tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66902286175975209472024-03-05T23:50:33.518-05:00She SquaredPoignant, Opinionated, Feral and Female. Be scared. She Squared.Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-21225425995467222992013-04-09T12:07:00.005-04:002013-04-09T13:38:13.499-04:00"Keep-Away from The Gay" Immigration Reform<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The BIG Immigration Reform bill is edging closer and closer to the brink of existence This is wonderful and exciting news - so very overdue for huge chunks of the American populous. It's especially exciting for those of us in Bi-National relationships, marriages, and unions/partnerships. We have been heralding and proposing the Uniting American Families Act (UAFA) for a looooong time now as a way to equalize things in immigration law for spouses who could file for citizenship. It's a chasm that separates gay couples from heterosexual couples in over 1000 specific ways. A lack of federal recognition to marriage has been a sticking point not just in marriage equality - but specifically in immigration reform because of this disparagement. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> This morning, I heard that just about ALL of the (mostly Democratic) Senators I have been faithfully and tirelessly lobbying with emails, phone calls, letters, pleas and presentations are responsible for cutting the UAFA aspect of the immigration reform bill. <b>Specifically - </b><b>Senators John McCain (R-AZ), Jeff Flake (R-AZ), Lindsey Graham (R-SC), and Marco Rubio (R-FL), Chuck Schumer (D-NY), Michael Bennet (D-CO), Dick Durbin (D-IL), and Bob Menendez (D-NJ). </b> If you'd like a nice, clear explanation of this sudden change and who is involved, check out this article: </span><br />
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<a href="http://americablog.com/2013/04/immigration-reform-uafa-gay.html" style="line-height: 24px;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">Immigration Reform Issue</span></a></span>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> In the meantime, I'm asking my fellow humans to reach out to each and every participant in this group of "legislators" and voice their opinion. UAFA was dropped like a hot potato. Gay inclusion is out the window. It's frustrating and at the risk of sounding too simple - it's unfair. Life isn't fair, however in this country, I'm supposed to have the equality and fairness provided to all others under the law, and that's just not happening. </span>Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-75070653154046468552013-03-26T14:40:00.000-04:002013-03-26T15:15:55.787-04:002nd, 3rd, 4th Classes Opposed to the Masses <span style="font-size: large;">This is a big week in politics for me. A BIG week. Big. H.U.G.E. </span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(I promise, if you suffer through this, I'll put a bunch of awesome pretty pictures at the end for those who hate reading...)</span></b><br />
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However, I find myself really feeling more and more depressed about the entire process now. When I first became extremely active in political causes and social issues, I was an idealist. I don't even mean back when I had a mohawk and "Meat is Murder" was plastered all over my old car's bumper as I went to rallies and concerts around Rutgers campuses in my combat boots and Laura Ashley dresses with headscarves. No, I was a complete moron back then. Don't get me wrong - I had <u>AWESOME</u> intentions. I just didn't know very much, and allowed myself to be herded into causes like so much cattle and sheep. I mean in the recent span of the past 10 years. Lisa and I have been really working hard, behind the scenes on grass roots levels all over the place to make our voices heard in battles ranging from Immigration, to the Repeal of DOMA, to the fight against DADT (and enjoyed marching right along side of Lt. Dan Choi for that one!) and <b><u>so</u></b> much more.<br />
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Today, I heard on NPR (one of the only news sources I really listen to anymore) that access to the hearings on Marriage (that the entire nation is incorrectly deeming "Gay Marriage") is a ticketed event, and people have been camping out all weekend for it. My heart leapt with joy, thinking that it was an awesome aspect of our legal system to allow a first come basis for seats to a hearing that <u>REALLY</u> affected people's lives. Then the story became about how those spots were primarily occupied by persons who have zero interest in the case, and will never go to the event. They are PAID to stand in line and secure tickets for interest groups who can't stand there for themselves. NOM, AFA, and other Anti-SSM proponents and hate groups rack up tickets and then fill those seats with heavily weighed opinions on the floor of the court. My heart sank. Really? Even in this venue? Yep. I assume the same might be true for the SSM advocates, but that wasn't on before I had to leave the car.<br />
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So it made me think... YEARS of my life, fighting with due diligence for what's fair, just, and right. I've been so busy fighting that I'd forgotten that my fight - a fight bigger than me - was something that shouldn't even be BROUGHT to a court or to a vote. This isn't about whether or not you approve of any other lifestyle than yours, or if one particular religion's tomes might reference it as a negative. The entire issue is about equal rights for ALL citizens of this country. MY country. The United States. I pledge to it wholeheartedly. I pay my taxes. I vote for representation. I am a human being, living in this country. The issues before the court are not issues to be voted upon. They are already in our constitutional rights to be treated equally. Marriage is a right for everyone. Not just some. <br />
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This work that Lisa and I have been doing is all such agonizing work to fight the <i><b>ILLUSION</b></i> that there should be a vote or a choice. <b>Strip the issue down, remove religious perception</b> (because in law, it's a <u>separation of Church and State</u>, no matter your state and no matter your church preference), <b>remove the dogma of the weighted "Political supporters" who will be in the seats, staring down the Justices</b>, <b>and remove the stigma our nation has created for anyone perceived as "different from the major 99%"</b>. It's all smoke and mirrors, just like the argument over a woman's right to choose for herself and her own body, making informed choices with her healthcare professionals and if she wishes - between that woman and her god of choice. The idea that anyone - especially groups of predominantly white male legislators - and pass a law and strip that decision right out of the hands of these women is disgusting. Both of these examples clearly show a tiered system, almost an animal hierarchy that insinuates and actually creates lesser citizens and greater citizens. <b><u>There are 2nd, 3rd, 4th classes opposed to the masses</u></b>. Also, the ridiculous argument that [gays] want "special" rights when fighting for marriage or other rights. They aren't special. They are the same ones you have, but we want them also.<br />
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Although we have our lives riding on these Supreme Court decisions, and we have no choice but to abide by them and continue to fight for equality, I'm just hoping that sanity will intervene and we will all be represented to each other as fellow human beings. As equals. As Brothers, and As Sisters. We are all the same on the inside. I'd like to think people could see past the cover of my book, because inside, they'd find a gorgeous story they might relate to. <br />
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EQUALITY. LOVE. PEACE. COMPASSION. Let's live the dream.<br />
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Namaste<br />
--B<br />
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As promised... <br />
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<br />Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-68819327646168764302012-10-19T09:55:00.001-04:002012-10-19T09:59:45.066-04:00In Snark I Trust<br />
The State of NJ recently switched to a placard-style temporary license plate for newly purchased vehicles, making them more clearly visible to law enforcement, and forcing dealers to be more accountable for inventory. I'm sure you've seen them around, they are in the license plate spot and usually begin with "the letters "A, B, C, and F""(© <em>Sesame Street</em>). Why is this relevant? Because, I think it's important to <strong>#BlameObama</strong> for all of this new car and economic growth stuff going on. <br />
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It seems that I am surrounded by new vehicles on the road. Everywhere I turn my head, there is another one. F**king <strong>#BlameObama</strong>. Why do people have to be in a bit of an economic upswing? I was really enjoying the huge recession/depression that the previous 8 years made so dependable and concrete. I see old beater cars that plume exhaust into the air going by and I have to say to myself <em><strong>"Thank the Good Lord for Mitt Romney, who will be determined to get us back to the dependable slump and (lack of) economy I knew so well and enjoyed before Obama got his liberal, deficit cutting and economy building Kenyan hands on it."</strong></em> I HATE this oozing optimism that's creeping back into the country. This "Can Do" attitude that is infiltrating my nostrils with the stank of hope as people assess where they are and see the light at the end of the recession tunnel. <u>WAKE UP PEOPLE</u>! Wyle E. Romney will right this erroneous path, and assure us that the light we think we see, can be the headlamp of an oncoming extremist right wing train on track to plow through the middle class and render us hopeless serfs to the Mittocracy. I for one LOVE knowing I can live a beaten down existence where larger than life people with none of my own values dictate what I can and cannot do. It takes away all of that frightful uncertainty that comes with <strong>"Free Will"</strong> and <strong>"Choice". </strong><br />
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And this current trend under the President continues! Every time you see one of those shiny new cars that roll off the assembly lines of hard working Americans, or cars built with the combined efforts of several plants and technologies that spread a ripple effect from creating jobs to buying vehicles you can afford - just think to yourself as I do <strong>#F**kingBlameObama</strong>. Rejoice as the breaking down minivan passes you on the highway with an exasperated mother is hauling her kids to schools (that might have those pesky overpaid teachers in them!) hoping not to break down. Those are the true patriotic Americans under the proposed Romney/Ryan administration. If you were meant to have better working cars, surely the money would have trickled down to you for it. Sure, your cars are driving around next to Cadillacs and Porsche SUVs driven by the elite, but remember, they need the poor to succeed <strong>*IF*</strong> you are going to benefit from their benevolent trickling! Do your part! In the meantime, I'm happy to blame the surge in New Cars being bought to <strong>#F**kingBlameObama</strong> and his annoying growth policies. <br />
