Outgrowing Religion

Read this article this morning.  It's an Op-Ed piece entitled "Learning to Respect Religion" by New York Times journalist, Nicholas Kristof.  I subscribe to his public updates on Facebook, as I find a lot of the topics he writes on interest me.  I was surprised to read this particular article, though, as I could not disagree with him more on the subject matter.  

The main point of the commentary is to illustrate a perceived movement of late among the Atheist community to have "...grudging admiration for religion as an ethical and cohesive force."  Obviously, I can't speak for any other atheist, and certainly not for an entire community, but the idea strikes me as laugh out loud absurd.  Stating facts as they are is not a "grudging admiration"; any more than stating that the sky is blue means that blue is your favorite color.  Reality is that inside an incredibly large pile of fear, evil and hate, religion does have a few sociological nuggets of positive service to humanity.  Plain and simple.  Kristof goes on to point these out: "...the ways in which religions deliver sermons, promote morality, engender a spirit of community, make use of art and architecture, inspire travels, train minds and encourage gratitude at the beauty of spring." (From "Religion For Atheists", by Alain de Botton)  And to explain that "scientists often misunderstand religion because they home in on individuals rather than on the way faith can bind a community." 


Essentially saying that to completely dismiss religion as an organization, is to also dismiss a large amount of good that lends to a strong society.  And that because of this, religious organization deserves, at the very minimum, universal respect.  The last line kills me because I all I can imagine is him following it up with, "Don't hate the playa'; Hate the game."

From Geoff Berg’s response at Partisan Gridlock yesterday:

“Atheism is the rejection of theism. It isn’t an organizing principle, it isn’t a political philosophy and it certainly isn't a religion. It is the rejection of a proposition. That’s it.  Nobody disputes that religion, which is an organizing principle and a political philosophy, can unify people, and occasionally to the greater good.  Every major religion can point to a charitable arm that passes out food, builds hospitals, and clothes the poor.

Religion also unifies the government of the Islamic Republic of Iran in the belief that burying adulterers to their necks and stoning them to death will spare the rest of society god’s wrath. It unifies members of al-Qaeda in the belief that flying planes into buildings is the execution of god’s will. It unifies leaders of the "Lord's Resistance Army" in the belief that forcing children to mutilate and murder members of their own families is a divinely ordained mission. Religious belief unifies Jewish fundamentalists in the belief that evicting families from their homes in the West Bank and taking their land is justified because the territory was deeded to them in perpetuity by the almighty.

Hezbollah, the Iranian-sponsored Lebanese terrorist group, is unified by violent, fundamentalist Shia Islam. It is responsible for killing thousands — including 241 US marines, soldiers and sailors. It is also one ofLebanon’s largest providers of health care.

Kristof is inexplicably impressed with Haidt’s research showing that fear of god makes for a more orderly society. Is it really a scientific revelation that fear forces people to act in accordance with what they believe to be the wishes of an omnipotent, jealous, and vengeful being who condemns the non-compliant to everlasting torment if they refuse (as described by his helpful earthly proxies, of course)?

Sounds a lot like a dictatorship, which as Kim Jong Un and his late father and grandfather can attest, is a great way to keep people in line."

BRAV-O.  Could not have been put any better than that myself.  That which brings small amounts of good... or if you want to be generous, even a good for every evil... deserves no respect in the face of it's degree of human devastation.  John Wayne Gacy murdered at least 33 men in the course his life time.  We don't condone or forget this because he also brought so much joy to the children when he would dress like a clown and entertain them.  That would be insanity.  Why, then, is organized religion any different or given any more of a free pass?

Every problem facing the world at large right now has it's root in a religious conflict.  The elimination of religion would do more to heal the world than all other solutions that circumvent the root combined.  This is because no matter what a religious organization does to "help" ease what ails the world... the problems wouldn't be there in the first place if religion didn't exist.  Knowing this means that, NO... no I don't have to pay credit to any belief system based wholly on intangibles, lies and deceit if they should feed the poor that years of religious struggles have kept poor in the first place. And NO... no I don't have to give any credit to a bastardized, disorganized, poorly kept historical record system, still prevalent for the purpose of controlling people under the guise of "hope".  Not when it has been a tool of war and the excuse to brutalize, torture and murder billions for centuries.
   
