Friday, December 29, 2006

Short Post (In A Long Fence).

Remember when I pitched a big bitch about my health insurance company?? Well, I got the checks today -- I'm shocked! I was starting to think they wouldn't come through!

And my new cell phone showed up today too, along with the sleeve for my MacBook. The Post Office was nerd heaven this morning. ;)

My Mom made some snarky comment about the sleeve, but she still hasn't noticed the new computer. I guess it's a good thing I got a white one instead of a black one; the two or three inches difference in width has gone unnoticed so far. I like it a lot though, I'm definitely a satisfied Apple customer. I kinda feel bad about the fact that my old iBook is just layin' in the back seat of my car, but I'm real happy with the new MacBook. I'm sure I'll get the old one out of the car sometime this weekend -- I need to transfer a few more files over and I really hope I can move that one particular font (Bertram, if ya care) over 'cause it's what I used for the buttons on the dot-com and I'm not really interested in changing those just yet; I kinda like the look of it on the buttons and on my banners too.

More Later... _\,,/

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Yet Another Piece On Thankfulness...

Because It's The Twenty-Eighth Of December.

Life is good, and that's worth repeating. Life. Is. Good. It's not perfect, but it's good, and I'm thankful. I am thankful for many, many things; some small, some large; some tangible, some emotional; some insignificant, some amazing.

There are things that don't seem like much that just make me smile, and it's good to be happy. My body isn't perfect, but I'm reasonably healthy with the exception of the whole PCOS thing -- which seems fairly manageable, so that's something to be thankful for. My hair isn't perfect, but I'm thankful I'm still able to grow it. My teeth aren't perfect, but I'm thankful my mouth doesn't hurt anymore.

My car is twelve years old but it still makes me smile when I walk out of a store and see it across the parking lot -- I'm waiting for that 2-door Dodge Challenger to turn up at the local dealerships, and I'm thankful for reasonably decent credit that might actually stand a chance at getting it financed.

My job turns up enough money to pay my bills without turning up too much stress, and even though I bitch about it sometimes, I'm thankful that it's not any worse. I'm also thankful for that warm little feeling that makes me smile whenever I see Clay's picture sittin' on my desk.

My Cats shed hair everywhere and occasionally speeyack in the most inconvenient places, but I love that feeling when Shadow snuggles up against me or when Hannah jumps up onto my back.

I'm thankful I don't have to live with anyone who fishes money out of my purse or rips a check or two out of my checkbook and forgets to tell me 'til three days later. Since I mentioned my purse, it's one more little thing that makes me smile when I see it from a distance -- even though it was a clearance sale item from an outlet store, I like it, I just do.

I sleep indoors under a comfy blanket, I eat well, probably not as healthy as I should, but I don't go hungry. I'm thankful to live in a free country where I can go where I want, do what I want, and not have to answer to anyone for it. I'm thankful to be a part of a nice little church and a great group of fun and friendly folks. I'm thankful to be involved in a sport that I love; a sport where thirty or forty years ago women were not even allowed to be involved behind the scenes, let alone participate.

Life's about being thankful for little things that make ya happy; like Jill Conner Browne said, "Life's too short, and too long, to mess with anything that doesn't make your heart sing."

Most of all, I'm thankful for God's Grace and Mercy; because I remember where I was eleven years ago today, at the lowest point of my entire life. I've come a long, long way, and it's good to be here.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Merry Christmas!

Ah, 'twas an interesting Christmas...

This year was a non-traditional one; things just ain't been the same since Grandma's been gone. We've carried on with the Christmas Eve Get Together, only now without the Santa Visit that Grandma used to orchestrate every year. And, in a totally new twist, we had a Christmas Eve Lasagna instead of the usual cookies/chips/dip/BBQ Wieners & other crockpot goodies like we used to always have at Grandma's. I got some interesting video of Dad "driving" that hand-held NASCAR game that's shaped like a steering wheel too.

Also, instead of an ordinary Christmas Day Dinner, I got an unexpected flashback. We had Christmas Morning Breakfast with Clay's family, and it was great. We had a real nice time that was totally worth gettin' up early for, and I didn't really miss the traditional "Christmas Dinner" kinda food. I enjoyed it tremendously and I'm not just sayin' that 'cause I wasn't the one who had to pay the bill and then haul everybody back home after it was over.

Christmas Eve in the afternoon, I put in the order for a new cell phone with BlueTooth so it'll hopefully work with the new MacBook -- just had to get myself a little something nifty/nerdy for Christmas. I'm watching the mailbox...

