I notice my blog has become bitchier in past months, as have I. You must understand, I am trying to keep it all under wraps. I know it's the allergies talking. I know being drugged to the gills (as if I have any, oh wait there they are) is wearing me down and I know fall is here and the pollen is almost gone. I use this blog as a vent, you see, so bear with me here.
I have hives from spring till fall.
To put yourself in my shoes:
Imagine spring comes, ah! Beautiful spring! Then you suddenly feel as if you have the flu, minus fever. Well, maybe a few hot flashes. But you ache all over, your head hurts, your are so godawful tired. You think maybe its a last minute bug left over from winter going around. But this feeling stays....for the next 7 months (I'm in month 6 now). After a few weeks of that feeling the worst part kicks in: HIVES. Now you're tired and sore and miserable and your head hurts and your body is sporadically covered in welts that itch and burn and sting all at the same time. It's a hideous burning stinging pain that you can't scratch away, no sir this ain't like chicken pox or even poison ivy, no, this is a thousand times worse. And it happens many times a day, day after day, for the next 7 months. Sometimes your throat closes up a bit, and you wonder if maybe you should go to the hospital, sinse your medical book says that you have now reached a life threatening stage of an allergy attack. But you cough and gag for a few minutes and drink a bunch of water....then the migraine kicks in. You seriously think about blowing your head off and think its a damn good thing you don't own a gun. The only relief? Massive amounts of allergy meds, which of course, make you more tired. But at least you aren't itchy. You walk around in a daze, aware of the fact you sound like a drugged moron but unable to do anything about it. You forget alot of shit. You have a constant nagging feeling you are forgetting something, and the fact is, you probably are. Everyone around you seems to be having a great time enjoying summer, but you? You're inside with air conditioning on, hoping it will filter out some pollen. Go for a walk? No thanks. Camping? Breathing in endless amounts of pollen for hours or days...sounds like hell. Pretty much anything you can associate with summer fun is now off limits for you. You come home and strip off your clothes and hop in the shower...washing off as much as you can so you can breath normally for a few hours out of the day. Can't sleep with pollen in your hair, you'll wake up gagging. Nothing stops the hives but medication, and it doesn't stop it, just takes the edge off. It still itches, it just doesn't burn and sting. But its a big difference when its your flesh, you know. Fall comes...everyone around you is lamenting summer. You could give a rats ass. If it were up to you it would snow 10 feet of snow, just to make sure everything that produced pollen was good and dead, or at least dormant till next spring. You wonder if maybe you should move to Antartica. I mean you really give it some thought, but finally decide you couldn't do your own hunting and would probably starve to death. Then you think that would save you that whole arduous diet you've been dreading.....but thats beside the point. You digress!

Thank God for Charlie telling me about NAET therapy. (I know I have permenant releif coming soon. I just can't get it done until the pollen is out of the air. You have to avoid the allergen for 25 hours.) I really was suicidal last fall. But that would leave my son to be raised by his idiot father, which is not an option. So, I stay. And I wait. It's not long now.

Next spring....will be the glorious season of my life. It's hard to imagine, but its true.

Glorious glorious fall, how I love you. I mean really, have I told you that recently? I know I take you for granted sometimes. I'm sorry. You... so beguiling with your crisp cool air, your blue skies, your ability to paint everything gold and red...you really are something. Others may dread you but I know...I see the real you. The inner fall, the one that signifies change. I do not fear you. I welcome you. You seduce me to wear fuzzy warm things, surround myself in warmth and let's not forget the apple cider, the hot chocolates of cold mornings.

And you make the pollen go away.

Ok. Thats really why I love you. But the other stuff is cool, too.

Aw geez....

Today I find an online petition in my Inbox. My stepdad sent it to me. I thought he was smarter than this, so I am surprised. It's a petition to stop the FCC from pulling the show "Touched By An Angel" off the air because it contains too much Christian references.
Please.
I am amazed any bought this hoax, much less signed the stupid thing and sent it on.

Has no one heard of www.purportal.com ? Urband Legends? Snopes? Does anyone else even check this crap out before sending it to everyone they know?
I mean, this one smacked of hoax! Some are at least a little more believable, but this one? Argh.