Nor do I have to give any of them credit for reinforcing "morals" that have NATURALLY evolved with modern civilization.  It is not because of our belief in a deity that we've come to the realization that we ought to treat everyone as equals.  We've done that IN THE FACE OF and IN SPITE OF religion, if we're to be honest.  Everything in our history that involves the systematic and genocidal killing of human beings has been directly because of religious beliefs, and it was upon our own horror at our reflection that we choose to evolve.  The more scientific knowledge we gain, the more intelligent we become, the less we fear and the more unified we become.    

If only we could let go of the need for an "afterlife" and something beyond simple mortality.  We will die and it's ok.  Unless we have achieved something of greatness, our memory will fade and that's ok, too.  "Life", "Mankind", "Humanity"...  we don't need an infinite number of people we have to remember... nor do future generations need to infinitely remember us.  What lives on, and what should be a stride as one for all of humanity, is to teach the future that education, open minds, information, and healthy skepticism paired with a desire to never stop on the quest for truth IN ALL THINGS is the only way to purge ourselves of weakness and corruption.  No religion teaches this!  

We need to start recognizing we have outgrown, as a specie, the need for our "fate" to be in the hands of anyone else, including a "God".  We've outgrown the need to congregate to keep us unified in our beliefs... and to keep us from "straying" TO reality.  Worship does not need to be the reason that we come together for human interaction.  Science has proven to us that there are consequences for our poor lifestyle choices and we need only educate ourselves.  Democratic government in a free society is there to enforce human rights and prevent infringement;  Morality does not need to be legislated beyond that.  Enough proof exists that we can free this world from the bondage of "pre-ordainment" and prejudice against biological differences.  Credit only where credit is due, Mr. Kristof, is just the first step.

Emotional Propaganda: You're Not A Hero If You Save People By Lying

I spent Saturday morning listening to this piece on NPR's "This American Life".  The topic was the retraction of a story done in January by monologist Mike Daisey who on air, told a fabricated experience of his visit to one of the factories in China that makes Apple products. As NPR reports, "The piece essentially made Daisey Apple's chief critic and it also inspired a Change.org petition that collected more than 250,000 signatures demanding that Apple better the working conditions at the factories."  Daisey also wrote a one man performance called "The Agony and The Ecstasy of Steve Jobs", in which he includes the same fictional account of his trip.

It would seem that aside from actually going to China, actually meeting with a interpreter who calls herself Kathy Lee, and actually visiting a real manufacturing plant called Foxconn... the entire rest of the piece is completely fabricated.  The tale he tells about his visit state everything from grossly under aged workers as young as 12, to disfigured employees who became so due to untreated on the job accidents, to poisoned factory workers who received permanent motor damage from electronic cleaning solvent, to Foxconn its self being guarded by workers with guns to keep people working and thieves from stealing products.  It's basically everything you've ever feared and imagined about the way communist China allows businesses to treat their workers, realized... but untrue and created to use you in this case.

To me, this is the absolute WORST thing anyone could have done in an effort to expose the problems within China's labor force.  As Jeff Yang of The Wall Street Journal puts it: "The story he’s telling is an important one. There’s a huge human cost to the creation of cool devices. But by blurring fact and fiction, not on stage, but on camera, in print and on air, Daisey has seriously compromised his ability to act as a credible voice on this issue — and significantly hurt the cause of labor organizers and advocates in China, who now face the possibility that all of their claims will be treated with skepticism or dismissed, both by authorities in China and potential supporters in the U.S."   Yes. 1000%  THAT.

We saw this happen recently with the Kony 2012 project, as well. The not for profit group The Invisible Children used highly emotional media that was not 100% factual and overly simplified in an effort to bring about awareness... and in the end has probably hurt the cause more than it has helped it. Not to mention it has stripped away the credibility of an organization who has arguably done a lot of good up until now. 

Emotional manipulation seems to be the go to tactic for any cause who wishes to convey what they do not have the evidence to sway you with;  To "liven up" and make entertaining for us what we might have otherwise glossed over.  We have a responsibility TO KNOW AND UNDERSTAND THIS.  We have a responsibility to ourselves... but more importantly to our communities and to our country... to wade through things that affect us emotionally and look at the issues with open eyes and open minds.  Regardless of what your gut instincts, faith and principles are… if you are being lied to, to reinforce these core beliefs…you have a responsibility to figure this out!  And then another to question and seek to reinforce your positions with the truth if they then remain your positions.

