10 things you may or may not know about Zacki: Christmas Edition

(Idea ganked from Dirk Mancuso... thanks hehe)

1. I despise the song "Little drummer boy" parumpapapum except for the version by Grace Jones on Pee-Wee's Christmas Special! 

2. I love the idea of tacky christmas trees in theory, but feel sad when they are actually executed: EG:Pink tree, or goth tree..

3. I secretly love the nutcracker and have found myself oddly enacting moments in my socks leaping about hardwood floors... go figure

4. I like to believe I have been given my mother's gift for gorgeous gift wrapping, but must now admit it, mine look just average...

5. I try the fruitcake every year and always make the same grossed out face, when will I learn?

6. I own 14 different christmas cd's and would never admit that in public... oops

7. I try to sit on one sexy santa's lap each year in hopes that eventually the damn boy will bring me my christmas wish

8. I don't eat much of anything on Christmas eve... I find it funny that this tradition started with me protesting my mother's lame attempt at dinner one christmas eve, now it just makes sense

9. I still get excited when two things happen... a. when I wake up Christmas morning and b. when I see a sexy santa, did I mention I like sexy Santas?

10. I once asked santa for a house... I got it. My dad made me the coolest Playhouse ever!

And how did I miss this on youtube?

Oh memories! Props to Kevinduran for the tip!

100 posts strong, and something a little more real.

Ok, so I started this post a few days ago and haven't really had the heart or mood to finish it, so here it is...It was basically going to be 100th post, now it's my 102nd.

Moments that changed my life: The Challenger Disaster

I was a pretty smart young kid, and had never had a problem understanding ideas like "love" or "hurt," but Death hadn't really ever hit home with me. I didn't get the finality of it. Everything was possible, how could the person you just met one day go away forever the next?

My Teacher, knew the woman who was travelling into space. To describe just how cool that is is next to impossible. My Teacher was friends with the teacher who had grabbed America's heart, and inspired us as students. In my mind, it was like she knew God, or the guy who invented sugary treats!

In preperation, we had studied the space program, fuel cells, thrusters, and even got into a bit of the science behind jet fuel propulsion... it was Montessori after-all. The big tv on the black metal cart was pulled out in every classroom... it was THE TV event! I had waited for weeks to see this moment. My heart raced, my hands sweated, and I imagined myself in there, flying into outer space... and that woman who was in there, was going to come meet with us in a few months after she returned!

....then it happened. It was all a flash...a blur.... and for once in my life, I didn't comprehend.... it had to be a joke... that was all a test right, now they'll really leave. Then from behind me I heard a gasp I'll never forget. My teacher covered her mouth and gathered herself... and asked us all to move into the other room. The tv was shut off, we moved away, the other teachers took over, and all that could be heard were children asking, and even pleading for answers. All I heard was quiet sobs from the room next door. Her quiet strength has stayed with me to this day. I can't imagine what It would have been like had she lost it in front of us all. That day I understood death. I went in leter and asked, why... And for once, an adult didn't sugarcoat it... "I don't know. Things just come to an end sometimes. I'm just as lost as you..." "That's scary" I beleive I said. "I'm a little scaed too..."



This was the first time I had the guts to go back and watch this, but it's pretty amazing... and sad

I Hate your kid...

Here is a transcript of an amazing DVD review from my old town paper "The Stranger."

Kiddie Integrity
By LINDY WEST

"Seriously, I hate your kid.

I don't know what these modern children watch (Laguna Beach? To Catch a Predator?), but back in my day, Nickelodeon's golden years, it was all Hey Dude all the time. The half-hour sitcom follows the antics of a bunch of cowboy teens working on the Bar None Dude Ranch. There's prissy Brad, hot Ted, nice Melody, Danny the Indian, and a few others, and they got in and out of trouble for 65 weeks from 1989 to 1991 (available now on shady, probably pirated DVD).

Hey Dude is mostly comedy, with a totally satisfying love triangle, and a healthy dose of drama (sometimes a horse will die, or Danny will have to choose between his job and his spiritual Indian ways). The Bar None is owned by one Mr. Ernst, a bumbling ex-accountant from New Jersey with Wild West delusions. Many of the episodes have to do with Mr. Ernst's heee-larious publicity schemes, like turning Arizona into a giant lawn with Ernst's Miracle Desert Sod. Or selling Bar None bowler hats. Or wrestling Captain Lou Albano.

