rivka

I admire people who have the guts to do this in this economy:

Some three dozen workers at a telemarketing call center in Indiana walked off the job rather than read an incendiary McCain campaign script attacking Barack Obama, according to two workers at the center and one of their parents.

Nina Williams, a stay-at-home mom in Lake County, Indiana, tells us that her daughter recently called her from her job at the center, upset that she had been asked to read a script attacking Obama for being "dangerously weak on crime," "coddling criminals," and for voting against "protecting children from danger."

Williams' daughter told her that up to 40 of her co-workers had refused to read the script, and had left the call center after supervisors told them that they would have to either read the call or leave, Williams says. The call center is called Americall, and it's located in Hobart, IN.

"They walked out," Williams says of her daughter and her co-workers, adding that they weren't fired but willingly sacrificed pay rather than read the lines. "They were told [by supervisors], `If you all leave, you're not gonna get paid for the rest of the day."

The daughter, who wanted her name withheld fearing retribution from her employer, confirmed the story to us. "It was like at least 40 people," the daughter said. "People thought the script was nasty and they didn't wanna read it."

A second worker at the call center confirmed the episode, saying that "at least 30" workers had walked out after refusing to read the script.

"We were asked to read something saying [Obama and Democrats] were against protecting children from danger," this worker said. "I wouldn't do it. A lot of people left. They thought it was disgusting."

Alex was playing with her stuffed dog, when, out of nowhere, she pronounced: "Unitarian-Universalism." So we had this conversation:

Me: Is Doggie a Unitarian-Universalist like us?
Alex: No, he's a Mormon.
Me: Oh! Does he go to Miss Emily's church, then?
Alex: No, he goes to a different church. It has "University" as a second name. He goes to the Mormon University Church.
Me: And that's different from "Universalist"?
Alex: Yes. It's "University."

Over the next several minutes, she shared some other facts about Doggie's religion: Doggie goes to church on Saturday. He has Sunday School at church, just like we do. Doggie doesn't go to church with us. He goes to a different church.

Understandably, we were pretty curious about what differences Alex perceives between Mormonism and Unitarian-Universalism.

Alex: His church has all the things that our church does.
Me: Does his church have a chalice?
Alex: Yes.
Michael: Do they say the same special words at Doggie's church? Does he sing "Come, Come, Whoever You Are?"
Alex: Yes.
Michael: How is his church different from our church?
Alex: Because it's a Mormon church.
Me: Is there anything that makes his church different from ours?
Alex: They have a smaller big church [i.e., sanctuary] than we do.

What I love most about these conversations is that they are so serious. When she's making up something wild (today's example: a snake who lives on Saturn, and built himself a house with a long tunnel that only snakes can fit through), her facial expression and tone of voice convey that it's all about having fun. When she spins a tale about her life or her associates, it's always in a very calm, matter-of-fact tone of voice.

Earlier this week, for example, Michael told Alex she would have a babysitter tonight. "She can't come on Saturday," Alex informed him coolly. "On Saturday Zoe and I are going to get a tattoo." She went on to describe which tattoo shop they planned to patronize, what designs they had chosen, and where they would have the tattoos placed. "Does Miss Emily [Zoe's mother] know about this?" "Oh yes. She's coming with us." All of this was in the same tone of voice that she would use to describe an interaction on the playground, or a trip to the grocery store.

Now that we've replaced our camera, I'm going to try to capture some of this on video. I ought to be able to get her talking about her imaginary job, which is what Alex has in place of normalother children's imaginary friends.

This is just sick and sad.

Police sources tell KDKA that a campaign worker has now confessed to making up a story that a mugger attacked her and cut the letter "B" in her face after seeing her McCain bumper sticker.

Ashley Todd, 20, of Texas, initially told police that she was robbed at an ATM in Bloomfield and that the suspect became enraged and started beating her after seeing her GOP sticker on her car.

Police investigating the alleged attack, however, began to notice some inconsistencies in her story and administered a polygraph test.

Authorities, however, declined to release the results of that test.

Investigators did say that they received photos from the ATM machine and "the photographs were verified as not being the victim making the transaction."

This afternoon, a Pittsburgh police commander told KDKA Investigator Marty Griffin that Todd confessed to making up the story.

The commander added that Todd will face charges; but police have not commented on what those charges will be.