Mike Daisey did just the opposite.  When he discovered that the truth is Foxconn has been positively affected by Apple’s demands that they adhere to humane treatment of their employees, he lied.  He lied because there are so many other manufacturing plants that do not. He lied in the name of awareness.  This cannot be permitted or condoned no matter what the benefit as, there is no line that can be drawn to keep the “wrong” from doing it too.

What we take away from this in the wake of being lied to is the importance of knowing that no matter which side you fall on in an issue, if you find yourself becoming emotional there should be a bell going off in your head that warns you to gather all the information before you proceed.  Against your instincts, even.  We should be actively seeking the truth at all times and in all things.  What you know as "truth" today... deserves to be questioned again tomorrow if it deserves to be shared at all.

Fearless Friday: If You Make Your Point Like This... Then You Have Told The World You Are Stupid.

One of the top stories in my feed this morning was this.  I saw the above photo shared a few times yesterday and apparently it's now been purported to have gone "viral".  (I take issue with the way that term is used so loosely now, BTW… but sufficed to say it went big enough to have caught the eye of the Huffington Post.) The article is about the sticker pictured in the photo and a few other racist bumper stickers beginning to circulate pre-election.

Here is the thing I am glad people don’t (apparently) realize about making this type of statement out loud:  Though you will undoubtedly be offending your intended audience...  you lose the battle and instead help to further your opposition’s cause.  Nice going! 

Before applying a racist bumper sticker to your car in hopes it will cause people not to vote for Obama, here are some questions to ask yourself: Why are you against wanting to re-elect President Obama?  Is it because you feel he has been ineffective?  Are you upset about having a democratic president?  Do you think he's unqualified to run the country?  Are you vehemently opposed to his policies?  Do you feel the state of the union is in peril because of the decisions he made while in office?  Good. Great.  Fantastic.  These are all quality reasons to take issue with a POTUS.  There are a great many people that would love for you to share your thoughts and will listen to the evidence you have that supports your opinion.  If you are concise and present enough facts, you may even sway enough people into joining your cause and successfully get someone else elected at the end of this year.  Long live democracy!

Unfortunately, though, if you hate President Obama predominantly because the man has a higher concentration of melanin in his skin cells than you do... then I am very sorry (for the rest of us) to report that you are stupid.  President Obama... as well as you and I... have a great deal of control over many things in life... but the chemistry and make up of our bodies is not one of them.  Frankly, if we had the science needed to change things like this, then I am sure preventing "stupid", or the lack of desire to seek knowledge and educate one's self, would be a lot higher on the list than being able to change cellular pigment levels.

Inferring that some one has any more or any less potential for achievement solely based on this uncontrollable physical trait not only discredits your argument, but it shows the world you possess a brain that is inferior.  Perhaps due to the same uncontrollable genetics... but more than likely because you choose to be stupid.  When intelligent people determine your intelligence is inferior, than any case you make, no matter how compelling, is discredited in their minds because you have demonstrated the absence of the fundamental ability to determine what is a reasonable, rational argument… and what is hateful, ignorant bullshit.  THUS... you will succeed in only FURTHERING that which you seek to change in the opposite direction of your intention because your position is now associated with "stupidity".

To put it plainer:  Racist bumper stickers ensure that your team LOSES.  You, and your fellow racists, are essentially traitors to your own cause.

There is an art to debate and to getting people to consider your point.  The most important part is purpose.  The second most important part is method.  What do you hope to achieve when you argue your position?  Are you hoping to change someone's mind?  Are you hoping to further awareness?  Are you hoping to convince people to agree with you in what you feel is right?  Do you seek to expand your position by collecting points from the opposition?  Are you curious as to how someone could feel differently than you do?  Or do you just enjoy the attention and validation of being listened to?  There must be a purpose.  Otherwise, what is the point of even discussing anything?

Then depending on what your purpose is, your goal will not be accomplished on a significant level unless the method you use to convey your positions is credible.  Trying to discredit President Obama by pointing out he is (obviously) black may gain you some chuckles and back slaps from those close to you who share your views, but on a much broader level, the backlash against people like you grows larger and stronger.  Congratulations, Stupid!  All of the sudden people who weren't interested yesterday in getting involved have become offended.  When someone is offended, they tend to react.  In fact, if you piss someone off enough, you are much more likely to get them to react… than you would be at getting the people who adamantly agreed with you to do so.

