ProTip: You're not my friend; I don't care what you think.

Haters gonna hate and hate s'more.

Sadly it is true.  This happens to the rest of you, right?  Like, I don't have a disproportionate amount of haters, do I?  Impossible.

Wise friends have told me before that you know you're living a good life if you have haters.  Maybe that is just a nice thing to say, and it is nice to hear.  And maybe there's truth to it.  Hopefully I do have both nice, wise friends and the truth is that I'm doing more shit good than bad.

Yet bitches are throwing shade up in here.  Trying to bring me down.  But doesn't Yoda say, "Do or do not.  There is no try."  Or Captain Kirk.  Captain Crunch?

First of all, bringing me down accomplishes what?  Nothing.

Haters need proof?  Here it is.

You're not the first to try.  Ones before you skulked away with their time and energy utterly wasted and that will be your fate, too.

Second of all, scroll up to where I said, "First of all."

LoL!  XD

Listen, I know I'm weird.  I'm weird and I break social norms as if I was raised on Mars (kind of true, strange parents) and that is off-putting for certain people.  But it doesn't mean I'm an asshole.

I understand it may be awkward when I talk openly and non-negatively about my size and my general self.  As a fat girl from the Midwest, I'm expected to hate my body and shame myself and feel ugly, dumb, lazy, etc. etc. etc.  I don't though.  And I'm not going to start.

The beauty of free will is that you don't have to agree with me.  But if you think I'm hideous, don't expect me to agree with you.

The fact that I have higher self-esteem than you isn't my fault.  It also isn't my problem.  Again, not being an asshole here.  Those are just facts.

Srsly, what do you want me to do about it?  I can't make you like yourself.

How do I know that you don't?  Because you're fucking with me.  People who like themselves don't fuck with other people unprovoked.  Because behavioral fucking science, that's why.

So yeah, if you could put your energy into your own beeswax, it would be a better use of your resources.  That's some pretty generous advice considering I don't give a fuck if you waste your time or not.  Can we call that a coin in the leave-Buffie-alone bank?

Now get out of my way, I have things to accomplish.

The family you choose

Aunt Barbara and Mr. Buffie
September 2002

Is this unique to my family or do you have relatives who don't share your DNA but they're in your heart in the same place as someone who does?

My mum and dad used to tell me that we had two kinds of family members, the ones we're born with and the ones we choose.  And it wasn't uncommon in my family to like the chosen ones more than a couple of the blood relatives.  (They know who they are...)

I have the extremely good fortune to have five aunts - the best in the world, actually.  Three of them are my mum's sisters and two of them are my mum's BFFs.

The horrible reality of life is that it ends.  I lost my Aunt Merilyn in August of 2001.  Last night my Aunt Barbara passed away.

My Aunt Barbara had been struggling with 'a touch of the emphysema' for a while.  She recently got sick with the flu and it was too much for her body to take.  Mum said I should be comforted that she isn't suffering anymore.  I'm not comforted though.  I'm eaten up with self pity because my heart is shattered.  Broken beyond repair.

I don't mean to sound insane but people like Aunt Barbara are supposed to live forever.

Aunt Barbara was the kind of person that if you were going to visit, she was going to feed you.  A lot.  Aunt Barbara gave me my first grown up cookbook.  Between her and my mother, I should have hella mad domestic skillz but I inexplicably have none.

She was determined to teach me to make basic sugar cookies once.  I remember thinking it was the most labor-intensive thing I had ever done.  I was covered in flour and had practically destroyed her tiny kitchen but she didn't give up.  She even tried teaching me how to make icing.  We ended up with probably 10 edible cookies, a couple of which you could almost tell were supposed to be Christmas trees, but that was more a credit to the green frosting than anything I did.

And my Aunt Barbara loved me anyway.  I think she loved me almost as much as my mum does.  I know she did.

Every stupid school play, she was there, even if I only had one line.  If I was sick, she was calling every day to talk to mum and check on me.

When my mum was staying in Wichita to take care of her sister after she had a stroke, Aunt Barbara was constantly stopping by to make sure dad and I were fed, clothed and loved.  I was in my late teens, capable of taking care of myself and dad for a few weeks.  But Aunt Barbara couldn't be convinced without putting her eyes on us and checking the cabinets to make sure there was food in the house.

One of her sons did inherit her culinary magic and it was at his restaurant that Mr. Buffie proposed to me.  Aunt Barbara knew I was getting engaged weeks before I did and I'm sure it took every ounce of willpower she had not to tell me what was going to happen.

She didn't have much and didn't want for anything either.  She believed in God and Heaven and she lived her life to make the world a better place.  She accomplished that.  In a million ways.

In her eyes, everyone deserved love and she gave it more freely than anyone else I know.  She didn't care about your politics, whether you smoked, drank or swore.  It didn't matter to her if you went to church or not.  She wasn't impressed by executive titles or fat bank accounts.  If you were a good egg, she could tell and she would treat you with the same kindness, patience and love she gave her own children.

I don't believe in God or Heaven but at times like this, I admit I feel conflicted.  I'm as passionate about my atheism as my spiritual friends are about their faiths.  And feel truly lucky to have friends who are live-and-let-live kinds of people.

