Thursday, December 13, 2012

You're Not Listening!

Today's Christmas card take -- three.

Yep -- postcard style photo cards.

No personal message.

No signature.

No ink.

No glitter.

No ho ho ho.

Sigh.

The condoms of Christmas cards.

I'm starting to wonder if latex gloves are worn on the senders' Christmas card assembly lines.

I feel dirty and nonfestive.




Wednesday, December 12, 2012

The Damn Phone

That's what it is called it this household.  The Damn Phone.

When it rings, I ask, "Who's on The Damn Phone?'  Or, "Who's calling on The Damn Phone this time of night?"

For the love of Pete, I detest The Damn Phone.

People call you up on it to talk you into doing things you don't want to do.  Sometimes it's an out-of-towner wanting to drop off their child so they can get themselves a little afternoon delight.  Or a solicitor wanting some money.  Or gangs of solicitors wanting all of my money and then some.  How about a little (or a lot) of volunteering.  Or calls that begin with, "I hope you don't mind, but . . ."

And, of course, the worst.  Someone has died.

This morning, I have a lot to do.  A LOT TO DO.  I've got to clean my house out for the renters, and what the hell, I just better get it done before my mother-in-law arrives on the 21st.  That's a long way away you say? But I also have to pack and plan for the movers on the 18th.  But I can't turn on the vacuum until people return calls that I made earlier this morning.  I have important questions for the head of the school that my daughter will be attending in Charleston.  I have to know if the plumber is going to replace my kitchen faucet so the renters don't get flooded out the first moment they need a glass of water.

I hate it when I get my info. together and dial out on The Damn Phone, only to discover I've got to sit by The Damn Phone and wait to actually talk to a real person.  I usually make my husband dial out, but since he's on the road, I have to do it.

So that's it.  Just a little bit of bitching.  But inside I'm seething.  I have important shit to do.  And I better not find out that these folks I'm waiting on are just standing next to the coffee maker waiting to get themselves a cup.  Maybe they are just avoiding The Damn Phone.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Just One More Try

Each year, I do the Christmas Card post.  Sometimes I copy from the year before and leave it at that.  Other times I copy and edit and embellish.  This time, I'm just going to plead.

If I am on your Christmas Card list, I'm delighted.  Whether you are a friend, an acquaintance, or merely someone who has repaired my furnace or cleaned my teeth, it doesn't matter.  I love a card.  I like those cards to be cute, glittery, gorgeous, filled with confetti, festooned with ribbon, city stylized, kissing kousin kountry, red and green, blue and white, black and yellow, and decorated with Jesus, snowmen, zebras, angels, trees, RVs, balls, bells, and whistles.

I also will read your newsletter.  If you care to send me the long form, I will happily read it because, chances are, I care.  And I really like it when you tuck in a photo of your kids, your dogs or your vacation home.   Especially the kid.   If I like you, then I probably like your kid.  I even want to know if they've made the honor roll or graduated from braces and headgear.

Just please, please, please don't send that one-sided, unsigned, undecorated photo of your dog, kid, or vacation home that poses as a complete holiday card.  And when you print out the envelope on your computer and your housekeeper then stuffs all of the envelopes, I'm going to want to tell you to stuff it. Hell, I even get a little calendar from the dude at the local used car lot and my local realtor (I haven't purchased a house here in 15 years).  Put a bit of ink on the damn thing or don't send it.  I'd rather you send me a picture on facebook of your middle finger.  At least that's personal.

Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas
Happy Kwanzaa
Happy Chanukah
and so on

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

For the Love of Christ, Show Us Your Bling


A couple of months ago, I went with my family to New York City.  My husband was participating in a conference and my daughter and I were there to visit the zoo, shop, and see as much artwork as possible.  One outing involved what my daughter considered to be a long subway ride.  As I had already inflicted several trips by subway upon her (some involving incorrect stops resulting in more subway rides), my daughter was a bit tired by our third day of sightseeing and subway cruising.   After several people had exited at a busy stop, my daughter spotted two open seats near the door.  She was on her way to the closet seat when a twenty-something, able-bodied couple pushed in front of her to take the seats.  We have been to the city several times and are quite used to pushy people, but this time my daughter got just a bit of a quivery upper lip.