That was really the only thing lacking in making this the most disgusting campaign of the modern era, wasn't it?

I hope that all the right-wing blogs which spread the story far and wide are posting prominent corrections even as we speak. Particularly including the president of the FOX network, who posted that the original story might lead Obama supporters to change their vote for reasons having nothing to do with racism. But I hope I'm not going to see any triumphalism about this from Democrats. This is not a story we should be pleased to relate.

This young woman is seriously disturbed. I hope she gets the help she needs. I hope this story will lead more people to a sober examination of the ugly undercurrents in our society that made her original claims seem believable to many. And I hope that will be the end of it.

[All Knowledge Is Contained In LJ]

So Alex wants to be a robot for Halloween this year. The basic frame for her costume is a plastic storage bin about the size of her torso, with holes cut in it for her arms, head, and body. We're planning to spraypaint it "brushed aluminum metallic," painting a shirt and leggings to match for the rest of the robot body.

To decorate the robot torso, I'm mostly just going to print pictures of dials and readouts on photo paper and glue them on.

But we'd also love to have some sparkly lights on her costume. So here's my question, LJ: is there such a thing as small stick-on LEDs, ideally self-powered (although if we need to drill a hole for a battery pack, we can), which could be used to decorate a costume? If so, where would you find such things?

Searching is mostly coming up with strings of Christmas lights, or else those little round lights that you stick up in closets and press to turn on.

RE was a family affair today. I taught, Alex was in the class as usual, and Michael was my classroom assistant. His first time teaching Sunday School, and he picked an incredibly chaotic day to do it. All went more-or-less well, though. ( Read more... )

I've got two quiches in the oven (plum tomato, chevre, and fresh thyme) and three in the fridge (two mushroom-garlic-swiss and one asparagus-parmesan). There are two loaves of zucchini bread wrapped in foil and sitting on top of the toaster oven. The frozen punch ingredients which are supposed to thaw are in the fridge; the room-temperature punch ingredients which are supposed to chill are waiting for the last two quiches to go into the fridge so they can fill up the spaces around them.

In the morning, Michael will go to the bakery and retrieve the cake. I forgot to call and double-check the cake order, but that doesn't matter because there will be no problems. I will make a tossed green salad and a fruit salad. If I can get those done by 9am (which is reasonable; the salad greens are prewashed and won't need to be torn up), I will have two whole hours for setup and final staging before the party.

Just before the guests arrive I will start reheating one of each kind of quiche and make the punch, and Michael will make coffee. We'll also have fresh apple cider, not the alcoholic kind but the unfiltered-apple-juice kind.

Four more people have RSVPed, bringing the total number of confirmed attendees to 25 if you count me and Michael.

I have a pretty little perfect-bound notebook for people to fill with encouragement and advice for the mothers-to-be.

I have one solitary game, because Googling for "baby shower games that don't suck" leads you to a bunch of websites written by dirty liars. The game is a "famous mothers" quiz, composed by me. Sample item: "This unwed teenager's unplanned pregnancy kicked off a new world religion." My plan is to read them out and reward correct answers with candy. I hope I have gotten the mix of easy and hard items right.

I have wrapped our present to the mothers-to-be.

I have one pre-party and two during-party jobs for Alex so that she will feel included and not wreak havoc. Before the party, she will go down to the basement and pick out some infant toys to entertain the two infant guests. As guests arrive, her job will be to put presents on the gift table, or, if the presents are too big for her to carry, she will show the guests where to put them. (That last refinement was her own idea.) During the game, she will hand out candy to the victors.

I'm so excited about our friends' pregnancy. They're both wonderful with children, and I know they've always wanted to have kids. Our sons will only be six weeks or so apart in age; they'll grow up together at church.

This shower is a lot of work. But I am incredibly thrilled to be able to do it for them.

After lunch Alex seemed pretty tired, as you would expect given that right now her body is a battleground between bacteria and antibiotics. I suggested that she might like to lie down on the couch in the darkened living room and listen to music. She chose Free To Be You and Me, settled right in, and rested or played quietly through the length of the CD. When the music changed, I went in to check on her.

Me: Are you ready to get up?
Alex: I'm still napping.
Me: Okay. (rubs her back soothingly)
Alex: When is wake-up time?
Me: Wake-up time is whenever you're ready to wake up.
Alex: I want you to make a decision.
Me: Okay then, wake-up time is right now.
Alex: No, I'm still tired.

