I am absolutely shaken.

I heard this story about dolphin slaughter in Japan yesterday on NPR, and I am sick about it.

Click here for the story, here for a review of the documentary film, and go here for the trailer for said documentary called The Cove that is coming out about this.

Please go here to help.

Schmeitgeist.

Oh, Lordy.

I know that I start a lot of posts that way these days, but I seriously go about my day thinking that phrase, shaking my head, and taking deep breaths.

I finally watched Zeitgeist with Jason today.

Let me just say that he's been talking/raving/freaking out about this movie for a couple of months now. I refused to watch it for this long for a couple of reasons:

A) I have always hated the government, resented it, understood how duped we all are. I don't know everything and there was certainly a lot of stuff in this film that I didn't know, but at the basis of all my thoughts and curiosities has been that the government=bad. I was raised by MY MOTHER, for shit's sakes; if you know me, you know what that means.

B) I've been having a rough time with depression, anger, and hopelessness over the last few months. Now is not the time for a movie that shows me every way in which I am stupid, every way in which I am doomed, every way in which all the bad things that happen to and in this country are the fault of THIS COUNTRY, or at least the the fault of the powerful few at the top of this country.

I didn't really have much to say after it was over. I was just kind of, "Yep. That's what I thought- that I would want to crawl under the bed after I watched it."

If anyone else wants to feel the need to crawl under the bed, you really should watch it. Also I'm absolutely aware that one musn't believe everything one hears/reads/sees on the internet. Let's just say that a lot of this hit awfully close to ideas that I've had before. It's all just a little overwhelming.

In other news I just want to say that someone I love very much found out that he has Crohn's disease. I just wanted to say that I'm thinking about you and I know everything will be okay.

"Never had a care, just a livin' for the minute."

Yesterday I watched a Lifetime movie called Julie Johnson, starring Courtney Love and Lili Taylor. Lili Taylor is stupid and then she yearns and then she's gay and then she's smart and then she's lonely and then she's smart some more. AND ALSO THERE'S COURTNEY LOVE. Being gay with Lili Taylor. At one point I yelled, "They're making out!" and Jason trotted in from the other room just to take a gander.

Today I caught myself driving down the road singing "Way Down Yonder on the Chattahoochee". Singing along and knowing all the words made me, A) wish I was down on the river on a Friday night (self, I know thee not) and, B) remember fondly my teenage years. Not that I was down on the river on Friday nights then, but I knew that song then.

People, I cannot stress this enough: I NEED A JOB. To top it all off, I think this video is hilarious. Bitches.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die

Finally, let's end this one with a heart-warming smile.

Love, Buffy.

Coming home from a trip is always depressing for me; I'm not really sure, maybe it's the end of something I've looked forward to, or having to leave the people I've been dying to see, or going back to work, or going back to a stinky catbox and moldy leftovers in the fridge. Whatever it is, it's the way it's always been.

Today I'm particularly overwhelmed; I'm not afraid to reveal that I am having the first period I've had since the beginning of November. It has been a while, and the intense rush of hormones is really hitting me hard tonight. The melancholy and fear and loneliness and just the absolute ache, it's like a large blunt object hitting me in the back of my head from inside my stomach.

It's a bad night for the Oscars, and YES, the Oscars should always be planned around my menstrual cycles, because every speech and every look and all the subject matter is just keeping me in tears and I'm running out of tissues.

I've always been a movie-watcher, a person who enjoys films- comedies, tragedies, documentaries, musicals, cartoons, whatever there is. There was a time when I knew a lot about film, the making of, the content of, the best actors and best performances. I am no longer so much in the know. Since I had Reed I have been, shall we say, emotional, and it makes me avoid things that bring too much to the surface. Really, the sadness or fear or regret that a good movie brings out in me will last days, sometimes weeks, and I've found myself in a place where I just don't even pay attention to what's coming out and what's on dvd and what's nominated and who's a hopeful, if only as a defense mechanism. I'm too afraid, really, of what I might feel and how long it might take to go away to get involved. It's sad, because when I was invited to join an Oscar pool I realized that I hadn't seen a single film that had been nominated in any category this year. While it's true that the pool was about guesses, whether educated or not, and I was welcome to join in and give my best guess regardless, it's still sad to think how much good shit I'm missing. I mean, I'm thoroughly aware that I chose not to see the movies, that this isn't something that is being done to me or something that is just happening to me, but it's still all sad.

In other words, I'd be sad if I was watching them, and now I'm sad that I'm not watching them.

Right now someone needs to be handing Jason a medal for staying married to me.

Anyway, I decided that I would write the Oscar speech that I will give if ever I win one. I mean, with all those speeches about not giving up and never recognizing the impossible, I am realizing that I could one day win an Oscar in any one of the many categories. So I decided to think about what I'd like to say.

Thank you to the Academy for recognizing my intense dedication to my craft. This Oscar for Best Jokes Ever/Most Stylish, Affordable, and Unique Jewelry Ever/Best Most Serious Actress/Best Friend/Most Attention to the Picking Up of Socks/Best On-Set Cheerleader/Best Keep-Your-Drinks-Full Lady really means so much, because it reinforces my deep love of actors, movies, entertainment, and the art of getting away from it all (thank you, Jack Nicholson).

Thank you to my husband for being able to deal with it all, for taking care of my children when I can't, and for being so supportive, attentive, unwavering, trustworthy, and so different from every other man I've ever spent any time with.

Thank you to all the other people in the film- Johnny Depp, Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Çasey Affleck, I love you all. I'm sorry that I can't say yes to all of your lovely, heartfelt marriage proposals, but Jason Agan is a sexy motherfucker, too hot for words really, but just in case he ever wises up and leaves me I'll keep your numbers so I can call you and cry and read you haikus that I wrote for Jason that he won't respond to when I send them to him on Myspace.

Thank you to Russell Means, Sherman Alexie, John Kennedy Toole, and Kurt Vonnegut for writing that makes me at once so sorrowful and joyous that it has inspired me to keep living, if only to see if maybe life is as interesting, as heart-breaking, as unforgiving and callous, as rewarding as you all make it out to be.

Thank you, finally, to God and my mother for bringing me into this world that is so terrifying, horrifying, beautiful, and odd, but bringing me into a particular place where I am not in the middle of a war, not physically or mentally abused, not afraid for my life (in an immediate sense), not homeless, not alone, not forsaken. Thank you both for giving me this life in which I am surrounded by these crazy, ridiculous people who love me and take care of me, without whom I would be so lost, so lonely, so abjectly pointless, that I would have to just bash myself on the head with this Oscar and get it over with. Thank you for bringing me into a world where there is a Reed to talk to me about playing guitar with his pick, where there is an Aunt CJ and an Uncle Rog to laugh with me and remind me why life should be celebrated and to teach me how to make a latte, where there is a Kristi to come home to even if I have to wait a few days because she's in law school WHAT AN EXCUSE, where there are beaches and big water and sand and family and parties and dancing. AND DANCING.

Thank you, Nick Agan, for not ripping my arms out of their sockets. This has allowed me to keep writing, keep typing, and keep picking my nose at red lights.

And thank you, True Baker, for just letting me know that there exists a seven-foot-tall, John Kennedy, Jr. look-alike who is sweet and loves his mother and asks me to dance. You may not be quite as sexy as my tattooed, red-headed husband, but that's an awful lot to live up to, especially with all that equine-vetting you have to do, and I will definitely recommend you to all of my friends.