I shrugged and tried to tell her with my eyes that this was just what happens in the big city.  I also wanted to tell those seat-stealing folks how I felt about them with my eyes.   Instead of looking deep into the eyes of the worst offender (young, well-cut dude), my eyes were enchanted by the movement of something shiny.  Very shiny.  And very gold.  And large.  Yes, this dude was able-bodied enough to be able to bear the weight of a 6” crucifix.   Six inches might not seem like a great deal, but when it is a chunk of heavy swinging metal -- that’s a heck of a lot of cross to wear.  Especially for a man who did not ask himself, in front of a tired child, what would Jesus do?

I’m thinking that Jesus would stand while a child sat.  Jesus would be aware of his surroundings and would give a damn about the suffering of others, no matter how minor.  Jesus wouldn’t sprawl over two subway seats.  And I’m assuming this dude is wearing the cross because he is representing Jesus.  Could be he’s just making a fashion statement.  Whatever.  He’s an ass adorned with a cross.  A cross that is likely to take out the front teeth of anyone that is in swinging radius. 

We stand.  We ride.  We get off several stops later.

I begin to notice others wearing crosses.   While I see many, I’ve yet to see one quite as large.

I noticed three women at the hotel wearing crucifixes.  Smaller.  More discreet.  Yet somehow, just as disturbing as the dude’s.  Each one was inset with diamonds.  Did these women go into their local jeweler’s and say, “I’d like a diamond necklace.  No.  Wait.  I’d like a symbol of my Savior.   No.  Wait.  Can I combine the two?”  Or maybe these necklaces were gifts from their adoring husbands.  Did their husbands walk into the jewelry store and request a special something for their pious brides?  They certainly wore these pendants with pride.  The glint in their eyes seemed to say, “Look upon my chest.  There you will see my love for Christ.  I know I love him.  But I want YOU to know that I love the Lord.  I am a lamb of my Savior.  I also don’t give a shit about children mining for gold and diamonds in African countries.  They are not lambs of the Savior. I am blessed and those children can dig those freakin’ diamonds up for me.”

If you must show innocent bystanders that you are a Christian, forget the bling.  Get yourself two rough sticks of wood, lash them together with ragged twine or a bit of shoelace too small for a homeless person to use, and string that around your neck.  Make sure it’s pretty darn big.  And heavy.  You might also want to think about adding some nails and thorns for a bit of discomfort.  It would be a bit easier, and far less expensive, to go about doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.  And nearby children would not have to fear having their teeth knocked out.

Friday, August 10, 2012

Everything's Temporary

Almost two months since I've posted!

I guess one could say I'm temporarily away.

I've been artmaking and housewifeing.

I've been preparing for (and hiding from) some life-changing events.

My dad has been ill for quite a while and is now in and out of nursing homes and hospitals.  Hopefully he can recover enough to move on to an assisted living facility.  I'm thinking his attitude is not positive lately.  I'm not sure how I would feel if I were 85 and had lost my spouse of 60 years and my home of 50 years.

As for homes, when my husband and I moved to State College, PA, 15 years ago, he planted a (mental) flag and declared we would retire and die here.  As I said in my title, "everything's temporary." Announcements to come later.

Hopefully, I will soon post regularly again.  I just have to get back in touch with my old, sarcastic, inner self.  That part of me has been worn down to a nub.  I must nurture it back to life.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Three Men and an Attitude

Master Chef "Hosts"



I like food.  I like good food.  I am especially fond of very good food.  When I leave my little burg for an urban excursion, I research the restaurants well in advance of reaching my destination.  And, if the food is not up to snuff, oh well.  Better luck next time.  I won’t be lugging along a trunk full of attitude just so I can unleash it on restaurant employees that cannot meet my bloated expectations.

