Monday night i went to go see "Across the universe"
here is part one of my free write, sorry for my lag of blogs lately
Dark theater with rushing sound exploding into me, I nipple the salt of popcorn, eyes glued to the fairy picture tale in front of me.
This is the first picture show I have sen in months. alone with out anyone to sit beside me. i have accept being alone, i am not ashamed to sneak into the dark and let my troubles slowly slip away for a few hours. A moment to escape to the reality of my life, and slip into another character o costume of my likening.
its been so long, since i have had a moment to escape-
I hate Bono, as much as I hate turtle neck sweaters. Turtle necks always like they are choking the life out of me. Picture pale hands, cold, clammy, grasping y our flesh, pulling out the light, life and love of your body. well that's pretty much how I feel about Bono.
Theres a type of arrogance that alludes him that's like a flesh eating bacteria, do I need to say any more?
why Bono, because he danced in fairy tale land of the silver screen, playing Dr. Roberto a character based on Ken Kesey, who was one of the conductors of the 'magic bus', he played the role horribly.
Thinking of another generation
the long hair hippie drugsters, who played lull- a -byes with lsd 25, now all are qualifying for Arap. what did they teach their children about how to live in their generation?
it seems to me, nothing at all-
and that is what in my core, makes me so angry
i wonder if it's because i live in a 'red' state that i lack overage in war news, but they only time i am tuned in is when i listen to NPR. that's where i hear 16 service men died today, and five Iraqi children were killed in the ambush, but we capture 8 insurgents. (what is a insurgent please define)
for fucking what?
what is the 700 billion dollars and counting......for?
is it oil and contracts?
giving the nation a chance for a democracy and sovereignty?
to 'free' the oppressed?
to have military bases in the middle east.
or kill those damn terrorist that kill our people?
or for the new nation school of Americas-
Thursday, October 25
Saturday, October 20
tired
i started to organize my library of books last night, i stayed up past my bed time. trying to figure out if i should organize them my titles, author, or theme. so i did all above. my conclusion i need another bookcase. i think i am going to get a mocha because i like my coffee with a little happiness in the morning. one day i hope my child learns that you stay up and sleep in on the weekends...
Friday, October 19
The Stare-
The Stare
She stared at me, looking me up and down. She placed my personality in a little box; filing me away in her little drawer of assessments. I looked back at her, looking at how her necklace caught the light’s reflection. The dark part of me, wanted to pull the chains of silver to see if it could slash her wrinkled chin. I wanted to watch blood ooze down her perfectly picked out green shirt. I wanted to watch her lose her breath, scream, have her eyes dislodge out of their sockets. But I am not cruel, I kept talking to her, as she kept judging me. As she judged me, I started to make assumptions about her. How she raised her children, how her house had to be perfect, not a speck of dirt on the floor.
As she rattled on, talking and talking about nothing that important, I placed her in my own filing cabinet. I thought she was lonely, hadn’t had good sex in twenty years, and felt inferior.
Do you ever wear makeup?
The only thing that put me in a classic gender role as a child was my doll house. Though I was more fascinated by knowing how a fuse created a reaction in the tiny little lamp. Then I was in creating a fictional life for my miniature people. I hated how other little girls carried their baby dolls around. They would hold them so preciously while my dolls got buried in the dirt, colored on and made over. Meaning I would cut off their limps, their hair, draw on their bodies, and created little zombie dolls. My girlhood was filled with creating Mecca’s with my wooden blocks, rebuilding my table and chairs, and filling shoe boxes with interesting rocks, bugs and grasses. I would spend hours in the yard climbing trees, and making up potions with wild onions and ladybugs.
So it’s not at all surprising that I don’t own, or know how to ‘paint’ my face with make-up. Unfortunately because we live in the world where ‘beauty’ opens doors, it’s a skill that I need to tack on my list of how to be a woman. Without it some people assume that I don’t care about my appearance. Which is a lie, I do care, I just don’t always have the time to care. I am always rushing out the door with a child in my arms, and he is a larger responsibility, then making sure my basic pants match my basic shirt. For instance I have to make sure he has enough diapers for the day, is dressed according to the weather, has been fed, etc.
So I realize as an adult, as a female adult, that presenting an image is much more important then how intelligent you compose your thoughts, how much you know, etc. at these time I ask has feminism really died that much? My answer wants to me no, but according to the 2006 census report, that women still made 10,000 less per year. Sigh!
She stared at me, looking me up and down. She placed my personality in a little box; filing me away in her little drawer of assessments. I looked back at her, looking at how her necklace caught the light’s reflection. The dark part of me, wanted to pull the chains of silver to see if it could slash her wrinkled chin. I wanted to watch blood ooze down her perfectly picked out green shirt. I wanted to watch her lose her breath, scream, have her eyes dislodge out of their sockets. But I am not cruel, I kept talking to her, as she kept judging me. As she judged me, I started to make assumptions about her. How she raised her children, how her house had to be perfect, not a speck of dirt on the floor.
