What do you think people thought of the first idiot who drank fermented potato juice, got hammered, and proceeded to piss in the town well?
I’m pretty sure they stopped thinking about him after they drove him out of town.
Alcohol is a curious thing. Before water became a socially and medically required drink, and prior to the popularity of tea, everyone drank beer. Beer beer beer. Or wine. Or mead. Or other drinks depending upon your geographic location…but the point is, everyone drank. Even children drank some (although now we find this appalling, it IS historical fact, so get over it).
It seems to me that the drinking world went to pot with the advent of the industrialized age and the popularity and ease of production of two things: gin and rum. Women sold their children for gin. Men signed up for two years ‘afore the mast for naught but the promise of a drop or two of grog a day.
Alcohol has been used to render people unconscious (see conscription, or possibly Shanghai’d) for somewhat dodgy maritime purposes, legal or otherwise. Alcohol has, I’m quite sure, been used throughout history to get girls too drunk to say no, or too drunk to realize what was going on. It was used extensively medically prior to the discoveries (if you will) of morphia and whatever that stuff is you inhale and was very popular during the Civil War and now they use on TV to knock people out? You know what I’m talking about. The name just…eludes me. It’s been used to seal a deal (toast a wedding), christen a ship, christen a child, celebrate a victory, celebrate an anniversary…Posh Spice even used champagne to celebrate the birth of her children, immediately following the blessed event.
We drink to make us funny, to relax, to make us “loosen up”, to make us more appealing to the opposite sex, or worst of all, because we want to.
People have asked me quite frequently why I don’t drink. I’ve given you a whole host of historical reasons, now I’ll give you the personal ones.
Nature v Nurture
First, my entire family is probably genetically predisposed toward alcohol dependency and (not to mince words, for those of the family that read) depression of several varieties. I noticed at an early age that at the first signs of stress, folks would reach for a drink. I’ve no problem with a drink to take the edge off; I have a problem with four. The problem with this particular double whammy is that one behavior ALWAYS leads to the other. Alcohol is a depressant; it messes with the serotonin in your brain. If you suffer from depression, you have a serotonin problem. Why would you deliberately imbibe something that makes you make LESS serotonin, and gets rid of what little you have? It doesn’t make sense to me. So you drink, you feel a bit better, and then when you come off your drinking high you feel ten times worse, and for days. Is that worth the price of a few moments of drunken euphoria? It isn’t for me.
My second issue is with how people act when they are drunk. The stupidest excuse I have ever heard for drunken behavior is “well, people say things when they are drunk that they really mean and wouldn’t say when they are sober”. Some people do, true, and some people go so off their heads you shouldn’t trust anything that comes out of their mouth, even if they tell you the sky is blue. I have heard some of the ugliest, most pointless, meaningless and hurtful diatribes issue from the mouths of people who were drunks, who didn’t even have the sense to be remorseful the next day…because they’d no idea what they said. Just because you are drinking doesn’t give you an excuse to emotionally tilt at someone else’s windmills. Shut your mouth, and go sleep it off. Or at least have the sense to apologize for whatever you said/did the night before. Other people tend to just become emotionally mean. I actually think of Britney telling her kids, when she’d been reportedly drinking, that they were a mistake. Thankfully, those kids aren’t old enough to comprehend her words, but….everyone else is. We’ve all had a sister or brother or spouse or cousin who has gotten drunk and proceeded to blame us for every sin under the sun. If you’ve been there, you know it sucks.
Lastly, I don’t care for what it does to my body. I can generally have A drink and be fine. A drink – glass of wine, pint of cider, a beer. More than that, and I’m likely to have a migraine. The last time I drank a bottle of wine, and I had eaten, and I drank plenty of water – I had a migraine, and threw up several times, and felt terrible for several days. It made me crankier than normal So what’s the point? Why do something that makes me feel horrid? It doesn’t make sex any better. It doesn’t make me any more socially confident, or friendlier. It does nothing. I’m always conscious of the price I pay.
Now you know.
20071002
Do you ever wonder if you are genetically predetermined to make the same "types" of mistakes your predecessors did?
I wish my paternal grandmother was still alive. I have this odd sense that I'm treading in her footsteps, and yet I don't even know where the steps go, and nor did she, I guess. Even I admit that I'm more like my maternal grandmother than anything, except I'm still haunted by this idea that Carol and I have some things in common that the others don't. Is it even remotely normal to be mad at someone who died in 1985? Nothing certainly was ever the same. Ah, the burdens of the living.
It bothers me so much because her death was (to me) so unexpected. Whereas with Granddaddy, I WANTED him to go. He wasn't any where close to the man I knew, and it killed me to see him in such a state. Death was a blessing. And I had closure, a hand in his release, if you will. You have no such luxury at twelve.
Lest ye all go running for your drugs, I'm not depressed or psychotic. Isn't a girl entitled to a little melancholy now and then?
I wish my paternal grandmother was still alive. I have this odd sense that I'm treading in her footsteps, and yet I don't even know where the steps go, and nor did she, I guess. Even I admit that I'm more like my maternal grandmother than anything, except I'm still haunted by this idea that Carol and I have some things in common that the others don't. Is it even remotely normal to be mad at someone who died in 1985? Nothing certainly was ever the same. Ah, the burdens of the living.
It bothers me so much because her death was (to me) so unexpected. Whereas with Granddaddy, I WANTED him to go. He wasn't any where close to the man I knew, and it killed me to see him in such a state. Death was a blessing. And I had closure, a hand in his release, if you will. You have no such luxury at twelve.
Lest ye all go running for your drugs, I'm not depressed or psychotic. Isn't a girl entitled to a little melancholy now and then?
Well, ladies, it seems we have been right all this time.
You know those fights you have with your partner that completely set your teeth on edge, where you bite your tongue because you are quite afraid of what would come out of your mouth, and you have a decided urge to hurl a piece of crockery at someone's head?
Turns out, all this is *gasp* quite bad for your heart. The NY Times (reprinted here because IE here at work is misbehaving and erroring out when the Blogger widgets load) states:
By TARA PARKER-POPE
Published: October 2, 2007
Arguing is an inevitable part of married life. But now researchers are putting the marital spat under the microscope to see if the way you fight with your spouse can affect your health.
Skip to next paragraph
Well
Tara Parker-Pope blogs daily about health.
Go to Well »
Recent studies show that how often couples fight or what they fight about usually doesn’t matter. Instead, it’s the nuanced interactions between men and women, and how they react to and resolve conflict, that appear to make a meaningful difference in the health of the marriage and the health of the couple.
A study of nearly 4,000 men and women from Framingham, Mass., asked whether they typically vented their feelings or kept quiet in arguments with their spouse. Notably, 32 percent of the men and 23 percent of the women said they typically bottled up their feelings during a marital spat.
In men, keeping quiet during a fight didn’t have any measurable effect on health. But women who didn’t speak their minds in those fights were four times as likely to die during the 10-year study period as women who always told their husbands how they felt, according to the July report in Psychosomatic Medicine. Whether the woman reported being in a happy marriage or an unhappy marriage didn’t change her risk.
The tendency to bottle up feelings during a fight is known as self-silencing. For men, it may simply be a calculated but harmless decision to keep the peace. But when women stay quiet, it takes a surprising physical toll.
“When you’re suppressing communication and feelings during conflict with your husband, it’s doing something very negative to your physiology, and in the long term it will affect your health,” said Elaine Eaker, an epidemiologist in Gaithersburg, Md., who was the study’s lead author. “This doesn’t mean women should start throwing plates at their husbands, but there needs to be a safe environment where both spouses can equally communicate.”
Other studies led by Dana Crowley Jack, a professor of interdisciplinary studies at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Wash., have linked the self-silencing trait to numerous psychological and physical health risks, including depression, eating disorders and heart disease.
Keeping quiet during a fight with a spouse is something “we all have to do sometimes,” Dr. Jack said. “But we worry about the people who do it in a more extreme fashion.”
The emotional tone that men and women take during arguments with a spouse can also take a toll on their health. Utah researchers have videotaped 150 couples to measure the effect that marital arguing style has on heart risk. The men and women were mostly in their 60s, had been married on average for more than 30 years and had no signs of heart disease. The couples were given stressful topics to discuss, like money or household chores, and the comments made during the ensuing arguments were categorized as warm, hostile, controlling or submissive. The men and women also underwent heart scans to measure coronary artery calcium, an indicator of heart disease risk.
The researchers found that the style of argument detected in the video sessions was a powerful predictor for a man or woman’s risk for underlying heart disease. In fact, the way the couple interacted was as important a heart risk factor as whether they smoked or had high cholesterol, says Timothy W. Smith, a psychology professor at the University of Utah, who presented the study last year to the American Psychosomatic Society.
For women, whether a husband’s arguing style was warm or hostile had the biggest effect on her heart health. Dr. Smith notes that in a fight about money, for instance, one man said, “Did you pass elementary school math?” But another said, “Bless you, you are not so good with the checkbook, but you’re good at other things.” In both exchanges, the husband was criticizing his wife’s money management skills, but the second comment was infused with a level of warmth. In the study, a warm style of arguing by either spouse lowered the wife’s risk of heart disease.
But arguing style affected men and women differently. The level of warmth or hostility had no effect on a man’s heart health. For a man, heart risk increased if disagreements with his wife involved a battle for control. And it didn’t matter whether he or his wife was the one making the controlling comments. An example of a controlling argument style showed up in one video of a man arguing with his wife about money. “You really should just listen to me on this,” he told her.
What’s particularly notable about the study is that the men and women filled out standard questionnaires about the quality of their relationships, but those answers were not a good predictor of cardiovascular risk. The difference in risk showed up only when the quality of the couple’s bickering style was assessed.
“Disagreements in a marriage are inevitable, but it’s how you conduct yourself,” Dr. Smith said. “Can you do it in a way that gets your concerns addressed, but without doing damage at the same time? That’s not an easy mark to hit for some couples.”
************************
So, ladies, express yourself. Yell, scream, cry. I try so hard NOT to lose my composure that I give myself headaches, grind my teeth, and cry...when honestly I'd rather throw something, or go for a run, or scream.
Just don't toss any crockery!
You know those fights you have with your partner that completely set your teeth on edge, where you bite your tongue because you are quite afraid of what would come out of your mouth, and you have a decided urge to hurl a piece of crockery at someone's head?
Turns out, all this is *gasp* quite bad for your heart. The NY Times (reprinted here because IE here at work is misbehaving and erroring out when the Blogger widgets load) states:
By TARA PARKER-POPE
Published: October 2, 2007
Arguing is an inevitable part of married life. But now researchers are putting the marital spat under the microscope to see if the way you fight with your spouse can affect your health.
Skip to next paragraph
Well
Tara Parker-Pope blogs daily about health.
Go to Well »
Recent studies show that how often couples fight or what they fight about usually doesn’t matter. Instead, it’s the nuanced interactions between men and women, and how they react to and resolve conflict, that appear to make a meaningful difference in the health of the marriage and the health of the couple.
A study of nearly 4,000 men and women from Framingham, Mass., asked whether they typically vented their feelings or kept quiet in arguments with their spouse. Notably, 32 percent of the men and 23 percent of the women said they typically bottled up their feelings during a marital spat.
In men, keeping quiet during a fight didn’t have any measurable effect on health. But women who didn’t speak their minds in those fights were four times as likely to die during the 10-year study period as women who always told their husbands how they felt, according to the July report in Psychosomatic Medicine. Whether the woman reported being in a happy marriage or an unhappy marriage didn’t change her risk.
The tendency to bottle up feelings during a fight is known as self-silencing. For men, it may simply be a calculated but harmless decision to keep the peace. But when women stay quiet, it takes a surprising physical toll.
“When you’re suppressing communication and feelings during conflict with your husband, it’s doing something very negative to your physiology, and in the long term it will affect your health,” said Elaine Eaker, an epidemiologist in Gaithersburg, Md., who was the study’s lead author. “This doesn’t mean women should start throwing plates at their husbands, but there needs to be a safe environment where both spouses can equally communicate.”
Other studies led by Dana Crowley Jack, a professor of interdisciplinary studies at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Wash., have linked the self-silencing trait to numerous psychological and physical health risks, including depression, eating disorders and heart disease.
Keeping quiet during a fight with a spouse is something “we all have to do sometimes,” Dr. Jack said. “But we worry about the people who do it in a more extreme fashion.”
The emotional tone that men and women take during arguments with a spouse can also take a toll on their health. Utah researchers have videotaped 150 couples to measure the effect that marital arguing style has on heart risk. The men and women were mostly in their 60s, had been married on average for more than 30 years and had no signs of heart disease. The couples were given stressful topics to discuss, like money or household chores, and the comments made during the ensuing arguments were categorized as warm, hostile, controlling or submissive. The men and women also underwent heart scans to measure coronary artery calcium, an indicator of heart disease risk.
The researchers found that the style of argument detected in the video sessions was a powerful predictor for a man or woman’s risk for underlying heart disease. In fact, the way the couple interacted was as important a heart risk factor as whether they smoked or had high cholesterol, says Timothy W. Smith, a psychology professor at the University of Utah, who presented the study last year to the American Psychosomatic Society.
For women, whether a husband’s arguing style was warm or hostile had the biggest effect on her heart health. Dr. Smith notes that in a fight about money, for instance, one man said, “Did you pass elementary school math?” But another said, “Bless you, you are not so good with the checkbook, but you’re good at other things.” In both exchanges, the husband was criticizing his wife’s money management skills, but the second comment was infused with a level of warmth. In the study, a warm style of arguing by either spouse lowered the wife’s risk of heart disease.
But arguing style affected men and women differently. The level of warmth or hostility had no effect on a man’s heart health. For a man, heart risk increased if disagreements with his wife involved a battle for control. And it didn’t matter whether he or his wife was the one making the controlling comments. An example of a controlling argument style showed up in one video of a man arguing with his wife about money. “You really should just listen to me on this,” he told her.
What’s particularly notable about the study is that the men and women filled out standard questionnaires about the quality of their relationships, but those answers were not a good predictor of cardiovascular risk. The difference in risk showed up only when the quality of the couple’s bickering style was assessed.
“Disagreements in a marriage are inevitable, but it’s how you conduct yourself,” Dr. Smith said. “Can you do it in a way that gets your concerns addressed, but without doing damage at the same time? That’s not an easy mark to hit for some couples.”
************************
So, ladies, express yourself. Yell, scream, cry. I try so hard NOT to lose my composure that I give myself headaches, grind my teeth, and cry...when honestly I'd rather throw something, or go for a run, or scream.
Just don't toss any crockery!
20071001
I'm Not That Innocent
Really?
Could have fooled me.
Better for Britney's "mistakes" that they go live with their father, who by all accounts is an actual parent.
Memo to Britney: Stop with the nose candy, close your legs, put on some clothes, figure out who you are, and remember that you are now a parent (it isn't all about you anymore).
Could have fooled me.
Better for Britney's "mistakes" that they go live with their father, who by all accounts is an actual parent.
Memo to Britney: Stop with the nose candy, close your legs, put on some clothes, figure out who you are, and remember that you are now a parent (it isn't all about you anymore).
Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner
Remember the movie "Dirty Dancing" when Patrick and Jennifer are discussing dancing and the concept of personal space? Arms and eyes lock, they dance and dance quite intimately, but do not intrude upon the others personal space.
This is, I think, a lost art in modern society. Think about it. You are out having a nice dinner, and someone bumps into you. How often do you hear an apology? You are out shopping, and you bump into someone; do you offer an apology? You are walking in the park and you pass a gaggle (gaggle: three or more fat people who insist on walking abreast and hogging the whole trail)...they don't move as, you know, they can simply bowl you over, and force you to step aside. Whatever happened to politeness? Stepping aside? Walking single file when being passed?
I think we've lost our concept of personal space not only in the public space but in the private space too. I look at the relationships in my family, that of my grandparents and that of my parents, and I see marked differences between what they do and what my peers are expected to do. It isn't necessary for my father to know where my mother is, or my mother to know what my father is thinking at all times. My parents both know people individually that the other person doesn't know. If one person or the other needs alone time, they get it - they go for a ride, for a walk, to the store, or sit on the back porch and read a book. Even with my grandparents - granddaddy was always quite happy to putter around in the garage while grandmother did...whatever inside the house.
