Soooooooo...
I'm having a bit of a hard time here lately. Houston... there has been some heavy, hard core drama. Please abort mission. I repeat... ABORT MISSION... and head on back to home base. No need to discuss the issues with the public. Let's just maintain a low profile, take our licks and move on with life. Roger that, Houston. Over and Out.
I'm in need of a funny story. And luckily for you AND for me... I have one.
And... I GUESS... I'll tell it. Geez. Twist my arm.
When I was about 16 years old, my mom took me to the doctor for something. (I don't remember what. I'm 31 years old now... what do you want from me?) She checked me in and got my paperwork. Came over to where I was sitting and began to fill it out. And I was like, "WHA...? Mom. MOM. I'm 16. I think I can fill my OWN paperwork out. Thank you very much-ah. I've mastered the arts of READING and WRITING at this point. I attend, you know, SCHOOL. Also... I believe I know ME. Because I am... ME."
She was amused. Teenagers are amusing, I have come to realize. Being that they know everything and all... but still make some of the most EPICALLY stupid mistakes ever. Which is so odd considering all of that knowledge. And wisdom. And advice they have for us older folk. Which ultimately guides them on their path to the spiritual awakening of "Holy Shit. I DON'T actually KNOW how to proceed. Mom? Dad? What would you do? And... can I borrow $100? Also... can you watch the baby on Friday?"
Anyway... she handed me the clipboard with the paperwork. I felt so official as I began to check boxes. And write my FULL NAME and my SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER... (which I had to ask my mom for). When was my last period? WHY... YES. YES, I DO. GET THAT. THANK YOU. ADULT WOMAN HERE. Filling out her OWN paperwork. Tampon user now, EVEN. (Oh. Well. Ok. Apparently they don't need to know that.)
Have I had any surgical procedures? YES. Yes I have.
"Tonsil"... ahhh...
"Tonsel"... hmmm....
"Tonsal".... welllll...
"Mom... how do you spell tonsillectomy?"
Also... they need to know my insurance information. Ummmm... "Mom... what do I write here?"
Now we're to the boxes of what illnesses I have and have not suffered from. Check yes or no.
Cancer?... pfffft. Easy... NO. Duh.
Hemorrhoids? (like for REALZ? *snicker* NO! Wait... wait. Maybe I should put YES. LMAO! Wait... she's looking. Forget it.)
Heart Disease, including arteriosclerosis, angina, heart failure or history of heart attack ? What am I... fat??!? 60??? Also... "angina"? Really?.... REALLY? BWHAHAHAHA!! (what is that?)
High Blood Pressure? How the hell would I know? Aren't they going to put that squeezy thing on me and LET ME KNOW? You're suppose to know these things before you go in?
Blurred Vison? Yes. But if you think I am going to check YES so she can make me wear some dorky ass glasses you're insane.
Rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, or connective tissue disease? Uhhhhhh.... (what the hell is all THAT? I guess... NO. Is guessing allowed?)
Sickle Cell Anemia? Ummm... what if I have had all this crap? I've been sick a time or two in my younger days. But with WHAT? I don't remember. Can you catch this "anemia" business? And why does it make your "cells sick"? Is that any different from like, sick... sick? Why do they even need to know all this anyway? Forget it. I am just gonna put "NO" on everything else because I am not asking her, so she can be like, "Ohhhhhhhh... I thought you knew enough to fill out your OWN paperwork."
So I get done with everything and I could tell she wanted to spot check it. But I was like, "Nope. DENIED. I got this."... and went over and turned it into the receptionist.
After awhile, the nurse came to the door and called my name. Mi Madre must have sensed that this day was some sort of milestone, so when they called my name, she kept reading her magazine and didn't look up. I was on my own, apparently. Heck YES! Finally. A little respect around here. A little recognition for my (inevitable) accomplishment of growing up. Thank you very MUCH-AH.
The nurse did her nurse stuff. Height, weight, temp, blood pressure. Then she left me alone in the room informing me that "The Doctor has one patient ahead of you and then will be in shortly."
While I waited I read Better Homes & Gardens. It's what all the "adults" read while they wait for their doctors.
15 minutes later, the doctor knocked on the door and then entered. But it was all wrong, because it was a MALE doctor. WHOA. WHOA... now. Do they not know that on days when you have grown up enough to fill out your own paperwork and then do your whole "appointment" by yourself, you need to be assigned a same gender physician? How do they not know this? Didn't the receptionist notice me in all my adult glory, transforming before her very eyes as I took care of all of my OWN information? Uncomfortable this will be. Perhaps I should get my mom...
BUT NO. NO I WILL NOT. Perseverance. That's adult and shit.
He started asking me questions about whatever I was there for, as well as my medical history. Then he paused for a minute and said, "You've had Pertussis?"
????? "Uhhhhhh... I don't think so. What is that?"
"Well it says right here on your paperwork you have had Whooping Cough. How old were you when you had Whooping Cough?"
"Oh! No. he he. I've never had "Whooping Cough", I guess. But I have had a "Whopping (big) Cough" before that made my throat hurt. You know... like a whopper of a cough. I thought that was the same thing."
"Ohhhh... I see. You filled out your own paperwork today. Why don't we get your mother in here just to be on the safe side, then?"
DAMMIT.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Fearless Friday: Tolerance, Seperation of Church & State, Organized Religion: One of these things is NOT like the other...
Did you know that there is a woman named Sharron Angle who is running for a U.S. Senate seat in the state of Nevada? Perhaps. (I know you're reading your FaceBook page, not really listening to me.) Did you also know that she fancies herself a "tea party conservative"? Hmmm... really? (And thinking, "Stop talking. So I can read. See how that goes together?") And did you also know that she went on a nationally syndicated radio program (hosted by a conservative) and told the host that she did not support abortion even in the instance of rape and incest? No matter how old the girl is. (WHAT??!?) She said that in the case of a young girl being raped and becoming pregnant the girl should, "make lemonade out of lemons." (Thank you for your attention :) She also said that "It's God's will that the girl be raped." and "It’s easy to use rare situations such as the tragedies of rape and incest to skew the debate about the value of human life." Wow. Rare situations. Interesting.
How do you feel about those "Muslims"? Do they make you mad? Flashes of the 9/11 travesty play through your head, right? You see them every once in awhile walking around with their heads covered. The women don't meet your gaze. Sometimes you see a Mosque and it makes your skin crawl to think about all that kneeling and facing East. Let me ask you something, though. Do you know what a "Muslim" is? Do you know what they actually believe in? (No.. really... do you KNOW? Because you researched it yourself?) Good. In that case you know that "Muslim" is not a race of people; it's the name for the followers of the Islamic religion. Which makes you smarter than probably 60% of the rest of America. Do you also know how Al Qaeda relates to Islam?
A long, long time ago there was this guy who was sick and tired of watching people "buy" their redemption and so-called ticket to Heaven from the Catholic church. So on 10/31/1597 he nailed his theses proclaiming that "Salvation was a gift from God and that everyone was entitled to it", to the door of the All Saints' Church in Wittenberg, Germany. Back in that day they called him a radical, and then tried AND convicted him of heresy for his split from the Catholic way of thinking. You know what we call his followers? Lutherans. And MAN... are those some radical people. By the way can you tell a Lutheran from all the rest of the Christians we have? Or are you like me and you just kind of lump all of those kind of Christian religions together? Lutheran, Episcopalian, Methodist, Baptist, Pentecostal, Non-Denominational.... whatever. Of course Catholics stick out. So do Mormons. But otherwise... they're all just "Christians".
Oh... did that offend you? Perhaps you have some sort of argument or difference you'd like to impart upon me? Good. No really. Good.
Because here is the thing: I am so very, very, VERY excited for you that you can spend any day of the week you choose, devoted to any religion of your choosing. In any amount of time you wish. In any form of prayer you desire. Believing in anything it is you want. Praying for whoever you think needs it. Giving any amount of money you see fit. Providing selfless acts of service to those who request your help, in the name of whatever Deity you wish to give the credit to. And sharing your beliefs with anyone who wants to sit and listen to you share your testimony. I say this with not an ounce of sarcasm, and with complete and utter sincerity. GOD BLESS AMERICA.
Because I am also eXtremely excited to impart that same right among the Muslims of this country. Who would say "ALLAH BLESS AMERICA." It SICKENS me to watch political and personal rhetoric that preaches against allowing non-Christian Judea faiths of this country build places of worship. It OFFENDS me to hear people who fancy themselves AMERICANS speak out against allowing "weird" or "different" people practice what they believe in, as long as it follows the laws of not infringing on the rights of others. I know that Al Qaeda came here, played us for fools and dealt us a low, horrible blow. Al Qaeda is NOT a recognized Islamic branch among the Muslims. They are essentially what David Koresh and the Branch Davidian was to the rest of the organized Christian world. EXTREMISTS. Please tell me that it isn't right for me to look at you as a Christian and hate you because David Koresh brain washed and abused hundreds of people. Please.
Going back, though, to my original news story about Ms. Angle, who feels it right to interject her Christian views into my legislator: Could you imagine if instead of Ms. Angle, you were hearing Mr. Muhammad Jinnah tell you what he thought was morally right and how that should influence the laws that govern the two of us? Ohhhhhhhh... did you just bristle a bit? :) Muslim influence over our law making? I saw your facial expressions change. Beth Howard... she pays attention to the body language. (wink, wink). It's NOT COOL, right? Good. I am glad we agree.
STOP.SUPPORTING.CANDIDATES.WHO.INSERT.THEIR.
PERSONAL.RELIGIOUS.VIEWS.INTO.THE.GOVERNMENT.
OF.AMERICA.
We are constitutionally obligated to remain judicially separated from our churches when it comes to our state and national legislature. And THANK GOD. Thank GOD for that. Or... thank the dead, Founding Fathers if you so choose. If you're a Christian... I am sure you can recognize that it would have been nice for old Martin Luther to be able to preach what he wanted to preach; write what he wanted to write; share what he wanted to share with no interference from the government at the time, right? And I am hoping you realize that the "government" was the Catholic Church. If you feel that way, you should also feel that it is important for all other faiths to be free to worship in their own manner of choosing, so long as they don't infringe upon anyone else's rights.