As she rattled on, talking and talking about nothing that important, I placed her in my own filing cabinet. I thought she was lonely, hadn’t had good sex in twenty years, and felt inferior.
Do you ever wear makeup?
The only thing that put me in a classic gender role as a child was my doll house. Though I was more fascinated by knowing how a fuse created a reaction in the tiny little lamp. Then I was in creating a fictional life for my miniature people. I hated how other little girls carried their baby dolls around. They would hold them so preciously while my dolls got buried in the dirt, colored on and made over. Meaning I would cut off their limps, their hair, draw on their bodies, and created little zombie dolls. My girlhood was filled with creating Mecca’s with my wooden blocks, rebuilding my table and chairs, and filling shoe boxes with interesting rocks, bugs and grasses. I would spend hours in the yard climbing trees, and making up potions with wild onions and ladybugs.
So it’s not at all surprising that I don’t own, or know how to ‘paint’ my face with make-up. Unfortunately because we live in the world where ‘beauty’ opens doors, it’s a skill that I need to tack on my list of how to be a woman. Without it some people assume that I don’t care about my appearance. Which is a lie, I do care, I just don’t always have the time to care. I am always rushing out the door with a child in my arms, and he is a larger responsibility, then making sure my basic pants match my basic shirt. For instance I have to make sure he has enough diapers for the day, is dressed according to the weather, has been fed, etc.
So I realize as an adult, as a female adult, that presenting an image is much more important then how intelligent you compose your thoughts, how much you know, etc. at these time I ask has feminism really died that much? My answer wants to me no, but according to the 2006 census report, that women still made 10,000 less per year. Sigh!
Thursday, October 18
fat thighs and yellow cake
I type with my fat thighs exploding in my dress that is one size to small. I had to throw something on, because my outfit smelled like basement mold. My face looks like a pizza slice, blotchy, red, exploding with acne that I thought I got rid of during my teenage years. I just got off my hormone roller coaster of what is known as the womanly curse. I don’t mind it really; except when I want to kill everything that touches me or tries to use logic and reason within a five feet radius. In these times, I want to hide underneath the covers, stay in bed all day, and not come out. This feeling just doesn’t come once a month, it lingers through the year.
Maybe if I could just suck in my stomach everything will be alright for the day. Maybe if I was just blonde, I wouldn’t have such a dilemma with personal ego. I know it doesn’t matter, but there’s this girl inside me who desperately wants to fit in. Who wants to sit with someone at lunch time, and fill the day petty conversation.
But I am not that girl, I long for my pink chucks and hippie skirt as I sit in my commercial world, with my little dress, my brown shoes, and ponytail.
the truth is
I lie at lunch, where I really want to grab another piece of cake. I lie and say I count calories, I say i watch my food intake. If no one was watching me,i would have another piece of cake, i would let my thighs expand just a little bit more for that moment of bliss. if i wasn't around other females, i would eat my cake. if they weren't all watching me, judging me. if there wasn't an obession of skinny. if i could just remember that once i would be to thin to be a lovely goddess. if i could just remember.
but lets face it, many women would kill to get in my body, they would smile and dance to fit in my size nine pants that are starting to fall off my waist. they might quest to fit in the medium to small shirt. they would pray for my boobs that i didn't have to buy, even though they are slightly saggy. they would work on my stomach and do pilliaties or whatever to tone my stomach. what do i have to complain about? I have seven more pounds to go before I reach my pre-baby weight. which is just really 2 pounds because i gain and drop five pounds by water weight each month. two pounds and i am at about a size seven. that dress thats too small, i have worn for close to ten years now. so why did i count calories today, why did this morning i felt my thighs were huge? why do i check my weight on the scale? why when i know the obessesion to be thin is just a joke???? why oh why?
Maybe if I could just suck in my stomach everything will be alright for the day. Maybe if I was just blonde, I wouldn’t have such a dilemma with personal ego. I know it doesn’t matter, but there’s this girl inside me who desperately wants to fit in. Who wants to sit with someone at lunch time, and fill the day petty conversation.
But I am not that girl, I long for my pink chucks and hippie skirt as I sit in my commercial world, with my little dress, my brown shoes, and ponytail.
the truth is
I lie at lunch, where I really want to grab another piece of cake. I lie and say I count calories, I say i watch my food intake. If no one was watching me,i would have another piece of cake, i would let my thighs expand just a little bit more for that moment of bliss. if i wasn't around other females, i would eat my cake. if they weren't all watching me, judging me. if there wasn't an obession of skinny. if i could just remember that once i would be to thin to be a lovely goddess. if i could just remember.
but lets face it, many women would kill to get in my body, they would smile and dance to fit in my size nine pants that are starting to fall off my waist. they might quest to fit in the medium to small shirt. they would pray for my boobs that i didn't have to buy, even though they are slightly saggy. they would work on my stomach and do pilliaties or whatever to tone my stomach. what do i have to complain about? I have seven more pounds to go before I reach my pre-baby weight. which is just really 2 pounds because i gain and drop five pounds by water weight each month. two pounds and i am at about a size seven. that dress thats too small, i have worn for close to ten years now. so why did i count calories today, why did this morning i felt my thighs were huge? why do i check my weight on the scale? why when i know the obessesion to be thin is just a joke???? why oh why?
