Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Sometimes you read things and feel sad for humankind; you are frightened for them, really.

Sometimes you read things and feel sad for humankind; you are frightened for them, really.

There was a blog about the violence inflicted on gay people and the rise of it as more people speak out against discrimination and gay rights. Blah blah blah I didn't even read the blog, but was linked somehow to the comments underneath. I went on to read Denise's comments and was floored.

I have been fortunate enough to have been raised in the most wonderful, normal, and loving family. To this day they drive me to be the best person I can. One thing that I am eternally grateful for is the strength that they have given me. Man bashing aside, though it is a fun past time of ours to blame men for the stupidities in the world (hahhaha right mom. oh , yeah, sorry guys...) my family has very strong women. Not to discount the men, but the women, in numbers, and attitudes, dominate. I know no other way than to be strong, but it does not come naturally. We have all learned this strength and fight throughout the years, as we continue to learn still.

I wanna thank those women I've looked up to for standing up and speaking up. For never giving up. For knowing that when the worst was the worst, it really wasn't, and that they have the power to change it. My response to this poor unfortunate woman is the last one. And no matter what your religious, political, or specifically gay rights views, you can agree that her comments are unnecessary and hateful.

************************************************************

I found that to be a wake up call. We are always saying that things are changing and as far as I'm concerned, it's not really changing. It's just more taboo for them to bash us in public but I know it's still going on in churches and in homes. You have to wonder what your own family might be saying about you when you walk out of the door.

by I Have a Thought on December 18th, 2008 at 11:15 am
..

There's a whole lot wrong with that. The number one thing being you're equating apples and oranges. Sexual deviates are not discriminated against because of some learned prejudice. The reason they are not accepted is because heterosexuals, all to some degree, see the actual physical things homosexuals do with revulsion. As a heterosexual, I promise you that if I imagine myself involved in a homosexual tryst too vividly, I become nauseated. It's not bigotry or senseless hatred you're struggling against, it's nausea. And no one wants to be nauseated. People naturally avoid sources of nausea. When people inescapably have sources of nausea shoved in their faces, they naturally rebel in some way. You mistakenly refer to this rebellion as "anti-gay" violence. You're way wrong with that.

Where the problems come is when people are openly confronted with sources of nausea. A few decades back, when you all were in the "closet", anti-homosexual violence was more rare. That is because there were fewer sources of nausea. If you'll dress and act like the mainstream population out in public and keep what you do in your bedroom, you'll have much fewer problems. If you go out in public rubbing it in people's faces, fairly soon you'll get the shit knocked out of you by someone you're making genuinely physically sick. Simple as that. It's a damn shame you can't understand that and waste so much of your resources and time laboring for the impossible under a futile delusion. Just drop all this rights thing and enjoy your lives in private. Damn, don't you know what a pogrom is? No sense trying to get yourselves nominated as number one candidate for the next one that comes along. Read a little relevant history, keep your heads low, and survive.

by Denise Stafford on December 21st, 2008 at 4:53 pm
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Denise… it's hate like you have displayed in your comment that has this country falling apart. But the greatest thing about a comment like yours is that it reminds people like me to keep my head held higher, challenge history, and live a far greater life than just simply surviving.

by goldstardyke on December 21st, 2008 at 5:09 pm
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Goldstar, I don't hate you or anyone else. I honestly wish you and all your kind the best. But you should agree nature dictates you'll always be in a minority. Period. The essay I responded to pointed out the correlation between heightened homosexual activism and increased violence toward that group. I promise you I haven't contributed to the numbers. Homosexuality is an unfortunate genetic condition to which normal people are hard wired to respond with revulsion despite what drums the freaks in Hollywood beat. You're not going to change human nature. The more hell you raise, the more harm you're going to bring your kind. Just look at results of recent ballot proposals. Quit while you're ahead and be happy before you bring genuine grievances upon yourselves.

by name Denise Stafford on December 21st, 2008 at 7:04 pm
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Denise, I won't go back and forth on the issues. I see things my way and you yours. I wish the world could find a happy medium, but I fear it my never happen. If homosexuals make you want to vomit please move on to another blog.

by goldstardyke on December 21st, 2008 at 7:57 pm
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Denise, I really hope you are a teenager, like myself.

I can tolerate fellow teenagers saying things like that.. because sadly, many 16 year olds are close minded and ignorant of many things.

However I find it truly disappointing and honestly it makes me quite sad to hear adults speak like that. It is disrespectful and unbelievably ignorant. It's quite obvious that this is a website geared towards homosexuals.. so if your views are blatantly against homosexuality, what exactly do you hope to gain from saying such things? I highly doubt any of the authors or writers here (or many other people, for that matter) would agree with your opinion that all heterosexuals "become nauseated" by gays and lesbians.

"The reason they are not accepted is because heterosexuals, all to some degree, see the actual physical things homosexuals do with revulsion." This is a direct quote from what you said, and it is extremely false. You, personally, might become nauseated by "the actual physical things homosexuals do" and that is perfectly fine, however I can guarantee you that not ALL heterosexuals feel this way, mainly because I have many heterosexual friends that are perfectly ok with homosexuality. No one is forcing you to be accepting of certain views, as it is obviously not possible.

However, if you wish to call yourself a respectable adult, I would have hoped that you would have enough maturity to be capable of respecting other people's views, opinions, and beliefs. Do you see me verbally abusing you and telling you that what you do with individuals you are attracted to disgusts me? Do I tell you that you are nauseating? No. So please, especially around the holidays, do us all a favor and pull together enough maturity to grow up.

Em..s last blog post..aaah! src="http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/wp-content/plugins/commentluv/images/littleheart.png"

by Em on December 21st, 2008 at 8:24 pm
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Dear Em and Goldstar,

I'll take one last shot at explaining myself. My response wasn't directed at you two. Probably nothing can be said which could change the minds of such firebrand activists. But not all homosexual females march, riot, curse for the TV cameras, and show the uglier side of themselves to the public in the name of overreaching "rights". Once again I was pointing out the relation between increased lesbian activism and violence against lesbians.

This violence doesn't single out the activists who are stirring the pot of disgust. The victims of the backlash are generally just everyday innocent females, some lesbians, some like myself who are not, who have the misfortune to encounter those you've enraged. These are the women I am trying to persuade to take a second look at your organized activism and the single thing it's undeniably accomplishing for us; increased incidences of assault. I am simply asking readers to consider facts and reconsider supporting these futile and dangerous activist movements.

One fact is throughout the animal kingdom aggression and competition defines male sexual behavior. It is a deadly serious area of natural behavior. The sexual identity of heterosexual males is ultimately the most important aspect of their existence. Threatening or compromising this identity is the single cause of violence against lesbians by male heterosexuals.

All women should realize this fact without the physical trauma of experience; having our teeth knocked down our throats or our little female bones snapped like twigs by enraging the much superior physical power of the human heterosexual male who, by God's design, will continue to dominate our species. It's just common sense. Dress and act like a normal female in public and you'll greatly increase the chances you'll be treated like one

by name Denise Stafford on December 23rd, 2008 at 9:55 am
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Hahahahahahahaha an activist? Honey I'm a 16 year old in high school. I can assure you I wear make up and I dress like a "normal" female, tight jeans, chucks, fitted tops from AE and abercombie… I'm not an enraged dangerous lesbian activist and I find it hysterical that you refer to me as such.

So… Denise I think you should just stop. Really. I dress like a normal female in public, and I get treated like one too. I promise. It's just people like you that make a big stink over things.

Oh, and I'm pretty sure heterosexual males everywhere are cringing over the fact that you made them all sound extremely shallow by saying "The sexual identity of heterosexual males is ultimately the most important aspect of their existence."

************************************************************

Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God.
I'm nauseated by the comments made by Denise. I am in awe, sitting here at my computer. 1, what is your agenda on a lesbian site posting such hate? ANd I'm sorry, but claim as much as you want that it's not hate, but nothing will ever convince me of that. What is it that draws you to this site? What is it in you that makes you think speaking this way is ok? That is does anything positive for yourself, or us, or the universe, or "your cause"? Why do you seek out those things you don't agree with, people that you only have ill thoughts and feelings towards, and bash them? That is my only question.
Who told you it was a good idea to put your head down and keep quiet? If that were the answer, more than half the people in this country would have their heads down. And I don't mean half are lesbians. Black people would still be slaves. They wouldn't vote, or marry, or have been desegregated. Women would still be quietly coasting through opressed existences and marriages and be barefoot and pregnant, uneducated, unemployed, and silenced in all areas of their lives. This country would be all white instead of the wonderful and culturally-diverse union it is. Obama, Hillary…we would have never seen their faces on TV. Is that the answer for you in your life? Fear the man and take what's coming to you, or worse, just take what you can get? Do you have no fight in you, no drive, no pride? I am not trying to get catty with you at all, I will not resort to name calling or insults, though the "animal" in me would love to settle this the good ole fashioned "animal kingdom" way you speak of. And do you know why I'd win that fight, Denise? Because you are afraid of what you don't know. Can you win, should you try? Are they going to hurt you, cast you out? You don't know. Instead of fighting for yourself, you let others decide what will happen to you. You put your head down and act like they want you to, not as you really feel in your heart. (If you're about to rebut by saying you are acting on what's in your heart by making these arguments, don't even try it. It is not out of love that you speak these words.)
I don't need to run the streets screaming that I'm in love with a female for the ooh's and aah's. But I certainly will never deny it, not for you, not for me, and not for those wishing that I, we ALL, would just sit down and shut up. They wished that with African Americans, and women, and countless other "minority" groups, but they didn't do anything of the sort. And thank God (yes, my GOd is the same God as yours) they didn't. Think of where we, and that includes you, would be.
My only hope for you is love and acceptance, and to actually understand what those words mean. I wish for you compassion and peace in your heart. When you find it, you'll look back and see the error of your ways. You'll see the life you were living and you'll be so glad to finally understand what it is to love and be loved.
Positive karma.