Above all else, though, you should be happy to have laws that don't include either religious view in our governing.
How do you feel about those "Muslims"? Do they make you mad? Flashes of the 9/11 travesty play through your head, right? You see them every once in awhile walking around with their heads covered. The women don't meet your gaze. Sometimes you see a Mosque and it makes your skin crawl to think about all that kneeling and facing East. Let me ask you something, though. Do you know what a "Muslim" is? Do you know what they actually believe in? (No.. really... do you KNOW? Because you researched it yourself?) Good. In that case you know that "Muslim" is not a race of people; it's the name for the followers of the Islamic religion. Which makes you smarter than probably 60% of the rest of America. Do you also know how Al Qaeda relates to Islam?
A long, long time ago there was this guy who was sick and tired of watching people "buy" their redemption and so-called ticket to Heaven from the Catholic church. So on 10/31/1597 he nailed his theses proclaiming that "Salvation was a gift from God and that everyone was entitled to it", to the door of the All Saints' Church in Wittenberg, Germany. Back in that day they called him a radical, and then tried AND convicted him of heresy for his split from the Catholic way of thinking. You know what we call his followers? Lutherans. And MAN... are those some radical people. By the way can you tell a Lutheran from all the rest of the Christians we have? Or are you like me and you just kind of lump all of those kind of Christian religions together? Lutheran, Episcopalian, Methodist, Baptist, Pentecostal, Non-Denominational.... whatever. Of course Catholics stick out. So do Mormons. But otherwise... they're all just "Christians".
Oh... did that offend you? Perhaps you have some sort of argument or difference you'd like to impart upon me? Good. No really. Good.
Because here is the thing: I am so very, very, VERY excited for you that you can spend any day of the week you choose, devoted to any religion of your choosing. In any amount of time you wish. In any form of prayer you desire. Believing in anything it is you want. Praying for whoever you think needs it. Giving any amount of money you see fit. Providing selfless acts of service to those who request your help, in the name of whatever Deity you wish to give the credit to. And sharing your beliefs with anyone who wants to sit and listen to you share your testimony. I say this with not an ounce of sarcasm, and with complete and utter sincerity. GOD BLESS AMERICA.
Because I am also eXtremely excited to impart that same right among the Muslims of this country. Who would say "ALLAH BLESS AMERICA." It SICKENS me to watch political and personal rhetoric that preaches against allowing non-Christian Judea faiths of this country build places of worship. It OFFENDS me to hear people who fancy themselves AMERICANS speak out against allowing "weird" or "different" people practice what they believe in, as long as it follows the laws of not infringing on the rights of others. I know that Al Qaeda came here, played us for fools and dealt us a low, horrible blow. Al Qaeda is NOT a recognized Islamic branch among the Muslims. They are essentially what David Koresh and the Branch Davidian was to the rest of the organized Christian world. EXTREMISTS. Please tell me that it isn't right for me to look at you as a Christian and hate you because David Koresh brain washed and abused hundreds of people. Please.
Going back, though, to my original news story about Ms. Angle, who feels it right to interject her Christian views into my legislator: Could you imagine if instead of Ms. Angle, you were hearing Mr. Muhammad Jinnah tell you what he thought was morally right and how that should influence the laws that govern the two of us? Ohhhhhhhh... did you just bristle a bit? :) Muslim influence over our law making? I saw your facial expressions change. Beth Howard... she pays attention to the body language. (wink, wink). It's NOT COOL, right? Good. I am glad we agree.
STOP.SUPPORTING.CANDIDATES.WHO.INSERT.THEIR.
PERSONAL.RELIGIOUS.VIEWS.INTO.THE.GOVERNMENT.
OF.AMERICA.
We are constitutionally obligated to remain judicially separated from our churches when it comes to our state and national legislature. And THANK GOD. Thank GOD for that. Or... thank the dead, Founding Fathers if you so choose. If you're a Christian... I am sure you can recognize that it would have been nice for old Martin Luther to be able to preach what he wanted to preach; write what he wanted to write; share what he wanted to share with no interference from the government at the time, right? And I am hoping you realize that the "government" was the Catholic Church. If you feel that way, you should also feel that it is important for all other faiths to be free to worship in their own manner of choosing, so long as they don't infringe upon anyone else's rights.
Above all else, though, you should be happy to have laws that don't include either religious view in our governing.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The Iraqi Effect
This is for The Man who this morning, very matter-o-factly, told me many stories of the extremely high rate of un-happily married and divorced men in Iraq. My ultimate plan is to spend the rest of my life with him taunting me, smacking my ass and trying to boss me around, so a little 10,000 mile distance doesn't bother me. Besides, I've played out the scene 1,000 times where I am holding his hand in the hospital bed WHILE HE IS DYING OF EMPHYSEMA OR LUNG CANCER BECAUSE HE WON'T QUIT SMOKING... and all the romance and mellow drama I long for finally comes spewing forth from his lips, Jason Mraz style. I have to wait around until at least then, right? Otherwise, all my time invested has been wasted and that would just piss me off. Enough so that I would stay out of spite. So really... message to my husband: You couldn't get rid of me if you tried.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
31 Years of Wisdom
So besides the proper lubricant for leg shaving, these are some other things I have learned over my small time on planet Earth.
*People Do, In Fact, Change. This is not true for everyone, obviously... but it is true. I, myself, do not own special x-ray goggles to be able to look into the hearts and minds of people to see whether or not they are "faith" or "hope" worthy... so I just try to keep an open mind and support everyone who seeks change for the better. If you own the special x-ray glasses, I encourage you to patent them and distribute them. I'll keep the faith and have hope you change your selfish ways.
*Cold Beer Goes The Best With Hot Pizza AND/OR A Hot Guy. If you need for me to elaborate on this, I can only encourage you to go out and get yourself a 6-pack and try both side dishes for yourself. Get back to me on your favorite.
*Pop Music DOES Have A Purpose. I realize that you may not like it... but it can be a good thing. Women dance together when drunk to pop music. This is a fact. Also... it will unite you with the people who are your age by evoking memories of teenage tomfoolery. The lyrics are easy to memorize. If you're of Caucasian descent, you may have a chance at keeping a beat. It is not the deepest or most meaningful of music, but like a movie or TV show you can zone out to... it is a necessity sometimes.
*There Is Nothing Better Than A Summer BBQ With People You Like. Notice I did not say "your family". This is because, in case you don't agree with me because you've only ever had BBQ's with your family... and you don't like them much... you would get my subtly hidden message to throw a secret BBQ with only people you like. You'll find it profoundly changes things.
*Hold Onto People You Love. I cannot stress this enough. If you loved someone at any point in time, they are worth figuring out a way to hold onto. (The exception to this, I suppose, is people whom you have loved but have abused you. This I leave up to you... but I encourage closure and a way for the good to prevail if it can.) You never, ever know when you will be at their funeral, devastated that you will NEVER be able to tell them how much they meant to you. Of course we can't always like everyone; nor are we obligated to spend time with people who irritate us when time is actually "spent" together. If you love someone, though, don't let them fall away into the abyss. Keep tabs on them, if only at a distance... and make sure that they know how you feel about them on at least a bi-annual bases. And for goodness sakes!!! If you have a old best friend/old boyfriend/old "other" someone special who you did actually enjoy but grew apart from and lost contact... LOOK THEM UP!!! Tell them how much they meant to you. DO THIS. I command you.
*Your Parent's Political Views Are As Subjective As The Rest Of The Population's. I think I almost fell over the day this dawned on me. But it doesn't actually compare to the day I really did fall over when I realized I was watching the news. By choice. And paying attention. Because it was INTERESTING.
*Children Are Freaking GROSS. That's right. I said it. They come into this world in a painful plethora of "gross-ness". They then proceed to continue this grossness to varying degrees as they age. They can be cute. They can be sweet. They can invoke emotions like pride and unconditional love. BUT... my friends... this is all their coy way of making up for the fact that they will puke on you. They will spit on you. They will urinate and defecate and infect you with germs and viruses. They will make the biggest and most disgusting messes you have EVER SEEN IN YOUR WHOLE LIFE. And then smile at you like, "What? Just clean it up." No one tells you this. I am telling you this. You're welcome.
*Who You Think You Are Now Will Change. Evolve. AND... Get Better. And I am excited about that for you and for me. Take it from a little meek, mousy blond wall flower who didn't even find her voice until about age 24. Also... do yourself a favor: You know that mistake you made yesterday/last week/last month that has been haunting you? Forgive yourself. Don't do it again. Learn to spot others who are in your same plight and help them by listening, and then speaking when asked. Sit quietly sometimes and don't be a mother or a wife or a sister or a daughter or a friend (or... you know... the male counterparts to that). Be yourself. Who is that? How will you know unless you spend some time learning about you (?) Also... try not to make absolutes. When I think back to who I was when I was 21... compared to who I am now... It is MIND BOGGLING the amount of growth and change. As well as the change in the needs, wants and desires. Don't ever sell yourself short by making up your mind for or against something you haven't experienced yourself.
*Educate yourself. As MUCH as humanly possible. Please do this. And please don't ever rely on just one person's opinion. I beg you. Probably the single greatest thing we can all do for humanity is do our own research. On EVERYTHING.
Ok. The End. :)
*People Do, In Fact, Change. This is not true for everyone, obviously... but it is true. I, myself, do not own special x-ray goggles to be able to look into the hearts and minds of people to see whether or not they are "faith" or "hope" worthy... so I just try to keep an open mind and support everyone who seeks change for the better. If you own the special x-ray glasses, I encourage you to patent them and distribute them. I'll keep the faith and have hope you change your selfish ways.
*Cold Beer Goes The Best With Hot Pizza AND/OR A Hot Guy. If you need for me to elaborate on this, I can only encourage you to go out and get yourself a 6-pack and try both side dishes for yourself. Get back to me on your favorite.