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My name is Barbara, and I approved this ranting message.Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-7269885010624309852012-09-04T23:42:00.000-04:002012-09-04T23:42:37.439-04:00Eggs in a BasketcaseThis is not the me<br />
I thought I'd be.<br />
The picket fence<br />
is a picket line,<br />
and the shining prince has been replaced<br />
by dark nights.<br />
Sleep proves elusive<br />
when the horse is laden<br />
and he lags behindGazellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12815338791337266923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-42900324975851533772012-08-20T11:33:00.000-04:002012-08-20T11:55:04.687-04:00Boyfriend Material<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">***As ALWAYS, a quick reminder... this is OUR blog. Don't like it? Don't read it. NO flaming or hate or trolling allowed. I will burn yo ass if you try it. Be polite and considerate of the people who come here to just read and enjoy. Obviously you can see where I stand and what my views are, so don't be the jerk at the bar who had too much and tried to kiss the bouncer. Ok? Cool!***</span></h4>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So, this upcoming election is like being in a continuously evolving relationship. Marriage material. Going steady. Something more substantive than a booty call. </span><br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I was thinking about how there is a huge life altering choice ahead. And somehow, I have to make it. Also, I had to get these two (four) men out of the political media dance and into perspective I can understand. This is the analogy that came to me as I massaged my scalp in the shower.</span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I've been seeing my current beau - Barack - for almost 4 years now. The relationship started with ferocity. It was whirlwind romance at it's best, with courtship and promises galore. We had similar, but not totally identical ideals, and I could deal with that. (Ok, he is seeing another woman and has kids - but no one is perfect) Honestly, I really can't give him too hard of a time, because I came with SUCH baggage from my last relationship. It was a wonder I even tried to commit again. But I did, and now I need to reevaluate my feelings.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Along comes Mitt, and I have to say, his approach was quite clumsy and while I do fall for goofy people, this was not the same thing. This was a clumsy arrogance I couldn't really get comfortable with. I didn't like that <strike>a servant</strike> he ironed his jeans. Oddly, this is AFTER I sorted through a truckload of other potential suitors. <b>Newt</b> was such a hypocrite. I think he secretly wanted to create a harem. <b>Rick</b> was, well... not the brightest bulb. I'm still a little hooked on the sexual tension I got from <b>Ron Paul</b>. *shiver* But he never called back. <b>McMillan</b> wouldn't stop shouting, and in a crowded movie theatre, it was embarrassing. <b>Herman</b> refused to consider a gluten-free pizza and then I found out he had a bunch of crusts on the side. <b>Santorum</b> left a bad taste in my mouth. <b>Michele</b> kept wandering around my house barking and telling me to call Miss Cleo. </span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So I had to take both guys on the things I knew - things I knew for myself or by virtue of actual verifiable facts. I didn't want a hack private dick to follow them around, so I stalked them myself. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Mitt was new. He was almost exciting. Then he spoke. I was bummed. He seemed to be against most things I was for - but I don't count people out for that. I consider that just because someone isn't FOR something doesn't mean they would go out of their way to create barriers, obstacles, or actual legislation against that same thing for others. Oh.... wait... Crap.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I get along really well with Barack's pal Joe. He's unpredictable, and sometimes he puts his foot in it, but you know where you stand with Joe, and he's fun at a BBQ. He's also really cool with my eclectic bunch of friends. At first I thought he'd be standoffish, but it turns out he even encouraged my man to take a deeper look and accept them like one of his own. I thought he had tourrettes, but it turns out he just spits out what he's thinking and likes interesting words. At least it's what he actually thinks!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I tried to have dinner with Mitt's best friend Paul. It was a disaster! We all went out to dinner, but it wasn't "fancy" enough for him. Then we were invited to a small art gathering and he was grumpy and moody, saying that my friends were evil and he's against all the stuff they do. He couldn't wait to get into office to ban a bunch of rights to protect his marriage and please his God. I asked him about LGBT stuff and he thought it was a lunch sandwich. I got a little pissed off, and when I stood up, I knocked a glass of soda onto the lap of the gentleman next to me. Paul promptly had him arrested for murder because he thought the guy ejaculated in him pants, and then he wept for the <strong>"peoplehoods"</strong> who had perished in that guy's khakis. Top it off, someone was playing RATM at the party and he started humming along. Turns out he thought the band name was a play on words about a human ATM machine. He never knew any lyrics, and no one likes the poser at the party who doesn't know the lyrics.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I love guns. I know, shocker to some of my friends, but going north to the ranges and learning about different kinds and shooting them in safety and even owning some in a legal and safe fashion for fun sporting or for personal protection - I'm gooooooood with it. So's Barack. He's never indicated or even tried to implement otherwise, although others keep telling me he's going to take them. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So, after thinking long and hard about these issues, I came to the conclusion that I needed to give my relationship more time. I mean, I wasn't kidding when I said I was a mess when we met - so how could I expect him to cut through all that crap and make my life perfect in four years? It wasn't possible. I'm <u><strong>NOT</strong></u> going to lie... I do feel let down. In many many ways, I feel like he let down the hopeful little girl I was by not following through on all the things he promised. However, those are still things I want to get done, and if everyone broke it off with their significant honey just because they weren't getting all the "honey-do" list items done when we want them done - no one would be in a relationship anymore. Also, it seems like my alternative would be someone I don't know. At least - even in the beginning - I knew what Barack stood for. With Mitt, I didn't like his ideals very much, but even those have been shaky from the start. There is too much questionable information about and even from him. He reminds me of the guy who uses the good linen to make a pointy-hooded "ghost costume". Don't get me started on Paul - just keep him away from my uterus. So, while I might have been able to get through having differences of opinion, it's hard to do that when you can't figure out just what those people's opinions are. And the few that they stand firm on go against my very core values and beliefs - right down to the probability of pushing members of my country, society, and family out of basic human rights and forcing us into a bizarre theologically based political platform of policy that doesn't have a plan to fund it or a basis of proven record. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: white;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">So, congrats to my guy. I'm behind him for this run. I'm sure the next 70-something days will be filled with pandering, mudslinging, and gross misleasing claims on both sides - as this is the political toilet we've evolved into - but I'm trying to stay informed and open and positive. Granted, I'd love to be able to stand up and shout for him the way I did 4 years ago, but he'll have to regain my trust and earn that. For now, I'll keep dreaming of <strike><strong>Hillary</strong></strike> the woman who almost came between us and being grateful for at the very least knowing the basic ideas he stands for. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /></span>Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-46188552370503698882012-08-02T00:18:00.000-04:002012-08-02T00:18:12.916-04:00ResuméRazors pain you;<br />
Rivers are damp;<br />
Acids stain you;<br />
And drugs cause cramp.<br />
Guns aren't lawful;<br />
Nooses give;<br />
Gas smells awful;<br />
You might as well live.<br />
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~Dorothy ParkerGazellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12815338791337266923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-17981199006162836592012-03-29T11:21:00.000-04:002012-03-29T11:21:12.716-04:00Lemme Hear You! Yeah, YOU!Hello good heathens! This is a shockingly short post. Yep. I actually want to know how all of YOU are doing. Whether you know me personally or not. I've been posting and spilling gory guts out on here for a while, so I'd like to hear from others for a bit. Tell me some likes and dislikes. Tell me your opinion on anything you feel strongly about. I'll start: I love the ease of paper plates and plastic utensils, but the guilt of creating more trash consumes me. <br />
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Your turn! Put it in comments, and I'll create some posts from it. Or, share a poem you've written. Whatver.Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-8300780998100702432012-03-02T13:15:00.000-05:002012-03-02T13:53:44.673-05:00Keeping Y'All in Da Immigration Loop-Da-LoopIt's been a couple of weeks, and I haven't really said anything in a while. Mostly, I'm avoiding blogging it because I'll Blommit all over the keyboard, blooking up chunks of emotional ranting that will spiral into non-cohesive bullspunk and end up as angry gibberish dancing across the screen. It'd be like I was typing out the works of Ms. Shakespeare, using the Widget Font. <br />
