tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2161474272788172782024-03-05T21:30:08.064-08:00If It's About Nothing Then It's About Something...It's the life and times of my life and times, which you may or may not be interested in learning about. I assume this blog will be read by those who are bored--or stalkers. (I'd be lucky to get a stalker, don't think I'm ungrateful). Just know that I know this isn't interesting stuff, I've read funnier obituaries in my day compared to some of my posts. I do this because in some way it helps me bring humor to some of the mundane, everyday ridiculousness that is life.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-81768067646822827432012-10-18T05:51:00.002-07:002012-10-18T05:51:40.734-07:00Kevin the Handyman: my anxiety-inducing boyfriend.Meet Kevin. Manager of Panera, father of Ren, looker-after of two wayward chihuahuas (bless his heart), but most importantly <i>fixer of things</i>.
I've never been with someone that was so handy, so self-sufficient (no
offense to you {insert ex's name here}. You were less self-sufficient
but, trust me, it fit your personality).<br />
<br />
So, the
things. I will give him this: he knows what he is doing...most of the
time. He primed the oil tank by reading about it online (yes, it was
smokey downstairs for a while today, but hey, that probably wasn't his
fault. Right?). He installed not one but TWO hanging wine racks for my
glasses. He changes his own oil, uses power tools like a champ, and is
currently in the middle of ripping up a rotted floor in the basement.
There was the time he installed AC's into the two bedrooms upstairs (so
what if we used balled up socks to block the airholes all summer) and of
course he redecorated the now infamous "lanai" all by his lonesome one
night while I was at work. He breaks into his own house when he has no
key, puts together Ikea furniture with no instructions (does he have a
death wish?!) and found an old jeep cherokee door at a junkyard to
replace the smashed-in door he had. But the most anxiety-ridden project
up til now definitely has to be when he transformed into
super-geek-squad status and replaced the camera on his phone. That's
right, let me say that again, he took apart a cell
phone--completely--and replaced the camera. How, you ask? YOUTUBE.<br />
<br />
For
some reason he believes in YOUTUBE so much that he feels by watching
another do-it-yourselfer expert, he will somehow become one. That may be
the case, but it may also be that HE FAILS MISERABLY AND DOESN'T HAVE A
PHONE ANYMORE. This is definitely the belief I had when I sat 3 feet
from him as he began taking his phone apart, piece by piece, while he
listened to a strange British man describe his every move. Pause. Play. Rewind. Repeat. I want to be supportive, so instead of telling him how <i>insane </i>I
thought he was, I just sat and did my jigsaw puzzle. I did not look up.
I did not utter a word. I barely breathed at all. The anxiety was
building up inside me while so much uncertainty ensued: what would
happen when he did, indeed, take the motherboard out? How would we
afford a new phone for him? What if something happened and he lost every
contact ever? Every pic? HIS WHOLE LIFE!? *here is a example of me
being crazy and hopeless and completely irrational about things, like
cell phones* And what is he doing while I am doubting everything <i>ever </i>in the universe?
He's smiling along to the video, using his tiny screwdriver and his
tiny pry tool to take out every last tiny computer part of this piece of
electronic equipment. He doesn't know I'm freaking out, so he even goes
on to say, once the whole thing is apart and the new phone has been
installed, "Hmmm, he doesn't say how to put it back together...I don't
remember where <i>this</i> piece went...um, maybe...here?" Well that
does it! I can't take it anymore. I smile my fakest smile over to him
and, ever so lovingly, declare that I think he's a complete lunatic for
what he did, how are we going to keep in touch now, what is going to
happen when he can't get a new phone, blah blah blah CRAZINESS!<br />
<br />
The calm look on his face doesn't change and, like any smart man, he ignores my hysteria completely.<br />
<br />
Fast forward 5 minutes: I'm now avoiding eye contact like the plague.
At this time I've moved on to straight up irrational ANGER at him for
breaking his cell phone and trusting a website (the one that brought us
Gangnam Style, mind you) to be able to take him through this successfully. As I'm getting ready to scold him and explain why, as his <i>elder</i>,
I know more than him, not only about life, but about cell phones, tiny
tools, and idiotic websites that make montages of kitties famous for
god's sake, he is putting the last baby screw back into his phone. Now
I'm quiet because I know that, in seconds from now, he is going to feel
an overwhelming rush of regret wash over him when his phone stays black
as he holds down the power key. I don't want it to seem like gloating
with my I-told-you-so speech, so I make the decision to hold off. I'm a
really good girlfriend.<br />
<br />
Good at everything except believing in my Mr.-Fix-It boyfriend. Cue MY overwhelming feeling of stupidity and regret...NOW.<br />
<br />
Wouldn't you know that damn phone not only <u>turned on</u>,
but took an unsuspecting picture of me, a face full of true shock and
surprise. He snapped away at different things in the living room,
testing his work. Then he found all his contacts, pictures, and even
sent me an adorable test text to make sure that worked as well. He was a
proud peacock as he acted like he didn't care that the woman he loved
had no faith in him whatsoever.<br />
As his last way of showing me
there were no hard feelings, and seeing as this was not one of my
prettiest facest or proudest moments ever, like the good boyfriend<i> he is</i>, he erased any and all evidence of the first (and last) night I doubted his handyman skills.<br />
<br />
Jerk.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-9525637763940365762012-10-11T05:45:00.000-07:002012-10-11T05:45:55.974-07:00Let's talk about freaky signs in life.<br />
<br />
You know, the kind that make you go "oh shit"?<br />
<br />
The other night I was talking to an old friend who said that I should start blogging again. I explained that, with being so busy with the baby, boyfriend, and job, among everything else, it just didn't seem feasible. Fast forward to last night, when I had a dream (terribly disturbing dream, actually) that I got SHOT. IN THE BACK. I remember seeing it happen, putting my hand on my back, and feeling the blood pouring out. The next thing I know I can't feel parts of my body and I'm being led out of a restaurant. It was the first time I'd been out since the incident and, in normal dream fashion, I was passed out for only 27 hours, then back up and at em. Right before Ren woke me up with her baby shrieking, I made the realization to my mom that I could never work again, and that the only thing I was ever going to be able to do was write.<br />
<br />
Cue dramatic music and voila!<br />
<br />
I'm back.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-87769553779333714292010-06-25T14:01:00.000-07:002010-06-25T14:28:54.894-07:00Letter to my 20 year old selfDear 20 year old Leah,<br /><br />I'm writing to you because you have a lot going on right now and could probably use the advice. I know, I know, too little too late. But better late than never, I guess, even if you can't use any of what I will tell you.<br /><br />All of this stuff swirling around in your head right now, the stuff that keeps you thinking that this will never end well and that you will never know where to turn? The stuff that makes you feel scared and worthless and like you're just never gonna be ok? I promise you that soon enough, but not soon by<em> any</em> means, you will be stable. Your thoughts will make sense, you will think of yourself over them (those people that seem to be the only reason you breathe), and you will be able to say "yes, no, maybe, I don't know" as much as you feel inclined. Your feelings right now, though the lowest they will ever get (I promise, it won't <em>ever</em> be worse), the darkest days you will see in your life (at least til 30, I can guarantee), you <em>need</em> them. I know, call me fucking crazy (oh yeah, you won't stop swearing either), but they are there for a reason. Even though they make you feel like you can't/won't/shouldn't go on, you can/will/should. You will see the lessons in a little while, but for now, just push through. Please.<br /><br />You are hot right now. You may not be this hot again, well, ever, so live it up. Wear what you want, prance around and be confident. You are not confident, and you think your butt is big now, but you are mistaken. Shake your tiny ass on a table-top and have fun.<br /><br />The ones you think are your real friends really are. Also, the ones you think are your real friends really aren't. It is going to be hard to figure this all out, but just go with it. Don't hurt people, give them a chance, and be there for everyone you can. They may look back and thank you someday. Some of the people that you thought were gone for good will be some of your best friends for life, so be careful and treat each person as if they were fragile glass. Don't break anyone.<br /><br />Ahhhh, but then we come to the part where you DO break some of them. You are going to do this, though I swear you didn't mean to. Always do what you think is right, what you feel in your heart, but know that this is not always going to bring a positive result, no matter what you do or how hard you try. You yourself will also be broken, but please know you can and will pick up the pieces and go on. No? You don't believe me? Just wait. Those you have hurt will come back, and you will make good with those you are supposed to. You will be surprised who is still in or back in your life in 10 years.<br /><br />As you do now, remember your family is most important. You are very dependent on them, but you will eventually stand independent of them, instead of being lost among them. You need them, but you need them in a way you don't even realize yet. You will lose some of them, and this will crush you. Be there for the rest, as it will heal you in the process.<br />And when you think that it is over and that they will never love you again, wait it out. They will. We will be waiting a long time to see the outcome of such events, but we will never let go.<br /><br />The things you think are lame will be your favorite things, and you will be a dork. Embrace it. You have so much insecurity and shame, but someday it will be lifted like a heavy wet blanket. It will feel amazing.<br /><br />Try and be more confident in what you do and decisions you make. This is worthless to tell you because you won't do this, but in a few years you will realize you are an ADULT (augh!) and that there are so many more things that are important than what you think now. What you see as an end all is really just a tiny drop in the bucket. Forgetable.<br /><br />Save your money, don't make me work two jobs forever! You will make good money soon and have the time of your fucking life. I look back and wish you didn't spend so much, but you know what, I can't blame you. Even now I tell the stories of the crazy fun times you had and smile with my friends about it. Good job.<br /><br />Keep yourself safe. Mentally, emotionally (though these will be the hardest) and physically. We are still kicking now, so you did an ok job of that. Your metabolism rules, but try and be healthy. If not, I'll try to right the wrong you did.<br /><br />You are going to think your life is going to go one way, that you are set, that your future is in stone. And then, BAM!, it is all going to fall to pieces. This will be tragic and devastating every time (yes, I said <em>every</em>), but you will pick up what you can salvage and keep going. You will find better every time, but you'll never know til you're there. It's ok, you will watch this go on all around you and you will feel less alone and lost. Everyone will end up better for it in the end. They just have to.<br /><br />Don't burn bridges, learn patience (and practice it often) and always be open to new things. Treat others with compassion always, and let go of anger. This will be the only way you can go through this life with ease. I do all of these things still, and someday 40 year old us will write us and laugh at just how much we didn't know, even today.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-55934251361842115032010-04-26T13:50:00.001-07:002010-04-26T14:15:28.574-07:00A for EffortSo you know how my gf is absolutely insane, right? <br /><br />Actually, to say she is insane is to say she tries the same thing over and over and always expects a different result. This is kind of the opposite, as she needed to do something once, but didn't, and expected the problem to go away by itself, but THAT DIDN'T HAPPEN. So, this ensued.<br /><br />Here is just a small example of the maniacal world Donia and I live in. Just a glimpse into our reality, one riddled with crazy thoughts, pointless problems, and booze. Lotsa booze.<br /><br />Let me point out that though there is usually booze, she did this sober. ALL OF THIS CAME ABOUT SOBER. Especially the relentless complaining, which makes it harder to tune her out. She drives me to drink, I tell ya, and here is an example of why.<br /><br />Donia is a pretty rational being, I would say, and she is very intelligent. She can debate the shit out of anything because she IS the devil's advocate. No, srsly, he actually, like, hired her and made her fill out a W-2 form and everything. She works for him and will argue any of the points he presents to her. Not a bad gig, 2nd job-wise.<br /><br />She has this coworker who we will call "Mary", because honestly, every anonymous story has a Mary in it. Mary is overweight, which is fine, but her chair does not think so. Mary's chair squeaks and do you know how I know this? Because Donia has brought up the squeaky chair EVERY DAY FOR THE LAST 2 MONTHS. Not every other, not only business days, no. Every. day. Now I love my gf and I'm there for her and to listen and blah blah blah but really??!! Get over it, put your ipod in, do something to take your mind off the fact that you have never harmed a human but you want to SCRATCH MARY'S EYES OUT AND THROW HER ON THE FLOOR when she moves about and is sqeaking. And please, do it quick, cuz I can't be with you if she is going to be the topic of conversation over dinner dates EVERY TIME WE GO OUT.<br /><br />So here is what my batshit crazy gf has done about this. She can't possibly tell Mary that she annoys the shit out of her because 1. she is too nice and 2. she has to work with her. She can't switch chairs because there are no extras, and besides, she is convinced nothing will stop the squeaking, it is the person-to-chair ratio working against her here. She can't move her desk because that would be too obvious, she says. "Hey yeah, no, love you to death, just can't stand to sit next to you anymore. No reason". To that I say fuck obvious, you need your sanity (and for the love of God, I need mine back as well).<br /><br />About a month ago, I was in charge of doing the bi-monthly Walmart trip to grab all the toiletries and supplies we would need for the apt. On this list I see WD-40, and I immediately wonder what in the hell we need this for, and how does Donia know what this is? I know you would think she is the handy one, what with her baggy jeans and lack of femininity, but I'll tell you here and now that if it is broken, Leah fixes it. If it is too high to reach, Leah gets it down. And when something goes awry I work on instincts and experience, while she googles the hell out of "What to do when the microwave starts sparking and sets the kitchen on fire".