In fact, she told me a little story that I think fits in well with today's blog. My grandfather used to like to sit next to grandmom on the couch and...well, snuggle is the wrong word, I think pet might be closer. He'd like to sit next to her at night, while they were watching the news or PBS and want to pet her somehow. The worst, she says, was rubbing her feet. She does not like to have her feet rubbed. She has never liked to have her feet rubbed. She had told him so on numerous occasions. So one night she simply told him that this was her relaxing time, and that she was not relaxed, and that he should stop. They spent the rest of their married life happily watching television in two separate chairs. The moral of the story? He thought that he was doing something nice for her, and she thought he was doing something annoying. One man's trash is another man's treasure.
I think that modern relationships create, for better or for worse, an aura of dependence upon the other person. I think our lovely little media fosters this image as well. It certainly is everywhere...I mean, what sells? Sex, right? And you can't have actual sex without a partner, right? So....hm. And what does the media think that men find appealing in women? Certainly not a woman who can take or leave a man, who is independent, who can take care of herself. Nope. We call those women bitches. Nah, it seems that the media likes to encourage women to be freaking ditzes, helpless little I can't tie my shoe without some help Lohiltonites. Why?
Lohiltonites are completely transparent. They haven't a thought or emotion that doesn't immediately pop out of their mouth like the worst sort of verbal diarrhea. They have no reserve, no measure of privacy. Their entire life is a game of Truth or Dare. They are post modern Barbie Tarts, meant to be dressed up and shown off and fucked until they reach their expiration date, and then tossed aside. They are meant to be compliant little pieces of barely emotive combinations of carbon and water that somehow manage to toddle along on two legs.
And this is what little girls have to look up to?
I was on about space, right? Personal space? It's a lost art. I like to be alone. It's good for me. It allows me to decompress and unwind. Some people have a drink, some people go for a run, some people smoke, some people paint. I like to be by myself. I might clean my house from top to bottom, or have a glass of wine and a bubble bath, or read a trashy romance novel. The point is - there is no one there to have a demand upon my attention. And I don't feel the NEED to have someone there 24/7 either. I don't need another person to Validate Me.
That's what I think we've come to. We look to our partner in our relationship to Validate Us as a Human Being. Someone Loves Me So I Must Be Ok. And yet love is so complex and so ever changing and so very brilliant in it's uniqueness...how can you pin it down to one point in time?
This is, I think, a lost art in modern society. Think about it. You are out having a nice dinner, and someone bumps into you. How often do you hear an apology? You are out shopping, and you bump into someone; do you offer an apology? You are walking in the park and you pass a gaggle (gaggle: three or more fat people who insist on walking abreast and hogging the whole trail)...they don't move as, you know, they can simply bowl you over, and force you to step aside. Whatever happened to politeness? Stepping aside? Walking single file when being passed?
I think we've lost our concept of personal space not only in the public space but in the private space too. I look at the relationships in my family, that of my grandparents and that of my parents, and I see marked differences between what they do and what my peers are expected to do. It isn't necessary for my father to know where my mother is, or my mother to know what my father is thinking at all times. My parents both know people individually that the other person doesn't know. If one person or the other needs alone time, they get it - they go for a ride, for a walk, to the store, or sit on the back porch and read a book. Even with my grandparents - granddaddy was always quite happy to putter around in the garage while grandmother did...whatever inside the house.
In fact, she told me a little story that I think fits in well with today's blog. My grandfather used to like to sit next to grandmom on the couch and...well, snuggle is the wrong word, I think pet might be closer. He'd like to sit next to her at night, while they were watching the news or PBS and want to pet her somehow. The worst, she says, was rubbing her feet. She does not like to have her feet rubbed. She has never liked to have her feet rubbed. She had told him so on numerous occasions. So one night she simply told him that this was her relaxing time, and that she was not relaxed, and that he should stop. They spent the rest of their married life happily watching television in two separate chairs. The moral of the story? He thought that he was doing something nice for her, and she thought he was doing something annoying. One man's trash is another man's treasure.
I think that modern relationships create, for better or for worse, an aura of dependence upon the other person. I think our lovely little media fosters this image as well. It certainly is everywhere...I mean, what sells? Sex, right? And you can't have actual sex without a partner, right? So....hm. And what does the media think that men find appealing in women? Certainly not a woman who can take or leave a man, who is independent, who can take care of herself. Nope. We call those women bitches. Nah, it seems that the media likes to encourage women to be freaking ditzes, helpless little I can't tie my shoe without some help Lohiltonites. Why?
Lohiltonites are completely transparent. They haven't a thought or emotion that doesn't immediately pop out of their mouth like the worst sort of verbal diarrhea. They have no reserve, no measure of privacy. Their entire life is a game of Truth or Dare. They are post modern Barbie Tarts, meant to be dressed up and shown off and fucked until they reach their expiration date, and then tossed aside. They are meant to be compliant little pieces of barely emotive combinations of carbon and water that somehow manage to toddle along on two legs.
And this is what little girls have to look up to?
I was on about space, right? Personal space? It's a lost art. I like to be alone. It's good for me. It allows me to decompress and unwind. Some people have a drink, some people go for a run, some people smoke, some people paint. I like to be by myself. I might clean my house from top to bottom, or have a glass of wine and a bubble bath, or read a trashy romance novel. The point is - there is no one there to have a demand upon my attention. And I don't feel the NEED to have someone there 24/7 either. I don't need another person to Validate Me.
That's what I think we've come to. We look to our partner in our relationship to Validate Us as a Human Being. Someone Loves Me So I Must Be Ok. And yet love is so complex and so ever changing and so very brilliant in it's uniqueness...how can you pin it down to one point in time?
Water
Dear Alabama and Florida:
We are very sorry that there is no water in the Chattahoochee for you by the time it finally reaches your borders. Did we fail to mention that most of the river resides in our state? Maybe you should start looking into desalinization plants? And Florida...do retirees really need to drink water anyway? Can't they drink orange juice instead? Just a thought.
Love,
The State of Georgia, your Imperialist Neighbor
********************************************************
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to determine that completely unrestricted growth, a lack of available water (all lakes in GA, btw, are man made), a hundred year weather pattern of decreasing rainfall year over year means that you have less and less water to draw from.
Build more houses. Build more office spaces with ponds and lakes. Allow beautiful professional landscaping to be built that requires daily watering. Fail to fine people (yes, City of Alpharetta, I'm talking to you about that stretch of Old Alabama Connector where the businesses on both sides of the road water the ROAD every morning) who usage of sprinklers is improper. Don't get me started on the gradual de-forestation of our state. Or the dwindling presence of groundwater. Or the greed of politicians and corporations who sell entire forests of trees to paper rapers, who then fail to replant or replant with sub standard trees. You know trees attract moisture, right? Just checking.
We are very sorry that there is no water in the Chattahoochee for you by the time it finally reaches your borders. Did we fail to mention that most of the river resides in our state? Maybe you should start looking into desalinization plants? And Florida...do retirees really need to drink water anyway? Can't they drink orange juice instead? Just a thought.
Love,
The State of Georgia, your Imperialist Neighbor
********************************************************
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to determine that completely unrestricted growth, a lack of available water (all lakes in GA, btw, are man made), a hundred year weather pattern of decreasing rainfall year over year means that you have less and less water to draw from.
Build more houses. Build more office spaces with ponds and lakes. Allow beautiful professional landscaping to be built that requires daily watering. Fail to fine people (yes, City of Alpharetta, I'm talking to you about that stretch of Old Alabama Connector where the businesses on both sides of the road water the ROAD every morning) who usage of sprinklers is improper. Don't get me started on the gradual de-forestation of our state. Or the dwindling presence of groundwater. Or the greed of politicians and corporations who sell entire forests of trees to paper rapers, who then fail to replant or replant with sub standard trees. You know trees attract moisture, right? Just checking.
20070928
It seems to me that people have varying degrees of a need for passion in their lives. No, I don’t mean sex – physical passion – I mean the desire for the ups and downs of emotional life. Some people really seem to enjoy being in situations where they can poke and prod their partners and be treated in kind, and to revel in the emotional upheaval that ensues. Other people are more remote, and treat passion as a necessary stop on a long drive – like a potty break on a road trip – something you do once in a while to refresh yourself, but not a place you stop and stay.
The X was a man of constant public passion. He was never happy unless he was in the middle of some kind of self created turmoil, the center of all attention, nailed on a self imposed angst ridden cross. Trust me when I say that that level of maintenance has a high price indeed. If I look at him dispassionately, I can tell you that his constant focus on passion leaves him unable to focus on anything else in his life. It became exhausting to participate in his roller coaster; after a while one just pulls the emergency brake and gets off the ride.
There are quiet, passionate people. Those who are so unassuming that you know nothing of their lives other than their public façade, until the day you see or hear that one spouse has killed the other, or a mother has slain her children and then herself. There are people who abandon their entire lives and careers and move across the world to feed indigent people in the Sudan.
And there are people who have no control over their passions. People whose every waking moment and though is consumed with whatever they are focused on for the moment. You know, like those nutty people who go ga over the newest online multi player game, and stalk Ebay auctions looking for virtual real estate to build their empire? You know who I talking about. Like the couple who recently made the news – their children were forcibly removed from their home and the parents charged with abuse. The children were starving and living in squalor, while the parents had state of the art technology and were playing some online role playing game.
Again, passion gone awry.
Where do you fall? Who are you?
The X was a man of constant public passion. He was never happy unless he was in the middle of some kind of self created turmoil, the center of all attention, nailed on a self imposed angst ridden cross. Trust me when I say that that level of maintenance has a high price indeed. If I look at him dispassionately, I can tell you that his constant focus on passion leaves him unable to focus on anything else in his life. It became exhausting to participate in his roller coaster; after a while one just pulls the emergency brake and gets off the ride.
There are quiet, passionate people. Those who are so unassuming that you know nothing of their lives other than their public façade, until the day you see or hear that one spouse has killed the other, or a mother has slain her children and then herself. There are people who abandon their entire lives and careers and move across the world to feed indigent people in the Sudan.
And there are people who have no control over their passions. People whose every waking moment and though is consumed with whatever they are focused on for the moment. You know, like those nutty people who go ga over the newest online multi player game, and stalk Ebay auctions looking for virtual real estate to build their empire? You know who I talking about. Like the couple who recently made the news – their children were forcibly removed from their home and the parents charged with abuse. The children were starving and living in squalor, while the parents had state of the art technology and were playing some online role playing game.
Again, passion gone awry.
Where do you fall? Who are you?
20070925
My Momma Done Tole Me
If you can't say anything nice, keep your mouth shut.
You catch more flies with honey, not vinegar (thanks, grandmom).
Some things are better left unsaid (yes, your ass does look fat in those pants).
People in glass houses should not throw fuschia pots.
Every cloud has a lining. Whether or not it's silver is a matter of interpretation.
Wash everything in cold. Except towels, which ye shall wash in hot, lest they smell.
Put lemon in your hair to lighten it in the summer.
Always pick up a penny. Who cares what side it's on? You are still one penny richer!
Once in a while, do something random. Pay someone else's toll. Tip your server 40%. Pay a stranger's tab. Drop $20 in the Salvation Army bucket at Xmas time.
You catch more flies with honey, not vinegar (thanks, grandmom).
Some things are better left unsaid (yes, your ass does look fat in those pants).
People in glass houses should not throw fuschia pots.
Every cloud has a lining. Whether or not it's silver is a matter of interpretation.
Wash everything in cold. Except towels, which ye shall wash in hot, lest they smell.
Put lemon in your hair to lighten it in the summer.
Always pick up a penny. Who cares what side it's on? You are still one penny richer!
Once in a while, do something random. Pay someone else's toll. Tip your server 40%. Pay a stranger's tab. Drop $20 in the Salvation Army bucket at Xmas time.
Feminist Bullshit
So here's what I believe:
1. Men and women are equal, and should be equal partners in all things.
2. Men should learn to do their fair share of housework. I don't think that the Justice League has a super talent called "Ignorus Dirtus".
3. Women enjoy sex just as much as men, although perhaps not as often.
4. Men and women have obligations to each other and to society - to do the right thing.
1. Men and women are equal, and should be equal partners in all things.
2. Men should learn to do their fair share of housework. I don't think that the Justice League has a super talent called "Ignorus Dirtus".
3. Women enjoy sex just as much as men, although perhaps not as often.
4. Men and women have obligations to each other and to society - to do the right thing.
Ever have days where you feel like the biggest tool on the planet? Like you've let yourself be agitated into doing something stupid, and it matters to no one but you (because you are the only one who has to pay the price)? Icky.
It seems that despite my best intentions life will never run smoothly.
In talking to Miss Molls, I was struck with a moment of envy. She is so happy with her life, her husband, and their path to love and to marriage was so simple...that...well, I don't know what to do.
I am one of those people, I think, for whom nothing comes easily if it comes at all. Please believe me when I say it's not of my own chosing. If I could suddenly zap parts of my brain and heart and make myself into a lesser being, there a days/moments/seconds where I would gladly trade all the complexity that I am for a much simpler being.
It seems that despite my best intentions life will never run smoothly.
In talking to Miss Molls, I was struck with a moment of envy. She is so happy with her life, her husband, and their path to love and to marriage was so simple...that...well, I don't know what to do.
I am one of those people, I think, for whom nothing comes easily if it comes at all. Please believe me when I say it's not of my own chosing. If I could suddenly zap parts of my brain and heart and make myself into a lesser being, there a days/moments/seconds where I would gladly trade all the complexity that I am for a much simpler being.
20070924
Monday Madness
Just because I love you all, go and dig this site....
The captions are as funny as the dresses....
http://www.visi.com/~dheaton/bride/the_bride_wore.html
In fact, this might be my favorite (Called Mars Attacks)...can you believe women actually pay money to look this bad? Ok...my laptop is bad. IE is bad.
Go and look for the Mars Attacks Dress...freaking hysterical.
The captions are as funny as the dresses....
http://www.visi.com/~dheaton/bride/the_bride_wore.html
In fact, this might be my favorite (Called Mars Attacks)...can you believe women actually pay money to look this bad? Ok...my laptop is bad. IE is bad.
Go and look for the Mars Attacks Dress...freaking hysterical.
20070923
Remember when the music/came from wooden boxes hung with silver wire....
Nostalgia.
The desire or ability to live joyfully in one's past.
My father wrote a song for me when I was a little girl....
"Little girl you look a mess/you've gotten/jelly stains upon your dress/and peanut butter in your hair/defying laughing standing there"
It goes on, but you get the idea.
There's nothing out there like the love of a parent for a child. Treasure it while you have it.
Nostalgia.
The desire or ability to live joyfully in one's past.
My father wrote a song for me when I was a little girl....
"Little girl you look a mess/you've gotten/jelly stains upon your dress/and peanut butter in your hair/defying laughing standing there"
It goes on, but you get the idea.
There's nothing out there like the love of a parent for a child. Treasure it while you have it.
20070921
Granddaddy
"Louis Millard Wood, Sr., age 81, of Marietta, died February 7, 2007. Louis was a native of Atlanta and graduated from Russell High School, as well as Georgia State University. He served in the US Army during WWII. Louis retired from the US Department of Labor, Wage and Hour. He is survived by his wife, Ethel Ragan Wood; children, Louis Millard Wood, Jr., of Sandy Springs, Susan Chaffin of Charlotte, NC, Christopher Ragan Wood of Marietta, and Nancy Sparks of St. Augustine, FL; eight grandchildren." (AJC)
Granddaddy is in the backpack; on his way to his final resting place.
Granddaddy is in the backpack; on his way to his final resting place.
The dunes (that didn't really exist in my childhood) in front of the beach house we used to rent.
Last photo before Mr. Manners kindly turned the camera off, as I de-shoed myself and walked out into the ocean to scatter his ashes.
Last photo before Mr. Manners kindly turned the camera off, as I de-shoed myself and walked out into the ocean to scatter his ashes. Dear God,
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I die before I wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
God bless everyone everywhere
And thank you for all the gifts you've given me
My friends and my family.
Amen.
20070920
Ever have those weeks where you are just off? That is just this week for me. I'm just off. I've had a low grade migraine since Monday afternoon that I just can't shake. I realized that when I did my great Charity Clothing and Shoe purge I gave away all my dress shoes except one pair, forcing me to purchase another. My face is still dry as all get out, although no longer swollen. I am sooo tired. Maybe I need iron. I'm falling asleep at my desk! Am now eating a cracker from last week.
I did see my dog dog last night....
I did see my dog dog last night....
20070917
There are some things that are just rude.