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So, there is a culmination going on this weekend. It's a big deal, but after a long time of fretting and basically going through the death grief cycle of anger, depression, bargaining, acceptance and so on, I've rebounded. We are more focused and positive. We aren't looking right at our noses. We're looking forward. While details aren't going to be out to the masses yet on what's up this weekend, just know it's another step toward the ultimate goal, and we will make this one, just like we've made the rest. Those of you who do know what's we're up to - ALL the positive vibes you can muster are happily and greedily accepted. <br />
<em><what em="" for="" here...<="" music="" the rocky="" up=""></em><br />
In related news, all of this is not amounting to nothing. Confused? You should be. What I mean is, all of this fighting the good fight, standing up for what's right, arguing for Equality for <strong>EVERYONE</strong>, within no one religion, race, sex, or choice being allowed to squelch any others - that will continue <em><strong>WITH A VENGEANCE. </strong></em><br />
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<strong><em>HOW?</em></strong><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We Will Fight With Our Kitten Armies!<br />
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Look for progress on the newly updated site for <a href="http://www.uafawatch.com/">http://www.uafawatch.com/</a>. Look for us to be in the fray at political events. Look for us to be championing the cause for those who just cannot do so for themselves. Look for us to use sensible arguments, proof, and logic to counter bias, hatred and ill will. Help us in this.</div>
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I hate broaching this, or beating the poor, mange-ridden decomposing horse, but I'm going to remind everyone that on this site above this post is a Donation button through Paypal that is labeled <strong>"Dept of Defense"</strong>. If anyone can, or knows anyone who can spare a couple of dollars using this to help with this cause, it's appreciated. We know it's rough out there right now. We're living it right next to you. We want to continue to be here to fight. </div>
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<br />Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-53410291257687422052012-02-16T18:53:00.001-05:002012-02-16T18:53:08.029-05:00It's not "Do Unto Others As Long As You Agree"...I'm having a hard time trying to sit here and write this post. Seriously. I swing from wild anger to amazement and befuddlement. I cannot fathom that this issue is still something to be argued about. <br />
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Do unto others. It's such a simple rule, yet humans who believe in this rule - religiously or as a standard rule to live by - have managed to fuck it up with their own selfish purposes. Follow me on this, because I may take some detours to get there.<br />
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I have an idea for a story that if it's not yet made, shall be mine - so the following is written with a caveat containing copyright and trademark citation. I think I've seen a few movies written in the perspective of opposite/ironic points of view that are meant to make people stop and think about expanding their view to be accepting of others. Notice - I did not use the term "tolerant". I love that word. I use that word. I can BE that word at times. It seems, however that the general population is against that term, some people arguing that they should not have to be tolerant of someone if they do not agree with whatever it is that person is doing that is so disagreeable. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eye of the Beholder</td></tr>
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An example of this is one of my favorite Twilight Zone episodes, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0734568/">"The Eye Of The Beholder"</a> where a woman is supposed to undergo an urgent last-ditch surgery performed by STATE doctors to make her look "normal". Of course, the reveal (spoiler) shows that the rest of the population's "normal" is a twisted facial disfigurement, and the woman is considered hideous to them by their standards. I like that reminder, and the message is very bold for 1960.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Interracial Marriage? </td></tr>
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I've seen some campy renditions of shows that try to give a turnaround perspective, for example, if white people were plantation slaves or the oppressed side of apartheid. I saw a short that involved the specific situations of a reversed Rosa Parks incident as well as segregation of bathrooms, schools, drinking fountains and so on. The thought of interracial marriage was an abomination because no self respecting black person would ruin the purity of his or her race in such a way! To hear this today makes it seem laughable - but it is in fact the truth of what was done to groups of people all over the world by so many other groups and for so many "reasons" that all boil down to the same smoldering truth that pervades our society. We are intolerant bigots who have not learned from the mistakes of our history. <br />
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In 1950, this country was finally beginning (just beginning) to put an end to segregation. We now look back at the Holocaust and say with certainty how horrible and wrong to slaughter a group based on race, hair color, religion, eye color etc. So what are we doing now? Choosing the next group?<br />
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It might seem silly to some people, and I've even actually had more than a handful of african american and black friends tell me it's a sin to compare that civil rights movement to the movement of gay rights - but I see it as a clear cut case of fighting for Human Rights. I think that without setting my soapbox on fire, I need to say very quickly that I have no illusions about "knowing" what anyone in any group that I was not a part of went through. To say "I understand" would be an insult. So it is with me as well. This is not a joke. People are dying through bullying, suicide, hate crimes, and so much more. it seems stupid to me, not to make the comparison. It is not right for ANY group to limit the rights and freedoms of ANY OTHER group simply because you do not agree with them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.undisclosedstudio.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/gay-bashing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="155" src="http://www.undisclosedstudio.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/gay-bashing.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tolerance?</td></tr>
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Do unto others... I'm back to this now. Ok. So, what if, by my own decree, I announce that all heterosexuals are an abomination to my God, and they therefore cannot marry, vote, teach in schools, or use the same bathroom facilities. Ok, I'm going overboard - or am I? MY GOD, YOUR GOD, THEIR GOD, NO GOD - we have the right to worship (or not worship) whatever god(s) we so choose. Here is where I might lose friends. I believe that the selfish individuals inhabiting this Earth are manipulating the very things they want to protect. Basic Human Rights cannot be determined by religion. If you truly believe in a Christian God, then you truly believe that every single creature on this Earth shall be judged by your God, and only your God. "Judge Not, lest Ye Be Judged" is omitted from the passages that are spat in my face when I am at a support rally for Equality. "Love Thy Neighbor" is never one of the themes I hear when people are referring to their reasoning and their God as to why I should not be allowed to do something. I can pick and choose passages to suit my needs in an argument as well. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4PLcfLrVRaWTcFYTzkeBcsu6u87BhdHjdl-oIZGvWKbkajwzNc_1lufFOH73napA0uVCSU2-HLvvbP6TdFHOAO2NPKxAnnY0KwMD-T1V3K94HRVBCMgiyP3qpivq9YalhkPWIz4ay4PJ/s400/Raynard-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4PLcfLrVRaWTcFYTzkeBcsu6u87BhdHjdl-oIZGvWKbkajwzNc_1lufFOH73napA0uVCSU2-HLvvbP6TdFHOAO2NPKxAnnY0KwMD-T1V3K94HRVBCMgiyP3qpivq9YalhkPWIz4ay4PJ/s200/Raynard-1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NOT ok.</td></tr>
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However, the point of my tirade here is simple - we shouldn't even be having this argument. We as a society have overcome our shortcomings and the horribly askew things we have done to many people, yet we continue to repeat the same mistakes using the same arguments, and now it's a louder argument because some of the people spewing hatred and bias are the very people who fought their way out only decades ago. DO UNTO OTHERS<br />
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Would YOU appreciate it if it was up to a vote as to whether or not you could marry someone you loved?<br />
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Would it be ok if anyone who is married to someone from another country have their marriage immediately revoked and their loved one deported? <br />
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Would you be okay with someone telling you that your religion is wrong, and you are not allowed to believe as you do?<br />
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Would you be okay with being treated differently based upon any aspect of who you are? <br />
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Think long and hard about what you take for granted - growing up, getting a job, going to school, marrying your love, raising kids, getting old and planning retirement, being there for your family....<br />
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Now take those options and severely limit most of them, and take others away completely. That's is what the Equality for ALL movement is about. <br />
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No one is saying that everyone can be a millionaire or own corporations, or go to the best schools or live in a dream house. <br />
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But EVERYONE is born with the option, ability and Equal Right to strive for it. <br />
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<br />Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-642461028966680302011-12-09T11:28:00.001-05:002011-12-09T11:33:38.984-05:00Vanilla Chai Tea, How I Love Thee! -A Guest Post from Christy Cole QuastI have recently discovered (much to my already calorically-challenged dismay) Dunkin Donuts Vanilla Chai tea at my local DD near my office. Their mint hot chocolate is good, too--and nothing beats the SBUX Peppermint Mocha Latte, but I am here to talk about Dunkin. Seems that this delightfully sinful & seasonal hot beverage only comes in a Medium size. Do I look like a Medium gal to you?<br />
