"It's from a movie!"

Today I needed a ride to my mom's job because my doctor appointment... blah blah blah.

I had to ride with Becky and her friend.

They watched "The Hangover" last night.

Within a couple minutes, Becky used the word "retarded" (or "retard") in a derogatory manner. ("That's so -" or "You're such a -") I objected and asked her not to use that word.

Her response?

"It was in the movie!"

It wasn't even a clever insult using derogatory, cruel language. Just a plain ol' insult. Used everywhere. (They also said other things from the movie about casinos - nothing funny to me, the third party who hadn't seen the movie. If you're going to quote a movie, shouldn't you use a funny or interesting quote to make somebody want to see it and not just go "Hee hee we have an in-joke!")

I didn't tell her this, because she doesn't care. But I wanted to say it. And hey, here's my blog. (She would see it if I said anything on Facebook.)

If you quote a movie, you are endorsing the use of the language in the quote. If I watched the Hangover and liked it, I would like it despite the use of the word "retarded." I would not go around using it, saying it's the movie. This was a phrase my sister liked and felt comfortable saying.

I can analyze a character's use of a word or bigoted thinking without endorsing it. (The difference between agreeing with the sexist BS on "The Simpsons" and analyzing it.) And I think that just repeating it is an endorsement. (Of course, you could be repeating it to go "WTFOMG can you believe they said that?" But that's not what happened.)

Another thing - using song lyrics as a status on Facebook, or anywhere else. My sister and my cousin and some friends do it all the time. I hate it. Some of the lyrics are disturbing, so my mom will ask her about it. "It's just a song!" If you felt comfortable enough to repeat it, you better be ready to explain it.

To sum up - do not hide behind the fact that you are using someone else's words when you say something offensive. You felt comfortable repeating it, that is the problem.

Mikey and his Snuggie

Yes, it is an official Snuggie brand Snuggie.

He adores it, or he doesn't mind it. He got so much praise when Beck put it on him!

It doesn't restrict his movement, though sometimes he freaks out because it's on his tail.

I bought it as a gag gift for Christmas. Maybe for Mikey, maybe for Wickett. Well, Mikey is shaved nekkid and he was helping us open presents, so he got it! Now he looks naked without it.

He is too much.

As for humans and Snuggies - Becky got a fashionable one - the zebra print one. She doesn't dance like they do in some of the ads, no matter how much I ask.

My sister has a clone

Michelle Was Also Amazed With the Ewok/Koala Exhibit

Fat preppy girl: Oh my god! Is that a rhinoceros? I didn't know they still existed!
Friend: Yeah, that's one right there.
Fat preppy girl: But I thought dinosaurs were extinct?

--Bronx Zoo

Headline by: JohnAustin

Runners-Up:
· "Apparently, You've Never Watched "The View"" - PeterG
· "No, Just My Faith in Our Education System" - Jeff
· "She Thinks That About Salads Too" - Tom
· "That Would Explain Why the Hippo Looked So Real!" - Pat
· "This Is a Creationist Zoo" - Coyoty
· "Why Didn't You TELL Me We're in a Museum?" - Emily Leonard
· "You're Confusing It With the Do-Ya-Think-He-Saurus" - Skug Skellum


Click here to see the new Headline Contest

via Overheard in New York, Apr 23, 2009


Seriously - that girl thought rhinos were extinct for the longest time.

My sister's made it to Alabama!

Aristotle's Really More Of an American Eagle Dude
Girl #1, leaving the mall: Go to Aero... Ari... Aristotle.
Girl #2: Aristotle is not the same thing as Aeropostale.
Girl #1: Then where did I...?
Girl #2 (interrupting): History. You learned about Aristotle in history.
Overheard by: Ashley
via Overheard Everywhere, Jan 26, 2009

She would so say something like this.

If she'd ever heard of Aristotle.

BEARS!

When I first saw this picture, it was being used as the wallpaper on the computer, centered on a black background. I thought it was a professional picture.

My sister took this in New Mexico in early April (I wasn't missing school) and I love it. No, I don't know who those two kids are.

Yeah. See, beck asked me if I'd mentioned this here, since I love it so much, and well, I didn't have a good excuse not to. So here it is.

The heat is so not cool.

I'm on this pain patch so I can get constant pain relief while keeping my mental facilities.

It's great.

Only...

Yesterday at 9, my mom put on a new one, with a Tegaderm tape patch that is just bigger than the patch itself. The pharmacist gave us the first one free. That's important.

Anyways, the patch means I can do things I couldn't before - like ride my bike to the library when I want to. And the library is open, they've already not checked in a book I turned in, so I now check them in before checking new ones out, so I know it's checked in.

I didn't go yesterday because my lower abdomen/pelvic area was hurting, almost at 10, a number of times, and the bleeding (breakthrough) had increased.

Today, though, little pain, no bleeding since 5 AM... and I got my meningitis and hepatitis shots today - they're recommended by the University, but not required yet. They probably will be soon. I got mine for free, no appointment needed, because we went on base. So cool.

My mom and sister went to the base yesterday to find about getting a day pass (before September 11th, everyone could use the base as a shortcut), and dealt with a lazy, young asshole. And at the clinic, they dealt with another person who went out of his or her way not to help.

Well, we waited about 20-30 minutes for a pass, and the lady got us a pass good for a year! Mom just needs one of us with her (her name is the only one on it, so she and Beck can do some tax free shopping at the NEX). She was so nice.

