A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Let's Get Serious for a Moment, Shall We? 
In yet another instance of my being frightfully stupid and absent minded, I had to take Johan to the vet to get his little pig claws trimmed. I say that is evidence of my stupidity because why the hell didn't I have them trim his claws when I had him boarded during the power outage?

One of my favorite bloggers linked to this article, which I spent the morning reading before taking lord and master to the vet. I never really had a firm idea of where I stood on the death penalty. On the one hand, I think pedophiles should be killed by firing squad. I also think locking someone away for the rest of their lives is cruel. But then, how is killing someone considered justice? And quite frankly, who am I to determine who should live and who should die? If I were faced with the choice I think I'd take death over prison. But a) do you ever really know until you are faced with the actual decision? and b) what is good for the goose isn't always necessarily good for the gander. Now, however, after reading that article, I can say with firm conviction that I oppose the death penalty.

See, sometimes it isn't all guinea pigs and bitching about stuff. Sometimes, on some rare occasions, I do actually use my brain.  One last comment on that article; if you read it, you'll notice it is from 2009. Do you ever think about how much information is out there, how much literature, fiction, non-fiction, and just data is out there and how much you never see? Sometimes, when I'm in a book store, I look at all the books in the fiction section and wonder if each one will actually be read. Then I wonder what the sound of one hand clapping is and zone out...

Things Change and Stay the Same

I've always taken that sentiment for granted, just another meaningless cliche. And it is but it's also like "a stitch in time saves nine" and I finally understand it (embarrassingly, I think I was 19 when I finally understood a stitch in time etc.)

So, I have a new boss, which is the change, and it's occurred to me that I don't think he has a clear understanding of what it is I do, which is same old same old. He also keeps promising to get me help and talks about change but nothing happens. He's a good guy and he does actually communicate with me but I feel like he is moving too fast and not understanding that we can't just "make things happen" but that we need to do things like talk to the executives and examine the budget to see if we can make things happen. He's the new head of my division and, unfortunately for us, his primary concern is growing our division so we still don't have anyone who is primarily responsible for helping fix the problems with our existing clients.

So, you see, things change and stay the same.

Finally...

The Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes divorce was settled rather quickly. Am I the only one who is disappointed? That sounds cruel but celebrities make enough money for me to not feel guilty when I enjoy their gossip. I wasn't hoping for acrimony or anything, but I did want some scandal about Scientology and maybe some "is he really Suri's father" allegations. Instead all we get are joint statements about working together to be good parents and reassurances that Scientology had nothing to do with it.

Maybe I'm just bitter because it took them something like two weeks to get divorced and it has been a year since J and I separated and we are still married. Meh, I don't think so. If I was in a big damn hurry I could divorce him pretty quickly. I just can't be bothered.

Well, here's hoping that more will come out about Demi Moore's daughters not talking to her.

Hey, like I said, these people are millionaires. And besides, we all know that half of what is said isn't true (if not way more than half).

PS

Seriously? I just checked my stats and someone came across my blog after searching for "fuck mature anal gym". Wonder what they hoped to find.

I think you've had enough

Booya motherfuckers
I know you come here for exciting life updates such as "my hair smells dirty" and "my cubicle smells like pee" (make that exciting odor updates) but today I am going, nay must, change things up a bit. Wait! Come back! I promise it'll be worth your while! No, really, it will. Prepare to have your minds blown.

Today I found this campaign ad.

That's OK, I needed a few minutes after I first watched it too. This must be what it was like for Paul when he was converted. Before this day, when I thought "Ron Paul" I thought "terrifyingly crazy political ideals" and "thank goodness he is the Ralph Nader of the GOP." And then, there I was, listening to a broadcast of Morning Edition on NPR when this ad was referenced. Oh how I wanted to hear more! But my company blocks most web-sites (thank you very much Big Brother) so I was forced to wait until I got home to youtube it. And youtube it I did. Ron Paul isn't some crazy old man who is out of touch with reality! Why he's as hip as you and me! I mean, the ad is even referenced to as being "edgy." Stodgy politicians don't use words like "edgy"! And that part where the narrator says "later bureaucrats"? O. M. G. Nothing says young, cool, and with it like saying "later" instead of "goodbye."

Did you feel it too? I bet you did. And I bet it was life changing.

So, full disclosure, I'm a registered Libertarian myself. I actually consider myself to be a far left leaning Libertarian but that's because I haven't studied Socialism too in depth (and there is a good chance I might be a Socialist) and because I really do think Libertarianism is the way to go... in theory. In reality, however, I fully believe in government-funded programs for the elderly and poor and federal funding of public schools*. Ron Paul has some truly terrifying politics. Look him up kids**.

Sorry, what were you saying? I was too busy choking and crying

Have you ever had someone tell you a story when a seemingly insignificant detail strikes you as hilarious and so you end up laughing, hysterically, far harder and for far longer than is at all polite? That happened to me some time ago and the person involved sort of gave me permission to post it here so I thought, meh, why not? I'll delete it if it feels too "you had to have been there." In order to protect the innocent, I'm not going to reveal the name of the friend. Instead, I'll simply call him Shunter. There, total anonymity.