I've even sent out mass e-mails to everyone on my list telling them about Purpotal and sending the link and begging them to check the stupid shit out before forwarding it. Yet still I get these things, warning me someone is going to drug me and steal my organs and Bill Gates will send me $50 for every name I send something to and ALWAYS I get the Super Christians and their Super Petitions trying to save the world from the wicked Evil Atheists that are doing some such thing to lead us all the Hell.
These annoy me the worst, because somebody is sitting at their computer making shit up to freak people out, and all these gullible sheep sign the thing and pass on the fear. FEAR THE EVIL ATHEISTS! When really they ought to fear the jackass making this shit up to needlessly frighten them.

Lets put it in context, shall we?

On a whim , I decided to get a new screensaver. So I'm browsing the freeware screensavers and I find one I like. I download it. I try it out.
I'm not sure I can even convey the hilarity of this thing. The pitiful, pathetic hilarity.

It's a bunch of pictures of the Blue Ridge Parkway in the fall. Ok. The pictures were lovely. But it was the music!!! I heard it from the bathroom, where I was horrified to realize that wretched sound must be my new screensaver kicking in. It was some glam rock song from the 80's, and who sings it I don't remember, but I remember the chorus was,
"I'm on my way-ay-ay! Come set me free-ee-eee! Hoooooome sweeeeet hooooome!!!"
This is the song they choose to play to the background of the Blue Ridge Mountains in the fall.
I walk into the room, horrified. I see the latest picture on the screen is slowly changing colors, so all the leaves are changing from the normal colors to shades of electric blue and purple.
The worst part? It's not even the actual song, it sounds like a tone deaf person is playing it on an old Casio keyboard!
OH! The pain!
I removed it, promptly.
Are people that freaking weird?
I mean, here's our beautiful mountains, covered in brilliant fall foliage....gosh, that makes me think of playing some rock song from the 80's on my keyboard, poorly. While I'm at it, I'll make all the leaves change to black light neon blues and purples.
It's like, nature, but cooler dude! Saaaweeeet!

Will all car dealerships please stop telling us "All Credit Applications Will Be Accepted!!! Regardless Of Credit History!!!"

Some people may fall for this, but those of us that use our brains are irritated. Of course you would accept a credit application. You just won't approve a loan.

Duh.



My pet peeve numero uno:
Don't treat me like I'm stupid.

I had an odd dream last night. Well, I had a few. But this one was about me being engaged. Weirdly enough, one of my best friends gave me the ring. She said her and her boyfriend got it for me. And it was huge and beautiful. So I put it on, but then its weird because my boyfriend didn't actually get it for me, my friend did. And people are congratulating me on getting engaged but I'm not sure what to say. My boyfriend sees the ring and seems ok with it all, and thats weird too. Like, you'd let my friend buy me an engagement ring for you? How weird is that? His attitude about was he was ok with us being engaged, he just never got around to it or something.

Today I find his usual casual aloofness irritating.

What does this mean?

What is the purpose of jealousy?

Most emotions are, strangely enough, logical. At least, I understand them. I understand their purpose, and find them useful. (I sound like Data.) Anger, lust, happiness, grief, joy, sorrow, amusement...these things have purpose.

But what of jealousy?

Long ago, I wasn't jealous. I remember. Jealousy never ate a black hole in my heart. If my boyfriend wanted to hang out with other girls, I trusted him. It was never a question for me.

Then I met my sons dad. And I trusted him, God alone knows why. I guess it was so much a part of my being, I never thought twice. I suspected...after a while. He promised me it wasn't true...I believed him, because I wanted to. After a while I couldn't even believe that. My gut feeling was too strong. And I told him I felt like I was going insane, because my instinct has never been THAT WRONG. He tells me one thing but I feel the opposite. Finally I had proof.