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So this morning I asked my guy, Raj, what was up with that--how come I can't get a large, or an extra-large--because I love them so much? So he shrugs and says matter-of-factly "so you buy another one when that one is done." That is a brilliant, almost dumber-than-a-bag-of-hammers marketing ploy, but I have to say it works! They're $2.50 each and I get 2 per day (WHAT?! Don't judge me!) so they got me there.<br />
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I think to myself, I don't want to make the trip <em>TWICE</em>, and I don't want to buy 2 Medium cups to have on my desk while I drink one, and have the other one sitting all alone, cooling... depressed. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why oh Why Can't I Be LARGE!?!</td></tr>
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So I decide to proposition Raj: will 2 Mediums fit in a Large cup? I'll pay for 2 Mediums, just put them in the same cup; Raj says it won't fit. <strong><em>*exaggerated eye-roll*</em></strong><br />
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Then I ask, OK how about a Medium and a Small together in a Large cup; Raj says but we only sell Medium. <strong><em>*forehead slap*</em></strong><br />
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I explain, yes, I know that--I will give you $6 (keep the change) if you just fill a <u>Large</u> cup with Vanilla Chai and charge me for 2 separate Mediums; Raj smiles and talks to me like I talk to my 4th grader--enunciating clearly, loudly and S-L-O-W-L-Y so I have a better chance at comprehending what he is trying to say: BUT THEY ONLY COME IN <strong><u>MEDIUM</u></strong>. <strong><em>*feels a migraine coming on*</em></strong><br />
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Of course, this is 8:15am this morning, and the line was getting longer. And before the woman behind me could gouge my eyes out with one of those sharp plastic coffee stirrers, I capitulated and admitted defeat; Raj has won this round, but I'll be back tomorrow to try and wear him down. Oh yes--I recognize a challenge when I see one; you'd better brew with one eye open, Raj because <strong>I'M COMING FOR YOU!</strong><br />
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<br />Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-74733312514550655232011-11-29T11:05:00.001-05:002011-11-29T12:04:07.069-05:00Forget the Mayan Calendar - My Dreams Could Create Worldwide Panic!<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
I had a horrid night last night, with dreams within dreams that I struggled to awake from, only to find I was awake inside of another dream. At times I was crouched and sweating on the floor of my room next to the bed trying to collate the fractured pieces of the dreams that I could remember. I'm going to stream of consciousness what I can right here and now to get some of it out. I will also note that several people I spoke to today have told me that last night was restless or nightmare ridden for them as well. Interesting. </div>
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So, here we go: Familiar spaces, like homes I have lived in or stayed in all bungled into one string-like scene where everything took place.<br />
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Even in the dreams, I was mostly in a bedroom area, trying to stop something from clawing into the room through the wall. Most times I got a glimpse of what/who was clawing, it was a small girl, dark and long hair, sometimes in anime fashion, sometimes in a very "The Grudge" way.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifEwmOjpQlkOJl0CnQzi8y033DUnrML1pUp2ZOn0iNdNhxF4mu-7-pifk_PJgPwYs2JdC91F0WgMaGmqJ20HaDo1HNU5FU1avJ1fMVhVC4jM0w1Z_jOkMIr7gNTHaU0UxCKxzZUDP61M_9/s1600/After+Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="154" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifEwmOjpQlkOJl0CnQzi8y033DUnrML1pUp2ZOn0iNdNhxF4mu-7-pifk_PJgPwYs2JdC91F0WgMaGmqJ20HaDo1HNU5FU1avJ1fMVhVC4jM0w1Z_jOkMIr7gNTHaU0UxCKxzZUDP61M_9/s320/After+Me.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just when I thought I had woken up, this essentially shit me awake.</td></tr>
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At other times in the dream, it would switch to a perspective where I wasn't being hunted or haunted, but instead, it was up to me to keep people I love safe. It was kind of a surreal Walking Dead/American Horror Story Basement/Resident Evil landscape. It was trippy. No cars worked, no escapes were possible, but I had to fight off evil and clever monsters. One such resembled her<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmvXYpWWeQuxMrM57btGJ5JgauTRG_H2RpwwQyATuD_HqdPOaoSbXrv6nUnGrNrViFq3iSg8sluURqd5SnxucvFB6VJWw0eQVplhA50QF_-RSq6BeGtoHvf5ZEOGKdkparZ70iotlTAPD/s1600/Monster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmvXYpWWeQuxMrM57btGJ5JgauTRG_H2RpwwQyATuD_HqdPOaoSbXrv6nUnGrNrViFq3iSg8sluURqd5SnxucvFB6VJWw0eQVplhA50QF_-RSq6BeGtoHvf5ZEOGKdkparZ70iotlTAPD/s320/Monster.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Continual battle of the pointy teeth and my flesh. </td></tr>
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No matter how hard I tried, I was torn to bits, and someone I cared for took a decent hit/got a chunk taken from them. I continued to wake partly, into another dream where I was in my actual room - every detail was correct - but I wasn't really awake, and I couldn't move well, and inevitably something was coming for me and I had no defenses. Once it would get within striking distance, it would lunge, and I would muster up enough to physically scream myself awake. This happened several times. I finally gave up, stopped hyperventilating, and stayed awake for the rest of the early morning. </div>
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It wasn't just in my 'hood'. I got the impression that it was happening all over, and that I was only privy to seeing what was directly around me or what impacted me. I did note that I never felt as though Lisa was in danger, so I guess the south is protected in some way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0azVJHOepp9OsEUm9ykq8U7uvKdFdf0yA8LK9Joa2-MUoFAe3_TPUkgTqIa5ZZAHPkp0_Fcr4jkzWBXdkt4EXO4aNIPaqe5kmqE1NV5cs6JHaXkdv7tVjhQjytrlGGTFBXvVFbWmxpukF/s1600/fish.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" dda="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0azVJHOepp9OsEUm9ykq8U7uvKdFdf0yA8LK9Joa2-MUoFAe3_TPUkgTqIa5ZZAHPkp0_Fcr4jkzWBXdkt4EXO4aNIPaqe5kmqE1NV5cs6JHaXkdv7tVjhQjytrlGGTFBXvVFbWmxpukF/s320/fish.bmp" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look how the monster hides behind a little fishy.<br />
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Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-15153631351316335102011-11-27T17:40:00.001-05:002011-11-27T18:01:53.661-05:00Pity, Not So Much of a Party.Forgive the whimper, but better that than <i>wine</i>.... Oh! The puns!<br />
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Seriously though, this has been my frame of mind for a while now, and I'm wondering if I've reached a breaking point. Thinking back - some of you know from my earlier stuff that I started addictions early.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8mRfkx69hPYgx2bJ9HXn5W87O8IK26bla_L_wpB9kRHI6p0Td5euQC6ReM8gBb5PTsrf1yT-NULZ2bbaEO31iKL2CqO9qWnXWLv7aD5hEAC_RzS_NtVWD99VPBtw9XXdX3DXTdqMCpI5/s1600/Baby+Barb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8mRfkx69hPYgx2bJ9HXn5W87O8IK26bla_L_wpB9kRHI6p0Td5euQC6ReM8gBb5PTsrf1yT-NULZ2bbaEO31iKL2CqO9qWnXWLv7aD5hEAC_RzS_NtVWD99VPBtw9XXdX3DXTdqMCpI5/s320/Baby+Barb.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me Grocery Shopping circa 1976</td></tr>
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I've been a quietly sober adult for somewhere around 17+ years now. I did it the hard way, and I did it many times in the beginning, but it's been a solid run for about 16 years. A lot of folks will tell you that <i>'you ain't done it right if you only done it once...'</i> heh - I digress. <br />
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Now I'm having a horrible crisis of staying power. I'm up to my neck in troubling issues - but who isn't in this crazy world? I'm reaching the point where it's frustrating me that so many people can turn off the bright fractured light that scorches my eye sockets daily. I feel pain, sadness, fear beyond belief every day for the last few months. I do all I can to control it, and deal with it. At the end of most days, I'm talking myself down from a panic attack just to get to sleep for a few hours. So, I'm fretting hard because in my mind, I'm convincing myself that I've been <b><i>soooooooo gooooooood for sooooooo loooooong</i></b> that I should be fine if I just grab a quick drink or two. And I know where that thought process leads, but I'm seriously not feeling all that compassionate towards myself in this predicament. I see close friends and family who obliterate themselves in the name of self pity, and I think <i>"Why can't I take a little pity on the rocks for myself as well?" </i> I'm very confident that I wouldn't escalate from a Jack 'n Coke to a needle. I really think that I can control myself, but the tiny bit of doubt has me sweating. What if I'm wrong? What if I undo all those years of work? Sometimes I get selfishly grumpy that no one has to know my suffering about NOT being able to drink until I no longer have to think about shit. I get to hear about how others had a bad day, so they are off to forget about it. I can't forget. I am not allowed to use the shut off valve any more, and it really really fucking sucks. So, for now, I'll post stupid demotivational pics on here and convince myself that I'm just being a whiny bitch and go drink some fucking tea. Yeah me. Woo.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpNck3Mazoy7F7OUHfPLlQ7lCYqdYjlc_00hK1mR9qhPdobEGONw334jFyF0cELLOKyyRPx1Am9eS7HLw6mMBbOaD5WY-c6oj-QgiALRLPVynaE10d0R0VzLwO7QWJLL_9484TBhyphenhyphenDiQn/s1600/alcoholism1.jpg_12864104191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpNck3Mazoy7F7OUHfPLlQ7lCYqdYjlc_00hK1mR9qhPdobEGONw334jFyF0cELLOKyyRPx1Am9eS7HLw6mMBbOaD5WY-c6oj-QgiALRLPVynaE10d0R0VzLwO7QWJLL_9484TBhyphenhyphenDiQn/s320/alcoholism1.jpg_12864104191.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HS Graduation?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7nWEmnaQq0R9n4Z2DRPD8n6ilE0D54hGHfyWn_RmRQ2tZgRA3xM-Kk6EnqYK3JAlEm9ag5u4FhVVMUj7phZy6pd3uOAWrZMBaIoI0I52YsRpzIl1gXUxE71ZUqU-f9MYtsk-QgoTEGBa/s1600/alcoholism_toilet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7nWEmnaQq0R9n4Z2DRPD8n6ilE0D54hGHfyWn_RmRQ2tZgRA3xM-Kk6EnqYK3JAlEm9ag5u4FhVVMUj7phZy6pd3uOAWrZMBaIoI0I52YsRpzIl1gXUxE71ZUqU-f9MYtsk-QgoTEGBa/s320/alcoholism_toilet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've seen so many toilets, and loved them all!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazspizhi-SgIn3H_Oa2be4ZfT-pPLmYDs_f90b37wF7poNQoCnNQhzGaVXo1N6sJJudnhj-Xl0JLh9CMHdNYZz6XLK8E5zYXSXn2YN5sD4svaVLM9YQUvcDgY9R8rsqeCeTIjIwP-j7pT/s1600/alcoholism-alcoholism-demotivational-poster-1244872175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazspizhi-SgIn3H_Oa2be4ZfT-pPLmYDs_f90b37wF7poNQoCnNQhzGaVXo1N6sJJudnhj-Xl0JLh9CMHdNYZz6XLK8E5zYXSXn2YN5sD4svaVLM9YQUvcDgY9R8rsqeCeTIjIwP-j7pT/s320/alcoholism-alcoholism-demotivational-poster-1244872175.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah. I had those friends too. </td></tr>