I told myself I wasn't going to write about the stuff but I've just gotta mention this one little thing... Clay totally surprised me. Totally. Completely. Entirely. I probably can't count how many guys have heard me say "You can't go wrong with the Dooney & Bourke or Coach Counter!" Clay actually did it, and it was a total surprise in more ways than one -- I can't believe I hadn't seen 'em yet, being a crazy bag lady and a total bee freak, I can't believe I hadn't discovered the "Bumble Bee" print! He got me the uber collector's item, the "Bitty Bumble Bee Bag," and it's just the cutest little thing!! I had no idea they were makin' 'em like that, but it's got "D"s and cartoony Bees all over it, some are winking, some are grinning -- it's just as adorable as it can bee! (Sorry, couldn't resist the pun!)

I know this is off-topic, but somebody found me by doing a search for "Mom's Tits." Seriously people, let's get real if you can; wouldn't it be easier to just go ask your Mom?? Mom's Tits -- and I thought the all-caps Googler who searched for the "turkey carcass sleigh" was out there...

More later... _\,,/

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Kinda Funny, Kinda Sad...

The one single time I walk out of here without my camera, wouldn't ya know...

When I came back with lunch, there was a red Monte Carlo sittin' at the stop sign waiting to turn onto Highway 11 out front. It wasn't a racin' kinda Monte, but one of the newer front-wheel drive ones like we'll probably all be racing in a few years. It was fire-engine red with dark tinted glass, and the flash of white shoepolish really took me back.

The first (only) time I ever "got shoepolished" was my senior year, right around Graduation. To anyone else, having the car windows all done-up with shoepolish would probably be an annoyance; but to me, at that moment, it was almost like a rite of passage -- As a kid who'd always felt like I didn't quite fit in, I felt like I was part of the bunch. I never got a straight answer as to who did it; maybe my boyfriend at the time, or maybe some of my Band Buddies, or even the remote possiblilty of My Mom having some kind of hand in it; it didn't matter at the time though -- just that I was "in" enough that somebody went to the trouble of scrawling 95's and "Congratulations" and only-God-knows-what-all-else in white and black on the windows and mirrors of my little black Ford was enough to make me happy.

That red Monte Carlo didn't have quite the same feel to it though. I couldn't decide if I should giggle at the stupidity, or worry about the illiteracy.

On the right-side quarter window, it said "CALL ME!" and just forward, on the right-side door glass, it said "YOUR HOTT."

"If you've ever mis-spelled anything in Christmas Lights..."

More later... _\,,/

Monday, December 18, 2006

Catching Up, Disjointedly...

It's a good thing NaBloPoMo was in November, 'cause December is busy like a dollar store in a bad part of town.

--

High-Speed 'net on the new MacBook has created a slight distraction from knitting, but I am getting a little better with the smaller needles. It was confusing at first, but the further I go, the easier it gets.

I also burned my first DVD over the weekend too, with the "one-step" button. It only took the first little bit of the tape before I'd hit stop and made a gap in the tape; but I didn't try to change anything, I just let it go. The head cleaner helped the ol' Pawn Shop DV Camcorder quite a bit, and the picture was nice & clear -- I was fascinated just like I was with the first big ol' VHS Camcorder. It was nerdy-cool to see my stuff on the TV even though it was only a few minutes worth.

--

One day last week I got pissed off at work and I had some huge rant to write about, but then Etta James was on Austin City Limits and I forgot about it all. She was awesome, and I wish I hadn't missed the first half of the show.

--

The HoMeSkOoL [tm] kids are askin' questions because they have officially discovered "The Word," as Mom says. Apparently, it all came about while they were hangin' out and watchin' their uncle (my other brother) and a buddy try to get a transmission into a Mack dumptruck -- In a proud OldestBro moment, he yelled something to the effect of "I need a fuckin' Mac# hammer!" Heh heh...

Sure, it's best to minimize exposure, but when it comes right down to it, I'm with Eric Cartman, "It's just a word, it doesn't hurt anybody, fuck, fuck, fuckety-fuck-fuck."

--

Speaking of the stupid... Ain't it nice to know that he can open up every porn skank site, but he can't find his own way to m@ps-dot-Google-dot-com?

--

Oh Gawd, I hope they're not doing so much research as to Google for "A fuckin' M@ck hammer." It'd be just like 'em to Google up Eb@y and see if they could buy one there. Shit, I'd better change that. Okay, now we're safe.

--

There's not a whole lot goin' on around here, can ya tell??

More later... _\,,/

Monday, December 11, 2006

Now I Know...

Now I know why I'm not a teacher.