I’m not fond of reality television shows.  I like good shows. I prefer someone to write a good story, create a layered environment, and round up a herd of good actors to perform.  There is a great wall between the “reality” of today and my choice of programming.   But there are times one just wants to turn on the television and get a quick entertainment fix.  After a three-day walking and eating visit to New York City, the hubby, his mother and I were relaxing in front of the tube.  What to watch?  A show about food?  Sure!   And then we stumbled across Master Chef.  A roomful of amateur contestants ready to cook, and three big, flaming assholes reading to judge their attempts at culinary greatness.

Master Chef was a huge disappointment to me.  There were three judges.  I have only two hands.  Therefore, I was short one middle finger.  Am I the only person left in this country that does not think insulting others is funny?  Sure, those contestants expected critiques of their cooking.  And they expected that those that could not perform well would be eliminated.  Don’t all of these reality and talent shows follow the same formula?  A roomful of pretties waiting to be knocked off one by one?  What I did not expect was for three grown, supposedly respectable men, to act like complete dicks.  At least Freddy Krueger had a deeply-set issue prompting him to turn on others.  Individually, hosts Gordon Ramsay, Joe Bastianich, and Graham Elliot have built food empires based on restaurants, books, television shows, and wineries.  Together on Master Chef, they are three unpalatable turds on a plate.

As I see it, a chef cooks, trains and educates.  They take raw ingredients and form them into beautiful, tasty piles of sustenance.  It is an art form.  The best should be and are looked up to by us lesser life forms.  We want them to feed us.  To share their joy of cooking.  To educate us about their ingredients.  Etcetera.  I don’t feel that a chef needs to spread the knowledge that they would do better in life by running a string of S & M clubs.

No, I don’t think that any of these three men would notice or care that I don’t support their empires after seeing this show.  I don’t want to eat in their restaurants.  I don’t want to buy their books or wines.  I don’t want to watch their ugly, catty Master Chef show.  I prefer a larger entrΓ©e to a larger ego.  In my world of eating food and watching food television, these three have just been eliminated.  If this is the direction gourmet food is heading, I’d rather stick to Stouffer’s. 

Thursday, May 10, 2012

More Tasty Treats for Americans

I'm really not sure what those with a sweet tooth eat in other countries, but in the United States, we eat this:



The Gummy Bacon is actually strawberry flavored.  The Roast Beef gum is roast beef flavored.  I'm not sure about those gumballs.

The hubby spotted this display while in California.  He sent a photo of the gummy bacon and my daughter strongly encouraged him to buy her some.


Check it out through the "Bacon Viewing Window."  Bacon sells.  We LOVE pork fat products here.  And if we're not eating pork fat, we are eating things that look like it.

Strangely, this candy is made in China.  Now we know what the Chinese think of us.  They just want our cholesterol levels to go through the ceiling and for us to fall dead on our faces and they will take over.  Bwah ha ha ha ha ha!!

Monday, April 30, 2012

All American

In the freezer case at your local Sam's

While stopped at a traffic light on our main street of crappity crap, I hear the tell-tale clanging of a flag breezily flapping on a flagpole.  Sure enough, I spot it over the trees.  Which business has this flag on their property?  McDonald's, of course.  Hmmmm, I wonder what other businesses fly the United States flag.   The only other one I see on this street is at the Waffle House.

Is eating crap food patriotic?!?  I'm thinking so.

My hubby and kid went to Sam's the other day to get our bi-monthly bulk items.  He told me they had seen something frightening and had a photo to show me.   Mmmmmmmmm.  Breakfast of (non)champions on a stick.  I guess this makes it far easier to eat while watching those morning programs.

No, there is no flag on the box (that I can see) but it is red, white and blue enough for me.  And the brown of artificially colored gray matter that comprises those sausages and pancakes.

Salute the box, fire up the microwave, and settle in for an hour or two of fine dining and Fox news.

I'm thinking this is not what they are eating in Paris.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Early

Well, it's 5:30 am and I'm heading out the door to work at the polls for the primary this morning.  Oh, it's gonna be dull.  For once, I miss Rick Santorum.  Couldn't he have just hung around a little bit longer?!?  No doubt he was afraid of losing out to Romney in his "home" state of Pennsylvania.

