Another step forward for women's rights

Mexico City set to legalize abortion. Within the first trimester, for any reason.

If I must be a zombie can I at least eat brains?

There are few things in the world as horrifyingly annoying as nosebleeds, which I have had far more than my fair share of lately.

The absolute worst are (relatively) early in the morning when you're still in bed and juuuuust the conscious side of sleep. Oh bother, you think groggily, I need a tissue. Then you sit up and an unhealthy quantity of fluid starts dripping. Finally, if you're me, you open your eyes and see that the fluid is in fact blood, which causes your adrenal glands to jump-start your body and you trip over yourself trying to reach the tissues on your desk. In the process blood will drip all over your pillowcase, nighttime attire, floor, hands, and desk. You will also, for a distinct few seconds, come within a hair's breadth of passing out, for two reasons: One, you just went from 'fully relaxed and reclined' to 'madly dashing across the room fumbling for things' in slightly less than a quarter of a second, and Two, blood is oozing out of a bodily orifice at a rate that I estimate is most frequently the result of getting mauled by a fully-grown Grizzly bear.

Once more with feeling: I HATE ALLERGIES!

Gun control? Why?

Argh. Between senator's aides carrying unlicensed weapons around the Capitol and this, I'm really missing the UK's attitude towards guns right now.

Gay voodoo limbo tango and wango!

If you're within a certain age bracket in America, and especially if you go/went to public high school, you already know that military recruiters are annoying pricks more often than they're not. But this is just weird:

YOU GO BACK TO AFRICA AND DO YOUR GAY VOODOO LIMBO TANGO AND WANGO DANCE AND JUMP AROUND AND PRANCE AND RUN ALL OVER THE PLACE HALF NAKED THERE AND PRACTICE YOUR GAY MORALS OVER THERE THAT'S WHERE YOU BELONG....I AM REPORTING YOU AS SPAM AND ADDING YOU TO MY BLOCK SENDER LIST SO I DO NOT HAVE TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN....

An army recruiter pulled a guy's email off a job board. He replied saying he's gay, can he still serve? She immediately switched to all-caps and briskly said no. It descended into a most fantastic display of idiotic bigotry, mostly but not entirely on the part of the recruiter.

Ladies and gentlemen, the US Army.

On the upside, it now gives me an excuse to use the phrase "gay limbo tango and wango", which honest to god, is probably the most poetic thing I've read in a while.

The flying, oh god, the flying.

The flight home for break two weeks ago: absolutely fine. Considering my luck, it made me suspicious. No delays, no lost bags. A couple screaming babies, but, hey. It got me there on-time.
Today, flying back to school? Heh.

The originally theory was this: A flight from Philly to Minneapolis at 8:30. An hour layover. Then Minneapolis to Albuquerque, getting me into Albuquerque around 1:30, back on campus by three or so.

What happened:

I got to the airport and everything was fine until I was actually on the plane. It started with us waiting a couple minutes for them to make some sort of repair. Then a few more minutes. Then the repair was made, and we were waiting for someone to sign off on it. Then a few more minutes waiting. Then, about half an hour after we should have been in the air, the information that it would be at least another 45 minutes. Because no one qualified to inspect the repair was at the airport. Because why would they have qualified technicians, you know, at the airport?

So I called my father and asked him to check out my options, as I had clearly missed my connection on to Albuquerque. The airline (hint: NW) had no more flights from Minneapolis to Albuquerque. Another one (hint: AA) had a Philly -> Dallas -> Albuquerque flight leaving at 11:45, arriving in Albuquerque around 4:30. I wait in line at the gate. Forever. I call the first airline, explain the situation. They agree it is problematic and put me on the AA flight. They tell me explicitly to go to the AA ticket counter. The line, where one person is at the podium, has not moved.

AA operates, in Philly, out of terminal A. NW operates out of terminal E. In order to get from one to the other one must walk about half a mile outside. I do so. I wait in line. The agent there says no, I need to go talk to the NW ticket counter. I walk back to terminal E. I wait in line. They also say I should've gone there first. "Here, give them this. They probably won't get your luggage in time, so if it's not in Albuquerque you'll need to file the claim with AA." I feel stupid. I again walk to terminal A. They look at the flight and say:

That flight's completely overbooked. I can't put you on it.