<br /><br />So I go to Walmart and I'm searching for this WD-40 that she insists she needs for reducing the noise the fan in the bathroom makes-- a loud rattling noise. Ah-ha, my assumptions were correct. SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT TO USE THIS SHIT FOR. This particular rattling is not something that this product was made for, but that darling dear insists she needs it. "Just do it Leah. Remember all those hot pink towels you bought when I sent you for guest towels? Yeah, this is for that." Touche, my good sir, and good game.<br /><br />I am all done at Walmart, I have gotten through the list in record time. I have coupons ready and I want to go, but what is left on this list? You got it, WD-40. I am going up and down the "man" aisles, as I like to call them, looking for this shit. And they are not "man aisles" because women can't use the things in these aisles, but because if you are seen in them in Walmart and you are not a man ALARMS GO OFF! They track you down, it's like they can smell your estrogen and within moments there is a man in a blue smock asking "Are you lost, little girl? Where is your husband/bf/brother/father/protector?" On this day, though, just my luck, my estrogen was non-existent apparently because NO ONE WAS AROUND. I searched every aisle, from camping to home improvement to automotive to paint. It was a crap shoot where this shit really was. I even mosied by the guns a few times just to look creepy so that someone would jump out and ask me "ARE YOU TRYING TO STEAL A WEAPON AND ROB US??" to which I would have replied "No, thank you for asking. But now that you are here..." and I'd use and abuse that toothless sales associate for all he was worth! I got nowhere, I started to give up, but I remembered all those times I came home with stupid shit that Donia detested, but let slide, and I knew I couldn't leave without this shit.<br /><br />I looked another ten minutes, up and down the same aisles. I looked in the toy aisle hoping to find an empty plastic knock-off for little boys playing mechanic that I could bring back and then say "Oopsie, didn't know it was pretend", but I saw nothing. Finally, I heard a strange sound...angels singing?...trumpets sounding?...and there it was. WD-40 is kept between automotive and camping stuff ON THE TINIEST SHELF KNOWN TO MAN. It's in a corner by itself! There is no other product like it, its not tucked between the other greasy stuff and the oily stuff. No, it has its own zip code in Walmart, which is code for HAHAHA FUCK YOU THAT WAS A FUN GAME FOR US! Hide the WD-40 is awesome, let me tell you, and when I finally did grab a can I was tempted to go BACK to the guns and ammo and really let Walmart know how I feel. I'm sure all you need to have to get your hands on one of those rifles is a drivers license and some sort of knowledge of a Jeff Foxworthy redneck joke and you're in. Also, I have boobs, so knowing the men working back there, I'd have myself a whole arsenal AT A DISCOUNTED PRICE in no time.<br /><br />I got home and put the WD-40 away, hoping that it has slipped Donia's mind that she needed it. It did not. That girl is an elephant, and I can say that because I am referring to her elephant brain that forgets nothing! She whips out the can that night and uses a <em>screwdriver</em> (oh shit!) to take off the cover to the bathroom fan. I am in the living room with 9-1-1 on speed dial as I am praying to God above that whatever comes of it, the disfigurement won't be that devastating. If she loses a limb in the explosion, please let it be her left arm, cuz the bitch is fast on the 10-key and that job is our livelihood.<br /><br />It somehow (thank you, Jesus!) goes off without a hitch and she thinks she has fixed the fan. "Listen to that, Leah, silence! SILENCE!", until 3 hours later when she turns it on and it rumbles its harmonious rumble again. The girl is defeated. I assume she will throw the WD-40 that I ALMOST KILLED FOR in the trash, and that would be the end of "Donia: Miss Fixit."<br /><br />Fast forward to last Thursday when her phone started going off in the living room and I needed to silence it. She was downstairs and I saw that her alarm was going off to alert her of a reminder she had set. We have no secrets, so I opened it to see what she needed to know at that moment. I figured if it said "call my other bitch" that she was already downstairs, and I would just deadbolt the door and be done with her for the night. Crackheads sleep under the building, so why can't she? At least, unlike them, she has body fat to keep her warm when the temp drops.<br /><br />The alert said "WD-40" and I had horrifying thoughts of what this could mean. Did I have to go buy more because there was no way I was going throught that again. I had PTSD! Just the thought of going back to that battlefield would give me flashbacks like a Vietnam Vet. Then I thought, more worried, what does she need to grease up <em>now</em>? <br /><br />Then it hit me. The whole past couple months flashed before my eyes and I realized what she was doing. She came upstairs to prove me right: when questioned, she indeed told me SHE WAS TAKING IT TO WORK. She methodically planned to have it on hand for the single opportunity to use it on Mary's chair! She WAITED for Mary to mention she was taking a day off, for a whole MONTH she waited, and now she was ready to jump in and grease the shit out of that chair! Part of me wanted to commit her for being so preoccupied and menacing about planning this crazy ruse, and the other part of me wanted to give her the pulitzer prize for brilliance. She said that Mary would be out the next day and she gets to work so early that no one would be in to walk to her area and smell the chemicals til they had already dispersed and ceased to smell anymore. This. girl. is. dangerous. I best watch my step as well as my back. If anything ever goes wrong and something happens to me: USE. FORENSICS.<br /><br />Donia, indeed, got up the next morning, packed that shit in her bag, and went off to work. She, indeed, sprayed the shit out of that squeaky chair that was bringing her to a homicidal place, and she, indeed, sat back and smiled at herself for figuring out just how to make her life better. Proud as a peacock, she let me know "It is done", like some hitman who just got his target, and she washed her hands of the whole situation. Her life was complete again and she was at peace, or so she thought, until Monday morning when Mary came in, well-rested after her long weekend, sat down and<br /><br />SSSSQQQQQUUUUEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKKKK!<br /><br />went her chair.<br />(You can't win em all, kid, but you put up a good fight.)Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-8376998707271441032009-09-29T18:15:00.000-07:002009-09-29T20:05:35.901-07:00Yes, this just happened to meWhat you are about to read, internet, is what I would call a "bad day". Now, I am aware that people have bad days all the time, but me: I do not. I try to find the good in every day, and I constantly work on patience and awareness. Sometimes, though, it's just got to be statistics that say every day cannot be good. I guess I was long overdue, and this is what ensued. This story, in no way, is a dramatization of what actually occurred. It is a play by play of something I can't even call a bad day, because in actuality, this is one hour and 15 minutes of my life today.<br /><br />It started when I walked from work to my car in the parking garage, headed to see my trainer for the first time in 2 weeks! I wanted to cancel, of course, because it is much more fun to be lazy, but I said to myself, "Self: You need this. You will regret not going, and so you will go, and you will love how you feel after. Trust me". This pep talk happened as I walked in the brisk fall air of Seattle. I drove to the gym, found a wonderful spot right outside the gym and the ATM (double score!) and proceeded to turn the car off to get out and buy a parking sticker for the next hour. A tiny thought rushed past as I pulled the key out of the ignition and automatically, without thought as always, placed the keys in my purse. The thought said, "Lock or don't?" I immediately thought "lock" because the street I was on is riddled with homeless people and hoodlums, and my purse was on the front seat. I had my mini wallet in hand, opened the door, locked it with the auto lock on the door handle, stepped out and shut it. I walked halfway to the parking meter when I got that sense of impending doom in my tummy. Immediately I knew what I had just done, but I told myself, "Maybe not. Maybe you didn't hit the lock like you think you did." Just for shits and giggles, I walk back over to the car slowly, as if it was going to explode at <span style="font-style: italic;">any</span> second, and peeked in. ALL. DOORS. LOCKED.<br /><br />In moments like these, the mind starts going so fast that you can't really think straight. My first idiot move was to check the locked doors. Maybe today, by some act of God, they would open. Even though they were locked. Maybe for some reason. COME ON GOD, JUST MAKE THE LOCKS BROKEN! Jeez, srsly, is this really happening? Last time this happened it was Donia's fault, and it's so much easier when it's someone else's fault, isn't it?<br /><br />My next stupid thoughts were "I'll call Donia". No phone-it's in the car. "I'll just tell my trainer that I can't work out with her, I'll use a payphone." No phone numbers memorized. "I'll just go home and figure it out there." No keys=no house keys, no landline phone to figure anything out you idiot!!! I, luckily, had my ID, credit cards, and bus pass on me, so I deduce that the one and only thing I can do is walk back downtown to where Donia is working and get her keys. My God, tell me her keys are not in the car in her backpack that she dropped in there before her shift because she knew I'd be picking her up anyway. If I have that, at least, going for me, I'll hug and kiss the next person I see, dirty or not. I promise.<br /><br />Let me now share with you a little bit about Seattle weather. It is a common misconception that it rains all the time in Seattle. To clear this up, I will tell you that it is gloomy and cloudy and very much overcast for most of the year (we're talkin September through May). Now, when I say we have had the most beautiful summer ever, I mean it, and I have actually heard Seattlites themselves share this opinion with me over the last couple weeks. As fall rolls in, we have all been basking in the last rays of sunshine we can, and shedding a single tear for the weather to come. I bet you can guess where this is all going in my bad hour, and you guessed right. If you love irony, or just love the big ole F you this universe can thrust at you from time to time, you'll enjoy the next part of the story where I SWEAR TO GOD, INTERNET, IT STARTED RAINING TODAY IN SEATTLE. AFTER A BEAUTIFUL, RECORD-SETTING DRY SUMMER. It hasn't rained in I don't know how long, but it sure as shit rained today. The day I locked my keys in my car. And couldn't find a bus route. To take me downtown. The 30-some-odd blocks I needed to go. So I walked...<br /><br />And I walked and I walked and on my walk I thought of a few things. First was the negative "I hate my life life sucks I want to cry but I won't but I really want to but I can't cuz people will see me and think I'm a crackhead all f'ed up walking down the street in the rain and SO HELP ME GOD IF ONE CRACKHEAD ASKS ME FOR MONEY I WILL SPEW THIS WHOLE PATHETIC STORY ONTO THEM UNTIL THEY ARE CRYING FOR ME AND NOT THEMSELVES ANYMORE". That is where I am at at this point. My next thoughts were good ones because, seeing as I wasn't giving in to the urge to cry, I was going to need to think positive. I had Donia as an out-I knew exactly where to find her and didn't need my phone to do it. I'd worn a hoodie and sneakers today to work because I was that lazy and didn't feel like doing more than putting on a wrinkled tee and covering it in an oversized sweatshirt. Well, at least that was going for me too. And I had my ID and money so if, God forbid, Donia had no keys for me, I had the means to drink until her shift was over. And the means to drink a lot. My last thought was that I wasn't getting to work out, but I sure as hell was getting a nice walk in for the day.<br /><br />Sidenote: you may be asking yourself why I didn't call AAA. Well, readers, my membership had expired as of last month, and when I saw the $80 necessary to renew it, well now. You <span style="font-style: italic;">know</span> that in true Leah form I procrastinated because WALKING TO THE KITCHEN AND WRITING A CHECK IS REALLY TAXING, and I probably wouldn't really need AAA, right?<br /><br />Let's see, where are we now, ahhh yes. We are somewhere downtown in Seattle between the car--which, btw, does not have a parking sticker on it because I couldn't open the door to put it in the window and NO WAY IN HELL AM I PAYING FOR PARKING SO THAT SOME ASSHOLE CAN WALK BY AND, JUST FOR FUN, STEAL MY PARKING STICKER THAT'S HANGING ON THE OUTSIDE OF THE WINDOW--and Donia's work. I will not let anyone have the last laugh in this one, besides maybe the meter maid who will surely find my car and give me a ticket. That fact I am just putting out of my mind for the time being. I've got bigger fish to fry.<br /><br />Walking through Seattle is always a challenge, and at this time of night people out on the streets are ready to party, and when I say people I mean those living on or near these streets who are always wasted/cracked out. They are in rare form as all of the timid 9-5ers wait at the same bus stops they do their drugs at, and it's fun to see them all scared, with their ballet flats and their umbrellas, as some drugged up woman screams, "No one want to lay next to yo scrawny ass anyway, you nuttin but a child molester, motherfucker!" Ahh, lovers quarrels. I guess crackheads need love, too. But you do remember that I am taking NO SHIT on this walk today and I am ready to <span style="font-style: italic;">go</span>, come on hooker, give it all you got! I've never hit a bitch, but I ain't got nothin against starting my fightin history with you. Bring. It.<br /><br />I make it through the storm (literally, but not literally, more to come on that soon) and finally reach the symphony hall where Donia is catering. Yes, fancy shmancy symphony hall with well dressed people saying intelligent things sipping $15 glasses of Moet. I am in the elevator and I just know I have to exit the elevator and walk past the entrance to the gathering they are having tonight, probably a high priced hou- long appetizer and wine party that cost more than any wedding I've ever attended. Wouldn't you know it, the elevator doors open and there's a lovely group of business men using words far beyond my comprehension, and me in my rain soaked hoodie, ripped jeans and sneaks. I rush into the kitchen ASAP and summon Donia over to get her keys and...drumroll...SHE HAS THE KEYS! Lord, You have not forsaken me, nor will You ever. Amen.<br /><br />Some of the staff has a laugh over my debaucle, but they still really don't know all the gritty details of the last, at this point, 40 minutes. I get the keys and leave as quickly as I can, so not to embarass my girlfriend or my place of work with my wet-rat appearance any longer. Now I exit the building and, if I thought I was a wet rat before, I ain't seen nothin yet. I get outside to good news and bad news. Good first? Ok, well, my bus, the only one I know will get me to the vicinity of where I am going, is sitting outside the door, but about to leave. I run to the door and just make it. The bad news: It is downpouring. Like DOWNPOURING. Remember that little meteorology lesson I gave before on Seattle weather? Well, I forgot to tell you that it just doesn't ever rain hard here. It's always a sprinkly, drizzly rain. Keeping with the theme of the hour, you guessed correctly that it hasn't downpoured but a half a dozen times in the 2 years I have been here. Make today time #7...