And we're expecting snow.  And nobody of any consequence is running against Bob "I'm doing what the Bishop wants me to do" Casey.

I'm expected a handful of elderly and some hopeful students.

And I have to inform the folks that, come November, if they don't have a photo ID they aren't going to be able to vote.  Yep.  All of those students who wish to cast multiple votes -- can't do it.  Those voter-fraud-happy-hat-wearing old men better be able to cough up the proper identification.  And as the first volunteer in line to help our voters, I'm going to get an earful.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Is it Spring Yet!?!

Well, I suppose the withdrawal of Santorum is like a tulip bulb ready to bloom. A fresh promise for the future.

But, frankly, everything else is still wintery to me.

Wednesday I had some errands to do. Errands usually take me to Target, because aside from Target, there's nothing else but Wal-Mart. I'm NOT going there.

There I stood in the parking lot, ice pellets peppering my face and blurring my vision. Target lay across the frozen tundra to my left. Past three abandoned strip mall stores. In the gray and icy distance stood the brooding hulk of Kohl's, right past the empty lot of dirt and rock. Further into the murky gloom stood the fucking new Cracker Barrel. The sight of this shopping hell turned my shoes to lead and my heart and soul to black stones.

So, unless Santorum changes his mind, I'm pretty much shutting up until I feel warm again. God knows when that will be.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Can't we hang the pope hat next to the KKK hood and keep that closet door closed!

It seems that, lately, we are all promoting ourselves to “constitutional lawyer.” We all claim to know exactly what our founding fathers meant when penning the Constitution. The vast majority of who are weighing in on the U.S. Constitution have no formal education or training to do so. But this seems to be stopping nobody.

So, now I’m hopping on the “I’m a constitutional lawyer” bandwagon. Let’s discuss that Freedom of Religion thing. Why? It’s just a little bitty bit of the first amendment to the U. S. Constitution. A mere 16 words applying to religion in this country. Want to see it? Here it goes:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

I don’t see that it has anything to do with contraception, the good (or not-so-good) folks working down there at the Blue Shield offices, or requiring a European Catholic man to lead our wayward statesmen.

Seems to temporarily-self-appointed-constitutional-lawyer me, that the first amendment states that the government cannot pick one church to rule us all. In law speak that’s the “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion” part. The second part, “or prohibiting the free exercise thereof” seems to say that if you want to pick a religion to believe in or if you want to just stay home and say your evening prayers you’re welcome to do so.

That’s it!

But it seems as if the Catholic Church has done a bit of over-interpretation.

If we’re all going to be forced to fall in with the Catholic Church, then why the hell did our ancestors come to this country in the first place? Are we going to let all of that hard work (of our ancestors) disintegrate under the iron hand of the Catholic Church?

After centuries of fear of control by other countries, are we now going to let the Pope dictate how our country is run? We are letting a man who is not a citizen of this country rule approximately 68 million of our people. This man is not our elected leader. Do these 68 million Americans think the Pope is a congressman living in a suburb outside of Detroit?

THE LAND OF THE FREE is being eaten by a “holy” man in a ridiculous hat.

Ladies and Gentlemen, no one in this country has the right to tell you not to use contraception. NO ONE. No group, entity, faction, denomination, flock or cluster has the right to tell you not to use contraception.

I’ve been a regular voter for 30 years. Not once have I seen the Pope on any ballot. Never. Nor has anyone else in the country. But way too many of us are voting for him one way or another. Are these people forgetting that their ancestors came to this country to enjoy individual liberty? And now they are going to sign over these liberties and those of their offspring to the Pope?

Freedom of religion means that an individual can believe in God, Jesus Christ, trees, mother nature, aliens, and themselves. Or not. If an individual wants to dedicate his or her life to a church, fine. If they do not wish to use birth control, I will not attempt to take away their freedom to procreate until their eyes bleed, or to abstain until their eyes bleed even more. However, I will NOT stand to have them group together in the millions (or more if we include the rest of the world) and get their business up in my bedroom or my uterus.