Case in point:  The Susan G. Komen/Planned Parenthood controversy. In trying to further their anti-choice agenda by pulling funding from Planned Parenthood for (very obviously) fabricated reasons, Nancy Brinker and Karen Handle only succeeded in FURTHERING their opposition by awakening  a large group of people who were otherwise not particularly against them.  Only a small percentage of people will now fund or support the charity, even given their reversal in policy.  The Susan G. Komen Foundation has LOST CREDIBILITY.  They will never again reach an audience on the same levels they previously had, thus anything they choose to promote or oppose will be disregarded and dismissed as unimportant.  They have lost the war for their team by wielding the weapon of ignorance.

So really… carry on, stupid people!  Carry on. 

SFP3: Character Developement

Here is an example of irony:  When I was younger I use to sit around and make up lists of baby names that I loved.  Like to the point that it was probably very unsettling to anyone who happened to come across one of my one million and five notebooks.  I could not wait to grow up and have a baby so that I could name him or her.  Now that I am a grown up older and I have two babies... I didn't end up getting to choose either one of their names as they are both named after their grandfathers.  BTW, getting to name a baby?  NOT that awesome.  I’m glad I didn’t have babies just to name them as I had down in the original plan for “adult life”.

So really... all I have left in life at this point is to become a writer because how else am I ever going to get to pick a cool name to give to a human being unless it's in one of my stories?  If we were to get a pet at some point I am 1000% positive anything I suggest will be out voted.  If my boys end up procreating, I have a strong suspicion their wife or partner will not be down with their MIL naming their kid.  This is pretty much the only avenue I have left.

That being said, here I am at my MOMENT.

I’ve thought about it a lot.  I like the name Beau for a female lead.  Not too many girls are named Beau and it certainly hasn't been used enough for anyone to have an image pre-conjured in their head.  I imagine her to be a fairly generic pretty woman.  Not beautiful... just pleasant looking.  Not skinny, not fat, not perfectly proportionate... just normal.  I think she should be a brunette with blond highlights and blue eyes.  To give her depth maybe I'll give her crappy skin, some stretch marks and slightly crooked teeth.  Personality wise, I think she should be witty, sarcastic and very pragmatic.  I think she should like making excel spreadsheets and organizing things.  I’ll most likely haver her work from home making things for an etsy shop and being a "virtual assistant" for some local businesses.

Where will she live:  The South?  The East?  The Midwest?  The Pacific Coast?  I would love to set her in the south because I think it would provide ample opportunity to deal with the religious aspect of the main ideas.  The problem is what I know about the south, I've only read in "The Help" or seen in "Forest Gump", right?  I don't remember too much about living in Texas except that I was an obvious outcast and did not fit in at all... and that Texas’s idea of "Mexican food" sucked.  So maybe the Mid west then?  Still ample opportunity to deal with the religious theme.  I have enough friends and family members that have lived there all their lives that I could probably either ascertain enough of the information or ask questions.  OR... should I write about what I know and set her in CA?  Maybe on the central coast?  Hmmmm....

Beau's Husband:  I don't know his name yet (something normal though like Tom or Tim or Peter) but I am 99.99999% sure he is going to be an astrophysicist who considers himself an "Ancient Alien Theorist".  And let's just be upfront right now... I am going to 100% model him after Bill.  How could I not?  Bill is the perfect balance of everything… unless I am currently pissed at him.  But that would be the point in modeling the husband after him.  He'll interact with Beau and his kids the way Bill interacts with us.  Physically he'll be a moderately attractive dork.

Beau's kids:  How many?  2 or 3.  Sexes?  I don't have girls, I only have boys... but I think there should be at least 1 daughter.  I'm thinking 2 boys and a girl with the girl being the oldest.  Ages?  Names?  ........ Maybe 8, 6 & 4?  Tabitha or Sadie or Alex (Lexy?) or (?)for the daughter.  For the boys maybe I'll make it easy and just name one after his father (He'll be TJ or PJ)... and the other one can be Jake.

Here is a pretty important thought:  Where do astrophysicists even live?  Where (besides NASA) do they even work?  What do they even do all day for their job besides be awesome and introduce themselves like, “Yes.  Nice to meet you.  I am Peter and I rule at life because I am Astrophysicist.”   I don’t even know.  Perhaps I begin here.

SFP2: The Method

A day to mull over the main idea(s)... and another thing that strikes me as difficult is the method in which to deliver the story.  In my mind, really good stories work in two ways:  Either they are fantastical enough in the details that an entire alternate world is directly (or indirectly) created... and therefore free license is given to make anything true (Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, Star Wars, Ect.)...  OR the story is so realistic and the facts woven in are so accurate, that that the liberties taken in the fiction portion just SEEM realistic (The Da Vinci Code, The Color Purple, Forest Gump, ect.).