There's no way Aunt Barbara can just be gone.  I can't fathom it.  To think there's nothing left?  No.  That's unacceptable.  She would have agreed.  If she believed she would go to Heaven, then she did.  And it's fine if I want to think about her that way.  And if it's not fine, I don't care.  I'm still going to think about her that way.

Yes, she'll live on in my memory, in my heart.  And I'll have to figure out the other ways she'll live on but I will figure it out.  I know she's gone and I can still feel how much she loved me.

Right now I'm wallowing in sadness.  She'd be disappointed in me if I kept this up for too long but it's going to be one of those nights where I finally get calmed down then in the quiet, my mind goes to painful places and I'm sobbing again.

Death is the end of life but is it final?  Don't ask me.  I have no idea.  Aunt Barbara would say it's the beginning of a new life in a better place.  I hope that's true because she deserves it.

Old ghosts in a boat

http://sooperdave.deviantart.com/art/fuck-you-kitty-198707722

Back when Mr. Buffie and I first moved to KC (he technically moved /back/ to KC) we went to work for a long-established production company whose owner died without a will and the company was purchased out of probate by an investor who turned out to be a garden variety con man.  To give a very short version, after 6 weeks of bounced paychecks, I had enough gas one morning to get to work but not enough to get home.

That day, I drove to the office, sat in my car in the parking lot and cried for a while.  I had only been here for a year and suddenly we were, for all intents and purposes, unemployed and financially ruined.  I felt alone.  My family and friends seemed further away than they ever had before.  Life fell apart and we have never fully recovered from it.

Instead of working yet one more day for free, I went to the corporate office (I had enough gas to get from Downtown KC to the Plaza) where the “CEO” was.  The temp/receptionist wouldn’t let me past the lobby and the “CEO” wasn’t about to come out there and talk to me, knowing he owed me money.  So I told her I would be squatting until someone gave me enough money to leave.  And squat I did.

My mobile phone bill was paid up for at least another month (unfortunately for the “CEO”) so I called a local reporter and advised I had a decent business news lead.  The reporter told me to stay put and someone would meet me there to talk about a possible story.

While I was squatting, I made small talk with the receptionist, that’s how I found out she was a temp from an agency.  I told her that was good because if she’s on the “CEO’s” payroll, she’s giving away her time.  She understood my situation but she had to follow orders so he wouldn’t tell the agency bad things about her.  Fair enough.

Hours passed and there wasn't jack shit to do but look out the window, sneak as far down the hall as I could when the receptionist wasn't looking and noticing what a fucking mess had been made of what used to be a nice office.  The majority of it was a construction site where everyone went home one night and never came back.  There were parts of cubes, desks, a random dust-covered chair under light fixtures that were about 50% installed and dangling from the ceiling with wires sticking out.

Mr. Buffie was back at the studio finishing up a refresh on his resume and demo reel and told me he would meet me there as soon as he was done.

Finally, the “CEO” had enough of me in his unpaid-for lobby.  At times, I admit, there was a touch of acting out, knocking on the wall, letting him know I was still there and still had bounced paychecks with his signature on them and how I parked next to his Mercedes SUV and could he give me a ride because I had no way to get home other than my own two feet.  I might have made a comment about putting a bit in his mouth and riding him horseback down I-70, but I don’t recall…

His ‘assistant’ R.J. shows up.  And I know this can’t be good.  Several other people tangled with R.J. before and something about R.J.’s 6’4” frame and 350 lbs of muscle made them back down in a hurry.  But I wasn’t that girl.  I was broke, desperate, a little stupid maybe.  I was nose to chest with a wall of big, angry felon (assault conviction, did time in Leavenworth) who was about to literally pick me up and throw my ass out into the middle of 47^th Street.

I can’t adequately describe how perfect the timing was but just as R.J. and I began to physically altercate, Mr. Buffie came through the door and between the two of us, R.J. was removed from my three feet of personal space.

The story made the news and the "CEO" was exposed.  The company was officially dark the next day, partly because the sheriff came in and seized our equipment.  Too many creditors had filed court documents demanding it because, well, con men aren’t exactly known for paying their bills.

With help from the Jackson County prosecutor’s bad checks division, I recovered all but about $1,000 of what was owed to me and it took them almost a year to get as much as they did but I’m so thankful for them.  Other employees didn’t fare so well.  Not my fault they don't know how to deal with a bad check.  Or so you'd think.  But you'd be wrong.

In fact, I find out last week, nearly 10 years later, that several of those employees BLAME ME for the company closing.

Just like me, these people also had SIX WEEKS worth of bounced paychecks yet the company closing was my fault because I went to the “CEO’s” office and when he wouldn't pay me enough to even drive home, I called the local media.  That’s what closed a 25-year-old business… an office assistant/stylist demanding a month and a half of salary owed to her.  I sank the ship.

In the extremely rare event that any of you come across this blog and you recognize yourself, eat a sack full of dicks.