The Catholic Church does not have the right to control my reproductive parts. The Catholic Church does not have the right to control the reproductive parts of its members. If the members of the Catholic Church choose to be sheep then I cannot stop them. I do, however, refuse to become part of that flock. I will not be governed by them.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Trudging Toward Old Age?

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter, husband and I went to visit my mother-in-law.

She had selected a newish restaurant for lunch, some kind of chain I think. Sweetwater something? Sweet Grass Grille? I don't recall.

We are seated, and before we receive the menus, I know what is going to happen. Music is playing. Some kind of 80's pop perhaps. It's a bit too loud for a mostly empty room.

Now, we are all just a bit touchy. My father-in-law had very recently died, and the rest of us are trying to go about our business of being a family and supporting each other. My mother-in-law makes a wincing face. My husband knows it's about the music. He gets up to ask the hostess if it can be turned down.

Upon his return he reports: "I told them that this is a restaurant not a disco and they need to turn that music down."

Good God. The man is not yet 50, yet he speaks as if he is waving around a cane. What the hell is he going to be like when he's 60?

Several minutes later, the manager comes over. It is a brisk day in northern Virginia, but he makes it look like it's a sweltering afternoon in Las Vegas. He informs us that the music will be turned down. And changed over to Country. I swear I saw him smirk when he said that. Frankly, I'd rather someone spit into my soup.

I guess this is what the long (or for some of us, not so long) trudge toward decrepitude looks like.

I don't know about my old man, but I'm thinking I might just like a disco.

For about five minutes.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Another Post including the name Rick Santorum

I wish all women in this country were in agreement about women having the right of control over their own reproductive systems. Some women agree with those whipping up those “personhood” bills. Many women agree with Rick Santorum and his wish to abolish birth control. Frankly, one woman agreeing with Rick Santorum is one too many.

Our mothers, grandmothers and great-grandmothers have fought for women’s right to vote. The fight was too frequently violent. More recently, women have fought for equal rights, equal pay, and reproductive rights. Are women in this country going to give up these hard-fought rights willingly? Are they going to initiate the overturn of rights already won?

As women, we may oppose birth control. We may oppose abortion. We may oppose equal rights. Parents may wish to teach their children to abstain from sex before marriage.

Do we want to teach our daughters that they have little control over their lives? Do we want legislation that will abolish their decision-making. When they decide to reject pre-marital sex or birth control methods, do we want them to do so because they are forced or because they came to these decisions on their own?

My daughter is certainly going to be able to walk into her employer’s office and say, “It’s fine to pay me less than a man for the same job.” She can also tell a boy or man, “I’m waiting until marriage for sex and I won’t have sex unless it is to have a baby.” She may tell me, “Mom, I don’t want to vote because I just don’t think a woman is capable of making such decisions.” She will be perfectly capable of uttering, “I don’t believe homosexuals should have equal rights.” My husband and I will do our best to educate our child to function in the world as a well-rounded individual. Sure, we will bias her in some way or another. That’s what most parents do. But one thing I WILL NOT do, is take away her rights in order for her to comply to my way of thinking.

Women, mothers, fathers, men, uncles, sons, daughters, grandmothers, when you go to the polls, vote for those who will work to enable all of our citizens in this country to flourish while living peacefully among others in their communities. Do not vote for those who seek to divide us into groups. Do not vote for hate, fear and oppression. Do not vote away your rights and the rights of others.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Oh, yes! It's Another Birth Control Tirade

Looks like President Obama has poked the conservative bear. And you know what happens when you poke a bear. They tend to maul you without asking why you were poking them in the first place.

The religion/birth control war seems to be on. The Catholic leaders have got their skirts in a bunch and Midge McConnell is once again doing his impersonation of a pearl-clutching old woman. “Say,” the conservatives screech, “Let’s do whatever we can to take down Obama, even if that means screwing over millions upon millions of women and girls.