I tend to favor the second method.  I love when I read something that is "enlightening".  I love when you get to walk away from something you knew a variable level of information on and you have something new to add.  Even if the information is purely anecdotal, it gives you more perspective.

One idea that I toss around a lot that encompasses BOTH is the story of a normal, every day woman who suddenly realizes she has the power to end the problems of the world, if for no other reason than she just gets sick of all of the tragedy on the she hears about in news.  In my mind she would just hit some sort of breaking point in her mind and suddenly a flip would switch in her head and she'd rise up like some sort of "God"... and poof!... the wicked would be incinerated.  Which would allow me to make a personal comment on social issues and what I think matters.  I imagine the story then seguing into the after math of her rising up and cleansing the world of all "the bad people".  What would the US be like?  Africa?  Asia?  Remote areas of the world?  What could happen if the entire world was a free democracy and we all competed on the same level?  What kind of universal society would we be and what kind of social responsibilities would be on a WORLD WIDE level at that point?

It's exciting and terrifying to me to sit down and write this.  Why?  Because though I have a very general idea of the way other countries are run (communist, democratic, monarch, ect.) and a very, very, VERY mild understanding of the conditions and economic level... I know nothing beyond what I occasionally read.  The whole Kony frenzy really hit home as a primary example of how truly ignorant I am.  I watched the video and was moved enough to post it and encourage others to watch it.  I know NOTHING about Uganda, and I know I know nothing about Uganda.  YET...Child slavery = emotion.  Emotion = knee jerk reaction.  Knee jerk reaction = unqualified judgement.  Unqualified judgement = no research or attempt to seek truth.  No research or truth sought =  THE DARK SIDE.  It paralyses me.

So what do I do?  Begin writing and when I want to make specific comments look up as much info as I can in hopes I will be depicting something intelligent?  I'm overwhelmed.  I wish I could take the pills that, that dude in the movie "Limitless" did if just for a weekend so that I could read about and 100% absorb the history and current state of the entire world.  Then I'd have the story AND the way to save the world, right?  LOL.

Story Formulation Part 1: The Point

There are plenty of novels that have been written with little to no point.  I want to have a point, though, and I feel this has complicated things a great deal.  I admire authors that can weave a profound point into the tales they tell.  For instance, the point of Star Wars is that you have to have balance between good and evil... but that in the end, good will prevail.  The Lord of the Rings, I believe, symbolizes the Christian belief of the journey to Heaven and the perils and temptations along the way.  To Kill a Mockingbird teaches us about the dangers of prejudice.  Many lesser novels I love deal with discovering inner strength, finding truth and being human.

I want to write a story that clearly demonstrates the dangers of not critically thinking about everything, as well as the negative effects of stating your beliefs in things you do not really believe in because it's easy and comfortable. I want my the stories I tell to be so entertaining and clever that it isn't till the end that you realize I've had you agreeing with things you didn't even know you agreed with before.  If I could write something that got even a handful of people thinking differently, I would consider it one of my greatest achievements.

So... the point.  The point is many things right now.  Some possible ideas include:

• Watching news that is designed to sway you a particular way exclusively.
• Talking to and engaging only with people who share your views.
• Living your life unaware of where the food you eat comes from and how it is processed.
• Living life unaware of where 99.99% of everything you buy comes from and how it is manufactured and delivered to the shelf of your favorite big box store.
• Living your life unaware of the absolutely horrific tragedies that befall millions of people every single day because they don't live in a country that has standards and democracy.
• Saying you believe in God because of how many people you would disappointed in you if you asked questions.
• Not caring to ask any questions about anything beyond what's for dinner.
• Not recognizing the comfort of routine and what it say about you (not necessarily in a negative way.)
• The perversion, nonacceptance and exploitation of sex and how it is woven into everything we do naturally no matter how hard we fight it.
• How the fear of death and the biological need to survive have kept myth alive in the face of evidence for thousands... if not millions... of years.
  
  That's only 10 ideas.  There are more.  So many, many more.  How do you make this interesting and exciting?  Especially to the mass who is so exactly the embodiment of these problems and thinking points?  What from the above list is THE MOST IMPORTANT of the main ideas?  What change would have the most impact?