<br /><br />Now, this bus ride is in an unfortunately busy area at an unfortunately busy time, but at least I'm dry. Or drying. The stop I need comes pretty quickly, but it is approximately another 10 blocks from where my car is. Did I mention that it. is. raining? And hard? At this point nothing is breaking me though, I have already come so far, I can see the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. I know I will soon be home and in a snuggie. I can feel it! I can taste it! I can smell...whoa. Just then I pass by a covered bus stop and I see a woman struggling to light a cig. Then I realize, after that god-awful and unfamiliar smell that, internet, I think I just got my first wiff of crack cocaine. Srsly, I have never been in the actual presence of it before, but that smell was like no smoke I have ever smelled before. I press on because no little <span style="font-style: italic;">contact high</span> is going to stop me now, even if I do feel woozy and sick. I get closer and closer, and yes, I know everyone is looking at me saying , "That poor girl", but more likely saying, "That scrubby girl lives on the street. She should get a job like the rest of us". I guarantee people thought this because it just so happens that where my car was parked and where I was now in my journey is an area of Seattle riddled with homeless teen and twenty something runaways who are always strung out and looking to panhandle or rob you. At this moment I could have been one of them, no one would have known better. Great, now I'm insecure too!<br /><br />I reach the car and magically, and unbelievably to me, I HAVE NO PARKING TICKET! An hour and fifteen minutes, and no meter maid came by! It is pure luck I tell you, because in this exact spot a month ago I saw a man park, run into a deli, and come out under 3 minutes later to a ticket. I kid you not. I blew God a kiss and threw him a wink. He wasn't all bad today, with his little "let's see what you can handle before you crack" joke that he played on me. The keys, the rain, the lack of busses, the dodging of the crackheads. It was all a test of my patience. Well, A++ if I do say so myself, with extra credit for not bitching someone out or shedding a tear in the process.<br /><br />I am finally in the car, soaked to the core, but victorious. I actually took camera photos to reiterate just how wet it was out. When I said no dramatizations, I meant it. Worst case scenario EVER!<br /><br />I am now home and in dry clothes, a snuggie thrown over me for warmth. Yes, I do have to leave the house again later to get Donia, but you know one thing...I AM NOT GETTING OUT OF THAT DAMN CAR FOR ANY REASON. Keys in the ignition until I am good and ready to run back into the apt and back into the snuggie for the night. I'm not taking any more chances with this day.<br /><br />Please excuse my language when I say fuck you, Tuesday, and all of your dirty wet tricks.<br /><br />** I now invite the aforementioned "one-uppers" to top <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">that</span>, biotch!**Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-9819979137877612212009-07-27T13:39:00.000-07:002009-07-28T21:43:57.113-07:0029 for the next 5 years, at least.For the first time ever, I was very content--no, I actually felt the <span style="font-style: italic;">urge</span>--to be alone on my birthday. Not alone like off-myself-when-no-one-is-looking alone, but alone in that I wanted to stay home from work and wake up when I wanted and do what I wanted and walk by myself and think about the number 29. The AGE 29. A friend pointed out that today is the first day I am 29, and the first day for many years to come that I will claim to be 29. I love that. I have seen it on TV and in the movies, and no one wants to let go of 29. So for the next year, I will enjoy it.<br /><br />Someone also once told me (I have lots of friends with lots of good ideas) that you change every 7 years. You, your personality, your view on life. Think about it sometime. If this is true, then the last year has been a huge change in me, and I agree with that. Not my location or relationship or friendships or likes and dislikes, but an innate change in yourself that you can just feel. A way of seeing the world clearer, with less filters. A way of knowing that all that mattered before was just a shallow view, a terribly skewed and backwards view of what it's really all about.<br /><br />I feel like I don't care what people think--of course everyone says this when they are trying to prove maturity--but it's not like that at all. It's not in a rebellious, "I'm wearing these sweats out and I don't care what people think" way, when what you're really looking for is the attention being different brings. It's in the "I don't even care if I'm uncool or that that 16 yr old Paramore fan just made a comment to her friend about how the 'No Doubt crowd' is a bit <span style="font-style: italic;">older</span>." It's just a content and happy feeling that you have for your own life, and for what you have. You don't compare it to others' lives or try to live parallel to theirs. It's knowing that what you have is what you need and that the road that got you there was important. It was the <span style="font-style: italic;">whole point</span>.<br /><br />Last night I was happy about today being 3 hours away. I won't say I'm happy to be this age, but I know I am this age and I probably wouldn't want to go backward if given the chance. I wouldn't want to revisit the depression in college, the extreme insecurity (which lingers only but a touch), or the low self esteem that made me take my youth for granted and always look to be someone else. I see my flaws now, and though I'll never stop trying to change them to be <span style="font-style: italic;">better</span>, I will stop letting them hold me back from being who I can at the present moment. And I don't mean to get deep for the sake of getting deep, it is just that reflection helps when you're 29. You want to know that you will be ok and that, after all the prior b-days where you thought you wouldn't make it or just wanted aging to STOP, you did go on and experienced things and would never take those things back. I know, even at this "old age", I have so much more to do and be a part of that will change me and make me stronger and more aware. That is what keeps me going.<br /><br />I feel the need to be healthy and spiritual. I never needed to be healthy before, I was just lucky to have the biological makeup that I had. I have to work now, and I can't say I love it, but I see I need to do it. Religion and spirituality mean two different things to me, and I want to explore both my Christianity and my Spirit here on Earth and see how the three things can connect. The Earth is a magical place and if you don't think so just look at the other empty planets. I want to remember the little things, but not sweat them. I practice patience more than I can tell you, and I try to remember that we are all in this together, even those who are really just in it for themselves. They are the ones we need to reach out to the most and show that without others, they would be damn lonely on this big planet.<br /><br />Moving away has been a big part of "growing up" for me. I always went out on my own, had my roomates and dorm and apartments and such, but I never went away and experienced another place, void of my friends and family and the comforts of home. Now some do this and others don't, and to me both sides of the argument have their points. I do know that for me to see another side of the country, another culture in and of itself, different people and views and attitudes, has brought me a new understanding of me, the world, and the part I play in it. Of course I found people way over here that were like me and had the same views, and those people were easy to befriend. It's the ones that differ from us that open our eyes to thinking and feeling differently. If you give them a chance, <span style="font-style: italic;">everyone</span> can teach you something. I'm not even talking about being in search of a new religion or political stance or anything as drastic. It's just the small things that differ between place to place that make you not only appreciate that place, but more appreciate where you came from. I was against this move from the get go and ready to never give it a chance and beg my way home, but when I let go and rode out the experience, I got way more from it than I ever thought possible.<br /><br />I like having the confidence in myself to not need to hold my parents' hands all the way through (though some nights I just wanna be home with them!). I like knowing I don't take on the persona of the person I'm dating anymore and that I am me, no matter who I am with. I like feeling like I <span style="font-style: italic;">want</span> to be with the person I love, but not <span style="font-style: italic;">needing</span> to be with them to survive. I like having a clean slate with no secrets or lies that are always lingering in the back of my mind. I like to know that if something happens, I can count on me first and them second if need be That I can get myself through, but that I can reach out if I need a little help.<br /><br />I like knowing that after all these years, though only few have emerged victorious, I have some lingering good friends I can count on for anything. I have a best friend who is still here and we have changed together and still know how to use each other when we need a boost. You never know who you'll end up with when you are out partying and working and in school and meeting all sorts of people from all walks of life. I am happy to say that I have been able to hold on to the best of them, by the grace of God, and their graces as well.<br /><br />Sometimes I still feel that little girl's fears come out and I just want to run and hide. Sometimes the insecurities of my teenage years emerge and bring me down to places I never wanted to see again. And then there are the struggles that came in my early twenties where I sometime felt as if I were circling and circling only to find I could not pinpoint exactly what I was looking for. Dizzy from circling and booze and conflicting feelings and views coming from the people around me. Where I was disappointed every time I thought I had found IT, only to be heartbroken when I was told that this wasn't it yet again. I feel these things now because no one can ever be truly <span style="font-weight: bold;">whole</span> or <span style="font-weight: bold;">happy</span> or <span style="font-weight: bold;">okay</span>, but I deal with them as I know fit. Without these things we would not keep working at ourselves, nor would we see how far we have come and how proud we should be.<br /><br />Next year I hope to be closer to home for my 30th. In part because I'm almost ready to be there again, and also because I will need one big crazy ass party with lots of booze to keep me from going insane and crying for weeks. It will be one part party, one part suicide watch, and all parts love and fun. I am ready for adulthood, today on my 29th. I can't say I was ready yesterday, but this morning I woke up and made the decision to sign up, put on my "Hello my name is" sticker, and participate in the rest of life. To be rid of my 20's and prepare for the ever popular 30's. Is 30 the new 20? I'll never know and I'll never tell cuz I'm 29 from here on out...Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-12682932877393224352009-06-10T15:32:00.000-07:002009-06-10T23:22:45.908-07:00Gram<div>I haven't been inspired lately by too much...too much positive stuff that is. And though this is going to sound like a very negative situation that has inspired this blog, I can't take it as that at all. Maybe if you read on, you'll see what I mean...</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>We found out that my Gramma, a.k.a. Rev. Barbara Mattscheck/Barb/Gram/mom/Pastor Barbara, has cancer again. She beat breast cancer about 10 years ago, but the doctors are saying now she has a lump in her lung. The whereabouts and specifics of this cancer are not my main goal to get across here today, though. The point of this post is that you are only as sad, sick, helpless and depressed as you let yourself be. I realized the power of positive thinking and living a while ago, and I've never looked back since. My Gram is another one of those people, but to such a higher degree, I don't know if I'll ever get there. She does not work alone, but puts all of her faith and belief in God. I know this is what gets her through the day, and what will get her through this battle as she forges ahead.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>My mom broke the news to me about the cancer. My mom was not the one to explain the situation to me, though, as she was visibly upset and unable to get through it without crying. She handed the phone to Gram. Well, wouldn't you know, this woman got on the phone and acted as if she were going to tell me a fun story or announce wonderful news! She did not sound like a woman who was just told she had cancer at all, which is what helped me through the phone call. She went on very matter-of-factly, explaining to me what they'd found and what was going to be done. She talked about chemo with the positivity of someone talking about a lovely picnic in the park. She never got down with her tone of voice or even told me to worry or not to worry. To her this was another thing life had thrown at her, and she was gonna deal with it and move on. Now this is not to say Gram is not in touch with reality; in fact she is a very intelligent and rational woman. She just will not let the fear of this disease get to her. I am sure she is afraid in a way, but she has such neverending and unyielding faith, she doesn't even go to that scary place. She believes that the Lord will get her through this and that everything will be ok, and that's all the rest of us should believe as well. </div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>Maybe it is because I'm way out here in Seattle and don't see her all the time, but I just can't get afraid over this. Something in me says everything is going to be ok, that there is no way she is not strong enough for this. I wish I was there now to be with my family, who is in need of comforting right now, and it's times like this that I regret being way over here. I will see Gram in July, probably after she has already started chemo, and it will be very, very hard, but I know what I will find when I get there. A positive woman, without fear, who has put all of her health and wellness in God's hands.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I have to say, without offending the very few men in my family, that I know and have always known that Gram is the head of our little family clan. She is the matriarchal leader that we look to when things are bad, or even good. She has been a pastor her whole life, bringing the Word of God to people far longer than I can even remember or imagine! She has devoted her life to helping those in need, whether it be physically, mentally, or spiritually. Her aura just oozes faith and love and compassion. So many look to her not only as their spiritual teacher, but as a quasi mother, grandmother, or friend. Even the occupation that she chose for herself was not only selfless but rewarding! Dog shows and dog breeding brought in money, of course, but think of all those people who came to buy puppies that they and their family could love and enjoy for years to come! Nothing says love like chihuahuas and Jesus!