You had plenty of time to prepare or are you so delusional that you thought if you just kept showing up, the creditors would go away and money would magically appear in your bank account?  Don’t be mad that I decided to take action.  Or are you jealous that you weren’t brave enough to do it yourself?  You’re the kind of chickenshit who peels off a band aid, one painful hair at a time.  Fuck that shit.  Rip it off and get it over with.

Anyway, former shipmates, you can blame me for the big hole in the boat if it makes you feel better.  It doesn’t affect me one way or the other.  But you should know, it’s been almost a decade now.  Isn’t it time you started getting over it?

(And one more little note, be careful who you shoot your mouth off to.  You may hate me, but not everyone does and word travels fast.)

Butthurt

For the sake of discussion, let's say a federal law passed making one person in charge and that person tells us all what to do right down to the gnat's ass.  Let's call this person Supreme Leader Butthurt.

Tell me how this is good for any human in any way?  Other than you could chain us to a line in a factory and force us to produce widgets for 12 hours a day without payment.  But I'm not talking about that extreme.  I'm talking about how we believe, how we spend the money we work for, what sort of work we do, or even how we cook meals at home.

I ask this because it was implied today that those who do not bring their lunch to work every day are somehow not living a responsible/healthy/worthy life.

In fact, there was nearly a lecture about saving money and eating healthier (Supreme Leader Butthurt clearly never ate my cooking) because those who bring their lunch every day are more better at living good than those of us who don’t.

I bring my lunch when I can.  A little less in the summer because it's nice to get out of the office; good for my mental health.  (Supreme Leader Butthurt probably doesn’t ‘believe’ in mental health or the lack of it.  This is likely the kind of person who blames an individual for not thinking happy enough if they’ve got chronic depression.  Because, y’know, science and neurons and shit = not to be trusted.  Creationism, now THAT is science.)

But Supreme Leader Butthurt wants to tell us how to live.  Why?  I don’t know.  I assume I am not the only person who has encountered somebody who wants to be a supreme leader.

Again, for the sake of discussion, let's peek into a pretend life under Supreme Leader Butthurt where I go to church, I spend an hour a day exercising (SLB recommends high-impact cardio), and I keep my house, office and car spotless and organized perfectly and I have a daily routine that includes specific manners of grooming and all that other stuff, all outlined by this supreme leader.  And because Supreme Leader Butthurt says life must be lived 'family-friendly' that means I am no longer allowed to use ‘dirty language’ or look at naked bits (let alone enjoy it oh fuck no, oops, bad word, go to jail) or drink or pop pills and I must watch the local and national news every evening after dinner and then do responsible things before going to bed promptly at 10:30 pm.

Let’s say I do all that.

Now I’m a carbon copy of of the supreme leader, except still sort of inferior because I don’t have a penis.

Also, in Supreme Leader Butthurt's world, femaleness, fatness, gayness, non-Christian-ness and non-whiteness exist but it is STRONGLY FROWNED UPON and failure to assimilate = go to jail.  Women are subservient.  We’re allowed to drive, work and get an education but we live to serve our husbands and we hold no authoritative positions in the office or the home.

Gay people are required to pretend straightness.  Pretend everything, unless you naturally happen to be a white, athletic, genius white male straighter than straight perfect reliable tireless Christian.

So I'm doing all the right pretend things.  I’m living my pretend life Supreme Leader Butthurt style to the max.  Is anyone happier besides the supreme leader?  Is he truly happier?  I’m not.  Mr. Buffie won’t be.  No one else I know will have any more or less fucks to give than they already do about how I brush my teeth or whether or not I've packed a lunch.

Am I missing a point?  What’s so fucking fantastic about making everyone live to this one particular way of life?  Or is are control freaks just pompous, pious fucktards?

None of us are perfect and I’m definitely not family-friendly fun but I’m not a suicide bomber either.  I’m not an extremist, I’m not violent or dishonest, I don’t steal.  People are not afraid I will eat their children.  Most people, anyway.

The worst things Supreme Leader Butthurt can say about me are the same allegedly "bad" things anyone else can say.  I’m fat; I swear perhaps a little too much; sell semi-naked pictures of myself for money; I’m an anti-prohibitionist and I’m atheist.  Why do these things matter to anyone at all except for me?

I. Just. Don’t. Get. It.

Miss Jackson if you're nasty

If one of you wants to control my uterus, you can.  I don't mind.

I'll even pay the doctor to take it out because, by some miracle of the infant baby Jesus, I'm a piece of shit semi-liberal with a JOB.  Amazing, right?  I have my own private benefits, too.  But they don't cover uterus eviction.

You're going to have to provide your own container for it though.  I have no idea what will match your decor or if there are special storage instructions.  Remember, I'm (technically, registered Independent) semi-liberal (socially liberal, fiscally mostly-conservative) so I'm too dumb to research anything on my own or take responsibility for anything, ever.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/100616456/teratoma-tumor-specimen-jar?

Whatever works.

I did it.  I emailed the woman who spent more than two years harassing me and I cc'd her principal and associate principal.  Will she reply?  I don't know.  I don't care.  I'm just glad I stood up to her.

To all the bullied and harassed people in this world, it ain't much, but this one is for you.  Here's the letter (personal info redacted because I'm classy like that):

Hi Blank!