And then we didn't have to wait at the clinic, just go down to the immunization room. The guy was young and nice and clearly loved his job.

I got the shots through an air gun type thing. Scary looking as hell, but no more pain than a normal shot, less, because it was so quick. He said it used CO2.

It was like a piercing gun!

Afterwards, we came home and lounged, and after Jeopardy (I won all the money), I decided to ride my bike to the library. I'd gotten a call yesterday saying a book I'd ordered had come in. Both were there when I got there, cool.

I've stopped taking my water bottle, because if I drink at the 2 red lights I must cross (they change before I'm halfway across, grr), the light will change and I will hold people up.

Plus I could get my books or purse wet.

And I don't think it's allowed in the library, not that they've said boo.

So I got home at 5, face as red as a tomato painted red.

Tuesday, I went to the library as well, and when I got home, Becky told me I had to take a shower. I was wearing a bright red shirt that was pale in comparison to my face.

So today, I took a cold shower.

And my patch...

It hadn't fallen off, I still had to pull it off, but it was useless - the tegaderm patch and the medical tape did nothing - water got in, bad scene.

By the way, I passed a time and temperature sign before crossing the street into my neighborhood at 5, and it was 100 degrees and so damn humid.

Anyways... my point is... the patch is supposed to let me do things, but not if it can't survive body movements or sweat!

I can't go outside until the doctor appointment Monday afternoon - no bike rides, no yard work. Oh, the sadness... actually, that's a clear conscience, mom's recovering from surgery, I'd lose my patch, I'll keep you hydrated Becky, I promise.

Actually, she mows the yard really fast since Mom says she doesn't have to bag it. An hour for both, at most, and we're mowing our neighbor's front yard as well. (They connect.)


So this patch is working very well on the pain, but I can't do anything or I'll lose it!

That sucks.

And we don't know where to put the damn thing - we started with the stomach - the site of the pain.

It peeled so much, it wouldn't stick to the curve of my abdomen even with a complete covering of tape, which we're worried is a bad idea, it needs to breathe I think.

The back's been the best, because if it's too low or too far from the center, it can peel up.

My mom thinks we should try the arm and wrap it up in something, but I doubt it would stay on the rounded arm.

We'll find out more Monday.

It's been a month since I should have gotten my last Lupron shot - it was a 3 month amount. And it's a 6 month drug, with 3 months off, I think.

So I'm fatigued, nauseous, and my lower abdomen hurts a lot after using the bathroom, at least since the 13th except today.

Not to mention the bright red breakthrough blood. I'm on birth control, I shouldn't be bleeding.

And when I was on the Lupron, when I stopped the birth control, more breakthrough bleeding!

So it has to be both...

I don't know...

I hate summer.

I have a plan for my dorm room - the one I stayed in at orientation had ugly pink carpeting, but it was pretty low plush and not more than three-quarters dog hair and pee.

A book I had on college from 1994 or 1995 (Some schools have an e-mail system! Ooh! More teachers want typed papers! Ooh!) had an idea for your dorm room - apparently, most have cold tile floors, which is bliss in the summer, at least to me. I mean, I've laid down on the kitchen floor because it was so hot - last summer, during the first Lupron treatment, I slept on carpet and a floor vent at my Aunt's house.

Anyways, the book said get a carpet remnant or throw rug to warm up your cold floor.

So I got to wondering...

Can I get an area of tile to cover my carpet?

It's an idea.

Another thing from the book that I loved - be glad you're homesick! It's a compliment, a sign your home is loving.

My sister and I will be homesick.

My mom and her siblings and my dad and his siblings wanted the f!ck out of there as soon as they could. Mom missed the house, not the home.

However, dad doesn't think it's good, when you're 18, you're out on your ass, health problems or no, or in my sister's case, not having finished high school...

Whatever...


I can't wait for Halloween, it gets kind of tolerable around then.


My point? I left Iceland around Christmas '94, when I was six, and I still miss the snow.

Mom was 32, she has clear memories of it, and she's not a fan of the heat here, but she doesn't want to live in Iceland - the whole darkness all winter long made her so depressed, she never got out of the house - dad had work, I had school...

I still miss the snow.

It's so easy to warm yourself up, but so hard to cool down.

And humidity.

I'm so glad I don't care about my hair beyond washing and brushing, nothing to worry about thanks to the moisture, while Becky frizzes out and freaks out.

Gotta love her.



Yeah, I rambled.

Got a problem with that?

The Devil Wears Prada

The other book I got Saturday. It cost a bit more (fifty cents!), but it was worth it. And unlike The Skin I'm In, I'm keeping it.

The Devil Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger is a great, funny book that did not disappoint me in any way.

I'd checked out The Nanny Diaries and Citizen Girl from the local library last fall, and I was so disappointed in them. They sucked. They were told in first person, present tense, something that I notice if I don't like the book I'm reading. (Basket Case by Carl Hiaasen and everything by Sophie Kinsella are examples of ones I do like that way, because of great characters and a good story.)

They were also incredibly pretentious, at least to me. Why? The employers in both books were not named, save for an 'X'. That annoyed the shit out of me. It's a fictional novel! FICTION! NOT REAL. No one gives a damn what their names are, you're not 'protecting' anybody! Make something up, dammit. I gave Nanny Diaries too many pages, and gave up on Citizen Girl much, much quicker when I discovered it was the same thing.

But I'm sure others like them - one's being made into a movie, someone must like it. Who knows? I may give them another try one day.

