Blog posts may be slim pickins till Sunday because I am at a dear friend's wedding in Atlanta.
He is standing right behind me as I write this, so I want to tell America what a hot, sexy, rockin' smart, charming, deee-licious---and humble---man he is. His name is Notorious B and I remember deciding that he and I would be great friends after he and I ate 25 cent ice cream cones in Athens, GA at Hodgsons, one of those old-time "soda fountain/lunch counter in the back of the pharmacy" places. We shared ice cream cones and an issue of Cosmo and discussed "Women: Friend or Foe?" We agreed: FOE. Except me. Big time friend.
But the real reason I love Notorious B is that he is quite simply Genius At Work. He is a lawyer who writes screenplays that win awards, who makes me laugh and who has the most astonishing command of the language of anyone I've ever met. He really is going to be famous someday, and he has promised me a plum role as Crack Ho #2 in his first film...and I'll only have to sleep with three key grips to get it. (Only three! Sweeet!) So this is your advance notice to join Netflix and get that queue ready for my silver screen debut.
Okay--so: short story long~Notorious B--dear friend, smart, funny guy. And astonishingly attractive for multiple reasons--most particularly because he is smart enough to be marrying a smart, funny and take-no-crap woman who doesn't mind him having a female friend who calls him deee-licious on a public blog. ;)
Reports from the wedding to follow.
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
On Lying
Lying is such an interesting behavior, because we all do it even though it is perhaps one of the first habits that our parents teach us is wrong. When you are young, you just know that lying is wrong and that if you lie to your parents you will be in double trouble: first for the transgression and then for the lie. I learned early and definitively that it was best to be in only one kind of trouble with my parental units, especially as I sensed their disappointment in me for being untruthful. I could live with the guilt of smacking my sister in the face and getting busted; I could not live with the disappointment in my parents voices when they found out I was lying to their faces (and doing a convincing job of it to boot) about having started the melee to begin with.
As we get older, we realize that there are nuances to lying. There is the Social Nicety lying, such as “I love your dress!” or “Have you lost weight!?” as well as “Oh I can’t make it tonight; I”ve got to shampoo my hair.” There is the Saving of Feelings lying, “It’s not you; it’s me.” These are socially acceptable in many circumstances and in fact contribute to civil human relations in our society.
In the other corner, there are the lies that are never okay, but that sometimes masquerade as the benign lies outlined above. There is the good old outright A**-Saving lying such as, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman--Miss Lewinsky” or “I did not smack my sister in the face for no reason.” There is the Actively Evil Narcissistic lying such as, “I would never sleep with your sister/friend/a random woman on my vacation and then come home and sleep with you! I love you!” There is the Avoidance lying such as, "I was out with friends last night {one of whom is a woman I plan to dump you for as soon as she gives the signal}" or finding ways to not mention that you have a girlfriend, even if it means leaving out entire sections of anecdotes and details about your life in conversations with others.
I’m sure I’m missing a whole slew of categories, like Diplomatic lying which countries do every minute, and Insecure lying, which people tend to do on internet dating sites as if the person will never find out that you don’t actually own a dog or have an athletic build. Any others I'm missing?
By the time we reach adulthood, I think we have all found ourselves in situations where someone in our life just can’t help him or herself, and simply lies all the time about matters great and small. On one level, it is unfortunate for them, because it shows that they don’t possess the confidence in themselves or the faith in you to hear the truth and be okay with it. Even if they are telling you something really terrible, in my case at least, I’d always just prefer to know the truth and work toward a solution from there. On another level, having a friend lie to you constantly can only make you feel disrespected and expendable. After all, if a friend can’t trust you enough to be honest with you and know that you will still love them, if perhaps a bit angry at them, what kind of friendship do you really actually have, right?
In any case, lies are so unfortunate because they strip away the foundation of any friendship, which is trust. A good friend of mine just ended a friendship with someone she has known for many years for that precise reason. It became impossible to know whether anything the friend said was truthful. No one is arguing for complete honesty in human relations, but she realized that the “benign untruths” her friend was telling her were not benign at all. The difference being that benign untruths are designed to spare your friend’s feelings. “A**-Saving Lies” are designed to spare YOURSELF some hassle, agro or natural consequences for your actions. It can become easy to convince yourself that your a**-saving lies are benign untruths in service of a friends’ feelings, simply because it is often easier to pretend that the absence of conflict with a friend is a favor to the friend rather than a favor to yourself.
