Wobbly Bee Pen

I have a wobbly bee pen. Seriously. It's a black ball point pen encased in yellow wood with white polka dots. And on top is a wooden bee on a small spring, complete with spring feelers.

Normally it's qute cute, and rather annoying to try to write with. But my mom gave it to me and I can't bring myself to part with it. Although it does write well, and I seem to lose any and all "normal" pens that come across my desk, but the wobbly bee pen endures...sortof like Cher, and some really bad disco songs I won't mention.

I only bring up the bee pen because at the moment I am fighting a MASSIVE migraine (I've taken 2 midrin and 4 Excedrin Migraines and it's still here, I think sleep is the only thing that's going to make it quit), and I found the bee pen while talking to Erika online. Now, it seems to be a source of great entertainment because my head feels like 100lbs and is giving me a high-like feeling. So, wobbling the bee on the top of the pen is hilarious!

I probably look a little like a fat 4 year old on crack, waving a yellow bee pen in front of my face, but for now I'm entertained.

Aplicants Please...

Ok, so I'm back and have a few things to talk about. However, I'm only going to talk about one today. The people who come to America and don't bother to learn English. Now, I'm not a racist and I don't care if you want to move here. I have no problem with people wanting freedom and they think (albeit somewhat falsely - at least until we have a better president, but that's another topic for another day) that comming here will provide them with that. America is a great place to live!

However, this morning while on my way home from the doctor's office, after having been stripped of my bandages, I heard a commercial on the radio that concerned me. It was a commercial for some kind of "mystery shopper" job. And they actually felt the need to say "must be able to read and write English..." and I was stunned. Have I moved to another country without my knowledge?

My biggest point is this, I wouldn't move to say Germany and expect everyone to speak English, I would learn German. So why the hell would you move to America and not bother to learn English? I understand that some people just got here and havn't had the time, but it seems that there's always that (forgive my stereotype) store owner or shop keeper that has lived here for 12-20 years and still doesn't speak English!

Now, I'm all for people who are bi-tri-or even quad-lingual (or whatever it's called when you speak more than 3 languages) and I applaud them. I think that that's a great way to live you life. You can communicate with several different cultures. And, I don't even care if you do speak English and you prefer to speak whatever language you want in public, just as long as you can understand me when I'm talking to you, and vice versa.

The biggest problem is the American Dream is dead. People don't come here to live the American dream any more. People come here because they can get away with shit, and make more money than they can in their home country. Like I said before, I have no problem with immigrants. But PLEASE if you're going to come live here, learn the fucking language!

Holy Gall Stones Bat-Man!

Saturday night started out great! I got a REALLY cool painting for my friend Alice for her new house, from my friend Collin. And, Leo and I got to watch Kung Fu Hustle with Erika and Collin.

We made it home about 11 or so, and about 12 the pain started. Figuring it was just gas (I've had this pain before but it went away in about an hour or so) I took just about every over the counter medication I could get down. While rithing in pain on the couch the floor the bed I was unable to fall asleep, or even come close. So finally at 6am (after 6 hours of agony) I finally woke Leo up and made him take me to the hospital.

By the time I had gotten there I had been breaking out into cold and hot sweats and felt pretty nausious. They put me in a bed and stripped me down into a gown, before giving me the bad news. They took an ultra sound and confirmed that I did have gall stones and that my gall bladder should be removed eventually. But until then the doctor wanted me to basically go on a vegan diet over night.

Luckily (or unluckily depending on how you look at it) for me after he talked to the surgeon it was decided that I would have it removed immediately; since I had been in pain for at this point 9 hours. I am greatful for the morphine that I had gotten through my IV line earlier though. So, at this point I was transferred by ambulance to the Bremerton Harrison Hospital for my surgery.

I only waited about 3 hours or so for my surgery, and it was done that day. So it really was a whirlwind. And I'm home now, so it was incredibly fast. However, I am in a lot of pain, and if my fever continues to climb I'll probably be headed back to the hospital. They gave me Vicodin but it doesn't get rid of the pain, it just knocks me out.