My across the cul de sac neighbors are teenage boys, and of driving age, with friends who have no manners. Said friends like to show up after school to pick up said neighbors, and rather than park their mother's mini van and go and knock on the door, they like to sit in the cul de sac and honk repeatedly.
I, princess of manners that I am, while taking out the trash today decided enough was enough and yelled at the hooligans "dude, lay off the freaking horn and go knock on the door!"
Imagine my surprise when said hooligans did pull into the driveway and DID go knock on the door.
Will wonders never cease.
My across the cul de sac neighbors are teenage boys, and of driving age, with friends who have no manners. Said friends like to show up after school to pick up said neighbors, and rather than park their mother's mini van and go and knock on the door, they like to sit in the cul de sac and honk repeatedly.
I, princess of manners that I am, while taking out the trash today decided enough was enough and yelled at the hooligans "dude, lay off the freaking horn and go knock on the door!"
Imagine my surprise when said hooligans did pull into the driveway and DID go knock on the door.
Will wonders never cease.
Do forgive me, for I find this terribly amusing:
Warnings on the back of an over the counter medicine:
Uses: For temporary relief of external anal and genital itching.
Do Not Use: in the genital area if you have vaginal discharge. Consult a doctor.
Do Not Put: directly into the rectum by using fingers or any mechanical device or applicator.
Stop Using if: Rectal Bleeding Occurs.
Uh....mechanical device? WTF are people DOING to themselves these days?
I was laughing hysterically while standing in line reading the warning label.
I'm not sure anyone else will get the joke.
Warnings on the back of an over the counter medicine:
Uses: For temporary relief of external anal and genital itching.
Do Not Use: in the genital area if you have vaginal discharge. Consult a doctor.
Do Not Put: directly into the rectum by using fingers or any mechanical device or applicator.
Stop Using if: Rectal Bleeding Occurs.
Uh....mechanical device? WTF are people DOING to themselves these days?
I was laughing hysterically while standing in line reading the warning label.
I'm not sure anyone else will get the joke.
Vanity
Thy name is Eliza
So I went to the dermatologist last week because my skin has regressed to a state not seen since I was about twelve and just beginning menarche. Left quite happy with some samples – benzaclyn for morning use, and differin for evening use. Wednesday morning, after differin use – skin was nice and even and not blotchy and all and all quite happy. Thursday morning benzaclyn use…burned. Friday morning, burned, and moisturizer burned, and skin started to turn red. Did not use any differin that night, nor did I use anything on Saturday morning but my face decided that it was tomato season, and that I should swell up, turn bright red, and look like someone punched me in the face – in both eyes! Lotion hurt, water hurt, soap hurt, crying hurt. My fingers were swollen, my neck was red and swollen…the works. Out of sheer desperation, went to Walgreen’s to talk to the pharmacist, who looked at me and said “allergic reaction. Throw it away. Take lots of benadryl”. Which helped (and a solpo to deaden my face…my last one!!!). I managed to just sleep through most of Saturday. Sunday rolls around and while the swelling is almost gone, I still look like a tomato, albeit a scaly one. A VERY VERY scaly one…a cross between a snake and a tomato during molting season in high summer, in fact. Not great. I can was my face with apricot scrub, and can put on Lubriderm only. That’s it. I touch my face and I snow skin. It’s gross. It’s like I just burnt off the top ten layers of skin. Now I know what I will look like in ten years with too much sun. Scary!
Called the dermatologist this morning – soooo not happy. Waiting for a call back.
Here is what WebMD has to say about the side effects: “Dry skin, redness, burning, itching or skin peeling may occur. If any of these effects persist or worsen, notify your doctor or pharmacist promptly.” Really? Really? ????? Please note that it does not say that you will resemble a giant fruit, or a big fat red snake that has just eaten a small baby.
Have just spoken to them now, in fact. “Stop using it immediately” Honey? I got news for you… it is already in the trash. They are trying to decide if I should come in tomorrow or not, and how much damage has been done. Great. Just great. This is the one time in my life I wish that a burqua was an acceptable fashion accessory. I’d like to stick my hand in the sand and not come out until this heals up.
Otherwise; weekend…ugh. Went to a place called Monkey Joe’s for a birthday party for two young ‘uns on Sunday. Ever have those moments where you realize that you just don’t belong somewhere? So I’m standing there, surrounded by doting moms and a few dads, looking at adorable little children running around in their little sock’ed feet, bouncing on big inflatable air toys (slides, bouncy thingies….), and I realize, in looking at my peers, that I will NEVER EVER be like any of those women. First, I think having a big birthday party for a bunch of little kids is kind of silly. Is there a child under six who remembers a birthday party ever? I might have had one, but if I did, I don’t remember having one at all (ever, in fact). I guess I’m too practical….I’d rather be socking that money away into a college fund and having a quiet family birthday at home. Secondly, in looking at the other women…ugh. Blond, well coiffed, largely perfect, well dressed, new Coach or D&B or Prada bags, nice tidy manicures and pedicures. All slender, with nice hair, and bleached teeth, yammering on and on about private day care or private school or their volunteer groups or whatever. I can’t even make myself talk to them. I can’t even force myself to be that kind of person. I can’t. Something tells me that none of the women I met yesterday have the same dark, brooding side that I do. I could try, of course, as I’ve done before, but that ends up becoming a spiral of misery that is hard to escape from, and completely perpetual.
Anyway, that’s my ramble.
So I went to the dermatologist last week because my skin has regressed to a state not seen since I was about twelve and just beginning menarche. Left quite happy with some samples – benzaclyn for morning use, and differin for evening use. Wednesday morning, after differin use – skin was nice and even and not blotchy and all and all quite happy. Thursday morning benzaclyn use…burned. Friday morning, burned, and moisturizer burned, and skin started to turn red. Did not use any differin that night, nor did I use anything on Saturday morning but my face decided that it was tomato season, and that I should swell up, turn bright red, and look like someone punched me in the face – in both eyes! Lotion hurt, water hurt, soap hurt, crying hurt. My fingers were swollen, my neck was red and swollen…the works. Out of sheer desperation, went to Walgreen’s to talk to the pharmacist, who looked at me and said “allergic reaction. Throw it away. Take lots of benadryl”. Which helped (and a solpo to deaden my face…my last one!!!). I managed to just sleep through most of Saturday. Sunday rolls around and while the swelling is almost gone, I still look like a tomato, albeit a scaly one. A VERY VERY scaly one…a cross between a snake and a tomato during molting season in high summer, in fact. Not great. I can was my face with apricot scrub, and can put on Lubriderm only. That’s it. I touch my face and I snow skin. It’s gross. It’s like I just burnt off the top ten layers of skin. Now I know what I will look like in ten years with too much sun. Scary!
Called the dermatologist this morning – soooo not happy. Waiting for a call back.
Here is what WebMD has to say about the side effects: “Dry skin, redness, burning, itching or skin peeling may occur. If any of these effects persist or worsen, notify your doctor or pharmacist promptly.” Really? Really? ????? Please note that it does not say that you will resemble a giant fruit, or a big fat red snake that has just eaten a small baby.
Have just spoken to them now, in fact. “Stop using it immediately” Honey? I got news for you… it is already in the trash. They are trying to decide if I should come in tomorrow or not, and how much damage has been done. Great. Just great. This is the one time in my life I wish that a burqua was an acceptable fashion accessory. I’d like to stick my hand in the sand and not come out until this heals up.
Otherwise; weekend…ugh. Went to a place called Monkey Joe’s for a birthday party for two young ‘uns on Sunday. Ever have those moments where you realize that you just don’t belong somewhere? So I’m standing there, surrounded by doting moms and a few dads, looking at adorable little children running around in their little sock’ed feet, bouncing on big inflatable air toys (slides, bouncy thingies….), and I realize, in looking at my peers, that I will NEVER EVER be like any of those women. First, I think having a big birthday party for a bunch of little kids is kind of silly. Is there a child under six who remembers a birthday party ever? I might have had one, but if I did, I don’t remember having one at all (ever, in fact). I guess I’m too practical….I’d rather be socking that money away into a college fund and having a quiet family birthday at home. Secondly, in looking at the other women…ugh. Blond, well coiffed, largely perfect, well dressed, new Coach or D&B or Prada bags, nice tidy manicures and pedicures. All slender, with nice hair, and bleached teeth, yammering on and on about private day care or private school or their volunteer groups or whatever. I can’t even make myself talk to them. I can’t even force myself to be that kind of person. I can’t. Something tells me that none of the women I met yesterday have the same dark, brooding side that I do. I could try, of course, as I’ve done before, but that ends up becoming a spiral of misery that is hard to escape from, and completely perpetual.
Anyway, that’s my ramble.
20070914
I can't believe in all the investigative discussions surrounding Madeline McCann the one detail people have found to focus on is this, and this is a quote, and I'm not telling you where it came from because I find it so....incredibly lacking in intelligence and moral fiber that to reveal the identity of the speaker would just give all of us normal folk a new target of lesser intelligence to mock.
"Conceiving a child though IVF is a sin. Madeline's disappearance is God's punishment."
What the fuck?
Get lost, idiot, and go grow a brain.
"Conceiving a child though IVF is a sin. Madeline's disappearance is God's punishment."
What the fuck?
Get lost, idiot, and go grow a brain.
I am SOOOO TGIF!!!!!
Let's see....
Last night, as I'm eating my boiled potatos with cheese, I hear this slight thunk come from the kitchen. Honestly? I thought it was the dishwasher until I turn around and notice the absence of one small black dog. Make trip to kitchen...small black dog delicately curled up on floor, paws firmly holding tub of butter, that she is gently licking for all she's worth. New tub of Kerrygold!!! Bad Zoe, no Biscuit! Please notice that the Madster was sitting at my feet and ignoring the butter. Maddy got a biscuit.
This morning they've both discovered something great and nasty smelling in the back garden that they've proceeded to wallow in at great length, much to my nose's dismay. Dogs!
Downstairs is going tudor. I'm ditching the lime green in favor of dark brown and cream. Will look fabu.
Let's see....
Last night, as I'm eating my boiled potatos with cheese, I hear this slight thunk come from the kitchen. Honestly? I thought it was the dishwasher until I turn around and notice the absence of one small black dog. Make trip to kitchen...small black dog delicately curled up on floor, paws firmly holding tub of butter, that she is gently licking for all she's worth. New tub of Kerrygold!!! Bad Zoe, no Biscuit! Please notice that the Madster was sitting at my feet and ignoring the butter. Maddy got a biscuit.
This morning they've both discovered something great and nasty smelling in the back garden that they've proceeded to wallow in at great length, much to my nose's dismay. Dogs!
Downstairs is going tudor. I'm ditching the lime green in favor of dark brown and cream. Will look fabu.
20070913
Once in a while, when someone knows you are having a bad day, they send you something that makes you giggle:
Subject: Why women should not take their husbands shopping
This is why women should not take men shopping against their will....
After Mr. and Mrs. Fenton retired, Mrs. Fenton insisted her husband accompany her on her trips to Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, Mr. Fenton was like most men -- he found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out.
Equally unfortunately, Mrs. Fenton was like most women -- she loved to browse.
One day Mrs. Fenton received the following letter from her local Wal-Mart.
"Dear Mrs. Fenton,
Over the past six months, your husband has been causing quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and may be forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against Mr. Fenton are listed below a nd are documented by our video surveillance cameras.
1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they weren't looking.
2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5 minute intervals.
3. July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, "Code 3 in Housewares - get on it right away."
5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&M's on layaway.
6. September 14: Moved a "CAUTION - WET FLOOR" sign to a carpeted area.
7. September 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department.
8. September 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"
9. October 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
10. November 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.
11. December 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.
12. December 6: In the auto department, he practiced his "Madonna look" by using different sizes of funnels.
13. December 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled "PICK ME! PICK ME!"
14. December 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed "OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!"
And last, but not least,
15. December 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, "Hey! There's no toilet paper in here!"
Regards,
Wal-Mart
Subject: Why women should not take their husbands shopping
This is why women should not take men shopping against their will....
After Mr. and Mrs. Fenton retired, Mrs. Fenton insisted her husband accompany her on her trips to Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, Mr. Fenton was like most men -- he found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out.
Equally unfortunately, Mrs. Fenton was like most women -- she loved to browse.
One day Mrs. Fenton received the following letter from her local Wal-Mart.
"Dear Mrs. Fenton,
Over the past six months, your husband has been causing quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and may be forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against Mr. Fenton are listed below a nd are documented by our video surveillance cameras.
1. June 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they weren't looking.
2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5 minute intervals.
3. July 7: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom.
4. July 19: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, "Code 3 in Housewares - get on it right away."
5. August 4: Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&M's on layaway.
6. September 14: Moved a "CAUTION - WET FLOOR" sign to a carpeted area.
7. September 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department.
8. September 23: When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"
9. October 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.
10. November 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.
11. December 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.
12. December 6: In the auto department, he practiced his "Madonna look" by using different sizes of funnels.
13. December 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled "PICK ME! PICK ME!"
14. December 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed "OH NO! IT'S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!"
And last, but not least,
15. December 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, "Hey! There's no toilet paper in here!"
Regards,
Wal-Mart
20070912
Lest ye think that terrorists have cornered the market on evil:
Woman, 20, Was Imprisioned and Tortured courtesy of the NY Times
Woman, 20, Was Imprisioned and Tortured courtesy of the NY Times
20070910
9/11
I won't write about this tomorrow, but I will write about it today.
September 11, 2001. Approximately 2,998 U.S. civilians (mostly civilians) dead or missing on American soil, due to an unprecedented and cowardly act of terrorism. It is a great pity that a nation that prides itself on being one of the strongest in the world had it's citzenry overcome with boxcutters and knives. As we have all said subsequently, and I think, uniformly: do it again, and this time you will be the one dying and we will be the ones who live. Cultural memory is an interesting thing: I have done nothing to anyone who belives in Islam. No one who believes in Islam has done anything to effect me personally. Therefore, I fail to understand the absolute rabid fundamentalist hatred they have toward us, and must boil the hatred to it's simplest argument - you end up hating what you covet the most.
I am normally a non violent person. However, when I watched people who made the concious decision to plunge to their deaths rather than burn to death, I became violent. How dare you conspire to murder perfectly innocent human beings based on their nationality? Had any of them stood in front of me, I would have willingly killed them myself.
However, death in itself does not change a culture, does not alter a people's religious belief's. If you kill the father, the son grows up with more hatred in his heart than the father had. What, then, is the solution? One cannot, in good conscience, eradicate a people.
I went to the site of the Towers in 2003. Without a doubt, the eeriest and most haunting experience ever, with it's fence covered in photos of the missing and the dead, and the remnants of wreaths and floral arrangements scattering amid the ash in the wind. I stood there, with my fingers through the chain link, and I was fucking angry.
September 11, 1971. The date of my parent's marriage, at the First United Methodist Church in East Point, GA. My parents have now been married thirty six years (btw, my parents NEVER have remembered their anniversary), and have the dubious distinction of having the date of their anniversary be the date of one of the most heinous crimes in contemporary history. I think, in fact, that the best thing any of us could do as Americans would be to schedule any important event on this date (as much as we could; bris's, bar mitzvah's, baptisms, christenings, births, weddings, engagement parties, divorces..well..maybe not divorces). Anything that was life affirming or celebratory in nature. We are still here. We still live on. We still have spirit. Our economy is not ruined (discounting the housing debacle). We are not oppressed. We are not destroyed. And...we are still angry. And we will never forget those who died.
September 11, 2001. Approximately 2,998 U.S. civilians (mostly civilians) dead or missing on American soil, due to an unprecedented and cowardly act of terrorism. It is a great pity that a nation that prides itself on being one of the strongest in the world had it's citzenry overcome with boxcutters and knives. As we have all said subsequently, and I think, uniformly: do it again, and this time you will be the one dying and we will be the ones who live. Cultural memory is an interesting thing: I have done nothing to anyone who belives in Islam. No one who believes in Islam has done anything to effect me personally. Therefore, I fail to understand the absolute rabid fundamentalist hatred they have toward us, and must boil the hatred to it's simplest argument - you end up hating what you covet the most.
I am normally a non violent person. However, when I watched people who made the concious decision to plunge to their deaths rather than burn to death, I became violent. How dare you conspire to murder perfectly innocent human beings based on their nationality? Had any of them stood in front of me, I would have willingly killed them myself.
However, death in itself does not change a culture, does not alter a people's religious belief's. If you kill the father, the son grows up with more hatred in his heart than the father had. What, then, is the solution? One cannot, in good conscience, eradicate a people.