*Pop Music DOES Have A Purpose. I realize that you may not like it... but it can be a good thing. Women dance together when drunk to pop music. This is a fact. Also... it will unite you with the people who are your age by evoking memories of teenage tomfoolery. The lyrics are easy to memorize. If you're of Caucasian descent, you may have a chance at keeping a beat. It is not the deepest or most meaningful of music, but like a movie or TV show you can zone out to... it is a necessity sometimes.
*There Is Nothing Better Than A Summer BBQ With People You Like. Notice I did not say "your family". This is because, in case you don't agree with me because you've only ever had BBQ's with your family... and you don't like them much... you would get my subtly hidden message to throw a secret BBQ with only people you like. You'll find it profoundly changes things.
*Hold Onto People You Love. I cannot stress this enough. If you loved someone at any point in time, they are worth figuring out a way to hold onto. (The exception to this, I suppose, is people whom you have loved but have abused you. This I leave up to you... but I encourage closure and a way for the good to prevail if it can.) You never, ever know when you will be at their funeral, devastated that you will NEVER be able to tell them how much they meant to you. Of course we can't always like everyone; nor are we obligated to spend time with people who irritate us when time is actually "spent" together. If you love someone, though, don't let them fall away into the abyss. Keep tabs on them, if only at a distance... and make sure that they know how you feel about them on at least a bi-annual bases. And for goodness sakes!!! If you have a old best friend/old boyfriend/old "other" someone special who you did actually enjoy but grew apart from and lost contact... LOOK THEM UP!!! Tell them how much they meant to you. DO THIS. I command you.
*Your Parent's Political Views Are As Subjective As The Rest Of The Population's. I think I almost fell over the day this dawned on me. But it doesn't actually compare to the day I really did fall over when I realized I was watching the news. By choice. And paying attention. Because it was INTERESTING.
*Children Are Freaking GROSS. That's right. I said it. They come into this world in a painful plethora of "gross-ness". They then proceed to continue this grossness to varying degrees as they age. They can be cute. They can be sweet. They can invoke emotions like pride and unconditional love. BUT... my friends... this is all their coy way of making up for the fact that they will puke on you. They will spit on you. They will urinate and defecate and infect you with germs and viruses. They will make the biggest and most disgusting messes you have EVER SEEN IN YOUR WHOLE LIFE. And then smile at you like, "What? Just clean it up." No one tells you this. I am telling you this. You're welcome.
*Who You Think You Are Now Will Change. Evolve. AND... Get Better. And I am excited about that for you and for me. Take it from a little meek, mousy blond wall flower who didn't even find her voice until about age 24. Also... do yourself a favor: You know that mistake you made yesterday/last week/last month that has been haunting you? Forgive yourself. Don't do it again. Learn to spot others who are in your same plight and help them by listening, and then speaking when asked. Sit quietly sometimes and don't be a mother or a wife or a sister or a daughter or a friend (or... you know... the male counterparts to that). Be yourself. Who is that? How will you know unless you spend some time learning about you (?) Also... try not to make absolutes. When I think back to who I was when I was 21... compared to who I am now... It is MIND BOGGLING the amount of growth and change. As well as the change in the needs, wants and desires. Don't ever sell yourself short by making up your mind for or against something you haven't experienced yourself.
*Educate yourself. As MUCH as humanly possible. Please do this. And please don't ever rely on just one person's opinion. I beg you. Probably the single greatest thing we can all do for humanity is do our own research. On EVERYTHING.
Ok. The End. :)
Sunday, July 4, 2010
A Hard 4th
Bill and I have never spent a 4th of July apart since we met in 2004. Today was hard.
It got me thinking about what matters in my life. And what I would do if my life was to become different. If some how my life no longer included him.
I don't mean to bring you down. Truly. Meh. Maybe you should skip this post. I'll let you know when I bring back the funny. :)
I miss him. I miss life when he was here every day. I miss his smell and his touch and his habits, good and bad. I'm angry with myself for making some less than desirable decisions while he's been away out of weakness. If my life changed and I was forever without him, I would never marry or be in a committed relationship again. I can say that with about 99.9999% certainty. I don't think I could ever look at anyone again and say, "Yep. Bring on the Heaven and The Hell! Let's do this." Why??? For what??? The amount of effort Bill and I have put into our relationship and into understanding each other is too great and to think about all of that all over again... Oy. No. Never again.
I'm so tired of this. I just want him home for good. I want him safe and sound, unharmed, un-scared. I want him back home messing up the kitchen, hogging up the bed and hoarding the remote. I want to kiss him whenever I feel like it. I want to see him speak instead of envisioning him in his tent room as I cling to the only thing I have on a constant basis: The sound of his voice. I don't think any of this has been worth it. At all.
It got me thinking about what matters in my life. And what I would do if my life was to become different. If some how my life no longer included him.
I don't mean to bring you down. Truly. Meh. Maybe you should skip this post. I'll let you know when I bring back the funny. :)
I miss him. I miss life when he was here every day. I miss his smell and his touch and his habits, good and bad. I'm angry with myself for making some less than desirable decisions while he's been away out of weakness. If my life changed and I was forever without him, I would never marry or be in a committed relationship again. I can say that with about 99.9999% certainty. I don't think I could ever look at anyone again and say, "Yep. Bring on the Heaven and The Hell! Let's do this." Why??? For what??? The amount of effort Bill and I have put into our relationship and into understanding each other is too great and to think about all of that all over again... Oy. No. Never again.
I'm so tired of this. I just want him home for good. I want him safe and sound, unharmed, un-scared. I want him back home messing up the kitchen, hogging up the bed and hoarding the remote. I want to kiss him whenever I feel like it. I want to see him speak instead of envisioning him in his tent room as I cling to the only thing I have on a constant basis: The sound of his voice. I don't think any of this has been worth it. At all.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Happy Birthday America!
The 4th of July is... and always has been... one of my most favorite holidays. How does it get any better than sunshine, BBQing, drinking beer, hanging out with friends and then free night time entertainment? Also... it IS the prelude to my birthday, bitches!!! :) God planned it that way because he loves me. And you. So He gave you and I a day between the 4th and the birthday of Beth to rest up and recharge. A day for ibuprofen and electrolytes. He would have put that in The Bible, but He thought it might give too much away and rob Dr. Adams and the Boots Pure Drug Company of their glory. Don't forget to say "thank you" tonight when you pray. Also... America's fireworks tradition was, in fact, started in the year 1979, right? To signify the coming of Beth. That is what my mom told me so don't go getting all "hater" just because you don't have fireworks every year on YOUR pre-birthday holiday.
Speaking of people, as well as things, that are fabulous: Freedom... isn't it awesome? All kidding aside, I am so grateful to live in a country where I am allowed to feign arrogance and poke fun at religion. And politics. And children. I love being an American, and regardless of our flaws and faults... and occasional bad decisions to elect religious right conservatives to office... I love us. We keep changing and trying to become better, and even though there are those who try to ignorantly impede the process... you can find a lot of them on Fox News if you're curious... it is inevitable. As a birthday present to me, I implore you to constantly strive to remain educated. Seek out that which you don't understand and find truth. We, of the right to an education citizenry, are a great people.
Group hug.
Speaking of people, as well as things, that are fabulous: Freedom... isn't it awesome? All kidding aside, I am so grateful to live in a country where I am allowed to feign arrogance and poke fun at religion. And politics. And children. I love being an American, and regardless of our flaws and faults... and occasional bad decisions to elect religious right conservatives to office... I love us. We keep changing and trying to become better, and even though there are those who try to ignorantly impede the process... you can find a lot of them on Fox News if you're curious... it is inevitable. As a birthday present to me, I implore you to constantly strive to remain educated. Seek out that which you don't understand and find truth. We, of the right to an education citizenry, are a great people.
Group hug.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Fearless Friday: Feminism
I bet you think you know where I stand on this one, don't you? :)
No. No... you don't. <---- That, perhaps, will entice you to read this post. Just think of it as a little Kim Kardashian salad ad, if not. Come on... you know you want to try that damn salad. :)
This morning my husband and I went over our budget, and he was the Alpha and I was the Beta. This is a bit new for us. I have always been the Alpha. I am not too proud to say that in the past 4 months he's been gone... I have not excelled at "budgeting". There were a lot of those "Right Turn Only" signs that I just decided were warnings and not laws. Metaphorically. I confessed my affairs with Target and Kohl's to him, head hung down in shame, and then after a few stern glaces and some not so happy words, he got over it. Mostly because he loves me and is a wonderful man. But also, probably because I added "Why don't you take over the budget? Give me an allowance. I think that will work out a lot better."
The minute these words left my lips, I cringed inside. I felt like I wanted to jump outside of myself and bitch slap me. "WHAT are you thinking? Give you AN ALLOWANCE? What is this... the 50's? What if you NEED to do something and he doesn't give you permission? Or worse... what if there is a sale... like the SALE of a century... and he says, "NO."???" Oy. OY. OY!!!! I could feel it slipping... the Control. I do NOT deal with that well. I had to just maintain so as to keep from hyperventilating. (Did YOU just SAY THAT? Out LOUD? Stupid, stupid girl.) I probably poured myself a drink... or 5. And then moved on from the door I just closed on my foot.
Still, this morning has left me all warm and fuzzy despite the broken metatarsals and phalanges. Let's tread into this a bit, shall we? Maybe we'll come out on the other side with the same feelings.
I want to tell you a story, but I am going to purposely leave out some details. You will have to just get over that part, OK? Thank you. I appreciate it. When I was about 11 years old I witnessed something that would shape my life like few other events ever have. I witnessed a husband go into his kitchen and attempt to get into a drawer where his wife stored her utensils for cooking. She was an amazing cook, as well as an amazing mother, so she made her children empty the dishawasher and put these "tools" away. This way, her children would learn responsibility. However, these children were like any other children when it came to their chores. They often stuffed things into the wrong place for the sake of time, and tried to short cut organization so that they could go out and be young and play.