I have never been the same.

melodramatic, you say? Well, there was 20 women by the time I had proof. He covered his tracks rather well, as an experienced liar is apt to do. This was all in a matter of two years, mind you. The man is not only a pathological liar, but a total whore. He was quickly dumped. But not before I came frighteningly close to killing him.
I really lost my mind for a while there. Not because he was a worthless sack of shit. I had long come to that conclusion, but we had a kid, so I had to give it every opportunity to work. I needed to do that, so I could walk away knowing I tried my best. No, I was enraged because I knew, and I told him I had this feeling, and that I felt like I was going nuts because my intuition is usually right. And I was right, and he let me lose my fucking mind over it and go on about his business.
Shortly after that, a man in town was charged with animal abuse, because the jackass tied his dog to the bumper of his car to "take it for a walk". Well, the dog got tired, and soon he was dragging this poor dog down the road, tied to his bumper. (The dog recovered and was given a new home.) When I read that article, I thought, THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I FEEL LIKE. Like I was just dragged along, long after it was healthy, way past it was abuse, just cruelly dragged along. He knew it was never going to work. Here I spent hours writing him these love letters trying to get him to open up, and he would come home and read them after spending half the night doing coke and getting his dick sucked my some skank he met at the bar. And me, trusting and clueless and feeling like something is terribly wrong but not knowing what it was. All I knew was I had never encountered this before: I had never hung out with people who did coke so I didn't recognize it. I just knew that something was WRONG.

So.

I moved on. Met the wonderful boyfriend I have now. But still.....sometimes I get hideously jealous. I try so hard to keep it under wraps, because I think it's wrong. There have been some bad moments....like when my boyfriend came home from his friends bachelor party. And somehow, just knowing he was looking at some nasty skanks hole just grossed me out beyond anything I can explain. I really really really wanted to smack him across the face as hard as I possibly could. It revolted me.
THIS coming from the girl who used to go to the strip clubs WITH her boyfriend.

What happened to me?

~sigh~
I don't think jealousy is an emotion. I think jealousy just describes the list of wretched feelings you have when you don't trust someone. The sinking feeling, the this-is-a-bad-dream-I-can't-get-out-of feeling, the ever widening searing hole in the pit of my stomach. Which is more an accurate description of fear, now that I think about it. Jealousy is fear, jealousy is a lack of trust which causes the fear.
And its so odd to me, because I trust my boyfriend. Deep down, I do. But sometimes I just get this nagging feeling, like a hissing voice in my head that says, "You trusted HIM, too, remember? And how well did that work out, you fucking dumbass? You wanna go through that again? You better pay attention, you better pay clooooooooooooooose attention...."

I swear, I think it might be post traumatic stress disorder.

Sometimes my mind is a rabid animal, foaming at the mouth and ready to bite anything in its path. Even itself.

In my Inbox today is this:

"We also often add to our pain and suffering by being overly sensitive, over-reacting to minor things, and sometimes taking things too personally." ~~~His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Thanks to beliefnet.com
You were right on time with that one.

I realize, in my allergy medicine induced haze, I have forgotten to send in my student loan payment. So I keep getting these calls that say, "This is the (people stupid enough to loan you thousands of dollars). All our operators are currently busy with other calls, please hold..." and I think:
If your operators are busy, don't fucking call me.
I mean, come on.
The last time they called I left the phone in the sock drawer. I realized hours later it was still there. Oops.

It's not the same thing, but reminds me SO MUCH of the telemarketers. Their retarded computer calls up and no one is there when you pick up the phone. Sometimes you stand there saying, "Hello? Hello?" like a jackass until the computer decides to hang up on you. (I really want to bitch slap that computer.) Other times they pick it up and I've learned you can always tell it's a telemarketer by them saying, "Hello?" as if it were a question. When you answer a phone you say, "Hello?" When you are the one calling you don't ask, you get on with it. So when I pick up and someone says, "Hello?" after a moment of silence, I take great joy in not saying a word. I like hearing them say, "Hello? Hello? Helllloooooo?" like a jackass, just like I just did when I answered the damn phone.
I've gotten crueler over time. I've learned that if I don't press the mute button, but continue to make noises in the background, they stay on longer. "Ma'am? Ma'am? Hello? Can you hear me?"
Yah, I can hear you. I just wanted to waste some of your day so you can see how it feels. Share the love.

Yesterday I'm driving through downtown and see a guy with his face all taped up to look like the mask from Hannibal. He's holding a cardboard sign like the homeless guys, but his says,
"Need Money For Chainsaw."

"Has your family tried the powered milk?
Has your family tried the powered milk?"

