Welcome to my wonderful, terrible, soap opera sit-com world.
Saturday, February 28, 2004
I can't think of a song lyric right now that would remotely have anything to do with this post, so I'm just going to leave it like that. For now. Or something.
Okay. So the movie, Passion Of The Christ. What the hell?
Seeing Passion will not make you a better Catholic. It does not mean you are a better Christian than someone else. God will not look upon you with more love or joy because you have spent $10 and $5 on popcorn and $5 on a coke to see special-effects nails driven through special-effects hands in a movie that is full of blood and gore. That movie is nothing more than one human, mortal man's perception of a part of a holy book that many people believe is true and factual.
That's what it is.
One man's vision.
One man's guts and gore, financed by $25,000,000 (that's TWENTY FIVE MILLION DOLLARS) of a movie company's budget.
One company's attempt at merchandising crap so you just buy more stupid things, like books (of the movie), T-shirts, soundtracks, and pendants representing the nails that were driven through fake rubber hands in the movie. They have a fucking website to sell this.
That people are buying, to wear around their necks, because it's some kind of fashion statement and it'll make you a better Christian and it'll glorify you in the eyes of God.
People are stupid.
People who spend their life savings so their parish can go see this fucking commercial monstrosity movie. The unfortunate lady who had a heart attack during the crusifixion scene.
And what about these families who are taking their small children and exposing them to the violence, blood and realistic gore in this movie, so they can fucking scare their kids straight, or something.
This is all amazingly stupid.
God did not create this movie. Shit, if you're a Catholic, the Pope didn't even endorse the movie, contrary to popular belief. This is the SECULAR, COMMERCIAL VENTURE of a bunch of guys who are taking advantage of a bunch of people who normally wouldn't go see a SPECIAL EFFECTS LADEN BLOOD AND GORE SLASHER FLICK, and who are concealing it under the guise of a beautiful religious experience.
I have an amazing news flash for ANYONE who thinks seeing this movie makes them a better person, gives them any kind of heads-up in the eyes of God, or makes them a more devoted, devout Catholic or even Jesus-worshipper of any kind.
It doesn't. Its a movie. It's a spectacular special effects bonanza. Do you really think you would normally go see a slasher flick? A movie where someone was tortured brutally? Do you think the 56 year old woman who died of a heart attack in the movie would ever have exposed herself to something so violent, so gory? No, of course not, because THOSE things aren't doing anything but making money off of other peoples' gullibility and need for entertainment.
So what's the difference with this?
Will I see it?
Pendants. Of nails. Cheeseandrice.
Religion and spirituality is about your personal relationship with God as you see God. The worth of your faith doesn't depend on a commercial film, and people who are treating this as if it does, need to get a grip.
Thursday, February 26, 2004
I can't resist:
I know. It's SO two years ago. Bite me.
I want to put more space between the main text table cell and the right-side table cells or columns or whatever the hell we call them when "we" are doing things like HTML template design.
As best as I can tell they're just two columns, but I can't seem to make space.
Can someone help me?
Last night at the vet, the doctor pretty much gave Cody about six weeks to live.
We're going to try him on some new medication today that might take the swelling down in his prostate. For two weeks. If that doesn't work, then we will switch to something else. If that doesn't work, we'll change to another medication for two weeks. If that doesn't help, then by that time we'll have to be considering putting him down.
I had to tell S. that last night and as much as he wants to believe that Cody might hang in there until he comes home, the doctor doesn't think he's going to make it. I don't want S. to feel like he's letting us down by not being here. He's got to be where he is right now and doing what he has to do, and it becomes my "job" to hold down the fort. If I didn't have S. in my life, I'd have to be going through this all by myself anyway. But he gets so quiet when I tell him the sad, the tragic, and I know he sits over there and thinks about it. What if he were here, what could he do. What if.
It's about 60 days until I will see my husband again, and about 40-50 until I will have to let my beloved puppy go. On the outside. I have to pay close attention because things could turn for the worse at any time. As long as he seems happy and okay, I hesitate to put him to sleep, especially if there is a chance he might live to see his daddy again.
So, last night I came home, watched American Idol, drank about four glasses of wine and ate some cheese crisps. Since I haven't had cheese in about a month, that was quite a feat and I am paying for it today, just as I am paying for the four glasses of wine.
No matter how many times in my life I have tried, I have never successfully pulled off the "drinking heavily to relieve myself of the pressure of a tragic moment." I end up getting sideways, tanked and upset, but not even quite coherent enough to really BE upset, and then I get up in the morning and the same stuff's still there. Something unfortunate in my nature then tells me that it's just not quite worth it to do the drinking, so I end up suffering through and actually FEELING everything, because even if the sad moment lingers on, I can't bring myself to drink my way through it.
Sometimes I wish I could just drink myself comatose and not care about what was going on. At least for, like, half an hour or something. There are days I'd pay money to be numb.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
I'm sure I slept, though I don't rightly know how long I did. I woke up this morning when the alarm went off, solely because I have an early appointment I can't be late for. I have to take Cody back to the vet today for another ultrasound. He's doing "okay," but he's not improving like we had hoped.
My next door neighbor, who is amazing, called me last night and asked if there was anything she could help me with today. I told her, "I don't think they can give me any worse news than I've already gotten, and I'm pretty much prepared for them to tell me there's been no change or any change has been passed up by the growth of the tumor." We both kind of cried a little bit, and she offered her services as anything I needed, but I told her I was sure we'd be fine and I'd talk to her tonight when I get him home.
I also have a fucking huge zit on the side of my nose, kind of up towards my eye, and it's one of the kind that just aches and hurts. It is also, of course, gigantic and drawing attention to itself. I'm sure almost no one can even see it, but it feels like I have a golf ball growing out of the bridge of my nose, and it's quite upsetting.
In other funky fresh news, S. and I are one day closer to being able to go to Las Vegas for our "honeymoon" trip. I might have mentioned this before - some time in June we are going to hit Sin City for three or four days. We're going to make a open invite to our wonderful friends that if they want to go to Vegas and hook up with us while we're there, it would be great, plus our families were supposed to come. Now, it looks like my family isn't going to come.
Well, my mom told me last night that my sister and her husband probably aren't coming. Since my dad was going to meet them in Vegas, on their way to Mexico to visit him, he's probably not going to go out of his way for four days in Vegas if there's not a dual purpose. I guess I don't much blame him. My mom pretty much told me she doesn't want to go to Vegas "alone," and that it's not her "thing" any more, so she's not going to go.
But that's okay, as his family will go. So today I am going to call the Sahara and book our room. I was talking with S. and he feels rather strongly that we should have our own room, especially since the Sahara has a military discount (Thanks, Sahara!) and we can hope for a nonsmoking king room with a view of the Strip for about $200 for the whole three nights. That ain't bad, kiddos, not bad at all. And with this much time in advance to plan it, it should be easy to pay ourselves back. Plus the reservation is competely cancellable and refundable.
I'm excited about that, because it gives me one thing to be a little happy about in the midst of all this other stuff.
S. and I had an interesting talk yesterday, it seems he also went porno shopping so I don't have to swap off with him re the new movies I bought last week. He just got some of his own. He ordered them online and paid as much for two movies plus a promo disc, as I did for two movies. Go figure. I guess I need to learn to deal with my instant-porn-gratification needs.
Hey, has anyone ever read or used that book, 101 Nights of Great Sex? I think we're going to get a copy of it. We have two months to go and we can't seem to stop thinking or talking about all the sex we're gonna have when he gets home. No, no phone sex. But that's okay. I'd rather at least talk about it, you know?