I was worried The Devil Wears Prada would be the same thing. If it was, it would go to the Crisis Center with The Skin I'm In, but for different reasons.

It wasn't. It was told in first person, but in the past tense. The main character was likable, and her boss had a name, as did the (fictional) magazine she worked for. Everyone had a name, except for her friend's many boyfriends, but they were not X's and for that, I am thankful. Johnny Depp made an appearance at a party! He didn't say anything to Andrea, the main character, but he was there. I doubt he'll be in the movie.

Andrea Sachs gets a job the November after graduating from Brown as Miranda Priestly's junior personal assistant. She's told that if she can make it a year, she can get almost any job in the publishing world she wants. (The New Yorker, in her case.)

It's incredibly funny and sad, but it's a great book.

Miranda does nothing for herself, and expects her assistants to practically read her mind 30 minutes before she asks them to something. Her favorite thing to do is to send them or some other peon on a wild goose chase getting everything just so, and then changing her mind. She also expects the impossible - that her assistant Emily can get her a private chartered flight at midnight on Saturday because the weather interfered with her original flight. She can't, of course, and the airline had already booked her with their first flight out the next morning. When Miranda discovered that she would not be flying until the morning, she was still pissed. Her flight was going to leave at 6:50, but another woman had a flight to New York leaving at 6:35, I think on a different airline!, but she had to get out first. She got it, of course, and the best part to the beleaguered assistant - it got in 8 minutes later than the original!

She also expected Andrea to be there at the time on the itinerary, not 30 minutes later because her flight was delayed and she had to go through customs. Reality matters not to her.

Two mind-reading tasks that were especially bitchy - find a dresser at an antique store in 'the '70s'. She didn't give a cross road or even tell Andrea what side of the park she meant. When Andy asked her, she told her she'd given her the address, she's so forgetful. The address was on 68th!

She also told her that she wanted reservations at an Asian fusion restaurant that had been reviewed in yesterday's paper. "That's all." Andrea called every single New York newspaper and none had done a review on an Asian restaurant that met Miranda's standards. When she asked for clarification (something you never do), she was told that she'd been told 6 times that it was the Post.

The New York Post had nothing. When she asked again, she was told that she'd been told a dozen times that it was the Washington Post, could she be any stupider?

I was surprised she lasted as long she did. They were never allowed to leave the office unattended in case she called or someone called and she was there and had to take the call.

There is something I worried about - that what Emily (the senior assistant) was saying was true, that you don't get to the top of the world by being nice. That is true, but Miranda was a lazy, lying bitch who abused everyone who did everything for her. She may have been a creative genius, but that didn't mean she should treat everyone like shit, though she could because she's Miranda fuckin' Priestly.

While she was in the office, everyone was expected to dress like a super model - down to uncomfortable shoes. But Andrea was expected to make many Starbucks or other errands on foot. She got chewed out for wearing comfortable shoes by her boss.

Luckily for her, there were clothes provided for free when they were 'out of season' (hadn't even hit the stores yet) along with foot-killing shoes and fashionable purses. When the movie came out, there was an article in the M section about the movie and how she was working at a fashion magazine, she should dress appropriately. Reading this and remembering that made me want to barf. The writer had based it solely on the movie, not the book.

Andrea only got the job in the first place because she'd just had a bout of dysentery and weighed 115 pounds on 5'10 frame. Along with her desire to work in journalism. And she was promised that a year in Runway hell was the same as 5 years as a peon at a less prestigious publication. So she wanted to learn the fashion ropes.

The stress of the job prevented her from eating most of the time, so she never regained her pre-illness weight. She was the only one 'brave' enough to eat the soup in the cafeteria. The soup chef refused to make any soup low fat, low carb, low anything. Loaded with calories, but the stress prevented her from becoming a 'cow'. Everyone else ate salads, if anything, and complained about their weight.

Miranda ate as well, and one lunch time pissed me off. Andy had to rush around to get her 'usual' food and took too long. (Since she was the junior assistant, she had to run errands. She used the errands as a chance to smoke, talk to her boyfriend, and give away Starbucks drinks on the building's dime. She could charge everything to them - even the two daily taxi rides. She was not a native New Yorker and had no idea where the building was at first and then she had to wear fancy clothes and killer heels, so it was better to ride in a cab. And it was expected by the company!)

So she rushed to get back, and place it just so on Miranda's desk. Miranda came back to the office and got incredibly pissy. Why? In the time between yelling at Andy and coming back to the office, she'd already eaten and Andrea should have known that, even though she didn't bother to tell her.

When her coworker got sick (mono - highly contagious), Miranda had to talk to the doctor before she'd believe it - and she insisted mono wasn't a 'real' disease.

The book is perfectly funny, and I wish it was longer.

I want to rent the movie next time we do that to see how it compares. For one thing - the casting is wrong, judging by the shot on the back of my copy. Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway have healthy bodies. I don't think Meryl's a size 0.

I'll see how it matches up and report back. Expect something long and bitchy if it doesn't, and something short and sweet if it does.

A side note - I have no idea what magazine the author is mocking, or who she's mocking. I know some of the designer's names, but that's about it.

I think my sister would like it, but she said, before I could finish the sentence - "Never gonna read it."

"I'm gonna make a book called Never Gonna Read It, dedicated to you and it'll be all about how to be a super-duper genius success."

"Never gonna read it."

