I'm too busy for this blog.

Today's haiku brought to you by Right Said Fred because I still have a lot of packing to do.

You know what I mean
I'm too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts

Do these bikini models with cameras make me look straight?

Call Me "Kiddo"

I bought my tickets! I'm flying to Minnesota at the end of the month to go on a road trip with my dad. We're driving to Montana with his girlfriend to see my little sisters, both of whom just had kids.

This post is in honor of the guy who has never batted an eye about anything I've ever told him. Except when I wouldn't eat my beets. That was pretty serious.

Haiku for 2,368 Miles

I was daddy's girl
Now I am my father's son
Some things never change

I am stoked to spend many hours confined in a hybrid car with this guy.

Queers of the Stone Age, or My Dinner with Homo Erectus

At dinner tonight (a Women's Freedom Center fundraiser at Fireworks), I was complaining (like I do) about having to eat multiple times a day in order to maintain the high metabolism of a warm-blooded mammal. I am missing the evolutionary characteristic of thinking about food between meals. I should have been a snake. Then I could eat once a month for about five hours, get a big kick out of it, and go back to living my life.

I suggested that, in the stone ages when there were no restaurants, I would have died already. Another friend, who wears glasses, worried they would also be dead, having been eaten by something big. Then it dawned on me that prehistoric us might have teamed up and saved each other's lives. My cave-buddy would remind me to eat, as I looked out for danger.

We think it would go a little something like this:

Haiku for Paleolithic Cooperation

There's no glasses yet
Hold my hand and run with me
There's a bear coming

Many hands make light work. And sometimes dinner.

Twue Wuv, or How I Learned to Equate Misogyny with Romance

Last night I watched an old favorite movie with some friends. We sat out on their lawn with the video projected onto the side of the house. It was nice to watch it with someone who had loved it and who shares my politics, so we could quote along and then criticize the hell out of it. For example, I hadn't realized how heavily the film's humor relies on characters' speech impediments. Westley taking time out from saving Buttercup to raise his hand to her (the consequence for women who lie) also made me squirm. Forget about passing the Bechdel Test. There are only three speaking roles for women, and they're a hapless princess, Miracle Max's wife (whom he calls a witch), and the old crone who boos at Buttercup in her nightmares.

Still, I laughed a lot and might inadvertently find myself saying, "Have fun storming the castle!" someday soon.

Haiku for The Princess Bride

"Inconceivable!"
I do not think that word means 
What you think it means.

"We" "win" !! (??)

Sometimes there's so much to say that I spend days writing and rewriting. In the end, it comes down to the wise words of a friend (also a blogger) and 17 syllables.

Haiku for Equality

Acceptable queers 
were invisible or dead.
Great! Now add "married."