Long time, no talk.  Or shall I call you Anonymous?  Anonymous Name was the name on your messages but if you were trying to be anonymous, you failed pretty hard.  I've known your legal name since about an hour after I read the very first message you sent me.

I was going through some old files recently and came across harassing messages.  You know how curiosity and Google are.  Wow, I'm shocked you're a teacher now.  I see you have a degree in special education, too.  That's noble of you.  Are there any fat girls in your classes?

Did you know October is National Bullying Prevention Month?  Oh, and did you hear about that news anchor who recently spoke out against a viewer who sent her a nasty email because she's fat?  Sounds familiar, doesn't it?  I'm still surprised how much time you spent sending messages to me.  You even bought memberships to my website, another surprise considering you clearly dislike fat people.  But thanks for that.  Every dollar counts.

Do you suppose Principal Blank or Associate Principal Blank would be interested in seeing those emails because I still have them.  I'd be glad to share copies and all the other information regarding your harassment of me.  Yeah, I kept everything.  IP addresses, credit card info, your mom's name, the attempt to disguise your home address.  How is Mom Blank?  Do you still live on Blank St?

Hope you're having a great career as a teacher and more than that, for the sake of your students, I hope you've grown up.

I don't know why you chose to do what you did to me.  To my knowledge, we've never even met.  You sure tried to make my life hell for a while; and I admit, sometimes, if I was having a vulnerable moment, it hurt.  Who wouldn't be hurt, confused or even scared when they start getting taunting messages from a stranger?

Whatever your goal was, I don't know.  If it was to get me fired from my day job, that didn't work.  In fact, when I went to HR about it, showing them the research I'd done on you, they promoted me.  So, in a way, thanks for that, too.

Just curious, what was your point with all that anyway?  And why?

You've got a lot of power in your hands with an audience of young, impressionable minds in front of you every day.  Don't take it lightly.  Children deserve respect, kindness and a teacher who doesn't judge them by the size of their clothes.  They get enough hate from their peers.

Very best regards,

Buffie

I'm afraid of everything but I'm not afraid of jail.

I don't want to be one of those people who posts immature, passive aggressive drama and cheap shots on social media.  But there are mental demons sometimes and you have to exercise them, get them out.  Release them into the wild.  And if they come back, it was meant to be.  Wait, that's butterflies.

And because people can/sometimes will sue you for any ridiculous thing, you have to be specific and vague at the same time in these situations.  You must purge the evil and remember to dispose of it responsibly, like used motor oil.

Striving for perfection is so exasperatingly pointless.  It doesn't exist in humans.  I'm not perfect but in general, I try hard to be a decent member of the species.

Some people don't.  You know one, maybe more.  I definitely know a few.

And do you ever have a constant question of perspective in your head like I do?  I'm always wondering if MY perspective is fouled up or if reality really is reality.  D: All of the above.

For the most part, I believe I am seeing what's considered 'real'.  (Is that in any way a virtue or is that another discussion for another time?)

Therefore, I trust that I do know when I am seeing evil things happen.  It isn't that I think I'm seeing evil things but from another perspective it is merely harsh or careless.  Bad shit is going down according to reality, not only me.

My peeps know I have this rule.  It's a simple rule and it hasn't let me down yet.  Here it is: If you are intentionally bad to someone I love, I will hate you forever.

That is the rule.  It's black and white and one of the few things I take 100% seriously.

When the rule is broken, I don't always know it right away.  It's not The Force.  It's the rule.  There are no alien psychic waves that tell me someone is abusing a member of the protected class.  I have to be told by a trusted source or I have to observe it.

For about the past 6 years, someone has been breaking the rule.  And hating them forever has officially become insufficient.  Can I do anything about that?  Nothing I can think of.

If the opportunity ever presents itself though, shit will get real.  Maybe even jail real.  Not wise for me to say much else without falling off the tightrope of vague specifics.  If I end up with a good lawyer, I can probably have this stricken from the evidence so I can at least tell you that it would get felony real but not homicide real because I prefer no physical contact.  There?  Do I still get to keep my decent human status?

And it's true, I am afraid of pretty much everything.  You've got your typical girl fears... Bad hair, spiders, the dark.  Then there are my fears... the rest of the things.

Many of my fears would be found in a typical medium-security women's prison.  Criminals, germs, being locked in a room with a stranger, having to shower in a group.  But I'm not afraid because if that's where I end up, it would be absolutely, completely, truly and satisfyingly worth it.

As much as the rule is breaking, my heart is breaking more.

The center of the onion.

worth1000.com

I'll do this with as few words as possible because everyone is over it.

There's a layer underneath the freedom of speech/First Amendment issue.

And that is Chick-fil-A donating millions of dollars to /anti/-gay groups that lobby lawmakers.

It's one thing to stand on the side of the pool and either wish I would drown or do nothing should I start to drown.

However, the financial support of these lobbying groups (they can say they're family associations or whatever, but we all know their purpose) is like putting your foot on my head and pushing me underwater until I stop fighting or stop breathing, whichever comes first.