Tuesday, October 16
Ten Years ago-
Ten years ago I wanted to be a writer. maybe reality crept on in, and I discovered I have horrible grammar, and tend to miss the connecting words, like to, for, the, and I use to many commas. In college I was told by a young professor to explore creative writing classes because I have a knack of putting odd words together, and describing things better then the norm. But after writing millions of technical papers on philosphy and the constitution of the Eu. My creativity dropped off the face of the earth and into the endless ocean of nothing.
I am sure an English Major would be annoyed to tears while reading my blog, because quite frankly I don't always proofread, and its a journal.
When reading "black" womens literature in college. there was a discussion on the vernacular of writing. that how one writes, is how one lives. that novels are coming out with ghetto slang, and hyperboles. I thought wow; I can now write the way I think. this idea really didn't help my grades a bit. Not that I did horribly in college, I got an A on almost every bluebook I took, it was those technical papers that were my gpa's downfall, and my lack of motivation to ask for help.
I hate asking for help especially with my writing, for it's something I have struggled with, and am overly sensitive about. if i ask for help its like I am admitting this flaw, acknowledging the fact that I am not perfect, or perhaps not as smart as i think i am.
this is all ironic to me, because right at the moment, professionally I am getting paid to 'type' other people's words, correct mild grammar mistakes. I get freaking complements about my judgment on their horrible handwriting. i have had horrible handwriting, which has improve a million times over through my years of education. Its actually legible (mostly). But its starting to fade because I type more then I actually write.
i wonder if there will be a day when we just type? our hands will never meet a pen?
I was going somewhere with this before i got off on a tangent of background. i just pick up another new book to read. I dont know if this makes me crazy or a genius, but i read about five or six books at one time, and never forget the plot line, the details, or have to really reread to find my place.
heres what I am reading right now-
The people's history of the world by Howard Zinn, which i pick up to read and reread.
The Martian chronicles by Ray Bradberry- my imagination goes wild with good sciencefiction, and this is a great book, but i tend to take my ideas a little too far sometimes, so I am taking a short break before i finish it.
Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities by Alexandra Robbins-
A very good book about sororities, why i am i reading it, because i find it fascinating, because its a real look and is breaking down societal and my own assumptions. but i lose my attetion and have to pick up another book..
when i was cool, my life at the jack kerouac school by Sam Kashner.
oh i am also finishing a scientfic journal on vaccines (doing research on vaccines)
so when i was cool (my life at the jack keroac) school is like a reminder of when i was 16 and in love with a boy who got me hooked onto the beats. when i was young and foolish, but it nether less reminded me of a time where i loved writting, and wrote actual letters. now i rarely get a greeting card, and everything is through email. i miss the personal written word, i miss talking about books other then everything you know is wrong..and political jargon, i miss a lot of who i use to be.
i was talking with my husband about how we have changed, and granted there are a lot of parts of me that has changed for the better, but there are parts of me that i miss, like my lust to be a writer.
I am sure an English Major would be annoyed to tears while reading my blog, because quite frankly I don't always proofread, and its a journal.
When reading "black" womens literature in college. there was a discussion on the vernacular of writing. that how one writes, is how one lives. that novels are coming out with ghetto slang, and hyperboles. I thought wow; I can now write the way I think. this idea really didn't help my grades a bit. Not that I did horribly in college, I got an A on almost every bluebook I took, it was those technical papers that were my gpa's downfall, and my lack of motivation to ask for help.
I hate asking for help especially with my writing, for it's something I have struggled with, and am overly sensitive about. if i ask for help its like I am admitting this flaw, acknowledging the fact that I am not perfect, or perhaps not as smart as i think i am.
this is all ironic to me, because right at the moment, professionally I am getting paid to 'type' other people's words, correct mild grammar mistakes. I get freaking complements about my judgment on their horrible handwriting. i have had horrible handwriting, which has improve a million times over through my years of education. Its actually legible (mostly). But its starting to fade because I type more then I actually write.
i wonder if there will be a day when we just type? our hands will never meet a pen?
I was going somewhere with this before i got off on a tangent of background. i just pick up another new book to read. I dont know if this makes me crazy or a genius, but i read about five or six books at one time, and never forget the plot line, the details, or have to really reread to find my place.
heres what I am reading right now-
The people's history of the world by Howard Zinn, which i pick up to read and reread.