On this particular day, apparently, the husband (whom you most certainly may classify as "selfish" and a bit "misogynistic"... go forth. With my blessings.) had, had enough of these unruly children. He also had, had enough of his wife allowing them to be lazy, normal children. He pulled, and pulled and pulled on the drawer until the face plate came apart and the utensils spilled all over the floor. Then in a rage, he gathered up the hundreds and hundreds of dollars, and years and years worth of collecting that the wife had invested in her "tools"... and he went out to the garage, grabbed a trash can... and threw them in. The wife, who had been in the back of the house, heard the commotion and she came rushing to see what was a matter. When she saw what he was doing, she began to sob, "Please. PLEASE. PLEASE STOP. Don't throw away my things... my tools. Please don't do this." And then she got onto her knees.
And as I watched this from a corner of the room... I can tell you that a fire began to burn inside of me. Had I not been a scrawny, scared, 11 year old girl, I would have taken a trash can... gone into the garage... and began to throw his "tools"... his wrenches, his screwdrivers, his nut drivers, his power tools... EVERYTHING... into a trash can. And had I been a full grown adult man on top of it, I would have hit him in the face and knocked that motherfucker OUT. I don't think I have words to describe to you what it felt like to watch that. I will say, for the sake of the story, that her sobbing eventually softened him... and he shoved the trash can at her and walked away. Leaving her to dig her things out, and rewash them, and put them away.
My feelings about equality run DEEP. I once got into a fight with my ex husband because he threw my outdated TV guide away before I was done with the crossword puzzle in the back. He didn't ASK me if I needed it. I shit you not. Not proud of it... but it is what it is.
So let's take a breath. I took you to a dark place. Let's take another breath. Back to Bill.
This morning he called and wanted to know what the bills for this up coming month were. I informed him of all that needed to be paid. He then proceeded to take a stern tone while he calculated in his head what needed to be done, and then rationed out the remaining. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. And do you remember in Avatar when Neytiri stood over a wounded Jake Sully and hissed like a mountain lion? That was me this morning over my control. IMMEDIATELY... I was on the defensive. "Breeeeeeeath." I remembered that I brought this on myself through my irresponsibility... and I calmed down. I just listened.
His plan made sense. He is the logical one after all... and I am the emotional one who will spend in a fit of depression to feel better. There ends up being nothing in this whole equation that is anti-feminist. ??? WHA-WHAT? But I am NOT the BOSS. (?) I have NO argument to shift the control back(?) And even worse... I am letting HIM boss ME around (?) How can this be? Are you for REALZ on this, Beth Howard?
Yes. Yes, I am. For you see, I have decided that when you find the right man... you need not worry so much anymore about exerting your feminist defense. Good for you for having that hard core, platinum shield of "I am WOMAN! Treat me RIGHT!" up at all times. You need it. Until you find HIM. When you find him, you'll also find that he doesn't mind so much the shield... as he does the fact that you're not listening to him tell you that he WANTS you to make decisions. That he LIKES the ones you make. As long as they go along with the plan you BOTH have created.
And isn't/wouldn't it be the most intensely gratifying thing to know that he is standing up to YOU so that YOU choose to follow the path your feminism laid out in the first place? I can assure you... it is.
No. No... you don't. <---- That, perhaps, will entice you to read this post. Just think of it as a little Kim Kardashian salad ad, if not. Come on... you know you want to try that damn salad. :)
This morning my husband and I went over our budget, and he was the Alpha and I was the Beta. This is a bit new for us. I have always been the Alpha. I am not too proud to say that in the past 4 months he's been gone... I have not excelled at "budgeting". There were a lot of those "Right Turn Only" signs that I just decided were warnings and not laws. Metaphorically. I confessed my affairs with Target and Kohl's to him, head hung down in shame, and then after a few stern glaces and some not so happy words, he got over it. Mostly because he loves me and is a wonderful man. But also, probably because I added "Why don't you take over the budget? Give me an allowance. I think that will work out a lot better."
The minute these words left my lips, I cringed inside. I felt like I wanted to jump outside of myself and bitch slap me. "WHAT are you thinking? Give you AN ALLOWANCE? What is this... the 50's? What if you NEED to do something and he doesn't give you permission? Or worse... what if there is a sale... like the SALE of a century... and he says, "NO."???" Oy. OY. OY!!!! I could feel it slipping... the Control. I do NOT deal with that well. I had to just maintain so as to keep from hyperventilating. (Did YOU just SAY THAT? Out LOUD? Stupid, stupid girl.) I probably poured myself a drink... or 5. And then moved on from the door I just closed on my foot.
Still, this morning has left me all warm and fuzzy despite the broken metatarsals and phalanges. Let's tread into this a bit, shall we? Maybe we'll come out on the other side with the same feelings.
I want to tell you a story, but I am going to purposely leave out some details. You will have to just get over that part, OK? Thank you. I appreciate it. When I was about 11 years old I witnessed something that would shape my life like few other events ever have. I witnessed a husband go into his kitchen and attempt to get into a drawer where his wife stored her utensils for cooking. She was an amazing cook, as well as an amazing mother, so she made her children empty the dishawasher and put these "tools" away. This way, her children would learn responsibility. However, these children were like any other children when it came to their chores. They often stuffed things into the wrong place for the sake of time, and tried to short cut organization so that they could go out and be young and play.
On this particular day, apparently, the husband (whom you most certainly may classify as "selfish" and a bit "misogynistic"... go forth. With my blessings.) had, had enough of these unruly children. He also had, had enough of his wife allowing them to be lazy, normal children. He pulled, and pulled and pulled on the drawer until the face plate came apart and the utensils spilled all over the floor. Then in a rage, he gathered up the hundreds and hundreds of dollars, and years and years worth of collecting that the wife had invested in her "tools"... and he went out to the garage, grabbed a trash can... and threw them in. The wife, who had been in the back of the house, heard the commotion and she came rushing to see what was a matter. When she saw what he was doing, she began to sob, "Please. PLEASE. PLEASE STOP. Don't throw away my things... my tools. Please don't do this." And then she got onto her knees.
And as I watched this from a corner of the room... I can tell you that a fire began to burn inside of me. Had I not been a scrawny, scared, 11 year old girl, I would have taken a trash can... gone into the garage... and began to throw his "tools"... his wrenches, his screwdrivers, his nut drivers, his power tools... EVERYTHING... into a trash can. And had I been a full grown adult man on top of it, I would have hit him in the face and knocked that motherfucker OUT. I don't think I have words to describe to you what it felt like to watch that. I will say, for the sake of the story, that her sobbing eventually softened him... and he shoved the trash can at her and walked away. Leaving her to dig her things out, and rewash them, and put them away.
My feelings about equality run DEEP. I once got into a fight with my ex husband because he threw my outdated TV guide away before I was done with the crossword puzzle in the back. He didn't ASK me if I needed it. I shit you not. Not proud of it... but it is what it is.
So let's take a breath. I took you to a dark place. Let's take another breath. Back to Bill.
This morning he called and wanted to know what the bills for this up coming month were. I informed him of all that needed to be paid. He then proceeded to take a stern tone while he calculated in his head what needed to be done, and then rationed out the remaining. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. And do you remember in Avatar when Neytiri stood over a wounded Jake Sully and hissed like a mountain lion? That was me this morning over my control. IMMEDIATELY... I was on the defensive. "Breeeeeeeath." I remembered that I brought this on myself through my irresponsibility... and I calmed down. I just listened.
His plan made sense. He is the logical one after all... and I am the emotional one who will spend in a fit of depression to feel better. There ends up being nothing in this whole equation that is anti-feminist. ??? WHA-WHAT? But I am NOT the BOSS. (?) I have NO argument to shift the control back(?) And even worse... I am letting HIM boss ME around (?) How can this be? Are you for REALZ on this, Beth Howard?
Yes. Yes, I am. For you see, I have decided that when you find the right man... you need not worry so much anymore about exerting your feminist defense. Good for you for having that hard core, platinum shield of "I am WOMAN! Treat me RIGHT!" up at all times. You need it. Until you find HIM. When you find him, you'll also find that he doesn't mind so much the shield... as he does the fact that you're not listening to him tell you that he WANTS you to make decisions. That he LIKES the ones you make. As long as they go along with the plan you BOTH have created.
And isn't/wouldn't it be the most intensely gratifying thing to know that he is standing up to YOU so that YOU choose to follow the path your feminism laid out in the first place? I can assure you... it is.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
This was kind of a FAIL. Oh Well. :)
I can't get this any bigger and it's driving me nuts. If you go down to the bottom of your screen where it says 100%, you can zoom into 150% and see it better. Sorry. Anyway... here it is... my first original cartoon about my life as a psuedo single mom.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Frustration
SO.VERY.FRUSTRATED.
The one thing that frustrates me more than anything else on the face of the planet is being told that I agreed to something in a conversation that I didn't. Why does this frustrate me so much? I am sure one would assume with a memory like mine this could happen. It's probable. It's feasible. It's probably even HAS happened a time or two. I guess because when I actually do remember the conversation that you're referring to... it's not that I agreed to something and then did the opposite. It's more like you probably told me how you felt about something... and then I choose to not argue and let you say your peace. That is not agreement. That is called listening.
More than likely, when it is a man that is at odds with me over this... what I was actually doing is allowing you to just vent. My feminine ears sensed what they thought was the need for a good "letting out of emotion." I thought about telling you to just "talk it out"... "just let it out"... I'm here for you. But then I was like, "Holy SHIT! He's venting. I spend half my life wondering what the hell he's thinking... and here it is! YAY! Feelings! He's letting me in! I'm in baby... I'm IN!" My heart is swelling. So I'm all wrapped up in your walls coming down... and wondering if I should pat your knee... or get you a bowl of ice cream. I am LISTENING to you. You're sharing your feelings with me. I'm mentally cataloging what your wearing right now so that I might keep this for later. AND NOW I am envisioning us on the beach together, the waves crashing as we're discussing the deepest depths of our souls, and how we feel about our mothers, and our biggest dreams...
I guess I just don't make the connection that you're not venting.
You're being a man. And instead... you're telling me what I need to do, how I need to do it and why it needs to be done. And now that it comes across THAT way... get your own fucking ice cream. And you can pat your own knee.