Not only does the Catholic Church want to exempt itself from participating in women’s preventive health care, they want control over the women themselves. I can’t accuse the Catholic Church of kidnapping women and making them join the faith against their will. But I can accuse them of misleading their followers. But that is another loooonnnnnnnnnggg story, and I’m here to bitch about the birth control thing and the control of men over the whole damn world. A simple and brief topic, right? Here’s some semi-random thoughts:

A. The Catholic Church in the United States wants freedom of religion. Yet, this “freedom” removes freedoms from their members. The members are to follow the Church’s teachings. This greatly inhibits the members from thinking for themselves. And who runs this church? Google it. Look at the list of male bishops.

B. The human species has not yet evolved to the point that we no longer need organized religion. Most of us seem to want guidance and instruction. Yet, somehow, too many of us have chosen to have our guidance and instruction created and distributed by men. Yes, ladies, while you were huddled down by the river washing clothes and chasing babies and children, the men starting making rules and we’ve stuck by these rules until very recently.

C. Most of the murder and rape in the world is committed by men. I’m willing to bet, without looking up the statistics, that most of the domestic violence in this country is committed by men. Yes, I know in a bar fight, I’m likely to lose to a man, but to go beyond this physical inequality to across-the-board inequality through archaic laws and religious oppression is detrimental to every individual in this country (even men). Yes, I'll let you open the door for me, but I'm NOT going be forced to gestate the offspring from a rapist.

D. Believe it or not, the same man who thinks you need to accept your broken gift from God if you are raped and get pregnant, could possibly be the next president. And furthermore, according to the ever-persistent Santorum, you better not do a damn thing to prevent that pregnancy. So ladies, if you’re walking home from work one evening, you better just be prepared to be raped and give birth. Frankly, you better not be walking by yourself. You know, the more Santorum thinks about it, you best not be out without an escort and a burqa. And what are you doing working outside the home, anyway?

Until recently, I have not been one to promote discrimination. But I’m going to become more discriminating on whom I vote for. Will I in the future base my vote on a candidate’s religion? As my daughter’s Magic 8 Ball states: Outlook good. I will not knowingly support a person or organization that encourages or merely tolerations the oppression of women.

I voted for Senator Casey in Pennsylvania. Now, when it’s time to stand up for the women of the state of Pennsylvania, he turns tail and hides behinds the skirts of his bishop. Shame on you Senator Casey. Shame on any man in this country (and yes, the world, but that’s another post) who is unable to stand up for the rights of over 50% of the citizens of this country.

Oh, and by the way, thank you to the men who are standing up for the women in this country.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Catholic Conundrum

So, there's this birth control health care thing out there (in some form or another -- it seems to change every minute). And I'm trying to see what the REAL problem is. We're not clubbing seals with this thing. Who's being hurt by preventing unwanted pregnancy?

The president wants employers, including those of religious schools and hospitals to provide access to free birth control to its employees.

The bishops have their BVDs in a bunch.

Why?

If all of the Catholics are doing everything that the men in the funny hats are telling them to do, then where's the problem? If a good Catholic is not supposed to use birth control, then they won't be banging down the clinic doors with funds ill-gotten from insurance companies to protect themselves from unwanted pregnancies. Right?

So, with this fit (or collective fits) the Catholic leaders are throwing, aren't they pretty much showing that they have no confidence in their followers? If the Catholics are heeding their leaders, then no one is even going to fall for this socialist, birth-control trick, are they?

Then where's the problem?

The problem is they are spreading their fear of individual rights and sex and whatnot onto the rest of us. The non-Catholics.

I've never voted for a politician before based on race or religious affiliation. I think those days are over. Today's paper had one of Pennsylvania's senators, Bob Casey, labeled as a Catholic senator. I didn't know we were using those labels. He stated he was siding with his bishop in Scranton on opposing this new health care ruling.

I wrote to him this morning. I'm waiting for my limp-wristed reply. Here's what I wrote:

Senator Casey,

In the past, you have earned my vote for Senator. My belief in the government of the United States is that the people, the citizens, vote for the candidates. We vote on your positions on economic development, social services, etc. The bottom line is, this is a bottom-up government. There are no dictators. There are no kings. The people – those at the bottom, vote to put people in office.