</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I have always looked at my Gram, not as a timid and subservient woman from another generation, but as a strong woman who was ahead of her time. She is independent, and maybe a little pushy in stores, but she does what is best for herself and others and doesn't compromise herself. Just this past Christmas she had me and my mother on stealth missions in the middle of a fabric store, fleeing a potentially angry mob of consumers who would have stopped at nothing less than beating us to a pulp if they saw us leave with the items we came for hours before they would receive theirs (It's a long story, don't ask!). It's always an adventure going out with Gram, but her mantra is "there's always a way around everything". Some would think this is the mantra of a seasoned criminal, but I say "nope, it's just my Gram". There are endless stories I could tell of being with my Gram and the rest of the family, visiting and sharing and having some good ole fashioned family fun. You probably wouldn't believe some of the wackiness that has ensued in the past when Gram was involved, but some of my favorite past times are when these things occurred, or when we all sat around and reminisced about the stunts she's pulled. It's more fun than any bar I've been to with friends, any date night out at the movies, or any other mindless task we fill our days with. Family will just always beat all that other filler out.</div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>Currently Gram is leading her own church, as well as feeding and clothing the homeless and prostitutes in RI. What more could you ask for in a human being than to use their time and energy to help others? When I first heard about Gram's mission to go out and help people on the streets of the city, it was through a request that I give her all the clothes I didn't want anymore instead of throwing them out. When I questioned her on what she would do with them, she answered, "The prostitutes can wear them". At first I was appalled and offended that she thought my wardrobe was fit for a prostitute, but then I realized what she was doing. She was trying to get them off the streets and out of this line of work, which for most I'm sure was almost a necessity in order to just stay alive out there on the streets. Of course I made the obvious hooker jokes at first, but when I stopped to think about what my own Gramma was out there doing, I was amazed at the person she was. Brave and giving and doing the work that the Lord put her here to do. </div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>I can't even begin to understand why things like this happen to good people. People with such a positive influence in so many people's lives. People who could never be replaced. I am not saying that bad people deserve anything like cancer, but I am certain my Gramma doesn't for sure. </div><br /><div> </div><br /><div>She will tell you herself to just pray and believe. I'll never forget being 8 or 9 and struggling with asthma and my Gramma laying hands on me and saying "By the stripes of Jesus, I am healed". She taught me that Bible verse and, at the time (and even still a little now) I didn't really know what "stripes of Jesus" were. I pictured a zebra whenever I prayed that prayer in my bed, and I'll be honest, when I utter this prayer now, I still think zebra. The Lord works in mysterious ways, I guess...<br /><br />When people get sick they can either look to God and blame him and ask why, which was my first reaction. Your other option is to turn to Him and pray for strength and His power of healing. So I ask you now: pray for her, have faith, believe that she will beat this and get through it with help from the Lord. Be there for her when she doesn't feel well, be a support and a comfort to her when she needs it. I will do it from far away, but I will do all I can. This is not anything but a struggle she will get through with the love of her family and friends, and a bit of that faith that we should all be lucky enough to learn to have and to hold on to.<br /><br />I think it's sad that people don't always know how highly we think of them. It's times like these that make us think and wonder and appreciate what we have. We can question and be confused, but what we can't do is lose faith in God and the power he Has when we believe...<br /></div>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-14847184883957452832009-05-27T09:43:00.000-07:002009-05-27T11:44:10.826-07:00Vote no. Save our ship.So it is one day after the Supreme Court deliberated and looked again at the decision to keep same-sex marriage banned in California. This means it is one day after the SC pissed on the bill and then kicked it ‘til it cried…again.<br /><br />You know, today marks a day where a lot of people (Right wing? Religious? Topless Miss Californias all over the world?) are celebrating with a non-alcoholic drink and a dance party consisting of equal parts boys and girls, all covered from neck to feet in ugly garb and keeping 6 inches from each other at all times. I'm sure it's a hoot. Good for them, you know. Maybe they are right. The more I think about it, the more it seems like gay marriage IS a bad idea. My God, think of the repercussions! Let me lay them out for you, one by one, so you too can really decide if we want the sanctity of marriage to be ruined by these awful, awful gays.<br /><br />First off, all those arguments about the economy, blah blah blah. Do you seriously think that a bunch of gays are gonna throw huge bashes for weddings? With glorious, expensive, and lavish themes? Really? Come on now, if anyone knows the gays, it's me, and they do not like to do things up in such a way that you're blinded by glitter and sequins and diamonds. They are very modest and plain individuals who will not be putting any money into the economy if they are, in fact, finally (FINALLY) granted the right to have a wedding and marry. And the lesbians, come on, they are even less lavish. What, are we expecting them to have enormous guest lists or something? All those mouths to feed? The lesbian community is NOT HUGE or TIGHT KNIT and they don't ALL KNOW EACH OTHER, so just forget it. There's no way our economy would make money off of either of these groups. No marriage for them.<br /><br /><br />Secondly, I think that the gays could only ruin what we have already established as a successful and sacred tradition. Once they're married, they'll then start having sex, which is exactly what we're trying to avoid! Straight couples wait for the day that they are bonded through the ties of marriage before they ever even think about having intercourse! If we allow gays the same right, all of a sudden they'll start losing their virginities on their wedding nights, just like all of the straight people who are following the Lord's request to wait until that time. No way do we want to allow that! If straight people can wait until marriage and resist the temptation of sex for all those years, then they deserve marriage be kept for themselves and away from the gays.<br /><br />And another thing… I am so sick and tired of all these gay couples complaining they can't get married. How long have they been together, like a week? The sanctity of marriage is always upheld by straight people and let me tell you, they would never abuse it by eloping because the girl is knocked up, or because they got wasted and thought it was a great idea to get hitched. Never. The gays would probably do this. You are trying to tell me that there are gay couples that have been together for 10, 15, 25 years at this point and now want marriage because they have kids and are getting older and want to make sure their partner and children are protected should anything happen to them? B.S. They would never abide by the traditions straight people uphold of having a full courtship, meeting the parents when the time is right, staying abstinent, going through marriage classes, and giving their courtship ample time to be sure that what they are doing is the absolute right decision for both parties. The gays would probably mess it up and do crazy shit like get married for money, or for status, or because they have run out of options and don't think they'll ever find anyone. What if they start arranging marriages with teens! Can you imagine some cultish thing like that happening??!! They'd probably try to marry soldiers to get the monetary perks of being an army wife/husband. They'd probably troll websites looking for rich men and then get plastic surgery and dye their hair bleach blond and pretend they loved a man 50 years their senior just to inherit his estate. Damn those gays and their sneaky reasons for getting married. Straight people would NEVER sink so low.<br /><br /><br />The last thing I have to say is that gays marrying will totally mess up the family model as we know it. Families need two parents and I can't see two gays staying together after kids. I mean, I work hard for my money, and I am so tired of my tax dollars going toward these gays who just have, like, 6 kids and can't take care of them! Why are they so irresponsible? Why do they keep getting pregnant by accident? All my tax dollars going to their welfare payments? Birth control, gays, birth control. Why can't they take on the good practices of the straight people and wait and plan and make sure that they want the children and that they don't have multiple accidents. Straight people plan it out so well that they know, like, the exact day and time of conception! They don't just go out and get drunk and knocked up and then either neglect their kids or have abortions. Now I believe abortion is a woman's right... but really lesbians, let's stop using it as birth control, eh? I mean, I wish that gays understood how important children are and how they need loving parents. You don't see one straight parent taking off on the other and leaving their kids to wonder why mommy or daddy left them, do you? And please, gays, if you're gonna have all these unwanted kids, please put them up for adoption. Do you even understand how important adoption is to parents who can't have biological kids?<br /><br />America, stand by your decision to not allow gays to marry. They're not even real people, anyway, so how can their relationships be real? Really they're just actors and designers or characters on TV, you don't know any real gays, so just stick to your guns. They don't stay together forever like marriage says to, like straight people do. They won't take the vows as seriously as the straight people do either. They will just take advantage of this sacred rite that the straight people have cultivated and nurtured for thousands of years. Please, just read this and don't think it through muchLady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-36184222204798212452009-04-11T14:26:00.000-07:002009-04-15T12:22:22.611-07:00A lesson in love and sparkly onesies10 years ago, a girl named Britney Spears came on the pop scene (or should I say CREATED IT), and turned the world upside down. Then she said "OOPS", and all was forgiven. <br />When I finally realized that my "hate" for Brit was actually jealousy that festered because of my ex bf's love for her, I was able to get past it and get on the Brit train. The I love Brit train. The train that derails all others. <br />The concert in Tacoma (an hour outside of Seattle) the other night was amazing! My tickets came via Santa, aka Donia Claus, in Dec. 08 so I had 4 long months to wait for the concert. The day finally came last Thursday and we were off to the show, hours early so as to not hit traffic and get a good cheap parking spot (here is the evidence that times have changed and I'm very, very old). Being 2 hours early we went to a "mall" of sorts, that actually was an old train depot or something. Inside it was like a makeshift Fennual Hall in Boston, but like 1/100th of that and dirty. Downtown Tacoma was weird, it was gross, and frankly, I would be much more nervous to walk through there after dark than downtown Seattle. It just seemed like it had this evil aura, like people don't care about you and would jump you and beat you for your purse and phone. And then, just for good measure, maybe finish you off with a stabbing.<br />After eating at one of the strangest Mexican "restaurants" (a glorified fast food joint with beer and wine), we walked back up the road to the arena to get in line. With only 20 minutes til the doors opened, we wanted to get inside and get inside FAST! Upon arriving, we had noticed some "Jesus freaks" standing outside the arena. There were about a dozen, all spread out in pairs about 30 feet apart. They were holding signs that said things like "Trust Jesus" and "Fear God", and they were yelling and screaming at people to stop "idolizing" Britney. They were harassing young girls, some no older than 16, and telling them that because their hair was dyed and their face was made up, that they were committing "idolotry" (huh?) and that Britney served as a graven image they were praising instead of God. One girl just giggled and said, "You think I look and act like Britney? Thanks!" The protester's message was obviously lost in translation.<br />So many feelings about this. Number one, I can't help but feel a familiarity with "Christians" like this because I was raised attending a church that used some of the same scare tactics as these people. I remember a time I brought a high school bf to my church while I talked to a friend. There was nothing going on in the church that day, but we did come across the youth pastor while we were there. As I spoke to my friend, I noticed that the youth pastor had caught my bf's ear. I approached them and heard that the pastor was saying things like, "Why don't you believe? If you don't listen to me and believe YOU'LL GO TO HELL." Before I knew it my bf was attempting to get away from this man and as he was literally running out of the church, the pastor was still screaming to repent and believe or burn in Hell. I chased him out and he was visibly shaken and angry and disgusted with what had happened. He was so angry, and all I could do was cry and apologize and try to tell him that I wasn't crazy and neither were they. He was NOT buying that. This guy now had such a terrible and untrue picture of what a Christian was, and it was going to be very hard for him to ever trust anyone that tried to preach to him again. <br />New statistics show that 15% of people on the East coast don't identify with any religion. On the surface, some would say that the world is just getting more evil and that that is the reason God is so obsolete in some people's lives. Think about it, though: God hasn't changed. The Word is still the same. So why are there so many less believers? I think it has something to do with the messengers and the persons being entrusted with spreading the Word of God. These death and scare tactics that Christians are using now are turning people off and doing the exact opposite of what they set out to do. NOT ONE PERSON stopped to talk to those people or ask them about Jesus or what the Bible said. Not one of them got a chance to even embrace Christianity truly because they were AT A POP CONCERT BEING YELLED AT BY CRAZIES. I just had this funny image of God putting his head in his hands and sighing with defeat. This is not what he had in mind when he said, "Go into all the world and preach the Gospel". These people were simply laughable and not to be taken seriously.<br />The crowd was predominantly girls with dyed blonde hair and fake tans between the ages of 12 and 21, with a few gay boys, drag queens, with girls my age and a bit older sprinkled in. This was not the time, nor the place, for a sermon. It certainly wasn't fair to call Britney "evil" or talk about how she doesn't deserve children or life at all. It wasn't right to call people out on how they were dressed (not at all inappropriately) or on how they were at a concert because they held Britney above God. I don't know about the other 10,000 people, but when I have a problem or need spiritual guidance in life, I don't fold my hands and pray to Britney Spears.<br />I can only say that I wish people would take what religion they've learned and explore it for themselves. I wish those that were "brainwashed" by corrupt leaders would be led to question the teachings, find answers for themselves, and READ THE BIBLE instead of taking someone else's word for it. In a world full of internet lies, scams and fact checkers everywhere you turn, do we really wanna take a chance on these pastors who are just as twisted and money hungry as corporate bankers? I feel like the only way to find the truth in spirituality is to make the journey yourself.