Whenever I am tempted to tell an a**-saving lie, I remind myself that I will then have to come up with—and remember—ten more lies to cover this one lie, and if I’m discovered, I’ll never be able to convince my loved one that my intentions were good. After all, one lie can be forgiven on the basis of erring is human. Ten lies indicate a commitment to the lies, a need for the lies, and a shocking ability to tell a host of them without blinking…all of which will dismantle your relationship (and your friend’s trust) piece by piece. C.E Montague said it best:
A lie will easily get you out of a scrape, and yet, strangely and beautifully, rapture possesses you when you have taken the scrape and left out the lie.
So where does this leave my friend? I had no real advice for her other than to know that she did the right thing for herself—and perhaps for her friend too. Because sometimes we can only learn the value of honesty by losing the very things that we thought our lies were preserving.
As we get older, we realize that there are nuances to lying. There is the Social Nicety lying, such as “I love your dress!” or “Have you lost weight!?” as well as “Oh I can’t make it tonight; I”ve got to shampoo my hair.” There is the Saving of Feelings lying, “It’s not you; it’s me.” These are socially acceptable in many circumstances and in fact contribute to civil human relations in our society.
In the other corner, there are the lies that are never okay, but that sometimes masquerade as the benign lies outlined above. There is the good old outright A**-Saving lying such as, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman--Miss Lewinsky” or “I did not smack my sister in the face for no reason.” There is the Actively Evil Narcissistic lying such as, “I would never sleep with your sister/friend/a random woman on my vacation and then come home and sleep with you! I love you!” There is the Avoidance lying such as, "I was out with friends last night {one of whom is a woman I plan to dump you for as soon as she gives the signal}" or finding ways to not mention that you have a girlfriend, even if it means leaving out entire sections of anecdotes and details about your life in conversations with others.
I’m sure I’m missing a whole slew of categories, like Diplomatic lying which countries do every minute, and Insecure lying, which people tend to do on internet dating sites as if the person will never find out that you don’t actually own a dog or have an athletic build. Any others I'm missing?
By the time we reach adulthood, I think we have all found ourselves in situations where someone in our life just can’t help him or herself, and simply lies all the time about matters great and small. On one level, it is unfortunate for them, because it shows that they don’t possess the confidence in themselves or the faith in you to hear the truth and be okay with it. Even if they are telling you something really terrible, in my case at least, I’d always just prefer to know the truth and work toward a solution from there. On another level, having a friend lie to you constantly can only make you feel disrespected and expendable. After all, if a friend can’t trust you enough to be honest with you and know that you will still love them, if perhaps a bit angry at them, what kind of friendship do you really actually have, right?
In any case, lies are so unfortunate because they strip away the foundation of any friendship, which is trust. A good friend of mine just ended a friendship with someone she has known for many years for that precise reason. It became impossible to know whether anything the friend said was truthful. No one is arguing for complete honesty in human relations, but she realized that the “benign untruths” her friend was telling her were not benign at all. The difference being that benign untruths are designed to spare your friend’s feelings. “A**-Saving Lies” are designed to spare YOURSELF some hassle, agro or natural consequences for your actions. It can become easy to convince yourself that your a**-saving lies are benign untruths in service of a friends’ feelings, simply because it is often easier to pretend that the absence of conflict with a friend is a favor to the friend rather than a favor to yourself.
Whenever I am tempted to tell an a**-saving lie, I remind myself that I will then have to come up with—and remember—ten more lies to cover this one lie, and if I’m discovered, I’ll never be able to convince my loved one that my intentions were good. After all, one lie can be forgiven on the basis of erring is human. Ten lies indicate a commitment to the lies, a need for the lies, and a shocking ability to tell a host of them without blinking…all of which will dismantle your relationship (and your friend’s trust) piece by piece. C.E Montague said it best:
A lie will easily get you out of a scrape, and yet, strangely and beautifully, rapture possesses you when you have taken the scrape and left out the lie.
So where does this leave my friend? I had no real advice for her other than to know that she did the right thing for herself—and perhaps for her friend too. Because sometimes we can only learn the value of honesty by losing the very things that we thought our lies were preserving.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Delusional DeLay Devotion
Primary sign that George W. Bush has gone off his second-term political rails: Supporting Tom DeLay. What? Is Rove on vacation? Off to a spa for a back wax?
Next we’ll hear that Bush is checking out the thongs of zaftig interns…
The White House denied that DeLay's appearance with Bush at a Social Security event here was a way for the president to give the House leader a political boost. But while the president has steadfastly backed DeLay, Tuesday's appearance took Bush's public show of support to a new level.