She pisses me off sometimes - I know she's not a reader, but she does have two favorite series - Gossip Girl and the A List. She begged me to give the first GG a try, and I did. I hated it, but at least I tried.

She never bothers.

I'm currently rereading Alas, Babylon. I had to read it in 9th grade, and made my homebound teacher mad because after a slow, "I-hate-this-tripe" start, I raced through it. Whoops. I'm always doing that. That really sucked in 10th grade when we read 1984, because we read along with an audio CD that was so slow.

I'm awaiting a Devil Wears Prada-type book about MAD. Good Days and Mad by Dick DeBartolo isn't cutting it anymore. (As I don't have it.)

The Skin I'm In

I found two great books Saturday at two different yard sales. (My mom bought a bike at yet another.)

The Skin I'm In by Sharon Flake is an adolescent book, and it captures all the pressures of middle and high school that my sister went through, as did I, to a much lesser degree. It's also an 'African-American' book in that the main character and most of her classmates are black, but I still identified. I was also shocked at the cruelty toward the main character - just because her skin is darker than everyone else's. I've heard of that before, but it still doesn't make sense to me.

It's not a sad book, but most of it makes me sad - the way Maleeka goes along with the other kids in picking on the teacher and getting into a lot of trouble. Thankfully, she learns what really matters by the end of the book, after a disastrous exercise in peer pressure.

The book starts when a new English teacher arrives at Maleeka's middle school. The book is told in first person present tense, something that often rubs me the wrong way, but didn't this time. The present tense part, not the first person thing. If I don't like a book (The Nanny Diaries) it grates on me until I give up. But if I like a book, it's natural.

The teacher is a former advertising executive who decides to teach when the school system starts a program for executives to teach without getting teaching certificates. Everyone hates her because she makes them do a lot of work, but I got the feeling if they'd STFU, they'd learn something - Maleeka did.

One thing that really resonated with me was her intelligence. She's in 7th grade, but can easily outdo a 9th grader when it comes to math and she's a gifted writer. I like to think of myself as smart, but I never felt pressure to dumb it down. That is something that bugs me about school - no one wants to look smart, even in the honors and AP classes! This week is Gateway Testing week at the high schools, and most teachers won't do a thing, they can't, because their schedules are messed up and most have students taking a state test. The Gateway tests sucked. They were not timed, but you couldn't bring a book to read when you were done, and you couldn't leave early. When I had to take the English 2 test (my last Gateway), I used my 504 health plan and horrible skin infection that had pretty much cleared up as a reason not to sit for 3 hours doing nothing but sweating and itching. I got to take it in a little closet-like room with a window off the guidance office and checked out after I was done. There's a lot more leeway with the End Of Course tests - they're required to graduate, but you can leave early or bring a book. (I left early both times.)

The thing that pisses me off? My sister had to sit in the cafeteria for 3 hours today because her 1st period teacher was giving a test and the classroom was being used. The class is a senior class she was put in instead of study hall (they told her that sophomores had to have parental permission for study hall. She got the note. She didn't get study hall.), so she had no one to talk to.

It was very boring.

I know she doesn't like to read, but come on! It would not have killed her to take a Gossip Girl or Cosmo in, it would have killed the time.

No one can complain about having nothing to do in school if they know how to read, have books, and are allowed to bring them.

Back to Maleeka - I got the feeling that she hated being so smart, because it let another girl exploit her and made her an outcast. She went to a typical poor school - no one gives a damn, and when someone tries (the new teacher), they're attacked.

And this was written in 1998, before NCLB.

Oh! The title. She comes to terms with the deep color of her skin, and that made me extra happy. In the book Pledged, there was a snippet about a black sorority that had the 'paper bag test'. If a pledge's skin was darker, she was out.

White is the norm and non-white people, especially women, have been trying to be as white as possible for too damn long. I make the point of describing everybody's race - even the white guys. It's just me, but it's a step.

Maleeka was 'inferior' because her skin was dark, even though a number of people thought it was beautiful. (The teacher is one, much to Maleeka's chagrin.)

She was inferior to the other black students who had lighter skin, because white skin is still the ultimate goal. Unless you're white, then you want to be tanned all year. (Not me - too long in the sun and I turn beet red, usually from overheating, but sometimes from a burn and it doesn't fade to a tan, it fades to white.)

That's just wrong, but I don't know how to correct it. I've never picked my friends by the darkness of their skin, more the personality and interests and will they talk to me than anything else. The hottest guy my senior year, to me at least, had dark skin and the most amazing dreads. And, despite his popularity, he talked to me.

Back to the book - I got it for a dime at a yard sale (black family) because I'm always interested in books from the 'abnormal' perspective. (Not white, not male, not Christian, not American... I could go on.) Since it was a kid's book, it looked like an easy read and not a waste of a dime if I didn't like it.

And I do.

However, I don't want to read it again. I'm taking it to the Crisis Center next time I go. (Supposed to go today, but Lois was sick and I was in crippling pain. I'm not now, I'm on a 100mcg patch instead of 2 25mcgs. It kicked in within the hour. Awesome.)

Why the crisis center?

Goodwill sells their books, we don't.

Most of our clients are black, and most have children. I hope another girl, black or white or whatever, gets it and feels good after reading it.

Wickett and his Becky

I have Becky's permission to use these.

I do not have Wickett's.

I hate my cell phone.

It gets hot when I use it too long, and the speakerphone option is not loud enough for me to set it down and still hear the person.