OK, so the very last time Shunter was in stown, we were having a discussion about something like broken bones or hospital trips. Who knows? Hospital trips and broken bones are usually discussed five or six times a day between friends, right? At any rate, we were talking about something that led Shunter to begin telling me about an accident he had when he was in his early twenties. He and a friend were riding motorcycles and somehow or another, Shunter's ended up going wonky, he tried to slow down to right it, and ended up wiping out tremendously. From what I understand, there was a lot of blood and a lot of skin removed from where skin had been previously***. This was in the olden days because Shunter was in his early twenties in, uhm, the late 80's**** and they didn't have cell phones. So, instead of calling for help, he and his friend had to wait for this lady who happened to drive by in her car to give them a ride to the hospital. Shunter was explaining his injuries when he got to the pesky little detail that started me off into a fit of laughter that was so long and so hysterical that I'm pretty sure he felt embarrassed.

His outfit.

Do you know what I remember about fashion in the 80's? Nothing. I was born in December 1980 and my memory doesn't begin until 1991 and, even then, is pretty blurry on the visuals. Shame on you people. Shame on those who were young adults in the 80's and shame on the parents of young children. What. The. Fuck? Do you know what Shunter was wearing when he wiped out on a motorcycle? A half shirt. That's right, I said it and it happened. He was wearing a fucking half shirt (now you can appreciate why I had to change his name). My man was wearing a half shirt, cut off denim shorts, and sneakers without socks. His hair as either feathered, which is what he told me when he first recounted the tale to me, or in a mullet, which he let slip today over instant messenger. Either way, he was looking, I don't know, gnarly? Is that what you people said in 1986-1989?

A mother fucking half shirt.

That was the first thing he told me about the outfit and I could not hold my shit together. When he reminded me of it today, out of the blue, I had my earphones in (listening to NPR and awaiting the miracle as described above) and so I sort of forgot that I was at work so I started laughing again, just a little too loud to have any chance of hiding it with a cough. But when I first learned about it, I started laughing so hard and so uncontrollably that the poor bastard couldn't even get the rest of the story out for a good five minutes.

And that is just one of the many reasons I love this good friend of mine. That and because he reminded me of the half shirt when we were talking about prostitutes but that, my friends, is for another time. After all, I've already given you the gifts of Ron Paul's awesome ad and a story that is probably only funny to me. I'm not a fucking endless well of gifts after all.

* There are too many idiots who say either "I don't have kids" or "my kids graduated" to explain why they are against tax payer dollars going to public schools for anyone to truly believe we'd be OK without the pesky government insisting that we contribute... and by we, I mean those who have to. Someone told me today that I don't because I don't have property tax.

**Then look up Newt Gingrich and read about how he thinks girls should be rewarded for graduating high school as virgins. I bet part of the reward would be having the President perform the test required to prove that you are virgo intacto. 

***Considering the context, my laughter seems fucked up now. 

****Numbers and I are not friends so I have to use a calculator most times, even for simple subtraction.

Ferraro

Geraldine Ferraro ran as the vice presidential nominee in 1984 when I was three years-old. She has died, at the age of 75 and when J and I spoke about it, he made a comment that essentially said "who cares that she ran for vice president? She lost. People don't care about who lost." When I realized that he was serious, I wanted to hit him. He went on to say that it only matters in this backwater country because other places have had female prime ministers and presidents and vice presidents for years. That did not make me feel better but simply made me angrier that he didn't think it mattered that this woman paved the way for other hopefuls and that her ground-breaking achievement in 1984 pointed out all too clearly how non-progressive our country is.

The world as a whole still does not treat women as equal citizens. We have come a long way but we are still second class. We do not have 100% control of our reproductive rights (men do), we still do not receive equal pay in the work-place, and our body parts are still considered items that must be shielded from both children and adults (Ohio recently passed a law to enforce the use of pasties in strip clubs... nipples are evil). Tits are to be covered and hidden in shame. Women in the locker room at my gym do all sorts of tricky maneuvers in order to undress and dress without showing any skin because we have had a lifetime to learn to be ashamed of our bodies.

And this is in the US, the land of opportunity. I'm not even outlining what it is like to be in a country under the rule of the Taliban or one under a religion that calls for women to cover up from head to toe and not be seen unaccompanied by a man. The US is so incredibly fortunate that it is appalling that we have not yet had a female president. Did I vote for Hillary Rodham-Clinton to run as the Democratic nominee during the last election? No. You know why? Because I felt it was more important for Democrats to win than to push the feminist agenda and I knew my country would vote for a black man before they would vote for <<shudder>> a woman. I was more concerned with not continuing under a Republican regime than with asking people to open their eyes and understand that my gender is competent, intelligent, and capable. It was a difficult choice.

That being said, it was a choice I am glad I had to make. And I thank Geraldine Ferraro for making it a choice I actually had to make.