I've tried to watch I'm With Busey. (It's on Comedy Central.) I tried to give it a fair try. I did. But I have yet to be able to sit through more than 5 minutes of it without being filled with loathing. Well, loathing and confusion. Loathing for Gary Busey and confusion for the kid who would willingly hang out with him. It's gotten to the point now where they show commercials and it pisses me off. That is one show I will be glad when it dissapears. Sorry to the guy who likes Busey so much.

It's a beautiful thing when you are cleaning your house and find a $50 you forgot you had.

Aaaaaaaaaah, cleaning. I should do you more often.

Oh...my......

I'm reading an article about heroin smugglers in Michigan, and how one guy may have injested 100 pods of heroin. A pod, say police, is about the size of a hard boiled egg. Ingested....so one may reasonably deduce that this means the man swallowed the pods, and then retrieved them from the other end. Well. Not only can you be a fucked up drug addict, but you can cook and shoot up some heroin that was only recently shit outta some guys ass.

Thats lovely.
Just lovely.

The paomnnehil pweor of the hmuan mnid.

Aoccdrnig to rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in
waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is taht
the frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The rset can be a total
mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the
huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a
wlohe.

Amzanig huh?

~sigh~

Today in the grocery store, my son is running amok. I tell him to stop. He does...until the guy in line ahead of us starts talking to him. Then suddenly my son starts walking around and around the grocery cart, around and around and around....and I stick out my hand and say, "Whoa, what did I tell you about being still?" And my son comes around the cart and walks smack into my hand. Not hard. But he hits my hand with his mouth. I know this because I felt his teeth on my hand. It didn't hurt me, so I didn't think it was too serious till my son starts whining. He really is a thespian, so I don't take his mellowdramatics too seriously till he pulls back his lip and I see blood. Oh! Then I feel HORRIBLE. He wiggles his tooth! Then I feel a little better, ok, he's just got a loose tooth! He just knocked it looser on my hand. But still....I can't help but feel like some monster that just knocked my kids tooth out. He's crying, cause it hurts, he says. The people in line all feel bad for this poor little kid (whose mother just knocked his tooth out). I wouldn't feel quite so terrible except there is blood, for crying out loud, which I do not mention to my little thespian (who will promptly take to wailing as if his bones were sticking out if he is aware blood is involved).
We go home. I give him some Motrin. I let him have the sucker that I swore he couldn't have until after lunch. Of course, I said that BEFORE I knocked his tooth loose.
Let me be clear, I had my hand open, palm facing him, arm outstreched in a STOP sort of way. This wasn't my fist or anything.
But there was blood.....
A mothers guilt really knows no bounds.

Thinking again about The Ex Boyfriend That Turned Into A Heroin Addict.

Specifically, I was thinking about a lovely infection I am getting over, and how I took painkillers for the first few days (and antibiotics, but that's beside the point). By the third day I was no longer in pain (but still have lots of pain killers!) and decided to quit taking them. And suddenly EVERYTHING hurts, I assume from being spoiled by narcotics for a few days. All the usual aches and pains that I am used to suddenly seem magnified and horrible. I ache all over! I am miserable, but determined to see it out, since I am a strong willful bitch who refuses to be a drug addict, even for a week. Just because I have the medicine doesn't mean I should take it all. Well, the painkillers anyway.
I digress.
Another side effect I notice is that for a few days, I am unfazed. I do not have my usual spikes in emotion, I am calm. (I am also nauseas. Poo on narcotics.) This makes me realize how edgy I usually am. And I think I really want to go home and take some more painkillers and continue my happy little contented trip....
And then I think this is how people end up addicted! Because I like being not on edge, I like not feeling defensive, I like just floating along...

And then I thought of The Ex...and how uptight he was, how high strung he was, how paranoid he was (he claimed it was from growing up in Detroit, which I believed.) And I suddenly thought OH!!!! That's why he liked heroin so much! He would shoot up and suddenly he was vulnerable, but he didn't care. All the concerns he had were mute, not the usual screaming cacophony he put up with on an eternal basis. He used to tell me H reminded him of me, which I thought was sick. But now I think I get it. He meant when he shot up, he thought he felt like I must feel every day: happy, content, trusting....and back then, I was. I was naive. I trusted everyone. I was vulnerable. And even though he was constantly trying to train me to watch out for myself, he actually envied me.
14 years later, I am not trusting. Rarely do I give people the benefit of the doubt anymore. Now I am more like him than ever.