While my mom and sister's identical, newer, slimmer cell phones may get hot, everyone in the room - or car - can hear both sides of the conversation, while on mine, I'm lucky to hear both if I'm called from a cell.

Yesterday, it shut down twice in a twenty minute conversation - important! With a friend of my mom who's married to a dean at the U of M. I finally made the sacrifice and got offline to talk to her from our house phone, which won't die on me.

When I was in Washington, I would keep it charged all night and it would die if I called my mom (since it was a Memphis cell phone calling a Memphis cell phone, it wasn't too expensive).

I keep that thing charging all day and all night, and it still dies on me if I have the gall to use it for more than a few minutes unplugged. Oddly, it doesn't shut down when I'm texting, or trying to.

I've been taking the charger to the Crisis Center with me, since I work at a computer with a mostly empty surge protector, I can let the bastardly thing charge all day.

And then there's texting. I hate hate hate hate hate texting on a phone pad. I always swore I wouldn't text unless I had a traditional QWERTY keyboard.

But I have to, because texts are better than voicemails for my family, and texts can go places that calls can't.

Like into my mom's high school. Her job's babysitting with no fridge privileges, because the student will sleep for hours due to her meds or just do nothing because of the meds and the illnesses.

So she has plenty of time to text me.

And it is the only way to tell her something during the day - we had a doctor send her a fax to the school (the same letter being sent to the U of M to say why I've been home this past year.) and the lady who gets the faxes threw it away, because "We don't have a student named Kaitlyn Monkey Trumpets. Or one named Pennie Monkey Trumpets."

Anyways, I hate texting, but I have to.

We have 'emoticons' to use - they're pretty cool.

And a thing called T9word, where you hit 223 and get the word 'bad'. It has an odd vocabulary - it recognizes Dixie, Becky, and Mikey, but not simpler words - I can't think of any right now, I'm in horrific pain. So sometimes it's harder to use than hitting the key until you get the letter you want.

I hate text messaging.

My mom's a tech dinosaur - she hunt and pecks at the keyboard, while I can type this looking at the computer screen. She's the dinosaur, and she loves texting!

Of course my sister does, she's a normal teenager.


Oh man, I'm in a lot of pain. I don't like this.

My sister and I just have an odd relationship.

That is her attempt to get a picture of us together at the bowling alley the 12th. That's the one with the most of her face. She's great with a camera usually, but she just couldn't get a picture of herself!

Anyways, today we were screaming at each other and a few minutes later getting along fine.

She's going on a trip next weekend and she was thinking of burning songs from the computer onto a CD, only she didn't have a CD player that doesn't skip. (My old one.)

And I offered her the headphones of my mp3 player and then I decided to just let her use the player for the whole trip.

Why?

I have no idea.

My plan is to empty it of all my songs, then when she's asleep or at school, put her songs (she'll try to make me a list - over 200 songs) on it. When she gets back, remove her songs, put mine back on. Easy.

Here's the player - I like to call it an iPod, and mom calls all mp3 players iPods and it drives Mom wild. It was a lot cheaper than an iPod and it has 1GB of storage. It can also play radio stations, but I can't get that to work. One thing that is better about the iPod is that you can have playlists. This just takes what you upload, jumbles it up, and keeps the songs in that order. Still better than a CD player or nothing.

Dixie and her Car

The Tigers are in the Elite Eight!

For the second year in a row, according to the liberal media, but I actually saw the last few moments, so I know the truth and the truthiness.

They're playing Ohio State on Saturday. It would have been awesome if the University of Tennessee had won that game! (By one point, which is how many points Texas A&M was behind at the end. Close, close games.) My sister said people had on Tennessee pants and Memphis shirts yesterday.

The bet for my crazy family was that they'd go to school(work) tomorrow if the Tigers won. So after the game, mom called her friend and coworker and said, "I'm coming in tomorrow."

Mom works at a high school with a bunch of high school idiots, but nobody that she saw had blue hair.

Becky is sick, which was sort of inevitable. It's allergy season and the temperature's bouncing. Becky *achoo* swears *achoo* that *achoo* she [take the damn benadryl!] has no allergies, but cotton fluff fluffering about irritates almost everyone, myself included.

Lucky for me, two benadryl, a sudafed PE, and a chloraseptic lozenge work wonders in the morning. We finally turned the AC on last night since it was in the '80s and they'd do anything to shut up Hot-flash-having-apathetic-about-basketball girl.

"The game starts at 6! You'll have to watch the Simpsons in the study!"

Okay.

I took some dinner back there and came out at a commercial break to get more, and what do you know? The basketball game on CBS has the exact same commercial on at the same time as the Simpsons on CW!

That was their story.

The Simpsons was pretty good - the one where Bart got an elephant. Someone at SNPP said it was too outlandish, but I thought, watching it, that it made as much sense as anything else. Bart's a nut. Offered ten thousand dollars or an elephant, he takes the elephant. Wouldn't you?

No.

But Bart did.


As for blue-haired Becky, she got taken to the principal's office almost as soon as she got off the bus yesterday. The lady who took her there kept saying that she was violating the dress code, and Becky just said she'd dyed her hair blue earlier in the school year and no one said boo. The principal sided with Becky (no, she didn't magically become a tenured teacher, she's still in 10th grade, shocking, I know) and said that it wasn't against dress code.

But it probably will be next year.