If only I could just get it started...

One of my New Years resolutions is to finally sit down and write a story to entertain myself and possibly a select few people who would actually read a story I wrote. I want it to be a sort of female-y, Sci-Fi tale with some political commentary woven in. I want it to also have a relateable heroin, a fair amount of adventure, a fair amount of humor and some kissing parts. I have some of it worked out in my head but here is what happens to me every time I am like, "Ok. Time to sit down and outline and then WRITE! Let's do this!":

Step 1: Begin thinking about the awesome parts of the story you want to work in.

Step 2: Begin thinking about how unsure you are of some of the details and how to work up to those parts.

Step 3: Begin thinking about how you want to be extremely credible and accurate in your story telling.
Step 4: Begin to doubt what you know is enough to achieve this.

Step 5: Decide that the year is still young and get lost on Facebook instead.


It's now March. The year is starting to age...

:/

Beth Howard, Warrior Princess of Power

I should title this post simply: Public Service Announcement.

I really considered it.

HOWEVER, I am going to instead title it with the pat on the back that I earned for what I have just endured. If you are easily made ill or faint of heart, read at your own risk. I will not be liable for anything that happens to you as mouth is gaping open and your skin is crawling.

Our story begins Friday July 15th, in the Stater Bros. Super Market on 40th & Waterman. I picked Bill up from work and we then proceeded there to do this weekend's shopping In the back of my mind, I had been formulating how I was going to talk him into spending Saturday afternoon at Deep Creek in Cedar Glen with some of my girlfriend's from work and their children... INSTEAD of cleaning. Weird? No.. no. Not at all.

You see this is a consistent issue between the Bill and I, as I have the ability to change direction at any time. Because I am like a ninja. A "plan's have changed... no problem" ninja. He is an old, old man of 41. He lacks spontaneity almost entirely. He likes order and routine and consistency. He enjoys "planning"very, very much. So much so that every single phone call we ever have includes the phrase, "So... what's you plan?". Sometimes I want to say, "Become the Speaker of the House, the Senate Majority Leader and the President of these United States. ALL AT THE SAME TIME." just to throw a wrench.

(I won't say I digress; I'll just say: Enywayz. I'm from CA, after all.) When The Man comes home, he wants to come home to a spotless house, a wife who looks like she just stepped out of a 1955 Playboy magazine and dinner that could have come from a photo in Food and Wine Magazine. Then he wants to shower, put his feet up, gather his family around him, watch a movie, drink a Stone Ruination and reeeelaaaaxxxx.

On Saturdays, he wants to get up... smoke a cigarette, drink about 27 cups of coffee, use the restroom, smoke a cigarette, make off color remark and/or smack my ass, open his BBQ Bible, pray, choose a recipe, smoke a cigarette, go to the expensive rip off store for 47 things he forgot at Stater Bros, smoke a cigarette, fill my children full of donut-y goodness and spawn insanity, spend the rest of the morning measuring and preparing, smoke a cigarette, turn on various History Channel programming OR Ice Road Truckers, take a nap, get up, smoke a cigarette, have 27 more cups coffee, use the restroom again, smoke a cigarette, make another off color remark and/or smack my ass, light the grill, crack a Ruination, smoke a cigarette, GRILL, smoke a cigarette, prepare side dishes, present dinner, eat, smoke a cigarette, choose a movie, watch movie, smoke a cigarette, send kids to bed... expect off color remarks and/or ass smacking to pay off and then sleep. There is very little exception to this, unless something has been in the works for several weeks, and even then I watch him struggle internally with reasons mayyyyybbbbbbeeee we should just stay home.

Alas, poor Bill. Every weekend he comes home to me. I would LOVE to look like a 1955 Playboy model. I would love to have a spotless house. I would love to have a dinner resembling something out of Food and Wine Magazine on the table for him, ready and waiting every Friday night. Really. I would. I'd also really like to bring about world peace, end hunger, empower women from every culture and cure AIDS and cancer. Unfortunately for Bill, these things are further up on the list. Also, I work at Hell, Inc. all week and do all the weekly child rearing myself. So housework? MWHAHAHA! I laugh at house work. Beyond the nightly dishes, 2 or 3 vacuuming stints and a load of laundry or two... if you expected more, I'd be happy to get you a gift. The gift of DISAPPOINTMENT. Act now and I'll throw in a free swift kick to the junk.