And now, today's moment of politics: I can not for the life of me believe that the President wants to put in a CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT to discriminate against a very real, very true, group of citizens in this country.
GLBT individuals deserve the same rights as anyone else to marry in this country. What is it hurting? Nothing. What will it harm if the Constitution is amended to add discrimination and rule out rights for one group of citizens? Everything.
There is a complete and total difference between having some kind of spiritual opinion or basis for being against gay "marriage," and changing the document on which this country's foundation is based, to discriminate against a group of citizens based solely on your faith.
This cannot be supported or stood for. Please, please, please, contact your representatives in Washington, D.C. and let them know that you are against a constitutional amendment to prohibit gay marriage. This is something that should go through the court system in this country, all the way to the Superior Court if needed, just like every other time-tested "issue" that challenges the status quo. These people who love one another deserve the right to a civil union just like I have one with my husband.
It was not until I went through something like this myself that I really considered the difference between a "marriage" and a "civil union." As far as Shawn and I are concerned, we got MARRIED in October 2003 at our handfasting ceremony, which was a non-legally-binding ceremony. We were CIVILLY UNITED in front of a judge on January 9, 2004. One is a spiritual pact between you, your partner, and your God. The other one is a legally binding contractual agreement so the rest of the world will acknowledge your union. We call them both "marriage." They are, very frankly, unrelated and they SHOULD be unrelated. Some individuals are lucky enough to be able to combine a civil ceremony and a religious ceremony into one event because their religious representative has the legal right to perform that service... but not everyone does.
The people getting married in San Francisco testing this law (thank you, Mayor of San Francisco) are entering into CIVIL UNIONS. They are not united under YOUR God or anybody else's God, as they are telling a JUDGE "I do." They are signing their names to a piece of paper that will be filed in a court and county system and will stand as proof that they have agreed to be legally responsible for one another. Many of these amazing, loving people have already had "commitment ceremonies" or "weddings" where they have pledged their love and their lives to one another in a spiritual or religious sense, even if it was Joe the Next Door Neighbor performing the ceremony.
What's the difference? When S. and I got married in October, we were married in the eyes of our friends, our family in Spirit, and our God/s. But, I couldn't handle his affairs for him. If he got sick and went to the hospital, I wouldn't be considered "family." If he passed away, I would not be entitled to benefits. If I wanted to go visit him on the Air Force Base, I couldn't. If he wanted to name me as his dependent, he had no legal recourse.
Fifteen minutes and two signatures later, we are afforded those rights and privileges.
Anyone willing to make that commitment should be able to. Wake up, America.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
I'm sure most of you have already seen Pussy Ranch, but I think you should all go there and start reading.
I read her almost daily, and can't imagine why I haven't linked her here before. Anyway, she doesn't know me from Adam (or Eve), I just like her blog.
In a world where hookerblogs and callgirl stories win awards in the blogosphere, it's refreshing to see the blog of a gal "in the industry" (stripper/etc) who's also deeply in love with her man, living her day to day life, and blogging about all of it.
So, thank you, Diablo, for adding a little naughty bit to my daily reads.
I am surrounded by people who are expecting babies.
I am also surrounded by people who just had their babies, pictures of babies, talk of babies, and the occasional, “Rose is a newlywed, she’s next!”
I try to tell them that I am not next, most importantly because my husband is 1600 miles away and I don’t intend my pregnancy to be an immaculate conception.
But, I also feel like – and I’m sure this is a part of my depression raging in me currently – I’m never going to be pregnant.
Now isn’t the time for me to be feeling like I have a motherly urge. It’s just not the time. I’m 34 years old and my life is taking an amazing, critical shift. We are going to be moving to Oklahoma later this year. I have to focus on renewing and expanding my life into all the new and amazing challenges that are going to come to us. Having to do all of that, while pregnant, would be very difficult and make my husband crazy. Not to mention, who’s going to hire this amazing all-in-one package, if she’s pregnant? Not bloody likely.
So I’m looking down the barrel of five different pregnancies, plus lord knows what else is going to come down the pike. And as we approach the summer, when all these babies are supposed to be hatching, everyone will get more and more excited, and they will say more and more often what a blessing children are, and I will smile and try not to feel like I’m being left out of some kind of a velvet-ropes hot spot.
If I weren’t so happy about my fortune in finding my amazing husband and if I weren’t so overjoyed about our union, I might be regretful that I waited this long to start a family. I was having this discussion the other day with someone, and I pointed out that when “we” were kids, we were told we had to have our babies by 35. Now, the average childbearing age is increasing and intelligent women across this country say things like, “I want to have a baby by the time I’m 40 years old.”
By that clock, I have six years. But the older you get, the more risks there are.
I don’t want to wait until I’m 40 years old. At the same time, I don’t want to FEEL OLD at all! Maybe this would all just work itself out if I were having regular actual interpersonal sex instead of porn-driven self love. I need my man.
... and happy Mardi Gras, everyone!
I had a really hard time getting out of bed this morning. I suppose I was dreaming something nice, and fun, or something, but mostly I was just cold. After the rains all day in the area, it was about as "bitter cold" as it gets in Arizona last night, at least in February.
So, I sat on the couch last night and watched the finale of "My Big, Fat, Obnoxious Fiancee," and I've got to say I think they did a great job. And there's just something so endearing, at least to me, about Steve. I wanted to not like Randi, and I wanted to not like her family, but they managed to twist it around at the end where you were cheering for their cohesion as a family unit and all excited about the fact that they loved each other. Yay, them. It was good.
I wish I had something a little more exciting to write about today. I just feel kind of numb. I don't particularly want to go to work, as I think I'd rather sit around and do nothing. I should probably stop on my way in and get a great big coffee to jack myself up.
I don't know. I know some days are better than others, but maybe it's starting to take a little bit of a toll on me.
Oh, and someone referred here from www.fark.com, how completely weird is that?
Monday, February 23, 2004
If I had to rank them, I would say the last two or three days of last week were among the worst groups of days in a very, very long time. Years. Decades, maybe. I don't know.
First, I spoke to my "real" vet (the vet who told me Cody's infection is only an infection was filling in for my regular vet) and he says that he feels Cody's infection is caused by cancer... so I will be taking him back in on Wednesday for another all-day thing, ultrasound et al, and then hopefully we will put him on some medication that will help him feel more comfortable and take down the swelling in his prostate. Thank you for all of your thoughts and prayers.
Second, my mom is scheduled to have some surgery on March 12... she has a bladder stone that is attached to the tissue on the side of her bladder, and she needs to have it surgically removed. So of course every time she goes in to take a baseline for the surgery, they find something else they don't rightly understand. So, while my mom was trying to get ready to go AGAIN to the doctor on Friday to get tested because she was having some strange symptoms, you'll never guess what happened...
My sister decided to royally try to fuck my life up.
Back in January, my sister sent an email to my mother telling her she ruined Christmas and what a bad person she is. Now, anyone who's read this blog for any amount of time understands that I have issues with my mom. But, I decided this year I wasn't going to get sucked into the middle of my sister's issues with her. So when sis called me and asked to read the email to me for my "feedback," I initially balked at the idea. Of course, she had to mention how I was mentioned in the letter, so then I had to hear it just so I could correct her and make sure I was, effectively, left out of the loop.
After I talked to her about it, told her I thought it was too long and too harsh (she refused to change it), I asked her to please not tell our mom that I had known about the letter, because I didn't want to be involved. She agreed. "No matter how angry you get, you can't tell her that I knew about this." I stated that over and over again. So, you can guess what happened.
