You Don't Say...

This was the headline for a story on one of the news blogs that I read.

Truth was first US casualty in Iraq war: study

Ummm...DUH! I understand that Clinton had a chameleon's approach to the truth but how can one compare a blow job and creative cigar use in the White House to the disaster that is the Bush II presidency?

I have one question: Where is Osama bin Laden? I mean, shoot, Saddam Hussein was found in about two seconds buried in a bloody hole in the ground. It's been over six years since we invaded Afghanistan. Every time there's a White House press briefing, someone ought to ask, "Where is Osama bin Laden?"

"Hey Condi? Any word on Osama?"

"Yo, Mr. Chertoff. How's the hunt for Osama coming along?"

"Mr. President. See Osama Run. Run Osama Run. Find Osama George."

I can tell you where Osama isn't: Iran or North Korea. And I know this even without getting those super duper top secret national security briefings every morning that George Dubya apparently doesn't bother to read (probably because they use big words like, "classified" and "nuclear" GAH!). Here's a hint. Try looking in the desert or mountains of Afghanistan. Osama shouldn't be too hard to find. He'll be the really tall guy hooked up to an effing dialysis machine.

Jesus.

Here's the rest of the article from the Agence France-Presse (AFP)

US President George W. Bush and his top officials ran roughshod over the truth in the run-up to the Iraq war lying a total of 935 times, a study released Wednesday found.

Bush and his then secretary of state Colin Powell made the most false statements as they sought to drum up support for the March 2003 invasion to topple Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein, the study alleged.

In a damning report, the Center for Public Integrity found "935 false statements by eight top administration officials that mentioned Iraq's possession of weapons of mass destruction, or links to Al-Qaeda, on at least 532 separate occasions."

"Bush and seven of his administration's top officials methodically propagated erroneous information over the two years beginning on September 11, 2001," the center said.

"These false statements dramatically increased in August 2002, just prior to congressional consideration of a war resolution and during the critical weeks in early 2003 when the president delivered his State of the Union address and Powell delivered his memorable presentation to the UN Security Council," the CPI added.

The study calls into question "the repeated assertions of Bush administration officials that they were merely the unwitting victims of bad intelligence," it added in a statement.

The US president was found to have made the most false statements referring a total of 260 times to Iraq's supposed weapons of mass destruction and Al-Qaeda alleged links to the Baghdad regime.

But then-secretary of state Powell only just lagged behind with 254 false communications, said the study by the center's founder Charles Lewis and researchers.

Charges that late Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein had stockpiled an arsenal of weapons of mass destruction were the main argument used publicly in parliaments around the world and in the United Nations to justify the US-led invasion.

But after the invasion they turned out to be untrue, when no weapons of mass destruction were found by the invading forces.

Former national security advisor Condoleezza Rice, then defense secretary Donald Rumsfeld, and ex-deputy defense secretary Paul Wolfowitz were also fingered in the study, along with former White House press secretaries Ari Fleisher and Scott McClellan.

"This is a report like no other, which calls into question more than 900 false statements that were the underpinnings of the administration's case for war," argued the CPI's Executive Director Bill Buzenberg.

Cheney, for example, on August 26, 2002, in an address to the Veterans of Foreign Wars national convention, asserted: "Simply stated, there is no doubt that Saddam Hussein now has weapons of mass destruction.

"There is no doubt he is amassing them to use against our friends, against our allies, and against us."

Former CIA chief George Tenet later noted Cheney's assertions exceeded his agency's assessments at the time, the report said.

In late September 2002, Bush with a congressional vote approaching on authorizing the use of military force in Iraq, insisted in a radio address that the Baghdad regime posed a global threat.

"The Iraqi regime possesses biological and chemical weapons, is rebuilding the facilities to make more and, according to the British government, could launch a biological or chemical attack in as little as 45 minutes after the order is given," Bush said.

"This regime is seeking a nuclear bomb, and with fissile material could build one within a year."

Other administration officials muddied the waters on the alleged relationship between Iraq and the Al-Qaeda terror network, the CPI said.

Asked in July 2002 if Iraq had relationships with Al-Qaeda terrorists, Rumsfeld said: "Sure."

Still, an assessment the same month by the Defense Intelligence Agency, confirmed by later by CIA chief Tenet, found an absence of any "compelling evidence demonstrating direct cooperation between the government of Iraq and Al-Qaeda."