One of my favorite things about Hey Dude (besides Captain Lou) is all the excellent fuss made over Danny's Hopi heritage. For example, when the ranch's well dries up, Ted suggests, "You can do a Rain Dance! You're an Indian! It's natural for you!" Aaaaaaawkward! Another time, an evil archaeologist discovers an "ancient Indian burial ground," and Danny totally steals the bones of his ancestors and re-buries them. Righteous! And did you know that you can get an Indian to do what you want if you trick him into thinking the Great Spirits are angry? Fact!

I was planning to just make fun of Hey Dude—how the point of the show is mostly to find different reasons for Mr. Ernst to fall in the water trough (not totally untrue: I've been keeping a water-trough tally, and it's in the 20s). But you know what? I sincerely, warmly, un-ironically love Hey Dude. And as I was watching it, I started to realize all the ways it changed me. I learned not to leave my friend blindfolded with a broken compass near an abandoned mineshaft in the desert. I learned that if you tickle a girl, she will tell you her best friend's most embarrassing secret. I learned that Indians are hella wise. I learned a lot about the comedic potential of amnesia.

But in all seriousness, when I really think about it, I learned that lying will ruin everything; girls can pay the check and boys can clear the table; sometimes mean people are just sad; and that you have to honor your responsibilities, even if it means leaving the totally fun ranch where all your friends work and going back to summer school. And maybe I'm still kind of a judgmental, irresponsible liar, but at least I'm not some entitled, half-naked, dead-inside Laguna Beach asshole, like your kids are going to be. Seriously, put Hey Dude on now. Maybe there's still time."

I'm so running out and buying this...the reminiscing sickness of it all will be well worth it!

Space Muslims

Back in Seattle, there were these fascinating women my friends and I named: The Space Muslims. You could often find this duo of homeless women on the corner of Pine and Broadway. They would sometimes set up camp in front of the Broadway Performance Hall at Seattle Central Community College. Among their array of items were drapes of multi-colored fabric, or simple tarps to keep away the rain. Nestled under you would find amazing hand-crafted shrines, I later found out were devoted to Kali: the godess of creation and destruction.

While taking a non-fiction writing class in college, these women captivated my attention enough for me to interview them for a paper. I have since lost the paper I wrote, but it was a simple matter of fact re-telling of their story and belief systems. See, these women were a living metaphor. Approximately 5 years before I met them, the first woman I met (and the only one allowed to speak according to her) had lost a son.

It went something like this: Her son had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and was framed for killing a small girl on their block in the central district of Seattle. He landed in jail and quickly started sucking funds from this woman's bank account to pay for his legal fees. Since she knew she needed spiritual guidance, she went to her local church to commune with Christ. While praying, she felt nothing in return. Shestarted to get angry at God for ignoring her in a time of crisis, and started to wish ill will toward the man that truly did this crime. She flat out wanted the man who put her son in jail, DEAD. At that moment she saw the spiritual being of Kali come to her almost in a ghost-like manner. She had never even heard of Kali before, and needed a quick tutorial from the goddess herself to straighten things out. (Here was where she warned me: BEWARE what you wish of Kali as she giveth and taketh away!) Kali said she would grant but one wish inside this poor woman's heart, but forewarned her that whatever she wished must be a definitive, heartfelt need! She said she "didn't want any part in..... " but it was too late, Kali said her wish was granted. She knew somehow her heart had asked Kali to destroy that man, wherever he may be.

The next morning she awoke to gunfire outside her building. There was a man lying dead in the steet, but the police had told her that it appeared he had been shot from the inside out. Kali had done the first part of their deal, now she wondered how she would pay. That night, she was supposed to win the lottery but Kali had switched the tickets so the person behind her ended up a millionaire. Very Quickly the case went to trial and her son depleted most of her bank account to pay for it. The final blow to her was when her son was sentenced to death, and she realized Kali would be coming for her next. She returned to the church and sent Kali a message: "If you leave me alone, I will burden my soul for you daily. As long as you stay out of my body, I will carry you in spirit as my punishment." She gave away all personal effects, sold her home, and started to create shrines to Kali out of scraps she would find walking the streets. The other woman joined her one day and had not talked since. Together they created a new family, sharing the physical burden of Kali daily. Basically these women were a little crazy, but it is a beautiful metaphor. (To protect ones soul inside, they must strip themselves of everything outside and carry their spiritual foe around on their backs so the evil won't be tempted to dig inside.)

When I met them, they had about 8 shrines total. Each shrine was made of a wheeled cart, or dolly with plexiglass domes that contained images and figures all gold and black. Every time these women moved, it took about 6 trips back and forth to move all that shit. Can you imagine? That is until, they got a van! See how they adorned it below... I miss seeing them each day.