in trailer parks.) This one is bigger than my fear of being murdered, or even my fear that George Bush will somehow figure out how to be elected to a third term in office. John claims it's a ridiculous fear, since anyone who can afford to rent a trailer can afford to rent an apartment. I maintain he's wrong.

Don't be alarmed by the title. I'm a feminist and a liberal. But I'm no legal scholar. So here's my question: why do we need an equal rights amendment? Aren't we protected from discrimination on the basis of sex by the equal protection clause of the 14th Amendment? Briefly, it reads, "no state shall... deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws." And aren't we further protected by the Civil Rights Act of 1964 which, among other things, prohibits discrimination on the basis of sex? So why do I need a constitutional amendment proving that I'm equal in the eyes of the law to a man? This is not a rhetorical question, I'm actually asking.

When I was younger, before I had a car, I would look at messy cars with utter disdain for their owners. I was determined that when I got a car, it would always be clean. Heh. So now I have a car. It's the same one I've had since 2000, and I adore it. But since then, Luke has come into our lives. And at 100 pounds, he needs a place where he can run. Fortunately for us, we have a dog park a few miles from our house. Unfortunately for my car, it has turned into the LukeMobile. He takes up the entire back seat. He brings sand, leaves, and dog smells into my car. And, though we are a two-vehicle household, Luke doesn't fit into John's truck. So the upshot is that I don't have a clean car, but I do have a big, friendly dog.

For my birthday in December, John got me a 14-cup Cuisinart food processor. That thing is a mighty machine, let me tell you. But because of school commitments, I hadn't had a chance to use yet. Yesterday I had my chance. I wanted to make a blackberry galette, which meant that I had to make a polenta pastry crust first. I broke out the Cuisinart, filled it with the necessary ingredients, put the lid on, and pressed the "on" button. Nothing happened. I unplugged it and plugged it back in and tried again. Still nothing. I was totally pissed! Here was a brand-new, never-before-used piece of professional machinery, and it wasn't working for shit! Frustrated, I got out the manual to see if there was some key step I was missing (which seemed unlikely, since the only available buttons were "on" and "off/pulse" and neither one was working). The manual was no help. I pressed the "on" button again. Still nothing. In an act of sheer desperation, I put the handy Cuisinart DVD (no, I'm not kidding) into my computer. I couldn't fast-forward to the part where it told me the secret to starting it up, so I had to sit through about 10 minutes of "these blades are sharp, so don't run your fingers across them." Finally, manna from heaven: the answer! There is a distinct front and back to the machine, and although the lid closes at either the front or the back, only the back position is correct. In other words, everything was correct about my setup except the lid. Doh! Once I got that figured out, it was sheer food-processing joy.

John and I both work from home and are constantly battling door-to-door solicitations, ranging from the Schwann's guy wanting us to order frozen dinners to scruffy-looking guys just outright asking for money. Not only is it an interruption to whatever we're each working on, it's a hassle to constantly be haggled for money. (Especially here in Gainesville, where you can't step foot out the door without being panhandled.) So I hung a piece of paper on the door that said No Solicitations and it worked! Sunday morning (Sunday morning!) a guy came to our house, read the sign, and turned away. It was sheer bliss.

I had a student come up to me today after class and ask why he got a 96% on his paper instead of 100%.

Him: "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

Me: "I should hope not."

I'm not one to use my blog to promote an agenda; I like to use it to have fun (and occasionally bitch about things that piss me off). But I'd like to use this post to address several things that I'd like for you to do. Call it an early Christmas present.

1) Log on to http://www.nrdconline.org/campaign/polarbearsos_0207 and help the polar bears. Whether you believe global warming exists or not, it's pretty easy to find gobs of information about the plight of polar bears. The Bush Administration is considering an act to put these beautiful animals on the endangered species list, but in order for the legislation to go through, there needs to be a public outpouring of support. Please do your part by urging our government to do the right thing.

2) Watch An Inconvenient Truth. It will scare the shit out of you, but it's a message everyone needs to hear. Our planet is neither red nor blue; it needs all of us to ensure its future.

3) Watch Who Killed the Electric Car?. We have the technology to put clean, battery-powered vehicles on the roads and cut our dependence on oil. Why aren't we doing just that?

4) Log on to http://blog.algore.com/2007/02/our_next_step.html. Read Al Gore's blog post and then log on to http://www.algore.com/cards.html and urge Congress to take action against global warming.