I wouldn't trade what I learned for anything. But...thats because I know my jaded wisdom has come at a high price. I know what I know because of the bad things I've been through. So...I would rather know what I know so I don't go through it again. Of course, if I didn't have the knowledge I do now, I would be happier; I would never had those experiences. So I would also be vulnerable to experience the same pain I have already learned. Which is better?

Back then, I had no idea what was coming.
No wonder he envied me.
Ignorance is bliss.

AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

Happy Talk Like A Pirate Day, me maties!

I was sitting in my truck the other day, and I glanced down at the newspaper sitting on the front seat. Suddenly, I noticed the shadows of the tree blowing in the wind, and the moving shadow is on my paper. So, I can read the headlines, or refocus my eyes to look at the dancing shadow. One is stressful, one makes me feel...joy, relaxed. The paper was not relaxing to read, but the shadows uplifting.
I sat there for along time, parked under that tree, and watched the shadows dance.

I hear on the NPR that the ATA is worried about the Do-Not-Call registry. They claim their business will be crippled. C'est La Vie, says me.
Telemarketers:
~I have had your job (my first job at age 14), so I speak from experience~
Your job is obnoxious.
People hate you.
Thats reality.
Get over it.
The world changes.
So does your employment.
Adapt or die.

The registry exists because people hate you THAT MUCH.

Your state of denial changes nothing.




Resistance Is Futile.

I read an article in the paper the other day about how the media affects us, yadda yadda yadda. Anyway, one note caught my eye. The author was discussing how singer Joni Mitchell came into her living room and was horrified to see her 5 year old grand daughter gyrating around and grabbing her crotch while watching a video on MTV.
Joni Mitchell starts a crusade against MTV.

She is horrified by what is on MTV?
She is horrified at how her grand daughter responds to what she sees?

Should she not be horrified instead that the girls parents are letting a 5 year old watch MTV????

Um, hellllllllloooooooooooooooo?

Yesterday I went to eat at one of my favorite Chinese food places. And I'm enjoying my meal until the waitress seats some guy nearby. He wanders off to the buffet and I notice this wretched smell and spit out my food, thinking something has gone really really bad. Then the smell goes away. After pondering the possibility of food poisoning, I figure it was a whim and go back to eating. By then the guy seated nearby is back from the buffet and the smell suddenly returns. I think it smells like a wicked case of Stinkfoot and think its simply not possible that I could possibly smell this guys feet through his shoes. I sneak a peek: sandals.

Ok.

I assume most people have brains. In case this is not so, let me state this now:

If you have a wicked case of Athlete's Foot, fix it. Take medicine. Go to the doctor if the over the counter stuff doesn't work. Bathe your feet in bleach if need be.
But DO NOT, under ANY circumstance, wear SANDALS and go into any public area where people may be trying to eat.

I may be forced to vomit on you.

You've been warned.

Checking out Hurricane Isabel: It's funny, how a gigantic storm can move so slowly. We've been hearing about this hurricane for days now and its still not here. Well, not here, it won't hit Asheville, but I mean the coast. I think if I lived there I would start to not take it seriously by the time it arrived. And that would be a mistake.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad it's slow, for the sake of the people who live there.

Ween was great, by the way.
I learned an interesting thing while there.
While waiting in line to get a beer, I started looking around. Ween fans are men, by majority. So theres a lot of guys to look at. And seeing as how I am in love, not blind mind you, I check to see if there are any particularly good looking guys. And while there were a few guys who were easy on the eyes, not one made me think, "If I were single......"
So I lean over to my boyfriend and (yelling over Ween) say, "Thanks for making me not single anymore!" And he smiles.
It's not that its a new thing. We've been together nearly 4 years now. But I'm glad that I love him enough that a crowd full of guys is not distracting. I really am SO glad to not be a part of the dating pool anymore.
And, you know, being in love is cool, too. (grinning)

Oh yes, I almost forgot.

KIA OF GREER! SHUT UP! I HATE YOUR SHOUTING COMMERCIAL! IT'S OBNOXIOUS! QUIT YELLING AT ME! I WILL NEVER BUY ANY CAR FROM YOU DUE TO THE FACT YOU LACK BASIC HUMAN INTERACTION SKILLS! SHOUTING AT PEOPLE IS RUDE!


