Ain't That Some Shit

A while ago, my family rented "Roman Holiday" with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. We had never seen it before and we all agreed it was marvelous -- it was made back when movies still showed depth of character. Watching it made us long for more old movies, so when I went back to the movie store on Friday, I picked up "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" starring Spencer Tracy, Sidney Poitier, and Katharine Hepburn. Hubby hadn't seen it yet and even though I had, I was completely amenable to watching it again; I remembered loving it the first time.

Well, incase you haven't seen "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner," I need to tell you what it's about so that I can explain why a particular part almost made me laugh out loud. Don't worry. I won't give anything away; although once I tell you the premise, you'll guess how it ends.

Poitier plays a doctor while Tracy and Hepburn play the adoring parents of a 23 year old girl named Joey. Joey comes home from a trip abroad and announces that she's getting married to the doctor. This movie was completely ahead of its time but was so brilliantly written that its message still resonates in current affairs where marriage is in question -- class, sexuality, race(still) -- and Sidney Poitier talks about this in his book, The Measure of a Man: A Spititual Autobiography.

Aw, their kid turned out cute!

The part that I found funny was when John Prentice (Poitier) says that his fiancé believed their children could become Presidents of the United States. Did I mention that they met in, and traveled back together from, Hawaii? <raising eyebrows significantly> I wonder if little Barack watched this as a kid and thought, "Yes, we can!"

Just Love

My husband and I are quickly approaching 13 years of marriage. We were recently looking back at the vows taken in the backyard of our house, repeated after some preacher-man we hired at the last minute, whom we asked NOT to deliver a traditional union but did anyway. I don't think that I ever deliberately broke my vows, but I certainly never intended to serve and obey my husband; sometimes those were just the outcomes of a loving relationship for both of us. Whatever we promised, we have succeeded in making each other completely happy for the last 13 years. I wonder if anyone ever takes those vows seriously or if anyone actually believes that vowed love, sworn across the board, could ever be as good as randomly volunteered devotion.

CyniSister 20, Hubby 19

PillHead

Wife: "Not tonight honey."

Husband: "Do you have a headache again?"

Wife: "Oh no. I really want to, but I'm worried"

Husband: "about what?"

Wife: "Well, we've had sex three times this week already, and how do we know how much is too much?"

Husband: "Too much sex?!"

Wife: "No. Too much semen for my pill!"

***I'm still finding it fascinating that Rush Limbaugh can confuse sex with pain and birth control with Oxycontin. FYI, Women don't build tolerances to birth control the way you did to Oxycontin Mr. Limbaugh.***

Sit Back and Be Atheist

If I were a reporter, these are the types of questions I would set out to have answered.

"Is it true that Mormons are taught not to masturbate?"
"Where does the Mormon religion stand on wet dreams?"
"Do Mormons believe that our arms were made that length unintentionally?"
"What's worse, looking at the bra rack at target or shaking it more than twice?"


Did you all hear that the Liberty Christian University was pissed off to have a commencement speech delivered by Romney. It's nice to see the religions fighting amongst themselves once again. Don't forget the big guns guys! Remember: if your god didn't believe in war, he wouldn't have invented it!

Corporate America Strikes Again

You know! I would fucking love to stop writing about politics for even one week, but I can't sit here and pretend that it is not effecting me, everyday of my life! We are a lower/middle-class household, but we are not stupid, lazy or otherwise impaired; yet it has become almost impossible for us to be upwardly mobile due to these selfish, blood-sucking corporations.

We see an ad for a home. It is sitting on 5 acres of land. The land is neglected and the home is a DUMP -- we're talking holes in the walls, no flooring, no heating and air, flooded crawl space, broken windows -- DUMP. However, this is a reasonably priced dump. The land itself is probably worth just under the asking price, so the shitty house is thrown in as a hey-at-least-its-got-a-roof incentive. Not bad. Whoever buys it is going to need to like the country, and making repairs.

Here we are, in a little house that we have been making repairs on since we bought it over 6 years ago. We've also been racking up a decent credit score and our kids are at the perfect age to run and play on some acreage while we fix up a house.

"So, why not buy it?" you ask.

Because those greedy fucking banks never just take what they need to get rid of a property. Instead of putting it up for sale they have opened an online bid for it. So, now the property will be bid on and instead of an upwardly mobile (and adorable, I might say) family of four moving into it, loving it and making an investment out of it; some landlord will buy it as his/her 5th property for more than it's worth and overcharge his/her lower/middle-class tenants. THAT or some stupid schmuck will put in the winning bid and have to take out a loan for more money than that dump is worth only to go broke making repairs and end up defaulting on it again.