"I appreciate the leadership of Congressman Tom DeLay in working on important issues that matter to the country," Bush said before he began plugging for Social Security overhaul.
DeLay, an influential conservative on Capitol Hill, is facing questions about money used to pay for some of his foreign trips, about political fundraising for Texas elections and about his ties to a lobbyist, Jack Abramoff, who is under federal criminal investigation.
DeLay, who rode with the president in his limousine, on his Marine One helicopter and then on Air Force One for the return flight to Washington, has said he's willing to defend himself before the House ethics committee, but the panel is essentially shut down because of a deadlock over new rules imposed by Republicans.
Upon landing, and after a goodbye handshake at the bottom of the Air Force One steps, DeLay said the president's very public show of support for him Tuesday "felt very good." "The president was very gracious," he said. "We feel very humbled by that kind of support."
Next we’ll hear that Bush is checking out the thongs of zaftig interns…
The White House denied that DeLay's appearance with Bush at a Social Security event here was a way for the president to give the House leader a political boost. But while the president has steadfastly backed DeLay, Tuesday's appearance took Bush's public show of support to a new level.
"I appreciate the leadership of Congressman Tom DeLay in working on important issues that matter to the country," Bush said before he began plugging for Social Security overhaul.
DeLay, an influential conservative on Capitol Hill, is facing questions about money used to pay for some of his foreign trips, about political fundraising for Texas elections and about his ties to a lobbyist, Jack Abramoff, who is under federal criminal investigation.
DeLay, who rode with the president in his limousine, on his Marine One helicopter and then on Air Force One for the return flight to Washington, has said he's willing to defend himself before the House ethics committee, but the panel is essentially shut down because of a deadlock over new rules imposed by Republicans.
Upon landing, and after a goodbye handshake at the bottom of the Air Force One steps, DeLay said the president's very public show of support for him Tuesday "felt very good." "The president was very gracious," he said. "We feel very humbled by that kind of support."
Saturday, April 23, 2005
Passover Greetings
Tonight is the first night of Passover, which marks the commemoration of the Israelites exodus from slavery in Egypt. It's my favorite holiday for one primary reason: The whole point of the holiday, to me, is to remember that we were once slaves in the land of Egypt and therefore slavery anywhere is empirically our concern. It reminds us to help those who do not share our physical, economic or spiritual freedom and bounty today--right now.
The other, less rabbinically-authorized reason I like Passover is that it is the quickest 5 pounds you will ever lose. Trust me. Passover is The Original Atkins Diet. No leavened foods: No bread. No cereal. No beer. No pasta. No oatmeal. No cookies. Nada. It's 8 days and nights of protein-tastic livin'.
Now, be assured, you can also GAIN 5 pounds during passover if you satisfy your hankering for coconut macaroons, brisket for breakfast or flourless chocolate cakes. But how much of that can you really eat when all you really want is a slice of whole wheat toast with peanut butter at 7am? So what I end up eating is eggs for breakfast, salads with chicken for lunch, and some meat-heavy dish for dinner. And buh-bye 5 pounds.
The real key to surviving Passover (at any weight), however, is to lay off the matzoh. Matzoh symbolizes the fact that the Israelites had to quickly escape from Egypt and did not have time to let their dough rise. Sounds meaningful, which it is. But here's a news flash for those of you not in the Passover scene: you won't be doing *anything* quickly after a few boxes of those harmless-looking crackers. You see, matzoh helps in driving home the point of Passover that we were not always living such lives of freedom and leisure, with its...erm..well...its "binding" properties. If you want to taste the "bread of affliction" then eat a box of matzoh. You will not be "running" anywhere. Trust me. It will be long days and nights of rigorous pondering of all the blessings you usually enjoy when your colon is appropriately fibered.
I tell you this not to be gross, although that would be a good enough reason, but to simply prevent you from suffering the same deleterious effects I did in 1999 when I went crazy eating matzoh with everything, substituting it wherever a bready item was called for. Matzoh in the morning, matzoh with the salad at lunch, brisket on matzoh, matzoh with butter and cinnamon sugar, I could go on and on. But "go" I did not--for days and days. It was ugly and uncomfortable and worrisome because I had just seen the Seinfeld rerun where Kramer "misses his window" and needs an enema. I spent the final 5 days of the holiday praying for peace for all peoples, freedom for those oppressed, religious harmony for all...and for one, simple, Passover Poop.