<br />If these people really knew what they were doing they'd stop badgering and start engaging. They'd ask people what they believed and, after really listening, offer up their opinion and belief and leave it open to the person's interpretation. They would have real FAITH, which is the one thing they are lacking when they preach. They don't get the word out there and then leave it to God like they should, they push and push and push until you're afraid not to believe, or you're just so pissed off you write it off altogether. We weren't put here to beat it into people, we were put here to open eyes and leave it to God. I don't think His plan was to have a bunch of followers who feared him <em>so much </em>that they didn't even know what they were agreeing to believe in.<br /><br />All this from a Britney concert. Who knew.<br /><br />I am so glad I got to see her again. This tour blew the Onyx Hotel tour out of the water. She worked her ass off and did stuff only a real pro could do. She looked amazing, and I would say she sounded amazing too, but only because she sang NOT ONE WORD LIVE. It's ok with me though. She is a performer and I definitely got what I wanted--an insane performance. <br /><br />I can't believe this Britney is the same Brit we saw in the last two years fall apart in front of our eyes. It says a lot for mental health meds, a good parent who uses tough love, and ridding your life of people who aren't in it for you. I think about a time when I felt out of control and was hurting and acting out because I had no idea what to do or where to go. I can't imagine doing that in front of millions of people, and then having to come back and prove myself again to all those people.<br /><br />That's why she is Britney and I am not. She seemed to be having a lot of fun and I hope she only continues on a good path. <br /><br />And I pray for those "Christians" who are fighting the good fight and protesting Britney with hate and anger. Come on, guys. Really? There are way bigger fish to fry than an innocent pop princess with a weave and a girlish southern accent.<br /><br />Can I get an Amen?Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-25838434219574740532009-02-22T11:18:00.001-08:002009-02-22T11:18:36.245-08:00HANG me OVER a bridge and pushOk, can I be honest for a sec? Good, honesty to come in 3,2,1...<br /><br />I may still be tipsy from last night this morning, maybe it's because when you throw up it affects you in the same way it did going down? Doesn't matter, point is I am sick and it's all my fault and I'm never drinking again...blah blah blah.<br /><br />This is hopefully an old skool-ish blog for y'all about nothing and everything and nothing all over again. <br /><br />TOP 10 WAYS TO KNOW DONIA IS AWAY FOR THE WEEKEND:<br />10. All the windows are open and it's February<br />9. The house is a MESS<br />8. More dishes in the sink than in the cupboards.<br />7. The hair in the shower drain could pass as a small redheaded animal<br />6. Garbage out on the deck is hazardous to humans and animals alike. I may be fined soon.<br />5. I stayed out past 10 pm last night.<br />4. Lots of uninterrupted internet time<br />3. Reality shows for 4 days<br />2. Same clothes I was wearing Thursday<br />1. Britney CD has been on repeat 24/7 since I dropped her at the airport!<br /><br />So it may seem like she's controlling and doesn't let me live my life as I want to...<br /><br />yep, that's it.<br /><br />She will be back today, which means I have to muster up enough sobriety and stomach control to go get her from the airport. I guess it's do-able, seeing as she makes the car payments and allows me to live my messy life in the Civic. <br /><br />Can I just make a shout-out right now? Mind you, I realize I am immature and a total dork, but think of it this way: the girl is a year and a half younger than me! (yes, I know this). I am, of course, speaking of Miss Brit Brit, aka Britney Spears. She is amazing, y'all, and I don't use that word all too often. Ok, usually only about really good nachos, but never about people. People have nothing on nachos. (Did I really just write that? Yes I did.) I have heard her CD now at least 30 times on repeat since January and I'm totally sold. Totally. Sold. At first I wasn't impressed, thought they all sounded the same, but now I can tell them apart as if they were my very own octuplets that I couldn't afford but loved with all the crazy in my heart. I guess that pretty much explains how I feel about B. Spears. She is my hero. (I wrote "herp" by accident first. Freudian slip?) I will see her in April and I am very tempted to go to the concert either donning the old skool "Baby one more time" outfit or the new "Circus" ringleader costume. Either way, there'll be pics. So what if just me and my gay male friends are into her. We're talkin guys who taught me to apply bronzer and who can always tell when I'm on my period. That's love.<br /><br />Point: listen to her CD. (or don't. I'll just die a slow, sad death)<br /><br />Another thing I desperately want to promote: Twilight. Again, I know, I have the mind of a preteen with the boobs of a woman, but I neeeeed you to read this. And this isn't the same as the Brit CD, that I just want you to hear it cuz I love it and I secretly know none of you will fall for it (hey, did I just say that?? regardless--LISTEN TO BRITNEY!) No, you need to read these books. You need to see the movie. Twice. Like me. With plans to see it for a third time in the theaters before it goes to DVD, which you will buy the moment it goes on sale, no matter what the asking price. You, at first, will not want to make it the whole way through the first book, but at some point it will hit you and you will be in love. And by in love I don't mean you will wish you were a vampire and give anything and everything to actually meet Edward and make him yours and live happily ever after as the love of a vampires life. That's my job.<br />P.S. I make sure that I know where Robert Pattinson is at all times. This week he is in L.A. Soon enough he'll be in Vancouver filming. I will be close by with a camera and a vial of my own blood (as a gift to him, of course). Angelina style.<br /><br />Was it really worth it?<br /><br />Was she everything that you were looking for<br /><br />To feel like a man?<br /><br />I hope you know that you can’t come back<br /><br />Cause all we had is broken like Shattered Glass.<br /><br /><br /><br />You’re gonna see me in your dreams tonight<br /><br />My face is gonna haunt you all the time<br /><br />I promise that you gon’ want me back<br /><br />When your world falls apart like shattered glass<br /><br />Come on! Brilliance! Where was this song 5 years ago?!! Don't you wanna go through this JUST TO DEDICATE THIS SONG TO SOMEONE?? Fine, me neither, but it would be super cool.<br /><br />Ok, last shameless plug, and this one is for those of you who like GOOD music, and by that I mean it's far from Britney. It's actual brilliance and this woman is amazing (like nachos) and talented and beautiful and I saw her live this year and wanted to go have a beer with her after and have her sing me to sleep (as I laid on the bed, she on the floor). Her name is Rachel Yamagata. Don't let the name hold you back. A-mazing. "Sunday Afternoon" is my new fav song right now. She's like Tori Amos sounding, except you don't have to try to figure out what the fuck her lyrics could possibly mean. She has real songs and real stories and if you've ever been hurt, you'll totally relate to her like Whoa. I would follow her around the country if I were rich and slightly tapped.<br /><br />I would like to thank Jenna W-H for letting me rip a fence down yesterday and use my muscles and tools, and for the juicy and delicious chicken sandwich she rewarded me with. It was a fun end to my weekend alone. Smashing things just makes you feel alive and necessary and a little dangerous. Now I know why rockstars tear hotel rooms to shit. Any aggression I had is now gone, and left to the wood panels I hacked away at and then threw to the wayside. Like an old, worthless lover. Except I've never hit a lover with a crowbar. Yet.<br />(disturbing?)<br /><br />Wow, I've been sitting here an hour tick tick ticking away at the keyboard and I feel I've accomplished nothing. Maybe I'll start a monthly newsletter to catch everyone (the three of you who care) up on the comings and goings of my life out here on the West Coast. <br />Would you read it? (circle yes or no)<br /><br />I must go now, for the sole purpose of vomiting again. TMI, I know, but I need someone to suffer with. Misery loves company, after all. And stomach bile especially loves others to be present when it rears its ugly yellow head.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-55407663368789636362009-02-10T11:32:00.000-08:002009-02-10T16:31:07.042-08:00Where have all the Grammys gone?I'll tell you where, to some place in cyberspace where it's quicker to see who won and there's less "get off the stage, time's up" music to have to answer to. "We must cut down on the showtime (just under 4 hours) so let's GET RID OF THE AWARDS AND MAKE IT A CONCERT!" More on this later...<br /><br />This year's Grammy recap begins where all Grammy's begin...no, not the mold they're made from, though speaking of mold (and molds), our opening performer is not only old, but he is one of a kind. I of course mean the smashing performance by none other than U2. Led by that adorable little Bono (it's Bahn-o, not BONE-O! Don't make me giggle), who I am happy to see is still able to jump around like the 50-something he was back in the 80's. We can all see where they have gone with this performance: in Ozzy-mumbling style, Bono is starting to age (or get lazy) and it makes for a difficult time understanding his lyrics. Think fast! Let's put the lyrics up behind him! He'll never know, I promise, he'll just see the audience singing every word and be pleased as Irish Whiskey Punch. Let me just say, grandpa never looked so chic...and his eyes! He has revealed his eyes and they're...well...adorned with eyeliner? Hmm, who knew that this whole time he has been hiding this sucidal-angst-ridden-emo-teen persona...<br /><br />WHitnayyyyyyyyyy! Hey grrrrrrrrllll, wha's up!? Looks like miss thang 86'd Bobby and cocaine, subbed 25 lbs and a new stylist and came up with voila! Perfection. Seems good all around, except maybe for her out-of-work dealer. And btw, Whit, get off of Clive "He's still Alive?" Davis's jock...<br />Best R&B Album: Of course they had to give it to Jennifer Hudson. Haven't heard the album, so I can't say if it is even warranted, but her acceptance had to make you a little teary-eyed. "My family down here, and in Heaven..."<br />The Rock...er, sorry, Dwayne Johnson. Yeah, apparently that's his real name. I'm sorry, but if you've seen his movies or listened to him chirp like a school girl, you will agree that he is still affected, still cheesy, and still useless, except in a Speedo and grease.<br /><br />Justin Mothaf'in Timberlake (he likes when I call him that)! Nice zoot suit, J.T. Here he is pretending to love soul music because he's from Memphis. He brings out Al Green to do a duet. Sorry, dude, up until Justin sang his verse, you were the shit. Now, not so much. Now I'm not hating on the legendary Mr. Green, but I just realized that he doesn't have the lung capacity for a full song anymore, thus, cue Timberlake. Funny how they introduced 4 different musical acts/artists for this performance, what a load that was. Keith Urban=on backup guitar (for 3 seconds on camera, amp not even plugged in) and Boys II Men? What? Whe...oh. The backup singers. Oh yeah, now I recognize the heavy one. That was a cruel trick you played on them, Grammys. But touche.<br /><br />Coldplay. They always announce Coldplay and then you see...Chris Martin. Yes, I know he's the lead singer, but what must the rest of the band think? "Ok guys, here we go, big Grammy moment! What? Wait here? Oh, they're not ready? Well what's wrong with the piano? Ok, hey guys, just one second, Chris has to fix something {piano begins} Doh! They got us again!" And Jay-Z? For a split second I thought there'd be an uncomfortable moment when Chris would gesture to a stage hand and someone would have to tell Jiggaman, "Yo, dude, you're not on yet. Stop rapping in the middle of Coldpl...er, I mean, Chris Martin's song." Shortly after the accidental rap solo, we finally see the band (their eyes are red, yes. You can see they've been crying...) in all their "Beatle's getup" glory (p.s. before C.M. apologized to Sir McC. for the ripoff of Sgt. Pepper's, I noted the similarity. Just for the record). Oh Chris, sweetie, no. Gwyneth and the Queen may like your exposed, furry happy trail, but we as Americans don't. And we as Americans know all so pull down your shirt--no, come on--further! Good British lad. Thank you.<br /><br />Keith "I married up" Urban. Look, Nicole, he's dressed and sober! That's all I really have for him.<br />Donia: "He's British!?"<br />Leah: "He's Australian. Boy, you really have a hard time with that one*, don't you?"<br />*she's infamous for mixing up the accents.<br /><br />Carrie Underwood is revealed and what do we see? Another beautiful flowing dress, legs I'd give my right arm for (but then, what good would the legs do me?), and perfect "just jumped off the back of my hot boyfriend's motorcycle after our hot sex" hair. And what is this? She's singing a song about being slutty. Check and check.<br />Nash: "She's the cat's meow, mommy"<br />Leah: "Keep it in your pants, little one"<br />Oh and p.s., Carrie: Watch out for the low-Grammy-cam-upskirt shot. All the men sure are {wink}.<br /><br />Here's one for you, mom. SUGARLAND WINS! I know you like them so congrats. I heard the 10 sec clip of their song and I may be teary-eyed. Wait, no...just salsa in my eye. So close...<br /><br />Song of the Year: Wow! This is like the second award in like, 45 minutes! Just barrelin through, aren't we?! I'm rooting for Jason Mraz cuz he's the only one who sat down and wrote his song all by himself. Wait for it, wait for it...Coldplay! Surprise fucking* surprise.<br />*It's for reasons like this that I graced you with the Sugarland shoutout, ma.<br /><br />Kid Rock comes out in all his trailer park glory and I am about to trash him, still wanna, but I can't help but love the politically charged lyrics of the song "Amen". Guess I can always count on him for blunt honesty {cue mugshot pic}. Oh, I spoke too soon, here's the trashtastic "Sweet Home Alamama" knockoff shit. Like clockwork.<br />Donia: "Remember when he first came out, I thought he was some trashy old guy"<br />Leah: "He was. He still is."<br /><br />Taylor and Miley sit stool to stool on the middle stage. They perform a song about how hard it is to be "15". Hm, Miley, you must have left out how hard it is to be 15 and not have sexy pics of you leaked by your fake boyfriends that your dad allows down in your room because you're way too famous for supervision. And Tay, you forgot the verse about how hard it was to have that plastic surgery performed by magical elves to make you go from your real age of 35 to 15. My interpretation of this performance is that they are like the angel and the devil doing a duet; only the devil is a pretentious cocktease and the angel has no life behind her dead, heavily made-up eyes.<br /><br />Robert Plante? Or is that Willy Wonka in leather and heavy metal rockstar curls?<br />{scratches head}<br /><br />J. Hud again. Fitting song. Refuse to mock her wardrobe choice in any way for fear of Hell.<br /><br />AAAAAAuuuuuugggggggggggggHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! {high pitched scream, of course} THE JOOOOONAAASSSS BROTHHHEEEEERRRS! AAAAAUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHH {frightened pitch this time} STEVIEEEEEE WONDERRRR! Wait, what? What have you done, Grammys? The man has written hundreds of songs over the last 40 years of a magnificent career and he just uttered the chorus to "Burnin Up"?