Friday morning, in the middle of some argument caused by something not worth anything, my sister said, "Well, ROSE KNEW ABOUT THE EMAIL I SENT YOU AND SHE AGREED WITH EVERYTHING IN IT." lie. Lie. LIE. LIE.
So here's about how it went.
8:30am - Mom calls me to ask me if that's true.
8:35 am - Sis calls me to tell me what happened and prepare me for mom's "rampage."
8:40 am - I tell sis to fuck off and not call me at work about bullshit like this, plus I remind her that she is a LIAR.
8:55 am - Mom calls to remind me she's on her way for more tests, cries on the phone about the situation with my sister...
Friday, overall, sucked ass. Between talking to my mom - who for once in our lives doesn't believe my sister over me - and trying to compose an email to my sister that wasn't over-emotional and too angry, AND trying to get my work done, it wasn't very fun.
By the time I got home, sore from fire drills and with a pounding headache, of course my sister decided she wanted to call me. You see, I had emailed her simply stating that I was disappointed in how she'd chosen to handle that moment, that she had betrayed me, and that in order to protect myself I just wasn't going to get involved in anything volatile in her life any more. I asked her not to ask me for cousnel or advice, not to try to confide anything in me, and not to ask me to confide anything in her.
So, at about 7:30pm, my sister started calling. First, the house. Then, the cell three times. She wasn't even letting the answering machines play through without calling back. When I answered, she tried to make me think she was calling to check on Mom's medical progress, which wasn't true, because she instantly started grilling me and trying to find some justification for what had happened that morning.
Of course, she had a million reasons "why" it was "okay" and why my mom would have somehow goaded her into it. I kept explaining that I didn't really care what she and my mom had said to one another to escalate things to that point, that my point was her betrayal of me and not anything else. She finally said she made a "mistake" and she was deeply sorry for her "mistake..." and then turned it around on me. I should have known.
She kept blabbering on about how *I* am a LIAR because I did not "stand up to Mom" and tell her that I thought sis was right about her assessment. And, for that reason, she basically backpedaled on her apology and then said she wasn't going to apologize unless *I* apologized. For something I didn't do.
Other amazingly cool and intellectual things she said were:
At 3am Pennsylvania time, she was supposedly roused by the wind and had to compose an email to us. Both of us. Me and mom. Both. [sarcasm] In it, she made some great points.[/sarcasm]
This one probably upsets me more than any:
My sister ended the letter by stating that although my niece and nephew are going to "be hurt by the situation," she feels it would be in their best interest if they were just taught that she's not close with her sister, and that we didn't have a relationship (nor me with my niece and nephew). She also insinuated the same thing with my mother.
I don't think she will realistically be able to maintain having no relationship with my mom, especially my mom and the kids. But unfortunately, she can drive that stake right through my heart, and she has. If she wants to punish me by keeping me from knowing about my niece and nephew - and she does - then that's what she'll do. So, as of right now I have to consider myself cut off from those two beautiful children.
As a result of what happened, I either stayed in bed, on the couch, or seated here in front of the computer all weekend. I didn't leave the house, I didn't go anywhere, I hardly ate anything, I'm feeling remarkably upset and hurt and very, very depressed and worked up.
I think I am going to go back to the doctor and see if I can get put on some medication to help me get over the hump while S. is gone. I never thought I would want to do that again, but after this weekend, sobbing in a ball on the couch... knowing I did nothing wrong but having the unfortunate circumstance of being related to a vindictive fucking bitch... so many things out of my control.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
What do you think?
New colors, new things, new look?
I can go back to the old way if we all hate it.
Friday, February 20, 2004
I'm tired. I know, I tend to say that a lot. Today I do not speak specifically of being physically tired (although I do feel that), but I do speak of being just emotionally drained.
I sit here while my dog Cody eats his lovely homemade breakfast - cooked vegetables, chicken and rice baby food, a chunk of raw hamburger, some yogurt, some cottage cheese, and a little dry food. Some days it's hard grated cheese and an egg and hamburger, other days it's spaghetti and beef baby food with some potatoes or rice... the menu varies from day to day, but I'm right back where I was nearly exactly five years ago... no, I am exactly where I was five years ago.
My dog Rocky had cancer in his stomach in 1999, and he was going through the diagnosis process in late January and early February. Every morning and every night I made him dinner, fed him his medications and vitamins, and took care of him. He was my life for two or three months until April 19, 1999 when we had to have him put down.
I talked to the vet last night and it turns out the one who called me on Monday morning (while my regular vet was out of town) didn't know enough about what we had already done, to make the diganosis that he did. Yes, Cody has an infection, and yes, the antibiotics should start to fix it, but something's got to be CAUSING the infection... and our vet seems to believe that it's probably cancer. The only way for us to know for sure is a $450+ surgical/punch biopsy to confirm it, and he doesn't want to put Cody or us through that. So, we are going to start treating him as if he were terminal with cancer. Since he probably is. And we're going to try to keep him as happy and comfortable as we can. And with any luck and hopefully with lots of people's happy thoughts and prayers, Cody will get some quality time with S. in early May, before he tells us it's time to let him go. Of course, I will do what is best for him and his quality of life.
I feel fortunate that at least Cody doesn't "act" sick. He strains a little bit to pee, but that's really it. He's eating well, playing great, maybe he seems a little more tired than he used to, but that also could be that he's going on 10 years old. I don't know.
In other news, my mom has to have surgery too, which has been scheduled for Friday, March 12. She has a stone in her bladder that has attached itself to the side of the bladder, so they have to go in and remove it. So I will be taking off some time to take care of her in that instance too.
One crisis after another, one more thing to do, one more thing to worry about. I'm starting to get stressed out or depressed to the point that when I come home, I don't want to DO ANYTHING. Laundry is piling up and there are some basic cleaning things that I look at and go, "Oh my god, I need to do that, that's awful," and then it doesn't get done for two or three more days. Just because this "tired" is so pervasive.
As a brief note on the physical tired side, we had a fire drill yesterday and we all walked down 25 floors... and my legs, from my ankles to my butt, are killing me. Fortunately I changed into my tennis shoes before going down the stairs or my foot would probably be pretty sore, too.
I'm just tired. I want to be able to go a week without some kind of a crisis. Some bill that desperately needs to be paid, some place I've got to be right fuckin now, some medicine I have to take, or give, some phone call I have to wait for impatiently, some kind of news. I'm so tired of it. Can't I just have a normal week where there is nothing insane to worry about, and nothing making me feel worried or afraid? Come on, World, I'm here to tell you: IF there's anything I haven't BEEN THROUGH in the last two years, I CAN'T PUT MY FINGER ON IT. So please, let me know how long I'm going to have to keep doing this, because I see people around me having normal, basic lives, and I don't feel like I've had one of those in a VERY LONG TIME.
At this rate, I am going to be full-blown bulemic and have an ulcer before I reach 35.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
AND BURN THE HOUSE DOWN
I had an awful dream last night.
I remember being in front of a block of elevators, similar to the foyer of the office where I work, obviously on a high floor of a building. I was with people I know through work, mainly folks who work for the local governments, waiting for an elevator to take us somewhere.