5) If you have the means, change your carbon footprint where you can. Buy compact fluorescent light bulbs instead of incandescent light bulbs. Replace old, inefficient appliances with Energy Star certified appliances. Turn your thermostat colder in the winter and warmer in the summer. Install cellulose insulation in your attic; the higher the rating the better. Walk, bike, and take public transportation when you can. When you can't, drive a hybrid. (Or, build your own electric car! John's in the market for an electric forklift motor, if anyone has a spare one laying around.) If you have a dog, use biodegradable waste bags. Start a compost pile for the organic materials in your home, like kitchen refuse. Buy organic foods! Recycle! Plant a tree! Take care of our planet now, while you have the chance. Leave it better than it was when you found it.

I often find myself in the middle of complicated conversations. This morning, for example, I called the bank where I'm opening up an IRA for the pathetic amount of retirement money I accumulated while working for the State of Kansas. (And yes, for the record, I looked into just pulling the money out as cash, but apparently that would leave me with about enough money to go get a coffee.) The bank lady who needs to sign my paperwork wanted to know if I would be willing to come in this week.

Me: Yes, any time would be fine. When will you be there?

Bank Lady: Well... [long pause] why don't you tell me when you want to come in?

Me: Okay, how about today at 11:30?

Bank Lady: Oooh, yeah, no, I'm not going to be here.

Me: Okay, how about this afternoon?

Bank Lady: Ooooh, hmm. [long pause] What time this afternoon?

Me: Uh, any time after lunch?

Bank Lady: Oooooh, hmmm.... well, I'll be here from 1-5.

Why is this difficult? She's the one with a schedule, she's the one who will either be at the bank or not be at the bank, why didn't she just bloody tell me when she'd be available? Is that so hard?

John and I knew, when we bought this house, that we'd have to replace the kitchen appliances. And yesterday, we decided to replace the refrigerator and the dishwasher. The dishwasher is so loud ("how loud is it?") that you can't have a conversation in the kitchen while it's running. In any case, we went to Sears yesterday evening, determined to come home with an order for these two appliances. We walked into the kitchen department at Sears and then he struck. "How can we help you folks navigate this forest of dishwashers?" The determined salesman. John gave him the standard 'leave us alone' line: "Oh, we're just looking." But this one-- 85-year-old Carl-- was not easily rebuffed. Instead of being put off, he forged ahead. "Well, clearly, you're going to want to look at these dishwashers here." And he proceeded to lead us on a fifteen-minute tour of The Most Expensive Dishwashers Ever Made. We kept interjecting, but Carl was nonplussed. He even insisted on giving us prices based on what it would cost to pay with a Sears card (which we repeatedly told him we weren't getting). Finally I took John's hand and said, very determinedly, "well, it sounds like we've got a lot to think about! Why don't we go home and talk it over?" At which point Carl gave us a guilt trip about what it's like to work on commission and asked us to come back before his shift was up... in 30 minutes. We booked it out of Sears so fast we didn't even stop to look at the refrigerators. And what kills me is, Carl would have had a nice $1200 sale on his hands! Instead, he left his shift at 6 probably thinking that we were cheap. Ah, well. You can't win 'em all.

I don't think there's anything worse than grading student papers. Surely it's a punishment for something, surely it's akin to purgatory. Obviously I was, at some point, given a choice between walking on hot coals or grading papers and, wanting to appease the angry gods but not lose a foot, I chose grading. sigh Maybe I should ask for a do-over.

As long as I live, I will never understand why students think they can plagiarize and get away with it.

They're building an IKEA... in Orlando. In ORLANDO!!!! I can barely contain myself. It's supposed to be finished this fall. My love affair with IKEA is fairly well-documented, but I've only set foot in an actual store once, in Emeryville. I need not even say this, but it was fabulous. However, we were on a really tight schedule and needless to say, one should not be on a really tight schedule when trying to make it all the way through an IKEA. I still kick myself for not getting those cabinet knobs.... But in any case, now that one is being built in Orlando, I will have the chance to redeem myself.

If you have the time and the patience, I defy you to find an actor or actress who has a Kevin Bacon number higher than three at the University of Virginia's Oracle of Bacon.

I passed my qualifying exams!!!

I don't want to alarm anyone, but I think that the Girl Scouts of America may be tied up in international drug trafficking. I don't have any solid "evidence," per se, though I do suspect that their cookies have crack in them. How else could they be so addictive? They may not have trans fat in them anymore, but I think the crack content has gone up. I'm guessing that, within a few years, we'll see the GSA come up with a badge in drug trafficking. It's a genius plan-- who would ever suspect a little girl with pig tails, all dressed in green?