POINT: More often than not The Man comes home to a messy house. Being the amazing guy he is, he just walks in, looks around, sighs, and without a word goes into the kitchen and makes dinner for all of us. Then he gets in the shower, gets his beer, gets his movie time in with the boys and smiles over at me like I mine as well be a 1955 Playboy model. This is now a very probable certainty to him, so he's added it to his routine and automatically plans to spend most of Saturday morning helping me undo to the house what has been done all week.

He is an awesome man. We all know this. I won't go on and on. HOWEVER... you might possibly see, despite the awesome, how a girl who thrives on inconsistency and excitement can get kinda frustrated. And to be fair, vice versa.

Let's return now to Stater Bros., 40th & Waterman. Work friend had invited us that very morning to attend an impromptu gathering at the local creek, which kind of doubles as our "river experience" around here. Sure to be a "sun soaking, beer drinking, young boys get to play and stay occupied, while the adults laugh and chat" heck of a time. I thought about that for about .000001 of a second before I decided that I'd rather do that, than clean. As we're walking the aisles of Staters, I can think of no other tactic than to just blurt out

"I know you're going to need a little bit of time to think about this and get acclimated....BUT... IreallyreallyreallywanttogowithRachelandNikkiandbunchofother

peopledowntoDeepCreektomorrowandhangoutfortheafternoon!!! So we should probably just get sandwich stuff and snacks and drinks while we're here because we'll need it for tomorrow, right? I mean take minute and think about it. But please say yes! But take a minute... to think about it. And adjust. I know you need some time. It'll be so fun. I promise. I'll walk away now to get bread and chips and leave you to think. About saying, "Yes. I'd love to. Sounds super fun."

Scowl. Stern look. Shifting of eyes. Rolling of eyes. Irritated sigh. Exasperated sigh. Starts to say, "You know..." Pauses. Irritated sigh. Exasperated sigh. "Why do you ALWAYS do this?"

"Why do I always do what? Arrange for fun times? Strive for quality family bonding in "outing" form? Force you to make snap decisions so as to make you a better and more well rounded person?"

"Deviate from the plan!!! We have a plan. You already told me the house is a mess. I told you I want to spend tomorrow CLEANING so that I can feel comfortable in my house and you don't bitch at me when I leave Sunday that I left it all for you to do."

"Ok. How about this? How about I bust my ass tonight while you guys are eating and watching the movie and I get the house UBER SPECTACULAR clean. THEN... you live on the edge a little and commit to an activity you have had less than 72 hours to weight all the options, points and possibilities on. It'll be fun. I'll be YOU. And you... YOU get to be ME. Lucky you. I might try to stand and pee I'll get so caught up. First I'll make a plan, though."

Scowl. Stern look. Shifting of eyes. Rolling of eyes. Irritated sigh. Exasperated sigh. Growl of frustration. "FINE."

So that was the "plan". I began "cleaning all the things" immediately after we got home. I was on it. Dinner... made. Dishes.. done. Counters... spotless. Stove... sparkling. Table... wiped DOWN. Kitchen floor....

.......

"What the HELL?!? BILL!!! BILL! I think there is a maggot on our kitchen floor."

"What?!? It's probably not a maggot. And if it is, it's probably because I had the door open earlier. Anyway, thank you for cleaning up. The house is looking good. I appreciate it. Come to bed soon."

That literally happened. I said, I think there is a maggot in my home... and he literally brushed my concern off, took the boys upstairs, put them to bed and then went to bed himself.

I had no reaction to that at first. Until I realized there was not one maggot on my kitchen floor. There were about 20 of them when it was all said and done.

Let's rewind for just a minute before we get into the next portion. Earlier when I said that my house was never going to be spotless by then end of the week, I meant it. I do feel the need to explain to you, though, that just because my house is not spotless... doesn't mean it's dirty. It's cluttered. It's got too much stuff and not enough places for it. It's got laundry piled up and toys on the floor. It's occasionally got toothpaste on the counter that needs to be wiped up. It's got dishes in the sink more often than not. It's got an entryway that needs to be swept. The boy's rooms always looks like a bomb exploded. Dusting should happen more often. I consider this be "normal". We aren't hoarders. Or the renters from hell that move in and never clean anything. If you showed up unannounced, I would be a little embarrassed, but I'd let you in. Don't do that, though.

I would hope as I continue you, you would keep this in mind for the rest of the story. Beth Howard: Not super clean... but not a hoarder/non-cleaner.