(If this interests you, or sickens you, and you need to read more wonderful rebuttals, go to:
http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/2008/12/17/reflections-on-violence/comment-page-1/#comment-4059

Thursday, December 18, 2008

QRSTVW is for Quite Right, Sorry TV Weatherman

And the U that was left out stands for Ugggghhhhhhh! How could I live in Seattle the winter that is happens to be THE COLDEST SINCE 1990! I didnt sign up for this! I signed up for fog and rain and Starbucks and the city. If I wanted this, I'd be home! Ok, ok, so I didn't leave home for better weather, it was actually some pesky (and I guess cute) girl. And boy does she owe me BIG TIME for this! Not only is it a storm here, too, now, but they are no good at maintaining it! I had to bundle up and walk to work today (pics coming soon...I know, I know, I always say that) and it was pretty cool to see no city traffic or people shoving their way by you. Everyone was in the same boat because everyone looked foolish, as did I. Bundled head to toe in hats and scarves and mittens and puffy coats with rain/snow boots to top it all off. And those who thought they had to look chic and tough it out for fashion's sake just felt foolish. They passed us with what at first looked like pity, but if you looked closer it was actually freezing envy.

Thank God there was a holiday gathering at the office yesterday. I came in to cookies and fruit and pot pie for lunch. Everyone is snowed in, I have no appts because I cant get anywhere and no one can get to me, and theres only 2 of us here today. (Hi JEnna, I know youre reading...how are the boys this time?! Speaking of our boys, NAsh was a MESS during the thunderstorm! Donia was up getting ready and after he ate and heard the 2 big booms, he was on the end of the bed, frozen, shaking like Ive never felt him shake. He wouldnt come to lay with me, wouldnt move at all, for fear that any sudden movement, even his own, would cause that terrible sound again, that was for sure going to get him. Cant wait for a child's reaction. When I asked Donia, "Oh my God, was that thunder!?" She answered, "Nah I think it was just a snow plow. By the second clap, she opened the door and whispered in, "Whao! That was THUNDER!" Such a smart, smart girl. Ok, bye.)

So remind me to tell you guys some time about the story I told my boss about how Nash hates thunder...

8 days until I leave for home, and let me tell you, I’m already there. I’ve been working hard to get all of my final assignments done at the office so that I can go have a relaxing 17 days off (and so my coworkers can have 17 relaxing days without my clients!), and now I’m at the point where it’s just a waiting game. This would be excruciating if I hadn’t just gone home a month ago, but still, the excitement is building every day. And it’s funny because Christmas actually happens before I leave, but I keep forgetting about it. Donia would be mad at me for saying that, and it’s not like we’re not gonna have a good Christmas together. It’s just that sometimes you’re used to Christmas feeling a certain way, and it’ll be the first time in 2 years I’ve seen my fam at the holidays. It’s just going to be great! Donia and I will have a wonderful dinner (prepared by her, mostly, with my help on simple things like stirring, and…um…stirring.) Then we have special gifts and STOCKINGS (her fav) to open up Christmas morning. I actually have to work the day after Christmas, but as I do she will do some last minute prep before we go home, and drop the dogs off at the kennel. Pray pray pray for no snow next week!

When we finally get home we have all sorts of fun things planned like Christmas parties with our families, my 10 year high school reunion, a trip to VT for a night, a birthday party for my sis, a rehearsal dinner, and of course a WEDDING!

Let me just tell you that I’m so excited for my little bro and his lovely bride-to-be. I love their relationship, I love the dynamic of those 2 together, and I love the fact that they’re getting married. I couldn’t be prouder of him as a person and as a man and as a future husband to Kristen. I’ve really only wanted what was best for him from day one. I guess we’ve never been the closest and most affectionate siblings. We went separate ways for a few years there when I was at school and he was working, but every time I see him we are back to where we left off, and I see more and more things we have in common. I guess it only comes with age to really appreciate your siblings. Or its that I live so far away and I see that I took for granted living so close to them before and not hanging out more. I’ve been at points where I’ve wanted to shake each and every one of my siblings about something or another that I thought they should be doing differently or selling themselves short on. I am certain they have felt the same with me. In the end, though, you can’t make someone do something, no matter what reasoning you use (just ask our parents!) As I age, I know I’ll just get closer to them. J

Wow, where did that come from? This snow really brings out the crazy in some people! Sorry to share too much so early. If anyone was uncomfortable with my pouring of emotions, just message me and I can say something rude, witty, or just plain mean to erase it and return to normalcy.

(JK I love my fam/emotions/weepiness)

Ok I gg navigate how I’m gonna get home. I’ve got a lotta hills to climb!!!!!!

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

C.R.E.A.M.


So there's this column in the Sunday paper here called "Rants and Raves". In this column, WA residents can write in and either "rant" about someone who did them or someone else wrong in a public setting, or they can "rave" about random acts of kindness displayed. I enjoy reading it every week to see the wide spectrum of do-gooders and assholes this world holds, and to remind myself to always do good and not be an asshole. Lately I've noticed, though, that the assholes are getting more and more careless and are devoid of all human compassion, while the good people we do have are being honored here for things that don't necessarily go "above and beyond". They are just things you should do as a human being! Case in point: one of this weeks "raves" was a guy who was giving a shoutout to all those nice folks who actually stopped and got out of their cars to help him when he'd BEEN HIT BY A CAR ON HIS BIKE! He said that these kind and gentle people saw him laying IN THE MIDDLE OF THE INTERSECTION and held his hand while calling 911. Seriously? Who would NOT stop when a man has been run down by a car??!! Ans it makes you wonder, did they only stop because he was in the way of their cars? I guess I'm just surprised that this is an extraordinary act these days. Then again, there's always the bystander effect, where people see an incident and figure everyone else will do something about it, so they don't really have to. I'm sure the "rave" for this guy was written to just thank those strangers who helped when he had no other way of doing it because they were anonymous. Let's hope that's the case and that stopping for the helpless and injured isn't something only those "exceptional" people would do...

Then we come to a death at the mall. There was a shooting among teens and a kid died. When talking to a friend about this, who had seen the actual newscast, she told me that in the same breath as the reporting of this tragic young death, they also reported "PLEASE NOTE: THE MALL WILL BE OPEN SUNDAY." Don't fret, oh ye of consumerism and greed. Get over it, get back out there and SHOP! They've mopped up the blood and removed the caution tape from in front of your fav store. Just a little shooting. Just a young death. With better outreach programs and schools, we may have been able to save him. But no worries, that's not your problem...just keep swipin that card...

Has this blog become angry and political?

I apologize.

I can't wait to come home this Christmas! the 26th through the 12th, in case you didn't know. I miss the people in RI that I thought were ignorant and rude and careless. They seem like warm fuzzy teddy bears now to me. No offense to Seattle. A city is a city, but there's nothing like a little New England town*...

*foreshadowing to where I will be living next...Check out Northampton, MA.

xo and juicy turkeys (in 2 days--have some Rhody turkey for me!)

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

President Obama


It's done!

Obama is our president!!!

Holy shit!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Of course it’s about the election


So, 1: VOTE!!

I feel like a kid and tomorrow is Christmas. Except it could go one of two ways: I either get every toy I ever wanted, or I find Santa's mangled, bloody pulp of a body under the tree...

Sunday, September 7, 2008

NFLove

Im up at 9:30. On a Sunday. Headed to a bar...

Before you start organizing an intervention, remember that we are three hours ahead of you (and smarter) here on the West Coast. Therefore, rolling out of bed at 12:30 and relocating to the couch to enjoy football all day is not an option. Waking up bright spanking early (on a WEEKEND) is my only option. And not having cable, waking up early and jumping in the car to head to the Wheelhouse is the new plan for Sundays.

It just feels wrong to drink this early. You know, it would be a little better if I never went to sleep last night and just partied through til today. But alas, I am old and withered and need my rest. How do I make this less awkward/inappropriate on the Lord's day? Start out with Mimosas.