Well, I'm off to pass out on the couch. I'll keep it updated whenever it's possible that I can make it out of bed/couch.

Do babies make you better?

I've been doing some thinking, mainly about people with babies cause so many of my friends (or people I know and knew) have babies. Now, just to be clear this does not pertain to my friend Erika who managed to stay pretty close to the person she was before she had her baby. But mainly this is for people out there in general who have babies, not any one person so don't read anything into it.

Does having a baby make you a better person than the rest of us without babies?

It seems lately that having a baby immediately rockets you into this "higher" status; because all of a sudden you've got someone else to care for who basically tries their damndest to bankrupt you before they leave the house in 18 years (if they even leave at all.) To be perfectly honest you could marry a man or woman who can do the same thing for you; and you don't have to go through 9 months of uncomfortableness and pain.

Sometimes I just feel like people with babies have this presence about them that somehow they're better than those of us without children. Because this woman got knocked up she's better than me, or the next person without a kid in tow. And it's not just the people with kids, a lot of times it's the people behind the checkout counter. People with kids seem to get treated better, depending on if the kid is being good and all that of corse. They just seem to give bigger smiles as if to say "wow, you did it, you popped a kid out!" Or something like that.

I don't know. I'm sure if I ever do decide that I want a kid in my life I'll understand more. Because I'm sure I'm going to get the inevitable "you just don't understand what it's like to have a child" speach from someone. I just don't understand why it would make you any better than the rest of society who opts out of that situation. I guess this is all fueled by the bombardment of pregnant lady advertisement I just can't seem to get away from (or so it seems.)

So for now, I suppose I'll just let it all roll off my back; and keep on livin life not having to look for a babysitter so I can go to the movies.


Don't eat your baby! It was just a blog!!

God Bless Nike

I never thought those words would leave my lips; or fingers in this case. But today while leafing through my new Glamour I came across this great ad. I just had to scan it into the comuter and share it with anyone who might happen to read this. It may be big, but it's a great ad!

Fund-raising for the Perpetually Lazy~ By Beth Quinn

I admire people who walk for charity. Entering a walk-a-thon seems more noble than just writing a check.

Not only do these folks raise money for a good cause, but they suffer in the process. The more bunions and blisters they acquire, the bigger their contribution and the more points they earn in heaven.

I wish I could be like them. But I'm not. I'm lazy.

I'm a lot more inclined to support a worthy cause if I don't have to engage in some kind of hardy physical activity to prove my generosity and good intentions. I'd rather lounge for charity than walk for it.

We need a "thon" for us lazy folks who would be perfectly happy to do something generous if it didn't involve moving briskly. We need a way to be heartfelt, thoughtful, inert slugs. That's why I propose a new fund-raising idea--the sin-a-thon. That's right. Sin for charity.

I figure that at least three of the Seven Deadly Sins would make perfect fund-raising activities: gluttony, sloth, and lust.

Gluttony. Forget about those hot-dog-eating contests. If you're going to engage in gluttony, go for gourmet.

Hold a Scampi-Aux-Echalotes-a-thon. By getting sponsors, the more you eat, the more money you raise for charity.

Or for those with a sweet tooth, instead of consuming six ordinary cream pies for your favorite cause, hold a Scarf-Down-Some-Creme-Brulee-a-thon.

Involve the whole family! It's a great opportunity to teach your kids some French words, even as you get fat for a good cause. You may end up flabby on the outside, but at least you won't lack character on the inside. Gooey gluttony never felt so glorious!

Sloth. Ideal for baby boomers who spent their college years staging sit-ins on American campuses.

This time, though, instead of taking over the college president's office and eating takeout pizza as a defiant expression of protest, hold a sit-in for charity!

Turn your languid lethargy into money-making idleness for those in need. Lounge in the park, stay in bed watching cartoons all weekend, curl up in the BarcaLounger for a week or two. Sponsors pay by the hour for your indolence.