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<br />Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-24421298096075623852011-11-18T14:44:00.001-05:002011-11-18T15:23:37.105-05:00Keep on WALKEN!!Yeah Yeah... I'm the mistress of bad puns, but I can't help it. I just wanted to share something non-law suit related that isn't depressing and whiny. So, I want to give a quick mega-mega thumbs up to a flick I just caught on cable last night. (I can tell I'm getting old - I just called a movie channel on tv "cable") I stumbled across it last night, and I will watch any-fecking-thing that has Christopher Walken. Serious, funny, violent, sweet - I don't care. He is <u>THE MAN</u>. <br />
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I digress. So I found <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0112288/"><span style="color: black;">The Addiction</span></a> last night and I was transfixed. First, Abel Ferrara made a visual stunner. A very high contrast B&W brought out the perfection of the moods in ever scene. Stellar performance by Lili Taylor. I was shocked to see Anabella Sciorra, Edie Falco, Kathryn Erbe, and a few others I recognized. The general gist is the idea of Vampirism in a more visceral, real form centered in NYC with a huge emphasis on status, philosophy, good vs. evil and in-depth theories of addiction. The addiction side is not a hidden theme, as it's literally compared to drug addiction, even going so far as to have Walken's character (a long time vamp who has retrained his body to adapt to not feeding, and to eat, sleep and behave in human society) say to Taylor's younger and uncontrolled vamp character <em><strong>"You know how long I've been fasting? Forty years. The last time I shot up, I had a dozen and a half in one night. They fall like flies before the hunger, don't they? You can never get enough, can you? But you learn to control it. You learn, like the Tibetans, to survive on a little."</strong></em> She briefly attempts this, meanwhile achieving her pre-vamp goal of her PhD, only to be unable to resist the blood lust; and with the help of her fledglings slaughter the very faculty and staff after graduation at a small soiree Taylor has a very drug-OD moment in the streets of NY and the voice says <em><strong>"We drink to escape the fact we're alcoholics. Existence is the search for relief from our habit, and our habit is the only relief we can find."</strong></em> in a poignant reference to why she did it. I've never felt as though someone could capture the true feeling of that kind of addiction, but it truly was perfect. <br />
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It does get a little obtuse at times, venturing into almost pretentious goth emo-ism, however, these tangents aren't long lasting, and Taylor more than convinces you that even if you aren't understanding what she's saying, it's of vital importence and you let it go. I get the deeper meanings I wasn't thrilled at all with the ending, which appeared to be a vague and uncertain copout, but then again, I might have missed something. I really enjoyed when Taylor lays out her horror at what she is, in the grand scheme of the world, and yet the wording is perfect to open it to every individual, of humans as one race - <em><strong>"I finally understand what all this is, how it was all possible. Now I see, good lord, how we must look from out there. Our addiction is evil. The propensity for this evil lies in our weakness before it. Kierkegaard was right - there is an awful precipice before us. But he was wrong about the leap - there's a difference between jumping and being pushed. You reach a point where you are forced to face your own needs, and the fact that you can't terminate the situation settles on you with full force."</strong></em> All in all, Taylor and my beloved Walken give amazing performances that demand to be watched with riveted eyes. I strongly recommend this flick! It's not available for rental, as far as I can find. I think you'd need to look it up on your cable provider. It's worth it!<br />
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And now, <u>MY</u> moment of <strong>Walken...</strong><br />
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<br />Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-8400071537805349052011-10-25T18:07:00.002-04:002011-10-25T18:08:59.581-04:00A Douche A Day...Well, you know the rest of that rhyme. I just had to stop and say that I encountered a douche of ginormous proportions today, and I have to say, I am sincerely glad that I did. Here's why.<br />
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I don't know this person, I only know of him through a friend. He said some things of douche nozzle style, and, hard as it is to believe this - I actually took it kinda poorly. Admittedly - I'm dealing with a lot on my plate <i>(see: epic court battle plus my work stress, plus the possibility to my wife being deported, therefore leaving us no choice but to relocate in another country due to the unfair and unequal laws of my beloved country)</i>. Still, what was said was a monumentally douche canoe thing to say. I felt shame, guilt, helplessness and just plain dirty all over again. But here's the catch -<br />
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I hadn't been dealing with it, and allowing this person's stinky ways to make me feel powerless left me feeling, not so fresh. When I took a step back, took a deep breath (through my mouth, because, well... not so fresh) and realized that I was not in control of myself. Relief washed over me. I felt cleansed and renewed. I really got up in there and changed my perspective, and it mirrored what I've been feeling about someone else lately who is behaving in a very similar fashion. The emotions were spurting forth, and I was so full of energy, I wanted to play tennis or ride a horse. <br />
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So, Thanks a heap to the tremendous douches I encounter in this world. As I learn to deal with each of you, I learn to deal with myself, and in this way the douche canoes of the universe really can't hurt me anymore.<br />
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Oh, and don't forget that the top of this page has a shiny donation button - in case you want to help us with a deeper clean! ;)Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-81983023777626742392011-10-24T07:44:00.001-04:002011-10-24T08:42:37.409-04:00A Halloween Reverse Trick or Treat!!Hello Guys and Ghouls We've been a little absent - or ghostly even. I wanted to post a quick note to explain that there is a shiny new feature on our blog. It is nothing we ever wanted to put there, and it's a humbling and almost embarrassing thing to have to resort to, but those of you who know our current situation will know why it's there. It's a <i><span style="color: yellow;">shiny new pretty yellow</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i><b><span style="color: #fff2cc; font-size: large;">PayPal Donate button</span></b>. We've set up a secure way to have friends, family, strangers who support the cause, or random drive bys to help us out. We have no illusions that we'd make the $15K we need to raise this week, but the point of the donation button is that even a dollar here and there will totally help defray the costs and keep us afloat while we do battle in courts of law. <br /><br />So, in the spirit of Halloween, help us defend our castle and lives against an evil ogre! Wear a costume while you donate. Wear costumes while you share our link with other costume wearing folk. I can't promise any candy in return (and I can't say anything about tax breaks because we aren't a non-profit) but I will tell you that fighting to keep Lisa and I together in the home we made together for 6 years, that is indeed a tasty, chocolate wrapped prospect that we can all share in. <br /><br />No matter if you can help with donations, spreading the word and the link, or just leaving us some words of encouragement - it's all anon anyway, and we love each and every person who takes the time even just to read this and think about us - send us some good energy for the battle ahead. It's taking a toll, but we won't let the Troll win! <br />If anyone wants more in depth information about what is going on and why we are doing this, paying no attention to the man behind the curtain, contact us privately. All I will say is, what would normally be a small inconvenience for most US citizens becomes a battle to prove our side to avoid deportation. Unlike the opposition, we will remain tactful and professional. The best revenge isn't revenge at all - it's using the truth to prevail in unfair situations without sinking to a scummy level. <br /><br />So, Alice, Lisa and I thank you - for anything and everything you do. <span style="color: #cc0000;"><3 <3 <3</span>Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-39878041008034105082011-08-04T11:00:00.000-04:002011-08-04T11:00:36.059-04:00Wistful ThinkingI am becoming a bit disheartened by the way life has become extremely Sisyphean of late. I have maintained a positive outlook for so long, that I've confused it with a version of reality that simply does not exist. <br />
While I do love me some Camus, I disagree with his noted take on the myth (in his "The Myth of Sisyphus") saying "'Sisyphus as personifying the absurdity of human life, but "one must imagine Sisyphus happy" as "The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart.'" <br />
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Ummmm. No. While I am 100% about the path and the journey, I believe that the episodes that present themselves to us are learning tools and opportunities of all kinds. i believe that they have purpose, and therefore can be ignored, attempted, abandoned, accomplished, or truly inspiring. I also believe - if you follow the original myth - that the punishment fit for his trickery of the Gods has nothing to do with 'normal' human suffering. In a way, I could see it as an addended version of reliving our lives to learn the lessons we failed to grasp. More than this, I see a connection to what is gained by hard work. This would emphasize the issue I am dealing with right now. I cannot find a correlation to the extertion I put forth and the result that is achieved. <br />
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I have lost a valuable sense of self worth, and in this aspect, I feel as though I am in a Sisyphean struggle... a constrant struggle both inner and outer to achieve value of self and the vain struggle for knowledge that continues to elude me. The struggle for financial worth - while a noted part of human suffering as per my own Buddhist ideology - is something I cannot give up. In this day and age, the very best a person can hope for is employment that offers the main components within living th 8-Fold Path. Right Livelihood is one of the things I strived for. The rest of how I try to live is as follows - Formatted for my Geek Friends:<br />