After minutes of waiting, no elevators opened for us and a couple of the men forced open one of the doors. The elevator inside had stopped just a foot shy of being at our floor. The people inside shouted, “Thank god you opened the door! We’ve been waiting so long!” They jumped out and before I could ask them what had happened, they disappeared down a corridor. The rest of the folks I was standing with entered the elevator (under those circumstances, I normally would not, as I have an issue with heights) and as I stood in the foyer and watched them, they started talking or shouting frantically. “The floor is so hot! Ow, don’t touch the walls, they’re really hot!”
They all got off the elevator and a column of flame came shooting up the elevator shaft, enveloping the elevator and shooting out from around it. I looked at the woman next to me and said, “Oh my god, my phone and my purse are in my room!” I took off running for my room.
After I exited the foyer, my surroundings looked more like a big mall, with atrium ceilings and escalators and lots of people milling about, but instead of stores around the perimeter it was all hotel rooms. I ran to my room, opened the door (guess I was holding onto my key) and found my purse and my cell phone.
I couldn’t get a signal on my phone and couldn’t dial S. to save my life. Nothing I did worked. I realized there were some text messages on my phone that read, “My clock stopped.” “Does your computer work?” “Trying to call you but can’t get through.” They were all from S. I tried the regular phone, but it was dead. Even my television couldn’t get a signal.
My recollection of the dream gets a little fuzzy right here, as I was then on my way running through the “hallways” of this large atrium hotel but I’m not completely certain where I was going. I was pushing through people, and strangers were brushing up against me (I have an issue with crowds) and I was the only person panicked in the scenario. Everyone else was just milling about as if nothing was wrong. I saw people trying to use their phones and PDA’s and I kept stopping, asking, “Does your phone work!?” “Is your Palm working!?” People would just look at me like I was insane and keep walking.
At some point I found myself at the top of an escalator in the mall-hotel and there was nowhere to go except to jump from where I was, to another platform. I, afraid of heights, would normally not attempt a jump like that but in the dream I did so… and that’s when it happened.
In real life, not dream-life, I knelt on the edge of the bed (as best as I can tell) and launched myself off the bed, landing on the floor and hitting my head on the corner of the plastic dog crate that’s beside the bed. Sleepwalking.
I woke up and reviewed what I remembered about my dream, and decided I was glad I woke up since I felt panicked and not rested. I climbed back in bed after feeling the new nugget on the side of my head, and tried to go back to sleep for the hour I had left. Of course, I resumed my dream.
I started trying hotel room doors, frantically looking for a room I could get into. I don’t remember why that was. Finally, I found a hotel door with a key still in it, and I turned the knob and entered. An old man was sitting on the side of the bed while his wife was getting dressed in the little vanity-nook found in most middle-level hotel rooms.
“My wife is naked,” he said. (she wasn’t.) I saw his laptop sitting on the desk and said, “Does your computer work?” I noticed his television was on and working. He said, “My wife is naked!” She looked at me and, as if nothing were odd, went about the business of putting her makeup on and brushing her hair. I commandeered the old man’s laptop computer, got on the internet (which was now conveniently working) and downloaded an article about a terribly huge solar flare that had knocked out all electronics for (however long it was) but now the flare was gone and everything should be normal, which is why the internet was available and I was able to print out a copy of the article. I handed it to the man, printed myself another copy and left his room, thanking him for the use of his equipment.
I had the article clutched in my hand and was heading off to find someone else to show it to them when my alarm rang and I woke up.
I stumbled across the hallway to get on the internet and post my recollection of the dream to the blog and email S., but my cable connection was out this morning.
No email. No internet.
Even my television couldn’t get a signal.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
I am stressed out.
Ah, don't you just love it when I dive right in and get to the nitty-gritty? I am stressed out. I'm a little stressed about work, I'm a lot stressed about my personal life, and I'm just feeling tired. I feel like I should have slept for three days straight this weekend instead of trying to keep my head above water a little bit.
The mornings come and the alarm goes off, and it's hard for me to rise and shine. I probably snoozed the clock a healthy four times this morning, such that I *had* to fly out of bed and put my feet on the floor or I would end up not making it to work on time. Not the best situation in the world.
Even after my shower, my hands smell like onions from making dinner the night before, which means before I leave here today I have to go wash them again with my cool foaming soap. But if I have to sit at work and smell old onions wafting up from between my fingers today...
So, a friend of mine at work confessed to me that she's going to be adopting a baby. From China! I'm so proud and happy for them. She explained that this process has taken years to come to fruition, and it looks like this year is the first year they are really going to be eligible. They're going to probably have to go to China to pick up their shiny new child some time late this summer, possibly about the time we will also be going through our major life change. This friend is a little more than a year older than me, and she provides me an inspiration - perhaps if S. and I don't get around to making a baby in time, we'd be able to adopt.
One of my other co-workers, though, is making me absolutely crazy, and I'm trying to find a way to handle it. You can' t talk to her about anything without her making this awful face... we call it, "the eyes." Her eyes get huge and bulgy and she grits her teeth and sticks out her chin and says, "grrrrrrrrr WHAT?!"
Rose: "I'm tired, man. And I still haven't heard from the vet yet."
Bulgy: "grrrrrrrrrWHAT? You haven't HEARD yet? How can that vet DO that to you? It's his JOB to call you! He's supposed to keep you informed! What kind of a doctor does he think he is? Doesn't he understand how stressed out this is making you? I don't understand how he even keeps clients. I wouldn't tolerate that. You shouldn't tolerate that."
Rose: "Uhhhhhhhhhhh. So anyway, this vegetable soup is good."
So, that's how lunchtime conversations go around there now, and if you manage to speak up about something around her at another time of day, she'll let you have it then too.
I have a monthly review today. S. has a test today. Overall and all around, it's a big day. Oh, and there's a baby shower, too.
Nothing like Mother Nature to test my patience by surrounding me with expectant mothers while my husband is 1600 miles away. Oh sure, I'd like a baby, but today I'd settle just for a good deep dicking. 68 more days to go.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
I went on a porn shopping spree yesterday.
I'm no porn connoisseur, and I don't particuarly have any one thing that I would call my "porn preference." I notice that as I get older and trends change, the whole anal sex thing seems to become more and more prevalent, but I can fast forward through that stuff if I really have to.
The fact of the matter is, I'm here alone at this house, I've gone through 3 sets of batteries in my "Husband Substitute," and it was time for me to look at some different pr0n. I'm tired of trying to find 20-second clips of crap on the internet, and besides, I don't have a comfy chair or anything on which to prop myself here in the computer room. I'm an old fashioned girl, and if I'm going to look at two actors screwing I want to be lounging on a comfortable piece of furniture.
So, I set out to my local Super Mega Mondo Killer Bitchen Adult Playthings Store, and started wandering the aisles.
I was determined to find something "good," as the last couple of times I've bought porn I've ended up with an amateur compilation of bullshit fucking and old craggy men and funny looking women who haven't shaved or trimmed any part of their body parts in 5 years. Something about women with big hair (on their heads and other places) that makes 80's porn completely unappealing to me. If I have the forethought to take care of my grooming issues -- for myself, not for my husband -- I would imagine it'd be nice to see women on the small screen doing the same.
I haven't had any "issues" about being in a porn shop since I was about 19 years old and went inside one for the very first time. I think the men in the porn DVD aisles were interested to see me browsing, but it's not like anyone looked at me or judged me. At least if you're all there, you're in the same place at the same time for the same reason.
So, I got some pr0n DVD's, both of them rather new (one a new release in the last two weeks, and another a new(er) release from Vivid with a girl or two that S. ended up recognizing) and I'm happy with my purchases. So is S. I'm going to share with him, of course, as we could both use some visual aids.