BTW I am sitting here in a Seattle bar with the laptop out and connected to free wi-fi. I am clad in a Favre jersey and some yoga pants. I have been heckled three times now by the 10 people that have gotten up early to join in the football festivities because Favre is playing on the TV in front of me. But unlike me, he's wearing green and white.

I just wanted him to suck so that I could say, "Fuck it, we lost a shitty quarterback, good for us". THESE WORDS ARE NOT THE WORDS GOING THROUGH MY HEAD! And they are certainly not the words leaving my mouth. Instead, there are sighs and 'fuck' under my breath, and the longing to have things back the way they were. Im nostalgic and sad.

In case anyone is tired of hearing me bitch about my loss, GO SCREW! Tom Brady just left the Pats game with a questionable return, and I bet all of you are having panic attacks and whining like bitches. Looks like you need a box of tissues, and he, a box of band-aids. At least he'll be back...

Ok, Im gonna try to stop. Im gonna try to have a good season and stop thinking about my misery.

Other things Im gonna "try" to do this season
(that may be easier than getting over the loss of dear Favre):

Grow a penis
Qualify for the US Open next year
Shrink 7 inches
Make water into wine
Walk home to see my mom
Meet Michael Jackson. Black Michael Jackson
Swim the English Channel
Solve a rubik's cube
Set a new world record for "Darkest Tan" on a human being. Ever.

Wish me luck.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

It hurts a lot

Here is a list of things that could occur that would be less awkward/horrifying than seeing Favre in a Jets jersey on TV:

1. Walking in on my parents in bed together. My DIVORCED parents!

2. Walking out of the house accidentally without my clothes on.

3. Tripping and falling in front of a group of people and smashing my face and having to run home bleeding.

4. Watching an ex make out with my mom.

5. Saying the wrong name in bed.

6. Finding out I was adopted.

7. Talking shit about someone right in front of them, realizing it, and having to pretend it was a joke to save face and not get my ass kicked.

8. Realizing you just got your period on "Wear white to work" day.

9. Pooing yourself. Accidentally of course.

10. Finding out the love of your life has run off with your best friend and they are having a baby and have taken your dog and your belongings and your dignity with them.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

You think kids are a lot of work...

...try 2 wayward, gluttonous chihuahuas!

So its my turn (she does it every week, I do it once every 6 months) to take out the trash. Im trying my best, gettin it ready for the trek down to the dumpster on my way to work when, alas!, I am distracted by something insignificant.

Long story short: the garbage sits on the deck all day.

And because of my haste, I also left the door open.

I arrive home with Donia at 6:00 and see trash all over the deck! Since Mr. Gus has been locked up because of the previously mentioned obsessive pee situation, he cannot (surprisingly enough) be the culprit. Theres Nash, sitting bright eyed and bushy tailed by the trash hes ripped open and strewn about.

Heres where the mistakes continue...

In my blinding rage, I quickly pick up the dirty newspapers, let Gus out of his pen, and run to get the door shut and the trash picked up before any more damage can be done. Gus thinks its buffet night at The 1020 and begins to sniff around and lick the floor, rug, and ingest any trash he can. During this shitshow of 5 minutes, I decide to feed them so as to distract them from the chaos. This works, but I have now screwed myself even further.

Nash jumps up after hes done eating and I notice...Jesus he is fat! Like fat, like hugely bloated fat! Shit! I quickly start to spiral into a panic! Have I not only let him gorge himself on trash all day and then enabled him to be even more of a pig by pouring him a bowl of dog food...YES!
The worst part of this thing hasnt even happened yet...listen on...

As Donia surveyed the trash situation, she noticed what hed eaten: veggies, a turkey sandwich and, worst of all, chicken bones! Chicken bones splinter and cause problems like possibly internal bleeding, large vet bills, and/or death! I call Vet Dawn immediately, google the closest vet, and Donia and I discuss the next step. We are supposed to see a Mariners game tonight, 7:00, its 6:15, but Im so scared that if we leave him, he may get really sick and we wont know. We wont know until 11 pm when we return from the game and hes keeled over bleeding from the ass.

Now, she knows I dont wanna go to the game to begin with, so I dont even MENTION the prospect of not going. Im thinking it, but not saying it. She brings it up first and I beg beg beg her to know Id never use this excuse to get out of the game. Promise! I actually feel really bad at this point cuz she loves the games so much. She is FANTASTIC though and very understanding and deserves someone way less irresponsible than me. She knows this.

So we are now sitting and watching the game from the comforts of our living room on tv. We actually put the tix on craigslist for free and only one guy called, and then said nevermind! Shows you just how bad those Mariners are, I guess. Instead I got her some wine and a cozy blankie and have to wait on her hand and foot or the night for causing us to stay home (I chose to do these things, she did not demand it. She is enjoying it, though)

If there was a DCYF for dogs, Id be the poster-mom for bad pet owners.

Update: we took the dogs for a walk to, 1 get outside since were missing the game, and 2 to work a bowel movement out of Nash (hopefully one of many). It worked, and it doesnt look like its gonna be a fun night if Nash keeps doing what he did in the grass outside our apt...

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Gus's hangover

These two, surprisingly enough, have nothing to do with each other. They are just two things that need to be discussed, like my dreams the second I wake up, or politics, or what your "Safe Word" is gonna be. Read on:

Donia was having a homemade raspberry iced tea. She "joked" and asked me to put vodka in it. I, of course, oblige when someone requests booze. She is sipping away and forgets that she is drinking alcohol, mind you, when little Gussy comes crawling up and wants to sip mommy's drink. She allows this, as she has this thing with the dogs where she lets them LICK HER FOOD AND DRINKS with their dirty (or so Ive heard, clean) mouths. Popsicles, ice cream, beer...etc, etc.
So Gussy has a few sips, and wouldnt you know it...wow! Look at that! Gus has puked! At this time I am not aware of the sippy-sippy these two just played. I clean the vomit and we proceed with the day. When we return home hours later, there are vomit piles all over...3 or 4 to be exact. I start wondering what could be wrong with poor Gus, when it dawns on Donia, "Mother of the Year", that she let him sip her drink cuz, "they always sip the beer".
Number 1, to all 4 of you readers out there: we do not let the dogs drink. It's not something we practice. Nash has been sober way too long (3 years this November) to mess it up now, and Gus is only 14 in dog years. The legal drinking age in America, human or otherwise, is still 21. In bars, restaurants, and in our home.
Number 2: she is not a bad mother, and this is no sort of foreshadowing for the children we may have. They will not drink. Vodka. Rum, on the other hand, is less caloric and easier to mix with sodas that wont clog a baby bottle like juice will...
I am perturbed at her for this little snafu, yet I forgive her. The boys lick the condensation off our glasses all the time, and sometimes theres a drop of beer ingested here or there. No big deal, right? Wrong---vodka kills! And vodka makes chihuahuas throw up on your rug or bed or couch or anywhere comfy and cozy thats hard to clean. Trust me, I know.
So now we are stuck with a hungover dog on Saturday. He was mopy and tired and whining about wanting fried foods just like I do after a hangover. He is absolutely fine now, after chanting, "Im never drinking again" over and over.

Havent we all...

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

It's the end...and I feel fine.

Ok, I know that people hate to hear about other people's dreams. In my defense, other people's dreams are about like bunnies that talk and smoke and then turn into your mom. Random and boring. If I dont get this one down, and if at least one person doesn't read it, my head'll explode.

It was the end of the world. The government told us it was the end, we had like 10 days. It all played out like that scene in Titanic where the band is playing up on the deck and they just flash scenes of couples and families huddling together, waiting to die. Thats what we were all doing. We were all (every family everywhere) frantically rushing around to visit with each other before the end. We were wondering if it all would just stop, and go blank, and we'd be no more, or if we'd all drop dead, or die slowly. The worst part was that there was a scene in this dream where a man had a knife and said the animlas were dying slow painful deaths, so he had to kill them quickly. I handed him Nash and ran away. I wanted to remember him alive and not see anymore. As we came to the last days, there was no background noise. There were no screams. There was absolute silence. Everyone was eating with their families and preparing. I remember seeing my family, my cousins, baby cousins. People were getting fresh haircuts and their nails done and buying all sorts of stuff to eat for these big "last feasts" with each other.

Then I was talking to DJ and noticed that everyone was spending money. And we figured out that, supposedly, the last day of Earth would be April 15...tax day. So, everyone had all this extra money and were spending it all because, well, who cares at this point. Then we started to wonder, what if the president (it was Bush, I saw him) was lying about the end of the world? What if he did it to get people to spend money and put it all into the economy? We started to doubt that it would all end that day. We figured when it all kept going that he'd get on TV and say "I guess it will go on! Hooray!" and no one would be upset about spending all their money because of the sadness and impending doom they had faced. They would be thankful. His tricky little way of getting our money...
I woke up in a panic and dont know what happened.