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I am trying, but I feel a little conflicted and alone sometimes, and I do not wish to cause others to shoulder the boulder, as it were, along with me. <br />
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I'd love comments, advice, or just thoughts from others about similar feelings or even opposing feelings. Let's sit with coffee and discuss.<br />
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*sits back waiting*Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-41389372560201507082011-07-13T14:16:00.000-04:002011-07-13T14:16:57.142-04:00Inner Peace vs Innards in PiecesIf a Miss America contestant came up to me spouting cheerfully about wanting world peace right this instant, I would punch her in the right boob and then backhand her for good measure. Ok, I'd rather it be Michelle Bachmann spewing about the evils of tehGeys. <br />
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How can I be certain those would be my exact actions? Simple. I'm right handed, so landing a good swing with my right fist lands it squarely on her right boob (all things considered equal in height and such), leaving me time to backhand her with the same offending hand while she grabbed said injured mammary and looked right at me with that wounded puppy shock and awe with mouth agape - ripe for the smacking. I can almost hear the Prodigy pumping in the soundtrack for this moment in time. Wait, maybe it'd be a Tom Petty tune. <br />
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Gee, Barbara. You are always the epitome of calm and rationale. You study the Buddhist life path. You are always settling arguments with compassion. The Dalai Lama calls you for meditation advice when China is pissing him off and he wants to choke a bitch. AND you're so pretty!<br />
This is all so true, but there is an often overlooked caveat - I am <em><u>PRACTICING</u></em> this path in my life. At this moment, I'd say that I need a <strike>little</strike> lot more practice. <br />
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Yet, I still feel as though with all that is happening to me, in me, and around me - I am proud of how well I am holding up. I am facing down lying political pricks who are stripping me bare of every basic right. I'm fighting for my job and the jobs of the people I work with, since I'm in negotiations for my union. I am battling fear over my own health issues. I am <strike>at war </strike>grumpy with US Immigration and doing all in my power to stop them from separating me from my wife through deportation. I have wanted to break down entirely and give up, but some good shines down. Even though sometimes the good in disguised as a breakdown in our car, a tow to another state, sickness, obstacles - I smile back to think it meant spending more time with people I love, being 'forced' to slow things down, and generally look at things in different ways. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Yep. I'm still practicing and learning. I'd love to be omnipotent and omniscient, and omnipresent, and omnivorous... wait - I AM that last one for certain. Well, the rest of 'em. Yet, that would signal the end of my journey - and I don't think I'm really that <strike>evolved</strike> smart yet. So, I subject myself to this world and it's people, and work very hard to overcome my own obstacles and practice compassion in my every day life. Hopefully, I will continue to grow and brave these storms. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In the meantime, I'm just itching to run into a pageant girl while I am still amped with residual unfocused anger. Actually, I'm not picky. I'd be just as happy punching a priest, nun, paedophile, country music star, or any Kardashian. Oh Hell - I just want it to be Bachmann!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div>Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-1459428678951357292011-04-07T13:49:00.000-04:002011-04-07T13:49:26.794-04:00Of Teeth and FairiesToday, Lisa officially lost her wisdom... teeth. Or some of them, anyway. My Mom was gracious enough to accompany her, take her home, and stay with her since I am here at work and HATE dentists. I figured that it was better that Lisa was with someone who has had a LOT of practice with dentist patients, since I was almost constantly have procedures done for most of my young and teen life. I detest the dentist. Not the person, mind you, but what that person does. Therefore, not having me by her side freaking out and lamenting the evils of the profession was something I believe to be a good thing. <br />
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I got a call that all went well, and that she's home resting with my Mom looking after her. I'm glad to have the juicer now because it will be a great way to get nutrition into her without her having to chew on anything. I'll try to throw something interesting together for tonight's "meal" for her. Muah ha ha!<br />
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Send the poor lass some love if you get the time. She'll enjoy reading the well wishes when she's coherent. Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-63293812411764864522011-03-15T10:16:00.004-04:002011-03-15T11:07:17.063-04:00Kristen Gillibrand and DOMAA small forewarning - this might sound like advocacy. That's because it is.<br /><br />Senator Kristen Gillibrand has been a HUGE help to the LGBT community over the last 6 months, and I've said before that personally, if it wouldn't split up two marriages, I would happily have her babies. Currently, she's leading an initiative to help repeal the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA). This is a big deal for me and the wife, because it would mean that she could sponsor me - in the same way as a heterosexual citizen can sponsor their spouse. We're over the $100,000 mark on how much we've spent for the luxury of spending the last 5 years together in the same country - this would not only reduce our financial burden, but also make it possible for couples who don't have assets they can so easily liquify. It's also the <b>right</b> thing to do.<br /><br />Kirsten says: <blockquote>"Recently, President Obama ordered the Justice Department to stop defending DOMA in federal court. This is a huge first step, but the fact is that as long as DOMA remains on the books it will continue to be enforced until Congress repeals it legislatively."</blockquote><br /><br />DOMA is an indefensible, unconstitutional law that denies rights to far too many of its citizens. I'd quote a figure there, but the polls always come out with totally different numbers. I will tell you, though, that there are <a href="http://www.thetaskforce.org/downloads/reports/reports/GAOBenefits.pdf">1,138 rights</a> denied to US citizens because of this unjust law.<br /><br />Suffice to say, that the documented 'safe' guess of binational couples in which one partner is a US citizen is 36,000. We know it's more. <br /><br />Give me a reason why I should not have the right to marry the person I love. If it's religious in nature, please remember that this country is not a theocracy, and that your God is probably not the same as mine - and neither has more power over the constitution of one country than the other.<br /><br />There are many other reasons to support the repeal of DOMA - but on this blog, and in our house, the immigration rights are the most important.<br /><br />Please support Kirsten Gillibrand, and <a href="http://feinstein.senate.gov/public/">Senator Dianne Feinstein</a> in their introduction tomorrow of legislation that will repeal DOMA, once and for all.<br /><br />You can show your support by signing <a href="http://act.democracyforamerica.com/go/561?akid=577.417382.D-aOjX&t=1">this letter</a>, urging Congress to repeal this discriminatory and unconstitutional law. We couldn't thank you enough. This has to go - and with a Republican-controlled House, right now it's going to be a tough, tough fight.Gazellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12815338791337266923noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-85150737671321727742010-12-26T12:35:00.000-05:002010-12-26T12:35:18.813-05:00Haunt Couture and Strange Things Done. Dynamic Duo!We've been busy little bugs of late. Some good stuff, some not so good, and some amazingly great. Will post something soon, but in the meantime, I wanted to give you all a link to a blog of someone spectacular to me, Miss Haunt Couture. Ok, in my life she's known as Melissa Joy Crawford. You can see her accolades on <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0186899/">IMDB</a>. Even more impressive to me, you can see her continuing and very extraordinary work almost daily in NYC on Broadway. (currently working on <i>Pee Wee's Playhouse</i> on Broadway!) There, she is a costume designer, effects person, and likely a whole bunch of other things I know nothing about. Please, stop by her site or look her up - Google her or whatever. She's truly someone worth knowing!<br />
So, Check out <a href="http://misshauntcouture.blogspot.com/">MJ at Haunt Couture</a><br />
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Side note - Her beau, John Matthews, is a fantastical musician, and his band <i>Strange Things Done in the Midnight Sun</i>, can be seen in NJ and NY all the time. I don't know much more, but they do have some videos on You Tube and such. <a href="http://www.myspace.com/strangethingsdoneinthemidnightsun">Strange Things @ mySpace</a> or at <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Strange-Things-Done-In-The-Midnight-Sun/10865027773">Strange Things @ FaceBook</a><br />
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You can thank me later. <br />