And THAT is my problem with ALL religion.  Eventually, it becomes a way to determine and separate classes of humans, rating some above others for no other reason than a passage in someone's chosen holy book.

It does not matter what you believe.  You can worship Regina George and the Burn Book can be your bible if you want.  You have free will.  Go ahead and do it.  If you're American, you have a constitutional right to do it.

YOUR* beliefs can not and should not arbitrarily condemn what anyone does with other consenting adults behind closed doors.

*"Your" means every single human being on earth.  Clear?

And I'm done.  Back to kittens.

A sticky widget in my social media machine.

Shhh! I'm duckin' the fuzz.
If they ask, you haven't
seen me.

Is there a way to turn off or block 'suggested friends' on FB?  Some peeps I don't add because... well, I know I would offend them accidentally and these are good people, people I like.  I'd never want to hurt them.
I borderline on NC-17.  They're more PG.  Anyone else in this predicament?  What do I do?  To block would be inappropriate and rude but not to add also feels wrong.
Are there degrees of anonymous?  How can I be me without being totally witness protection program?  (Which is a little bit of the reason for certain things but unrelated to this particular topic.  Long story.  Tell you later.)

WWMMD?  (What would Miss Manners do?)

Shit. It happens.

Funny, sad and true.

Conservatives throw mud at "bleeding-heart" Liberals but when it comes to the plight of the unborn (insert dramatic face), Conservatives wrote the book on hearts that bleed.


Grab hold of your party-line politics and take a little walk with me down a very likely what-if lane.


Even when someone is responsible, established and does everything right, accidents can still happen.

Here's a slice of real life:

Imagine a 36-year-old married woman with a 50-year-old husband, both have full-time jobs and also two part-time sources of income which are heavily taxed since it’s considered self-employment.

Let's say the husband has an 18-year-old son from a previous marriage.  He pays over $500 a month in child support and his son lives with them approximately 50% of the time.  They're fortunate to have a smart kid who starts college at a top local university in the fall.

Even with multiple sources of income and financially conservative living, they barely make ends meet.  The husband had cancer nine years ago and they had no health insurance during the duration of his treatment.  They're in debt from medical bills and now about to pay for books and tuition in addition to paying the $500+ child support for another four years.  (In many cases, non-deadbeat fathers pay for the sins of the losers and are ordered to give money to the mothers until the child is 22 or 'emancipated' meaning not attending school.)

The shitty part of this story is where people must share their intimate details with lawmakers in order to make a point.  The married couple always uses birth control.  But birth control is NOT infallible.  It can and does fail, that’s why the manufacturers must disclose such on the packaging.


Now don't tell me you expect this struggling but happily-married couple to abstain.  Come on.  Totally unrealistic.  They're in love, attracted to each other, married (this is sooo important to you, right).  Are YOU going to abstain from having sex with your spouse?  No way and if you say yes, you're a damn liar.

So what happens should birth control fail, pro-life lawmakers?  If this woman cannot terminate an accidental pregnancy, what are her options?  Carry the child to term knowing it is high risk at her age?  Here's another detail about our wife, she's physically challenged (insert your own ailment, fibro, RA, lupus...).

Can you imagine how a pregnancy will impact her, a 36-year-old disabled woman who works 60-80 hours a week and already struggling to support her family?  Do you care?  No, you care about the unborn more than you care about someone who pays taxes, already has a step-child to support and a husband who is 50 and not interested in raising another child at his age.

Tell me how that makes sense.  Tell me why you would rather allow an unwanted pregnancy to destroy her life than let her have an abortion.  Tell me why you would rather this scenario for all women.

Assuming the pregnancy itself doesn't kill both the woman and the unborn child, are YOU going to adopt these babies?  No.  You’re not.


You would rather they end up on the streets with her little accident in her arms, having to beg and borrow just to feed the child.  Please tell me how that’s better than terminating a pregnancy.


And that is IF she has a healthy baby.  But if you factor in her age and the fact that she is disabled and already under a lot of stress, there's a strong likelihood she will have a child with special needs, she may have a premature child.  There's something she needs like a kick in the teeth, more stress.


Since conservative lawmakers are none too fond of government assistance programs, this disabled 36-year-old new mother with a special needs child who has lost her part-time income because there are only 24 hours in a day and perhaps lost her husband as well because the stress tore their marriage apart (oh, what about the FAMILY conservatives so dearly love to 'preserve'), where does she go now?


No, that's not the right question.


Where does she go now with her special needs child?


That's the right question.  One job that doesn't pay the bills, a child whose expenses are higher than average because of medical needs or challenges, no husband and no assistance programs...


Homeless shelter maybe?  A relative might let her stay there for a couple of months until she can find a shitty apartment and that will be their existence.  The child will eat a lot of ramen noodles, maybe get the occasional hot lunch at school (remember, no more assistance programs, no more reduced-cost lunches for low-income children), hopefully get a decent education, provided the child is not mentally challenged...


Can the mother take her child on a vacation to see the world, experience different places and people?  Don't make me laugh, that costs money.  The woman couldn't afford to take a vacation with her husband before she got pregnant.