I went to the site of the Towers in 2003. Without a doubt, the eeriest and most haunting experience ever, with it's fence covered in photos of the missing and the dead, and the remnants of wreaths and floral arrangements scattering amid the ash in the wind. I stood there, with my fingers through the chain link, and I was fucking angry.
September 11, 1971. The date of my parent's marriage, at the First United Methodist Church in East Point, GA. My parents have now been married thirty six years (btw, my parents NEVER have remembered their anniversary), and have the dubious distinction of having the date of their anniversary be the date of one of the most heinous crimes in contemporary history. I think, in fact, that the best thing any of us could do as Americans would be to schedule any important event on this date (as much as we could; bris's, bar mitzvah's, baptisms, christenings, births, weddings, engagement parties, divorces..well..maybe not divorces). Anything that was life affirming or celebratory in nature. We are still here. We still live on. We still have spirit. Our economy is not ruined (discounting the housing debacle). We are not oppressed. We are not destroyed. And...we are still angry. And we will never forget those who died.
20070907
20070906
You know, since I'm feeling under the weather today, I thought we would talk a bit about health care.
Ah, screw it. We won't talk about it today - well, we will, just in short form.
You get sick. You have no job. If you have no job because you are disabled, a child, or elderly....that's one thing. If you have no job because you are....well, whatever....then tough shit.
So we have programs to help the disabled, children and the elderly already. They are called social security and medicare and medicaid (and most states have some other form of medical social support programs available, although the paperwork for these programs ala PeachCare seems to be extraordinarily painful).
Is there a reason we need to help people who have two functioning arms, two functioning legs and a brain that works (more or less)?
Ah, you say, but what about educational levels having an impact upon people's ability to earn a living? If you don't have a college degree, you can't get a good job. Bollix, I say! Not everyone is suited for a higher education. Not everyone needs to go and major in English. And it isn't that people who don't have college degrees are, en masse, lazy. I don't have a college degree. I work for a living, and have held professional jobs since eighteen continuously with only a three month break. And I am not lazy, by anyone's definition.
The thing is this: if we decide to require, at a Federal level, all companies with...more than five employees to provide insurance coverage to their employees (meaning that the company has to pay for it if the employee can't themselves)...that means the cost of doing business will increase. In response, there will be some factor of businesses that are driven out of business or who are forced to decrease in size as a result of the additional spend. No one likes that idea.
The second idea - to fund again at a Federal level some kind of magical insurance fund available to anyone that doesn't have insurance - uh, again, I thought that is why we already have the social programs we do? Do you really want to see yet another deduction come from your check to pay for someone else? Really?
It all comes down to one fundamental question: what are we? Are we a capitalist society? Are we a quasi socialist society? Are we some sort of new hybrid? Are we looking for a replacement for the role previously fulfilled by organized religion and community in the law?
Ethically and morally, I'm not comfortable with letting people suffer because they can't afford to purchase insurance and are thus denied anything but basic healthcare, but I don't want to pay for it personally. I'm pretty sure that makes me a typical American, doesn't it?
Ah, screw it. We won't talk about it today - well, we will, just in short form.
You get sick. You have no job. If you have no job because you are disabled, a child, or elderly....that's one thing. If you have no job because you are....well, whatever....then tough shit.
So we have programs to help the disabled, children and the elderly already. They are called social security and medicare and medicaid (and most states have some other form of medical social support programs available, although the paperwork for these programs ala PeachCare seems to be extraordinarily painful).
Is there a reason we need to help people who have two functioning arms, two functioning legs and a brain that works (more or less)?
Ah, you say, but what about educational levels having an impact upon people's ability to earn a living? If you don't have a college degree, you can't get a good job. Bollix, I say! Not everyone is suited for a higher education. Not everyone needs to go and major in English. And it isn't that people who don't have college degrees are, en masse, lazy. I don't have a college degree. I work for a living, and have held professional jobs since eighteen continuously with only a three month break. And I am not lazy, by anyone's definition.
The thing is this: if we decide to require, at a Federal level, all companies with...more than five employees to provide insurance coverage to their employees (meaning that the company has to pay for it if the employee can't themselves)...that means the cost of doing business will increase. In response, there will be some factor of businesses that are driven out of business or who are forced to decrease in size as a result of the additional spend. No one likes that idea.
The second idea - to fund again at a Federal level some kind of magical insurance fund available to anyone that doesn't have insurance - uh, again, I thought that is why we already have the social programs we do? Do you really want to see yet another deduction come from your check to pay for someone else? Really?
It all comes down to one fundamental question: what are we? Are we a capitalist society? Are we a quasi socialist society? Are we some sort of new hybrid? Are we looking for a replacement for the role previously fulfilled by organized religion and community in the law?
Ethically and morally, I'm not comfortable with letting people suffer because they can't afford to purchase insurance and are thus denied anything but basic healthcare, but I don't want to pay for it personally. I'm pretty sure that makes me a typical American, doesn't it?
20070904
Labiaplasty
Toodling through the internet, as one does....when the word LABIAPLASTY leapt out at me and hit me across the nose.
According to this article in Newsweek, women are starting to treat labiaplasty as the new boob job. You know, you don't particularly like yourself "down there" or think that you have too much flesh there or maybe it's the wrong color at the bottom or I don't know what, just something (this is like anorexic people thinking they are fat...wtf?)! So you decide that you want to go and have a part of yourself that represents your femininity cut off? I mean, sure, I wax. The current trend of being completely denuded I find kinda weird...because it makes all women pretty much look like pre pubescent girls, and I think that is rather creepy. I am not, however, about to go under general anesthesia so someone can take a knife and cut off a part of my flesh.
This is my favorite quote:
"In many cases women say that they began to question the look of their vaginal area after a comment from a male partner who had been influenced by images in sexually explicit magazines or movies."
Ladies...if a man is comparing you to Jenna Jameson when the two of you are in bed together, it's time to find a new man!!! Not go under the knife!!!! I mean, people in porn are digitally cleaned up/enhanced! No one is that perfect; why run the risk of desensitizing yourself trying? I mean, seriously, if your partner said to you "I sure wish you could deep throat like she does" I think you'd get pretty pissed off, so why listen to what someone else says about your body? Damn, ladies, don't you know by now to only listen to the good stuff that other people say? We women do enough self body criticism, we certainly don't need to listen to anyone else!
And as the article goes on to mention, it is rather ironic that as Western cultures agitate for the outlawing of female circumcision or other forms of genital mulitation....aren't we doing the same thing ourselves? Isn't slicing off a functional piece of your body (a part that does actually provide lubrication during intercourse) mutilation when all is said and done?
According to this article in Newsweek, women are starting to treat labiaplasty as the new boob job. You know, you don't particularly like yourself "down there" or think that you have too much flesh there or maybe it's the wrong color at the bottom or I don't know what, just something (this is like anorexic people thinking they are fat...wtf?)! So you decide that you want to go and have a part of yourself that represents your femininity cut off? I mean, sure, I wax. The current trend of being completely denuded I find kinda weird...because it makes all women pretty much look like pre pubescent girls, and I think that is rather creepy. I am not, however, about to go under general anesthesia so someone can take a knife and cut off a part of my flesh.
This is my favorite quote:
"In many cases women say that they began to question the look of their vaginal area after a comment from a male partner who had been influenced by images in sexually explicit magazines or movies."
Ladies...if a man is comparing you to Jenna Jameson when the two of you are in bed together, it's time to find a new man!!! Not go under the knife!!!! I mean, people in porn are digitally cleaned up/enhanced! No one is that perfect; why run the risk of desensitizing yourself trying? I mean, seriously, if your partner said to you "I sure wish you could deep throat like she does" I think you'd get pretty pissed off, so why listen to what someone else says about your body? Damn, ladies, don't you know by now to only listen to the good stuff that other people say? We women do enough self body criticism, we certainly don't need to listen to anyone else!
And as the article goes on to mention, it is rather ironic that as Western cultures agitate for the outlawing of female circumcision or other forms of genital mulitation....aren't we doing the same thing ourselves? Isn't slicing off a functional piece of your body (a part that does actually provide lubrication during intercourse) mutilation when all is said and done?
Left Foot, Right Shoe
Spent some time walking down the beach, peering through the new (to my mind) high and wild dunes looking for the old beach house. The old driftwood tree, my childhood landmark, is gone. Found the new old trail, took off my shoes, waded out in the water, and let granddad's ashes fly off into the wind and water as he wished. Said a small prayer. Thought about all the times we walked that beach when I was a child. Walking back, saw a flock of sandpipers, which made me cry.
20070831
Diana
So today is the 10th anniversary of the untimely passing of Diana, Princess of Wales. Say what you will about her life, as indeed most people have done so (and been spectacularly unkind)…and yet I cannot help but feel a little bit sorry for her when all was said and done.
She never had a chance for a normal life. Yes, she had every little girl’s dream of a big wedding, with a white dress, marrying a prince….but how could she know at 19 that her prince was actually a toad (a tampon??). She was raised to be a trophy, with a very incomplete education, and never really encouraged to think for herself. She grew into a lovely, mature and capable woman…but she had to do it all under the intense glare of the spotlight reserved for British royalty. For this she has my utmost sympathy. The media, in caricaturizing her by trumpeting her affairs and her scandals and her bouts with bulimia, certainly sells papers, but (to me) does nothing to diminish her radiant smile, her charitable works, and her ultimate grace. I think both her sons are a testament to her skills as a mother, and a reflection of her love for them.
I have several magazines that covered her death sitting in a box in my garage; I remember exactly where I was…and I can tell you that, ten years ago, in exactly one month, I was going to start down a path that was wrong for me. In death, Diana finally liberated herself from her own wrong path. It’s just a pity that a life with such brilliant potential had to end that way.
She never had a chance for a normal life. Yes, she had every little girl’s dream of a big wedding, with a white dress, marrying a prince….but how could she know at 19 that her prince was actually a toad (a tampon??). She was raised to be a trophy, with a very incomplete education, and never really encouraged to think for herself. She grew into a lovely, mature and capable woman…but she had to do it all under the intense glare of the spotlight reserved for British royalty. For this she has my utmost sympathy. The media, in caricaturizing her by trumpeting her affairs and her scandals and her bouts with bulimia, certainly sells papers, but (to me) does nothing to diminish her radiant smile, her charitable works, and her ultimate grace. I think both her sons are a testament to her skills as a mother, and a reflection of her love for them.
I have several magazines that covered her death sitting in a box in my garage; I remember exactly where I was…and I can tell you that, ten years ago, in exactly one month, I was going to start down a path that was wrong for me. In death, Diana finally liberated herself from her own wrong path. It’s just a pity that a life with such brilliant potential had to end that way.
20070828
Adventure!
That's right, Mr. Manners and I are going on an adventure this weekend, off somewhere in the wilds of the good ole U.S. of A. for the last long weekend prior to Thanksgiving. I am very excited!!!!
And no, you aren't invited, but I promise to tell you all about it when we return.
Well, not all ;-)
And no, you aren't invited, but I promise to tell you all about it when we return.
Well, not all ;-)
You know, it's rather nice to be happy.
The thing about relationships (speaking broadly here and with no immediate context): you can't make someone into something they are not. If you sit around having arguments with someone about whether or not they love you - if they say they do, they do. Just because it doesn't manifest itself in a way you recognize doesn't mean that it doesn't exist or that it isn't real. If you think of yourself as an "empath" (and boy do I use that term loosely) who can pick up on other people's feelings and thoughts like some kind of Emotional Superman....and you can't pick up your partners, it does not mean that they do not love you. It means that they are different. Different is good. People who exactly alike are boring. Celebrate your differences!
You can't make someone into you. You can't make someone into a kind of person you might find more to your taste. You either accept someone for who they are, or you don't. You can ask people to change, certainly, and they either will or they will tell you to go fuck yourself. And very once in a great while, it's worth changing yourself for another person (only once in a great while...like...alternate leap years :-).
Just rambling. Forgot point. Brain is in idle mode this week. Really looking forward to weekend out of town, will be most relaxing and soothing (ah, the savage breast).
The thing about relationships (speaking broadly here and with no immediate context): you can't make someone into something they are not. If you sit around having arguments with someone about whether or not they love you - if they say they do, they do. Just because it doesn't manifest itself in a way you recognize doesn't mean that it doesn't exist or that it isn't real. If you think of yourself as an "empath" (and boy do I use that term loosely) who can pick up on other people's feelings and thoughts like some kind of Emotional Superman....and you can't pick up your partners, it does not mean that they do not love you. It means that they are different. Different is good. People who exactly alike are boring. Celebrate your differences!
You can't make someone into you. You can't make someone into a kind of person you might find more to your taste. You either accept someone for who they are, or you don't. You can ask people to change, certainly, and they either will or they will tell you to go fuck yourself. And very once in a great while, it's worth changing yourself for another person (only once in a great while...like...alternate leap years :-).
Just rambling. Forgot point. Brain is in idle mode this week. Really looking forward to weekend out of town, will be most relaxing and soothing (ah, the savage breast).
20070825
The nicest thing about family gatherings is the moment you look around and realize that these eight people sitting with you all share the same memory you do. Rather a way of etching that memory in stone, if you will. Those people also remember things you don't, and the more you speak of your mutual history the more you remember the things you'd forgotten. It is a state of family communion, I think, and one of the things that makes family special.
I think all our thoughts and wishes go out to the families of those folks in Greece impacted by the forest fires.
This is, I think, the saddest thing I could have read today: "It's a tragedy," an eyewitness told Greek television. "I can see the burnt bodies of a mother holding her child in her arms. Further away there are more bodies. It's terrible." Fire officials confirmed that a mother and her four children had perished, as had three firefighters." Courtesy of BBC News.
The real tragedy here is not that this was a natural phenomenom, no, the real tragedy is that someone actually started these fires deliberately. The investigating authorities strongly suspect arson. Who sets fire to a village? Who sets a fire that threatens a monastary?
Ο Θεός είναι με σας
This is, I think, the saddest thing I could have read today: "It's a tragedy," an eyewitness told Greek television. "I can see the burnt bodies of a mother holding her child in her arms. Further away there are more bodies. It's terrible." Fire officials confirmed that a mother and her four children had perished, as had three firefighters." Courtesy of BBC News.
The real tragedy here is not that this was a natural phenomenom, no, the real tragedy is that someone actually started these fires deliberately. The investigating authorities strongly suspect arson. Who sets fire to a village? Who sets a fire that threatens a monastary?
Ο Θεός είναι με σας
Some things you can't resist
So Michael Vick is going to lose $150mm in endorsements, salary and otherwise....awww...poor baby!
It's just another case of "ruff" justice!
Sorry! :-) I just couldn't resist!
It's just another case of "ruff" justice!
Sorry! :-) I just couldn't resist!
20070824
Work Irritations
Ok, maybe I have too much time on my hands this morning but I am rather annoyed.
I want to know why it is unacceptable for little Miss White Bread Eliza to have a nose ring, and yet I just saw someone who has gold teeth. Gold teeth!!! In my office!!!!
Secondly, you know, the section of the company I work in is the section that pays the bills. So why, oh why, are we the ones who constantly get crapped upon? Example: our site gets Falcons and Braves season tickets, to be divided up amongst the teams at our site. There are plenty of games between the two sports so that each team should get their pick of about four games, according to my math.
Well, we got two. Just now. To Monday night's game. Against the Bengal's. And the other people who belong to our section? They didn't get any tickets either. So the two tickets that were to be offered to the twenty five or so folks in our part of the world now have to be offered to the fifty or so in our part of the world. And the lady that coordinates the program? "you are just XYZ, you don't get anything else".
Lady, we pay your salary.
I want to know why it is unacceptable for little Miss White Bread Eliza to have a nose ring, and yet I just saw someone who has gold teeth. Gold teeth!!! In my office!!!!
Secondly, you know, the section of the company I work in is the section that pays the bills. So why, oh why, are we the ones who constantly get crapped upon? Example: our site gets Falcons and Braves season tickets, to be divided up amongst the teams at our site. There are plenty of games between the two sports so that each team should get their pick of about four games, according to my math.
Well, we got two. Just now. To Monday night's game. Against the Bengal's. And the other people who belong to our section? They didn't get any tickets either. So the two tickets that were to be offered to the twenty five or so folks in our part of the world now have to be offered to the fifty or so in our part of the world. And the lady that coordinates the program? "you are just XYZ, you don't get anything else".
Lady, we pay your salary.