The other, less rabbinically-authorized reason I like Passover is that it is the quickest 5 pounds you will ever lose. Trust me. Passover is The Original Atkins Diet. No leavened foods: No bread. No cereal. No beer. No pasta. No oatmeal. No cookies. Nada. It's 8 days and nights of protein-tastic livin'.
Now, be assured, you can also GAIN 5 pounds during passover if you satisfy your hankering for coconut macaroons, brisket for breakfast or flourless chocolate cakes. But how much of that can you really eat when all you really want is a slice of whole wheat toast with peanut butter at 7am? So what I end up eating is eggs for breakfast, salads with chicken for lunch, and some meat-heavy dish for dinner. And buh-bye 5 pounds.
The real key to surviving Passover (at any weight), however, is to lay off the matzoh. Matzoh symbolizes the fact that the Israelites had to quickly escape from Egypt and did not have time to let their dough rise. Sounds meaningful, which it is. But here's a news flash for those of you not in the Passover scene: you won't be doing *anything* quickly after a few boxes of those harmless-looking crackers. You see, matzoh helps in driving home the point of Passover that we were not always living such lives of freedom and leisure, with its...erm..well...its "binding" properties. If you want to taste the "bread of affliction" then eat a box of matzoh. You will not be "running" anywhere. Trust me. It will be long days and nights of rigorous pondering of all the blessings you usually enjoy when your colon is appropriately fibered.
I tell you this not to be gross, although that would be a good enough reason, but to simply prevent you from suffering the same deleterious effects I did in 1999 when I went crazy eating matzoh with everything, substituting it wherever a bready item was called for. Matzoh in the morning, matzoh with the salad at lunch, brisket on matzoh, matzoh with butter and cinnamon sugar, I could go on and on. But "go" I did not--for days and days. It was ugly and uncomfortable and worrisome because I had just seen the Seinfeld rerun where Kramer "misses his window" and needs an enema. I spent the final 5 days of the holiday praying for peace for all peoples, freedom for those oppressed, religious harmony for all...and for one, simple, Passover Poop.
Happy Birthday, Bill Shakespeare!
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Friday, April 22, 2005
Size Matters
Having cured cancer, AIDS and diverticulitis, scientists in Hong Kong have been conducting the following study with the following results:
HONG KONG (Reuters) - Chinese men have no reason to feel inferior about the size of their penises, according to a Hong Kong study which showed local men measured up to others elsewhere in the world below the belt.
"Our conclusion is that Hong Kong people are no smaller than Western men, where their penises are concerned," said Chan Lung-wai, director of the Urology Center at the Union Hospital, who headed the study.
"There has always been the myth that westerners have bigger penises and their (sexual) ability is better." A group of scientists in Hong Kong spent five months from October last year measuring 148 ethnic Chinese volunteers aged between 23 and 93. The average length of their flaccid penises was 3.33 inches, which compared favorably with similar studies on other men overseas.
Germans have average lengths of about 3.4 inches, Israelis 3.27 inches, Turks 3.07 inches and Filippinos 2.89 inches. Italians were the longest at 3.54 inches, and Americans averaged 3.46 inches.
The study did not measure the penises when they were erect. It found that a man's height bore no relation to the length of his member, but those with higher body mass indexes, or fat content, appeared to have shorter penises. "It seems that as someone gets older and fatter, his blood vessels change, so the penile size is not static. It may be a reflection of the condition of the person's blood vessels," Chan said, adding that this could spur yet another study.
My favorite part of the article is, “The study did not measure the penises when they were erect.” That would be a whole different study, wouldn’t it? But I would ask the esteemed doctor whether his measurements are the “average” or the “mean.” After all, if you don’t throw out the outliers, you’d just need one or two very luckily endowed men (you know who you are) to boost your country’s overall average into the…threes of inches? Could that be correct? Three? Really? Is that the average? Were the men cold? Just out of the pool? Or perhaps nervous at being measured?
In any event, we can rest easy in this Age of Terrorism and Environmental and Economic Upheaval that one of the planet's most pressing questions has been answered by science. Thank you, Science.
HONG KONG (Reuters) - Chinese men have no reason to feel inferior about the size of their penises, according to a Hong Kong study which showed local men measured up to others elsewhere in the world below the belt.
"Our conclusion is that Hong Kong people are no smaller than Western men, where their penises are concerned," said Chan Lung-wai, director of the Urology Center at the Union Hospital, who headed the study.