I am a learner, I am a puzzler, I am a thinker, but I am not much of a teacher. I can read, follow directions (mostly) and think things through in order to figure out how to get things done, fix things, or make things work -- I can usually figure stuff out for my own brain.

I have a hard time translating things in order to transfer knowledge to someone else's brain, and that's why I'm not much of a teacher.

How's the best way to go about explaining an MP3 Player to a HoMeSkOoL [tm] kid who just got one for his birthday?

We're to the part about "You use the computer to put songs on it," and I'm stumped as to "dumbing it down" any further than that. I keep thinking about the Mac & PC guys and wishing I was just totally loaded so I could get 'em a brand new Mac & an iPod for Christmas and say "Here, it's just easier this way," but I have a feeling I'll be getting it back when he's tired of listening to the "Cars" Soundtrack over and over again.

I'd love to be able to just go to my brother's house and sit down at their computer and show 'em how to open up Windows Media Player, plug it in, and press the buttons; but I worry that I'm not enough of a teacher to get the job done right... For anybody else, maybe; but not for folks who have to use Google to find "That Popular Auction Site Whose Name Starts With An E and ends with a Y" (which I'm not typin' in here 'cause they Google for it and would therefore run the risk of finding me by accident).

Well, if they wanted me to come help during work hours, maybe that wouldn't be so bad, 'cause I'd be gettin' paid for it then...

heh heh...

More of my fifteen percent later!
_\,,/

Thursday, December 07, 2006

What It's All About...

Well, I ran onto someone who'd reviewed all the blogs in the "D" section of the NaBloPoMo listings, and though I didn't get mentioned, I believe I probably got categorized.

I'll admit, I do know that even though I have a few actual dedicated readers (Love ya, all five of y'all!), I don't exactly have any kind of real award-winner here. I like to think I hit a high-point every now and then and crank out at least a few real gems -- but I know it's not all as fascinating as some others that I keep up with in my reading time. There's probably not anyone who's clamoring to read my next dippy little story, but I'd like to think that every now and then, I end up with something that's at least a little interesting to somebody out there.

But when it comes right down to it, it's just like SJ said, ":Blogging is very self-centered." It's an outlet for me; just a place where I can rant, rave, and ramble as I please -- and if there are people-wachers who like to read that sort of thing, well, Welcome, thanks for stoppin' by!

I am comfortable being part of that fifteen percent. And hey, "Dexterous" isn't so bad either.

"15% were personal ramblings that I couldn't really find an overall theme for."

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

A Blast From The Past, From A Kid Who Flunked History...

I never did well in History classes, I don't know for sure, but if I had to guess, it had something to do with a lack of interest on my part. I remember handing in a freshman year research paper (My topic was the Tulsa Race Riot, if ya care) thinking I'd really done something interesting -- I'd even managed to get interested in it myself. That paper came back with so many red marks on it you'd think the Coach and his "Teacher Intern" had both used it to sop up a week's worth of shaving nicks.

My sophmore year, my "standardized test scores" landed me in Honors US History, and you guessed it, a Coach taught that one too. I actually did flunk that one, and had to re-take the second semester when I was a senior. Junior year history was taught by a Teacher (not a Coach) and I did rather well in that class, because he made it interesting.

In college, I took that one History class because it was required. I fought a reasonable fight and It went well for a little while (there aren't any Coaches at Community College) but the shit hit the fan partway through and I flunked that one too. When I took it the second time, I ended up in an evening class with a totally different professor and she was amazing. I aced that one, most likely because she made it interesing, and not just because she "talked funny."

I guess that's why I'm so crazy about Jack Frank, the guy who narrates quite a bit of the local artsy stuff on TV. He doesn't really have a noticeable accent as far as I can tell, but his voice is just nice, like Garrison Keilor, only not quite as Northern.

Last night I was glad I was at home and remembered to tune in for that half-hour Tulsa Video show -- it was great, I'm definitely pickin' up a copy of the DVD. Even though I've always had a rough time with History Classes, I get a real kick out of the Local history -- I love to look at the old pictures of Tulsa to try to spot familiar buildings & landmarks that are still visible today.

The show was only a teensy little half-hour, with ads for the DVD with "the full hour and additional features," but it did show a little clip of the old Super-Mods on the dirt at the Fairgrounds, and a couple shots with mention of the old Fred Jones Ford Dealership downtown.

I got a little sentimental when I saw the Fred Jones building on TV, even if it was only for a few seconds. I've been trying to brain-in on exactly when it was that they decided to tear down the buildings for a church parking lot... It was in the hottest time of summer, and I know for sure it was after '92 and most likely before '95 or so, but I still can't remember which year.

