September 20th, 2001

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Thousands of Afghans fled cities fearing a U.S. punishment strike. Relief agencies warned of a devastating human disaster. With a bitter winter on the way, some refugees are already being forced to eat grass and animal fodder.

"What's the use of sending a $2 million missile into a $10 tent to hit a camel in the butt?" Bush said in private talks with members of Congress last week, according to aides.
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Okay now it's working, I think, phew. If you want to see pictures of my cats or my house, (some of you have already seen these) all you have to do is come to my actual journal and the links are in the box at the top. Sheesh, why are these tiny little changes so hard for me?

Does anyone know how to mmake there be less room between my name and the userinfo link so that my user pic and the links will be centered together?

Must leave the house...
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A friend of mine wrote this. I think it's really well written. I wish they'd publish it.

Date: Fri, 14 Sep 2001 01:31:33 -0700
To: <letters@latimes.com>
Subject: Jerry Falwell's God

To The Editor: Like most Americans, I have been in front of the TV for days.
I have seen numberless stories about the "Missing". But one really got to
me, about a financial executive who didn't work at the WTC, but had a
Tuesday AM meeting on the 105th floor of the North Tower. CNN interviewed
his wife, a very intelligent and spiritual woman, and his parents, a "real
salt of the earth", 2nd or 3rd generation Italian/American couple from New
Jersey. They showed some video of this guy, and I liked him immediately. A
big, good natured galoot, a bit of a joker. Someone who 'took care of
business', but didn't take things all that seriously. His mother called him
"The Moose", which made them all laugh. He was shown playing with his
daughters, 3 and 5, like he was a kid, too. His wife said she "couldn't feel
him anymore". But, it was his dad that made me cry. He looked old enough to
have served in WW II. He could be a member of "Hollywood's Eternal American
Infantry Squad", the tough, wise cracking Italian kid from Hoboken, who was
deeper than he let on. This sweet old guy didn't seem angry, just bemused.
He shook his head: "I don't know what kind of God these guys have", he said,
"But it ain't my God." As he spoke, the 'crawl' at the bottom of the screen
read: "Rev. Jerry Falwell says Pagans, abortionists, feminists, gays and
lesbians have brought this attack upon the United States". I looked at that
sweet old guy from Jersey and thought, "You're right, Pop's. Mohhamid Atta's
God is not your God, but it sure seems like He is Jerry's God."
Michael Varien Daly, Beverly Hills
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I pulled out half of my dreads, I'm going to miss them so much, they were pretty and fun. I couldn't take the pingy hair pulling pain any longer though, plus some guy screamed "Eeeewwwwww" at me really loudly from a passing car. Why do I have to be so sensitive? It amazes me that I kept them in for as long as I did. I was only going to do it for Burning Man, but now I love having colorful alternative hair so much that I'm going to have to go back to Sonia and figure something less painful out. I'm afraid to see what my hair is going to be like when they're all out. Maybe Noemi will help me cut some more of them out before she goes to bed.

I let Beau have his friend Solloman ( I can't spell this tonight, no matter what I write it looks weird, hunh) over for the night. Big mistake. I should have known there was no way they would go to sleep. Argh. No more weeknight spend the nights, nope, nu unh. He tried to weasel out of it as usual. Blamed Sauloman, told me they had been sleeping, yeah right. I had told him he had to turn off the TV, but there it was on Cartoon Network, with the volume way up. Man. I hate having to be the rule setting, punishment meting parent, hate it, hate it, hate it. I so remember screwing around at sleep overs at friends houses, and their parents seeming like these big mean scary monsters. It was so much fun being naughty. I really really really tried to work this out in advance with Beau though. I told him that in order for me to agree to his having his pal over on a weeknight they would have to promise to go to bed when I said so, and not screw around at all. Then I reminded him again this morning, and then again when I picked him up from school, and then again when it was time to go to bed. I guess it's just too tempting to talk and screw around. He is going to be exhausted tomorrow because he stayed up late last night too.

It's nice to be focused on mundane problems again.