Where's My Apron?

I am a domestic goddess.

Come, my children. Worship at my stove top.

I spent this weekend cooking like Julia Childs (except with better teeth and no pearls). I had the Body For Life cookbook opened and managed to saute, broil and bake our entire week's worth of meals. Oh, stop! You needn't bow down.

This flurry of domestic activity threw my children off, as well. They walked around the house this weekend with wide open eyes and they were careful to speak in quiet, measured tones. I rustled up breakfast, lunch and dinner on both days and the only comment was from Dylan.

"I like your new diet book, Mum."

Uh-huh.

To support this change in lifestyle, Dallas and I had to spend buckets of money. The first gouge to the bank account was at the fitness shop where we stocked up on protein shakes. I was quite prepared to hate them because they've always tasted somewhat like vitamins smell but the Myoplex Lite stuff is good and there are heaps of yummy recipes.

Then, we went grocery shopping. It's a pity neither one of us has shares in Wal-Mart. Between Sam's Club and our local Supercenter, we spent an amount equivalent to my vehicle note. This included a new, fancy, schmancy blender for the aforementioned protein shakes because our old one gave off that smell that happens when steel grinds against steel. We were concerned it might combust.

Finally, all of the cooking and shopping revealed a desperate need for a second refrigerator. I had been tossing the idea of a new stainless steel number for about two years but I just couldn't seem to part with the funds. I used to walk into those lovely DIY home displays and see appliances that made my heart flutter but when it came down to it, I'd look at the cost and calculate how many pairs of shoes I wouldn't be able to buy if I splurged on a fridge. Seriously. A girl has to have her priorities.

Unfortunately, eating six meals a day made it impossible to ignore the fact that I have had a longer relationship with my fridge than my son. So tomorrow, the Sears delivery guy will bring our new stainless steel beauty with nearly 26 cubic feet of space, an ice maker in the door and cold filtered water whenever we need it. Old faithful will be moved to the garage and promptly filled with beer nutritious, lovingly made meals in matching tupperware.

I could have purchased several of these (and aren't they magnificent!):


But we bought this, instead:


Somewhere out there, Jimmy Choo is screaming.

Domesticity Redefined

Well, it's official. I'm going to hell.

It's not like I wasn't headed in that direction before what with my divorce, birth control and frequent use of, "JESUS H. CHRIST! Why did you put that up your nose?"

But now, I've sealed my fate. Dallas has moved in. We're shacking up, sharing space, cohabiting, co-mingling, playing house, LIVING IN SIN...According to my brief religious upbringing, I can expect to frolic with the other sinners for all eternity. At the very least, I can assume that I'll be spending gobs of time in purgatory.

No matter, though, because everyone that I know and love is likely to be there with me.

We're in that lovely early stage when things like upright toilet seats and make-up on the hand towels don't cause a ripple. This morning, I got out of the shower to find the dishwasher emptied, a load of laundry in, my morning protein shake made and my second cup of coffee waiting for me on the bathroom vanity. I had to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming because my past experiences living with a man were vastly different.

Husband number one was a diva and wouldn't contribute to the household chores because he was asthmatic and someone ought to have given him a purple, rhinestone encrusted star for being able to use meditation to successfully control his symptoms. Vacuum? Are you kidding? He may have had to use an inhaler and that would most certainly have caused the earth to come off its axis.

Husband number two was unfortunately, more caveman old fashioned in his view of housework. He felt that as long as he held a job, paid his taxes and loved his mother, he should be exempt from any other tasks. It didn't matter that both of us had full time demanding careers. I had the uterus and therefore, all things domestic were considered my responsibility.

So along comes this sweet, highly evolved man who believes in the equitable division of labour in all things domestic. He grocery shops, he puts the trash out, he cooks and he cleans. He is never poised with a scratch pad keeping score. He understands the concept of teamwork and I just had no idea what to do with him in the beginning. I used to shoo him out of the kitchen, worried that he might find loading the dishwasher overwhelming. Silly of me. I had to cede control. Gulp.

It's been a totally liberating experience and I find myself back to that place where I can't help but be grateful. And you know that a man this evolved and secure just doesn't happen. He had to have been well loved as a child. Now more than ever, I can't wait to meet Dallas's mum and dad even if it's just to thank them.