I feel bad for women who don't understand the appeal of porn, or who don't loosen up enough to enjoy it from time to time. Maybe it's something to do with being 34 years old and having a sexdrive to rival my husband's, but I rather enjoy it and find it to be something I choose not to live without.
Porn. The dessert of champions.
Monday, February 16, 2004
Preliminary testing on Cody shows a prostate infection and not prostate cancer. I will talk to the vet on Thursday for more information, and he's on antibiotics, but it looks like we will be able to treat this medically. We hope, anyway. We're not out of the woods yet, the infection is fairly severe and will need up to five weeks of antibiotic treatment and then another ultrasound.
In other news, my husband is blogging fairly regularly so if you haven't checked him out, please do so.
That is all.
Oh, My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiancee is the shit.
I am one of the most neurotic, amazingly jealous, stupidly honest people on the face of the planet. At the very least, I embody all that is idiotic and ignorant about women, and I have never been able to develop the skills to use those disadvantages to my advantage as other esteemed members of my gender have.
I have issues.
Last night while I'm talking with S., I jokingly mention that (because I am horny as hell and so is he, and we are far away from one another for another 71 days) some of the gals I work with have been teasing me about phone sex, and that we should do that while he's gone, to keep the spark alive.
So, thinking we'd get into a teasing conversation with one another about phone sex, maybe a little sexy discussion, you know, even if we didn't dive into the hard-core phone sex thing, I stayed in that vein for a moment.
It is important to realize that, interestingly, I have never participated in actual phone sex. So, I thought it might be something new and fun to try, you know, with my HUSBAND.
So the conversation went something like this:
Rose: "So, maybe that's something we should take up as a hobby."
S.: "I suck at it."
Rose: "I mean, don't you think it'd be fun to try?"
S.: "I suck at it."
Rose: "What do you mean, you suck at it? You've done it?"
S.: "Yeah. I'm no good at it."
Rose: "So you wouldn't want to do it."
Rose: "Who did you do it with?"
At this point in the conversation, a lightning bolt should have come out of the sky and struck me on my ignorant, jealous, completely oblivious head. Honestly, someone should have just come up behind me, grabbed me by the hair, and said, "Shut up, bitch, if you know what's good for you." Unfortunately, I was alone at home, so I did not have the benefit of a peanut gallery or a fairy godmother.
And right about here is where the "shitfuckpiss" portion of the conversation started. I had kind of expected him to say he'd done it with his ex wife when he was away for six months at a time, but instead he chose to tell me he did it with the inbetween girlfriend who he repeatedly berates and has told me, you know, that sex with her was nothing compared to sex with me (because I am the end-all and be-all of sex with my husband).
So, what did I do? Got jealous and angry and pissy and upset because something he did with someone he knew before he met me and was broken up with when we first dated, has tainted his perceptions of what could be "good" or "fun" to do and now I will never know what phone sex is like. Not that I think it should be as good as real sex, but I'm running out of porn here, and I've already gone through multiple sets of batteries in the plastic-husband-substitute. It's been a month.
So, I was - and on some level, I still am - frustrated and upset and angry. I don't like the idea that something he's done with someone else at another time in his life would taint his perception of something we could do together. And no, it's not just about the phone sex. I'm saying... let me see if I can create a hypothetical situation. If he's been to the best restaurant in town with some girl, and he had a shitty time because of the GIRL he was with, does that mean I don't ever get to go to the best restaurant in town? Even to try it?
Maybe it was HER fault the phone sex wasn't good. Maybe he just wasn't as connected with her as he thought he was, and was shy or nervous or something, and couldn't get off himself. Maybe SHE was just bad at touching herself and didn't know how to get HERSELF off! There are a lot of scenarios that could have contributed to a less-than-optimum experience, and here I am the one that never gets to try it now because of some memory of some former flame that didn't pan out (for many, many reasons, but that's the snarky bitch in me coming out again).
I mean, I would have probably been nervous as all hell if he had said, "Sure, baby, go get naked, let's have phone sex." Having never done it, I don't have any expectations of what was supposed to come out of it, but I also don't know where to start.
But I'm not seeking advice for how to do it, since I'm never going to be able to do it.
Just kinda peering through the toy store window at the stuff I can't afford to buy.
Friday, February 13, 2004
Well, I suppose I should give an update.
First, news of the dog. This morning, I am dropping him off at the vet, where he will get an ultrasound-assisted biopsy of his prostate. His blood work came back pretty much perfectly normal, meaning he's not diabetic, he's not in kidney failure, et al. The vet seems to think we're going to find cancer and is trying to prepare me for that, although there's a "small chance" that he could have a cyst or something. But, it's a VERY small chance.
I'm just trying to go minute by minute, right now.
Thank you all for your kind thoughts.
In other news, S. got his "care package" from me. I may have gone a little overboard, but I think he sincerely enjoyed each of the things in it. Protein bars, hot sauce, noodle bowls, coffee and creamer, candy, cookies, Valentines, magazines... I think he now feels like he's got some good snacks, and a taste of home, plus he's now got a picture of the two of us.
I'm praying we have a short day at work today, as I could use the time to go get Cody, go home, keep an eye on him for a while and then see if I'm going out for a bit with Maury. We never did go out on my birthday for obvious reasons, and maybe I could use an evening out. I know I can sure use the three day weekend coming up.
So anyway, yeah, it's Friday. Any triskadekaphobics?
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Well, the birthday omen does come true.
I just got home from the vet with Cody, my sheltie/border collie. He is 10 years old and I thought he was losing weight, so I took him in for a checkup.
He’s lost 7 pounds (out of 28) since August. They drew blood and took urine and are going to do tests and call me tomorrow with the results.
He also felt his prostate, and said it feels enlarged.
While the possible outcomes of this are: Diabetes (treatable), Kidney “problems” (treatable), Kidney Failure (progressive), and Prostate Cancer (not treatable), he is obviously preparing me for prostate cancer.
This will be the third pet in four years, and second pet in less than six months, if he ends up having prostate cancer.
Please. Please, please, please. Please send some happy vibes our way. I don’t know if I can go through this on my own, and it’s going to be trying on both my and S.'s hearts and pocketbook in the meantime.
At the end of September, I put down Ceejay, my seven year old cat, because she had mast cell cancer. The emergency veterinary clinic charged me $550 for the privilege. We’re going to be $500 in before we even know for sure what’s going on with Cody, and we still want to give him the best life we can for as long as we can.
Any positive thoughts or prayers you can send our way will be amazingly and ultimately appreciated.
... except he DID!
Just got flowers from the hubby, and they're beautiful.
Well, this is it, the big day. I've got to say it wasn't very fun for the alarm to go off at 4:30 a.m. I wa dreaming about something-or-other and it depended on this-and-that, and I had my arms and legs wrapped around my bodypillow... when the clock went off, I became painfully aware that I was alone and chilly in my snuggly buggly bed instead of turning 34 in the arms of the man I love. But, then I figured I better stop feeling sorry for myself and jump out of bed so I can start getting ready.
I'm out of the shower and ready to go to an event for my work this morning at one of the fancy resorts in town, and I have to be there at 6:30 a.m. I also have to stop on my way and drop off my car insurance payment at my agent's office, which is fortunately really on the way there.
Then I think we're going out to lunch "in my honor" today, the girls I work with. That's very nice.
And then after work, I am taking Cody to the vet. I get off at 3:30 today since I'm going in at 6:30.
Tonight, if Maury isn't free, then I'm either going to just go home and crash or see if I can talk my mother into going to the sushi bar with me.