It turned out that she wanted me to designate a time in the future that would be wake-up time. My backup suggestion that wake-up time could be in five minutes was met with perfectly happy approval.

I was on the way to the midwife this afternoon when Michael called. He said that Alex woke up from a nap at nursery school (already a red flag; she never naps) complaining of severe ear pain. The school didn't think she absolutely positively had to be picked up - it was our call. Of course, I was on the way to the midwife in our only car.

We agreed that I would go on to the office and survey the scene. If it seemed like they'd get me through soon, I would go to my appointment and then pick up Alex. Otherwise, Michael would go to nursery school and either stay with her until I came, or walk/carry her home.

Fortunately, no one else was in the office. (They used to have long waits. Maybe that's just for the senior midwife?) I breezed through my appointment: I've gained five pounds, my blood pressure is a beautiful 118/72, I'm measuring a centimeter or two ahead, the Niblet's heartbeat sounds great, I'm not having sugar or protein problems. My symptoms (hypoglycemic episodes, shortness of breath) are normal for this stage of pregnancy. She wrote me orders for the delightful 28-week testing extravaganza: I'll get bloodwork, a glucose tolerance test, and a shot of tasty tasty RhoGAM.

I hastened out of there and made my way to nursery school. It was still naptime, so I felt awful about coming into the classroom, but what can you do? I could tell in an instant that Alex was genuinely sick: washed-out complection, puffy eyes with dark circles under them, whimpery mood. She was excited to report that Miss Megan had let her have a juice box right in the middle of naptime, and that Miss Jen had let her sit at the table and color instead of staying on her cot. They're good to her there.

We went straight to the pediatrician's office; Michael had set up an appointment while I was at the midwife. Much to my surprise, it was with Alex's own doctor. (You don't expect that on an hour's notice.) He checked in her ears, pronounced them "the reddest ears I've seen all week," checked her throat and lungs for thoroughness' sake, and wrote out a prescription for amoxicillin. (Alex: "Yay! Bubblegum medicine!") He also agreed to be the Niblet's pediatrician and suggested that Alex get a flu shot this year to help protect the Niblet. (He'll have antibodies from my flu shot, but given the vaccine's incomplete protection it helps to not bring the virus into the house at all.)

Then we came home. She's sacked out on the couch with a video, all dosed up with Tylenol, and seems to be feeling better.

Michael also went to the doctor this morning, which makes a complete sweep for all three/four of us. His tendonitis is apparently not nearly as bad as it could be, and he has a treatment plan with lots of PT. So that's good news.

I've had a creeping sense of unease about Obama's rise in the polls. He's currently leading by 6 or 7 points nationwide, but he's got a stronger lead in multiple key battleground states like Colorado, Iowa, and Virginia - so much so that my favorite polling analyst Nate Silver puts his odds of winning close to 94%. (And Nate Silver is the guy who predicted last spring that the Devil Rays would go to the postseason, so whatever your concerns might be about his partisanship, you have to concede that he understands statistical projections.) Even the conservative polling-analysis site Real Clear Politics concedes that they expect Obama to win even if he loses every single state that is currently considered a tossup.

Where does my creeping dread come from? ( This got long, but please do read the whole thing. )

Post 10 things that are going right in your life right now. I don't care how small. You're happy with your cup of coffee. You saw a flock of geese flying over. ANYTHING. Things that make you happy. Things that make you smile. No pressure.

It's small and it's simplistic, but maybe for the time you are compiling your list, you'll forget about the bad going on and focus on something good.

1. Obama is ahead in the polls and climbing, especially in the swing states.

2. We're having beautiful fall weather: crisp mornings, warm afternoons, blue blue sky.

3. Alex amazes me. It is hard for me to imagine how a kid could be cooler than Alex.

4. Niblet is kicking me.

5. My new secret Internet boyfriend, Nate, has all the incredibly detailed election information I could ever want to know.

6. I keep finding these tiny, gorgeous, bright scarlet leaves on the sidewalk. Usually city leaves are not particularly impressive.

7. Michael and I are going to see Great Big Sea for my birthday.

8. Soren DeSelby sang a scale and produced a couple of words of meaningful speech.

9. My pregnancy is feeling really good right now.

10. I wrote something creative, and someone else thought it was good. Do you have any idea how weird that is?