Note: Sloth is not for amateurs. It can be dangerous for those accustomed to a more active lifestyle. If you participate in a sloth-a-thon, make sure you have a spotter with you at all times. And remember to turn yourself over once in a while!

Lust. While a lust-a-thon requires a little more energy than an eat-a-thon or a sloth-a-thon, the personal rewards can be greater.

The rules for this one are up to you. I would just offer the following inspirational tale, which I read about in a recent Ann Landers column:

A man wrote in to tell Ann that every time he and his wife engaged in lust, they put $10 in a jar. When they got enough money saved up, they took a trip. So far, they've been to Italy and Hawaii, and now they're working on a trip to Australia.

I'm not sure why he felt the need to tell Ann Landers about this, but I admire the couple's sensible handling of money, to say nothing of their perseverance and obvious fortitude. And I figure the same approach could be used in a lust-a-thon. The only difference is, the money goes to a worthy cause.

After all, as the old saying goes, charity begins at home.

The Relationship Between Fun and Happiness

I did not write this, however I think it is very true. And a very good read.

The Secret of True Happiness, by Dennis Prayer

I live in the land of Disney, Hollywood and year-round sun. You may think people in such a glamorous, fun-filled place are happier than others. If so, you have some mistaken ideas about the nature of happiness.

Many intelligent people still equate happiness with fun. The truth is that fun and happiness have little or nothing in common. Fun is what we experience DURING an act. Happiness is what we experience AFTER an act. It is a deeper, more abiding emotion. Going to an amusement park or ball game, watching a movie or TV, are fun activities that help us relax, temporarily forget our problems and maybe even laugh. But they do not bring happiness, because their positive effects end when the fun ends.

I have often thought that if Hollywood stars have a role to play, it is to teach us that happiness has nothing to do with fun. These rich, beautiful individuals have constant access to glamorous parties, fancy cars, expensive homes, everything that spells "happiness." But in memoir after memoir, celebrities reveal the unhappiness hidden beneath all their fun: depression, alcoholism, drug addition, broken marriages, troubled children, profound loneliness.

Yet people continue to believe that the next, more glamorous party, more expensive car, more luxurious vacation, fancier home will do what all the other parties, cars, vacations, homes have not been able to do.

The way people cling to the belief that a fun-filled, pain-free life equals happiness actually diminishes their chances of ever attaining real happiness.

If fun and pleasure are equated with happiness, then pain must be equated with unhappiness. But, in fact, the opposite is true: MORE TIMES THAN NOT, THINGS THAT LEAD TO HAPPINESS INVOLVE SOME PAIN.

As a result, many people avoid the very endeavors that are the source of true happiness. They fear the pain inevitably brought by such things as marriage, raising children, professional achievement, religious commitment, civic or charitable work, self-improvement.

Ask a bachelor why he resists marriage even though he finds dating to be less and less satisfying. If he's honest, he will tell you that he is afraid of making a commitment. For commitment is in fact quite painful. The single life is filled with fun, adventure, excitement. Marriage has such moments, but they are not its most distinguishing features. Similarly, couples who choose not to have children are deciding in favor of painless fun over painless happiness. They can dine out whenever they want.

Couples with infant children are lucky to get a whole night's sleep or a three-day vacation. I don't know any parent who would choose the word FUN to describe raising children.

But couples who decide not to have children never experience the pleasure of hugging them or tucking them into bed at night. They never know the joys of watching a child grow up or of playing with a grandchild.

Of course, I enjoy doing fun things. I like to play racquetball, joke with kids (and anybody else), and I probably have too many hobbies.
But these forms of fun do not contribute in any real way to my happiness.

More difficult endeavors--writing, raising children, creating a deep
relationship with my wife, trying to do good in the world--will bring me more happiness that can ever be found in fun, that least permanent of things.

Understanding and accepting that true happiness has nothing to do with fun is one of the most liberating realizations we can ever come to. It liberates time: now we can devote more hours to activities that can genuinely increase our happiness. It liberates money: buying that new car or those fancy clothes that will do nothing to increase our happiness now seems pointless. And, it liberates us from envy: we now understand that all those rich and glamorous people we were so sure are happy because they are always having so much fun actually may not be happy at all.