Fall Fashion Season 2007
Dear Mr. or Ms Retail Buyer:
While returning some articles of apparel to your fine and partially remodeled shopping “experience” yesterday, I took advantage of the occasion to casually browse through the incoming fall merchandise. As your friendly end customer, you know, a consumer who actually has some discretionary income, I have a few suggestions:
1. Glitter does not belong on clothing.
2. Sequins do not belong on work blouses, and definitely no where near anything approaching a nipple.
3. Tailored dress shirts seem to be quite the rage for fall, which is a lovely thing. Why must they be ruined by running metallic threads of various colors through the weave or worse yet edged around the collar?
4. The trend of placing faux pockets on breastage on polo shirts is again not appropriate. I do not want anyone staring at my breasts, thank you.
5. Lettering on one’s derriere, even on casual pants or pajama bottoms, is a definite “don’t”.
6. Animal prints are fine in moderation. Leopard and zebra prints are quite lovely; but not in fluorescent green and hot pink. Color combinations that do not naturally occur in nature should not naturally occur in fashion.
7. The sixties are over. Really, really over. Please put the mini dresses with the big block prints back in the Smithsonian where they belong. No one cares that now they are silk instead of polyester.
8. I notice that the section reserved for women’s formal wear seems to be slowly increasing. Do other women have some fascinating social life comprised of balls, nights at the opera and other such formal events that I know nothing of? Oh, and yes, those dresses are quite hideous.
Lastly, please, Mr. and Ms. Retail Buyer….
NOT EVERYONE IS FAT! STOCK SOME SMALLER SIZES!
Yours,
Eliza
While returning some articles of apparel to your fine and partially remodeled shopping “experience” yesterday, I took advantage of the occasion to casually browse through the incoming fall merchandise. As your friendly end customer, you know, a consumer who actually has some discretionary income, I have a few suggestions:
1. Glitter does not belong on clothing.
2. Sequins do not belong on work blouses, and definitely no where near anything approaching a nipple.
3. Tailored dress shirts seem to be quite the rage for fall, which is a lovely thing. Why must they be ruined by running metallic threads of various colors through the weave or worse yet edged around the collar?
4. The trend of placing faux pockets on breastage on polo shirts is again not appropriate. I do not want anyone staring at my breasts, thank you.
5. Lettering on one’s derriere, even on casual pants or pajama bottoms, is a definite “don’t”.
6. Animal prints are fine in moderation. Leopard and zebra prints are quite lovely; but not in fluorescent green and hot pink. Color combinations that do not naturally occur in nature should not naturally occur in fashion.
7. The sixties are over. Really, really over. Please put the mini dresses with the big block prints back in the Smithsonian where they belong. No one cares that now they are silk instead of polyester.
8. I notice that the section reserved for women’s formal wear seems to be slowly increasing. Do other women have some fascinating social life comprised of balls, nights at the opera and other such formal events that I know nothing of? Oh, and yes, those dresses are quite hideous.
Lastly, please, Mr. and Ms. Retail Buyer….
NOT EVERYONE IS FAT! STOCK SOME SMALLER SIZES!
Yours,
Eliza
20070823
20070820
Things 2
Ok, I'll play.
Things I could get used to:
1. Continually being asked for ID whenever I purchase alcohol or lottery tickets.
2. Having family members that love to swap furniture (really, it's like buying new things only free!)
3. Clean sheets and a nice fluffy comforter on my bed (nothing beats the first time you snooze on freshly laundered sheets).
4. Not really having any grass to mow!
5. Relatives with beach property!
6. Sunday snuggles with my girls
Things I don't want to get used to either:
1. The silver hair around my temples. At what point does that stop being shocking?
2. Finding Maddy hair in odd places...like...my sock drawer???
3. Men in my office wearing shorts. With socks. With sandals.
4. The ants that are invading my house in search of water!!
Pandora? You're up!
Things I could get used to:
1. Continually being asked for ID whenever I purchase alcohol or lottery tickets.
2. Having family members that love to swap furniture (really, it's like buying new things only free!)
3. Clean sheets and a nice fluffy comforter on my bed (nothing beats the first time you snooze on freshly laundered sheets).
4. Not really having any grass to mow!
5. Relatives with beach property!
6. Sunday snuggles with my girls
Things I don't want to get used to either:
1. The silver hair around my temples. At what point does that stop being shocking?
2. Finding Maddy hair in odd places...like...my sock drawer???
3. Men in my office wearing shorts. With socks. With sandals.
4. The ants that are invading my house in search of water!!
Pandora? You're up!
20070819
Not to steal a march on Pandora, but she got me thinking.
We seem to enjoy a culture of victimhood. How many times have you turned on the news or opened the paper to hear someone complaining about their circumstance, some tragic life event, etc. and going on to say how it has ruined their lives? How many episodes of Dateline follow up with the people they have exposed (like that man who they profiled on the web predator sting who later killed himself rather than face the censure of his community) or profiled on their stories?
Pandora was speaking specifically of rape. Remove the emotion from the argument. We can all agree that rape is a bad thing. If we speak in psychological modern “vernacular”, rape is nothing other than a crime of aggression and violence, and not a crime of a passion and sexuality.
I do humbly beg to differ that last point. Rape is the ultimate expression of disdain – a man’s way of saying “I am and always will be more powerful than you in this particular capacity. I can do something to you that you cannot do to me. We will never be equal in this regard, and because I can do it I will.” I firmly believe that by committing this act, man demonstrates that at his basest level he has nothing but disdain for women, and sees women as nothing but a receptacle for his desires and his sperm.
My my.
Women do not need to embrace victimhood. If you let your rape or your molestation twist who you are, or become a pivotal moment in your life, you give your rapist/molester all the power in the world. You’ve given him more power than he deserves. Why should you let that person selfishness and arrogance and sociopathic desires change or influence who you are in the slightest? Ladies, don’t do it. You are not a victim. Your biology does not make you one. You can’t change what happened, or take it back, but you and only you have the ability to let it not change you.
We seem to enjoy a culture of victimhood. How many times have you turned on the news or opened the paper to hear someone complaining about their circumstance, some tragic life event, etc. and going on to say how it has ruined their lives? How many episodes of Dateline follow up with the people they have exposed (like that man who they profiled on the web predator sting who later killed himself rather than face the censure of his community) or profiled on their stories?
Pandora was speaking specifically of rape. Remove the emotion from the argument. We can all agree that rape is a bad thing. If we speak in psychological modern “vernacular”, rape is nothing other than a crime of aggression and violence, and not a crime of a passion and sexuality.
I do humbly beg to differ that last point. Rape is the ultimate expression of disdain – a man’s way of saying “I am and always will be more powerful than you in this particular capacity. I can do something to you that you cannot do to me. We will never be equal in this regard, and because I can do it I will.” I firmly believe that by committing this act, man demonstrates that at his basest level he has nothing but disdain for women, and sees women as nothing but a receptacle for his desires and his sperm.
My my.
Women do not need to embrace victimhood. If you let your rape or your molestation twist who you are, or become a pivotal moment in your life, you give your rapist/molester all the power in the world. You’ve given him more power than he deserves. Why should you let that person selfishness and arrogance and sociopathic desires change or influence who you are in the slightest? Ladies, don’t do it. You are not a victim. Your biology does not make you one. You can’t change what happened, or take it back, but you and only you have the ability to let it not change you.
Dear Fellow Drivers
An open letter to all my dear fellow highway drivers;
If, perchance, you are driving in the fast lane on the highway, any fast lane, on any highway, be it four lanes or six or eight, and you happen to glance in your rear view mirror (assuming, of course, you are a cognizant enough driver to do so periodically) and you just happen to notice a long line of cars behind you, all essentially tailgating one another (or worse yet, practicing dangerous traffic stunts to pass on the right), that is a gigantic clue to you, the lead driver.
No, it's this doesn't mean that everyone else is just a bad driver and follows too closely.
No, it doesn't mean that you get to be the self appointed speed controller of America's freeways.
No, it doesn't mean that there is some new game people play on the highway where they all like to drive really fast and only allow fifteen feet of space between themselves and the next car.
No, my dear fellow driver, this means that you should get your slow moving ass out of the fucking way. As in, put on your turn signal and get in the right hand lane, where your slow moving, two mile over the speed limit doing ass belongs.
See, the left hand lane is for people like me - people who know what the speed limit is, and who make a deliberate decision to both break the law and risk their (my) own safety by speeding. I get really pissed off at some middle aged balding man in his Volvo, all by his lonesome, idling along in the fast lane doing approximately 71, setting pace with the car to his right, and NEVER looking in his rear view mirror, except maybe to check the state of his thinning hair or crazy eyebrows. What gives, man?
Your idiocy forces me into something stupid, illegal and dangerous....to take the first available gap, to stomp on the gas, and to pass your dawdling ass on the right. So to all you mini van owners, you Volvo station wagon owners, and the one Merc I passed who was actually doing 69 (dude, you own a Merc!!! what is your problem????), why don't you stay in the slow lane where you belong? If tractor trailers are blowing past you in the right hand lane, you might want to consider the use of the accelerator. Just a suggestion.
Part Two of my driving/trip blog.
On the way up, I stopped in Gaffney in the
middle of the night for gas, and to pee. I hate stopping on trips...because I hate being in the car, and any stop just prolongs my car sitting agony. Anyway, I regard Gaffney as the armpit of South Carolina. Any city whose claim to fame is a gigantic water tower painted to resemble a peach (which, in truth, resembles a gigantic plumber's ass, albeit a fuzzy one) deserves nothing but a severe 'net mocking. And it does actually have a trailer park next to the highway - so I guess I have to take back that earlier post! Back to the peeing thing...my choices for gas and urination are: Citgo (no way), Exxon (double no way) or BP (ok, cool with that). So I pull into the BP, start fueling, lock the dogs into the car, and head inside. I notice as I'm walking back towards the loo that there is this really drop dead gorgeous little girl in the candy girl. Little girl to me means about sixteen. Drop dead gorgeous....in that blond, blue eyed, unspoiled, pristine kind of way. Then I took a second look, and I realize this all American sweetheart is not only dolled up like Paris Hilton, but she also has a knockoff Prada back replete with the little froofroo hairy dog tucked up asleep inside.
First: when did the local Hambrick's start carrying knockoff Prada bags? Second: what is a girl who might have been all of fifteen doing wearing a skirt so short that even I could tell she was wearing pink boy shorts underneath? Third: what the freaking fuck are her parents thinking? Fourth: what the freaking fuck is she thinking? This is GAFFNEY SOUTH CAROLINA and here is a little Paris Hilton Wannabe in the British Petroleum at 11 pm on a Wednesday night. Isn't this a school night? Where are your parents? Please don't tell me that you are out dressed like that (jailbait) on a school night?
I have two things to say: I wish people would learn to exercise some control and periodically turn off the television, and I wish we would all teach little girls that their worth as people wasn't dependent upon how much skin they display, or how pretty they are, or how much they put out.
If, perchance, you are driving in the fast lane on the highway, any fast lane, on any highway, be it four lanes or six or eight, and you happen to glance in your rear view mirror (assuming, of course, you are a cognizant enough driver to do so periodically) and you just happen to notice a long line of cars behind you, all essentially tailgating one another (or worse yet, practicing dangerous traffic stunts to pass on the right), that is a gigantic clue to you, the lead driver.
No, it's this doesn't mean that everyone else is just a bad driver and follows too closely.
No, it doesn't mean that you get to be the self appointed speed controller of America's freeways.
No, it doesn't mean that there is some new game people play on the highway where they all like to drive really fast and only allow fifteen feet of space between themselves and the next car.
No, my dear fellow driver, this means that you should get your slow moving ass out of the fucking way. As in, put on your turn signal and get in the right hand lane, where your slow moving, two mile over the speed limit doing ass belongs.
See, the left hand lane is for people like me - people who know what the speed limit is, and who make a deliberate decision to both break the law and risk their (my) own safety by speeding. I get really pissed off at some middle aged balding man in his Volvo, all by his lonesome, idling along in the fast lane doing approximately 71, setting pace with the car to his right, and NEVER looking in his rear view mirror, except maybe to check the state of his thinning hair or crazy eyebrows. What gives, man?
Your idiocy forces me into something stupid, illegal and dangerous....to take the first available gap, to stomp on the gas, and to pass your dawdling ass on the right. So to all you mini van owners, you Volvo station wagon owners, and the one Merc I passed who was actually doing 69 (dude, you own a Merc!!! what is your problem????), why don't you stay in the slow lane where you belong? If tractor trailers are blowing past you in the right hand lane, you might want to consider the use of the accelerator. Just a suggestion.
Part Two of my driving/trip blog.
On the way up, I stopped in Gaffney in the
middle of the night for gas, and to pee. I hate stopping on trips...because I hate being in the car, and any stop just prolongs my car sitting agony. Anyway, I regard Gaffney as the armpit of South Carolina. Any city whose claim to fame is a gigantic water tower painted to resemble a peach (which, in truth, resembles a gigantic plumber's ass, albeit a fuzzy one) deserves nothing but a severe 'net mocking. And it does actually have a trailer park next to the highway - so I guess I have to take back that earlier post! Back to the peeing thing...my choices for gas and urination are: Citgo (no way), Exxon (double no way) or BP (ok, cool with that). So I pull into the BP, start fueling, lock the dogs into the car, and head inside. I notice as I'm walking back towards the loo that there is this really drop dead gorgeous little girl in the candy girl. Little girl to me means about sixteen. Drop dead gorgeous....in that blond, blue eyed, unspoiled, pristine kind of way. Then I took a second look, and I realize this all American sweetheart is not only dolled up like Paris Hilton, but she also has a knockoff Prada back replete with the little froofroo hairy dog tucked up asleep inside.
First: when did the local Hambrick's start carrying knockoff Prada bags? Second: what is a girl who might have been all of fifteen doing wearing a skirt so short that even I could tell she was wearing pink boy shorts underneath? Third: what the freaking fuck are her parents thinking? Fourth: what the freaking fuck is she thinking? This is GAFFNEY SOUTH CAROLINA and here is a little Paris Hilton Wannabe in the British Petroleum at 11 pm on a Wednesday night. Isn't this a school night? Where are your parents? Please don't tell me that you are out dressed like that (jailbait) on a school night?
I have two things to say: I wish people would learn to exercise some control and periodically turn off the television, and I wish we would all teach little girls that their worth as people wasn't dependent upon how much skin they display, or how pretty they are, or how much they put out.
20070816
Ties
That's an interesting discussion.
Why do we hold onto things or relationships or friendships that we know are bad for us, or that we know have outlived their usefulness or their purpose in our lives? Do we do so out of sentimentality? Do we do so out of fear? Are we just plain lazy?
There comes a point, I think, where you have to let go of so much of your own backstory and baggage. It takes some people longer than others - it takes women forever! We tend to let people or circumstance walk all over us before we finally say enough!
I mean, how long do you tolerate someone who is ostensibly a friend being rude or negative to you everytime you see this person? Why do you still speak to them?
How long do you associate with someone who reminds you of the bad times in your life? Folks handle this differently: some people have that link as a reminder of their past life, and other folks sever all ties and walk off to recreate their story somewhere else. Is one braver than the other? Is one approach better than the other? Or is there a blend somehow that works best?
Or say you have a friend that is an out an out alcoholic (we all know someone that meets this criteria). You've seen them fall into the gutter, perhaps literally, and been around to lend a hand repeatedly, from simply driving them home to paying their tab to taking care of them when they've given themselves alcohol poisoning. Why do we do it? Do we have an inherent desire for martyrdom? Does it make us feel better about ourselves?
Maybe you have an abusive relative or spouse. Why do you hang out? Do you tell yourself that there are different rules for family? Like...would you ever slap your mother? Would you? I bet the answer is almost a universal no. Do you continue to stay in that negative relationship because it IS your family, and you feel beholden to them even though it's at the risk of your own health and sanity?
I am simply saying: do what is right for you. If a plant has a dead branch, you cut if off for the general health of the plant. Do the same with the relationships in your life. You'll feel much better!
Why do we hold onto things or relationships or friendships that we know are bad for us, or that we know have outlived their usefulness or their purpose in our lives? Do we do so out of sentimentality? Do we do so out of fear? Are we just plain lazy?
There comes a point, I think, where you have to let go of so much of your own backstory and baggage. It takes some people longer than others - it takes women forever! We tend to let people or circumstance walk all over us before we finally say enough!
I mean, how long do you tolerate someone who is ostensibly a friend being rude or negative to you everytime you see this person? Why do you still speak to them?