I am sure that you can imagine, as soon as I realized that Bill was WRONG... it was a maggot and that it had friends, I went directly to the laundry room and got out my favorite cleaning friend, Bleach. Bleach is my "go to" comfort cleaner. If I am questionable about the cleanliness of anything, Bleach it is. For the next 20 minutes, I hand scrubbed/sanitized the kitchen floor, counters, refrigerator door oven front and bottom cupboard doors. I was feeling better. Confused as to where the hell those things came from... but better. Just as I was about to sit down and think on that...

"FUCK. You have got to be fucking KIDDING ME."

To my credit I did not have a mental breakdown at this point. I looked at the carpet in my dinning room and noticed about 50 more maggots writhing around on my rug and did NOT lose my shit. I kept it together. Thank you... I know. I know. I simply moved the chairs into the kitchen, moved the table into the living room got out the steam cleaner and began to clean the hell out of the carpet and rug. WHERE ARE THE COMING FROM?!?

Then it hit me. The trash. I hadn't taken the trash out since Sunday, as we really hadn't produced much during the week and the little bit we had, I didn't want to have to deal with picking up after the raccoons got into it. HOWEVER... what was in there was probably a few diapers and some dinner remains. I couldn't tell you for sure, though, because I grabbed the can and RAN to get it the hell out of my house.

When I came back to my absolute HORROR... as cliche as that it... I looked down only to see 50 more take the place of the ones I had just steamed over. And it occurred to me that I was gonna have to move the rug and do this one thing at a time. Remember the cliched use of the word HORROR? What can we go with that's worse and more intense? Choose your own adjective. Insert it now. That is how I felt when I lifted the rug to find at least a hundred more of those fuckers underneath. Again to my credit, I didn't yet have my break down. I just went and got the vacuum and alternated between vacuum and steam cleaner.

At some point I started crying, though I couldn't tell you exactly when. At some point I started drinking, though I couldn't tell you when that was either. After about an hour of going over the same area, one spot at a time, getting more and more of those nasty little things to crawl out... I went upstairs to my bedroom, flipped the light on and sobbed,

"Bill... they're everywhere. I keep cleaning and they keep popping up."

"What the hell are you talking about. Turn the light off!! I was asleep."

"The maggots, Bill. They're in the dining room carpet and they just keep coming out."

"I don't know what you are saying to me, but whatever it is, we'll deal with it tomorrow. Come to bed."

I am sure I must have looked like a chick straight out of a horror movie, mascara running down my face, standing there babbling about "Attack of the Maggots". I don't know how I did it, but I did what he asked, and I got into bed and went right to sleep.

The next morning, he got up and I bolted up with him, terrified as to what I would see when I went down stairs. It was as expected. There were maggots crawling on the dining room floor, as well as across the living room. Not as many as I had seen the night before... but enough to still make my skin crawl. I sat on the couch drinking coffee as Bill ran around with a paper towel, picking them up and putting them in a trash bag. There was no witty conversation.

I looked up online to see how rare this was. Turns out, it isn't rare at all. Here comes the Public Service Announcement: The way you kill maggots in your carpet is with boiling water and bleach. We called and flaked on my friends for Deep Creek, and I spent the entire rest of the day boiling water, pouring it on the carpet, watching those little assholes crawl up out of the heat and die, spraying the area with bleach water and then sucking it all up in the steam cleaner. 2 bottles of bleach and an entire lake of water later, I believe they are gone. Just to be sure though, I am going to treat the entire carpet with Borax tonight after the boys go to bed and vacuum it up in the morning. You can also use flea powder, but it don't like the chemicals and Borax is way less toxic.

I did finally breakdown about halfway through the day, BTW. It came when Bill absentmindedly set the trash bag he was using for maggot cleanup on my kitchen table. I don't think I've actually ever hyperventilated before, but I am pretty sure that I did then. He forced a beer on me and made me take a break outside. This has been a longer story than I wanted it to be. It also is not nearly as humorous as I would have liked. End result is that I feel violated. It almost feels like we got robbed, to tell you the truth. Also, new rule: We no longer have a kitchen trash in the house. New bag every time we need to throw a lot of things a way at the same time OR we just walk ourselves outside and through single items away. I am thinking about doing the same with the bathroom trash.

Tomorrow I'm going to arrange to get an estimate for new carpet. I'm still sitting here shuddering.

Paperwork

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.

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.

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.

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. :)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.