<br /><br />{sly laugh} Genius.<br /><br />In an off-color sidenote: Joe Jonas {aka "the cute one"} was overheard saying (of Mr. Wonder) to his brothers {aka "the other cute one" and "the less than stellar" one}, "Yeah, he's pretty cool, but he looks like a total douche trying to pull off the whole I'm-so-cool-in-sunglasses-indoors thing. That's so 2008".<br /><br />Coldplay AGAIN! I can't decide on their new name: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band of Hobo Gay Men or just Teletubbies 2.<br /><br />Katy Perry...let me tell you who's not proud right about now: her parents, her pastor, her singing coach, her stylist (whom she deceived when she went behind his back to wear fruit), lesbians, her hair stylist, me. She is awful at performing, as evident by the senseless jumping and mediocre-at-best dancing. Fruit, sticky, sweet, we get it. You're a whore. Who <em>is</em> proud right now? The Grammys (though they should'nt be) and her ex bf (for taking out the trash when he did).<br /><br />Kanye and Estelle come out, middle stage again, and perform their not awful/not great hit "American Boy". I thought she was fantastic, and well, you can't really mess up rapping as long as you're 30% sober, so he was good too. What was not good? Her paper mache dress and well, if I have to say this then you're a dumbass: Kanye's whole <em>being</em>. Get a side by side clip of Kanye tonight and Michael Jackson at the Grammys circa 1984 and you'll have to look for Michael's discolored skin patches to tell them apart. Does this mean that in 20 years Kanye will be accused of and tried for child molestation??!! HIStory repeats itself (and is also one of my fav MJ albums).<br /><br />"Hey Kanye, Michael called. He wants his clothes and hair back so he doesn't have to run around in jammie pants and a surgical mask anymore. Oh, sorry, I didn't know you purchased those at the Neverland Ranch estate sale along with Bubbles and the llama. We were wondering where those two ran off too..."<br /><br />Morgan Freeman comes out and says he's friends with Kenny Chesney. I have to break it to you that THERE IS NO WAY THEY ARE FRIENDS, that's just what the teleprompter said.<br /><br />***Country performance=bathroom break.***<br /><br />Oh Lord Jesus, no. Herbie Hancock is back!<br />Ooh, no performance. Close call.<br /><br />I wonder if Queen Latifah cried a little bit inside when she had to say "The Rap Pack" so convincingly. She's classy enough to know that it was STUPID, I just know she is (she was in "Chicago" for Christ's sake! And that cancels out "Taxi" and "Bringin Down the House", trust me). I also wonder if Sammy, Dean, Frank and the other guy all turned over in their graves when such a comparison was made. I know I did (what?)<br />So let's analyze this ensemble cast of characters, shall we?<br /><br />M.I.A.: Really, M.I.A., really? Today is your due date, yet you insist on running around, girating your birthing hips, and squatting with your legs open in gangsta stance, or as I call it, "Holy shit, the baby's gonna fall out!" stance. And you get up there with these clowns? I love em all, but they're clowns in the sense that none of them like to get dirty and I guarantee none of them were even in the same state as their baby mommas when they were poppin out slimy, amniotic fluid covered kids. They will run screaming should your water break, and you'll be left to your own devices, as well as the devices of the front row of screaming preteen Hannah Montana fans. Good luck. Oh, and because you're so maternally disabled right now, I won't mentioned that just before you turned around to welcome the guys in, you lipsynced the wrong verse to your song. Mums the word. {wink}<br /><br />"Hey Kanye, yeah, Michael called back. Since you won't be returning his things, he's like to know if you would serve as his decoy when he's out in public to hide his withering face from the paparazzi, babysit his kids (they'll never know the difference, we'll say you have a "tan"), and/or play him in a new biopic about his life. Or, should I say a biopic he wrote leaving out all the weird stuff and making him look really cool still. Just have your agent call my agent".<br />I think I heard Kanye throw a straight up hissy about how he wanted to do his part alone on stage while the other guys waited in the wings. Doesn't like to share anything, that one...<br /><br />Lil Wayne: Our first sight of him tonight, and you know I'm gonna be biased, but he was the best rapper and the cutest dressed. And the prettiest and the shiniest and he smelled the best. And he was the highest, with the most warrants in the most states. I <3 him.<br /><br />T.I.: not a huge fan, not so impressed with his performance, and definitely not impressed with the fact that he couldn't even get his momma to do up his bowtie (sorry, Donia)<br /><br />Jay-Z: Now it's your turn, man. Next time, listen closer to your wife when she's barking orders at you. She didn't say GO! she said NO! Don't make Beyonce beat you!*<br /><br />One last thing, do you think these guys were as freaked out about M.I.A.'s bumble bee outfit as the rest of the audience? Silly brits and their silly outfits. Yes, Coldplay, I'm still looking at you...<br /><br />Beautiful beautiful Kate Beckinsale, what I wouldn't give to look like you for a day. Oh, wait, nevermind. What was the hike you just did to your falling down dress. It's the same mindless hike up you see a drunk promgoer do to her dress when her strapless bra is making its way down to her waist because she's so sweaty from the ecstasy and the dancing with the hormone-riddled boys. Classy. Next time, risk the wardrobe malfunction and wait til you get backstage.<br /><br />Next, Sir Paul McCartney {said in my best British accent} comes out with Dave Grohl. Now let me ask you this: is S.P.McC. really amazing, or is he amazing because he is the only Beatle left standing (I know, I know, but Ringo doesn't count). I'll let you chew on that for a little while.<br />And in other news, I miss Nirvana.<br /><br />Hey, look at this, another award, this time for Best Male Pop Vocal. This one goes to JOHN MAYER, who I not only love for his music, but his humor and wit. (Youtube "John Mayer and Ellen sing Just Dance. Hi-larious!). I'd like to thank Bailey for turning me on to John way back when I was so against him. And for the free tickets to his concert. I'd also like to thank God for letting John be born, and to Jen Aniston who keeps him in line and sexed up, so as his fans may enjoy him all the more.<br /><br />Sugarland and Adele did a dual performance, which meant Sugarland got their own spot for a full song, and Adele got to sing the chorus to her song and have Sugar (of Sugarland) sing backup. Aaaah, there's just too many "Amy Winehouse, but fatter" jokes, so little time.<br /><br />**At this point I see that only J.T./T.I., Robert Plante and Alison Krauss, Radiohead and Neil Diamond are left to perform. Besides the first one, I'm finding it hard to hang on here. I've endured many hours of these shenanigans at this point, and they certainly didn't seem to save the best for last. I can't quit now, though, not when I owe it to my 3 fans to write them a complete blog, and not when I owe to myself for enduring such painful TV. I've put blood, sweat, and tears into this (srsly, though, I did. I got a papercut taking the original blog notes, Donia turned the heat WAY too high up, and, well, you remember the salsa incident.). I will press on...<br /><br />Radiohead: I just don't get them. I mean, did I miss the window on them or something? I've always wished I was a fan, but I really don't see what people see in them. At this point I figure you can't teach an old dog new tricks. I am the dog; Radiohead is the "Roll over" I'll never get...<br /><br />**NEWSFLASH: It was just speculated that Lil Wayne will come out and perform again! I knew one performance couldn't be it, he was just too good this year. I won't get my hopes up too much, though; this show has been going on a long time now. He had to have taken a smoke break by now, and depending on how much he ingested, he may forget to rap at all. I foresee him sitting in the middle of the stage, staring at his shiny shoes, an awkward silence in the crowd while he's dragged offstage by security. All the while giggling...<br /><br />J.T.: If you propose to me, I promise, like the song says, "the old me will be dead and gone", and we can live a life of happiness and sex(yback) in your big mansion.<br />T.I.: If you propose, I promise to say yes strictly based on fear. I know about the gun charges...<br /><br />Of course Obama has a Grammy. Why wouldn't he? All you musicians out there bust your asses for a lifetime in the hopes of receiving an esteemed award, and all he has to do is waltz in and SPEAK NORMALLY and he wins. He probably didn't even write the speech he read. Malia did. I guess it's a sectet shout-out to all those rappers in the audience who single handedly got him elected. No, really, they did. Just ask Diddy yourself.<br />So now little douchybag Grammy man goes on to say "Yes We Can" 5 times in his poorly written speech. The context that it is used not only is ridiculous, it is irrelevant to the show, and life. If he had any pride he'd go out back and shoot himself for the fool he has made of the Grammys at<br />large.<br />But before he offs himself, he pleads to Obama (who must owe him, he gave him a Grammy, afterall) to appoint a Secretary of the Arts. A what? Fine, I'm on board, but if the nominee is not Suge Knight, with Elton John as his successor when he f's up and kills someone (again), then I'm not voting.<br /><br />Smokey Robinson? Again? Didn't I rant about him and his unnecessary presence last year. Just refer to that if necessary.<br /><br /><br />Now they're really reaching! Ne-Yo, Jamie Foxx, Smokey and the only living original member of the 4 Tops? This guy does look like he's having the time of his life, but unfortunately he has no idea who these 2 "youngins" next to him are. He also has no idea why that guy that looks like his old friend Smokey Robinson also sort of looks like he's undergone too many cosmetic surgery procedures for his own good. Maybe that's cuz he has, old fella.... I was happy to see him having a good time, though, and I hope it made him think of his other 3 Tops...<br /><br />Neil Diamond, sir, though I love rockin out to your biggest hits at hole-in-the-wall bars, you're losin steam. I appreciate all you've done for rock and roll, and for the young boys in the 70's who lost their virginity to your songs, but it may be time to buy a ranch and feed your horses and chickens now. This brings me to an idea I have for idiot-head Grammy guy: an oldie after-party. It will be only a half hour long, serve punch and antacids, and the performer will sing "im a little teapot" cuz its a short song and its easy to remember the lyrics. And hey, if Hef decides he'd like to throw it, it could be sponsored by Viagra and there could be free samples at every place setting. Sorry, Bono, you've been bumped to this party starting now. I'm putting you between Herbie and Stevie.<br /><br />**Now it's 11 and I'm really dwindling. According to my calculations, Weezy is all that's left. Did we even see a half a dozen awards given away? I mean, I love the performances, but come on now...8 of them could have been cut out (thus starting the oldies after party earlier and extending it another 45 minutes, ooh!) and it would have been a good show still.<br /><br /><br /><br />Here he is, the moment I've been waiting for. And though I'm glad he's not doing "Mrs. Officer", and sad he's not doing "A-Milli", I enjoyed this performance so much! I knew he couldn't just have one verse of performance in this whole show! Too good. The song he is doing is a tribute to New Orleans, and I'm sure the negotiations for this performance went something like this:<br /><strong>Genius Grammy Coordinators</strong>: "So, we're thinking edgy, hip, gansta, girls with booties and guys in bandanas throwin up gang signs.<br /><strong>Wayne</strong>: "No. New Orleans tribute."<br /><strong>GGC</strong>: "You know, Mr. Weezy, sir, that's not really the direction we were go..."<br /><strong>Wayne</strong>:" New Orleans. Or nothing".<br /><strong>GGC</strong>: {nervous laughter} "Well you know, contractually you have to appear..."<br /><strong>Wayne</strong>: " New Orleans, Robin Thicke, Alan Tucson, and a 5 man N.O. jumbalaya band, or else I don't give up my gun at security. <em>Again</em>."<br /><strong>GGC</strong>: "New Orleans it is."<br />{pistol whips them with his gun anyway, for good measure}<br /><br /><br /><br />As we give out the second to last (4th?) Grammy of the night, we see that our presenters are Will.I.Am and T-Pain, who apparently decided before they came out to play the game "Let's see who can dress more ridiculous!!??" Congrats, guys, you both win. An Old Navy gift card. Now run along and buy something presentable.<br />They announce the winner for best rap album and let me tell you, I'll admit that was a tough category. No one's album sucked. But of course, the best man-boy (Wayne) won and ran out from backstage to receive his award, while his entire family simultaneously rushed the stage to stand next to him. He hugged his daughter, who is not only already almost the same height as him at 10, but they're in the same grade in school. He was adorable and excited and kept it short and sweet. Just what I like to see at damn 11:00 at night! {Man, this never ends!}<br /><br /><br /><br />G-damn all that is holy, I forgot about a performance by Robert Plante and Ms. Krauss! F this stupid G-d forsaken night! I'm definitely napping during this...<br /><span style="font-size:180%;">zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</span><span style="font-size:130%;">zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</span>zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz<span style="font-size:78%;">zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</span>zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz<br />Am I DREAMING!!?? Is that Green Day?? Why can't I wake up right now??!! This is a nightmare because they're not performing a track from Dookie! I also dreamed that Album of the Year went to Alison and Robert and not my boy. And he was so frightening and she had such a freakishly small waist! My God, this is the worst dream EVER!<br /><br />SHIT. It's all real. The whole night has been real. What is my life coming to?<br /><br />This night is crap and so are these awards. <span style="font-size:130%;">Wayne, get your gun... </span><br /><br /><br /><br />************************************************************************************<br />P.s. Stevie, we don't need you to close us out with a song. You may not know it, but people filed out of here like it was on fire. No, it's not on fire, you're safe, but you need to get to the oldies party before all the easy-to-eat pureed food is gone. Hurry!<br />************************************************************************************<br /><br />I'd like to thank my sponsors (my mom, myspace, and, when my status is updated, Facebook) and all those who had not much else to do and read this for the pure amusement of saying "So this girl I know/used to know, she <em>blogs</em>! Yeah, I know, what a loser, right!"<br /><br />Goodnight.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-9532363729914984452009-01-20T19:31:00.000-08:002009-01-29T19:31:54.895-08:00Happy Day in America<p class="blogSubject"><br /> </p> <!--- blog body ---> <p class="blogContent"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Good morning.<span style=""> </span>Here’s your step-by-step Inauguration coverage through the eyes of a girl who is looking forward to seeing Obama’s speech, Oprah’s tears, and “Sasha Fierce’s” performance.