The one thing that frustrates me more than anything else on the face of the planet is being told that I agreed to something in a conversation that I didn't. Why does this frustrate me so much? I am sure one would assume with a memory like mine this could happen. It's probable. It's feasible. It's probably even HAS happened a time or two. I guess because when I actually do remember the conversation that you're referring to... it's not that I agreed to something and then did the opposite. It's more like you probably told me how you felt about something... and then I choose to not argue and let you say your peace. That is not agreement. That is called listening.
More than likely, when it is a man that is at odds with me over this... what I was actually doing is allowing you to just vent. My feminine ears sensed what they thought was the need for a good "letting out of emotion." I thought about telling you to just "talk it out"... "just let it out"... I'm here for you. But then I was like, "Holy SHIT! He's venting. I spend half my life wondering what the hell he's thinking... and here it is! YAY! Feelings! He's letting me in! I'm in baby... I'm IN!" My heart is swelling. So I'm all wrapped up in your walls coming down... and wondering if I should pat your knee... or get you a bowl of ice cream. I am LISTENING to you. You're sharing your feelings with me. I'm mentally cataloging what your wearing right now so that I might keep this for later. AND NOW I am envisioning us on the beach together, the waves crashing as we're discussing the deepest depths of our souls, and how we feel about our mothers, and our biggest dreams...
I guess I just don't make the connection that you're not venting.
You're being a man. And instead... you're telling me what I need to do, how I need to do it and why it needs to be done. And now that it comes across THAT way... get your own fucking ice cream. And you can pat your own knee.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Editioral Note From My Mommy
Best part of my day, for sure. :) In case you can't read it, this is what it says: My dearest Beth. This is hilarious. Your memmory and mine differ only slightly.
First of all I need to correct your word for claiming other people's horses. The word is "Dibs" (unless of course an evolution took place between your generation and mine, which could have happened while I wasn't looking out your father's window) This form of competion was entertainment while riding in a car when I was little. As long as it was done in a calm and happy way. And looking out all the vehicle windows was allowed to acomplish a win. Somewhere along the line you children changed the rules. I am not sure who did this terrible thing.
Second, I always knew Richie would be bigger and taller than you girls. Image your disbelief when he finally got big enough to fight back and win. Aren't you glad that your father and I believe that it is wrong for a boy to hit a girl??????
Just some thoughts from Mom.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Fearless Friday: Gay Marriage
I've noticed that a lot of bloggers do something called "Wordless Wednesday". So I've decided to make up my own alliterative clever... and do "Fearless Friday". Instead of whining or patting myself on the back about my life, this will be my day to choose something controversial to ramble on about. Mostly just to amuse myself... but also to release some aggression.
So here goes, right? :) Today's topic: "Gay-ness."... "Lesbian-ism" and even..."Homosexuality". As well as their right to shack up together after preforming a ceremony uniting them in the eyes of the law as two people who have entered into a business arrangement to file taxes together and be financially responsible for one another. You know... romance.
Why in the Heavens would I choose this one right off the bat?!?!? I mean... the gulf is gushing oil... the state of Texas has lost it's damn mind... and everyone is about to kill each other over whether or not we're turning communist. (Or is it socialist? Or marxist? And what do those all REALLY mean anyway... hmmm... :)
Well... here it is. My "opinionist-ism".
Number one thing on my list of grievances: Does the "Religious Right" realize that in nature... species go homosexual when there are too many males and not enough females? This is a scientifically proven fact. This "against nature" (not to mention, their very own Creator's great plan) homosexuality in animals who want to get laid... but lack the resources. I'm wondering about that particular Bible passage where God smite the homosexual animals of Sodom and Gomorrah. Perhaps one will find it in "Songs of Solomon" where it's cool for grown men to have sex with little girls and relatives? Let me know.
Punto número dos: "Sanctity of Marriage". When I consider what is sacred within marriage, I think that it is pretty much outlined by our rights within the constitution as free individuals and between two consenting adults. In other words, what Bill and I find sacred between us is really none of anyone's damn business, as long as we're both in agreement. What does happen to be the most "sacred" within the confines of our agreement with the State of California and the Federal Government to report our income as one unit? A sense of humor. Which I doubt very much is unique to a heterosexual relationship... or in The Bible.
What I do realize, however, is that it IS really, really universally important when children are involved... that people hold their responsibility as parents sacred after creating them. For this... I actually applaud a few of the "Christian" based religions on their ways for ensuring that when two of their committed people create another life... they stay together. Fear of "Damnation" to be sure that a kid has at least two people to go to with problems... I'm for it, if that's what it takes. I'm not at all down on single parents or people who leave abusive/totally dysfunctional relationships. One needs to do in this life the best they can with what they got. Plenty of very good and well adjusted people come from single parent families. Statistically speaking, however, children with two parents are overall more well adjusted.
And let us talk statistics for a moment-o... shall we? The current heterosexual divorce rate is over 50%. Does anyone want to venture the guess for just the "split up" ratio of a couple that is gay or lesbian ... and adopts? :) Less than 15%. Probably due to the effort involved for a committed pair of same sex people... who obviously cannot just have sex and "accidentally" conceive another human to raise... but instead have to go through a myriad of paper work... and visits... and testimony by others... (which is all normal)... but then... scrutiny of others who fear they want to abuse/molest/enslave these children. So let me ask you something, if I may: Given the amount of effort it takes to adopt a child if you are gay or lesbian... can we all just agree there probably is no "Damnation"? In conjunction with the amount of heterosexual couples who do, in fact, make children they adopt all about abuse? Can we just agree that the selfless act of individuals raising a child who screams "I hate you!!!" when you give them Honey Nut Cheerios instead of Coco Pops... and then can still find it in their hearts to celebrate every accomplishment and wipe every tear... deserves your support?? Seriously. There should be "Sainthood" given for it. That completely normal... and completely defiant child DID NOT COME FROM THEIR WOMB. (Or... you know... Testes.) Most of the time, there was no "baby bonding period." God called... He agrees with me and decided many years ago (when He created us the way we are) that there is a special place for all who adopt. And they all get the same tax breaks in Heaven for it. Sorry to disappoint.
Further more, on the point of "sanctity"... what exactly is to be preserved? I cannot for the life of me see what it is that is better or holier or superior in regards to your every day man and woman "marriage" vs. your lesbian neighbors and their "relationship". Speaking from experience... which is really all we have right?... I married young. It didn't work. We split up and I found a new, happier life. We had no children, which I (personally) feel is the one reason you should always think twice when you're unhappy. You're children deserve for you two to try your utmost to make it work, at the very LEAST. In my case, though... we were young and inexperienced and free. So we left each other and attempted again in life to find what would make us happy. Why is the divorce that I filed for not any big thing and pretty much just accepted as the way it is now days... but when it comes to granting Gay and Lesbians the right to join forces... well, shit. We can't do that. They'll be marrying each other left and right and then filing for divorce in no time. It will be a free for all... these "gays" running out... getting married... divorcing. Mass hysteria. Cats and dogs, living together...
So seriously... what are we "preserving" with all our argument of "sanctity"? Good luck on that answer, my friend. Because you know what it is we're actually preserving? Our inclination as human beings to look down on others and discriminate. That's all it is. When you were little, you did that. You choose your elementary school friends based on who you felt comfortable with. You played together on the playground and traded lunch and other various treasures with them. You sat next to them. And the weird kids who either smelled funny, looked funny or acted different from you... you stayed away from. If your personality is to lash out at the different... you bullied them. If you're a non-confrontational... you either ignored them or you faked kindness when necessary, and hurried back to your group. Whatever your style... you choose your friends, hung with them and could only wonder what it is that others did when they were together hanging out.
Know what they were doing? Playing together and trading lunches and other various treasures, same as you. Probably just different games, food and stuff is all. And that is ALL this really boils down to. We elitist "heterosexuals" with our finger on the pulse of what it is that makes a marriage work... with our 50%+ divorce "grading curve", of course... we don't know what those "gays" do when they're all "married"... and shit. We know they're having all that "gay sex"... (which of course upsets the majority of us because of our own occasional (or constant) same sex attractions)... but other than the insanely wild gay sexfest we can't stop thinking about, we're at a loss. What are they doing??!? What are they doing over there, in that extremely stylish condo, being all "married"?
We'll... since I know a lot of "the gays" personally... I'll tell you. I'll TOTALLY let you in... and perhaps I'll win some kind of peacekeeping award, because I promise you'll feel better. Come close.
Know what they're doing over there? Making breakfast. Using the restroom. Complaining back and forth to one another about the little annoying habits that they both have. Discussing family/friend/co-worker/acquaintance gossip. Hurting when one says something unkind to the other one. Worrying about their jobs/bills/mortgages/kids/sick parents. Flipping through 500+ channels and being irritated that nothing is on. Lying awake in the bedroom wondering why their spouse is out watching TV instead of coming to bed. Dreaming about accomplishing goals. BBQing and drinking Corona with lime on a hot day. I know this all may sound a little "foreign". Hard to imagine, even.
I will tell you one thing, though. Their condo is sure to be a LOT swankier than yours. So I actually propose that instead of publicly making an ass out of yourself... not to mention looking completely ignorant and hateful... you instead take a baby step today and make gay and lesbians your "frenemies". Let's go ahead and get over our discrimination and wanting for un-equality, circa pre-1954. Let's instead do what any good hearted, yet jealous, person would do... and allow an even playing field. It makes sitting around and gossiping much, much more fun. :)
So here goes, right? :) Today's topic: "Gay-ness."... "Lesbian-ism" and even..."Homosexuality". As well as their right to shack up together after preforming a ceremony uniting them in the eyes of the law as two people who have entered into a business arrangement to file taxes together and be financially responsible for one another. You know... romance.
Why in the Heavens would I choose this one right off the bat?!?!? I mean... the gulf is gushing oil... the state of Texas has lost it's damn mind... and everyone is about to kill each other over whether or not we're turning communist. (Or is it socialist? Or marxist? And what do those all REALLY mean anyway... hmmm... :)
Well... here it is. My "opinionist-ism".
Number one thing on my list of grievances: Does the "Religious Right" realize that in nature... species go homosexual when there are too many males and not enough females? This is a scientifically proven fact. This "against nature" (not to mention, their very own Creator's great plan) homosexuality in animals who want to get laid... but lack the resources. I'm wondering about that particular Bible passage where God smite the homosexual animals of Sodom and Gomorrah. Perhaps one will find it in "Songs of Solomon" where it's cool for grown men to have sex with little girls and relatives? Let me know.