The moment we understand that fun does not bring happiness, we begin to lead our lives differently. The effect can be, quite literally,
life-transforming.

Get your high heel out of my uterus!

So while being nosy in Live Journal today I found this GREAT group post! Unfortunately you have to be a member to post there and they're closed to new members. BUT it's still a good read!

http://www.livejournal.com/community/sluts4choice/

I definately think that the people here need to send more letters to their "higher ups" because those guys are under the mistaken impression that we don't care as much about abortion rights as older women.

It scares the shit out of me to think that those rights could be taken away. Not because I need an abortion, or ever had one, or even ever might have one. It scares me because I think of the 14 year old girl who made a mistake, or the women who are raped, or the women who might die if they don't get one. Or the simple fact that it's my fucking body and I really don't want anyone telling me what I can and can't do with it.

I actually read an article in a big name magazine about how the pro-life/pro-choice battle is slowly headed toward pro-life. Now, that's scary shit. But the scarier part is the reason. The reason that it's headed that way is because "young" (mostly my age 23) women are #1. mis-informed- they don't think it can happen to them etc. & #2. they don't believe that it's necessacary with all the birth control options out there. Well, there may be a lot of birth control options out there, but they're not exactly cheap for women. Did you know that some insurance companies don't cover birth control for women? Or they do but only part way, so you're left footing a hefty bill?? It's simply not plausable for everyone.

I think we need to get a message across to the women who thing that it's ok to let someone tell you what to do with your body. We need to let them all know that we're not going to let them control our bodies, and our decisions. If we let them into our uterus what's next? Our right to vote, or even work? Because trust me, if they get control it's only a matter of time before they take it all away.

Maybe America is only the land of the free for men.

hhhHhhHHHhmmmMMMmmm...

Just bored, so something to keep me occupied. Sorry, no witty banter today.

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Your Life is Like Serendipity

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Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.



Which Survivor of the Impending Nuclear Apocalypse Are You?
A Rum and Monkey joint.


Are You Damned?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey


Which Colossal Death Robot Are You?
Brought to you by Rum and Monkey

Holier Than Thou...

Ever notice how people that are religious, I mean UBER religious, think that their religion is the ONLY one out there and everyone should convert? I can't stand people like that. My father-in-law happens to be one of those people about Catholocism.

If you really look at religion, and not really that hard either, you'd see that they're all basically the same damn thing. There is a God (of some sort) and he lives in "heaven". If you're good you get to go there. If you're bad there is a Devil (of some sort) and he lives in "hell"; if you're bad you get to go there.

But you know, all these people preaching that you should repent so you can go to heaven kindof scare me. I mean really, I don't want to go to heaven if it means that I have to hang out with those stupid fuckers.

Religion was basically invented (I believe) for 2 reasons. First, we as human beings can't fathom infinate space, time whatever. It's simply just too hard, and we don't have the mechanism in our brain to understand; or we do, but we just don't know how to use it. Second, it was invented to control people. And that's what it does to this very day. Those stupid people who blindly put their faith into whatever god they see fit, and then follow the people who preach the religion. This is how we got the assholes who bombed the Trade Centers.

I think it's time people opened up their own eyes and figured shit out for themselves.

mmMMMmmm Cake...

I LOVE this song, and I just thought I would share the love.

Cake: Short Skirt Long Jacket

I want a girl with a mind like a diamond
I want a girl who knows what's best
I want a girl with shoes that cut
And eyes that burn like cigarettes
I want a girl with the right allocation
Who's fast, and thorough, and sharp as a tack
She's playing with her jewelry, she's putting up her hair
She's touring the facility and picking up slack
I want a girl with a short skirt,
And a loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong jacket

I want a girl who gets up early
I want a girl who stays up late
I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity
Who uses a Machete to cut through red tape
With fingernails that shine like justice
And a voice that is dark like tinted glass
She is fast, thorough, and sharp as a tack
She's touring the facility and picking up slack
I want a girl with a short skirt,
And a long, long jacket

Nanananananananananananananananananananananananananananana

I want a girl with a smooth liquidation
I want a girl with good dividends
At Citi Bank we will meet accidentally
We'll start to talk when she borrows my pen
She wants a car with a cup holder arm rest
She wants a car that will get her there
She's changing her name from kiddy to Karen
She's trading her mg for a white Chrysler le barron
I want a girl with a short skirt,
And a
looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong
jacket

Nanananananananananananananananananananananananananananana

Fit or Fat?