FURTHERMORE Simply putting this house on the market would have created enough of a bidding war if it's worth more than they are asking. All it takes is two good-credit-score, upwardly-mobile families to want the damn thing. Then, they would have had competing bids. What they are doing by forcing it to be bid only, is making it accessible only to those with disposable income. For that, I want to vomit.

Do you see how greed is ruining our nation?

Good. Carry on.

Are We ALL on Candid Camera?

So my class on Mondays is from 11am to 12:15pm. It's 75 minutes. We've been over this, for most of my classmates that's 75 minutes of pure, unadulterated Facebook time. For me, it's usually a lot of searching for hidden meanings and paper topics while telling myself that I don't need to pee -- I drink a lot of water. But today, it was just pure entertainment for the last 20 minutes.
Almost exactly at 11:55am, a young lady peaked through the window in the door and having spotted our professor, walked in. None of us recognized her, but the instructor did and assuming she was from our period and not the next one, he immediately handed her a pile of our papers and told her to find any that belonged to her and to "have a seat for goodness sake." She looked around and, not recognizing us, mumbled something about being early before sitting down very awkwardly, handing back the papers and fiddling with her iPhone. We all tried desperately to listen to the lecture but everyone was preoccupied with wondering how long it would take her to excuse herself. She never did, the professor never said anything and we all just continued to look at each other and the clock in completely entertained bewilderment. I really just live for days like this.

Me-Time

Hubby's been sick, so going to bed early has been easy; he doesn't feel like staying up and I fall asleep after 5 minutes of reading. So, I go to bed at 9:20, fall asleep at 9:25 and DING! I'm awake at 6:30, ready to start my day. Until 7am when the kids get up and start asking me for time, energy, attention, supervision, food, help, discipline, and chocolate, then I'm ready to sink back into a coma. I really just like time to myself sometimes. I wonder what is worse, sleep deprivation or lack of me-time.

Almost five years ago, in the fall of 2007, I had a 2-1/2 year-old boy, a 1 year-old girl, and had decided to finish my associates at the local community college. The kids were experiencing their first daycare and I was feeling more freedom - and subsequent guilt - than I had in 3 years. I was still a smoker at the time, a fact that I find harder and harder to believe as time goes by, and money was so extremely scarce that I often questioned my decision to attend classes. Gas, daycare, books, tuition... how selfish of me to want an education. I almost cried every morning that I said good-bye to my children, but then again, I almost cried every morning before that, when I woke up with two children and nowhere to go.

It was November of that year that I quit smoking. I'll never forget it. When you're a smoker, sore throats and hacking coughs are everyday occurrences, so you never really know when you are on the verge of getting sick. But those particular days in November of 2007, I came down with what I recognized as Bronchitis. It was bad and I did something so incredibly stupid that it bares repeating. On the second day of my feeling like flattened, scraped and bagged roadkill, I realized that I was also running a fever. I had only just dropped my kids off at daycare and was heading to my first class. I knew that I should not go in. I knew that I needed a doctor and some antibiotics, but I went to class anyway. My school and the kids daycare was 30 minutes away from Wichita. My doctor was in Wichita. If I decided to go to the doctor, I would not make it to the appointment and the pharmacy in enough time to pick up my kids from daycare. Also, because I was getting tuition assistance, I couldn't have the kids in daycare any day that I didn't go to class. I still can't believe what an archaic system they have to "help" returning adults. If I wanted to see a doctor, I would have to make an appointment, keep the kids out of school and spend the day driving two toddlers around town to the appointment, to get my meds, and then spend a not-so-relaxing afternoon caring for them and myself. I simply didn't have the energy. In those days, it was easier to go to school, even dog-shit sick. I loaded myself up on Tylenol, went to class and spent the rest of my time in the second-story library, on a couch, sucking on whatever warm liquids I could find enough coins to buy. For three days straight, between short naps in the library, I read required material, worked on homework and monitored my fever making sure to take a dose of Tylenol, 30 minutes before picking up the kids so that I could make it home with as little pain as possible. I desperately hoped no one would notice how sick I was. I was embarrassed at being so stingy that I didn't want to pay the money for a doctor and a prescription, and I felt incredibly guilty for not wanting to take care of my kids while I was sick.

The first time the Tylenol kicked in, I tried to smoke a cigarette, but my throat felt like it would jump out of my neck and head for the hills. I didn't dare try again for the next three days until my fever broke and when it was over I no-longer had a nicotine addiction. Crazy how that works. I just figured, well, that's an extra $30 a week if I never go back. So, I kept the open pack of cigarettes in my purse, until one day I missed the space and moved them to my glove compartment, then to my desk drawer at home. They stayed in my desk for about a year, where I snuck a cigarette every-so-often and more often when my Grandmother was dying, until I finally decided that that was the old me and pitched them into the trashcan.