I'm rereading Wicked by Gregory Maguire. I think I've read this more often than I've watched the Wizard of Oz, but probably not as often as I've read The Wizard of Oz. My mom's mom sent it to us, it was my mom's back in the days of dinosaurs (she was born in Roswell, people! who knows what the government does in the New Mexico desert. Only the shadow puppy knows and I threw him outside.) and now it's mine. I've only read it more because I've had it longer.

Wicked draws from both the book and the movie. The movie, well, the color of her skin. I'm sure it would have been in the original book if she'd been green.

Some things about the Wizard of Oz movie - it's been said before, but I'll say it again. The "good fairy" was just mean in the movie, making her go to the Emerald City when she could have gone straight home. And, I forgot who said this, sorry. It wasn't a sappy movie, it didn't have a happy ending. Crazy Lady was still going to take away Toto the next day! (Wickett's been compared to Toto - black, little, in my bike basket yelling at everyone.)

I wish the movie had stayed truer to the book. You know they cut it in half? Glinda didn't rescue her in the Emerald City, she had to keep going.

My US History teacher used the Wizard of Oz movie as a metaphor for the Great Depression, saying the symbolism in the movie was put in to make the country feel better (symbol - yellow brick road=money). I asked, "How can it be about the Great Depression if it was written at the turn of last century?" The general answer was "just play along, we're talking about the movie, don't confuse everyone."

Our test over the Great Depression was like every other test - I missed one or two of the multiple choice or fill in the blank, but did more than the 2 essay(paragraph) questions required, so my scores were always at least 100. And I did the essay question about the Wizard of Oz, I think comparing the poppies as an obstacle to Emerald City to alcohol and drugs as an obstacle to fiscal solvency, or something.

My History and English teacher my junior year are to blame for my confidence in my writing skills. I got an A+ on my History paper. (Minimum 4 pages, and I turned in 8 and a half. He told me that I failed, because I'd asked if it could be more than the minimum and he sighed and said, "You can turn in a 10 page paper." Since it wasn't 10 pages, darn! The reason I asked was because our English research papers could only be so long, she wanted us to do the basics, she didn't want to grade 10 page papers. 2 was enough.) And my English one she wanted to use as an example for later classes.

We had to keep a History journal, with a question about the lesson almost every day that we had to answer before learning the information. Our journals were graded weekly, and except for one or two times, I got 100s the whole way - his handwriting was worse than mine. I like to read through it now, almost 2 years later, for an ego boost. "Look! Someone who went to college to teach things thinks I'm smart!"

I didn't get the highest grade on the final, because it was scantron, no chance for creativity. Poo. But I still aced the class merrily, and enjoyed his semester discussion class the next year as a senior (again with the journals). And he told me there were kids as good as I was when it came to retaining knowledge, but no one quite at my rhetorical level.

What.

I don't fit the beauty scene, I don't fit the social scene, the one thing I do fit and adore, I'm good at! Or I was.

And I will be.

"Small, discussion based classes." Describing what I get in the Honors Program because I'm not an ordinary student, I deserve more than an ordinary class. (The dogs didn't get the significance of this either.)

Like one of my message board friends pointed out, some of the classes would be better if I was on pain meds. Ha!

Seriously, I will be better.

Not 100%, I don't have '10 years'(that's how long some women have suffered from endometriosis before discovering that no, it was really a bowel problem, according to my doctor. He's really great, though, a pain specialist and a gyn. Who has no answers, because he doesn't even know the right questions.), but I am hoping for at least more than 50% of the pain gone.

I'll take up voodoo in July, let you know how it turns out, surely I can transfer the pain to someone deserving?

On one of the help pages "how to get your blog read", one of the tips is keep it short.



I say Ack!!! Thppppth!!!! to that.


It's my blog, for my pleasure, and I can fire a commenter for not being loyal to Dixie, but I won't say that under oath and you can't get a transcript of it.*


*That should lead to kicking the Republicans out of the executive branch more than the wiretaps, torture, the catastrofuck of the war, leaking names, turning us into a Christian theocracy (much better than a Muslim one), and No Child Left Behind. (Most educators loathe NCLB, which doesn't help them, it only continues the stereotype that they're liberal commies. NCLB is just part of getting the rich, deserving kids into private schools and giving everyone else vouchers to save them from the horrors of public schools that are held accountable to the community, if the community gives a damn.)

I mean really. His advisors won't swear to tell the truth and we'll have no evidence of the meeting? Do they still tape everything? Instead of 18 minutes missing, I'd say 6 years would be missing from those.

This shows that he thinks he's above the people, he or his office shouldn't be held accountable for his/its actions. A Republican congress led the impeachment against Clinton, why won't the Democrats do the same? Yes, it is a lack of backbone - impeach the president? During the war on terror? Are you mad? We'll be accused of treason by Ann Coulter.

Ann Coulter!

And possibly Sean Hannity!

We can't chance that.

But it's also the fact that besides Zell Miller challenging Chris Matthews to a duel (I wish he'd slapped him with a glove, like Stephen Colbert did to Jon Stewart while reporting on it - Indecision 2004 DVD, so awesome), the democratic congresspeople aren't as angry and vicious, and have stoned academics backing them.

There was a bit in the paper yesterday comparing Vietnam protests almost 40 years ago to the Iraq protests of today. It said something that is so true - there's no draft. Back then, apparently, you knew at least one person who was over there, and if you were a guy, there was this chance you'd go.