Punto número dos: "Sanctity of Marriage". When I consider what is sacred within marriage, I think that it is pretty much outlined by our rights within the constitution as free individuals and between two consenting adults. In other words, what Bill and I find sacred between us is really none of anyone's damn business, as long as we're both in agreement. What does happen to be the most "sacred" within the confines of our agreement with the State of California and the Federal Government to report our income as one unit? A sense of humor. Which I doubt very much is unique to a heterosexual relationship... or in The Bible.
What I do realize, however, is that it IS really, really universally important when children are involved... that people hold their responsibility as parents sacred after creating them. For this... I actually applaud a few of the "Christian" based religions on their ways for ensuring that when two of their committed people create another life... they stay together. Fear of "Damnation" to be sure that a kid has at least two people to go to with problems... I'm for it, if that's what it takes. I'm not at all down on single parents or people who leave abusive/totally dysfunctional relationships. One needs to do in this life the best they can with what they got. Plenty of very good and well adjusted people come from single parent families. Statistically speaking, however, children with two parents are overall more well adjusted.
And let us talk statistics for a moment-o... shall we? The current heterosexual divorce rate is over 50%. Does anyone want to venture the guess for just the "split up" ratio of a couple that is gay or lesbian ... and adopts? :) Less than 15%. Probably due to the effort involved for a committed pair of same sex people... who obviously cannot just have sex and "accidentally" conceive another human to raise... but instead have to go through a myriad of paper work... and visits... and testimony by others... (which is all normal)... but then... scrutiny of others who fear they want to abuse/molest/enslave these children. So let me ask you something, if I may: Given the amount of effort it takes to adopt a child if you are gay or lesbian... can we all just agree there probably is no "Damnation"? In conjunction with the amount of heterosexual couples who do, in fact, make children they adopt all about abuse? Can we just agree that the selfless act of individuals raising a child who screams "I hate you!!!" when you give them Honey Nut Cheerios instead of Coco Pops... and then can still find it in their hearts to celebrate every accomplishment and wipe every tear... deserves your support?? Seriously. There should be "Sainthood" given for it. That completely normal... and completely defiant child DID NOT COME FROM THEIR WOMB. (Or... you know... Testes.) Most of the time, there was no "baby bonding period." God called... He agrees with me and decided many years ago (when He created us the way we are) that there is a special place for all who adopt. And they all get the same tax breaks in Heaven for it. Sorry to disappoint.
Further more, on the point of "sanctity"... what exactly is to be preserved? I cannot for the life of me see what it is that is better or holier or superior in regards to your every day man and woman "marriage" vs. your lesbian neighbors and their "relationship". Speaking from experience... which is really all we have right?... I married young. It didn't work. We split up and I found a new, happier life. We had no children, which I (personally) feel is the one reason you should always think twice when you're unhappy. You're children deserve for you two to try your utmost to make it work, at the very LEAST. In my case, though... we were young and inexperienced and free. So we left each other and attempted again in life to find what would make us happy. Why is the divorce that I filed for not any big thing and pretty much just accepted as the way it is now days... but when it comes to granting Gay and Lesbians the right to join forces... well, shit. We can't do that. They'll be marrying each other left and right and then filing for divorce in no time. It will be a free for all... these "gays" running out... getting married... divorcing. Mass hysteria. Cats and dogs, living together...
So seriously... what are we "preserving" with all our argument of "sanctity"? Good luck on that answer, my friend. Because you know what it is we're actually preserving? Our inclination as human beings to look down on others and discriminate. That's all it is. When you were little, you did that. You choose your elementary school friends based on who you felt comfortable with. You played together on the playground and traded lunch and other various treasures with them. You sat next to them. And the weird kids who either smelled funny, looked funny or acted different from you... you stayed away from. If your personality is to lash out at the different... you bullied them. If you're a non-confrontational... you either ignored them or you faked kindness when necessary, and hurried back to your group. Whatever your style... you choose your friends, hung with them and could only wonder what it is that others did when they were together hanging out.
Know what they were doing? Playing together and trading lunches and other various treasures, same as you. Probably just different games, food and stuff is all. And that is ALL this really boils down to. We elitist "heterosexuals" with our finger on the pulse of what it is that makes a marriage work... with our 50%+ divorce "grading curve", of course... we don't know what those "gays" do when they're all "married"... and shit. We know they're having all that "gay sex"... (which of course upsets the majority of us because of our own occasional (or constant) same sex attractions)... but other than the insanely wild gay sexfest we can't stop thinking about, we're at a loss. What are they doing??!? What are they doing over there, in that extremely stylish condo, being all "married"?
We'll... since I know a lot of "the gays" personally... I'll tell you. I'll TOTALLY let you in... and perhaps I'll win some kind of peacekeeping award, because I promise you'll feel better. Come close.
Know what they're doing over there? Making breakfast. Using the restroom. Complaining back and forth to one another about the little annoying habits that they both have. Discussing family/friend/co-worker/acquaintance gossip. Hurting when one says something unkind to the other one. Worrying about their jobs/bills/mortgages/kids/sick parents. Flipping through 500+ channels and being irritated that nothing is on. Lying awake in the bedroom wondering why their spouse is out watching TV instead of coming to bed. Dreaming about accomplishing goals. BBQing and drinking Corona with lime on a hot day. I know this all may sound a little "foreign". Hard to imagine, even.
I will tell you one thing, though. Their condo is sure to be a LOT swankier than yours. So I actually propose that instead of publicly making an ass out of yourself... not to mention looking completely ignorant and hateful... you instead take a baby step today and make gay and lesbians your "frenemies". Let's go ahead and get over our discrimination and wanting for un-equality, circa pre-1954. Let's instead do what any good hearted, yet jealous, person would do... and allow an even playing field. It makes sitting around and gossiping much, much more fun. :)
Thursday, June 24, 2010
I Guess I'll Share My Feelings. It's My Damn Blog.
Sooooo... Bill broke my heart this morning by getting on me about something he's upset about. It's always amazing to me that I can go from "happy/content" to "pond scum" in about 60 seconds with him. We're trying to work on this... but it's hard. He sometimes hurts my feelings because he is so very logical, which can be great and irritating all at the same time.
I wish I was a "logical". These "logicals" they walk around and they are always looking at things for function and purpose. As opposed to us "emotionals". We are walking around looking at things for "feeling" and "intensity". The logicals do not understand how decision making can be made off of needs for validation or comfort. If it doesn't have a systematic plan or fulfill a goal... why then you just move on and keep working the puzzle. All the pieces must be shaped like your traditional tongues and grooves and they will fit together eventually and make a nice rectangular picture.
Sometimes I like my crazy puzzle that has circular and trapezoid shaped pieces that somehow fit together and has no definite finished shape. Other times I wish I could just be working on a nice rectangular ending.
Certainly, though, I just wish I had more of this logic super power. And a better protective coating on my heart.
I wish I was a "logical". These "logicals" they walk around and they are always looking at things for function and purpose. As opposed to us "emotionals". We are walking around looking at things for "feeling" and "intensity". The logicals do not understand how decision making can be made off of needs for validation or comfort. If it doesn't have a systematic plan or fulfill a goal... why then you just move on and keep working the puzzle. All the pieces must be shaped like your traditional tongues and grooves and they will fit together eventually and make a nice rectangular picture.
Sometimes I like my crazy puzzle that has circular and trapezoid shaped pieces that somehow fit together and has no definite finished shape. Other times I wish I could just be working on a nice rectangular ending.
Certainly, though, I just wish I had more of this logic super power. And a better protective coating on my heart.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Childhood Tale of Funny
Today my sister Laura poked me on FaceBook. Not being one to take something like that lightly... I informed her that I would be telling mom on her. And to quit looking out my window.
My other sister, Rachel, I discovered does not know of this "looking out my window" offense of which I speak. It occurs to me that neither do you, most likely. And in the event we are ever riding in a car together, I want you to know full well what you should never do, lest you want me to start a pinching fest when those in the front seats aren't looking.
When Laura, Richie and I were little, our parents had normal sedan style vehicles. Which meant that Laura sat next to the door on one side of the backseat... and I sat next to the door on the other side. Richie use to actually be a lot smaller than Laura and I. I know... right? I don't believe me either... but it is the truth. Anyway... he had to sit in the middle. Which he called the "mush pot" and cried about. A lot. Until my dad told him it wasn't the "mush pot"... no, no, son. "It's the KING'S seat. And you're sister's aren't even allowed to sit in it. That's the spot for my boy! My Son! The KING!" Ummmm... I believe that worked. Once.
So when we would take trips... most of the time the ones that consisted of the parent's swapping responsibility for the weekend... we did what a lot of other children usually do when they are sitting 3 to a backseat, and annoyed the crap out of each other... and my parents. I do want to say for the record that Laura started it. ALL of it. Every time. :) So I retaliated by casually turning my head her way and looking out the window on her side of the backseat at the moon, or a horse we were passing or the car next to us... or anything really. As long as it was there, it became very, very interesting to me. And Laura would become INcensed. "MOM! MOM!!! She is doing it again!! She's LOOKING.OUT.MY.WINDOW.!! Make her stop looking out my window. She has her own window!! She doesn't NEED to look out MY window."
So I think the first time that happened... my mom (or dad... whomever had the privilege of making sense out of THAT horrific sibling torture method)... must have laughed, right? It's kinda of funny. Freaking out about someone looking out a window that happens to be next to your head in a car. However... in our family this was a huge issue for YEARS. Whenever I wanted to irritate Laura or when she wanted to irritate me, we did this to each other to the point where my parents would yell non-sensical things like,
"IF ANYONE LOOKS OUT A WINDOW THAT IS NOT THEIRS... AT ANYTHING... FOR ANY REASON... AGAIN, EVERYONE IS GETTING A SPANKING AND GOING TO BED WHEN WE GET HOME."
"ALRIGHT. THAT's IT! If the moon is out Beth's window tonight, then it's her night for the moon. The END. I cannot change the gravitation pull of the earth to make this fair."