One year later, I was at the university getting straight A's and changing my major to English Literature. For the record, I haven't had bronchitis again since.

Showing a Little NIPP

I took some time off from this blog and I'm not sorry. It's bothering me that when I write about politics, I get tons of readers and when I write about what matters, I don't. Don't get me wrong. I have opinions about politics and I believe that they do matter but politics only matters when it means forming an opinion about an issue and discussing the issue in it's entirety to come to a conclusion that we can all agree on. "Politics" the way it is practiced here, in the U.S. and especially every four years around election time, is bullshit. That's not politics. That's a contest of who can be the bigger dick and the best liar.

I would like to see a new party emerge in the U.S. and call it the NIPP party -- Not Interested in Partisan Politics. At debates, you are only allowed to discuss issues. In fact, I would love to see electrodes hooked up to the candidates to give a little shock when anyone says, "Conservatives," "Liberals," "Democrats," "Republicans," "Left," "Right," "Tea-Party," "Us," or "Them" (let me know if I left something out). I also think they should get shocked if they say anything negative about another politician. Elections are supposed to be about the citizens and the policies that will effect their lives, making this about who's the bigger asshole only makes me want to shove hot pokers up all their asses!

I'm going to give you an example with the hottest-button issue I can think of.

Abortion

I do not believe that anyone is Pro-Abortion, because I have never met anyone who is. I, for example, am Anti-Abortion/Pro-Choice. I cannot imagine any reason why anyone would WANT to terminate a pregnancy, but I can imagine circumstances in which someone might NEED to, and you can too, therefore our deepest condolences should be extended to those families. I can also imagine a world in which many options are offered as alternatives to ever having to make such a difficult decision. Some of these options come in the form of Condoms, Birth Control, Morning-after pills, Adoption, etc. But I can also think of many options that should never become necessary for women who are getting no other help and those include, poverty, forced miscarriages, abuse, or death. 

In an issue like abortion we should look at what makes abortions unnecessary and what reasons one might seek out an abortion as a solution to an unavoidable problem. Those should be our pros and cons. "Pros" would be all the ways in which we make abortions unnecessary and "cons" would be those unavoidable problems. Then our goal would be to eliminate those unavoidable problems and make as many problems as possible, avoidable. This is something that everyone can get behind and humans that find themselves bent towards feelings of extreme adversity to abortion should pool their resources into the organizations that help prevent the need for them. These organizations would help educate, prescribe birth control, hand out condoms or aid parents in finding adoption families as well as those that develop scientific studies to help the physical and psychological issues behind unwanted pregnancies. The bottom line is that making something illegal has never been successful in preventing it, but making something unnecessary works every time.

Let me reiterate: Those LEAST in favor of abortions should be those MOST in favor of their prevention.

You see. This issue is not about us and them, left and right. It is about life and death, necessity and prevention. Let us all try to change our vocabulary and then change our perception of each other and the issues.

NIPPed in the bud! You're welcome.

suck it up.

been writing for the last four days. Still writing. due tomorrow. suck it up and move on!

Needs/Wants

Ugh!

It's Saturday. 

My house is a mess.

Veggies need chopping.

A paper needs to be written.

Closests need to be cleaned out.

A kitchen needs to be straightened.

...

I guess I need to get out of my pajamas.

Incoherent Mumbler

On any given day, a man walks around campus, near the gym, with a wide open bag on his back and a trash grabber in his hand. He walks around collecting trash, from the grass, from the sidewalk and from the little metal trash canisters attached to the light posts. While he does this he grumbles to himself about any number of things. Once I heard him complaining about litter-bugs and I almost joined the conversation; it is a little ridiculous that there's enough trash on our campus to make him feel needed. Yesterday he was there again only this time he was more informative than angry. As I walked by this is what I heard, "Tomorrow is Thursday -- then Friday -- the thirteenth" then I was out of earshot. I looked at my iPod and sure enough, this Friday is the thirteenth! Thank you trash collector!

Speaking of incoherent mumblers, I found myself involved in a political discussion with a gentleman who actually said that if people don't have health insurance they should die, that welfare recipients are lazy moochers, and that Mexicans are wrong to try and preserve their culture in our country. Mostly I was fascinated by this specimen. I asked tons of questions, like: Do you know any Mexicans, welfare recipients or uninsured ill people? His answer was, "No," but that didn't matter to him. I briefly pointed out that I like to keep my wild assumptions about large groups of people limited, at least, to things that I have personally witnessed; but alas, I was still curious. I asked him how he could rationalize arresting those who have the ability to prevent a suicide and don't, but not arresting a doctor who has taken an oath to give medical attention where there is a need, but doesn't because of insurance? He had no answer. I asked him if he was aware that the majority of welfare recipients worked 40 hours a week making minimum wage? He was unaware of that. Then, just to be ironic, I told him I agree about the Mexicans. I told him I was going straight home to send smoke signals arranging a PowWow so I could spread the word. Of course, I'm not Native American, but since I'm living on their land it would be wrong of me to spread the word via this blog, wouldn't it? He understood the reference, but saw it as unrelated.