Now that it's all volunteer, college students aren't in danger of flunking out and being drafted, no one is going there against their will - officially. You sign up for the National Guard, to protect the area in case of a storm, and now you're going to Iraq for the second time in 4 years. (Our local one.) They change the rules, allowing those with tattoos that show beyond the dress uniform and those with mental illnesses such as depression or autism.

Pardon me while I vomit.

Don't tell me women don't like sports.

There are 3 women in this house.

2 of them are cheering and shouting at the TV because the U of M Tigers are points behind or points ahead or whatever.

I like playing basketball where I'm by myself, throwing whatever basketball has been left in our front yard by Becky's friend at our netless hoop.

That's about it.

I'm going to the U of M in less than 6 months, I can't do the "Woooooh!" *clap clap clap* that Becky just did, but maybe I can wear blue in March.

I hate all sports on tv besides baseball, which is so nice, because it's so ... soothing, no clock to worry about, yes, it can be 'boring', but that's part of its charm.

Football and basketball require a lot of shouting and gesturing, if my mom and sister are any indication.

I'm going outside with Dixie - all this shouting is confusing her, she thinks something important is going on.

Becky dyed her hair blue for today. This is not the first time.

And it won't be the last.

Losing My Religion

Not that I had any to begin with.

In the 'M' section of our paper - I hate the name too, it's meant for women because it stands for everything women love - men and Memphis and other m things! I remember a few angry letters to the editor, but whatever. Monday is Health Day, Wednesday is Food, Friday is Home and Garden, Saturday has 2-3 religious pages - church listings, what this church group did, blah blah - Sunday is fashion, romance, and travel. It's also home to the comics, and only women read those, as well, I suppose. It's home to the crossword and other puzzles, as well as the advice columns - Miss Manners, "Annie's Mailbox", Doctor Gott, and, the point of this post, Billy Graham.

Every one of the Reverend's answers ends with God sent his only son down, accept him into your heart, and all will be well.

Today, a kid (or someone pretending to be a kid) wrote in asking where did God come from? Does God have a Mommy and a Daddy? Will God die? (Yes, God will die.)

The good reverend said God's always been there, and he's always going to be there, and he wants to be your friend, all you have to do is ask Jesus to come into your heart and he will and you will be saved.

I'm sitting on the living room floor, hunched over the paper, so I sit up and say, "Jesus! Come in my heart!"

Nothing.

This pisses off my sister, because she's not a morning person and she had to go stand in at the cold bus stop for at least 5 minutes without a personal heater or electric blanket.

"He'll only come in your heart if you mean it, you're just doing this out of spite."

"No, I'm having fun. And how will I know when I mean it?"

"You just will!"

"I don't understand."

"No, you don't."

And out she goes.

I never lost my religion, because I never had one. We were raised Christian, but at that young, extremely impressionable age, we didn't go to church, so it never felt real to me.

I hate church services. I always have. They bore me to tears. Even though we started going to the Methodist Church when I was old enough to sit still, I doodled most of the time in the paper books provided for us immature people.

Mom and Beck went back to church this fall after about 3 years out, and Mom acted even more immature - she kept signing things to my sister. (Nobody's deaf in my family, my mom works with deaf kids, and like any other language, you pick up bits and pieces. I know a cuss word, and that's all that matters.)

They used to go every Sunday morning, and I had to go. I said forcing it on me would make me hate it, that didn't matter, I needed to get out, so we compromised, and I got to take Dixie for a walk through a tree-lined path above a creek.

They haven't gone to a Sunday morning service for a couple months - I know they went to the midnight service on Christmas Eve. But Becky's getting a lot out of her youth group, and that's great. The Methodist church is the most liberal in the area, at least how it's preached at the one she goes to. (I'm not pressured to go.)

I feel guilty for not believing, for not going, for not caring about God.

To justify this to myself and my family, I decided if I went because I had to, and I didn't believe in it, that would make God angry and waste everyone's time. If I go because I want to, I think that's better. My devout Christian friend agrees with me - don't go because you have to, go because you feel the spirit, because you want to. Everyone in my family assumes I will find religion one day, but I don't know if I will, and I don't care if I do or not.

The crisis center I volunteer at is a 'ministry', but nobody's asked me what church I go to, or anything approaching that. All the volunteers there, including the woman in charge, are great people, exactly what Christians should be, at least in my eyes. Kind and giving. Of course, I think all people, of all religions and mindsets should be so kind.

Lois, the woman in charge, lives in my neighborhood, so I come in with her and usually leave with her. One day last fall, soon after I'd started, she asked me why I hadn't been at church lately. I said I didn't want to go, and that was it, it's never been brought up again.

You can preach at me all you want, tell me I'll go to hell, it won't work.

Religion is a private, personal thing, and I think converting people to your church (or any group) by telling me I'm going to hell if I don't believe exactly what I'm supposed to is just plain stupid. The converts you get, you got through fear.

People should be allowed to make their own conclusions, and believe what they want to believe. So much of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity is belief in one God who rules everything and everyone. You can't make someone believe something, you can't force a belief on anyone.

But that's my belief, and I'm forcing it on you.

So it goes, eh?

My devout Christian friend (this is the south, almost everyone goes to church every week) that I mentioned earlier - I believe that her faith is incredibly strong and real, because she came to it on her own, as a teenager. An internet Christian friend - I respect her beliefs for the same reason, she accepted Christ as an adult.