I did not vote for your bishop in Scranton. I don’t believe that he is the king of Pennsylvania. Therefore, I am disappointed to see that he is dictating your position on the new ruling that religious schools and hospitals must provide health insurance for birth control to their employers.

This ruling would allow employers to receive birth control. It gives them an option. No one is being forced to use free birth control. No one is being forced to alter their religious beliefs. If an individual does not believe in birth control he/she does not have to purchase or use it. If a teacher, administrator, nurse, orderly, or janitor at any of these religion-based facilities wants to receive preventive birth control as part of their personal health needs, it is absurd to deny them access if they are unable to afford it.

This is not an abortion debate. This is a health debate. This is also a health debate that concerns mostly women. I am a woman. I am a resident of Pennsylvania. I am a citizen of the United States. I was lead to believe that my vote counts. The leaders of any church in this state or this country should not have a greater say than an individual. They have the right to vote the same as I do, not to dictate. Your job is to represent your constituents, not your bishop.

I'm sure this is just rife with grammatical errors, but I must do these things in the heat of the moment.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Rick Santorum -- Recurring Nightmare

Just when we thought it was over. We put out little, free-thinking heads down to sleep. Then, upon awakening, we find that voters in Minnesota, Missouri and Colorado have put more freaky juice into Santorum's tank. Like a demented, fundamentalist little Energizer Bunny, he's just going to keep on running.

Gone are the days when politicians promised a chicken in every pot. Now, nuts like Santorum are vowing to have their hands in every pot. And dictating what should go into every pot. And telling you, that no matter what is in your pot and how it got there, by God it's going to stay there. Unless, naturally, it has something to do with his own family.

I've heard a few people state that they admire Rick Santorum because he believes in what he says. He's not a flip-flopper. He has conviction. So do mentally ill people. There are people in this country that believe they have been taken aboard alien spaceships, strapped down and probed. They do not flip-flop on this matter. They have conviction. So? Say you're in a car and you're driving the wrong way down a one-way street. You believe you are on a two-way street. You believe that all of the drivers heading toward you are wrong. You never stop to think that it might be you going in the wrong direction. You are convinced you are right. Yet old ladies with shopping carts and kids walking dogs are flying over the hood of your car. Blood and limbs are everywhere. You are arrested. You tell the judge you are not guilty. Everyone else was wrong and you were right. And you also think that you should be president.

And, to top it off, you can proudly state that you think global warming is a hoax.

This man is obviously dangerous. To himself and the entire world population.

Yes, I am a liberal. Did anyone need to have that stated? I can't imagine what it must be like to be a Republican at this point. How do you choose a candidate. It must be like a crack addict trying to decide which of four dealers to purchase from. And holy hell, the lies these dealers would tell just to get this addict to buy from them.

Conservative crack. Don't buy from Rick. He's been cutting his with way too much insanity.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

The Bad Month Cometh

February.

Damn February.

It was always the hardest month to spell. But then, I always (and still do) have a problem spelling girl.

And it's cold. Damn cold. Especially here in central Pennsylvania. Some folks think that spring is coming when February rolls around. We know better in these parts. It's a good month for snow. And ice. And, I'm just guessing here, domestic violence.

Every February I start to hate the dog. HATE. And speaking of dogs, I really HATE those forever piles of yellow and black snow.

The sun doesn't shine here in February.

Roadkill sticks on the pavement longer in February than any other month.

I know February is supposed to be full of romance because of Valentine's day. Bullshit. Nothing is romantic about someone trying to stick their cold hands down my sweater on the 14th just because they think that is the day to do it. Try it again in May, dude.

And, yes, my daughter's birthday is in February. She is thrilled. She loves the planning. What should the theme be? What games should we play at the party? Party favors? Will there be a party activity? Are we going to make the invitations? ic9w9 dieub8esn 988shtww. That's just me beating my head on the keyboard. I love my little bug, but I start to have panic attacks two weeks before the birthday party.

And this is the month that I am forced to look at catalogs of swimsuits and summer clothes. If I don't order all of our spring/summer clothes NOW, the catalog companies will sell out and that will be it. Unless one of us is a 2T or XXXXXL.