All-in-all, it was a good conversation and it made me realize something very important: being an idiot is one thing; knowing you're an idiot is another; but witnessing and idiot realizing he/she is an idiot, now that is pure gold!

Wild, Wild West!

I developed a case of the giggles when this video came on in the locker room. It's so horribly rawesome!

Zero-Visibility

The drive to school this morning was through zero-visibility fog. It was so bad that, at one point, I was stopped at a light that I had to assume was red because the four cars in front of me were stopped there too.  I had to trust that someone up ahead would know when it turned green, because I sure as hell wouldn't.

We had a cat adopt us last week. He just showed up on our doorstep last Thursday. Actually he was looking in the kids' window and me-owing when we got home that day. He lets Little Woman pick him up and carry him around like a log of firewood, he purrs at the drop of a hat and he's feisty with the dogs and toy mice. So far, he's perfect, now if only I could convince him to shit in the toilet. I'm already sick of the kitty litter smell.

So sorry to have abandoned my post for four days. You know how it is. Busy.

He loves me.

SaintHOOD

I'm really enjoying my writing this semester. Today I have two 2-3 page papers to write. I would say that it is equivalent to a 6 page paper, but it just isn't. I have to support two very separate ideas in a few words instead of supporting one big idea spread out over 6 pages worth of words. I GOT THIS!  Actually the second paper is a re-writing of one of Chaucer's Tales. And it would be my pleasure to re-write it because the tale itself is horrid -- sorry GC. In his version a little Christian boy is killed by a Jewish person who is portrayed as maniacal and is then pulled apart by horses. W T F?! I intend to copy the story's sequence perfectly only make it about a little heart patient who's machines get turned off by the Catholic Hospital's administration because the bills can't be paid. However, believing that an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind, I think I'll allow my character and the abusers to live. I don't believe in sainthood.


OH MAH BUDDHA!!! I just had an epiphany -- NUNS WEAR HOODS!!! They were the original threatening hoodie people! tsk tsk, according to Geraldo, they are just asking to be shot.

Lockdown

We had a "Lockdown" drill at the middle school today. Apparently now schools practice drills for the occasion when a shooter comes calling. I can officially say that that is something we definitely did not do in my school days. I think we should just teach combat as a requirement. I mean, if lax firearm regulations don't lead to people shooting each other -- oh so apparent by today's drill requirements -- then it is only reasonable to believe that teaching combat wouldn't encourage fighting, right? Today's lesson plan: The Death Punch.

Good Night

Well World, I'll make this quick 'cause I'm going to be in 15 minutes. I've been extremely tired and I realized this weekend that I binge when I'm tired. I was perpetually munchy this past week and after pigging out on Saturday's dinner, I realized that it was all due to being tired. Duh! How did the human race not conceive of this little notion half a century ago? When the body is tired, the body needs energy; so it sends the signal, but what could be achieved by either resting or eating we associate directly with eating, since our bodies aren't conditioned (most of ours aren't) to associate rest with energy. And now to quote one of Hubby's Co-workers, "I'm a fuckin' GENIUS!"

good night.

Bleep in Their Hands!

Welcome to DIRTY SUNDAY

I have taken an old post and edited it, replacing a word or group of words with a "BLEEP!", to make it sound more dirty than it was intended.  Enjoy!

from Luck-o-the-Irish

As we were leaving the second floor, some guys in swim trunks and open shirts got on the elevator with Bleep! in their hands. They were too tan for March and one was wearing jewelry. Right away they started and dominated a conversation about my Bleep! We were just able to communicate our confusion when the elevator door opened to the tenth floor and the gentleman with the gold chain held it there to tell us how he would be taking the Bleep! to Oneok Stadium the following day. He practically demanded we come down and take a picture with it. The doors closed leaving us with the hum of the ice machine, the smell of liquor, and the reverberating sound of Bleep! 

Needless to say, the Stadium was within walking distance from the hotel and the guys from the elevator recognized us and remembered that I am from St. Louis. They gave me a tour of the Bleep!, donning white gloves to turn it around and show me the Tiffany stamp on it's bottom edge. I'm not actually a fan of Bleep! but I am a huge fan of all things shiny. And this Bleep! was very shiny!