That rings truer to me than someone who believes because they've been going to church their whole lives, were baptized as soon as possible, etc. Not that their beliefs are less valid or real, I just view them differently. One group came to a conclusion, the other had the conclusion pushed on them before they knew what was happening.

I do respect everybody's beliefs, whether they came to them as an adult, or were raised with them.

I just don't share it, and telling me I will won't make it so.


But I shouldn't make fun of it on a Monday morning when Becky's on her way to school. That's suicide. I'm sorry, Beck. In my defense, though, all those weird Jack Chick Tracts say it's as simple as saying "God! Get in my heart! I'm sorry!" Which I know to be false, I was merely having some sarcastic fun. At a bad moment. I truly am sorry, Becky, I won't ask you any more questions about your beliefs.

Pay It Forward

My sister is in a youth group at a pretty small church. There's 30 members, maybe, but only about 15 are active. Compare to the local mega-church, where the teen youth group has over 100 members.

Pay It Forward is a charity project that they had to sign up for, you could choose to do this or not.

The goal is to help a family, a person, pay forward kindness? I'm not quite sure.

Becky chose to help a family with a sick kid whose illness had caused financial difficulty, truly 'paying it forward', because that is what people have done for us.

Well, this involves money, so each person has to make a craft to sell to the congregation. I think Becky wanted to do birdhouses, yech.

Today, while I was asleep, mom and Beck decided on something different.

And here they are:





They bought these records for $1.50 each at a local antiques store today, and put them on metal bowls, then put them in the oven at 200 degrees for 5 minutes. Becky did a bit of shaping (with oven mitts on, people, she may be a teenage twit, but she knows "Fire hot!") and they froze immediately in their shapes.

More will be made, but they'll be made from cheaper records from goodwill and goodwill's bargain barn, where you can get them for 10 cents.

Aren't they awesome?

Dixie and her Becky

Happy Birthday, Becky!

Becky is 16 today.

Technically, she won't be 16 until 11 pm, but since she was born in Naples, Italy - factor in the time zones, carry the y, add the 4 leap years - here in Memphis, the blonde one will be 16 around 3 pm.

Not that it matters, she wanted to be up now and on myspace, making sure everyone knew it was her birthday and was showering her with accolades. They all have school tomorrow, (because the cold, wet weather of this weekend went NOWHERE but up to almost 50 degrees. If it has to be cold and wet, can't we have some snow or ice to play with? Mud just doesn't cut it anymore.) but they'll be up to wish her a happy birthday.

Becky will celebrate her birthday by going to school. She wants to go to school on her birthday! My sister is officially the crazy one. She's been praying and hoping and doing a no-snow dance so she can go to school and get presents from her friends.

Becky's friend Ariel came over Saturday, and she agrees with Mom and me. We want snow on our birthdays! Yes, our birthdays are technically during the summer, but we could totally go to Antarctica next August for my Nice Nineteen! Anyone?

We all went out Saturday, Mom, Becky, Ariel, and me, since Becky wanted me. Beck and Ariel bowled for a couple hours, Mom and I went to the antique store where I got the MADs, and then we went to Goodwill because we all love it, then on to Bahama Breeze.

I found the perfect present for Becky at Goodwill - it was a bit pricey, but she adores it, so it was worth it. It's a miniature British-style phone booth that lights up! It also says "Pretty'N'Punk" across the door and an adjacent side, and when I got home, I looked it up and discovered it's a Bratz toy! Oh, ew! Still an awesome thing. It can hold her cell, I don't know, it's so cool looking. It was $3.99, a bit much, like I said, but still cheaper than the new thing. Though what a Bratz toy would be doing at Goodwill I'll never know... (Found a great book on Atheism there and a gift for another person, $3.99 and $4.99, respectively. Goodwill's getting a bit ritzy for my tastes...)

Bahama Breeze was a bomb. (We had a 'B' theme going for a while - Becky and Ariel were two teenage twits having a terrific time.) The lord gave Becky a Monday birthday this year, we could have gone to an expensive restaurant that night, so we wouldn't have to wait an hour and a half! 45 minutes before a table, and 45 minutes at the table.

And then the food wasn't so hot, either. Expensive, for one thing. My meal and my mom's were the only ones of any decent size. Mom got a plain hamburger and I got the great Cuban sandwich. Ariel got Jamaican chicken and Becky got a chicken sandwich. (Yes, CHICKEN. At BAHAMA Breeze. Becky swears that fish places have the best chicken - Captain D's, Joe's Crab Shack.)

Anyway, Becky's sandwich was small, and Ariel got the small size chicken dinner, because it was so pricey, it must be huge! we all assumed. It wasn't.

Luckily for them, my hunger is in an ebb mode, meaning I'm just not hungry often and when I am, I can barely finish a sandwich before being full - most of the time. So I let them have the second half of my delicious sandwich.

Don't do Bahama Breeze on the weekend - or at all, really. But if you do - Lemon Breeze and Cuban Sandwich. Expensive, but good.

Beck's also going out with her dad (he's my dad too, but I like saying that for some twisted reason) and his mom Friday for dinner.


All in all, her birthday week is going to be fun.

I'm going to try my hand at making her something tomorrow while she's at school and I'm not, which I totally don't rub in too much. Except when I wake up at 6 only to stagger to the couch and laugh myself back into sleep.

Since I've neglected the Dog of the Day, I'm combining the two.

Here's Dixie and Becky, mugging for the camera. Dig the tongue - Dixie's, not Becky's!




Happy Birthday, Becky, I love ya.