****Real life****
I guess you could say I worry about the state of our country right now.

Monday, June 16, 2008

The King of (Soda) Pop

At one time he was a legend. He was on top of the World, no one even close to knocking him out of the spotlight. And now? Well, lets not get into now. For, whatever your opinion is on Michael Jackson, it doesnt matter right now. Right now we are discussing the legend, circa 1986 when he was the biggest thing on the planet. No, srsly, the BIGGEST. It went 1.God, 2.Michael Jackson, 3.Coca-Cola, 4.the rest of the world. Trust me, I was part of his adoring fans who thought he was the best thing to come along, since, well, me I guess (we all love ourselves at that age, right? It isnt til puberty that we loathe our existence).
This blog was prompted by my receiving all of the MJ CDs form the Seattle public library. I have put them all onto my iPod at this point and I couldnt be happier. Yes, I could sing them to myself from memory, but my voice is far too low to sound authentic. On our way back from a trip to the Hellish Everett Mall (dont ask), we put on the Thriller album. It got me thinking: when else has anyone ever made such a scary song? A song that sent chills, especially if you learned it when you were young. Donia still hates the Vincent Price laughter at the end. She actually asks me to turn it off! (I dont, of course, cuz its fun to watch her squirm). There is no other song like Thriller. Rap may try to scare you with threats of gang violence, but we aint scurrred. Marilyn Manson and his emo buddies may try to frighten you with makeup and fake blood and talks of worshipping the devil, but, come on now! Satan = not scary. That stuff is shit compared to Thriller! It's a cult classic-literally!-and will go on forever as one of the most successful songs of all time. As will MJ go down [insert pedophile joke here] as the most successful artist, behind Elvis? Maybe even ahead of him...
Listening to MJ brings me back to a time in childhood when my jobs in life were to:
1. Go to school and pretend I didnt like Michael Jackson (Christian/Crazy school)
2. Play Barbie's with Audrey on the weekends
3. Listen to NKOTB, et.al.
4. Eat Little Debbie snacks.
5. Not swear
6. Build forts in the woods, play manhunt, and be sure to check in when the streetlights went on.

those were the days...

This has inspired my Top 10 Favorite MJ Songs Of All Time, according to Leah:

10. Who Is It?
Despite lots of people hating the Dangerous album, I loved it. Off The Wall and Thriller were a bit before my time, but once I loved MJ, thats when Bad and Dangerous came out. Those were my favs by far! So this song is just cool cuz I love the background beat (which I like to think Michael beat-boxes himself) and the chorus is fun to sing along with.

9. They Dont Care About Us
This is from HIStory. Again, HIStory wasnt the highest acclaimed album, but I made sure I planned ahead, booked my mom and the car, and was off to the store to buy that tape the day it came out. I saved my money up. I waited months! It was the most excited Id been about an album release up to that time. I was so proud that I got a version (which was later edited)of the album that had the words "Kike Me" in this song. I didnt know what it meant, and when I did I didnt think it was very nice, but I had it and I felt special Id squeezed in my purchase before the recall by the FCC, or whoever it was that ordered the phrase to be banished. When I recently got the CD fromt he library and put it on the computer, I listened for the famous line, but it was a mess of 'kkshkshkkk' and gurgling sounds. Ill always know the truth, though...

8. Black or White
The special video, which they showed in between 2 sitcoms on prime time tv, was fantasic. Who didnt love Macauley and Michael being friends (until later, of course)? This song is happy and gleeful and promotes love for all. As do I. And then, remember the ending when Michael destroyed the car (for what reason? Anger? Michael? Couldnt be!)? All the viewers were offended and appalled at the violence. Fast forward 15 years, bet theyre wishing people would just smash cars on TV still. That was nothin.

7. Jam
People used to make fun of me (and may still) for loving Jam. So silly, Michael J and Michael J, one on one, it wasnt believable, and kinda corny. I agree. But the song---fantastic! So entertaining to me, forget the video! It aint too much to Jam...doodoodoodoo....it aint to much for me just JAM! Who the fuck knows what MJ was Jammin to. And who the fuck cares.

6. Say, Say, Say
I can see this video in my head, something about Michael and Paul McCartney and a carnival and a fire. I just loved the song though, and I had no idea Paul had been a Beatle when I first heard it. Just Michael's less famous singing friend. :) (I was young).

5. Scream
I was much older when this came out (14?) but not a bit less excited than I was the day I got my Michael Jackson T-shirt as a child. It was green....reallly green...and had an iron on of him in concert singing. I wore it all the time, til the iron on was wearing off. Scream had the best video, and me and my cousins (yep, only got three, and one wasnt born yet, so you figure out who they were) got the single, went into the back yard with our boombox and side ponytails, and learned the dance. We practiced for hours. I was 14, yes, but not having had sex yet, I was still dancing with my cousins. Some parts were too hard for us, we werent trained professionals like Michael and Janet, so we modified those moves and pressed on. Still, everytime I hear it I remember a few parts and wanna perform for the nearest crowd.

4. Man In The Mirror
Another good-hearted and touching [insert jokes...]song by MJ. Gonna make a change. We need to re-release this song to the world. However bad stuff was back then, its gotta be worse now. Or maybe we should just send a copy to George W. instead. I remember seeing the girls that would pass out at his concerts and be carried away looking like limp rag dolls. I remember this song moving people to rag doll status repeatedly.

3. Remember the Time
I think it was the dancing in this song that got me hooked. So much about Michael was his videos. Yeah, the songs were great, but then to see them as a story and dance routine made them that much better! This is still my favorite dance video of his, but one that was too hard for me to learn in the yard (so sad!).

2. Dirty Diana
Were coming up to the Top 2 songs that I love. They have lots in common, and one is that me and DJ loved them both the most. We had no idea why Diana was "Dirty" or what the song meant, but it was so hardcore for Michael and we latched right on to it! The video was great with his hair and button down white shirt blowing in the wind (machines). Learning what it was actually about later in life made it all the more edgy and cool.

1. Smooth Criminal
Hands down favorite MJ song ever. There was a period of my childhood when DJ and I would get to rent movies every weekend. For a while there, we came upon "Moonwalker", and from then on (could have been months, who knows) we'd keep renting Moonwalker and watching it over and over all weekend. We. Loved. It. And of course, if youve seen it, you know that this song has a huge part in the movie. A huge COOL part in the movie. Its a must-see if you love MJ, and still have a VCR...its only on VHS:( My only wish for the upcoming generation is that they know that Alien Ant Farm was not the original artist to record this song.
Another wish, that will never be granted, is that future generations know MJ for what he was, not what he is now.

There are rumors that the sugar-daddy who helped Michael save the Neverland Ranch may make him pay it back in concert performances. In Vegas. Like Celine or Cher.
I.Am.There.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Is it bliss, or just the muffins?

Donia makes fantastic muffins. I thoroughly enjoy trying to get her to put all different ingredients into muffins now. I dont eat all of them, but theyre sure fun to create...

Muffins have nothing to do with my post, really. Donia and I have been together for 365 days today. You must be thinking, "Well, that's a year today!" but I say, "No, it's a leap year". So, tomorrow is the actual date we got together, technically 366 days ago. I guess I'm just posting this cuz I'm happy and proud of us and inherently grateful to her for being the person she is. Such a well-rounded, kind, caring, and PATIENT individual with the same ideals about life and it's importance and meaning as I do. Plus, we get along smashingly! Ive never had so much fun with someone as I do with her. We have a lot of respect and admiration for each other, which has never waivered, no matter what we've gone through. It's been a trying year, and I'm sure there are more hard times ahead. I'd just like to say that she's wonderful and I'm very happy we've had this last year together. Here's to many more...

I know not everyone in my life agrees with our relationship, but it is real and we are doing very well. On my own personal level, I just don't understand how you can love someone so much and it be wrong. This is not to spark a debate over my blog. It is simply to say that I'm very happy, and though some don't think I should be happy by way of this relationship, I just want it to be accepted for what it is. I'm not out to change the world, or anyone's individual beliefs. Our relationship is not invisible or less than anyone else's. We are not a waste of two human beings. How is it that two good people can be together but be doomed? I don't understand it, or have all the answers myself. Just know we love each other and respect each other like any other couple. It is all you could ask for in life...

Friday, June 6, 2008

It was no George Clooney ER...





It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing and the sky was a frightening shade of grey...

No, seriously, this is Seattle, it really was!

So last night Donia and I were just chillin at the crib, havin a raspberry iced tea, watching a little local news. I, as usual, was trolling the internet and Donia, as usual, was in the kitchen. She was putting some dishes away and, being the small fry that she is, reaching on her tippy toes to get stuff on the top shelves. I heard a crash and a grunt and giggled as I asked, "Are you ok?" She answered with, "Yeah, Im fine. If I was hurt you wouldn't hear anything, I'm usually quiet at first if I'm hurt." "Not me", I said, "Id be screamin!"