"There has always been the myth that westerners have bigger penises and their (sexual) ability is better." A group of scientists in Hong Kong spent five months from October last year measuring 148 ethnic Chinese volunteers aged between 23 and 93. The average length of their flaccid penises was 3.33 inches, which compared favorably with similar studies on other men overseas.
Germans have average lengths of about 3.4 inches, Israelis 3.27 inches, Turks 3.07 inches and Filippinos 2.89 inches. Italians were the longest at 3.54 inches, and Americans averaged 3.46 inches.
The study did not measure the penises when they were erect. It found that a man's height bore no relation to the length of his member, but those with higher body mass indexes, or fat content, appeared to have shorter penises. "It seems that as someone gets older and fatter, his blood vessels change, so the penile size is not static. It may be a reflection of the condition of the person's blood vessels," Chan said, adding that this could spur yet another study.
My favorite part of the article is, “The study did not measure the penises when they were erect.” That would be a whole different study, wouldn’t it? But I would ask the esteemed doctor whether his measurements are the “average” or the “mean.” After all, if you don’t throw out the outliers, you’d just need one or two very luckily endowed men (you know who you are) to boost your country’s overall average into the…threes of inches? Could that be correct? Three? Really? Is that the average? Were the men cold? Just out of the pool? Or perhaps nervous at being measured?
In any event, we can rest easy in this Age of Terrorism and Environmental and Economic Upheaval that one of the planet's most pressing questions has been answered by science. Thank you, Science.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Government Service: Oxymoron of the Week
Social Security
This happened a few days ago, but I can only write about it now because I can only now do so without using multiple expletives.
Went to the Social Security office in DC to get the bambina her SS number. Made a point of checking and re-checking the website to ensure that I brought all of the relevant and required documents. Even went so far as to print off the web page that outlines the relevant and required documents so as to avoid any dyspeptic bureaucrat from capriciously deciding that I didn’t have what was needed.
Nice try, Haggis.
Got there. Got my number (9). Saw that the “Now Being Served” machine said “88” and so settled in. Waited for almost two hours (with baby in tow). Finally got called to the window, only to be told that I did not have all of the relevant and required documents.
You see, friends, apparently when the SS Administration tells you to bring your Adoption Decree, they also mean to bring the English translation of the adoption decree. In addition, the fact that the adoption decree is written entirely in English with the exception of the “filler” language, is immaterial. They MUST have the official translation.
Go with me here. The adoption decree simply proves that the child for whom you are seeking a social security number is indeed yours. My adoption decree from China says, in English, “Adoption Decree” on the front and then says in Chinese something like, “Be it known to all person blah blah that…” followed by (in English): my name, birth date, address, parental status and date of adoption. Followed by the bambina’s name, birth date and a photo of me and her thereon affixed. CLEARLY the Chinese government would not take a photo of a random woman and a random baby to affix to some fake document so the baby could receive non-existent benefits from the US government in 65 years. CLEARLY the adoption decree as written provided all of the necessary information the Social Security Administration requires for the acquisition of a number. But the clerk was having none of it. He absolutely had to have the translation, which I might add, is a document typed up on a typewriter on an 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper and notarized in China. Wow. Now THAT sounds far more official and legitimate than an actual leather-bound/signed and sealed official Chinese government adoption decree covered in a plastic casing, doesn’t it?!!
I implored him, I damn near begged him, I got snarky. Nothing worked. The highlight of this man’s day was saying “No” to some bee-atch who thinks she can just walk in here with a Chinese kid and act like she’s an American.
Which leads to the other annoying, infuriating occurrence. He then started telling me that my daughter is not a citizen anyway, so why not just come back later so that she can get her number as a citizen rather than a resident alien. I started telling him that the law was changed in January 2004 that foreign adoptees were considered American citizens from the moment they left customs at the US airport. When we walked out of Dulles Airport, the bambina was as American as you and me. Do we have the paperwork from Homeland Security yet to prove it? Nope. But the whole point of the law change was so that new adoptees would not have to apply like standard immigrants for citizenship. So here I was, in the social security office, telling this guy the law, which he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He kept saying, “that is just not possible. She has to go and apply to be a citizen like anyone else” and I kept telling him he was mistaken.
As you can imagine, when you find yourself with a Soviet-style bureaucrat who nitpicks your documents and doesn’t know his own profession’s relevant legal statutes, you know you are beaten and will not win. So I took my stuff and walked away, almost three hours after arriving, with a little bambina who had been a complete darling in a 90 degree government office for three hours, with nothing to show for it but raised blood pressure and a burning desire to decimate the moron clerk on my blog.