But, you know, public school, shitty apartment and maybe some hand-me-down books and toys will make for an enriching life.  When the mother isn't keeping her nose to the grind, trying to earn every penny she can until her body gives out and she can't work at all.  (Meanwhile she hopes her child will be able to live independently or with another sympathetic relative once the mother loses the shitty apartment - even slums cost money.)


Yes, that is SO MUCH BETTER for everyone than just terminating an unwanted pregnancy.  Right.  So much better for YOU, pro-lifer.  The struggling woman and her hungry child will sleep so much better at night knowing you're happy that she chose "life."

Note:

I am neither Republican nor Democrat.  I'm a registered Independent.

Here are a few of my independent positions:

I own guns and support the right to bear arms.

I am pro-gay.

I am pro-choice.

I am atheist and I support freedom of religion as long as there is separation of church and state.

I want lawmakers who are fiscally conservative, transparent and ethical.

I think our government has grown too large and needs to be dramatically reduced.

I support our military.

I support legalizing marijuana.

I think the welfare system needs reform, not elimination.
I vote my conscience.

I pester the ever-loving hell out of my elected officials and encourage all of you to do exactly the same.

Whine and Spirits

That's not a typo.

I've been in an uncharacteristically nettled, horrible mood recently (and a teensy bit currently but it's receding) and it was crippling, more than any physical ailment I've ever had.  Totally wore me down.  Maybe I'm over it?  I hope so.

Here's the whine...  I have a voicemail I'm actually afraid to hear.  I've never listened to it but that vile little red circled "1" won't leave the icon unless I do.  And it isn't even from a friend or a relative or business relation sort of person.  It's an I've-only-met-you-twice acquaintance.  I'm a scaredy cat; this is widely known among those who know, y'know.  LoL  That circled icon peeves me to no end and was a big mean old contributor to my bad mood.  And I don't feel like blaming myself so I would much prefer someone else fix it.  Mehhhh.

Sometimes I almost think I believe in ghosts.  I believe in the possibility of ghosts, I guess.  But actual spirits, who knows?  It's weird to see departed friends on the FB.  Remembering them makes you smile but you can't avoid saying goodbye again, every single time.

Occasionally I will forget, just for like 5 seconds, maybe less.  I will forget about goodbye and in that tiny moment they're alive again.  What is that all about?  It's so bizarre.  Is that a ghost or only a misfire of neurons and static electricity in the brain?  What if it is both?

Reason #271 Why College Is Not For Everyone

Some shizz is kind of part of your life and you wish it wasn't.  For me that's math.  Also history and occasionally pants.  Not like /that/ pants, pervs.  Like bad things always happen when we're wearing pants.  Think about it.  Didn't I explain this before?  You'll figure it out...

Maybe I'm a secret masochist but for whatever reason, I trip and fall in some boring ass 10 hour history lessons a bunch and this is how much you know it happens - Several lectures I am positive I've heard before.  My head!!!  Owwww!  I want to go forwards, not backwards.  Backwards is important, I'm aware.  But we already know how it ended.  Yawnzville.

Does misery really love company?  Let me lay some historical factage on you and see if it makes me feel better.

You know the famous saying...  "Why do today what you can put off, by chance, until next Tuesday?"

One of our great Founding Fathers, the ethical and classically handsome Richard Nixon said that during his final performance at Woodstockapalooza at the conclusion of the Spanish-Korean War.  Stockapaloo is a forested island off the coast of Luxembourg.  It is from this that we get the term 'stock market' where the Senatorial National Convention is held every two years.  Commander Nixon's signature appears on the 10 Bills of Rights.

Did you really just read all that and follow me at first but then get all like "What?  I'm pretty sure that's wrong... (opens Google in a new tab)."

#GuessWhatGradesIGotInHistory  Also, today in #FakeHistory.

Can I have a volunteer from the audience?

My head hurts too badly to sleep so I might as well do something to occupy my brain.

Let's have a discussion.

Be assured I know for a fact I can wildly disagree with someone on certain issues and still respect and like or love them.  Having a wide range of friends enriches my life.  Don't know about y'all but you should give it a try sometime if you haven't.  You might like it.

Anyway, since the gay-marriage ban happened in North Carolina today, do I have any anti-gay friends I can ask some questions?

Obviously I'm pro-gay-marriage, so I know we'd have opposing views, but I'm trying to understand the logic and I want to know how you interpret the purpose of government.

So if there are any volunteers, I would truly appreciate.  I promise to be respectful and open-minded.  I don't mean to make that sound as though I will change my mind on the issue.  That is beyond unlikely, and safe to say impossible.  But my desire to understand your POV is sincere.

You can remain anon, too.  I understand if you feel it's necessary.  However I will say that remaining anonymous if this is truly how you feel does puzzle me and I'd like to discuss that also.  FYI.

Thanks to any takers.  I look forward to it.

Princess Problems

Got to see my in-laws tonight.  They're good peeps.  My mother-in-law is a huge fan of vintage bags and even gave me one of her prized Enid Collins box bags as an engagement gift #@vda$%!aoi&? *cough* years ago.

She has a friend who owns a no-shit Rolex.  I got to hold it once.  It was like a gift from Santa I didn't even know I wanted.  It was heavy.  I felt good.  It would sparkle in a pitch black room.  I shall never forget it.