How long do you associate with someone who reminds you of the bad times in your life? Folks handle this differently: some people have that link as a reminder of their past life, and other folks sever all ties and walk off to recreate their story somewhere else. Is one braver than the other? Is one approach better than the other? Or is there a blend somehow that works best?
Or say you have a friend that is an out an out alcoholic (we all know someone that meets this criteria). You've seen them fall into the gutter, perhaps literally, and been around to lend a hand repeatedly, from simply driving them home to paying their tab to taking care of them when they've given themselves alcohol poisoning. Why do we do it? Do we have an inherent desire for martyrdom? Does it make us feel better about ourselves?
Maybe you have an abusive relative or spouse. Why do you hang out? Do you tell yourself that there are different rules for family? Like...would you ever slap your mother? Would you? I bet the answer is almost a universal no. Do you continue to stay in that negative relationship because it IS your family, and you feel beholden to them even though it's at the risk of your own health and sanity?
I am simply saying: do what is right for you. If a plant has a dead branch, you cut if off for the general health of the plant. Do the same with the relationships in your life. You'll feel much better!
Little Pink Houses
In making my little road trip to the Queen's City for work yesterday evening...and stuck in traffic...
I wondered...
Am I the only one who thinks that living next to a highway or major road or a main road at all is a horrible thing? Is it just me or are the properties that exist next to the highway only for poor people? What's it like to come home and relax to the sounds of thousands of cars honking and whizzing by outside your bedroom window? To have everything perpetually reek of exhaust? To actually PAY someone to have all your stuff smell forever of carbon monoxide?
I mean, when you look for a place to live...what are your criteria? Mine are pretty simple: no road frontage, no homeowner's association, trees, and a street that isn't a "drive through".
You don't see poor people living in rural areas tacked onto the side of the highway. Why is that? Have you ever seen a trailer park that wasn't for recreational vehicles on the side of the highway?
I wondered...
Am I the only one who thinks that living next to a highway or major road or a main road at all is a horrible thing? Is it just me or are the properties that exist next to the highway only for poor people? What's it like to come home and relax to the sounds of thousands of cars honking and whizzing by outside your bedroom window? To have everything perpetually reek of exhaust? To actually PAY someone to have all your stuff smell forever of carbon monoxide?
I mean, when you look for a place to live...what are your criteria? Mine are pretty simple: no road frontage, no homeowner's association, trees, and a street that isn't a "drive through".
You don't see poor people living in rural areas tacked onto the side of the highway. Why is that? Have you ever seen a trailer park that wasn't for recreational vehicles on the side of the highway?
20070815
Money
Here is where we are:
The Fed was trying to encourage business growth in previous years, in order to stimulate the economy, and thus kept adjusting interest rates. Normal Americans took advantage of the low interest rates that were so abundant, and used them to borrow against the equity in their houses for a variety of things (remodels, vacations, bills, college, etc.). Companies got used to us spending that level of income. We got used to spending it, and having those flashy toys. Things were good. Everyone was cool. Consumers were happy – we thought we had an investment that could do nothing but mature and continue to make us money, so we were all happy with the “minimal” risk involved in taking out all our cash on hand. We didn’t even mind paying almost double or more than double for our vacations abroad – because we were flush with our borrowed cash.
But haven’t you ever wondered, as you were driving around, where folks were getting the money from to afford those $800,000 homes? Or why your neighbor suddenly had two BMW’s? Did mankind suddenly evolve the ability to shit gold (and, by the way, I certainly wish this were the case although I believe it would be rather painful)?
Fast forward.
The market has an enormous contraction. Those folk in the sub prime market that were at risk in the first place, that locked into variable rate loans? They were the first ones to feel the pain when the Fed started raising rates. Half a point doesn’t sound like a lot, but could be an extra $200 a month (depending on the size of your loan, your terms, etc.). If you are already marginal, and overextended, where is that bump going to come from? Sure, a number of them gambled on being able to turn their house and sell it prior to the rates rising, or to have enough market equity to be able to refinance at a lower rate (this assumes that the market growth was 20% or more). Most of them lost that gamble.
That’s the first problem.
Here’s the second.
Our domestic spending (and by this I mean you and I, and not the gub’ment). All that money we borrowed against our houses last year or the year prior is long gone. It might be sitting in your driveway or in your new kitchen or stuck in a photo album somewhere, but it’s long gone. Now you still owe that money, and your house is still stuck at about the same value. You can’t continue to live the lifestyle you were living based on earned income alone, so what do most Americans do? Turn to plastic. And then what happens? The more you spend on a card, on all cards, the tighter the card companies are going to become in their treatment of you. Sure, they want to encourage you to open new lines of credit…they want you to spend, and spend lots – it’s how they make money. Better yet, they want you to carry a balance, a big one, so that they can zonk you with all sorts of fees and charges. Goodness forbid you ever miss a payment on any other card, because now any card company can adjust your account based off your behavior with another service provider. Doesn’t that suck?
Back to the point. Credit card companies want to make money, but they want to protect their unsecured little bottom lines. So what do they do – they quietly start tacking on more fees, they change their rates but send out mailers in unmarked envelopes with opt outs in unmarked envelopes (I even got one that was mailed separately, and I think this was from my BANK!).
Where we will end up is this: soon, consumers will have nothing left to spend (credit maxed, cash on hand tied up in immediate bills, no savings). How will retailers continue to move product? How will services firms continue to sell services? How will financial firms make money?
You’ve seen a lot of news in the past few weeks about other countries dumping their reserves into our economy, or snapping up some of our companies through mergers and acquisitions. That’s not really good news. The fact that other governments feel the need to pump money into our economy (thanks, China) means that they recognize the fact that our economies are co dependent upon each other, and that a failure in our economy would have a substantial ripple effect on theirs. I mean, where would China export all their product to if not the U.S.? It really is a global economy these days.
It’s all a vicious cycle. The more you spend, the less you have. The more you spend, the more companies make, the more they are inclined to spend on growth, and the more people are likely to have access to new jobs. New jobs mean more growth in other industries (housing, services, etc). The less you spend, the less everyone has. You spend less, companies have less, do not grow (hoard), begin to cost cut (forcing folks out of jobs), and everything suddenly goes to pot.
The armchair, dilettante economist here (spits out wad o’tobaccy) thinks that we are in for a bit of a hard fall here. Normal people had too much invested in their homes, and not enough in cash reserve (myself included in this lunacy). The gubment loves the weak dollar – it means that all goods manufactured here (the precious few that still are) are cheap cheap cheap and that’s usually an incentive for folks abroad to buy. If people are coming down from Canada to buy luxury cars in the U.S. because they can save $30K…that’s the sign of a REALLY weak dollar. While the weak dollar is great for businesses, and great for the government, is it really that great for the consumer? And once we stop selling the interest on our deficit to other countries, or our currency becomes so devalued that no one wants to buy it, what then? It’s like I’ve always said…how can you owe yourself money?
Anyway, now I’m rambling and have rather lost the plot.
What I’m saying is this: I think we’re headed for a recession. The long predicted housing bust has hurt more people and businesses than predicted. Tighten your belts, folks, and hang onto those wallets. It’s gonna be a long ride.
The Fed was trying to encourage business growth in previous years, in order to stimulate the economy, and thus kept adjusting interest rates. Normal Americans took advantage of the low interest rates that were so abundant, and used them to borrow against the equity in their houses for a variety of things (remodels, vacations, bills, college, etc.). Companies got used to us spending that level of income. We got used to spending it, and having those flashy toys. Things were good. Everyone was cool. Consumers were happy – we thought we had an investment that could do nothing but mature and continue to make us money, so we were all happy with the “minimal” risk involved in taking out all our cash on hand. We didn’t even mind paying almost double or more than double for our vacations abroad – because we were flush with our borrowed cash.
But haven’t you ever wondered, as you were driving around, where folks were getting the money from to afford those $800,000 homes? Or why your neighbor suddenly had two BMW’s? Did mankind suddenly evolve the ability to shit gold (and, by the way, I certainly wish this were the case although I believe it would be rather painful)?
Fast forward.
The market has an enormous contraction. Those folk in the sub prime market that were at risk in the first place, that locked into variable rate loans? They were the first ones to feel the pain when the Fed started raising rates. Half a point doesn’t sound like a lot, but could be an extra $200 a month (depending on the size of your loan, your terms, etc.). If you are already marginal, and overextended, where is that bump going to come from? Sure, a number of them gambled on being able to turn their house and sell it prior to the rates rising, or to have enough market equity to be able to refinance at a lower rate (this assumes that the market growth was 20% or more). Most of them lost that gamble.
That’s the first problem.
Here’s the second.
Our domestic spending (and by this I mean you and I, and not the gub’ment). All that money we borrowed against our houses last year or the year prior is long gone. It might be sitting in your driveway or in your new kitchen or stuck in a photo album somewhere, but it’s long gone. Now you still owe that money, and your house is still stuck at about the same value. You can’t continue to live the lifestyle you were living based on earned income alone, so what do most Americans do? Turn to plastic. And then what happens? The more you spend on a card, on all cards, the tighter the card companies are going to become in their treatment of you. Sure, they want to encourage you to open new lines of credit…they want you to spend, and spend lots – it’s how they make money. Better yet, they want you to carry a balance, a big one, so that they can zonk you with all sorts of fees and charges. Goodness forbid you ever miss a payment on any other card, because now any card company can adjust your account based off your behavior with another service provider. Doesn’t that suck?
Back to the point. Credit card companies want to make money, but they want to protect their unsecured little bottom lines. So what do they do – they quietly start tacking on more fees, they change their rates but send out mailers in unmarked envelopes with opt outs in unmarked envelopes (I even got one that was mailed separately, and I think this was from my BANK!).
Where we will end up is this: soon, consumers will have nothing left to spend (credit maxed, cash on hand tied up in immediate bills, no savings). How will retailers continue to move product? How will services firms continue to sell services? How will financial firms make money?
You’ve seen a lot of news in the past few weeks about other countries dumping their reserves into our economy, or snapping up some of our companies through mergers and acquisitions. That’s not really good news. The fact that other governments feel the need to pump money into our economy (thanks, China) means that they recognize the fact that our economies are co dependent upon each other, and that a failure in our economy would have a substantial ripple effect on theirs. I mean, where would China export all their product to if not the U.S.? It really is a global economy these days.
It’s all a vicious cycle. The more you spend, the less you have. The more you spend, the more companies make, the more they are inclined to spend on growth, and the more people are likely to have access to new jobs. New jobs mean more growth in other industries (housing, services, etc). The less you spend, the less everyone has. You spend less, companies have less, do not grow (hoard), begin to cost cut (forcing folks out of jobs), and everything suddenly goes to pot.
The armchair, dilettante economist here (spits out wad o’tobaccy) thinks that we are in for a bit of a hard fall here. Normal people had too much invested in their homes, and not enough in cash reserve (myself included in this lunacy). The gubment loves the weak dollar – it means that all goods manufactured here (the precious few that still are) are cheap cheap cheap and that’s usually an incentive for folks abroad to buy. If people are coming down from Canada to buy luxury cars in the U.S. because they can save $30K…that’s the sign of a REALLY weak dollar. While the weak dollar is great for businesses, and great for the government, is it really that great for the consumer? And once we stop selling the interest on our deficit to other countries, or our currency becomes so devalued that no one wants to buy it, what then? It’s like I’ve always said…how can you owe yourself money?
Anyway, now I’m rambling and have rather lost the plot.
What I’m saying is this: I think we’re headed for a recession. The long predicted housing bust has hurt more people and businesses than predicted. Tighten your belts, folks, and hang onto those wallets. It’s gonna be a long ride.
20070814
Ya know, I owe some apologies, I think. I made a few blog posts about things that were none of my business, really, and I shouldn't have done it. Quite nasty of me, really. Please accept most humble apologies (bowing and scraping as we speak).
Today: totally and completely empty. Wondering why beating self up over events that happened eight years ago, when such things have been mutually forgiven and largely forgotten. Wondering why I spent my night's sleep grinding my teeth.
Bah.
Today: totally and completely empty. Wondering why beating self up over events that happened eight years ago, when such things have been mutually forgiven and largely forgotten. Wondering why I spent my night's sleep grinding my teeth.
Bah.
20070813
Forgiveness
There comes a time in everyone's life where you have to stop carrying around the sins of your past like a piece of sackcloth, smearing yourself with ashes every few months like some ultra penitent Franciscan. I admit quite fully that I am human, that I am not infallible, and that I make mistakes.
I am not the sum of my mistakes, and neither is anyone else.
I do not judge others by their mistakes; what gives you the right to judge me by mine?
The details of my marriage and divorce are things I will never again speak of to another human being. I am fully aware of my own sins, of my ex-husband’s sins, and I do not need to be “pre judged” by anyone else in the future. I am not proud of my marriage, I am not proud of the person I became. By the way, I punish myself enough, thank you, and do not need anyone else’s help in this matter.
Only now have I gotten to a point in life where I feel good about myself. I am relatively content with my house, with myself, with my family, and with my career. I have made peace with my past. It is what it is. And I’m proud of the life I have carved out for myself, issue laden as it is, it is still mine, and I made it for myself.
Ironically, this has taught me that full disclosure of one’s past is going to have negative repercussions no matter whom you tell. It makes you have a lot of faith in humanity, it truly does.
I am not the sum of my mistakes, and neither is anyone else.
I do not judge others by their mistakes; what gives you the right to judge me by mine?
The details of my marriage and divorce are things I will never again speak of to another human being. I am fully aware of my own sins, of my ex-husband’s sins, and I do not need to be “pre judged” by anyone else in the future. I am not proud of my marriage, I am not proud of the person I became. By the way, I punish myself enough, thank you, and do not need anyone else’s help in this matter.
Only now have I gotten to a point in life where I feel good about myself. I am relatively content with my house, with myself, with my family, and with my career. I have made peace with my past. It is what it is. And I’m proud of the life I have carved out for myself, issue laden as it is, it is still mine, and I made it for myself.
Ironically, this has taught me that full disclosure of one’s past is going to have negative repercussions no matter whom you tell. It makes you have a lot of faith in humanity, it truly does.
Animals in Prison
So I went to the aquarium with Mr. Manners this weekend.
Imagine his surprise when he found out that the present his ex girlfriend gave him - a membership to the aquarium - had been transferred to her sister (who doesn't even live in the United States!).
Y'all know that I do not like aquariums, zoos, circuses, etc. I do not like animals in cages, in plexiglass, in wire, etc.
However, except for all the idiots wandering around, I will say that I had a nice time, and that Bernie did a nice job.
Imagine his surprise when he found out that the present his ex girlfriend gave him - a membership to the aquarium - had been transferred to her sister (who doesn't even live in the United States!).
Y'all know that I do not like aquariums, zoos, circuses, etc. I do not like animals in cages, in plexiglass, in wire, etc.
However, except for all the idiots wandering around, I will say that I had a nice time, and that Bernie did a nice job.
20070810
Simply Smashing
The day started off just great.
I went to take the trash out, and do a few little things outside before it got hell hot, and Maddy took my glasses off the bathroom counter and ate them. Not ate them like just gnawed on the plastic. Ate them like ate off all the plastic, popped out a lens, and scratched the lenses so badly they are unuseable. When I saw them on the floor, they looked kinda ok...until I picked them up.
Then I did something I'm not proud of. I had one of what I call "daddy moments". Growing up, my dad had a really scary bad temper, and we were all afraid of making him mad (until we realized it was mostly bluster when we got older - sorry, Dad!). You know, that kind of roaring, throwing things, kicking doors, punching things (not people) kind of angry. I have that temper too, but I try to keep a very tight lid on it because I don't think that is appropriate behavior. Anyhow, when I picked the glasses up, I flipped out. I grabbed Maddy by the scruff and started screeching at her "you are such a bad fucking dog...why do you gotta do this to me?" and spanking her like there was no tomorrow. Now, she doesn't try to wiggle off or run away or bite, she just lays there and takes it. So I let her go and she ran to her bed.
"Why, Mommy, why?" from her little puppy eyes...which made me really just start to sob. And sob.
Little Miss Maddy pops out of her bed and comes over, nuzzles me, and lays on my feet. I love my dog. I was an ass (so was she) and she loves me anyway.
So off to Dr. R's I go; I have to spend $500 on a new pair. I just bought these last October. I'm still pretty mad. I almost got rearended in Dr. R's parking lot (I would have stroked out).