Fast forward 10 MINUTES. I hear another crash and immediately a scream. I throw the computer on the table as she's saying "Oh God, baby, I hurt myself. Oh no, I cut myself!" I knew she was serious this time and not just playing off of our convo from earlier. I jump up and run to the scene of the accident: I see the vegetable slicer, with its large blade, on the floor, and her keeled over holding her hand, blood on the paper towel she'd grabbed. Fuck. Im frantically like, "Are you ok, are you ok!? Oh God look at it, are you ok?" She gets upset for a sec and says," I don't know, ok..." and as she looks down she panics and says "Oh God, I need stitches". She insists I look at the wound, too, but I'm already shaking and afraid of seeing the blood, never mind a gaping cut. Now, we are set into action and I immediately go into panic mode (I suck at this stuff!)

I run around like a crazy girl in search for shoes, purses, a towel for the wound, and her wallet. She is just silent and calm, holding her hand tight. We run out the door and luckily, thank God, we live directly across the street from the hospital. We run up and down blocks following signs for the ER. We walk in and, well, they take their sweet ass time even asking us why were there. I'm so out of breath, and the girl doesn't even bat an eye! I tell them, "She cut herself" and she says"...ok. Has she been here before?" Not, "how badly" or "let us see", just "Do you have her insurance card?" There was just no sense of urgency in this girls bones! I was wondering if Id walked in with half my face hanging off if she'd have made me dig through my wallet for identification and confirmed my address before even taking me in! Needless to say, she sucked. No one saw the wound, and we are told to go sit down. Its 10 minutes before anyone even stirs, and so I say, "Show them you're bleeding through the tissue, tell them its not a minor cut!" As she stumbles over to the counter, again, being ignored, a woman calls out her name. This woman must have been the triage nurse. She gets Donia's info, does her vitals, but can barely help her control the bleeding cuz she has no idea where the supplies are! She has us sit down 5 more minutes before she brings us to the suture room. Or, as I like to think of it, the worst room you can possibly be in. Stitches make my skin crawl, they make me itch just thinking about them. I hate looking at pictures of people with stitches. Like nails on a chalkboard for me. We are in the suture room 20 more minutes before this really cool kid came and did some survey for the hospital, asking about emergency contacts, religious preference (yikes! in case of death??), and demographic info. Finally, after another 25 minutes or so, the "Physicians Assistant" named Tom comes in to sew her up. He's dry and corny, but funny. Typical hospital worker trying to put a patient at ease. He looked like Dr Drew, which was fun for me. He threw the packaging of the supplies he used all over the counter, like a mad scientist. He even had some playful banter with a nurses aid named "Jojo" to keep us entertained. All in all, I sat at the other side if the bed and held Donia's hand while he gave her shots, cleaned blood, and stitched away. My head was turned to the wall, and yes, Tom, this is how I would like to stay.

She was very brave and I'm impressed by her. I would have been a stupid mess over nothing, but she keeps things in perspective so well. When asked on a scale of 1-10 how bad her pain was, she said 5. Later she told me, "Well, I couldn't say 10. 10 is like having a baby. Nina was a 10. I cant say I'm that bad". Ha! I would have answered 11 if it was me. Such a tough little champ, if she enjoyed sweets and girly toys Id have taken her out for ice cream and bought her a Barbie doll for her bravery. Thats what always got me through...
So now shes loopy and hurting and I have to take care of her. And by that I mean change her dressing, wrap it before her shower, and do all the dishes for the week, the latter being the most devastating one. I love her, but I don't love dishes. Oh, listen to me, going on and on about how I'm suffering through this injury...

*Wait, its my blog. I can do what I want. Ok, back to me...*

So, I insist on waiting on her hand and foot, and it's not even really that bad of an injury (so she says). I guess its just what you do for someone when you love them. *And when you anticipate you may need some waiting on someday and you wanna be able to pull the "remember-that-stitches-time" card...*

So, in case you were wondering, the exact story of how this happened was that she was going to make coffee and as she reached for a filter, the veggie slicer she'd put haphazardly on the top shelf came crashing down. She instinctively went to catch it, or at least stop it from falling, and it came straight down, Guillotine style on her finger. Sliced right into her. Had it been any sharper she may have lost some of her finger, I'm guessing. Also, had it not been made in 1954, and had we not just bought it 6 days ago, this crisis may have been averted. Oh well, live and learn. Lesson 1: Leah puts dishes away on the top shelves. Lesson 2: Maybe items that contain open and sharp blades/daggers should be put on lower shelves.

Quote of the night: Right before going to sleep, Donia utters, "I hate my mortal body". (As opposed to her IMmortal body? Yeah, interpret that as you will, it was way too New Testament/Sci-Fi Channel for me at that late hour.)

Were just thankful it didn't fall on her face or head, and that her battle scar will be mini.

oh, and it got us a three day weekend...

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

No I dont want a free fucking credit card, I just want my dignity back!!!!!!

As someone who's worked in the business...of selling, that is...I know the ins and outs of "special offers" that actually can screw you instead of aide. "Good deals" are not always good. "Free" is never free. But alas, we are told by our managers to "upsell". If you suggest something to someone, they are more likely to buy it. Yes, I have seen this executed and actually work, but I was not a good salesperson. I knew the person didnt want to hear my overly rehearsed spiel about how great the Margaritas were (but not the cheap ones, the over-priced ones.) The bigger salad is better (but not better for you). A Gift Card would make a great gift! Blah blah blah, I couldnt stand there with a straight face while the guests were just wishing Id go away and leave them to their steaks. I sucked.

Fast forward to yesterday when I realized just how bad consumerism has gotten. Businesses want your money, bottom line. They dont care about you, they certainly dont care about your finances or bills. They are hoping you are dumb enough to have credit and use it frivolously. If you dont...well, theyre the first ones to offer you a special card that will help you pay for the things you dont really need. Case in point: Donia and I visited the mall yesterday. We had an errand to run there, one single transaction that would have taken 5 minutes. Neither of us could stand the thought of sitting in 40 minutes of traffic just to reach our destination, walk in, and walk out minutes later. We decided to walk around the Northgate Mall a bit and browse for summer clothes. We passed many stores before we came upon the first one that caught our eye-Victoria's Secret. Now, I know this sounds R-rated, but really, all Donia does is rave about their bras. She uses the word "quality" a lot when referring to them, so I know she means business. She wants things to last until the end of time. She wants the world to be coming to an end and still be able to use the toaster she bought 80 years prior and turn on the TV thats older than dirt. She believes in forever...with allll things. Im not much of a Victoria's Secret girl, Im fine with whatever I find wherever. All my girl friends have tried to make me feel bad or incompetent because of this. How could you not buy all of your undergarments from VS!!?? Its a sin! I always thought, 'How is it that this Victoria has monopolized everyone's boobs'? How did this happen that she owns everyones privates and only losers dont go there to outfit their naked bodies? Whoever she is, shes smart I tell ya, cuz every girl past the age of 13 has it ingrained in their heads that their breasts and asses will suffer terrible deformities, rashes and look awfully disfigured if they are not fitted into a super-expensive garment from VS. Why is this? Cuz their moms think the same twisted thing...
We enter VS and Donia immediately takes me to the supportive, quality bras. Black. White. Tan. This is what supportive looks like. Ok, fine, I think. My bras are old and I could use a new one or two. She immediately finds the sale (thats my girl!) that was posted on a sign out front. Jesus, depending on how big your girls are, you could pay up to 70 bucks for one of these suckers! She finds the 2 for $40 rack (no pun intended) and tells me "These are good". Ok, oh sacred guru of bras, lets get crackin. I find my size (which I will not disclose, thank you very much) and we head to the dressing room. Now comes the scariest part of all...the...salesgirl! The evil evil salesgirl thats so bubbly and happy to be alive in this glittery pink store that she almost explodes! She asks us if we found everyhting, if we had trouble, if we need help, if we are satisfied, if we wanna try them on, if we like them, and if theres anything else she can do just BUZZ her from the room and she'll fetch other sizes! She should have asked if well needed therapy after this session cuz I know I will. I now have PTSD from the horrific experience.
Jesus, I just entered high class shit here. I thought only Oprah was treated like this but no, the little people get it too. Only at VS, of course.
We answer "yes" to the trying on question, and she attempts to open ONE dressing room door. Does she thinks were friends that cant possibly want to not model our bras for each other, to want to critique each and every inch of them, to only know if we should buy them through the advice of the other? We werent holding hands or anything, so she wouldnt know we were together. Who knows what it was she was thinking, but I had to intervene. "Um, excuse me, ma'am. Hi, um, you see, as much as we love each other and have no secrets between us, etc.etc., we are indeed like all other women and would like to try our bras on ALONE. In different dressing rooms. Yeah, thanks, youre great. Oh, nope, thanks, Im fine, I can apply a bra to myself without hurting myself or screwing it up. Yep, Im good like that. What? Buzz? Yeah, sure, Ill buzz you..." Youre goddamn right I didnt buzz her! Fuck that, I can find new sizes. I dont need to stand there topless while she flits about the store looking for the perfect bra for me. Its just not right. Im a big girl and I can put my shirt on and leave the room and find the bra and return to the room and try it on and you know what? Ill not even think twice about those precious moments I made my feet take 50 steps to do it. Ill live the life of the less priveledged if this is what it entails.
Through my door I hear Donia emerge from her room and she's bombarded. "Howd they feel/look/snap/hold? Do you like/love/want/need to have it? Can I get you matching panties/underwear/thongs/robes/perfume/leggings? No? So just the bra? And it fit? Wow". I come out seconds later and before I can be swarmed by the Fairy Bra-girl, I grab Donia and we have a private pow-wow (which Im sure someone had to be taping and playing back somewhere at a faraway VS headquarters). I ask her if it was weird here and here and did it stick out a bit here and yes oh good cuz it did on me...and then here she comes. Salesgirl. Evil in the form of a tanned Prom-Queen wannabe.
Sometimes in life we make mistakes. Some are small; others, well, they can be quite devastating, leaving our life and everything we knew and loved in shambles. My mistake: telling her of my bra concerns. She immediatley looks at me like I just lost a loved one. Such despair and disappointment, such deep sympathy for what Im going through. She offers to get me a new size. New size, mind you, this is what she says. Well, shes a fucking lying fairy salesgirl with the remorse of serial killer and the heart of Satan. I put all of my trust in this girl and what does she do? She reaches into my chest and pulls my heart right thru it...past the boobs she claims to live to help! She stomps it on the floor and then spits on it, all the while glittering and smelling so lovely of the VS scent of the month. This sales girl tricked me, and I will never forgive her, as long as I live. As long as my boobs stay North and can be tamed by a normal everyday store-bought bra, I will hold this grudge. Her indiscretion: she came back with not the bra that I wanted, but a different bra that she thought would suit me better! As if she knows me! As if she knows my struggles in life! As if she took on my soul at that moment and knew what was best for my chest! Pssshhh. You dont know me or my body parts, little girl. You bring me back a hot pink soft fluffy piece of crap like this!? Shove it up your VS-clad ass!