<span style=""> </span>I may be on West Coast time, but I am on East Coast coffee…thanks Livi.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">.. ..</p> <p class="MsoNormal">7:31a: I’m up, against my will, cuz I love to sleep.<span style=""> </span>It’s Inauguration Day!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:00a: The cavalcade, so fun to watch the peeps scream like mad, as if the Jonas Bros. were walking by.<span style=""> </span>Those cars are indestructible, which at this point seems very necessary, given who is in the car (the new and old presidents).</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:04a: Bunch of guys filing in.<span style=""> </span>Also some women.<span style=""> </span>If I’m being honest, I don’t know half these people.<span style=""> </span>I am still a newbie as far as politics.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:12a: Cicily Tyson= little bit crazy.<span style=""> </span>Oh yeah, this blog will focus on history, but will no less be sprinkled with celebrity sightings.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:14a: Biden’s mom looks like she’s giving those Marines that are seating her quite a hard time.<span style=""> </span>She’s prob demanding a better seat and some hard candies.<span style=""> </span>Speaking of oldies, older Bush looks ridic in purple and day-glo yellow.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:19a: Jimmy Carter, cute as a button.<span style=""> </span>Awww, they had to skip over the 40<sup>th</sup> president.<span style=""> </span>May he rest in peace.<span style=""> </span>They coulda let his wife come out for God’s sake!<span style=""> </span>41<sup>st</sup>: oldie Bush.<span style=""> </span>Someone made him cover that turtleneck, thank God.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:21a: Clinton!!!<span style=""> </span>Poor Hilary, what a trooper.<span style=""> </span>Jeez, people are going crazy for her!<span style=""> </span>She’s doing that smile and “Hey!” thing as she points to those she knows, or pretends to remember. “Hey you! Call me!”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:23a: Bush’s skanky daughters.<span style=""> </span>Ok, maybe just the unmarried one.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:24a: Haha, the movers are there as we speak!<span style=""> </span>Can I just say that that’s the second time that Katie Couric has mentioned Obama’s underwear…</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:25: Sasha and Malia!<span style=""> </span>Sassy…better dressed than I’ll ever be.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:26a: Laura Bush bought a house in Texas for her and George.<span style=""> </span>He’s never seen it.<span style=""> </span>He just has to get on a plane and walk through the front door. Kinda like his presidency, minus the bad decisions and idiotic speeches.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:28a: Laura Bush=not a MILF.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:29a: I’m nervous for Bush to come out.<span style=""> </span>Will they cheer or boo?<span style=""> </span>I do feel badly for him…let’s stay tuned.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:30a: Michelle is out and hugging lots.<span style=""> </span>I’d hate being first lady, that’s for sure!<span style=""> </span>So pretty.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:35a: Cheney in the wheelchair.<span style=""> </span>Katie firstly said he strained his groin, now she says his back.<span style=""> </span>Get your mind out of the gutter Katie!!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:36: HERE HE COMES! Bushy I mean.<span style=""> </span>Hmmmm, I think I hear 3 individual claps.<span style=""> </span>Sad.<span style=""> </span>He looks sad.<span style=""> </span>Now I’m sad. Thanks for bringing me down again, Mr. President (Mr. P. for <span style=""> </span>5 more minutes!)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:38a: Lots of stylish scarves today!<span style=""> </span>Is this the Inauguration or a Mark Jacob’s runway show?</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:39a: ok , here he comes!!!!!!!!!<span style=""> </span>Joe Biden gets a rousing welcome…and now…the doors close.<span style=""> </span>It’s like he’s the bride coming down.<span style=""> </span>Oh my God this is so exciting! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:40a: He looks so scared, and proud.<span style=""> </span>Lots of cheers of course! Yayayayayayaya! O-BA-MA chants!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:45a: Why don’t the bulletproof walls look high enough to protect??!!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:48a: Speech one over.<span style=""> </span>Uh-oh here comes Rick Warren.<span style=""> </span>No good, Obams.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:50a: “You are loving to everyone you have made”. <span style=""> </span>Wow, he paused for applause during his prayer.<span style=""> </span>Doesn’t seem right.<span style=""> </span>Long prayer=Obama and Biden putting their heads up peeking during prayer.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>The Lord’s Prayer, for those Catholics out there.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:53: Aretha “biggest boobs I’ve ever seen, biggest ugly hat I’ve ever seen, can’t understand a word she sings” Franklin.<span style=""> </span>Now’s the time for a bathroom break.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">8:57a: Joe Biden is the first Catholic VP EVER??!!<span style=""> </span>That doesn’t seem possible.<span style=""> </span>Anyway, he has been sworn in.<span style=""> </span>Sidenote: Biden’s teeth are worth more than my life.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:00a: Yo-Yo Ma and friends play instruments.<span style=""> </span>I’ve really got nothing else on that one.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:01a: They just showed a clip of L.A., then Chicago, and wouldn’t you know it, the same crowd was there!<span style=""> </span>Either they have special powers like Jumper, or some dumbass as CBS is getting fired right now for f’ing up the Inauguration.<span style=""> </span>Awww, a little boy in a Chicago school just saw that he was on TV and didn’t know what to do with himself.<span style=""> </span>Precious!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:05a: President Bush’s term just ended at 12, and only Biden has been sworn in, making him president for 5 minutes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:06a: Obama is messing up his oath!<span style=""> </span>So cute!<span style=""> </span>AND HE’S PRESIDENT! HE’S PRESIDENT! </p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:07a: The speech begins…”Extend opportunity to every willing heart…” I like it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:17a: “Our power doesn’t protect us, nor does it allow us to do as we please”.<span style=""> </span>He should have looked AT Bush when he said that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:20a: “The old hatreds will someday pass…your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you have destroyed…we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist…”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:22a: Kindness, selflessness, courage, willingness, fairness, tolerance, loyalty, patriotism.<span style=""> </span>These are the things he wants from us.<span style=""> </span>Will we follow through, or will we continue to live our own personal agendas? <span style=""> </span>He cannot do this alone, don’t forget that.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:24a: “A man, whose father would not have been served in a restaurant a mere 60 years ago, can now take this sacred oath…” His black reference.<span style=""> </span>Well said and well received.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:26a: Speech ends. Crowd goes wild!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:29a: Elizabeth Andrews, poet.<span style=""> </span>Good poem, but a robot would have read it more eloquently.<span style=""> </span>This is no poetry slam, but she needs more passion in her words!</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:32a: Rev. Dr. Joseph Lowery, older than the Lord himself.<span style=""> </span>Shit, I just realized he was praying. {bows head}</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:35a: {peeks, impatiently}</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:37a: He’s got jokes! “Black wont be asked to move back, brown will be able to stick around, yellow will be mellow, the red man will get ahead man, and white will do whats right.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:40a: It’s over.<span style=""> </span>They will now go eat on plates that resemble Lincoln’s china pattern.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:43a: Now we come to the commentary by all of these newscasters that have opinions.<span style=""> </span>I hate this after sports games and I hate it now.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:46a: Matthew Bodean, apparently an actor.<span style=""> </span>This is the extent of celebrities.<span style=""> </span>Crap.<span style=""> </span>Beyonce apparently performed the other night.<span style=""> </span>I’m days too late for the Hollywood Glamour.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:50a: The Bushes board a helicopter.<span style=""> </span>That’s it, it is over.<span style=""> </span>He’s going on with the rest of his non-presidential life now.<span style=""> </span>“What do you think he will do with all of his time?” “Well, all of us close to him are thinking of getting unlisted numbers because we think he’ll have a lot of time on his hands!” hahaha cute.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:54a: Bush waves goodbye to the nation.<span style=""> </span>Bittersweet.<span style=""> </span>He’s still a human, you have to feel for him on some level.<span style=""> </span>Kinda rude of the newscaster to butt in and say, “…no more m & m’s served in bowls…” while the others said “No more Camp David, no more Oval Office, no more Air Force One…”<span style=""> </span>Bad taste being subjective.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">9:57a: Bush flies away.<span style=""> </span>They still point out how bad he was and how some people are cheering the helicopter away.<span style=""> </span>Maybe not the time or place.<span style=""> </span>Maybe I’d feel differently if I were a different person.<span style=""> </span>Right now I think we need compassion though.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">.. ..</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Apparently there’s an Inaugural Parade.<span style=""> </span>Not sure I’m gonna cover that.<span style=""> </span>Stay tuned for your local news for continuing coverage…</p>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-74035324048692888892008-12-24T19:24:00.000-08:002009-01-29T19:30:58.340-08:00Sometimes you read things and feel sad for humankind; you are frightened for them, really.<p class="blogSubject"> Sometimes you read things and feel sad for humankind; you are frightened for them, really. </p> <!--- blog body ---> <p class="blogContent"> </p><p>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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p> </p> <p>************************************************************</p> <p>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. </p> <div class="comment-remix-meta"><a class="replyto" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Reply</a> - <a class="quote" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Quote</a></div> <div class="comment-info">by I Have a Thought on December 18th, 2008 at 11:15 am </div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4032"> <div class="gravatar">.. </div> <div class="comment-entry"> <p><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">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.</span></p> <p><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">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. </span> </p><div class="comment-remix-meta"><a class="replyto" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8="><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Reply</span></a><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"> - </span><a class="quote" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8="><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Quote</span></a></div> <div class="comment-info">by Denise Stafford on December 21st, 2008 at 4:53 pm </div></div> </div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4033"> <div class="gravatar">.. </div> <div class="comment-entry"> <p>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. </p><div class="comment-remix-meta"><a class="replyto" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Reply</a> - <a class="quote" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Quote</a></div> <div class="comment-info">by <a class="url" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vYnJhaW5jbG91ZHMud29yZHByZXNzLmNvbS8=" rel="external nofollow">goldstardyke</a> on December 21st, 2008 at 5:09 pm </div></div> </div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4034"> <div class="gravatar">.. </div> <div class="comment-entry"> <p><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">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. </span> </p><div class="comment-remix-meta"><a class="replyto" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8="><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Reply</span></a><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"> - </span><a class="quote" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8="><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Quote</span></a></div> <div class="comment-info">by <a class="url" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3Lmdvb2dsZS5jb20vZmlyZWZveA==" rel="external nofollow">name Denise Stafford</a> on December 21st, 2008 at 7:04 pm </div></div> </div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4036"> <div class="gravatar">.. </div> <div class="comment-entry"> <p>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. </p><div class="comment-remix-meta"><a class="replyto" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Reply</a> - <a class="quote" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Quote</a></div> <div class="comment-info">by <a class="url" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vYnJhaW5jbG91ZHMud29yZHByZXNzLmNvbS8=" rel="external nofollow">goldstardyke</a> on December 21st, 2008 at 7:57 pm </div></div> </div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4037"> <div class="gravatar">.. </div> <div class="comment-entry"> <p>Denise, I really hope you are a teenager, like myself. </p> <p>I can tolerate fellow teenagers saying things like that.. because sadly, many 16 year olds are close minded and ignorant of many things.</p> <p>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. </p> <p>"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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p><abbr><em>Em..s last blog post..<a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vZGFuY2VyaW5iYXJlZmVldC5ibG9nc3BvdC5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi9hYWFoLmh0bWw=" rel="nofollow" jquery1230107276358="2">aaah!