Now, why is it that other people cannot just let one be grumpy when one is grumpy? I'm not necessarily talking about me, but when someone is in a bad mood why is it everyone's first instinct to try and cheer them up? Why? Don't you know that sometimes people just want to be left alone? Solitude isn't a thing to be feared...it is in fact quite lovely. A time for reflection, meditation, or just plain getting things done.
So the next time someone is in a bad mood, for crap's sake stop trying to cheer them up. Ask politely. If they seem uninterested, leave them alone. On behalf of grumpy people everywhere, we thank you for it :-)
I went to take the trash out, and do a few little things outside before it got hell hot, and Maddy took my glasses off the bathroom counter and ate them. Not ate them like just gnawed on the plastic. Ate them like ate off all the plastic, popped out a lens, and scratched the lenses so badly they are unuseable. When I saw them on the floor, they looked kinda ok...until I picked them up.
Then I did something I'm not proud of. I had one of what I call "daddy moments". Growing up, my dad had a really scary bad temper, and we were all afraid of making him mad (until we realized it was mostly bluster when we got older - sorry, Dad!). You know, that kind of roaring, throwing things, kicking doors, punching things (not people) kind of angry. I have that temper too, but I try to keep a very tight lid on it because I don't think that is appropriate behavior. Anyhow, when I picked the glasses up, I flipped out. I grabbed Maddy by the scruff and started screeching at her "you are such a bad fucking dog...why do you gotta do this to me?" and spanking her like there was no tomorrow. Now, she doesn't try to wiggle off or run away or bite, she just lays there and takes it. So I let her go and she ran to her bed.
"Why, Mommy, why?" from her little puppy eyes...which made me really just start to sob. And sob.
Little Miss Maddy pops out of her bed and comes over, nuzzles me, and lays on my feet. I love my dog. I was an ass (so was she) and she loves me anyway.
So off to Dr. R's I go; I have to spend $500 on a new pair. I just bought these last October. I'm still pretty mad. I almost got rearended in Dr. R's parking lot (I would have stroked out).
Now, why is it that other people cannot just let one be grumpy when one is grumpy? I'm not necessarily talking about me, but when someone is in a bad mood why is it everyone's first instinct to try and cheer them up? Why? Don't you know that sometimes people just want to be left alone? Solitude isn't a thing to be feared...it is in fact quite lovely. A time for reflection, meditation, or just plain getting things done.
So the next time someone is in a bad mood, for crap's sake stop trying to cheer them up. Ask politely. If they seem uninterested, leave them alone. On behalf of grumpy people everywhere, we thank you for it :-)
Another worthy article of note:
Thank Psychology Today
"You are not valuing your own self enough to make yourself a full partner to a relationship. That failure to validate yourself is going to undermine any choice you ever make. If you respected yourself more, you would be able to exercise your own judgment—and see that you've limited your possibilities to two men with serious flaws for a relationship. It's almost impossible to build a joint future—the purpose of marriage—with someone who has different views of life than you do, unless you talk those views out thoroughly and can make them mesh in very specific ways."
And from another article, for any women out there who have sat in a relationship or marriage for a long time before deciding to leave:
"The letters make it clear that the women fall for the guys quickly, then spend a long time in struggles to transform their mate before coming to rue their choice of partner."
Thank Psychology Today
"You are not valuing your own self enough to make yourself a full partner to a relationship. That failure to validate yourself is going to undermine any choice you ever make. If you respected yourself more, you would be able to exercise your own judgment—and see that you've limited your possibilities to two men with serious flaws for a relationship. It's almost impossible to build a joint future—the purpose of marriage—with someone who has different views of life than you do, unless you talk those views out thoroughly and can make them mesh in very specific ways."
And from another article, for any women out there who have sat in a relationship or marriage for a long time before deciding to leave:
"The letters make it clear that the women fall for the guys quickly, then spend a long time in struggles to transform their mate before coming to rue their choice of partner."
Mirror Mirror on the Wall
Not that The Mirror is exactly a reputable news site, but I'm attaching excerpts from an article I read today anyway.
Top Ten Passion Killers
" 1 NEVER ARGUING
Couples who don't fall out may look like they have a perfect relationship but in reality the opposite is probably true.
"If you never argue, at least one person's needs aren't being met," says sex and relationship counsellor Denise Knowles.
"This may eventually lead to resentment or emotional distance," explains Denise.
Either way, it doesn't make for satisfying sex because you're not in touch with what you want.
"Think about what you want from your relationship - not just sexually," she says.
"Then suggest doing these things. Look out for local events, classes or activities to inspire you. Take one step at a time."
2 NAME CALLING
Arguing can resolve conflict but do it in the wrong way and you can cause permanent damage.
According to US psychologist Dr John Gottman from Boston University, it takes five positive comments to balance one negative comment such as name-calling.
He and his colleagues listened to a 15-minute conversation between 700 newly-married couples, noting the ratio between negative and positive comments.
Using this 5:1 ratio as a guide, they predicted whether or not the couples would stay together over the next 10 years with startling 94 per cent accuracy.
Denise explains: "When you call someone a name, you're moving away from the issue and attacking them personally.
"Put-downs such as 'fat bitch' are hurtful, never forgotten and unlikely to inspire passion."
3 NO QUALITY TIME
One or both of you work long hours and by the time you've put the kids to bed, you have barely enough energy to watch TV.
"Practicalities get in the way because they're often urgent.
"But if this happens to the exclusion of everything else, it can be a serious passion killer."
Block out time every week for you and your partner to have an uninterrupted hour or so to get back in touch with each other as individuals.
If you can't afford a night out at a fancy restaurant, go for a walk or send the kids on a sleepover, order a takeaway, open a bottle of wine and switch the phone to voicemail.
"Keep the conversation away from anything domestic - this is quality time," says Denise.
4 EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY
It starts as casual flirting at work but soon you find you're looking forward to overtime because your fellow flirtee will be there. You start going for drinks together and even confiding stuff about your personal life.
"It's fine to have friends of the opposite sex but if you get close to someone at the expense of intimacy with your partner, your relationship could become damaged even if you don't have a fullblown affair," warns Denise. "This situation may be the first sign that all isn't well at home."
Think about why it's happened and address any issues with your partner (you don't have to admit you're attracted to someone else).
5 POOR BODY IMAGE
You've recently put on weight. Your partner insists you look great but you hate being seen naked and will do almost anything to avoid sex.
"You may not be able to transform yourself into a supermodel, but there are always things you can do to improve how you look and feel," says Denise.
Set small goals - for instance, a realistic exercise programme that fits in with your lifestyle and will help you tone up.
Buy yourself some flattering underwear, have a makeover and concentrate on your good points.
.......
10 STUCK IN A SEX RUT
When you first met, you couldn't leave each other alone. Now you'd rather go shopping than get it on.
Tracey Cox reckons the main obstacle to sex in long-term relationships is the misguided belief that it has to be a marathon. In her book Quickies (£6.39, Dorling Kindersley) she advises forgetting about orgasm as a goal and making the most of snatched periods of time to build up sexual tension so that when you do finally have sex it'll be explosive.
She also suggests sending sexy texts, having sex in different places, introducing sex toys, new positions and surprising your partner by ditching the passion-killer nightwear in favour of something a little more risque now and again.
This sends the message you think your partner's worth impressing, which makes them feel good so they make the effort back." .....
Top Ten Passion Killers
" 1 NEVER ARGUING
Couples who don't fall out may look like they have a perfect relationship but in reality the opposite is probably true.
"If you never argue, at least one person's needs aren't being met," says sex and relationship counsellor Denise Knowles.
"This may eventually lead to resentment or emotional distance," explains Denise.
Either way, it doesn't make for satisfying sex because you're not in touch with what you want.
"Think about what you want from your relationship - not just sexually," she says.
"Then suggest doing these things. Look out for local events, classes or activities to inspire you. Take one step at a time."
2 NAME CALLING
Arguing can resolve conflict but do it in the wrong way and you can cause permanent damage.
According to US psychologist Dr John Gottman from Boston University, it takes five positive comments to balance one negative comment such as name-calling.
He and his colleagues listened to a 15-minute conversation between 700 newly-married couples, noting the ratio between negative and positive comments.
Using this 5:1 ratio as a guide, they predicted whether or not the couples would stay together over the next 10 years with startling 94 per cent accuracy.
Denise explains: "When you call someone a name, you're moving away from the issue and attacking them personally.
"Put-downs such as 'fat bitch' are hurtful, never forgotten and unlikely to inspire passion."
3 NO QUALITY TIME
One or both of you work long hours and by the time you've put the kids to bed, you have barely enough energy to watch TV.
"Practicalities get in the way because they're often urgent.
"But if this happens to the exclusion of everything else, it can be a serious passion killer."
Block out time every week for you and your partner to have an uninterrupted hour or so to get back in touch with each other as individuals.
If you can't afford a night out at a fancy restaurant, go for a walk or send the kids on a sleepover, order a takeaway, open a bottle of wine and switch the phone to voicemail.
"Keep the conversation away from anything domestic - this is quality time," says Denise.
4 EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY
It starts as casual flirting at work but soon you find you're looking forward to overtime because your fellow flirtee will be there. You start going for drinks together and even confiding stuff about your personal life.
"It's fine to have friends of the opposite sex but if you get close to someone at the expense of intimacy with your partner, your relationship could become damaged even if you don't have a fullblown affair," warns Denise. "This situation may be the first sign that all isn't well at home."
Think about why it's happened and address any issues with your partner (you don't have to admit you're attracted to someone else).
5 POOR BODY IMAGE
You've recently put on weight. Your partner insists you look great but you hate being seen naked and will do almost anything to avoid sex.
"You may not be able to transform yourself into a supermodel, but there are always things you can do to improve how you look and feel," says Denise.
Set small goals - for instance, a realistic exercise programme that fits in with your lifestyle and will help you tone up.
Buy yourself some flattering underwear, have a makeover and concentrate on your good points.
.......
10 STUCK IN A SEX RUT
When you first met, you couldn't leave each other alone. Now you'd rather go shopping than get it on.
Tracey Cox reckons the main obstacle to sex in long-term relationships is the misguided belief that it has to be a marathon. In her book Quickies (£6.39, Dorling Kindersley) she advises forgetting about orgasm as a goal and making the most of snatched periods of time to build up sexual tension so that when you do finally have sex it'll be explosive.
She also suggests sending sexy texts, having sex in different places, introducing sex toys, new positions and surprising your partner by ditching the passion-killer nightwear in favour of something a little more risque now and again.
This sends the message you think your partner's worth impressing, which makes them feel good so they make the effort back." .....
20070809
Friends
A friend and I were chatting, and we got to wondering:
Do you think you subconciously chose your friends because they have something you lack? Are they the check to your balance?
I have friends that are impulsive and social; those of you who know me know that I am NEVER impulsive (I overthink) and I am definitely not social(hermit comes to mind).
I have friends that are serious, quality bargain hunters, while I am defintely not.
See what I'm saying?
WTF Blogger ate this the first time.
Was also looking at trips abroad. The dollar is too weak. I love our current economic policy. Let the dollar stay week, because it encourages exports and sales of US products abroad. Meanwhile, people who want to travel or invest abroad are screwed.
Do you think you subconciously chose your friends because they have something you lack? Are they the check to your balance?
I have friends that are impulsive and social; those of you who know me know that I am NEVER impulsive (I overthink) and I am definitely not social(hermit comes to mind).
I have friends that are serious, quality bargain hunters, while I am defintely not.
See what I'm saying?
WTF Blogger ate this the first time.
Was also looking at trips abroad. The dollar is too weak. I love our current economic policy. Let the dollar stay week, because it encourages exports and sales of US products abroad. Meanwhile, people who want to travel or invest abroad are screwed.
Here is something else to think about:
What I wrote below could happen to you, at any time, at any place. Your life could just about be erased. You could never be heard from again. You could just...disappear?
Think I'm wrong? Think again. If it's easy for someone to steal your identity (hit your mailbox, your trash, rob your house, lift your wallet, phish you) and ruin your life, it is just as easy for some anonymous person/persons to come and whisk you off.
It's a slippery moral slope indeed, sanctioning torture as a government. But then again...who said government existed to be moral? I thought it existed to protect the interests of it's people? You can also make the argument that we should not torture just because our ever shifting and nebulous "enemies" do it...and that by doing it, we lower ourselves to their level. To which I say PSHAW! or perhaps PHOEY! It becomes a matter of splitting a hair. If you accept that taking another human life is wrong, then by extension war must be wrong (regardless of circumstance), therefore self defense is wrong (meek shall inherit, etc), and therefore you should lay down and let things be perpetrated against you.
Right. It's natural to fear death. It's natural to fight back, to stand up for yourself and assert yourself when threatened. 50 years of National Geographic should have taught us all that :-)
BTW, just because I said I agree with it doesn't mean I could do it myself. I would be frighteningly comfortable with the psychological aspects of it, but physical torture, sexual degredation, etc. would not be my cup of tea.
I find it ironic that I'm even having these thoughts. I consider myself a pacifist. I abhor violence. I do not even like boxing. I have only ever hit one person in my life (and I kicked her at that). I am still afraid of guns. I find the root of a modern war or conflict is always about economic gain, and not about an ideal. And yet to stop a war from happening - to stop so called collateral damage where the lives of other entirely innocent people happen to be claimed as we kill each other for whatever flavor we have this month - can one not make a case for SELECTIVELY being a bit persuasive?
Even some of the things I've read I've found disgusting. Modern tools aren't designed to just kill (like the Iron Maiden - ever seen one of those in real life? ugh), they are designed to break both your mind and your body. Waterboarding - strapping someone down and pouring water on their face to simulate drowning. Experts claim that if done properly waterboarding causes no lasting physical damage. If done improperly, the subject can break bones, have brain damage and die. It would be harder to say what it does to someone psychologically, but I've read where it has made people afraid to do simple daily tasks like take a shower. Can you imagine being afraid to take a shower? Ok, yes, I agree - that's a fucking bad thing, and no one should be subjected to that.
It does happen though. We do it to our own people to prepare them in case they are ever captured by enemy forces.
What about sensory deprivation? Is that torture? Some people do it for fun? Extended deprivation of all the senses can literally drive you mad. Wouldn't you break? The minute you saw light, or heard a noise other than the beat of your own heart, which you could feel but not hear, the relief would overwhelm you and you'd feel such gratitude that you would say anything to anyone just to not ever go back in the box.
Like I said: these things don't exactly sit comfortably with me. However...if the lives of 300 children and 50 teachers are at risk due to an impending biological attack, you had better bet that I will find out what I need to know in order to prevent those deaths.
Anyway, sorry, off soapbox.
I'm not offended at anything anyone has to say on this subject. I'm very curious actually to hear other POV's. I'd never really considered a stance on this until this year, except to blanketly say that "torture is wrong".
I've had a rethink.
What I wrote below could happen to you, at any time, at any place. Your life could just about be erased. You could never be heard from again. You could just...disappear?
Think I'm wrong? Think again. If it's easy for someone to steal your identity (hit your mailbox, your trash, rob your house, lift your wallet, phish you) and ruin your life, it is just as easy for some anonymous person/persons to come and whisk you off.
It's a slippery moral slope indeed, sanctioning torture as a government. But then again...who said government existed to be moral? I thought it existed to protect the interests of it's people? You can also make the argument that we should not torture just because our ever shifting and nebulous "enemies" do it...and that by doing it, we lower ourselves to their level. To which I say PSHAW! or perhaps PHOEY! It becomes a matter of splitting a hair. If you accept that taking another human life is wrong, then by extension war must be wrong (regardless of circumstance), therefore self defense is wrong (meek shall inherit, etc), and therefore you should lay down and let things be perpetrated against you.
Right. It's natural to fear death. It's natural to fight back, to stand up for yourself and assert yourself when threatened. 50 years of National Geographic should have taught us all that :-)
BTW, just because I said I agree with it doesn't mean I could do it myself. I would be frighteningly comfortable with the psychological aspects of it, but physical torture, sexual degredation, etc. would not be my cup of tea.
I find it ironic that I'm even having these thoughts. I consider myself a pacifist. I abhor violence. I do not even like boxing. I have only ever hit one person in my life (and I kicked her at that). I am still afraid of guns. I find the root of a modern war or conflict is always about economic gain, and not about an ideal. And yet to stop a war from happening - to stop so called collateral damage where the lives of other entirely innocent people happen to be claimed as we kill each other for whatever flavor we have this month - can one not make a case for SELECTIVELY being a bit persuasive?