I pretend to try the bras on, but I now know 3 things: 1. I dont like them and theyre different than the others, 2. She claimed they were "better" cuz they werent on sale like my others, and 3. shes a cheating whore.

I emerge from the room when I hear her go fetch a bra for another girl. I am worn and tired, and I figure this is my only chance to get away unscathed. I peek around the corner, all super-hero spy sleuth-style, and I make a break for the original display of 2 for $40 bras. I can just get my size back and go. 1..2..3...RUN!!!! I am almost there when, fuck! There she is! And she has my original bras in hand! I have the fleeting thought of knocking her out cold with the torso of an underwear manequin and making my way to the register quickly, but I decide against it. Too risky. Ive gotta keep my head about me now. I cant let her win. Where is my sidekick!!!??? Oh God, Donia is gone, Im on my own, Im hungry and scared and praying I make it to tomorrow.
She turns swiftly and sees me out of my designated changing station. "How. were. they?" I hear it as if the world were in slow motion. I try to think fast, Im afraid of her, of what Ill say and how shell reprimand me and send me back to the dressing unit and make me strip and wear the pink bra and scream at me that I do want it and that Im a pussy and that no one'll ever want me if I dont wear it and like it! I answer skittishly, "Um, well, I, um, I guess theyre ok but I, uhhh, I like the first ones I had after all." She stares into my soul, full of disappointment. She wants to slap me and throw the bras at my face, but I can tell shes decided to be more professioanl than that. She sighs and says, "well, ok", and gently flops the bras into my hand. Shes defeated. But really, so am I...

I take them and know my life has been spared this day. I look feverishly around all the different VS rooms for Donia, when I finally see her staring blankly from a designer chair, her pink bag in hand. She is weathered, but not worn. She's made it farther than I have, and I envy her at this moment. She gets up and approaches me, seeing the worry and fright on my face. I tell her "Move, move, dont look back. Just keep walking". I get to the register and have to stand there for 7 minutes waiting. Why is this? Well, first off, all the sales girls are out fetching bras for topless and helpless customers, so only one cashier is available. Secondly, do you know how else they attempt to pamper you? Well, they start by killing 1000s of trees and dying the paper they get from them pink. They then wrap each and every indiviaual undergarment you buy in this paper. As if putting them in a bag touching each other will ruin their reputations, or soil their beauty. Of course, just because this is the shopping day from Hell, the girl in front of me must have gotten a gift card, cuz she bought more undergarments than a person could wear in a lifetime. Do I wanna have kids and fund their college educations? Nah, Im gonna spend that fortune on lingerie. Dumb, dumb girl. While Im sandwiched in between two crystal cases of gloss and perfume and oil and lotion and polish and rouge, I see the salesgirl I offended with my denial of her bra suggestions. She flashes me an evil grin, as if to say, "You think youve won, but I always win, bitch" As if she has the ability to curse my boobs and any other bra that ever touches them. And you know what, Im convinced she just may...

I finally get called over by the girl whose only dream in life is to cash me out and then pose for the VS catalog herself. Thats it. She'll do this and die happy. She is nice as I put my bras up there on the counter, but then, something changes. Like a chameleon she goes from fake tanned to EVEN DARKER fake tanned, and evil. She asks me how Im gonna pay. Ruh-roh, I smell trouble! She asks if Ill be using my VS credit card. As I start to say No....she cuts me off and asks if Id like to. No? Oh, silly her, is it cuz I dont have one? Yes, well, if you sign up you get coupons and discounts and free puppies and happiness and cruises to the Bahamas and everlasting true love and emails telling you about upcoming sales. All the while Im trying to interrupt her and say No Thank You, like a polite consumer, more than I ever got from people, but shes relentless. She doesnt shut up until shes told me everything this little wonder-card can do. I am finally able to squeeze in a 'no thanks' but it means nothing as I hear it leaving my mouth. She knows Im not confident. She knows I have no spine, no support behind my decision. She thinks she can crack me, and she almost can, but just then something rises up inside me and I grab her by her blond weave and pull her fake-lashed eyes close to mine and say "Put the fucking bras in the pretty pink bag, bitch. No! Dont wrap them! Throw them carelessly in! Theyre not newborns, theyre bras! Ok now, let me swipe my plain old BANK CARD and let me on my way!" She is visibly shaken, and I am visibly pleased.
On our way out the lovely sales manager is standing near the exit and flashes us a huge VS smile and says "Have a good day!" These empty words fall upon our ears and we smile back. "You too" we reply, all the while knowing we have single handedly escaped the store with half priced bras, and the blood of once shiny happy sales girls on our hands...



Bloody Mess

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Regrets last a lifetime

Its a lazy Sunday and I am definitely following what the Lord himself would want me to do...being lazy. Reading the paper, sipping coffee, and looking at the world's worst tattoos. Just for fun and games, take a look at these links and say to yourself over and over, "Ill never get tattooed after a night of drinking..."
*serious warning: There are many graphic tattoos. Watch out around the kids. And my mom...*
**note: some are repeats, but keep scrolling, youll see new ones**

www.grupthink.com/topic/index.php5?id=2517&page=1
http://listverse.com/bizarre/top-20-worst-tattoos/
www.theginblog.com/2007/12/15-of-the-absolute-worst-tattoos-ever/
http://next-thing.net/?p=2656
www.litwc.com/2006/10/20/i-love-tattoos-but/

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Pantsless and sad

Here's the question of the day: What would any self-respecting girl do to pamper herself for a hard week at the office while her girlfriend is out at Happy Hour with her friends? You guessed it---come home and walk around pantsless. Pantsless with a cozy couch, blanket, and a movie. Not just any movie, but a classic and #2 on my list of favs. Titanic. Ah, the nostalgic feelings it brings back of just graduating high school, casually dating Steve Magnanti, and experiencing the greatest love story of all time. *Not me and Steve...Rose and Jack* I hear the Titanic theme (not by Celine...I like the instrumental) and I get all flustered. Ive seen it at least ten times in the last 10 years. Kind of a lot for someone who doesnt really like watching movies over and over. But Leo. Uh, my unhealthy obsession with Leo lives on. Anyway, I got through almost the whole movie without crying, maybe just a couple tears here and there (or, say, every half hour). Then Donia arrives home with 10 minutes to go. Jack is dying (oh come on! If I just ruined the movie for you, too bad! Youve had 10 years to see it!), Rose is never letting go, and Im enjoying every moment as if it were the first time Ive experienced the grief that is Titanic. There is no sweet exchange between us of "how are you/ How was your day". Its simply:

Donia: "Hi!"