</a> <a class="jTip" id="0" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3Lm15c3BhY2UuY29t" name="My CommentLuv Profile" jquery1230107276358="4"><img src="" alt="src="http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/wp-content/plugins/commentluv/images/littleheart.png"" /></a></em></abbr> </p><div class="comment-remix-meta"><a class="replyto" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Reply</a> - <a class="quote" gays="" reason="" they="" accepted="" some="" direct="" quote="" from="" extremely="" might="" become="" nauseated="" by="" actual="" physical="" things="" homosexuals="" however="" can="" guarantee="" heterosexuals="" feel="" this="" mainly="" because="" many="" heterosexual="" friends="" perfectly="" ok="" no="" one="" forcing="" accepting="" certain="" as="" it="" is="" obviously="" not="" if="" wish="" call="" yourself="" respectable="" hoped="" would="" have="" be="" capable="" of="" respecting="" other="" s="" see="" me="" verbally="" abusing="" telling="" what="" with="" individuals="" attracted="" disgusts="" i="" tell="" that="" you="" are="" so="" especially="" around="" the="" do="" us="" all="" a="" favor="" and="" pull="" together="" enough="" maturity="" to="" grow="" n=""><abbr><em>EmÂ..s last blog post..</em></abbr></a><em><a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3Lm15c3BhY2UuY29t" rel=".."nofollow.."">aaah!<../a><../em><../abbr>'); return false;" href="http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/2008/12/17/reflections-on-violence/comment-page-1/">Quote</a></em></div> <div class="comment-info"><em>by <a class="url" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vZGFuY2VyaW5iYXJlZmVldC5ibG9nc3BvdC5jb20v" rel="external nofollow">Em</a> on December 21st, 2008 at 8:24 pm </em></div></div> </div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4051"> <div class="gravatar"><em>.. </em></div> <div class="comment-entry"> <p><em><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">Dear Em and Goldstar,</span></em></p> <p><em><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">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. </span></em></p> <p><em><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">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.</span></em></p> <p><em><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">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.</span></em></p> <p><em><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 102);">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 </span> </em></p><div class="comment-remix-meta"><em><a class="replyto" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Reply</a> - <a class="quote" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vdGhlbGVzYmlhbmxpZmVzdHlsZS5jb20vMjAwOC8xMi8xNy9yZWZsZWN0aW9ucy1vbi12aW9sZW5jZS9jb21tZW50LXBhZ2UtMS8=">Quote</a></em></div> <div class="comment-info"><em>by <a class="url" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vaHR0cC8vd3d3Lmdvb2dsZS5jb20vZmlyZWZveA==" rel="external nofollow">name Denise Stafford</a> on December 23rd, 2008 at 9:55 am </em></div></div> </div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4052"> <div class="gravatar"><em>.. </em></div> <div class="comment-entry"> <p><em>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. </em></p> <p><em>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. </em></p> <p><em>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."</em></p> <p><em>************************************************************</em></p></div> <div class="clearfix"> <p><em>Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, Oh my God.<br />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.<br />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.)<br />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.<br />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.<br />Positive karma. </em></p></div></div> <div class="comment" id="comment-4053">(If this interests you, or sickens you, and you need to read more wonderful rebuttals, go to:<br /><a href="http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/2008/12/17/reflections-on-violence/comment-page-1/#comment-4059%3C/div%3E">http://thelesbianlifestyle.com/2008/12/17/reflections-on-violence/comment-page-1/#comment-4059</a></div>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-79257091302480234942008-12-18T19:23:00.000-08:002009-01-29T19:24:37.207-08:00QRSTVW is for Quite Right, Sorry TV Weatherman<span style="font-size:85%;"><p><span style="font-size:100%;">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 <em>felt</em> foolish. They passed us with what at first looked like pity, but if you looked closer it was actually freezing envy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">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 <em>this</em> 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.) </span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">So remind me to tell you guys some time about the story I told my boss about how Nash hates thunder...</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">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!</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">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! </span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">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. <span style="font-family:Wingdings;">J</span> </span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">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. </span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">(JK I love my fam/emotions/weepiness)</span></p><p><span style="font-size:100%;">Ok I gg navigate how I’m gonna get home. I’ve got a lotta hills to climb!!!!!!</span></p></span><p><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span></p>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-51067945940535586292008-11-25T19:22:00.000-08:002009-01-29T19:23:12.327-08:00C.R.E.A.M.<p class="blogSubject"><br /> </p> <!--- blog body ---> <p class="blogContent"> </p><p>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". <em>They are just things you should do as a human being! </em>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 <em>got out of their cars</em> 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...</p> <p>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...</p> <p>Has this blog become angry and political? </p> <p>I apologize.</p> <p>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*...</p> <p> </p> <p>*foreshadowing to where I will be living next...Check out Northampton, MA.</p> <p> </p> <p>xo and juicy turkeys (in 2 days--have some Rhody turkey for me!)</p> <p> </p>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-51878330520728717162008-11-05T19:21:00.000-08:002009-01-29T19:22:07.697-08:00President Obama<p class="blogSubject"><br /> </p> <!--- blog body ---> <p class="blogContent"> </p><p>It's done!</p> <p> </p> <h5><span style="font-size:7;color:#ff0000;">Obama is our president!!!</span></h5> <p> </p> <p>Holy shit!!!!!!!!</p>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-65661902539460600282008-11-04T19:20:00.000-08:002009-01-29T19:21:28.445-08:00Of course it’s about the election<p class="blogSubject"><br /> </p> <!--- blog body ---> So, 1: <span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:7;" >VOTE!!</span><br /><br />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...Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-18460501806491404322008-09-07T19:19:00.000-07:002009-01-29T19:20:18.044-08:00NFLove<!--- blog body ---> <p class="blogContent">Im up at 9:30. On a Sunday. Headed to a bar...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 <span style="font-style: italic;">white</span>.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...<br /><br />Ok, Im gonna <span style="text-decoration: underline;">try</span> to stop. Im gonna <span style="text-decoration: underline;">try</span> to have a good season and stop thinking about my misery.<br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Other things Im gonna "try" to do this season<br />(that may be easier than getting over the loss of dear Favre):</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Grow a penis<br />Qualify for the US Open next year<br />Shrink 7 inches<br />Make water into wine<br />Walk home to see my mom<br />Meet Michael Jackson. <span style="font-style: italic;">Black</span> Michael Jackson<br />Swim the English Channel<br />Solve a rubik's cube<br />Set a new world record for "Darkest Tan" on a human being. Ever.<br /></div><br />Wish me luck.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-68006901142934103932008-08-24T19:18:00.000-07:002009-01-29T19:19:06.261-08:00It hurts a lot<!--- blog body ---> <p class="blogContent"> </p><p>Here is a list of things that could occur that would be <em><strong>less</strong> awkward/horrifying</em> than seeing Favre in a Jets jersey on TV:</p> <p>1. Walking in on my parents in bed together. My DIVORCED parents!</p> <p>2. Walking out of the house accidentally without my clothes on.</p> <p>3. Tripping and falling in front of a group of people and smashing my face and having to run home bleeding.</p> <p>4. Watching an ex make out with my mom.</p> <p>5. Saying the wrong name in bed.</p> <p>6. Finding out I was adopted. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>8. Realizing you just got your period on "Wear white to work" day.</p> <p>9. Pooing yourself. Accidentally of course.</p> <p>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.</p>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-70399144656994433032008-08-23T19:15:00.000-07:002009-01-29T19:18:06.637-08:00You think kids are a lot of work......try 2 wayward, gluttonous chihuahuas!<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Long story short: the garbage sits on the deck all day.<br /><br />And because of my haste, I also left the door open.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />Heres where the mistakes continue...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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!<br />The worst part of this thing hasnt even happened yet...listen on...<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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)<br /><br />If there was a DCYF for dogs, Id be the poster-mom for bad pet owners.<br /><br />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...Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-23898341904161336122008-07-01T17:19:00.000-07:002008-07-01T17:37:19.031-07:00Gus's hangoverThese 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:<br /><br />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.<br />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". <br />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.<br />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... <br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />Havent we all...Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-66702376760216308422008-06-24T09:26:00.000-07:002008-06-24T09:45:39.419-07:00It'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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...<br />I woke up in a panic and dont know what happened.<br /><br />****Real life****<br />I guess you could say I worry about the state of our country right now.Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-27901622396799940302008-06-16T14:12:00.000-07:002008-06-17T10:47:45.160-07:00The King of (Soda) Pop<div align="center">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).<br />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 <em>asks me to turn it off!</em> (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...<br />Listening to MJ brings me back to a time in childhood when my jobs in life were to:<br />1. Go to school and pretend I didnt like Michael Jackson (Christian/Crazy school)<br />2. Play Barbie's with Audrey on the weekends<br />3. Listen to NKOTB, et.al.<br />4. Eat Little Debbie snacks.<br />5. Not swear<br />6. Build forts in the woods, play manhunt, and be sure to check in when the streetlights went on.<br /><br />those were the days...<br /><br />This has inspired my <strong>Top 10 Favorite MJ Songs Of All Time, according to Leah</strong>:<br /><br /><strong>10. Who Is It?</strong></div><div align="center">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.<br /><br /><strong>9. They Dont Care About Us</strong></div><div align="center"> 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. <em>Ill</em> always know the truth, though...<br /><br /><strong>8. Black or White</strong></div><div align="center"> 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.<br /><br /><strong>7. Jam</strong></div><div align="center"> 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.<br /><br /><strong>6. Say, Say, Say</strong></div><div align="center"> 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).<br /><br /><strong>5. Scream</strong></div><div align="center"> 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.<br /><br /><strong>4. Man In The Mirror</strong></div><div align="center"> 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.<br /><br /><strong>3. Remember the Time</strong></div><div align="center"> 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!).<br /><br /><strong>2. Dirty Diana</strong></div><div align="center"> 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 <em>actually</em> about later in life made it all the more edgy and cool.<br /><br /><strong>1. Smooth Criminal</strong></div><div align="left"> 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.<br />Another wish, that will never be granted, is that future generations know MJ for what he was, not what he is now.<br /><br />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.<br /><span style="font-size:180%;"> <span style="color:#ff0000;"> I.Am.There.</span></span> </div>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-68796821455827709902008-06-09T13:37:00.000-07:002008-06-09T13:58:29.629-07:00Is 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...<br /><br />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 <em>date</em> 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...<br /><br />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...Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-216147427278817278.post-18511963763355562882008-06-06T13:37:00.000-07:002008-06-06T14:38:49.320-07:00It was no George Clooney ER...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz63irD4aRxRJnGL9vjSludR1pL9IfxAslg_yewVRW-FqHeAOrBzIF0TwGwacBGrEFm6w0x8TXKf0tolPx8bv1c0pFs9Ir6TJ1UkpvA1OfH0RP4EpOBJM03DCt61dS3uV7ZRkFzyc7Onw/s1600-h/006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz63irD4aRxRJnGL9vjSludR1pL9IfxAslg_yewVRW-FqHeAOrBzIF0TwGwacBGrEFm6w0x8TXKf0tolPx8bv1c0pFs9Ir6TJ1UkpvA1OfH0RP4EpOBJM03DCt61dS3uV7ZRkFzyc7Onw/s320/006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208882714868952994" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEzmOcw3CIAwNe1l9W99TzV0GHGYD_2eiB8G_oC7HgVLasmCdw8GpGkCHeA_FHuhePR8hon6e64dxBEX2aNmkzvcKX9hksN_tjQqMzlkdl1RaLOdvCVyNkAtXpLnoVF4wGTqEKxTK4Pw/s1600-h/005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEzmOcw3CIAwNe1l9W99TzV0GHGYD_2eiB8G_oC7HgVLasmCdw8GpGkCHeA_FHuhePR8hon6e64dxBEX2aNmkzvcKX9hksN_tjQqMzlkdl1RaLOdvCVyNkAtXpLnoVF4wGTqEKxTK4Pw/s320/005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208882526712289602" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />It was a dark and stormy night. The wind was blowing and the sky was a frightening shade of grey...<br /><br />No, seriously, this is Seattle, it really was!<br /><br />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!"<br /><br />Fast forward <span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >10 MINUTES</span>. 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!)<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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...<br />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...<br /><br />*Wait, its my blog. I can do what I want. Ok, back to me...*<br /><br />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...*<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.)<br /><br />Were just thankful it didn't fall on her face or head, and that her battle scar will be mini.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">oh, and it got us a three day weekend...</span>Lady Thoughtshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11952198158361778698noreply@blogger.com0