Pretty much a normal day, except I'm technically a year older today than I was yesterday. Funny how that works, huh?
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
I got a birthday card from S.
"To the Woman I'm So Glad I Married"
I'm a better man
because of you -
lifted by your enthusiasm,
strengthened by your support,
and constantly renewed
by your love...
You make all the difference
in my life,
and I couldn't have married
a more wonderful woman
I love you."
Well holy smokes, Batman, maybe today will be a better day. Thank you, if you read this, my love.
I'm sitting here in the office while my clothes are in the dryer, watching my dog eat his breakfast. That I just cooked him. Trying to fatten up this puppy. I can't tell any difference in anything quite yet, but it's really only been a couple of days. He's eating plain yogurt, cheese, ham, eggs, vegetable oil, anything pseudo-fattening I can put in a bowl for him that I don't think will hurt him. Last night I thought I actually started to notice maybe I couldn't feel his backbone "quite as much." The hard thing about this is, he's never EVER been a fat dog. He has never been overweight, he's always had his bones sticking out a little bit. S. says that I am probably just over-reacting, looking for something to grasp onto that might give me something to put my energy into, but at the same time he says if I need to take Cody to the vet he's behind me for my decision.
Cody is just so neurotic, I am worried and/or concerned that perhaps if he has lost some weight it is due to stress and sadness over S. being gone.
Last night, I went to eat sushi with my friend Ron. Leaving work yesterday, which seemed all around to be kind of a hellacious day even for all the other people in my department, I was looking forward to getting there a little bit ahead of Ron and having a martini. Which, I did. And I was feeling a little happy when Ron showed up. We had great sushi and good conversation, and I'm happy to hear that he is really happy in his relationship with his girlfriend and that everything is going great for them. On the way home from the sushi bar, I actually started to cry a little bit about that.
S. and I had one of those days yesterday where nothing connected, anything either one of us said was like starting a fight for the other one, and it wasn't very fun. Here we were, typing in ALL CAPS to each other over Yahoo! Messenger, because we didn't want to be on the phone yelling at each other or something. It's less personal when you argue over the chat, than it is when you argue with voices.
See, I'm worried about him. I'm worried that he's so frustrated there. And he's worried about me, because I'm not taking this separation very well. I just didn't think it was going to be this hard. In the middle of the day at work sometimes I just want to go to the bathroom or take a walk around the block, and cry. Because I don't want to get up in the morning and go to work, and I don't want to leave work in the evening and go home. Depression at its finest.
So, S. and I had a long talk about that, last night, and it seems like I am going to have to just fight a little harder not to get sucked into the sadness of all of this. I want us to be able to really start our life together, and I guess I know for SURE that can't happen until he comes home, but at the same time it might not really happen until we are starting over in a place we've never been before. Maybe it's a blessing.
Part of it is that every time I get a fucking bill here at the house with the evil cuntrageous shitbag's name on it, I get angry and upset. I don't even have mail coming to ME here at the house with my new married name on it, and yet the ex-wife's fucking mail with HER former married name all over it comes here and I have to open it and check balances on bills and stuff. This is karma, but I am starting to understand why people put up paypal buttons on their site when they're at the end of their rope and they're just looking for some help staying afloat. I've criticized that on more than one occasion, but the last few mornings driving to work after finding more mail addressed to her, bills piling up, it makes sense to me.
We have about $15,000 in her bills... bills that were run up BY her at the time she was married to my husband, that she refused to pay... on a military salary, that's really hard to pay all those bills. S. thought he was doing the right thing by doing whatever he had to do to be rid of her drug using lying pathetic ass, and so when she said she wouldn't divorce him unless he took ALL THE BILLS to pay (you see, she never really had a real job, so how was she going to pay them?) he did that. To try to protect his own credit as well as just get her the fuck out of his life. I guess he wasn't thinking about how long it was going to take him - or us - to get them all paid off.
And now that I'm here at the house, by myself, every day brings another reminder of her. Collections notices, various credit card bills, even the Guitar Center bill for the guitar and eqiupment she HAD TO HAVE and then hardly played. So, I'm just taking as much extra money as I can out of my own pocket and out of what S. sends me, and I'm going to put it all towards paying that stuff off as fast as humanly possible.
I'm sure not a very positive polly lately, am I?
Monday, February 09, 2004
DON’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T COME.
Weird things about today:
The Naked Cowboy is in front of my building today, singing in his underwear. For reals. I peeked at him through the lobby window.
The care package I sent to S. is 19 pounds. That’s 19 pounds of crap I’m sending to my husband. Thank goodness most of it is edible and consumable, because he wouldn’t want to have to haul 19 extra pounds of shit home with him.
It’s supposed to be there either by end of day Thursday, or end of day Friday, depending on which node of UPS you ask.
19 pounds of love.
Sunday, February 08, 2004
Please do this. If you read this blog, if I've linked you, if you've linked me, if all or none of those things have happened, please do this.
Please visit Saving Citizen Daryl and read what he has to say.
I don't really care if you agree with what he feels or not. I don't really care if you think he's stupid for what he thinks or if you think he's a strong-willed, bold thinker. None of this matters.
What matters to me is that my brother Daryl get some word of mouth traffic for his website. So, dear reader, here is what ELSE I want you to do.
If you can donate to his cause, do. If you can't, that's okay too. Either way... maybe you could mention his website on YOUR website.
This isn't "Save Karyn." Daryl is trying to raise money to move his family out of this country and to the Netherlands, where he states he would gladly clean toilets for a living if that's what it would take. He's not looking to live high on the hog. Daryl works full time and his wife also works, and they can't save up enough money to make the move.
Read what he has to say. Link him, please. Say something about what he has to say. If you agree, toot his horn. If you disagree, toot YOUR horn.
Daryl's idea deserves some looking.
I thank you wholeheartedly for doing it. If you link him, please leave a comment here so I can track how many people do it.
And if you're the first one, don't fucking sit around waiting to see if someone else is going to do it. Just do it. What have you got to lose?
I am going to be 34 years old on Wednesday.
For the first time in my life, I feel... old. Like 34 is SO much worse than 33. Like suddenly, I am "behind" in this game of life and I need to catch up or give up.
All of these idiotic feelings stem from the fact that S. is so far away and I am going to spend this birthday AND this valentine's day alone, with my female reproductive organs rotting inside my CryptKeeper mummified corpse of a body, maintaining my status of "at least 2 years from starting a family."
It doesn't help me that my dad decided to let me know recently that starting a family in my 30's is not fair to the future vision of my unborn child, because then the kid will have to grow up with a mom who's too old to be cool, or fun, or whatever. This does not apply to my husband, as he is five years younger than me (go me!).
So. I'm going to be 34, am childless with no current plans to reproduce, alone in this fucking house. I am whirling and swirling mentally with the idea of what is to come in the next 12 months in terms of life-changes, and trying to keep a grasp of what is real and important, while not making myself look like an overemotional flake to my husband. Who, by the way, I desperately want to be proud of me for the "strength" and "courage" with which I handle these three months and all of the fucking upcoming fucking life changes.
The end result is a whimpering, blubbering, whining 34 year old woman whose life is basically on hold, moping around my house alone, crying at the slightest thing, and being sad every time I have a period because it means there's one less egg to fertilize later.