I have to get this out to my post before I forget that I'm as mad about it as I am. I'm currently watching Oprah, mostly because there's nothing else on. But the topic today is people who say they're married to someone different than who they originally married. Basically big changes in marriage.

The first one I caught was a couple where the man actually became a woman. He was transgendered and became a fully functioning woman. They're still married and still in love; however livning in celebacy.

The one directly after that was the one that pissed me off. This guy is pissed off that his wife isn't ask skinny as she was when they got married. First off, this situation pales in comparison to the couple directly before them on the show. But second of all Oprah was actually defending this asshole! The woman is overweight, I'll give him that, but she's still very beautiful.

He actually said that it's every man's dream to be married to a skinny woman. I'm waiving the big bullshit flag on that one! My husband loves me no matter how big or small I get. And I think he should be the same way. I don't think he really loves her, and that's really the problem.

Unfortunately, it's all back to society. Women are prettier (in my opinion) with enough meat on their bones not to see their bones. And to be truthful, it's not the weight (on or off) that makes you beautiful; it's your confidence and your personality. As cliche as it sounds it really is true.

Confidence is key.

Fucking Sunshine

Ok, so I'm a bit cranky for several reasons I'm sure. I'm tired, I'm hot, probably a little bit of PMS, and I have a killer migraine. Buuutt I'm going to post something that is important to me, and something I get funny looks for all the time.

The fucking sunshine! I can't stand it! It's hot and it makes me sweatty and uncomfortable, and I just plain hate it. I really love the rain. It doesn't mean that I like it to be 10 degrees outside or anything, I just like it when it rains.

Usually when I tell people this I get a cross eyed puppy dog head cock and they ask me "why?" (Or they look at me like I've just turned purple and killed their puppy!) Well, why not? I'll tell you why not...People listen to the goddamn media to fucking much! They tell you that you're happy when it's sunny and you're sad when it's rainy. Bullshit!

When it's sunny I'm hot and sticky and uncomfortable and I just can't stand being that way, so I'm not happy. Especially since I'm not the type of person to wear skimpy nothing clothing, not just because I'm not quite built for it, but I don't need to run around in my bra and panties; or any variation therof.

So, why not like the rain? I logged on to one site where you actually had to vote (on what it was I can't remember) the good was a sunshine and the bad was a rain cloud. Society needs to grow some balls!

I've only met one other person (so far) that would actually admit to me that she liked the rain, and didn't like the sunshine. Alice, you fucking rock! I like it when people stick up for shit they believe in, be it something small like the rain or something big like the president. But it all really comes down to society I think.

So when you get a chance, ask yourself "do I really like the sunshine or do I just say I do because of society?" and then it'll probably get you started on other topics, more important topics like the president, and gay rights and so on. So, in conclusion I LOVE the rain, and society needs to wake the fuck up. Just because you don't like it doesn't mean it's bad.

Thoughts

This is something my mom sent me the other day. Insightful...

The only thing permanent is the soul.

I have borrowed some protein and minerals which were organized by samples from my parents. They also gave me some protected opportunities to integrate with the body and form some of my operating system kernel useful to perception and control in an unfamiliar environment.

I entered a game of development and survival. At the end of the game I have either destroyed my vehicle or worn it out. During the game I will learn to find truth, be obedient, take charge and yield to the benefit of others...

We are not just a spoonful of the cosmic mush, we were individuals from the beginning and will remain individuals forever. See you on the other side. (Felix L. Goodman) NewsScan Daily, Nov 10, 1999...