Want to hear something that will make you swoon?  The lady got it for freeeeeeeeee.  It was her 25th anniversary gift or something like that because she worked for Rolex.  I don't know if it was her first one or not.  But after that, I know for certain this is one luxury label that has earned it's stripes.  Straight up functional art.

I don't think I could ever own one, though.  Not unless I found a pre-owned one for a very good deal.  Someone in my position can't really justify blowing that kind of scratch on something my phone already does.  Plus watches present a challenge to left-handed people who write a lot and use a mouse for long periods of time of a daily basis.

Do you think I really should have been born a princess?  I do.  Working is fine and all but I truly believe in my heart that my calling isn't to be wealthy necessarily but to be surrounded 24/7 by my favorite things and learn life's lessons from other people's mistakes so I'd never have to make my own and also be able to hire people to do things I don't like... changing the litter box, laundry, waking up before noon.

If a princess wants to have cocktails for dinner with her besties even if it's a school night, she can.  Because princesses don't wake up before noon.  Hello.  Princesses are cute.  It's called beauty rest for a reasonnn.  Pay attention.  (That was for my benefit, not yours.)

Princesses can spend 3 hours putting on makeup and then go to the mall with their girlz and buy more makeup and go home and put makeup on each other and drink more cocktails and maybe play with their hair or glue sparkly things on their iPhone cases.

What they don't do is stuff that prevents them from wearing a Rolex.  Or any wrist jewelry.  How this has anything to do with seeing my in-laws tonight, I do not know.

It would just be nice if I could, for once, wear a bracelet all day long without issue.

This is the stellar
Lia Sophia Party Favor bracelet.
I'd like to wear mine complication-free.

The most frustrating part.

Mean people are awful but their meanness is actually the second most frustrating thing about encountering them.  The most frustrating thing is, for me, the inability to comprehend WHY they are mean.

It's kind of silly to call a major media outlet mean.  So many people contribute content that it really is impossible to asses whether they intend to be hurtful.  Perhaps some do but I don't think CNN would be one of them.

CNN did frustrate me today though, and it was due to a mean girl encounter sooo the two aren't ... what's the term?  Mutually exclusive?  Unrelated?  I don't know but I think you get it.

For the past several Fridays, CNN.com has posted stories about body image and perceptions of beauty.  Miss American's anorexia recovery was one of them.  There was also a story about FATshion.  My heart did a little woot woot when I read that one.

Today, I read this story by Shanon Cook who is incredulous that a man found her pregnant silhouette attractive.  She used so many fat slurs it was like someone played a tape loop of my past.  I wanted to crawl under my desk and induce puking into my trash can.

For obvious reasons, acceptance, tolerance and kindness are high on my wish list for society.  My story is not uncommon.  Because I am fat, I was brutally bullied from 6th grade until I graduated high school.  Even in adulthood I have been called names in public, humiliated and physically assaulted over my weight.  That's probably why my blogs don't have a lot of range.  They're either completely shallow fluff or they're about the things that hurt me.  Write what you know.  ^_^

Being treated like a piece of subhuman shit due to my appearance hurts me.  Wouldn't that hurt almost everyone?  So when I see news pieces, TeeVee shows, movies, pictures, etc. that are size positive or even size neutral, I do a mental cartwheel because it means that maybe history will stop repeating itself.

But then I read Shanon Cook's piece and I think it will never get better.

Here are some examples of what she said:

"And then there was the belly -- a massive dome of a thing, so immense that Lennox looked like a wee Scottish lass beside me. Jessica-Simpson-on-the-cover-of-Elle, no. Sexy, I was not."

"I didn't tell him that excitement doesn't really register when it takes a forklift and three bodybuilders to raise you out of bed in the morning."

"This dude thought I was hot. But how could he? I mean, I looked like an upright hippopotamus."

Wait, though, it gets really confusing and that added fuel to the frustration fire.

She says pregnancy allows women to not be neurotic about their size for a moment, so she enjoyed it by eating "truckloads" of candy and feeling good in spite of herself.

What?

Did I miss something?  Is she saying that only when you are pregnant can you love your body if it's big? And CNN published it?

Why?  Why can't we love our bodies always, regardless of how big or small?  And why does CNN give us an entire series about diverse beauty and body image then turn around and run another tired old fat = gross story?

Seems like every publication goes balls out when it comes to fat hate stories yet they'll print an anti-bullying story on the very next page.  What message is this?  Is it intentional?

Hate totally bums me out.  It hurts; it causes me to ask all these questions and the absolute most frustrating part is that I will never know the answer.

Challenge: iPhone State of the Union ... Buddiezzzz

Let's see how hard it will be to blog from my phone? Here goes. If it turns out ferkocteh,my bad. I'll fix it later.

So our President Barack Henry Obama is giving this ceremonial speech thing and it's pretty good. Some fact checking wouldn't hurt but this is a speech, maybe you could call it a performance if you were way cynical. Sooo let's just take it at face value for now.