I, having woken far earlier than is healthy, laugh a bit and ask if she's kidding. She's not. But she can put me on a 1:30 flight to Dallas and then a five o'clock flight to Albuquerque. I say fine, because at this point, I do not care. I am late and would very much like to return to New Mexico, preferably today. She puts me on the flight, hands me my boarding passes, and says that they probably don't have my luggage. I know, I say. "If it's not in Albuquerque when you get there you need to file a claim with NW," they say. Hey, let's play "pass the passenger!".

I go upstairs. I wait in like at security. Since the computer thinks I just purchased my ticket three hours before the flight, that means I'm a terrorist and I get searched extra. There is a moment of terror as the TSA drone manhandles my violin, and a worse moment when I think he's going to smear whatever explosives-detecting chemical-laden swab over my baby (that would be the violin). In their exhaustive search of my person and my belongings they do not so much as open the violin case.

I spend the rest of the day playing "I should have been in Albuquerque x hours ago". It's a fun game. Both flights are extremely turbulent. I arrive in Albuquerque. I wait in line at the AA baggage office, because NW does not appear to have one, and I am very tired and would like to stop being in an airport. Finally, I thrust my bag-claim sticker at him, and say something along the lines of, "Here is a bag claim from an airline that is not yours, but I just flew your airline anyway. The bag does not appear to be here; it might be in Philly or Minneapolis or Dallas or someplace else altogether. I do not care where it is, I would like it to be in Santa Fe." He says it should be delivered to my dorm tomorrow morning. I begin to leave, then remember that my toothbrush (amongst other things, such as my math text book and, you know, clothing) is in my bag, which is not in the same airport as myself. I ask if they have any of those little toiletry kits. They do.

I finally get on the shuttle and get dropped off at school. I borrow my roommate's contact lens solution, as mine is in my suitcase (which is in a state that is not New Mexico). I call my parents to inform them that I am alive and in Santa Fe, write this up so I won't forget all the great fun I had, and though it is early, it is now time for me to go and lie in bed and attempt to read for all of thirty seconds before sleep consumes me.

Fun fact of the day:

It is estimated that 15% to 25% of the world's construction cranes are currently at work in the city of Dubai, in the UAE.

Glee! Glee and joy! And fluff and stuff!

The New York Times is now offering free Times Select subscriptions to anyone who's got a .edu address.

May I just say "glee"?

In other news, my two-week blogging vanishing act was due to a succession of papers for school and colds. Now it's spring break, but since I'm a sophomore at a college that is deeply demented, that means I'm spending all of it writing the essay that, if it's good, means I get to finish my degree. No pressure or anything.

Oh, Dante. He was such a joker.

Reasons why I like the UK more than the US, # 1,242

Real gun laws. Meaningful gun laws.

Some places in the US, you can legally own automatic assault rifles. In the UK? If you want to legally purchase a gun you'd best come up with an extraordinary reason why.

On the other hand, the UK does have stuff like this, the apparently infinite Diana Debacle.

OK: she was a public figure, sure. I'm a bit baffled by that as well, but I just don't get celebrity culture. Whatever. She died in a car accident. Most non-crazy people (ie, those who don't believe the CIA had her picked off) understand what happened: she got in a car. The driver was drunk. The driver drove very fast, into a tunnel. The driver crashed. Neither driver nor passenger were wearing seatbelts. Both driver and passenger died. The same thing happens a tragic number of times, around the world, every year. It's a huge problem here in NM.

So, OK, maybe the persistent interest is nothing more than Pretty White Girl syndrome. She was rich, attractive, charismatic, 'upper-class', and died young.

What the hell is left to inquire into? A guy was drunk. He got in a car accident. People died. What does anyone expect the investigation will say? "Yes, we...forced him to get drunk?"

I don't get it.

Oh god....

My second reaction to this was a rush of horrid guilt at my initial reaction.

But my first reaction was: Oh god yes the Uprising has come! Our Robot Masters are rising up!

Robot attack kills two British soldiers in Afghanistan.

Superman doesn't save the day.

Best BBC news article ever. A woman in the US crashes her car into the DMV. It's in Florida, of course, because that's where these things happen. The best part, though, is this at the very end:

The videotape also shows a man in a Superman costume walking around the car, but he did not stop to help the driver or any of the victims. His identity is unknown.

Oh, Florida.

US v People who want to sue the US

Interesting article on church/state issues from the Washington Post. The question seems to mostly come down to whether or not the executive branch is the same in terms of the first amendment.