The Martian chronicles by Ray Bradberry- my imagination goes wild with good sciencefiction, and this is a great book, but i tend to take my ideas a little too far sometimes, so I am taking a short break before i finish it.
Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities by Alexandra Robbins-
A very good book about sororities, why i am i reading it, because i find it fascinating, because its a real look and is breaking down societal and my own assumptions. but i lose my attetion and have to pick up another book..
when i was cool, my life at the jack kerouac school by Sam Kashner.
oh i am also finishing a scientfic journal on vaccines (doing research on vaccines)
so when i was cool (my life at the jack keroac) school is like a reminder of when i was 16 and in love with a boy who got me hooked onto the beats. when i was young and foolish, but it nether less reminded me of a time where i loved writting, and wrote actual letters. now i rarely get a greeting card, and everything is through email. i miss the personal written word, i miss talking about books other then everything you know is wrong..and political jargon, i miss a lot of who i use to be.
i was talking with my husband about how we have changed, and granted there are a lot of parts of me that has changed for the better, but there are parts of me that i miss, like my lust to be a writer.
Monday, October 15
songs...
these are the two songs that have been stuck in my brain for a bit, sorry for my commercialism, and my lack of posts...but this is how i am feeling internally, sometimes a song can say more then i can.
Eddie Vedder - Hard Sun lyrics
When I walk beside her
I am the better man
When I look to leave her
I always stagger back again
Once I built an ivory tower
So I could worship from above
When I climb down to be set free
She took me in again
[CHORUS]
There's a big
A big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
When she comes to greet me
She is mercy at my feet
I see her inner charm
She just throws it back at me
Once I dug an early grave
To find a better land
She just smiled and laughed at me
And took her rules back again
[CHORUS]
When I go to cross that river
She is comfort by my side
When I try to understand
She just opens up her hands
[CHORUS]
Once I stood to lose her
And I saw what I had done
Bowed down and threw away the hours
Of her garden and her sun
So I tried to want her
I turned to see her weep
40 days and 40 nights
And it's still coming down on me
[CHORUS]
Matchbox 20 how far we've come-
I am the better man
When I look to leave her
I always stagger back again
Once I built an ivory tower
So I could worship from above
When I climb down to be set free
She took me in again
[CHORUS]
There's a big
A big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
When she comes to greet me
She is mercy at my feet
I see her inner charm
She just throws it back at me
Once I dug an early grave
To find a better land
She just smiled and laughed at me
And took her rules back again
[CHORUS]
When I go to cross that river
She is comfort by my side
When I try to understand
She just opens up her hands
[CHORUS]
Once I stood to lose her
And I saw what I had done
Bowed down and threw away the hours
Of her garden and her sun
So I tried to want her
I turned to see her weep
40 days and 40 nights
And it's still coming down on me
[CHORUS]
Matchbox 20 how far we've come-
Waking up at the start of the end of the world,
but its feeling just like every morning before,
now I wonder what my life is going to mean if its gone,
the cars are moving like a half a mile an hour if that
I started staring at the passengers waving goodbye
can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time
[chorus]
but I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we're gonna find out
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
Well I, believe, its all, coming to an end
oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend,
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
I think its turning to a clock but I don't really know
I can't remember caring for an hour or so
started crying and I couldn't stop myself
I started running but there was no where to run to
I sat down on the street and took a look at myself
said where you going you know the world is heading for hell
say your goodbyes if you've got someone you can say goodbye to
[chorus]
I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we're gonna find out
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
Well I, believe, its all, coming to an end
oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend,
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
its gone gone baby its all gone
there is no one on the corner and there's no one at home
it was cool cool, it was just all cool
now it's over for me and it's over for you
well its gone gone baby its all gone
there is no one on the corner and there's no one at home
well it was cool cool, it was just all cool
now it's over for me and it's over for you
[chorus]
but I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we're gonna find out
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
Well I, believe, its all, coming to an end
oh well, I guess, we're gonna pretend,
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
let's see how far we've come
Wednesday, October 10
I'm the zombie in the basement
about to eat your soul. rawwwhahahaha-
are you scared yet?
I've been in a kind of mental funk lately, easily aggravated and annoyed. I been thinking about mortality, and what would happen to my son if something happened to me. i know, pretty depressing subject. i was quite bothered by the thought of him calling another women mommy. I know i am very young, and i take pretty good care of my self- but anything can happen-
this line of thinking goes much deeper, darker, and scarier for me- not a place where the public needs to view-
i have no idea whats really going on with my parents, i saw them both on saturday- everything seemed "ok", i have yet to ask my dad what he ment by asking about taking their house?
all of that is my personal garbage that is weighing on my brain, theres a bunch of other stuff- and yes i took a step and called, sighed, a therapisit- today, but of course i got voice mail and have to call back-
but lets go back to butterflies and sunshine, and refocus my thoughts on the postive-
i got a compliment on my work today 'i am suberb!"
ezra took his first steps, netherless he was holding onto a chair and pushing it, but it shows that soon he will be a totting little man-
are you scared yet?