KIA of Greer is located, presumably, in Greer, SC. Don't buy cars from them. If you must buy a car, remember to scream all the way through the transaction. They seem to like that.

Going to see Ween on Friday. Ween is one of those odd bands that sound totally different every time I see them. Maybe its the clubs. I'm not sure.
So this time they're playing at The Orange Peel, and I of course have never been there, living the hermit lifestyle I have the last few years. But I hear its very nice, and small. Which means it will be crowded. And maybe the band sounds better when its intimate, but its really a crowd of people I don't care to be intimate with, you dig? Thats part of the reason to be a hermit. An abundance of personal space. I used to be far more social. Then I realized the vast amount of people on the planet annoy the shit outta me.

So I'm in the bank today and one of the tellers is waiting on this little old lady. The lady realizes the teller is pregnant and say to her, "Oh! Dear! You're expecting! Is this your first?" in the sweetest little old lady way. And the girl says yes it is, and the old lady says, "You'll be so happy dear! You're lives will be filled with happiness!" And I think either this lady has never had kids or she's forgotten what it was really like. And if it's the latter, how happy. I will look forward to be an old lady, where I forget all the pains and tribulations of life and instead remember a rosier version. How lovely indeed.

I've been reading about Parkisons disease and stem cell research. I, for one, am for stem cell research. And I don't really understand why anyone would be against it. In the case of using test tube embryos- they're going to be destroyed, you know, the "extra" ones. For the pro-lifers, that means killed. So whats the big deal with using them to find a cure for horrible debilitating diseases? And when we're talking about stem cells being used from abortions, well...at least something good can come of tragedy.

I can see why people would feel strongly against it, if they beleive that you only get one chance, God puts you here once and your soul goes into your body at the moment of conception. And then thats it. But long ago I gave that consideration (while going to church with my parents as a teenager) and decided it didn't make sense. Why would God do that to people? You get stuck in a body and then your Mom miscarries (or has an abortion) and sorry, thats it. That was your chance. Bummer you never even got to be born. Well, at least you never had a chance to mess it up and get sent to hell, right? Sinse you're still an innocent, you go to heaven? Sorry you never got to experience that whole "being alive" thing. Oh well.
Does that make sense to you?
And what of heaven? How many people fit in this place? If you only live once (and there are HOW many people on our planet?), and more people being born and dying all the time, in the course of all of history, lets add that up....that would be a bajillion or so people floating around in heaven. For all eternity. Or hell, if you screwed up. Or killed yourself, according to the Catholics.

Which brings me to another rant, although I would like to state that I had no intention of discussing religion at the start.....

The many variations of the same religion irks me. Ok, I understand the difference between Muslim and Christian and Jewish, etc., but in the Christian faith, there are plenty of discepencies between. Why? Why do people believe the same general idea but then everyone has their own little twist? They all believe in Jesus. Ok. But then they all beleive Jesus said this or that, and this group thinks that group is going to hell because of this and that and its all ridiculous. I quit going to church as a teenager when I found out King James had a bible created for himself. He had his own version made to fit his beleifs. Well, thats just dandy. Here's this book I've been raised to believe is the allmighty word of God, and there is no arguing with that, and then find out man has tainted it who knows how many times with his own definitons, colored the translations into his own beliefs...
And that caused a chain reaction of thought and I quit going to church.
Oh, I still beleive in God. And I think Jesus was way cool (to qoute a great King Missile song). I also think whatever Jesus had to say has likely been so twisted the likliehood of me ever knowing exactly what he really said is close to nil. And I have a very difficult time going to church and swallowing it all....when so much of it is so questionable.
Likewise, I have no problem NOT going to church and staying home and finding God in my own way. If anything, I think it's made His voice louder. Once I quit going to church I had to actively seek Him, not get my weekly dose and forget about it till next Sunday. And when I stopped having someone tell me how I should behave, I had to figure it out on my own. You know whats funny? Except for a few things, my code of behavior is strikingly similiar to that which I was taught. And I have to laugh when I realize I act far more Christian than a whole lotta Christians out there. Except that I live with my boyfriend and cuss like a sailor when I'm mad.
Oh yah. And I beleive in reincarnation, which my Methodist upbringing frowned on. Like I was saying earlier, I don't think God has all these bajillion people as souls living in heaven or the devil has the rest in hell. I believe we get one soul at the start, our conception of being- and you can say thats at the hand of God or our midiclorians forming, I don't care- and we come back however many times we need to, to get it right. And then maybe we come back for fun, or for teaching (like Jesus, like Buddha, like all the great teachers of all the religions?). I don't beleive there is a hell, persay, but I do believe in pergatory. I believe if you screw life up enough you stay in a kind of stasis to think it through, however long it takes. And if you find that to be torture, well, there ya go. Likewise, I think when we experience tramaic deaths or lives, it may be awhile before we feel ready to come back. But in death we are close to the light, to our source, to God, if you will. We are in our purest form, and that is heaven. We are trancsended, we are light, we are one, we are soul, we are enlightened.
Makes sense to me. I'm not here to argue about it. You beleive what you want.
And if you can, support stem cell research. I think the stem cells are ok about bringing about miracles for the people still alive.
Oh, and go donate blood. The Red Cross is at a freaky depletion level.