Welcome Back Carbs. I've Missed You.

How did it get to be Thursday already? This week has flown by in a flurry of clients, children and loathsome work out sessions. Actually, the work outs are not so bad. It's just hard to get excited about schlepping to the gym at 4:45 am. However, the alternative: late afternoon sessions, are out of the question.

Dallas has recently introduced me to the "Body For Life" plan. Apparently, he has used the system for a while with good results. This weekend, we bought the book and committed to working the plan at least until we head off to New Zealand, which is 37 days away (not that I'm counting). The absolute best part about this plan is that I get to have carbohydrates again. Pasta, bread, fruit....I can't believe it. Tonight we are having shrimp scampi over penne pasta. I may lick the plate.

Last night, we went to the gym to do an upper body work out. I loved it. After we got back home, Dallas made us a couple of protein shakes and told me to raise my arms above my head and wave them.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because tomorrow, you won't be able." Hmmm.

Then, probably because we worked out so late, he had trouble falling asleep. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be much of an issue but we had plans to go to the gym in the morning at 5am. We won't be doing any more evening sessions on weeknights.

So this morning, off we went. I don't hate the elliptical machine anymore. I secretly love it. My shins don't hurt, my knees don't scream and I get twenty two minutes of high energy music. It's a great way to start the day.

As we go through the next several weeks, I'll be posting our progress but this will never include an actual weight number because my scale lies. I've contemplated doing before and after photos but the thought of publishing my ample arse in a bikini makes me hyperventilate. Minor details...I'll figure something out.

A Very Brady Weekend

We had another busy weekend.

Friday, we met Brandon and Erin down in the big city for dinner and again, at several points, I had tears of laughter rolling down my face.

First, my eldest daughter text me asking for some advice in regard to how long she should wait before resuming sexual activity. She was quite matter of fact about the state of her va-jay-jay and included information regarding a lone, rogue, stitch. I marveled at how my daughter and I had landed in this place where we could discuss her bedroom activity but however special that was, thinking about her as a sexual being was as uncomfortable for me as picturing my parents getting their groove on. (Shudder) Anyway, I decided to share this very special realization with Brandon and Erin by handing over my phone so they could read the text messages themselves and see what a fabulous, liberal mum I was.

Brandon didn't get beyond the stitch. He froze, somewhat catatonic, paled to a pasty gray and was unable to speak for several minutes. You just know that the words in the text were forever seared in his brain and he just kept swallowing, staring sightlessly, unable to form words. He shook his head slightly from side to side as if to dislodge whatever image was planted there. Dallas and I were doubled over with laughter. Erin cautioned us that we should probably stop because from her experienced viewpoint, Brandon was thisclose to fainting. We found this hysterical. Brandon is most definitely NOT one of those people on the freeway that slow to get a look at a crash site and this is why we love him.

The second occurrence happened when Dallas decided to share his opinion on the difference between making love and shagging. Brandon had a huge issue with the term, "making love". He snorted, cut Dallas short and sarcastically created a scenario with Barry White, candles, massage oil and other stereotypical aphrodisiac accoutrements. It doesn't look nearly as funny in print but I had wine shooting out my nose and tears running down my face. My abs hurt.

I wish we could bottle up five minutes with Brandon and Erin and give it to all of the miserable people in the world.

_____________________________________________________

Saturday, Dallas and I CASUALLY began looking at houses. Now internet, before you send me emails full of "oh-my-god-are-you-nuts" advice, remember a couple of things:

1. We've been dating each other for six months and although we had a few bumps at the beginning, we're in this for the long haul.

2. I wear bi-focals. Dallas should. Feel free to translate this as, WE ARE NOT GETTING ANY YOUNGER.

3. Commitment to a successful relationship is a choice that we make every day. Could Dallas find someone with better boobs and smaller feet? Absolutely. Could I date someone who remembers to take their shoes off at the front door? Well, sure but I've learned that when so many of my bigger needs (kindness, respect, laughter)are being met, the small stuff becomes pretty insignificant. I believe the ocean is teeming with fish and that when we are fortunate enough to find one that we don't want to throw back, we ought to say thank you.

4. I love him. He loves me.

5. Dallas has drawers, closet space and SLIPPERS at my house.

6. "Our" has replaced "yours" and "mine" without either of us giving it much thought.

7. We just can't seem to get this damn song out of our heads...