I've been in a kind of mental funk lately, easily aggravated and annoyed. I been thinking about mortality, and what would happen to my son if something happened to me. i know, pretty depressing subject. i was quite bothered by the thought of him calling another women mommy. I know i am very young, and i take pretty good care of my self- but anything can happen-
this line of thinking goes much deeper, darker, and scarier for me- not a place where the public needs to view-
i have no idea whats really going on with my parents, i saw them both on saturday- everything seemed "ok", i have yet to ask my dad what he ment by asking about taking their house?
all of that is my personal garbage that is weighing on my brain, theres a bunch of other stuff- and yes i took a step and called, sighed, a therapisit- today, but of course i got voice mail and have to call back-
but lets go back to butterflies and sunshine, and refocus my thoughts on the postive-
i got a compliment on my work today 'i am suberb!"
ezra took his first steps, netherless he was holding onto a chair and pushing it, but it shows that soon he will be a totting little man-
Sunday, October 7
i tried, didn't I?
last night i tried to be social, but i really just wanted to hide away. some people don't get that, there are times where a book would satisfy my need for fun or sociability. but i tried. i tried for my cynical husband could chant oddities in the nights air. his way of challenging the masses, and making a barrier from the rest of the world. I am so ingrained at the goofy shit that comes out of his mouth, it doesn't phase me. i also know who he is, and know that some of it it's just a persona he puts on.
Friday, October 5
why cant we be happpy shining people?
i just want to be happy, or at least i want my family to be happy, and that includes my own parents. after close to 28 years of marriage, the word divorce is sprung in the air. trust me this is not the first time this word has been spoken by their mouths..i don't know if its really going to happen, or a thought of this moment.. and if its really going to happen this time, then why am i so sad? if you know my life story, you know that quite frankly i wished they done it a long time ago...
i love them both, but in different ways. on some levels i am daddy's little girl, and some levels, he has caused me a lot of pain...the same thing with my mom..
oh trust me my family has a lot of complications, enough to send a girl like me to therapy. and all families have complications..but a friend of mine said she was attracted to me because i had that look in my eye..well i do...that look...
i am adult with a family of my own, its my only child syndrome that desperately knows that this is going to be very difficult to deal with if they do? i don't know, why couldn't they do this sooner?
maybe i should go talk to a professional listener, maybe it would help, because this blog isnt really helping me get out what i want to say in my soul, and i really dont want the whole world to hear it.
things will get better for me? right? i have a beautiful child, a great husband-
but i have finacial problems, and family problems that i cant control! maybe i should just realize it...
i love them both, but in different ways. on some levels i am daddy's little girl, and some levels, he has caused me a lot of pain...the same thing with my mom..
oh trust me my family has a lot of complications, enough to send a girl like me to therapy. and all families have complications..but a friend of mine said she was attracted to me because i had that look in my eye..well i do...that look...
i am adult with a family of my own, its my only child syndrome that desperately knows that this is going to be very difficult to deal with if they do? i don't know, why couldn't they do this sooner?
maybe i should go talk to a professional listener, maybe it would help, because this blog isnt really helping me get out what i want to say in my soul, and i really dont want the whole world to hear it.
things will get better for me? right? i have a beautiful child, a great husband-
but i have finacial problems, and family problems that i cant control! maybe i should just realize it...
Thursday, October 4
not having a good day
someone want to save me from my headache/migraine thats been racking my brain since about 11am this morning? please?
the little boy skipped his 3 o'clock nap to fall asleep around 615- i am wondering since its so close to bedtime he will stay asleep or wake up around bedtime and be a hassle to get back to bed-i just didn't have the energy to make him stay awake for another hour- Thursday is usually his sleep day since he gets so tuckered out by daycare- he doesn't nap there well, and i think hes like his mama who needs complete quite to get to bed-
so i am not having a good day, work was stressful, my bank account is stressful, and i am losing my health insurance...
http://www.census.gov/prod/2007pubs/p60-233.pdf
sigh!
the little boy skipped his 3 o'clock nap to fall asleep around 615- i am wondering since its so close to bedtime he will stay asleep or wake up around bedtime and be a hassle to get back to bed-i just didn't have the energy to make him stay awake for another hour- Thursday is usually his sleep day since he gets so tuckered out by daycare- he doesn't nap there well, and i think hes like his mama who needs complete quite to get to bed-
so i am not having a good day, work was stressful, my bank account is stressful, and i am losing my health insurance...
http://www.census.gov/prod/2007pubs/p60-233.pdf
sigh!
Wednesday, October 3
now thats a big pumpkin and other oddities
As you can see when I have a little to much time on my hands, i think of oddities. so enjoy this little bit of information about weird fruits and veggies. mainly focusing on my weird obsession with tomato's, and i included some huge pumpkins for fun.
doesn't it just make you giggle to say, check out bigpumpkins.com? come on just a little bit? or am i the only child in the room?