Even some of the things I've read I've found disgusting. Modern tools aren't designed to just kill (like the Iron Maiden - ever seen one of those in real life? ugh), they are designed to break both your mind and your body. Waterboarding - strapping someone down and pouring water on their face to simulate drowning. Experts claim that if done properly waterboarding causes no lasting physical damage. If done improperly, the subject can break bones, have brain damage and die. It would be harder to say what it does to someone psychologically, but I've read where it has made people afraid to do simple daily tasks like take a shower. Can you imagine being afraid to take a shower? Ok, yes, I agree - that's a fucking bad thing, and no one should be subjected to that.
It does happen though. We do it to our own people to prepare them in case they are ever captured by enemy forces.
What about sensory deprivation? Is that torture? Some people do it for fun? Extended deprivation of all the senses can literally drive you mad. Wouldn't you break? The minute you saw light, or heard a noise other than the beat of your own heart, which you could feel but not hear, the relief would overwhelm you and you'd feel such gratitude that you would say anything to anyone just to not ever go back in the box.
Like I said: these things don't exactly sit comfortably with me. However...if the lives of 300 children and 50 teachers are at risk due to an impending biological attack, you had better bet that I will find out what I need to know in order to prevent those deaths.
Anyway, sorry, off soapbox.
I'm not offended at anything anyone has to say on this subject. I'm very curious actually to hear other POV's. I'd never really considered a stance on this until this year, except to blanketly say that "torture is wrong".
I've had a rethink.
Representation
Say you are someone taken captive by a government. Say said government whisks you away to a secret facility, where you are stripped, cavity searched, shoved naked into a room, given irregular portions of food at irregular hours, are denied sunlight, are innundated with white noise, are forced to stand for a day, or squat for two, or waterboarded. After a while, you lose track of who you are, or where you are, and your entire world becomes the walls of your cell. The outside world means nothing, and you are entirely dependent upon your captors.
Meanwhile, your family is wondering what happened to you. Where did you go? Where are you? Repeated requests for information both from your government and theirs are met with silence or outright denials. Rumors abound of "housing facilities" in other countries where people who fall into a "gray" status are kept. Is their child there? How would they find out? Could they sue? If they could, who would they sue?
Do you realize at this point that in the eyes of the world at large you no longer exist?
Do you realize that this fate could befall any of us at any moment?
Here is my issue: I support torture. Yes, yes I do. I believe that the application of torture (when carefully applied) can serve the best interests of the public at large. I am perfectly fine with sacrificing the right of the one to protect the rights of the many. Perfectly. I am not naive. The U.S. does torture; we just do not do it domestically. We do it in other countries, or through intermediaries, so at first blush we aren't getting our hands dirty. Don't lie to me and tell me we don't torture. Tell the public the truth - say yes, we torture, and we saved xxx amount of lives last year in a proposed terrorist attack due to information we were able to extract. Don't obscure the truth. Don't pass laws saying "combatants must be treated according to the Geneva Convention" and then by Executive Order sneakily circumvent this by passing your own bill that allows you to continue your offshore information collection programs.
Here are my two challenges: 1) I think everyone, regardless of national origin or religious preference (or plain nuttiness) has the basic right to legal representation. I find it immoral for any government to deny any detainee access to legal counsel. I find it inhumane to deny any detainee access to their families. But how do you allow someone to have legal counsel if that person doesn't technically exist? If the facility in which they are stored (Poland, Egypt, Israel, Mexico, Cuba, Germany, Russia) doesn't exist on paper? If the transport of those non existing people - flight manifests, private and government vehicle mileage reports and satellite tracks, etc. - is deliberately muddied thus obscuring the trail?
Lastly, so you've tortured this person you plucked from the field months ago, and reduced him to a shell of himself. What do you do with him? You can't take him home - he'd talk. You can't release him in a hospitable country...he'd still talk. What do you do?
Of course, knowing us, we'd just outsource his execution.
Meanwhile, your family is wondering what happened to you. Where did you go? Where are you? Repeated requests for information both from your government and theirs are met with silence or outright denials. Rumors abound of "housing facilities" in other countries where people who fall into a "gray" status are kept. Is their child there? How would they find out? Could they sue? If they could, who would they sue?
Do you realize at this point that in the eyes of the world at large you no longer exist?
Do you realize that this fate could befall any of us at any moment?
Here is my issue: I support torture. Yes, yes I do. I believe that the application of torture (when carefully applied) can serve the best interests of the public at large. I am perfectly fine with sacrificing the right of the one to protect the rights of the many. Perfectly. I am not naive. The U.S. does torture; we just do not do it domestically. We do it in other countries, or through intermediaries, so at first blush we aren't getting our hands dirty. Don't lie to me and tell me we don't torture. Tell the public the truth - say yes, we torture, and we saved xxx amount of lives last year in a proposed terrorist attack due to information we were able to extract. Don't obscure the truth. Don't pass laws saying "combatants must be treated according to the Geneva Convention" and then by Executive Order sneakily circumvent this by passing your own bill that allows you to continue your offshore information collection programs.
Here are my two challenges: 1) I think everyone, regardless of national origin or religious preference (or plain nuttiness) has the basic right to legal representation. I find it immoral for any government to deny any detainee access to legal counsel. I find it inhumane to deny any detainee access to their families. But how do you allow someone to have legal counsel if that person doesn't technically exist? If the facility in which they are stored (Poland, Egypt, Israel, Mexico, Cuba, Germany, Russia) doesn't exist on paper? If the transport of those non existing people - flight manifests, private and government vehicle mileage reports and satellite tracks, etc. - is deliberately muddied thus obscuring the trail?
Lastly, so you've tortured this person you plucked from the field months ago, and reduced him to a shell of himself. What do you do with him? You can't take him home - he'd talk. You can't release him in a hospitable country...he'd still talk. What do you do?
Of course, knowing us, we'd just outsource his execution.
20070808
WOW p2
A kind reader did point out to me that there are certain people who like to embrace said words in a bedroom context and find the use of said words rather naughty and thrilling.
Bully for them.
It just makes me think of housewife porn:
"Oh Thaddeus, please thrust your throbbing cock into my moist pussy".
Bully for them.
It just makes me think of housewife porn:
"Oh Thaddeus, please thrust your throbbing cock into my moist pussy".
I read in the paper this morning that the woman (here in Atlanta) who was killed last week along with two of her daughters was beaten to death. Her son and another young male relative are still in the hospital. She was in the U.S. seeking asylum for herself and her children - I believe she was Kenyan, and seeking to prevent her daughters from being forced to undergo female circumcision.
Sunday, I read about an African woman who was raped by a soldier. When he was finished, he put his rifle into her vagina and emptied the cartridge. Not only did she live, she walked for help herself. She now wants to become a nurse.
A retiree kills his wife with a nail gun, and then turns it on himself.
Another woman killed, presumably by a boyfriend, wrapped in sheets and blankets, and left in her apartment, wedged between the bed and the wall. Her head was wrapped in towels.
Shall I continue?
Sunday, I read about an African woman who was raped by a soldier. When he was finished, he put his rifle into her vagina and emptied the cartridge. Not only did she live, she walked for help herself. She now wants to become a nurse.
A retiree kills his wife with a nail gun, and then turns it on himself.
Another woman killed, presumably by a boyfriend, wrapped in sheets and blankets, and left in her apartment, wedged between the bed and the wall. Her head was wrapped in towels.
Shall I continue?
Words O Wisdom
Cunt
Whore
Slut
Bitch
Ever wonder why the worst words you can call someone are all related somehow to being a woman, and are all sexual slurs?
You'll note there are no equivalents that can be directed at men. Calling someone a bastard or an asshole or a cocksucker just doesn't have the same ring.
Ah, two thousand years of women being valued only for their role as sexual and reproductive objects have left us with SUCH a rich vocabulary.
Whore
Slut
Bitch
Ever wonder why the worst words you can call someone are all related somehow to being a woman, and are all sexual slurs?
You'll note there are no equivalents that can be directed at men. Calling someone a bastard or an asshole or a cocksucker just doesn't have the same ring.
Ah, two thousand years of women being valued only for their role as sexual and reproductive objects have left us with SUCH a rich vocabulary.
20070807
Made you Giggle
Courtesy of the NYTimes today:
Thai police who misbehave are forced to wear a FREAKING Hello Kitty Armband!
Thai police who misbehave are forced to wear a FREAKING Hello Kitty Armband!
20070806
Everyone's a Critic
Miss Madeline's taste in literature is developing, it seems.
Today, she informs me that she finds The Bell Jar quite unpalatable.
Indeed, undigestable.
As evidenced by the artfully shredded book all over my living room floor.
Please note that she left the neighboring copy of The Illiad alone.
Today, she informs me that she finds The Bell Jar quite unpalatable.
Indeed, undigestable.
As evidenced by the artfully shredded book all over my living room floor.
Please note that she left the neighboring copy of The Illiad alone.
I really haven't given much thought to the meaning behind my online moniker until...well, just now.
Eliza Dolittle. Portrayed quite beautifully/radiantly by Audrey Hepburn. Cockney flower girl seeks to improve station in life by paying for speech lessons. Rain in Spain and all that. Finds professor of elocution. Learns to speak the proper Kings English. Becomes a tool of the professor's arrogance, and yet still manages to fall in love with him. Has someone fall in love with her that could offer her an escape, and yet turns that down and returns to the professor, who realizes after all that he is in the wrong, and that she is the right one for him. I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face...the way she whistles night and noon...her ups her downs...are second nature to me now...like breathing out and breathing in....
Which brought me to an interesting point: why do we want the people we love to change? Why do we tell ourselves things like "I'd marry him if only he'd (insert here: grow up, get a job, put the seat down, wear matching socks, call his mother, mow the grass)" or say things like "Well, she's great but she's not wife material because (insert here: she's sloppy, she puts the toilet paper on the wrong way, she doesn't like to cook, she wants someone to look after her, she only does laundry once a month, she spends too much money, etc.).
As LG pointed out, the very things that initially attract us to someone end up being the things that we MOST want to change. Why is that?
Being a pop culture whore today (please note frequent use of the word doesn't disempower it), I conclude with a statement from a world famous, profound mariner:
"I am what I am" (toot toot!)
Eliza Dolittle. Portrayed quite beautifully/radiantly by Audrey Hepburn. Cockney flower girl seeks to improve station in life by paying for speech lessons. Rain in Spain and all that. Finds professor of elocution. Learns to speak the proper Kings English. Becomes a tool of the professor's arrogance, and yet still manages to fall in love with him. Has someone fall in love with her that could offer her an escape, and yet turns that down and returns to the professor, who realizes after all that he is in the wrong, and that she is the right one for him. I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face...the way she whistles night and noon...her ups her downs...are second nature to me now...like breathing out and breathing in....
Which brought me to an interesting point: why do we want the people we love to change? Why do we tell ourselves things like "I'd marry him if only he'd (insert here: grow up, get a job, put the seat down, wear matching socks, call his mother, mow the grass)" or say things like "Well, she's great but she's not wife material because (insert here: she's sloppy, she puts the toilet paper on the wrong way, she doesn't like to cook, she wants someone to look after her, she only does laundry once a month, she spends too much money, etc.).
As LG pointed out, the very things that initially attract us to someone end up being the things that we MOST want to change. Why is that?
Being a pop culture whore today (please note frequent use of the word doesn't disempower it), I conclude with a statement from a world famous, profound mariner:
"I am what I am" (toot toot!)
20070802
I have to think that out of extreme misery comes things of extreme joy. You know, Van Gogh was definitely gaga, and yet he managed to create some of the most beautiful and enduring works of art known to us today. Tchaikosvky (not bothering with spellcheck, sorry) was a depressed, gay bastard....but he sure did write some lovely music. Beethoven was depressed and partially deaf, but managed to write what he only could hear in his head. I don't think Hemingway was particularly happy either - now, I'm not too fond of his works, but arguably he's one of the American "greats".
How does one channel that blackness of emotion into something creative? I mean, it eats at you, doesn't it? If you are a creative person, and you have such issues, do you have to create in order to keep that blackness at bay?
Just curious.
How does one channel that blackness of emotion into something creative? I mean, it eats at you, doesn't it? If you are a creative person, and you have such issues, do you have to create in order to keep that blackness at bay?
Just curious.
It's a really bad idea to let me go to bed angry or upset. I tend to stew on it all night, and whatever was making me angry the night/day before just upsets me all the more.
You know, time teaches you to be a flexible person. I don't mean touching your toes, I mean, mentally and emotionally flexible. You learn to apologize and mean it, you learn to admit it when you are wrong, and to do it with grace and style. I admit it when I'm wrong (when I realize it), and if I was horrid, I apologize. It's a simple formula for keeping the peace, be it with friendships, relationships, family or whatever. Veerrrryyy simple, and learned at the parental knee. It's not a weakness; it's a sign of maturity.
Why don't some people get it?
You know, time teaches you to be a flexible person. I don't mean touching your toes, I mean, mentally and emotionally flexible. You learn to apologize and mean it, you learn to admit it when you are wrong, and to do it with grace and style. I admit it when I'm wrong (when I realize it), and if I was horrid, I apologize. It's a simple formula for keeping the peace, be it with friendships, relationships, family or whatever. Veerrrryyy simple, and learned at the parental knee. It's not a weakness; it's a sign of maturity.
Why don't some people get it?
Life Goes On, Yeah
La da da da life goes on!
Happy Thursday! Seems there never is enough time in the week to do anything these days, least of all time to take out for myself. How did that happen?
Nothing exciting happening in la la land. The normal SOSDD rules apply. Normal strife, work b/s (how is it when you take a vacation day and end up working your boss doesn't say "You know, Eliza, since you worked all day, this day doesn't COUNT as a vacation day?" - Just Curious). We've finally gotten to the part of the database class that I should be good at - the part where you do something instead of sitting around talking about freaking theory. The professional communications class? Oh, 100, of course. *yawn* No mid terms in either class, which is good...otherwise I'd be tied to the house this weekend.
And in relation to retail therapy - I was right. Mall, Money - everything sucks! I found one item that I really, really liked....and I may spend lots of money on a good Coach bag, but ask me to spend $130 on a sweater and I balk. Weird, I know. The fall stuff isn't really "in" yet...and what I saw wasn't impressive. Why is there no stuff for in between people? I swear, it's either all tarty teenage clothes or really fussy middle age mom clothes. Can't I be appealing and well dressed and thirty three? Please don't say Ann Taylor - I hate AT. Stodgy. Banana, yes...and when I can afford it...Anthropologie! Lovely things in there, simply lovely. Otherwise, INC from Macy's and an assorted hodge podge of stuff. I think I have some pants from the Limited; for some reason I have bright pink cords...don't know what possessed me....I don't even like pink.
Anyway, quite rambling. Don't want to go to work. Want to stay in bed and work on the house and do a ton of nothing today. Haven't read a book in two weeks. Most unlike me.
Happy Thursday! Seems there never is enough time in the week to do anything these days, least of all time to take out for myself. How did that happen?
Nothing exciting happening in la la land. The normal SOSDD rules apply. Normal strife, work b/s (how is it when you take a vacation day and end up working your boss doesn't say "You know, Eliza, since you worked all day, this day doesn't COUNT as a vacation day?" - Just Curious). We've finally gotten to the part of the database class that I should be good at - the part where you do something instead of sitting around talking about freaking theory. The professional communications class? Oh, 100, of course. *yawn* No mid terms in either class, which is good...otherwise I'd be tied to the house this weekend.
And in relation to retail therapy - I was right. Mall, Money - everything sucks! I found one item that I really, really liked....and I may spend lots of money on a good Coach bag, but ask me to spend $130 on a sweater and I balk. Weird, I know. The fall stuff isn't really "in" yet...and what I saw wasn't impressive. Why is there no stuff for in between people? I swear, it's either all tarty teenage clothes or really fussy middle age mom clothes. Can't I be appealing and well dressed and thirty three? Please don't say Ann Taylor - I hate AT. Stodgy. Banana, yes...and when I can afford it...Anthropologie! Lovely things in there, simply lovely. Otherwise, INC from Macy's and an assorted hodge podge of stuff. I think I have some pants from the Limited; for some reason I have bright pink cords...don't know what possessed me....I don't even like pink.
Anyway, quite rambling. Don't want to go to work. Want to stay in bed and work on the house and do a ton of nothing today. Haven't read a book in two weeks. Most unlike me.
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