Tomorrow morning, over breakfast, I will make my February 1st speech and it goes like this:

Do not touch me with anything cold this month. Don't make any plans that make me leave the house. Somebody better shovel that damn sidewalk. Do not leave any belongings unattended-- they will be thrown away. February is go to bed early month -- get used to it. Somebody needs to buy me books.

Happy February.

Monday, January 23, 2012

My Little World


My favorite periodical came the other day:


UPPERCASE magazine

Uppercase Magazine -- the coolest design magazine out there. Chock full of graphic design, illustration and art.

The most recent issue has a map theme. Shown in the issue were stunning, intricate maps. I was inspired to make a map of my own surroundings. Not stunning. Not intricate. But I wanted to get my map down in less than 10 minutes. My own scribbly, not to scale impressions.

State College, PA, on one page in less than 10 minutes.


To me, the world of State College is quite the limited place. Oh sure, I no doubt forgot to put on a couple of "important" locations. But you get the idea.

I spend a great deal of time thinking about space. Not outer space, but the space we inhabit in our daily lives. Our homes and towns. I'm thinking that I need to widen my world just a bit. Or move to where the world is a bit wider.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Damn that Rick

Another debate. Fewer debaters. And Rick Santorum still stands among them.

I've always heard that if there were world-wide nuclear war, the only living thing left on earth would be cockroaches.

I disagree.

It would be Rick Santorum. Rick Santorum, leader of the cockroaches. And damn, wouldn't there be a lot of cockroaches, cuz' ol' Santorum would be telling them how to breed.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Even More Rick

Or perhaps I should say, even less Rick.

I went a full 24 hours earlier in the week without hearing a soundbite or seeing a photo of Rick Santorum. What a joyous day that was.

A day without Rick Santorum is like a day full of:

Sunshine
Pristine snowflakes
Frosted Cupcakes
Chocolatey goodness
Superfast internet connections
Fresh art supplies
Children Laughing
Babbling brooks
Money falling from the sky
Joyful sex
Choice
Love
Freedom

Did I leave anything out?

Monday, January 9, 2012

More Rick

My newspaper has been full of photos of Rick Santorum, in his damn sweater vests, with a microphone in front of his mouth. His pompous face spewing forth Rick-speak. His values, his beliefs, his Jesus. He has advice for all of us, doesn't he?

A few days ago, Planned Parenthood sent a missive regarding the future of women's health and a request for some money. They advised me that my financial help would be a positive thing for the health of America's women.

Guess who's advice I heeded.

Not Rick's.

And that check to Planned Parenthood was the first of the year, correctly dated.

If Mr. Santorum wants to keep talking, I'm gonna keep giving.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Isn't it too early in the year to rant? Hell no!

I haven't written here in a while, what with all of those holidays. And then along came Rick Santorum. I can't write when I think about him. I can do very little with Santorum on my mind.

Yesterday, I found it extremely difficult to pee when I was thinking of him. I had to turn my thoughts to puppies and llamas in order to clear my bladder. I'm NOT making this up.

And today I read that Santorum is calling Romney's religion a dangerous cult. Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black. And we know how Santorum likes to use the word "black."

I've got to purge this Republican primary from my mind or else go completely crazy.

In my thinking, government should be there to avoid chaos, collect taxes for infrastructure and generally do what is best for the majority of the people. Why the hell are those vying for the Republican nomination doing everything in their power to create and maintain chaos, avoid taxation and do what is best for themselves, everyone else be damned? What a ridiculous side show!

I'm just seething at the thought that this beady-eyed man thinks he or others like him have any right to get within 50 yards of my vagina or the vaginas of the millions and millions of women and girls in this country and dictate what they do or don't do. I truly wish aliens would abduct Santorum, probe him thoroughly against his will, impregnate him and force him to produce the product of Santorum and alien DNA even if it would likely kill him.

Forget the economy, forget foreign affairs, forget war, forget poverty, forget disease, forget education, let's concentrate completely on homosexuality and everyone's sister's reproductive organs. This is the way to make progress, right?