Tomato fruit
Botanically, a tomato is the ovary, together with its seeds, of a flowering plant: a fruit or, more precisely, a berry. However, the tomato is not as sweet as those foodstuffs usually called fruits and, from a culinary standpoint, it is typically served as part of a salad or main course of a meal, as are vegetables, rather than at dessert, as are fruits. As noted above, the term "vegetable" has no botanical meaning and is purely a culinary term.
This argument has had legal implications in the United States. In 1887, U.S. tariff laws that imposed a duty on vegetables but not on fruits caused the tomato's status to become a matter of legal importance. The U.S. Supreme Court settled the controversy in 1893 by declaring that the tomato is a vegetable, based on the popular definition that classifies vegetables by use, that they are generally served with dinner and not dessert (Nix v. Hedden (149 U.S. 304)). The holding of the case applies only to the interpretation of the Tariff Act of March 3, 1883, and the court did not purport to reclassify the tomato for botanical or other purposes other than paying a tax under a tariff act.
The tomato has been designated the state vegetable of New Jersey. Arkansas took both sides by declaring the "South Arkansas Vine Ripe Pink Tomato" to be both the state fruit and the state vegetable in the same law, citing both its botanical and culinary classifications. In 2006, the Ohio House of Representatives passed a law that would have declared the tomato to be the official state fruit, but the bill died when the Ohio Senate failed to act on it. Tomato juice has been the official beverage of Ohio since 1965. A.W. Livingston, of Reynoldsburg, Ohio played a large part in popularizing the tomato in the late 1800's.
But due to the scientific definition of a fruit, the tomato remains a fruit when not dealing with US tariffs. Nor is it the only culinary vegetable that is a botanical fruit: eggplants, cucumbers, and squashes of all kinds (such as zucchini and pumpkins) share the same ambiguity.
Originally cultivated by the famously blood thirsty Aztecs and Incas as early as 700 A.D., the tomato is native to the Americas. The Spanish explorer Cortez conquered the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, later to be renamed Mexico City, in 1521. It is presumed that the tomato found its' way across the Atlantic shortly after. When explorers brought back seed to Europe from Mexico.
The name "tomato" derives from "tomatl," its name in Nahuatl, the language of the Aztec people. The English form "tomate" first appeared in the 17th century, and was later modified to "tomato," probably under the influence of the more familiar "potato." Most of these early fruits were yellow, and became known as "manzanas" (apples) and "pomi d'oro" (apple of gold). They were considered poisonous but appreciated for their beauty.tomatoes are evil and deadly
As the tomato arrived in Europe the plant became associated with poisonous members of the Solanceae family, specifically henbane, mandrake and deadly nightshade, to which it bore more than a passing resemblance. Deadly nightshade is a poisonous plant which has been used as both a hallucinogenic drug and a beauty aid in different parts of Europe. The Latin name "belladonna" means beautiful woman, in the medieval courts of Europe ladies would apply a few drops of nightshade extract to their eyes to dilate their pupils, a look considered most fashionable at the time.
The hallucinogenic properties of the plant, comprised of visions and the sense of flying. This most led to the association of the nightshade family with witchcraft. German folklore claims that witches used plants like mandrake and nightshade to summon werewolves, a practice known as lycanthropy. The common German name for tomatoes translates to "wolf peach", and because of this it was universally avoided. In the 18th century the tomato species was named Lycopersicon esculentum, which literally means, "edible wolf peach".
Despite it's association with Witches and the Black Arts, early efforts to peddle the tomato were not highly successful. Even in one of America's towns most associated with Witchcraft - the hamlet of Salem, Massachusetts a painter hoping to make a little extra money selling the fruit had difficulty even convincing people to taste the red fruit.
The Tomatoes connection with bloodshed continued in Europe. During the French Revolution in 1783 the patriotic Republican citizens of Paris who wore the Red Cap as a mark of faith in the Republic. While thier main aim was beheading aristcrats they still had to eat. They were addressed on one occasion by a zealous chef who suggested that the faithful should eat red food to demonstrate their devotion to the revolution. The Tomato was known to be popular in various southern parts of the continent but was not recommended by the French Aristocracy, making it the perfect mascot for the blood thirsty hordes. It quickly became the fruit of choice to the Republican masses and came to be served as stewed side dishes and as summer salads.