"YOU CANNOT say "dibs" (the imaginary method of claiming ownership of other people's horses for your own) to horses that are out Laura's window. You may ONLY say dibs to horses out your window. If there are no horses on your side, I feel badly for you... but it's your day for out of luck. You may instead want to "dibs" cars you like on the other side of the freeway. They'll get you where you want to go a little faster anyway, and you don't have to shovel their poop."
We literally were not allowed to turn our heads in the backseat for years. And my poor, poor brother. The only window he could look out was the front windshield. It's a wonder he has peripheral vision. He had to stare straight ahead, because if he turned his head a millimeter to either side, Laura and I ganged up on him and it was over. I believe this is probably why he grew to be 6'3" and large. It was out of pure spite. And to insure he will NEVER sit in the mush pot again as long as he lives. :)
My other sister, Rachel, I discovered does not know of this "looking out my window" offense of which I speak. It occurs to me that neither do you, most likely. And in the event we are ever riding in a car together, I want you to know full well what you should never do, lest you want me to start a pinching fest when those in the front seats aren't looking.
When Laura, Richie and I were little, our parents had normal sedan style vehicles. Which meant that Laura sat next to the door on one side of the backseat... and I sat next to the door on the other side. Richie use to actually be a lot smaller than Laura and I. I know... right? I don't believe me either... but it is the truth. Anyway... he had to sit in the middle. Which he called the "mush pot" and cried about. A lot. Until my dad told him it wasn't the "mush pot"... no, no, son. "It's the KING'S seat. And you're sister's aren't even allowed to sit in it. That's the spot for my boy! My Son! The KING!" Ummmm... I believe that worked. Once.
So when we would take trips... most of the time the ones that consisted of the parent's swapping responsibility for the weekend... we did what a lot of other children usually do when they are sitting 3 to a backseat, and annoyed the crap out of each other... and my parents. I do want to say for the record that Laura started it. ALL of it. Every time. :) So I retaliated by casually turning my head her way and looking out the window on her side of the backseat at the moon, or a horse we were passing or the car next to us... or anything really. As long as it was there, it became very, very interesting to me. And Laura would become INcensed. "MOM! MOM!!! She is doing it again!! She's LOOKING.OUT.MY.WINDOW.!! Make her stop looking out my window. She has her own window!! She doesn't NEED to look out MY window."
So I think the first time that happened... my mom (or dad... whomever had the privilege of making sense out of THAT horrific sibling torture method)... must have laughed, right? It's kinda of funny. Freaking out about someone looking out a window that happens to be next to your head in a car. However... in our family this was a huge issue for YEARS. Whenever I wanted to irritate Laura or when she wanted to irritate me, we did this to each other to the point where my parents would yell non-sensical things like,
"IF ANYONE LOOKS OUT A WINDOW THAT IS NOT THEIRS... AT ANYTHING... FOR ANY REASON... AGAIN, EVERYONE IS GETTING A SPANKING AND GOING TO BED WHEN WE GET HOME."
"ALRIGHT. THAT's IT! If the moon is out Beth's window tonight, then it's her night for the moon. The END. I cannot change the gravitation pull of the earth to make this fair."
"YOU CANNOT say "dibs" (the imaginary method of claiming ownership of other people's horses for your own) to horses that are out Laura's window. You may ONLY say dibs to horses out your window. If there are no horses on your side, I feel badly for you... but it's your day for out of luck. You may instead want to "dibs" cars you like on the other side of the freeway. They'll get you where you want to go a little faster anyway, and you don't have to shovel their poop."
We literally were not allowed to turn our heads in the backseat for years. And my poor, poor brother. The only window he could look out was the front windshield. It's a wonder he has peripheral vision. He had to stare straight ahead, because if he turned his head a millimeter to either side, Laura and I ganged up on him and it was over. I believe this is probably why he grew to be 6'3" and large. It was out of pure spite. And to insure he will NEVER sit in the mush pot again as long as he lives. :)
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Here Be Dragons
Yesterday I watched this little slice of "Huh. That makes a lot of sense." with my sister.
http://herebedragonsmovie.com/
Lately I've been on kind of a "truth quest". I'm not sure anymore about what it is I believe in spiritually, other than trying to be the best person I can be, and treating others with respect and love. There will be more to come on this, I am sure. For now... enjoy the link. It is very entertaining. :)
http://herebedragonsmovie.com/
Lately I've been on kind of a "truth quest". I'm not sure anymore about what it is I believe in spiritually, other than trying to be the best person I can be, and treating others with respect and love. There will be more to come on this, I am sure. For now... enjoy the link. It is very entertaining. :)
Sunday, June 20, 2010
My Daddy
"Any man can be a father. It takes someone special to be a dad." ~Author Unknown
It is from him that I get my sense of humor and my charisma. It is from him that I am learning responsibility and patience. In all things I seek his approval and am often amazed at his way of knowing this... and gently telling me it's up to me. He loves my sister and brother and I unconditionally and has always been there for us.
One day I hope to be half as great.
“What do I owe my father? Everything.” ~ Henry Van Dyke.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Rachel Is Here!
Rachel Anne Leavell arrived today to stay with us for 35 days! We have big plans for weight loss (where I help her) and house organization (where she helps me). I am very happy. :)
She brought her iTouch with her. It contains a lot of 80's music, per this throwback trend of today's teenagers. I like the excitement on teenage faces when the discover "new" old music. We talked about the Jonas Brothers (and when I say we... I mean she) and first kisses on the way back from the airport. I am very impressed that she has also brought all of her AP homework with her for next year's classes. She gets that from Laura, that academic responsibility thing.
She and Billy are watching "The Land Before Time". I enjoyed very much that she was shocked that I remembered when that movie came out... and that I also vividly remember seeing it in the theatre. Must be my youthful 21(x10) year old appearance...
:)
She brought her iTouch with her. It contains a lot of 80's music, per this throwback trend of today's teenagers. I like the excitement on teenage faces when the discover "new" old music. We talked about the Jonas Brothers (and when I say we... I mean she) and first kisses on the way back from the airport. I am very impressed that she has also brought all of her AP homework with her for next year's classes. She gets that from Laura, that academic responsibility thing.
She and Billy are watching "The Land Before Time". I enjoyed very much that she was shocked that I remembered when that movie came out... and that I also vividly remember seeing it in the theatre. Must be my youthful 21(x10) year old appearance...
:)
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Patience
Had a hard time sleeping last night... but miraculously Charlie went back to sleep early this morning and I got to sort of sleep in.
I feel REALLY good today.
Bill posted a beautiful Steve Earle song this morning, called "Little Rock n' Roller" that brought tears to my eyes. Being the über emotional one in our relationship, I often mistake his lack of outward emotion for what must be going on inside him internally. Bill has spent a total of 14 (short) periods of time with Charlie in the 16 months he's been alive. This last time he left it was shortly before his first birthday and Charlie was a baby not even walking. Only to come home and find him a talking and walking toddler. We kid ourselves when we discuss his absence by saying that "If there is a part of their growing up that is the best to miss, it's the baby stage. Charlie won't remember it." But Bill, I know, won't ever forget not seeing any milestones and having to "get to know" his second son after this whole this is over. I think about what he is giving up for us and how much I truly love him and for one of the few times in life, words of that magnitude escape me.
I learned something about Billy this morning. He woke up and right away began today's existence defiant and stubborn. He wanted peanut butter and jelly for breakfast... and then after I told him he may NOT eat it anywhere but at the kitchen table... why then, he informs me he was "Just tricking me. He hates peanut butter and jelly." Which is so odd, since I am pretty sure that Billy's molecular makeup at this point consists of water, yogurt and PB&J. Every once in awhile he gets crazy eats something exotic like mac-n-cheese or a pork chop. Anyway, I let it be and told him basically that the sandwich was his for the remainder of the day until it was gone. This brought on the barrage of classic juvenile manipulation tactics, with well loved zingers such as, "I HATE you, Mom." and "You are NOT the best mom ever." As well as the best one for last: "If you don't let me eat in the living room I am gonna RUN AWAY."
I didn't react. I just let him stomp it out. After he was upstairs for about 5 minutes, I went up there as well. The little stinker was laying in my bed, so I climbed into bed with him. Interestingly enough, filled with hate and dreams of life as a 4 year old run away, he snuggled up to me. I asked him to tell me a story. The story was about a princess, a prince, a witch, a queen and a king. Apparently in that particular kingdom, the princess and the prince got married and kissed... and then they had the king and queen. Then the witch came along... and she covered them with slime and made them eat boogers. And gave them all allergies. To his credit, he did tell me originally what the witch did to them was a secret because it was gross. I am EVER so glad I insisted that he share.
After about 10 minutes of snuggle story time... he was fine. Came down, ate his PB&J at the table and has been... uhhh... let's go with "normal Billy" ever since. I must remember that my oldest child is a lot like his mother in that he requires physical touch, as well as verbal affirmation, to feel loved. And patience... lots and lots of patience. For our sakes, it's a good thing we have his father to give us both a lot of patience.
I feel REALLY good today.
Bill posted a beautiful Steve Earle song this morning, called "Little Rock n' Roller" that brought tears to my eyes. Being the über emotional one in our relationship, I often mistake his lack of outward emotion for what must be going on inside him internally. Bill has spent a total of 14 (short) periods of time with Charlie in the 16 months he's been alive. This last time he left it was shortly before his first birthday and Charlie was a baby not even walking. Only to come home and find him a talking and walking toddler. We kid ourselves when we discuss his absence by saying that "If there is a part of their growing up that is the best to miss, it's the baby stage. Charlie won't remember it." But Bill, I know, won't ever forget not seeing any milestones and having to "get to know" his second son after this whole this is over. I think about what he is giving up for us and how much I truly love him and for one of the few times in life, words of that magnitude escape me.