But then I decided to set an example of restraint for my daughter. I waited a few days till the rage subsided, let the incident roll around in my mind, and then decided to feel pity for the clerk rather than anger. I figure that if I’m ever in a job or a place in my life where the sole highlight of my entire day is giving the Heisman over a technicality to some poor new mom and her baby, then I probably need more help than scorn. Right?
So I do plan to go back as soon as I can “prove” that she’s American, as soon as I can leave her with someone so as not to inflict government building heat malfunctions on her, and as soon as I think of some snappy ways to ruin a soulless government worker’s day, such as “May I tell you about my personal relationship with Jesus Christ?” and “Do you happen to have any air freshener back there? I'm afraid I have terrible gas today."
This happened a few days ago, but I can only write about it now because I can only now do so without using multiple expletives.
Went to the Social Security office in DC to get the bambina her SS number. Made a point of checking and re-checking the website to ensure that I brought all of the relevant and required documents. Even went so far as to print off the web page that outlines the relevant and required documents so as to avoid any dyspeptic bureaucrat from capriciously deciding that I didn’t have what was needed.
Nice try, Haggis.
Got there. Got my number (9). Saw that the “Now Being Served” machine said “88” and so settled in. Waited for almost two hours (with baby in tow). Finally got called to the window, only to be told that I did not have all of the relevant and required documents.
You see, friends, apparently when the SS Administration tells you to bring your Adoption Decree, they also mean to bring the English translation of the adoption decree. In addition, the fact that the adoption decree is written entirely in English with the exception of the “filler” language, is immaterial. They MUST have the official translation.
Go with me here. The adoption decree simply proves that the child for whom you are seeking a social security number is indeed yours. My adoption decree from China says, in English, “Adoption Decree” on the front and then says in Chinese something like, “Be it known to all person blah blah that…” followed by (in English): my name, birth date, address, parental status and date of adoption. Followed by the bambina’s name, birth date and a photo of me and her thereon affixed. CLEARLY the Chinese government would not take a photo of a random woman and a random baby to affix to some fake document so the baby could receive non-existent benefits from the US government in 65 years. CLEARLY the adoption decree as written provided all of the necessary information the Social Security Administration requires for the acquisition of a number. But the clerk was having none of it. He absolutely had to have the translation, which I might add, is a document typed up on a typewriter on an 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper and notarized in China. Wow. Now THAT sounds far more official and legitimate than an actual leather-bound/signed and sealed official Chinese government adoption decree covered in a plastic casing, doesn’t it?!!
I implored him, I damn near begged him, I got snarky. Nothing worked. The highlight of this man’s day was saying “No” to some bee-atch who thinks she can just walk in here with a Chinese kid and act like she’s an American.
Which leads to the other annoying, infuriating occurrence. He then started telling me that my daughter is not a citizen anyway, so why not just come back later so that she can get her number as a citizen rather than a resident alien. I started telling him that the law was changed in January 2004 that foreign adoptees were considered American citizens from the moment they left customs at the US airport. When we walked out of Dulles Airport, the bambina was as American as you and me. Do we have the paperwork from Homeland Security yet to prove it? Nope. But the whole point of the law change was so that new adoptees would not have to apply like standard immigrants for citizenship. So here I was, in the social security office, telling this guy the law, which he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. He kept saying, “that is just not possible. She has to go and apply to be a citizen like anyone else” and I kept telling him he was mistaken.
As you can imagine, when you find yourself with a Soviet-style bureaucrat who nitpicks your documents and doesn’t know his own profession’s relevant legal statutes, you know you are beaten and will not win. So I took my stuff and walked away, almost three hours after arriving, with a little bambina who had been a complete darling in a 90 degree government office for three hours, with nothing to show for it but raised blood pressure and a burning desire to decimate the moron clerk on my blog.
But then I decided to set an example of restraint for my daughter. I waited a few days till the rage subsided, let the incident roll around in my mind, and then decided to feel pity for the clerk rather than anger. I figure that if I’m ever in a job or a place in my life where the sole highlight of my entire day is giving the Heisman over a technicality to some poor new mom and her baby, then I probably need more help than scorn. Right?
So I do plan to go back as soon as I can “prove” that she’s American, as soon as I can leave her with someone so as not to inflict government building heat malfunctions on her, and as soon as I think of some snappy ways to ruin a soulless government worker’s day, such as “May I tell you about my personal relationship with Jesus Christ?” and “Do you happen to have any air freshener back there? I'm afraid I have terrible gas today."
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