I am not sure why certain people are in the audience other than friends in high places. The Prez is giving a shout out to the same deserving but cliche groups. Vets. Middle class. Bums. Unicorn lovers. Jellyfish. The last couple I just made up but you and I are still getting off on the same floor...

My cat doesn't care about any of it. She just wants me to let her under the blanket. Hold on.

The orange guy behind him looks like he has gas. I have also missed the first hour or so. Whatever. It's like being late to a movie.

Now we have two guys doing VO a shot of suits giving hugs. Hey voice dudes, I just watched. It isn't necessary to describe it.

This one guy has a crush on Mitch Daniels. Not kidding! Are you listening to this? In case you didn't know, Mitch Daniels sold a state toll roads to a consortium overseas. A road the residents and travelers through the state already paid for. Not cool commentator guy. That governor showed blatant disregard for the people he was hired to serve. Abuse of power for profit. Full stop.

This time I have a point. A conclusion anyway. Still not really a point. Maybe next time.

First, blogging from my phone is easier than I thought as long as I keep it simple.

Also, memo to fans of Mitch Daniels: I do not understand how you can overlook his actions in that specific situation. It's a deal breaker. He is only a "very well respected" governor among dense people. You and a lot of people are dense that is the truth. It isn't an insult. You just are. But I still love you. =^_^=

Also, our lawmakers and our selves need to get serious about sharing ideas. We can fix this shit if we just take things one issue at a time and make flexible decisions that are fair and be willing to try another route if the one we initially pick is a fail. Hey, it happens.

Man I want to slap that guy with a glove and stomp away in a huff. Mitch the Bitch in on now. Gag.

As I was saying, Google your problems. Find out who fixes it (federal, state, city, etc.) Then send emails, make calls, tweet them, whatever. But reach out. Let them know your issue. Offer solutions. Be reasonable. Be educated. Be POLITE. That's why we picked them and it's why we pay them.

Off to have noms, chill, get sleep, have happy dreams. Peace and good vibes to you all. Even the dense ones who are nice people aside from that.

There's a reason they call 'em private parts.

O hai Boycotting Girl Scout people,


I saw a video on Jezebel.

Is this a case of bigoted parents having bigoted kids? Regardless of how she arrived at her fear of penises and her obsession with dressing how she wants in a group, she'll make a hell of an attorney someday if she can find an all-bigot-females-born-with-vaginas-only country where she can practice law.

And you know what, Honest Discriminating Girl Scout (that's a factual term, she's being honest as fuck about her feelings) I ate a fat ton of Girl Scout cookies the past couple weeks and Imma finish my box of Thin Mints tonight. Maybe I'll throw down s'more cash on Thanks A Lots tomorrow. And maybe I'll do it for the sole reason that GSUSA allowed a transgender (meaning no longer male but FEMALE) GIRL into the group.

Here's the deal, Uptight Robot Child, USE YOUR BRAIN. If an evil, plotting, ill-intentioned boy is trying to get into GSUSA because he thinks he will score some poon, have a little more faith in the adults around you to catch on to his game before he gets his slimy man parts anywhere near your pristine white cotton briefs.

Do your parents sleep in separate beds in your creepily perfect Reese Witherspoon in "Election" kind of home and have they raised you to be scalded-dog scared of anything that isn't All American Cream Cheese Sunday School White Linen Napkins?

Am I advocating child molestation here? Again, if ya use yer inferior lady brains, you'll see I am clearly NOT. (You said it yourself, girls need all-girl places to feel like it is 'easier' to do thinks like fart or talk about how frustrating it is when you only get an A and not an A+ on your calculus test.)  (Quickie question tho.  If it is easier to talk about badges and swimming with ONLY GIRLS BORN WITH VAGINAS then why is it hard to talk about these things in mixed company?  IF it is indeed harder to do this, then is that a boy's fault or is it yours?)

Check this out because it is an absolute truth.  You do not and can not know everyone's situation. I don't know your situation other than what you shared in your video and I'm asking you questions about it although I realize it's unlikely, in the massive soup of the interwebs, that you'll ever see them or even answer.


The fact remains.  It's impossible to suddenly know a person's intentions because you have one piece of information about their body. IMPOSSIBLE. Trust me. It is not possible.  Can we agree that this is an honest fact?

How would you feel if you had all your same emotions, all your same spirit, ethics, your entire personality, your whole life was all exactly the same but you had a boy's body?

Would YOU want to live in a world that respected you, treated you fairly and allowed you the same freedoms everyone else enjoys?

OR

Would you want to be the one single solitary You-With-A-Penis in a world filled with other Yous-With-A-Vagina who treated you like a rapist just because you had a personal physical issue with which you were dealing?

If we're being HONEST here (you clearly conveyed how important honesty is to you) then I feel safe in saying you would indeed pick the fair treatment and respect. So if you'd pick it for yourself, why would you deny it for someone else? That doesn't sound like a very GSUSA thing to do, does it?

Makes me think you're not the stellar representative of GSUSA you set out to be. Which would mean people should actually boycott YOU and NOT delicious GSUSA cookies. And on that note, your argument is invalid.

Ohkay, bye now. I'm off to share my Girl Scout cookies with big, bad, scary different people.