For the first fucking time ever, I feel old, and I am dreading my birthday. I fear so much this year. I fear everything. I fear absolutely everything. Currently, I fear what might be wrong with my dog, who Shawn says there's nothing wrong with him... Cody, my bordercollie/sheltie, seems to be losing some weight. So I am on a mission to see if I can fatten him up a little, as he eats plenty but he's SO stressed out and SO sad since Shawn left, I wonder if he's not just going outside and getting sick (he pukes when he's stressed out). IT's not like I would know, as I haven't seen him puke but Boomer would eat it anyway if he WERE puking.
But anyway, I digress... if I can't get some extra meat on his bones (which I can feel now) by this Saturday I'm going to take him to the vet to see if he's got a worm, which he might have, but I also dread having to go through putting ANOTHER animal down for cancer or some type of serious illness without S. here. Cody has no symptoms of anything being wrong, he's eating fine, drinking fine, pooping and peeing, energetic, happy, snuggly, exciteable, and wonderful as always. He also has gas, as he just let the raunchiest nastiest smelling dogfart in the history of time, and my monitor has started to melt.
So let's sum up.
1) My dog might be sick, but I don't know yet.
2) My husband is 1600 miles away and I am not coping after 3 weeks.
3) Work is fine, but give me a while and I'll create something to worry about there.
4) I'm trying to lose weight and can't tell if I am or not.
5) I am a blubbering mess.
6) I am not pregnant and won't be pregnant any time soon.
7) I don't know if I am content being an aunt without being a mother.
8) I am horny as MOTHERFUCKING HELL and there's no amount of porn or vibrators that will do anything about it.
9) I will be 34 on Wednesday.
10) I feel old.
11) I will be 34 on Wednesday.
12) I feel old.
13) I am alone, and lonely, and plan to spend Valentine's Day and my birthday huddled in a corner crying, talking myself out of eating a pint of Ben & Jerry's to make myself feel better, and hating my fucking existence.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
I tossed and turned all night and hardly got any sleep, and when I finally did get a few Z's at about 4:00 a.m., I had to dream and pee at the same time. I dreamed that I was waiting in line to use the bathroom and everyone was taking way too long to do their business so I dropped my pants and hopped up on a sink and decided to pee in the sink.
Then, in my dream, I was heavy enough that the sink RIPPED itself out of the wall, water spewed everywhere and over everyone, and a bunch of men ran to me to lift me off the sink so they could try to fix it as I stood there with my pants around my ankles, soaked from head to toe, with lots of women glaring at me.
What does that say about me? You know, besides that I should try to get sleep before 4:00 a.m.?
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
For anyone who cares, my husband updated his blog and looks like he'll be trying to update regularly from school.
If you stop over, leave him a note. He's having a pretty rough time.
What I've Got In Common With Asherah
1. Copy this whole list into your blog.
2. Bold the things that you have in common with me.
3. Whatever you don't bold, replace with things about you. Please add a comment if you do it so that I can come read it!
I love my coffee, daily.
I am an Aquarius
I like to read, but I don’t read nearly enough.
I love soaking in a long, hot bath.
I like broccoli & cheese.
I am trying to have a good relationship with my Mom.
I have no regrets in my life, because it has all been a learning tool & stepping stone for me.
I don't really miss my hometown.
I love to eat sushi.
I like cats.
I have two dogs.
I am happily married.
I've never been to Bermuda.
My favorite color is red.
I suck at backing into parking spots.
I enjoy a variety of musical styles.
I like to spend time by myself, but I occasionally get lonely.
I want to travel the world.
I like a nice glass of wine in the evening.
I have a number of favorite meals.
I am very moody at times.
I don’t eat beef jerky any more.
I don't have any tattoos or piercings, besides my ears.
I hate having wet socks!
I wish I were (quite a few) pounds lighter.
I don't usually care what other people think of me.
I don't like talking on the phone much. If it can be said in email, whohoo!
I hate telemarketers.
I can't stomach straight Tequila anymore.
I'm too opinionated.
I secretly like singing along to country music.
I dream about sex quite a bit.
I lack the gift of tactfulness.
I vote. I am semi-political.
I am not as wealthy as I'd like to be.
I am a registered Republican.
I will probably be changing my party affiliation this year.
I sing often. To the radio, etc.
I can’t wait for the day I am finally a mom.
I don't like the Summer and the extreme heat. (Note here that I enjoy the summer, just not extreme heat.)
I really enjoy thoughtful gifts, even if they cost nothing.
I love crafts, but in general I suck at making anything cool.
My father is opinionated about me, and my life.
I'm a tomboy-girl.
I hate the idea of snakes & spiders in my immediate vicinity.
I love beer.
I don’t really like to go barefoot.
I get sunburned at least once a summer, by accident.
I have cable internet connection.
I drive a SUV.
I like silence at times.
I don't go to church.
I have been known to procrastinate on occasion.
I suck at staying in touch with people, but I do try.
I always try to be a good person and love people.
I'm willing to try fixing mechanical things, but I don’t often succeed.
I rarely wear makeup anymore.
I own my home.
I rarely see movies at the theater because I don’t like to go alone.
I have always strived to do what’s right. I usually do pretty well.
I am addicted to blogging.
I love to play computer games.
I love chinese food.
I sometimes remember my dreams.
I like to people-watch.
I am getting more & more forgetful.
I love getting handwritten letters.
I love to take pictures of almost anything.
I love gadgets.
I have a hard time picking out shoes.
I love candles.
I love my online friends.
I keep my nails manicured & "done".
I love to dance.
I love professional manicures.
I make my own incense.
I have a few close friends.
I have never been arrested.
I love my friends more than anything.
I didn't get a flu shot this year.
I speak fluent Spanish.
I hate tailgaters and slow to a crawl just to piss them off.
I dislike the smell of fingernail polish.
I love to watch movies.
I daydream sometimes.
I dread my first grey hair, so I’m coloring it.
I would love to work with wild animals.
I am easily annoyed.
I have a really dirty mind.
I'm ready for this list thing to be over.
I love and am fairly decent at picking out presents for others.
I would love to be famous some day.
I always appreciate honesty, even if the truth sometimes hurts.
I like to help people.
I am, unfortunately, addicted to reality TV.
I buy things for people just because.
I'm glad this is done!
Article found on Yahoo. Via Fark.
Texas Pharmacist Refuses Pill for Rape Victim
DALLAS (Reuters) - A Texas pharmacist was disciplined for refusing to fill the prescription of a rape victim seeking a morning-after pregnancy-prevention pill, the pharmacy chain that employed the man said on Tuesday.
Eckerd Corp. said the pharmacist considered it a violation of morals to give a rape victim, with a valid prescription, a pill that would prevent her from getting pregnant due to the sexual assault.
The incident took place on Jan. 23 at an Eckerd drug store in the Dallas suburb of Denton.
Eckerd spokeswoman Joan Gallagher said she could not give details of the disciplinary actions, but that the pharmacist had violated company policy.
"A pharmacist is obliged to fill a prescription if it is a valid, legal prescription," she said. "We do not make exceptions for any moral, religious or ethical concerns with regard to filling the prescription."
Florida-based Eckerd is owned by Texas-based retailer J.C. Penney Co..
Protesters, carrying signs reading "Got Raped? Let someone else help you" and "Rape violates my morals," have been picketing the store this week.
Kathryn Allen, a spokeswoman for Planned Parenthood of North Texas, said the situation could have been avoided if hospitals in the state mandated emergency contraception in sexual assault cases. Other states stipulate that hospitals must make emergency contraception available to victims of sexual assault, but Texas does not.
"What this pharmacist did was truly outrageous. It forces the woman to relive the assault," said Allen, adding that the prescription in question is essentially a high dose of birth control pills that prevents pregnancy.