I googled an ex boyfriend. From the 7th grade! It's funny, we've e-mailed back and forth, and seeing someone you last saw at 12 is odd. I got an e-mail from one of my best pals in the 7th grade a week or two before, and it's like 7th grade flashback time or something. At any rate, both of them are doing fabulous, and its just so awesome to know someone you knew back then is doing good and is happy. It's like a freakin warm fuzzy or something. And both of them are boys...at 12, boys aren't really in the throes of puberty yet, you know? Well, throes maybe but their bodies haven't quite caught up. So now I have pictures of both of them and how they look today, and it's actually startling. The wide jaw, the sharp features, the eyes are the same but the creases around them have changed...the facial hair, for crying out loud! Neither had that in the 7th grade! Both of them WAY taller than in 7th grade. It...kind of *tweaks* my heart. I'm not sure why. Maybe cause I have a little boy, who one day will be big and strong and manly, too. I don't know, but it's that kind of feeling. A tenderness. A happy kind of sorrow, somehow. It's like I just want to say, "Well, look at ya! All grown up now..." and pinch their cheeks or something.

And then I was making dinner and got to thinking about the ex boyfriend and how he moved away that year. And how, maybe if he didn't move away, I wouldn't have been single when that boy from Florida moved to our school. And maybe he wouldn't have paid attention to me if I had a boyfriend. And maybe, then I wouldn't have lost my virginity when that little bastard raped me. Maybe I would have given it up to the boyfriend, although at 13 I seriously doubt I would have been ready. God knows I sure wasn't when it happened. But just for a minute I thought about how different my life would have been if I gave my virginity to a boyfriend, instead of having it stolen like that.
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Would you believe, in the 15 years that have passed sinse then, I have never had that thought cross my mind before? I've never wondered what it would have been like any other way. And so, in that moment of me pondering it, I saw myself go an entirely different route than the one I've chosen in life sinse that day. And I couldn't even imagine what it is. It was like watching myself wander down a path that led into darkness, or at least I couldn't see what was there. But the Me that was walking that direction could, and She wasn't worried. She was really happy. She was happy in a non-traumatized childhood-innocence-remained-intact sort of way. I think...I think I had forgotten what that felt like. I had forgotten Her long ago.
And sitting here thinking about it, well.....all I can do is weep for Her, and mourn Her death.

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I wonder if there is a way to bring Her back.

It's time for the talk about the birds and the bees.

Didn't think my son would be asking these kind of questions till, I don't know, adulthood? I mean, he's six. But, after trying to explain some basics I figured I needed some diagrams, so I went to Downtown Book and News and bought Changing Bodies, Changing Lives, and after checking this book out, I must say I am damn sorry my parents didn't give me this book. Every kid should have this book. It's by the same authors of Our Bodies, Our Selves.
Wish I had that kind of information when I really needed it.

There are many times I will get online thinking about something in particular, something I want to look up or check out, but then I get lost and wander around, much like going to Wal-Mart at 2am. And I'm wandering around looking at stuff thats actually rather boring and I'll suddenly snap to and think, WHAT AM I DOING HERE?
I don't know.
I just don't know.