On September 26th, 1830, Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson stood on the steps of the courthouse in Salem, Massachusetts with a basket of potentially toxic fruit. Despite warnings that its poison would turn his blood to acid, he told several hundred cheering spectators that he planned to eat the entire basket - and survive. "The foolish Colonel will foam and froth at the mouth," his own doctor shouted, "and double over with appendicitis. All that oxalic acid - one dose and he is dead. He might even be exposing himself to brain fever. Should he by some unlikely chance survive his skin will stick to his stomach and cause cancer." Johnson, wearing black, ate the entire basket and indeed survived. The source of this story was an old farm journal, and may be less than reliable. If it is true, he was lucky those fruit were Tomatoes which as the evidence shows are Evil.
tomatoes - a potted history
In 1897, Joseph Campbell came up with the idea of condensed tomato soup - by reducing water in the tin, storage and shipping costs were reduced.
Campbell's soup packaging later became iconic when Andy Warhol used the image in more than 100 pop-art works. According to art myth: Andy Warhol's mother served him tomato soup for lunch for twenty years which was why he painted tomato soup cans.
Andy Warhol was known for dissolving the boundaries between high and low culture: he used silkscreening techniques to mechanically reproduce consumer images such Campbell's soup cans.
Also in the late sixties sci-fi flick Attack of the Killer Tomatoes was released, so sucessful was this characterising of the evil fruit that a sequel was later made.
In 1948 Tomato juice is combined with other juices in V8 Vegetable juice which was acquired by Campbell's. It advertised it, using movie actor Ronald Reagan as a spokesman, among others.
In 1981, the USDA chairman declared ketchup to be a vegetable in order to justify Reagan administration budget cuts in the school lunch program. President Nixon covered his cottage cheese with Tomato Ketchup.(see also tomato health facts)
Do NOT allow this abomination into your food, your fridges or your lives.How much more proof do you need?
doesn't it just make you giggle to say, check out bigpumpkins.com? come on just a little bit? or am i the only child in the room?
Tomato fruit
Botanically, a tomato is the ovary, together with its seeds, of a flowering plant: a fruit or, more precisely, a berry. However, the tomato is not as sweet as those foodstuffs usually called fruits and, from a culinary standpoint, it is typically served as part of a salad or main course of a meal, as are vegetables, rather than at dessert, as are fruits. As noted above, the term "vegetable" has no botanical meaning and is purely a culinary term.
This argument has had legal implications in the United States. In 1887, U.S. tariff laws that imposed a duty on vegetables but not on fruits caused the tomato's status to become a matter of legal importance. The U.S. Supreme Court settled the controversy in 1893 by declaring that the tomato is a vegetable, based on the popular definition that classifies vegetables by use, that they are generally served with dinner and not dessert (Nix v. Hedden (149 U.S. 304)). The holding of the case applies only to the interpretation of the Tariff Act of March 3, 1883, and the court did not purport to reclassify the tomato for botanical or other purposes other than paying a tax under a tariff act.
The tomato has been designated the state vegetable of New Jersey. Arkansas took both sides by declaring the "South Arkansas Vine Ripe Pink Tomato" to be both the state fruit and the state vegetable in the same law, citing both its botanical and culinary classifications. In 2006, the Ohio House of Representatives passed a law that would have declared the tomato to be the official state fruit, but the bill died when the Ohio Senate failed to act on it. Tomato juice has been the official beverage of Ohio since 1965. A.W. Livingston, of Reynoldsburg, Ohio played a large part in popularizing the tomato in the late 1800's.
But due to the scientific definition of a fruit, the tomato remains a fruit when not dealing with US tariffs. Nor is it the only culinary vegetable that is a botanical fruit: eggplants, cucumbers, and squashes of all kinds (such as zucchini and pumpkins) share the same ambiguity.
Wow i am so glad that i live in a state that it's house of Representatives try to pass laws making tomato the state fruit. i am glad they have so much to do with their free time. but i do love tomato's.
this is from a website- tomato's are evil
Originally cultivated by the famously blood thirsty Aztecs and Incas as early as 700 A.D., the tomato is native to the Americas. The Spanish explorer Cortez conquered the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan, later to be renamed Mexico City, in 1521. It is presumed that the tomato found its' way across the Atlantic shortly after. When explorers brought back seed to Europe from Mexico.
The name "tomato" derives from "tomatl," its name in Nahuatl, the language of the Aztec people. The English form "tomate" first appeared in the 17th century, and was later modified to "tomato," probably under the influence of the more familiar "potato." Most of these early fruits were yellow, and became known as "manzanas" (apples) and "pomi d'oro" (apple of gold). They were considered poisonous but appreciated for their beauty.tomatoes are evil and deadly
As the tomato arrived in Europe the plant became associated with poisonous members of the Solanceae family, specifically henbane, mandrake and deadly nightshade, to which it bore more than a passing resemblance. Deadly nightshade is a poisonous plant which has been used as both a hallucinogenic drug and a beauty aid in different parts of Europe. The Latin name "belladonna" means beautiful woman, in the medieval courts of Europe ladies would apply a few drops of nightshade extract to their eyes to dilate their pupils, a look considered most fashionable at the time.