I learned something about Billy this morning. He woke up and right away began today's existence defiant and stubborn. He wanted peanut butter and jelly for breakfast... and then after I told him he may NOT eat it anywhere but at the kitchen table... why then, he informs me he was "Just tricking me. He hates peanut butter and jelly." Which is so odd, since I am pretty sure that Billy's molecular makeup at this point consists of water, yogurt and PB&J. Every once in awhile he gets crazy eats something exotic like mac-n-cheese or a pork chop. Anyway, I let it be and told him basically that the sandwich was his for the remainder of the day until it was gone. This brought on the barrage of classic juvenile manipulation tactics, with well loved zingers such as, "I HATE you, Mom." and "You are NOT the best mom ever." As well as the best one for last: "If you don't let me eat in the living room I am gonna RUN AWAY."
I didn't react. I just let him stomp it out. After he was upstairs for about 5 minutes, I went up there as well. The little stinker was laying in my bed, so I climbed into bed with him. Interestingly enough, filled with hate and dreams of life as a 4 year old run away, he snuggled up to me. I asked him to tell me a story. The story was about a princess, a prince, a witch, a queen and a king. Apparently in that particular kingdom, the princess and the prince got married and kissed... and then they had the king and queen. Then the witch came along... and she covered them with slime and made them eat boogers. And gave them all allergies. To his credit, he did tell me originally what the witch did to them was a secret because it was gross. I am EVER so glad I insisted that he share.
After about 10 minutes of snuggle story time... he was fine. Came down, ate his PB&J at the table and has been... uhhh... let's go with "normal Billy" ever since. I must remember that my oldest child is a lot like his mother in that he requires physical touch, as well as verbal affirmation, to feel loved. And patience... lots and lots of patience. For our sakes, it's a good thing we have his father to give us both a lot of patience.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Strange Transmissions
I feel odd today. Sort of out of body like. Kind of drugged. Numb. Not sure about this whole thing...
...Other than I also feel motivated and nothing is bothering me. Nothing. Billy is in his normal button pushing mode and instead of me being all agitated and snappy... he is actually making me laugh with his little smart ass remarks. Charlie and I spent most of the beginning of the morning cuddling and "talking" before Billy got up. It amazes me how different the two of them are personality wise. I like it.
Perhaps this is the right thing to do for now. I don't feel like drinking. Which is new and exciting. I do feel like establishing some sort of household, everyday chore routine that I stick to. As well as schedule for the boys. My block on this is that I want the house perfect and everything exactly right to be able to *start*. Which is just not going to happen. So today we just start...
Geronimo!
...Other than I also feel motivated and nothing is bothering me. Nothing. Billy is in his normal button pushing mode and instead of me being all agitated and snappy... he is actually making me laugh with his little smart ass remarks. Charlie and I spent most of the beginning of the morning cuddling and "talking" before Billy got up. It amazes me how different the two of them are personality wise. I like it.
Perhaps this is the right thing to do for now. I don't feel like drinking. Which is new and exciting. I do feel like establishing some sort of household, everyday chore routine that I stick to. As well as schedule for the boys. My block on this is that I want the house perfect and everything exactly right to be able to *start*. Which is just not going to happen. So today we just start...
Geronimo!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Second Post... Feels a little easier.
Also considering I am going to go with the leg shaving conditioner theme... I figure I should expand upon that a little. May you be amused by my pain.
I am... and always have been... a typical redhead with fair, sensitive skin. You will never know this for sure about me because the day they put me in the ground, I will still be a blond. One of the banes of my existence on earth has always been razor burn. Specifically and most frequently the bikini zone, but off and on the legs and the armpits as well. As well as dry, itchy skin... which leads to an irritation rash no matter how much lotion I slather on.
I have tried every.single.shaving cream known to man, to combat this problem. Lured by promises of "moisture" and "sensitive skin protection"... I am a sucker every time for pretty packaged full of LIES. LIES!! Once I even bought a product online called "Coochie Cream" because it swore on it's mother's grave to leave me bump and irritation free. And I paid $14.50 plus shipping for the same thing $4.95 plus tax at Target gets me: IRRITATION.
One day when I was getting ready to go big on a 3 zone fully targeted hair removal session... it occurred to me that conditioner is emollient. Hmmmm... it's does soften hair. It's good for the scalp. Hmmmm...
So I used it. And it worked. (!) I did still get the slightest bit of razor burn in the bikini area... but comparative wise... only I would notice. Another thing that blew me away was that I got the closest shave 5 blades can bring you next to being skinned alive! My skin was very moisturized and no itch at all. Amazing! All these years and the answer was in my shower all along, shaking it's head at me and playing cool.
The only downside: You do go through blades a lot faster because of the amount of gook you're scraping off of your dermis. To me... WORTH IT. So there you have it.
I am... and always have been... a typical redhead with fair, sensitive skin. You will never know this for sure about me because the day they put me in the ground, I will still be a blond. One of the banes of my existence on earth has always been razor burn. Specifically and most frequently the bikini zone, but off and on the legs and the armpits as well. As well as dry, itchy skin... which leads to an irritation rash no matter how much lotion I slather on.
I have tried every.single.shaving cream known to man, to combat this problem. Lured by promises of "moisture" and "sensitive skin protection"... I am a sucker every time for pretty packaged full of LIES. LIES!! Once I even bought a product online called "Coochie Cream" because it swore on it's mother's grave to leave me bump and irritation free. And I paid $14.50 plus shipping for the same thing $4.95 plus tax at Target gets me: IRRITATION.
One day when I was getting ready to go big on a 3 zone fully targeted hair removal session... it occurred to me that conditioner is emollient. Hmmmm... it's does soften hair. It's good for the scalp. Hmmmm...
So I used it. And it worked. (!) I did still get the slightest bit of razor burn in the bikini area... but comparative wise... only I would notice. Another thing that blew me away was that I got the closest shave 5 blades can bring you next to being skinned alive! My skin was very moisturized and no itch at all. Amazing! All these years and the answer was in my shower all along, shaking it's head at me and playing cool.
The only downside: You do go through blades a lot faster because of the amount of gook you're scraping off of your dermis. To me... WORTH IT. So there you have it.
First Post... Oh the pressure.
My first post. What to say...? Hmmmm...
Bill left Friday. It's Sunday. He'll be home in approximately 108 days. I am trying really hard to think about funny, uplifting things and enjoy the children. I think it's working.
Also I am currently trying to selectively inhibit my serotonin reuptake with little yellow pills. I read up on this shit because I can never bring myself to take a drug if I do not know exactly what it will do to my body and brain chemistry. Apparently when you have a thought... your synapses fire and basically make a connection with each other. Taking an SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor) causes the serotonin involved in this firing process to NOT burn off (as it does normally at 90% rate), but instead to hang around. Serotonin is the stuff your brain releases that makes you happy and gives you a sense of well being. Sooooooo... here's to hoping with a little more serotonin in my brain I will feel like doing all the things I need to do and get them done. In a good mood, even. I've been on it for 5 days now and I will say that just today I noticed a change in my emotion. No desire to yell at the oldest child for any crazy/annoying/defiant thing he did and I haven't cried once. Which is a huge change from yesterday and the days before. So I got that going for me, so far...
My youngest sister is coming on Wednesday and I am really excited about that. I don't know how long she will be here, but I hope it is for a substantial amount of days. It will be really nice to have so much time to enjoy her, instead of having to work the majority of the time and try and enjoy her when I am tired and I just want to zone out from the day. I have beach trips and long workout walks in mind, as well as staying up late watching movies and giggling.
Another thing I am really excited about regardless of how sad I am about Bill leaving again... is our intended move back to the Central Coast. I can't believe Bill agreed to it!!! I could cry I am so happy to be going home. I have never been very happy about living in the mountains of San Bernardino. Mostly due to the "San Bernardino" part... but a healthy portion now has to do with the snow and the ice and the fog. I left "home" in January of 2004. It was suppose to be for a short period of time while I recovered from my split from Wes. Obviously Bill coming into my life and being all "soulmate-ish" and impregnating me with those darn beautiful boys kinda of screwed up that plan. And he's told me from day one that we'd never move up there because we couldn't afford it. I don't know which part of my whining finally broke the camel's back... but I could not be happier. I cannot wait to show him my home and all of the million reasons I love life up there. Yay!
Bill left Friday. It's Sunday. He'll be home in approximately 108 days. I am trying really hard to think about funny, uplifting things and enjoy the children. I think it's working.
Also I am currently trying to selectively inhibit my serotonin reuptake with little yellow pills. I read up on this shit because I can never bring myself to take a drug if I do not know exactly what it will do to my body and brain chemistry. Apparently when you have a thought... your synapses fire and basically make a connection with each other. Taking an SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor) causes the serotonin involved in this firing process to NOT burn off (as it does normally at 90% rate), but instead to hang around. Serotonin is the stuff your brain releases that makes you happy and gives you a sense of well being. Sooooooo... here's to hoping with a little more serotonin in my brain I will feel like doing all the things I need to do and get them done. In a good mood, even. I've been on it for 5 days now and I will say that just today I noticed a change in my emotion. No desire to yell at the oldest child for any crazy/annoying/defiant thing he did and I haven't cried once. Which is a huge change from yesterday and the days before. So I got that going for me, so far...
My youngest sister is coming on Wednesday and I am really excited about that. I don't know how long she will be here, but I hope it is for a substantial amount of days. It will be really nice to have so much time to enjoy her, instead of having to work the majority of the time and try and enjoy her when I am tired and I just want to zone out from the day. I have beach trips and long workout walks in mind, as well as staying up late watching movies and giggling.
Another thing I am really excited about regardless of how sad I am about Bill leaving again... is our intended move back to the Central Coast. I can't believe Bill agreed to it!!! I could cry I am so happy to be going home. I have never been very happy about living in the mountains of San Bernardino. Mostly due to the "San Bernardino" part... but a healthy portion now has to do with the snow and the ice and the fog. I left "home" in January of 2004. It was suppose to be for a short period of time while I recovered from my split from Wes. Obviously Bill coming into my life and being all "soulmate-ish" and impregnating me with those darn beautiful boys kinda of screwed up that plan. And he's told me from day one that we'd never move up there because we couldn't afford it. I don't know which part of my whining finally broke the camel's back... but I could not be happier. I cannot wait to show him my home and all of the million reasons I love life up there. Yay!
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