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Another fun thing for you to look up on this snowy Boxing Day!Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-65372716293475860092010-11-30T12:18:00.003-05:002010-11-30T12:23:11.769-05:00Bad Bad WifeThat's me. I'm a bad wife. <br /><br />This year has had so much going on for me, what with a potential move to Ethiopia, massive panic over impending 30-tude, and getting increasingly involved in politics. It's had so much going on that I have inadvertently completely thrown everybody I care about by the wayside. I don't know what my Wife wants for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bodhi_Day">Rohatsu</a>. <br /><br />I could look within myself and pull up things that I know she loves, but I've been so damned introspective for most of the year, that I don't even know what those things are right now. It's been all "Me-me-me."<br /><br />Next year will be better. Next year will NOT be all about me. <br /><br />For now though, I'm taking gift suggestions...Gazellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12815338791337266923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-61752283201916002582010-10-05T12:05:00.000-04:002010-10-05T12:05:19.166-04:00We All Have A Story <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In light of the recent suicides that are rocking our nation and draining the light from so many people, I have decided to share a tiny bit of myself and my story in the hopes that I might inspire at least one person to decide that it can, in fact, <u>get better</u>. I will leave the vast majority of details out of this telling – for the sake of family and friends who do not need or want to know them. What is important will remain. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><u>We All Have a Story</u></strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Late Saturday night on an exceptionally humid June night, I stepped out of my apartment to walk the short distance to the tiny market for things to drink. Nothing was left in the apartment I shared with a girl who worked with me, and it was filled with all sorts of random people she invited over, so going out into that air was a relief from the smoky air rife with random degrees of body odor and patchouli that permeated the apartment. It is a big city sky overhead and the streetlights were sparkly in the hazy air. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I greeted the Korean man who owned the small corner convenience store as always, and waved at his wife who was knitting in the back corner by the coolers. After grabbing a few bottles of Snapple and soda, I walked back over to the register, paid and started to head home. Once outside, I lit a Camel Red and looked around, leaning back on the brick building. It had been (or more correctly, it still was) Pride weekend in the city, and although the parade ended hours ago while it was still daylight, you could still hear some music in the streets, and see people bounding from one location to another in big, happy, giggling groups. Some groups were dispersing for the night, and others looked like they were just meeting up to begin theirs. The promise of fun was tempting, but I had a pillow with my name on it, and an early shift at work waiting for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I blew out the smoke I was holding in my lungs, contemplated the nub of the cigarette that was left, and crushed it out on the sole of my Doc Martins. I was only running to the store, so I threw on what I could, and I now assessed my ensemble. Cut off jean shorts, a thin ribbed tank, and a light faded flannel tied around my waist. Good thing I wasn’t going to run into friends like this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I set off for the apartment with my bevy of beverages, the perspiration gathering on my top lip. I was wishing I had worn socks of some sort, because even my feet were sweating and slipping around in the Docs. I rounded the corner from the market and almost plowed head first into a small group of three. I jerked back and grunted the perfunctory apology and continued down the block. I hadn’t gotten more than about 8 feet when I heard a female voice from behind me hiss “Watch yourself, Dyke.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I’d been in the city long enough to know that you learn what battles to pick, and this wasn’t one of them. I didn’t even turn around, but kept my head down and kept walking. Names, hostility, and some criminal mischief seemed to come with the territory, but so far, I’d never really been scared so I shrugged these kids off too. That wasn’t going to be the end of it this, however.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I heard a shuffling of footsteps approaching from behind, and I wheeled around, ready to defend myself with more apologies. They were right up on me – two guys about 17 and maybe 20, and a blonde girl about my age in heavy make up, jeans, and an old college sweatshirt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “I really didn’t mean to bump into you. Sorry if I disturbed you.” I made to turn around and walk away. Walk away, the smart thing to do – so I had always been told and still believe to a point. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Oh, you disturbed me, alright, Dyke.” That last word came out like spit between her teeth. “I saw you looking at me, and it’s not alright. Just because you have some parade or something doesn’t mean you get all the pussy you want. Most of the women here are normal. Stop spreading your sickness or Aids will stop you anyway.” She was glaring at me, and her friends were nodding. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Ok, gotcha. You aren’t my type anyway, so please have a good night, and I won’t be bothering you anymore.” I turned on my heel and quick stepped it out of there. I was around the next corner and a little way down the block before I took another breath. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Shitheaded homophobes” I breathed out to myself. I tried to shake it off, and tried to bounce in my step again. I started thinking about how tired I was, and how much I looked forward to sleep tonight. I also needed to talk to Dust, my roomie, about expenses, but that would wait for another night. I dug into my front jeans pocket for my Camels to calm me. I never heard them coming. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The first thing I heard was a heavy step right behind me, and I felt a heavy blow to my left cheek as I turned, followed by a fist to my stomach. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see, and I couldn’t stand. I dropped to my knees, the bag of drinks spilling to the sidewalk behind me. I could taste the rust of blood in my mouth. I opened my right eye and saw the three of them arced around me, the female in the middle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “You saw her. She was looking at me all lesbian. That’s disgusting. Hold her down” she spat. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “No, I… I didn’t mean, I wasn’t…” I barely managed to squeak out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Save it, Dyke. We don’t like gays here. Fags are gross, so we get rid of them since the police won’t. No parades or twinks around to save you now, are there?” she taunted. “I said hold her”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> They grabbed my arms and held them out while she delivered several kicks to my chest and stomach. Pain tore through me, and I couldn’t move, breathe or beg. She picked up a small bottle sitting on the steps of an apartment building next to her and smashed it into my face. I saw the bright hot light of pain, heard talking, but then mercifully passed out while they continued to rein punches and kicks to my head and body. As I went out, I begged any God to spare my family finding me. We hadn’t had a lot of contact since I left home, and I realized it might have been to save them from finding out about this ending. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I woke up several days later in an area hospital. The only other person in the room was a guy in the next bed who heard me sputter a little as I came around. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Hey, you’re awake? They beat you a good one. Surprised you wanted to wake up.” He rolled away from me and watched his tv.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Tears rolled down my face as I realized a number of things. There was no one there for me. There was no one for the hospital to contact for me, to claim me, to help me. I called my roommate from the phone in the room, trying to work my jaw and swollen lips around my teeth. How I still had my teeth, I don’t understand. The phone rang and rang until a guy picked it up. I asked for Dust, but he said she’d split two days ago after I didn’t come home, and he had taken over the apartment. He said my stuff was in the basement if I wanted it, or what was left of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I hung up as sobs escaped me. I had no home to go to. I had no friends to call. The only thing I could think of was how to escape this life. I had a habit I could return to. It could dull my senses, or if I could find the money to afford it, it could be my ticket out of this hideous place. I knew why I had been beaten to the core. I could suffer it alone. Only I didn’t want to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The nurses let me use the bathroom once the catheter had been taken out. So far, I believed the true color of my urine to be red, but it finally became clear. I noticed under my backless gown that I had bandages and tape across my stomach and chest and they were tender to touch. I got up slowly, and shuffled to the sink to clean up a bit. I looked into the mirror.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> My face looked like a discolored image from a funhouse distortion mirror. It was odd shaped in places, my lips were split open and cracked, the corners of my mouth caked with dried saliva and blood from breathing with my mouth open. My left eye was completely swollen shut and had butterfly bandages and black string under and over it. Part of my left eyebrow was missing over the bridge of my misshapen nose, as if ripped off. My right eye looked surprisingly pretty, with only a shadow of bruising on it, and it was partially open. I tried to see my teeth, but opening my mouth hurt too much. My ears were red and sore looking, and I had a band aid over the top of my left ear. I felt lopsided, like my injuries were all on my left. In my head, I was glad, because being a righty, it would have taken forever to heal and learn to be a lefty. I was far from ambidextrous. Right now, I was just far from dexterous. Right now, I looked far from human.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I slid to the floor and reached for the toilet. I clutched the cold porcelain like it was a person and let out the sobbing that I had held back long enough to assess the damage in the mirror. I sobbed so hard I shook, and I could feel my ribcage protesting to the strain. Finally, I retched for several minutes, managing to bring up some very acidic bile and not much else. I rose to my feet, wiped my mouth with my bandaged hand and flushed the toilet. I patted some cold water to my face and emerged from the bathroom. My room was empty now. I guessed the roommate was making a walking round or getting tests. Maybe he was discharged. I didn’t know. I sat back on the bed and a nurse came in with discharge forms. Most of the lines were blank – who to contact, whose care I was released to, and residence. She told me to come back in two days, or go to the clinic to have my bandages changed for the next week. She was polite, but curt. She never looked me in the eye. I asked if the police had come, and she said no. I asked how I got there, and her answer was that someone called the cops to say I was in the street passed out drunk. They came to get me to “move along” and found a bloody mess. I stopped hearing her then. I tried to figure out what I was feeling. It was shame. She got up and walked out of the room, and the shame grew.</span><br />