Leah: *hand in Donias face, eyes fixed on TV* "Not now, Im invested"

Of course, wouldntcha know, I keep the tears at bay almost the whole movie, and then bam! She returns home and the ending hits me like a ton of bricks! Rose going home to the Lord and her sweet Jack and her fellow Titanic victims, passing away so softly in her sleep. Im now almost sobbing. Donia tries to speak to me and I embarassingly choke on my words. So much for the tough girl facade...



That was yesterday, as was the repeat of Oprah's show on Puppy Mills (which I didnt see at its original airing). This added more tears to the night when at the very end of the hour (we were strong throughout), we both couldnt hold back the tears when they showed the man who had to choose which dog got executed daily. 40 A DAY he had to kill! And this is just one shelter, in one town, in one state! There are so many dogs who need homes that we kill 4 million animals a year that have nowhere to go! Yet, everyone who wants puppies goes to pet shops, and they partake in buying from puppy mills that abuse, neglect, and downright torture animals to make money! 10,000 puppy mills with hundreds of dogs being mistreated. It doesnt add up. Forget the idea of a cute little puppy, you can find them in shelters if you really look around and really must have one. DONT GO TO PET SHOPS! I felt at that moment that I wanted a house and a yard just to take in dogs. Of course, when I wake up today I know that I am not an animal lover, and though I would never want to see animals hurt, I would never be the person to take in the animals either. If I have to be honest here, its just not my calling. Some people have it and others dont. I love my dogs, but my passion isnt dogs. So, anyone who does feel it really should be rewarded for the work they do. It sucks that sometimes know what your calling IS NOT before you know what your calling is...thats where Im at.



That rounded out last night, and then we come to today for happiness and sunshine...brought on by the idea that SEX AND THE CITY premieres today! I had this fantastic idea that Id walk downtown and buy tickets EARLY for the show, just IN CASE it sold out. Yeah, haha...joke's on me. As of Thursday night, yes, an entire 24 hours before it opened, all of Seattle had bought tickets in advance and every show from 5 pm to 11 pm was sold out! So now i have to wait until tonight...LATE tonight...to see it! I could have seen it late Thursday (technically Friday) at midnight, but alas, my rockstar days are over. I was in bed by 10...

Gus just vomited next to me. As I type, he threw up inches from my leg. Well, yes I just stood him up and shook him and pretended he was dancing in a club, and yes I spun him around while Donia played a tune on the guitar, but gosh! How was I to know he had a belly ache! Bad mommy=abuse case in the making.

This blog is, so far, boring and empty. Better luck next month I guess...

I dont even wanna unveil it yet.

Im having a dry writing spell

Although Im always pretty lame in my opinion. Lame is the new "cool".

Lovely June, hours from us. Kinda. Summer is here:)

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

A new place to call home

So I have started this new blog here on bloggers.com. It just seems more official to me, and now people without Myspace can read along two (Ive had to inquiries, but that was enought to warrant a brand new site). My dilemma is this: do I copy and paste all my old blogs from Myspace into the archives here (as I originally wanted to), or do I start anew with this blog and leave the old stuff to my Myspace life? I feel that if I leave them behind they will be forgotten. Those are some times I like to look back on (some are alcohol induced ramblings, others depict traumatic events ("the injury")). Right now Im leaning toward dragging all my baggage over here, just as I dragged it to Seattle, and all over the State of RI. You cant just forget things or let them go. You can grow from them, but you can never erase the tiny hash marks they leave on your life.

Welcome to the new grown up blog. And by grown up I dont mean Ill be writing intelligent posts. Theyll still be useless and boring and have as much impact as a feather off a building. Theyll pass the time, though, and for some, thats all you can ask for...

Oh yes, and P.S.
Please excuse the HUGE ASS FUCKING PICTURES located at the bottom of my blog. I thought theyd be tastefully done and moderately sized. I was wrong. Blogger.com is obnoxious. Ill prob take them down soon.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Ill have a grande ass and muffins to go...

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Today's ramblings will include depressing topics, happy topics, controversial topics, and most importantly BITCHES IN STARBUCKS!

Why is it that you feel the entitlement to go into Starbucks, buy your coffee and super-fattening muffin, and then plop your deliriously smug ass at a table that SEATS 6 when you are only a party of 1? Where in your brain does it say, "This is a good idea". I go in with a party of 3, meanwhile, and we are forced to practically sit on top of each other around a table the size of a half dollar. Well, you know me, always out to make someone feel bad about themselves---I make it a point to loudly say to my friend, "Come here, you can probably squeeze in at this little table with us". I was sure the woman was within earshot. Low and behold, who gets up 2 minutes later, packing her magazine and blackberry and the rest of her crap into her tote? Thats right, lady-who-needs-five-extra-seats-to-be-comfy. Now, I know what youre thinking, maybe it was the last table? Well, it wasnt, but even if it HAD BEEN, my God, sit at the end, out of the way, sending off a signal saying, "Im just tucked in this corner cuz its the last table. Join me at the table if you would like. I dont bite and I realize this whole table isnt for me. That would be SILLY!" Or, do what she did and take up the whole goddamn thing, leaving 3 grown women to cram themselves where they shouldnt have to cram, and giving them no choice but to try and publicly embarass you.

I was peeing today (oh come on now, I have to!), and I look down and whats this? Theres nothing more depressing than seeing a notch you had to make in your belt cuz it was just too big when you got it, and realizing youd no longer be able to use that notch if you tried...

Had another dream me, DJ, Olivia and my mom were kidnapped. Another one!

So I was thinking that Id start a campaign..."Friends Dont Let Friends Continue To Live In RI". Seeing as Im living here for now, Id like to convince all my close friends to move out here to BEAUTIFUL SEATTLE! Where theres music, coffee, and happy hour! Sure its illegal to text while you drive, but texting kills anyway! I figure if I ask everyone, my return rate should be at least 3%. So 3 out of 100 people will move here. I have less than half that many people to ask. So at that rate, in 5 years, maybe one of you will at least visit...

Wait, hold it right there...I am getting visitors! Bailey and Meghan will be out in August, as well as Diehl, and possibly a visit from Jess! Guess the Lord heard my prayers after all...

A big debate going on around here lately has to do with cappucchino and pasties. No, I didnt say pastRies, I said p-a-s-t-i-e-s. As in, what strippers call "shirts". Yeah, so theres these coffee shops (really tiny, only drive-thrus actually) called (cleverly enough) Hot Chick-a-latte, and Cowgirls Coffee, among others. They hire hot girls to wear bikinis or, even sometimes, pasties, and serve coffee to people. *Im guessing men on their morning commutes.* Anyway, some woman was up in arms on the news saying its bad for children, blah blah blah. She is scheduling a protest...and a clothing drive! In a very diplomatic and mature manner, the scantily-clad bathing beauty stated on the news, "Sure, they can send all the clothing they want over here. Were going to donate it to our local charity..." HA! Bikinis-1, insecure soccer mom-0. My feeling? Yes, its not the best for kids. SO DONT TAKE YOUR KIDS THERE! If you are unaware of which establishments practice this and you need a caffeine fix while the tots are in the car, dont pull around and call the girl a "heathen" (true story). Simply ask your questions, grab your coffee, go home, and explain to the kids that adults do things that children cant do yet. My God, free speech, free expression. If the business owner thinks this will make money and the girls willingly participate, then mind your own beeswax and take your business elsewhere. I have a feeling this woman isnt concerned for the "poor innocent children". Your "poor innocnet children" can pull up porn on your computer anyday. Shes upset because when she doesnt know, her husband and his buddies are drinking more coffee than any human should and flirting with the nice baristas on work time. Insecurity's a bitch, bitch. You dont like it, get to the gym. Those girls did, and they earned what they have. Or you could just put out more and then maybe your husband wouldnt be so hopped up on the idea of a half naked girl burning her you-know-what on steaming espresso.

Ok, I have to get Donia from work and as it is, oopsie, Im late! Talk amongst yourselves, and Id love to know your views on the coffee shop thing. What if it were coming to a Dunkin Donuts near you?!