The rape victim was able to have her prescription filled at another pharmacy in the area, they said.
That said, I don’t know exactly what to say about this. This person should be fired, and should this woman end up having a baby, they should be financially responsible for the child until age 18.
Here’s a woman who went through a terrible trauma, and got a lecture from a pharmacist and was refused a prescription? What if she were a gay man and an AIDS patient here to get his cocktail of meds to prolong his life, would the pharmacist have denied that prescription too on the basis that AIDS is a plague to rid the world of gays?
This article makes no mention of the pharmacist’s faith, but it doesn’t much matter to me what it is. Although I did make an assumption that it’s a Christian forcing their beliefs on others, the fact remains that this person should have much, much more happen to them than being reprimanded by their employer. They should lose their job, and no other pharmacy should ever hire them.
How many other times has this happened? How many prescriptions has this guy refused? Who the HELL actually believes that their FAITH gives them the right to dispense or not dispense medication to someone based on their own personal morals?
I'm already in a mood.
It must have rained last night, because I slept long and hard, and didn't want to get up this morning. Once again I am stuffy-nosed and feeling tired, which leads me to believe I may be on the road to being sick, and I'm really trying not to be. But if I had half a brain, I'd probably just call in to work and go to bed.
So this Janet Jackson boob "scandal" is really starting to tick me off. In my office there's a few people that have kids, and one of them is a lady in her 40's that has a 12 or 13 year old son. First of all, let me just say that she's one of the most negative people I have ever had the pleasure (?) of meeting in my entire LIFE. She is recently divorced, single mom, and the prolems of the world are constantly blamed on the entire idiotic gender of philandering, evil men. I swear to God/dess, this lady a MONTH before I got married said something to me like, "ALL MEN CHEAT AND THERE'S NO WAY AROUND IT, THEY ARE JUST ALL SCUM." She said this as I was talking about S. and our weekend plans, or something idiotic. And then she found out I was getting married and she briefly put her hatespew on hold... but then after the wedding she started right back up.
So, we're talking about the boob, just like everyone else on the planet. Three girls at lunch on Monday talking about the boob. And she says: "That Janet Jackson, she's ALWAYS been a SLUT, it's just DISGUSTING, I will NEVER let [my son] see ANYTHING like that."
And right at that moment, I had this flash of her kid in about five years, tattooed, using drugs, drinking anything he can get his hands on, skipping school, and acting out because his mom tried to shelter him from everything on the planet.
This kid is 13 years old. If she thinks he can't get on the internet and see a close-up, high-res picture of Janet's nipple piercing in all its metallic glory, she's delusional - but if she stands behind him while he's playing on the computer every second of the evening, too, then she's got more issues than I thought.
We've talked about this stuff before. This is a woman who won't "let" him listen to certain things - but then she doesn't listen to mainstream pop radio to find out that people are singing about stripping naked and backing that booty up, over the radio where he could listen all day in a walkman if he wanted to. She complains that MTV is filth but won't watch it herself to be aware of things like Christina Aguilera being a slutty whorebag or Outkast dancing around with women in G-strings and hot pants.
This is what bothers me.
Don't misunderstand; I don't like MTV, and I think the majority of pop music today is idiotic and sex-driven. I don't have any children so it's hard for me to say I think kids should, or should not, be exposed to those things... I can say that if I had kids, I would certainly be disappointed that the world had taken a turn like this, but I don't think I would delude myself into believing that I could keep my kid from hearing popular radio every hour of the day that he's not at the house.
I try to picture her household and what they do for fun - can't watch TV because it's full of sluts, whores, and assholes. Can't listen to the radio, because it's all sexed up. Can't rent movies, because they're full of violence, sex, and innuendo. This kid is going to grow up with lots, lots, LOTS of problems.
She is even worried that "The Sims" with add-ons like "Busting Out" and "Hot Date" are too racy for her son, so she doesn't want to let him play that game... I don't think he's allowed to play shoot-em-up games, either. Can you imagine a 12 year old boy sitting on the computer playing Bejeweled until he has to go to bed, because he can't watch TV, can't play Vice City, can't listen to the radio (or any CD's)...
It's crazy. Crazy and sad. I suppose it's something I will have to deal with soon enough, but any mother who thinks her 13 year old hasn't seen boobies, a dirty magazine or two or twelve, who hasn't listened to the radio and sang along with dirty song lyrics... she's a little bit misinformed.
In other news, looks like Kerry is sweeping the nation in the Democratic caucuses and primaries. I can't say I know if he can beat George W. in November or not, but I guess I'm going to have to put all my eggs in that basket. I don't know. I'd hate to see George in for four more years, but at the same time, you have to protect the interests you think are yours. I'm going to have to research where Kerry stands on things.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
My hits for the day? Tripled.
People searching for pictures of Janet Jackson's bare breast.
Thank you, Google, Dogpile, and Overture.
Well, Janet Jackson, brainchild that she is, has admitted that MTV and CBS didn't know about her boobie fest until after it happened... I still don't buy it, but what are you gonna do? This was publicity pure and simple. Oh, well.
I have a sore throat today, and am hoping that by the end of the week I don't end up sick. Lots of folks sick at my work as best as I can tell. Spent yesterday trying to get back on my feet, working on my expense reports and stuff from the trip to school, and feeling tired... so why was I up until almost 11pm last night? Glutton. For. Punishment.
In other news, both cats, who seem to hate one another, slept on the bed with me last night and there were no cat fights.
I really am feeling pretty pooped. School wore me out, as I was completely out of my element and out of my own bed. A week of that is enough to make anybody crazy. I hope to get back to normal this week.
My throat hurts. My throat hurts and my boss has been out of the office with a throat/head/chest thing early this week and part of last week. So, I'm really hoping I'm not getting sick. It's my birthday next week and although I probably won't be doing much of anything with anyone, I hope to at least treat myself to some sushi and not be sick.
Monday, February 02, 2004
Okay, here it is, let's get it over with.
A picture of Janet Jackson's bare breast at the Super Bowl. Now we will be flooded with freaks, my brother Daryl is going to disown me, but at least we've dealt with the "massive controversy." It's a nipple ring, for chrissakes. I'll agree it has no place on halftime primetime but what are you gonna do?
I am on the express train to hell. Anyone wanna come?
My job as a military wife is
to make it as easy as possible
for my beloved husband to do his job.
Where he leads, I will follow.
Husband: SSgt, USAF
Current Location: Tinker AFB, OK
Job: Self-Employed Transcriptionist
and Domestic Goddess
I am currently pimping:
me @ consumating
I play Everquest II!
Iksar Necromancer, Kithicor
We're trying for a baby!
Pagan Military Wives Webring
sablerose70 at hotmail dot com
Pagan Military Wives
More Military Wives
Thanks for the LinkyLove
Googly Moogly Home
< ? Pagan Military Wives # >
< ? MilWives Group H.U.G.S. # >
< Military Bloggers >
< ? Sarcastic Geeks # >
< ? Verbosity # >
< # Blogging Bitches ? >
< ? Cheeky Girls # >
< ? Not A Bimbo # >
< ? I Love My Cleavage! # >
My Mary Kay Consultant is Chris Noteware
I lurves me some Adagio Tea!
Saving Citizen Daryl
Internet Horndog Transcripts
Strong Bad Email
West Memphis Three
Original template by maystar
altered by Rose, graphics by Rose
Pinup Toon by Rion Vernon
image is used with his permission.
powered by blogger
|| maystar designs ||