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I had shame that I had no home now. I was ashamed I allowed myself to be beaten, because I thought I was pretty street smart. I was ashamed of why I was beaten. I really never thought I was ashamed of who I was. I was a lesbian. No problem for me. I had come to terms with it on the inside a long time ago, but it was a big problem for a lot of other people, and that DID make it a problem for me. I felt shame for wanting to hide what happened to me, but I did. I put on makeup at a Macy’s counter before I walked to where I worked to see if I still had a job. Luckily, I did. Unluckily, I hated it, and I hated myself for doing it – so I worked 3 more nights and slept in my car until I finally headed out to a town I was familiar with outside the city. I stayed with friends of friends, and in some shelters. I eventually healed on the outside, and found work in restaurants – surprisingly taking to the early morning routine of a cook very well. I then summoned the courage to move forward with my education, my relationships and my life. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> A lot has happened since that time in my life, and the details are not important. What is important enough for me to sit here today and write out for others to read, are the small revelations and details that allowed me to BE here today.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> After I sobbed into the toilet of the hospital, I vowed it was all over. I had nothing, and I had no one. I was an object at work, and a shell of a person the other hours of the day. I looked over my shoulder at every noise and lived a life of fear, both real and imaginary. I hid who I really was from everyone, and dulled my pain in drugs and drinking, hoping that every night I might go far enough to not wake up. I had allowed the actions of ignorant, hate filled people to fill me with despair and disgust at myself. They won. Long after the original beating, I was allowing them to beat me every moment of every day. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> There was no moment of glory, where the clouds parted and a wise person bestowed logical life lessons upon me that created a change. It was gradual, and personal, and spiritual from inside me. I overcame it on my own. I decided to surround myself with good people. I decided to be exactly who I was, and live that way. I decided that my family was important to me, and as long as they could accept me for who I was, I wanted to be fully involved in the family. I decided that I never wanted to feel that my life was not worth living ever again. I also decided that I was going to use my life to emulate hope in others that anyone and everyone was equal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I may have fallen short on some of that along the way, but the recent tragic events and subsequent deaths of LGBT youth caused me to remember that time in my life where I had nothing and no one in the face of bigotry and violence. I wanted to reach out and tell people who are suffering in silence that IT GETS BETTER. Not that day and not the day after. Whether you have a cheerleading squad of supportive friends and family or if you are alone – you are still a valuable human being on this earth with a soul and a purpose. I did it alone. You might not have to, but you could if you had to. Call one of the many support line numbers and talk to us. Reach out. Have discussions. Find yourself. Be yourself. Don’t allow anyone to take it from you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I think I was ugly and disfigured until I was bashed. I think I became beautiful when I saw it in myself – scars and all. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Think you can't make it? You can. Want help? It's here.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Physical, Emotional, Psychological and other types of attacks are not acceptable. Compassion and understanding are the only ways we will stop the cycle.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.thetrevorproject.org/suicide-resources/local-resources">http://www.thetrevorproject.org/suicide-resources/local-resources</a><br />
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1-866-488-7386Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-22706600244501695632010-10-01T07:37:00.000-04:002010-10-01T07:37:50.468-04:00It's & Day! Hello everyone. How are my minions? No? Well, if you see any, tell 'em I need my laundry done and the toilet needs scrubbing. Thanks.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Today is October 1, 2010. 10/01/10 I liked the look of it, and when strung together reminded me of binary code. 100110. Looks smart, right? Only problem is, it takes 8 digits strung together to make a letter. I did find, however, that these six create the ampersand symbol! So, Happy Ampersand Day!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">More importantly, It is 10/01/10, and Lisa is still dwelling on US soil! She has not gone to Ethiopia (yet). Things there are still up in the air, and no plans are clear, but I'm just happy she's still here. </div><br />
Yay! So, Happy Symbol-Used-By-People-Too-Lazy-To-Type-Out-"AND" Day!!<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHuCVC1GlwJ0h7VDSst41osWK1urhM8-lGFmdKudsZm95g6pCo1LLK8JIMiygBLfaV4tdn8R6gvMX60U6eV1QG42hEUQ4s-MtVZwsnglQ7BHfawsBeS-v-1I0U-fxcbMxE2tEewQ7Yvho/s1600/ampersand2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpHuCVC1GlwJ0h7VDSst41osWK1urhM8-lGFmdKudsZm95g6pCo1LLK8JIMiygBLfaV4tdn8R6gvMX60U6eV1QG42hEUQ4s-MtVZwsnglQ7BHfawsBeS-v-1I0U-fxcbMxE2tEewQ7Yvho/s320/ampersand2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">found at puntabulous.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-53742474451383603582010-09-22T11:24:00.000-04:002010-09-22T11:24:06.688-04:00Prepare Yourself - The DADT RantMy “Run Lola Run” Approach to the Current Political and Societal Conundrums in this Life.<br />
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<b><blockquote>I wish I was a princess/with armies at her hand<br />
I wish I was a ruler/who'd make them understand<br />
- Run Lola Run, “Running One”<br />
</blockquote></b>Lately, I feel like I am fighting against an invisible wall – one I can’t get through, and yet I feel insane fighting against it because most others are on the other side, watching me flail around while they either sit still doing nothing or fight against me. This line from Running One sums up how I feel about it pretty well. I’ll try to link the song soon. <br />
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Every person in this country (and others who have a vested interest) is being affected by the myriad of causes, bills, laws, and controversies currently evolving and devolving around us. I am completely disgusted by most of it. I am finding such a duality in this country. We claim to be this land of the free – then we limit the freedoms afforded to the very people both living in and defending the country. I am currently on a rant about DADT’s failed repeal. <br />
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I can sum up my position a bit better in a reply to a blog poster I encountered on Rachel Maddow’s blog. <br />
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<b>The comment I was responding to:</b><br />
<i>“If gays want to serve their country and they are loyal to the US Military, they should understand what disruption they would cause and serve without projecting their sexual preferences. It's being done now and it works”<br />
</i><b>My Response:</b><br />
How exactly is this working? Heterosexual soldiers fight for their country, and their pay and benefits extend to their family. If they should perish, their families are respectfully told and given death benefits. Homosexual soldiers fight every day beside them, in no less danger, but they cannot share the benefits with their family. If they die in the same manner, no one is respectfully told, and the spouse gets <b>no</b> death benefit - not even the benefit of their pain and loss being recognized by this great country they were fighting for. I am sad that they have to feel so much less of a person while devoting their lives to the very same country. This is simple inequality and bias. It's not onstitutional.<br />
And your argument is about showers? If all rules are plain and apply - no fraternizing, no sex, and no harassment among any soldiers - then I do not see the issue. It applies to everyone. If the rules are followed, there no problems other than the ones some self righteous and self important soldier might make for themselves in their own mind.<br />
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For the Full article and video, plus all the fun and not-so-fun comments: http://bit.ly/ciK8sV <br />
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There are such bigger issues inside the smaller ones, and my fear – my true, roaring fear is that this world is becoming unknown to me. What made sense once is gone, and logic is out the window. We’re all becoming pawns for other people’s agendas, and I’m learning that these other people are idiots and assholes. Time in this world is limited, and we need to do the best we can for everyone in it. I’m losing patience with intolerance. I am tired of people screaming that Gays can’t get equal (or “special”, as some call them) rights, because then people would be getting married to farm animals and aliens. Farm animals? C'mon! Lemme tell you, I sometimes wonder if it’d be easier to marry an alien but immigration has taught me otherwise! ;) Stop equating consensual love to bestiality or sex with an unwilling – unknowing - unable to protest animal. When someone tells you to <b>"Go fuck a goat!"</b> it's just slang for <b>"Fuck off!"</b> so please, if you are taking it literally, walk away from the poor thing. Why can’t we focus on what makes us all happy, and allow everyone to experience it. Historically, we’ve overcome the exact same bias of letting <i>interracial couples</i> marry, <i>foreign people</i> of <i>different cultures</i> marry, and people of <i>opposing religions</i> marry. So far, the world did not explode, and it has only expanded our human capacity for compassion and understanding, not to mention love. How is this any different? It’s not. So pull yer heads from yer arseholes and let’s focus on harder things – like how to get gum out of your hair or candle wax out of your mom’s favorite tablecloth after a family dinner!Ligiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6690228617597520947.post-45734801737944420972010-09-15T08:32:00.002-04:002010-09-15T08:32:26.732-04:00Airport RageI will beat your child<br />
Screaming, lunatic freakshow<br />
You taught no mannersLigiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10228384563560646063noreply@blogger.com0