The hallucinogenic properties of the plant, comprised of visions and the sense of flying. This most led to the association of the nightshade family with witchcraft. German folklore claims that witches used plants like mandrake and nightshade to summon werewolves, a practice known as lycanthropy. The common German name for tomatoes translates to "wolf peach", and because of this it was universally avoided. In the 18th century the tomato species was named Lycopersicon esculentum, which literally means, "edible wolf peach".
Despite it's association with Witches and the Black Arts, early efforts to peddle the tomato were not highly successful. Even in one of America's towns most associated with Witchcraft - the hamlet of Salem, Massachusetts a painter hoping to make a little extra money selling the fruit had difficulty even convincing people to taste the red fruit.
The Tomatoes connection with bloodshed continued in Europe. During the French Revolution in 1783 the patriotic Republican citizens of Paris who wore the Red Cap as a mark of faith in the Republic. While thier main aim was beheading aristcrats they still had to eat. They were addressed on one occasion by a zealous chef who suggested that the faithful should eat red food to demonstrate their devotion to the revolution. The Tomato was known to be popular in various southern parts of the continent but was not recommended by the French Aristocracy, making it the perfect mascot for the blood thirsty hordes. It quickly became the fruit of choice to the Republican masses and came to be served as stewed side dishes and as summer salads.
On September 26th, 1830, Colonel Robert Gibbon Johnson stood on the steps of the courthouse in Salem, Massachusetts with a basket of potentially toxic fruit. Despite warnings that its poison would turn his blood to acid, he told several hundred cheering spectators that he planned to eat the entire basket - and survive. "The foolish Colonel will foam and froth at the mouth," his own doctor shouted, "and double over with appendicitis. All that oxalic acid - one dose and he is dead. He might even be exposing himself to brain fever. Should he by some unlikely chance survive his skin will stick to his stomach and cause cancer." Johnson, wearing black, ate the entire basket and indeed survived. The source of this story was an old farm journal, and may be less than reliable. If it is true, he was lucky those fruit were Tomatoes which as the evidence shows are Evil.
tomatoes - a potted history
In 1897, Joseph Campbell came up with the idea of condensed tomato soup - by reducing water in the tin, storage and shipping costs were reduced.
Campbell's soup packaging later became iconic when Andy Warhol used the image in more than 100 pop-art works. According to art myth: Andy Warhol's mother served him tomato soup for lunch for twenty years which was why he painted tomato soup cans.
Andy Warhol was known for dissolving the boundaries between high and low culture: he used silkscreening techniques to mechanically reproduce consumer images such Campbell's soup cans.
Also in the late sixties sci-fi flick Attack of the Killer Tomatoes was released, so sucessful was this characterising of the evil fruit that a sequel was later made.
In 1948 Tomato juice is combined with other juices in V8 Vegetable juice which was acquired by Campbell's. It advertised it, using movie actor Ronald Reagan as a spokesman, among others.
In 1981, the USDA chairman declared ketchup to be a vegetable in order to justify Reagan administration budget cuts in the school lunch program. President Nixon covered his cottage cheese with Tomato Ketchup.(see also tomato health facts)
Do NOT allow this abomination into your food, your fridges or your lives.How much more proof do you need?
Tuesday, October 2
Monday, October 1
what stays in vegas, stays in vegas
that was my saturday night.
so it stays in vegas!
what i did learn from the experience, is i am totally in the dark when a person is hitting on me. i am totally oblivious to it. even if my husband sometimes can be a butt, i love him. no matter what. in the world's eyes he might not be the sexist man, and some would say i could do better. but i find him sexy, and thats all that matters. he gets me, or is learning how to get me, and i never have ever found him at all boring. i find a lot of people boring very quickly.
i learned that people's impressions of me, are a lot diffrent in reallity that they are in my head. i have wow a pretty negative view over myself. no one has a perfect life. sometimes we don't allow the outside world to view the world that lies within us.
sometimes you just got to be real with one each other. its hard then written or spoken. to be truthful, to state your mind, because the truth hurts. truth is not always in a litle wrapped box with a bow attached on the outside of it.
i feel like the oustider again at work, we are working at a confrence at the hilton.
so it stays in vegas!
what i did learn from the experience, is i am totally in the dark when a person is hitting on me. i am totally oblivious to it. even if my husband sometimes can be a butt, i love him. no matter what. in the world's eyes he might not be the sexist man, and some would say i could do better. but i find him sexy, and thats all that matters. he gets me, or is learning how to get me, and i never have ever found him at all boring. i find a lot of people boring very quickly.
i learned that people's impressions of me, are a lot diffrent in reallity that they are in my head. i have wow a pretty negative view over myself. no one has a perfect life. sometimes we don't allow the outside world to view the world that lies within us.
sometimes you just got to be real with one each other. its hard then written or spoken. to be truthful, to state your mind, because the truth hurts. truth is not always in a litle wrapped box with a bow attached on the outside of it.
i feel like the oustider again at work, we are working at a confrence at the hilton.
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