Thursday, May 15, 2008

I guess I should be packin all the time...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

No, not a gat. My camera! I just went 10 miles East to a treatment agency outside of Seattle and OH MY GOD its beautiful outside today! Its almost 80, sunny, just breezy enought to be comfy, and I am in the best mood of May 08. I have no one to share this with because Donia is still at work! I wanna just run out into the street and find someone who doesnt look too sketchy and ask them if theyd like to take a drive to the park. I just saw the most beautiful green trees and mountain ranges off in the distance. I dont even know what range it is-could be Mt. Shithead for all I care-it was gorgeous! Everyone bragged about "summer in Seattle", which I know isnt here yet, but if this is a preview, then Im HOOKED! They said it was "muggy". Muggy? Oh, you poor poor Seattlites. Come with me, Ill show you muggy. Ill show you I-have-never-missed-winter-so-much-i-just-may-commit-suicide-today hot back in RI. Fuck muggy, this is perfection...
So, as I again love Gus because pee-pee pad 2 seems to be working, I put his food in his bowl and went to change in my room. I come back to find him out on the deck, nibbling at three bites of food he carried out there. Apparently his plan was to grab a few and run back and forth with them becasue his poor lil chihuahua self couldnt decide what he wanted more--FOOD OR SUN! Chihuahuas are sun-gods, they live for it. I had to laugh at how cute his puppy conundrum was (after the giggle, mommy moved his food bowl outside for him). Though we have a laptop, we dont have wireless internet, so I am sitting inside doing this, as opposed to out on the deck on my old skool lawn chair. You know the one---I got it from KMart a week ago and its the kind you can lay down in, or sit up, or have your feet up. Its like a craftmatic adjustible bed for the yard. Yep, 12 bucks and Im golden. Donia refused saying the chair was "weird". f weird, its perfect! Yeah you may stick to the strange plastic weave its made of, but i can get myself in 30 different positions to reach maximumu sun capacity. With my SPF 60, of course.

Ok, gotta get out there with the dogs. For once Gus, that little fucker, has the right idea...

Saturday, May 10, 2008

only for the L Word fans...

Saturday, May 10, 2008

So like, Jen and Deanna? This is funny shit, and Jen, this interviewer reminds me of you at the end. Its her humor. And her use of the word V-hole. No one else will get this if you dont know the show, so you may as well go back to what you were doing...and oops i posted it twice, but its the same vid. its my first time with vids, sorry...














Sunday, May 4, 2008

The problem with memories and feminism...

Sunday, May 04, 2008

I have encountered a problem today and I dont know how to fix it. Donia has decided (as Jen G. did a looong time ago) to list the movies that I havent seen, that I apparently should have seen, as a child/teen in the 80's/early 90's. Nice gesture, yes, but herein lies my struggle: she doesnt realize (as I didnt, before this little experiment began) that the reason these movies are so "good" is because when she saw them 15-20 years ago, they were age and generation appropriate! Now, I dont know, I sit here and suffer through Goonies this morning, her with a big reminiscent grin on her face, me wondering what the hell Im watching! When she saw this at the age of 12, it was a fantastic kid adventure movie. Now, never having seen it at the age of almost...well, nevermind my age...all it is is a kiddie adventure movie! I dont have those feelings flooding back to me from when I first saw it as kid, having a crush on the main character, watching in wonderment as the story unfolded. I hear cheesy jokes and see bad fashion and cant help but think, "this would NEVER happen" at every turn of events! I do these things to make her happy, but now having seen 16 candles (couldnt stay with it), The Breakfast Club, Goonies, Dirty Dancing (ok), The Outsiders (not toooo bad), Stand By Me (maybe the best one), Lost Boys (come on youve got to be kidding me!), and Point Break (worst acting Ive ever seen!), I am done. No more, please! Indiana Jones bored me a month ago when we attempted to watch the trilogy (didnt even finish one) and now she has rented the Back to the Future trilogy! I know what youre saying, "but these are classics!" Yeah, classics, unless you missed the WINDOW in which they become classics in your head. I call it the "80's cheesy movie window" (80's-cmw for, well, kinda short). There is just no way Ill ever find most of these movies endearing at this point in life. I missed it. Remember seeing "Cant Hardly Wait" or "Clueless"? These to me are great cuz I was in high school and its about high school and you were in a time when it made sense for your adolescent brain. If I played those movies now for my mom, she'd think they were silly. She cant feel what I felt! So it is with Donia and her great movie viewing idea...little does she know, Im aborting the mission...
Ive got her library password, Ill cancel all the holds she has on the movies, and ill tell her they were reported lost or stolen. Yep, ALLLL the copies they had. Sorry...(but not really). Sometimes Ive gotta protect my sanity over making her happy by sitting thru another coming-of-age tale circa 1984.

And now my second problem. The other day Im next to this motor cycle rider. These three guys cross the street in front of us, and I see them checking this person out. I then realize that this is a woman. They are hooting and hollering at her, thinking she's so hot for riding a bike. So I start to wonder: where do we draw the line between wanting to be able to "do what the boys do" without a spectacle and still wanting to be noticed for being strong women stepping outside the gender-assigned box? (hold your jokes). I would like to say "Come on! Arent we at a place where it can be deemed normal for a girl to ride a motorcycle?" But then again, if everything is equal, if we do everything the boys do, then we are not holding on to our femininity either. If I can walk into a poker room and sit down at a table and no one notice Im a girl among 90% guys, then I lose that advantage, that attraction that I gain, which puts them at a disadvantage (some of the time. the dumb ones. and most are). So the feminist in me wants to preach "Hey! I can play poker and pool and ride a bike and pick up my own furniture to move it and dont need a guy to point out that these things are so manly!". Then again, the girl in me wants to say "Its still cool for some things to be noticed when a girl does them, but not all things! You dont have to point out you were just beat by a girl on the pool table or that a girl just got promoted over you." Having high-paying jobs or prestigious positions or being president or living on her own or being able to take care of herself are not out-of-the-ordinary, or at least they shouldnt be for women. Its hard for me to decipher whether we want to be women forever, or equals. Keep our femininity or give up most of the gender roles in exchange for the same rights men get all the time. We dont want to be men, and we dont wanna be "women performing roles of men" . I guess wejust wanna be cute and capable and strong humna beings running cirlces around the opposite sex in heels and a mini skirt...ok, thats what I want. I dont know what others want. Discuss amongst yourselves (but not in the presence of men, they get so cranky sometimes! Must be that time of...well...their whole lives?)

Questions, comments, or concerns may be sent to my Myspace Inbox. Rants and Raves on how I like to burn my bra and need to get a grip on reality, please send them to your own inbox, and promptly erase them.

Saturday, May 3, 2008

My spirit is bruised, but not broken...

Saturday, May 03, 2008

I begin today's blog with an ironic story. It may sound unbeliveable, but God (and Donia) as my witness, it indeed happened. Let me start out by saying that there are lots of intellects in Seattle. It is, in fact, one of the most literate cities in the country. That being said, there are also a lot of assholes. A lot. Guys who think they are soooooooooooo funny and soooooooooo clever and so very witty to their friends, and the girls they may be trying to impress. These guys are the worst kind. Give me a cute nerd reading Harry Potter and sipping a fat-free overpriced latte over these testoterone pumped, small penised, ugly-excuses for a potential mate to any self respecting girl any day. Ok, now that Ive painted you the picture of anger comes the irony: Its Friday night and Donia and I have decided to walk downtown and take in the scenes over a cup of coffee at the corner Starbucks. We are crossing the street on our way back to the bus when, wait, what's that? That wanna-be "thug" is yelling from his car at someone. Four-eyes? Did that grown man just yell four eyes? Before I could properly register what just happened, it hit me like a ton of bricks...I was four eyes! You see, at 2:30 pm on Friday, I picked up my brand new, first pair ever, glasses. So cute. Not just cute, but expensive, so you know theyve got to be stylish. I wear them for the next 8 hours, my eyes getting acclamated to them, and I am wearing them on our late night journey. And Im wearing them crossing the street. And Im the only one in sight wearing them when this car full of disgusting guys trolling for chicks yells out 'four eyes'. I look at Donia and ask, "was he yelling at me" and as I am speaking the words she is making gestures and pretending to laugh a pathetic, sarcastic laugh, yelling "wow, thats really clever and funny" at the douche-mobile. Thats my girl, always standing up for her asthmatic, freckeled, white skinned, and now four eyed, girlfriend. We, of course, laughed it off immediately for many reasons:
1. They are pathetic to think making fun of people still makes you cool at their age. They had to be 25+ at least.
2. No one past the age of 11 uses the term four eyes, precisely because no one past the age of 11 gets offended by the term 4 eyes.
3. As Donia is mocking them, none of them will look at us or acknowledge they did it, so now its also a pussy-mobile.
4. Everyone in Seattle wears glasses! People who dont need glasses pretend they need glasses just to fit in! People with good eyesight here are shunned and forced out by the intellects who do wear them!
5. WHAT ARE THE FUCKING CHANCES THAT, HOUR 8 OF HAVING GLASSES EVER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, I WOULD BE CALLED THE OLDEST GLASSES-WEARING SLUR IN THE BOOK?!

It was too unbelieveable to be, and Donia's quote was, "If I wasnt here right now, Id never believe this story if you told me".
I dont think I believe it, and I was the victim!
Hope those guys had a good night. We sure had a great time laughing at their pathetic Friday night activities. They probably went out later and knocked over some old ladies, kicked puppies, and peed in some Holy Water.
Four eyes...puh-lease. Four eyes or two, Im still a better catch than anything theyll ever find. Especially with that attitude! *pushes glasses up on her nose*

After that story, I think we need a day to reflect, and remember: before you go out making fun of others for your own enjoyment, God hates douchebags and douchebags go to HELL...