My Dad had a buddy who worked for one of the largest (non-automotive) wrecking companies in the Tulsa area, and this friend of his was one of the few people with the license/certification/credentials to cap off City Of Tulsa Sewer Lines. (uhm, Howdy, Google!) Dad's buddy got us in on helping tear down several buildings; like the offices that were torn down to make room for the Mardel store at 51st & Harvard, and a couple big houses in fancy-schmancy neighborhoods -- Houses you'd never believe someone would tear down; but we'd go in and get everything that could be carried out & hauled away; and I'll never forget makin' a half-hour drive home with three huge chandeliers in the back seat of the SHO. We'd haul in all sorts of things from fixtures & furniture to boxes & labels to trailer-loads of doors & bags upon bags of switches & outlets. Mom's dishwasher even came out of one of those houses. We carried out cabinets and dug out hot tubs, we got heat & air units and even truckloads of stepping stones & landscaping, plants included.

Being a "Family of Car People," we were fascinated with the idea of getting a first-grab at the newly vacant dealership; and we were also stunned by the stuff that had been left behind. An incredible number of desks and chairs (like the antique-y chair behind my desk at home), along with all sorts of records and reference materials in notebooks, on VHS Tapes, and on Microfilm. My Dad's so proud of those old payroll ledgers from years ago, and the 24th-scale model that's a perfect match for his ol' red Galaxie 500. I don't even remember how many boxes of pens & pencils & "desk stuff" I carried out of there -- several desks looked like whoever worked there had just pushed their chair back, stood up, and walked off without lookin' back -- I didn't have to buy anything to write with for several years after that. The four-foot-tall tower speakers out of the service department ended up in my garage, and the elevator ended up in the little church where I grew up. There were several recycled items that got passed on from that building.

I wish I could've watched 'em take the elevator out, but I only got to go downtown on the weekends. We'd pull whatever trucks we'd drove down there inside the service doors or into the showroom, and just start loading stuff up. I remember looking through all the front offices where the sunshine came in from the street and just being sweaty as I could be. My Dad and both of my brothers and a couple of the guys who worked with us at the time were all there, all taking stuff apart and loading pieces onto trucks.

I found a closet in one of the offices and I could see some light inside. The closet was tiny, shorter than my 5'6" and just barely shoulder-width. I vividly remember looking around in there as best I could before I stepped in to check out the blinking red light. If there's anything I've learned in the salvage biz, it's "Don't ever reach without looking first." After I'd looked closely and convinced myself there weren't any mysterious holes in the walls or any exposed wires, I leaned in to check it out. It had some LED's and a digital readout of some type; It had zones marked like a security system, and temperature settings like a thermostat; came to the conclusion that it had to do with the heat & air system. Air Conditioning. I remember thinking to myself what a sweet deal it would be if I could mess around with those buttons and switches to make some cold air blow in there; and everybody would think I was awesome for it.

So, I crowded in there, making sure the door wouldn't close on me (as this was way, way before I had a phone in my pocket all the time), and sat my ass back against the wall opposite the panel to survey the situation. "Hey, if I can program the VCR or set the clock on the truck radio, surely I can figure this out." I remember looking and puzzling a minute or two, and then I started pressing buttons to see what would happen. Some lights on, some lights off, some blinked around as I messed with the buttons and switches. A few what-if's went through my mind as I sat there, but I figured that if it was a security system, they'd probably discontinued the service when they moved out, and if it did call the cops, we could explain what had happened or My Dad and his buddy would get me out of the deal.

I don't know how long I sat there just messing around with that panel trying to see if I could make anything happen. I sat, or almost sat, with my back & hips against the wall behind me, and my knees wedged against the wall under the panel. The panel was the width of the wall and probably just a bit taller than it was wide. It never made any sound, it didn't have any kind of "warm electronics smell," it didn't make any sound, no beeps or dings. I'd managed to blink some lights and make the LCD readout switch among "zone 2" and zone whatever, but I'd not heard any kind of siren chirps like you'd expect from a security system, and I not heard (or felt) any fans or blowers or air moving.

Then there was a huge boom. It shook the floor against my feet and the walls against my body, and I was knocked tharn without being physically touched; like a deer in the headlights, I was frozen with fear and a million thoughts shot through me at full-tilt. Terror. Destruction. Carnage. Death. Dismemberment. My mind imagined every horrific scenario that could possibly have taken place; most prominently a huge HVAC unit blasting off the roof of the building like a rocket; with a hail of flame and shrapnel blasting the life out of most of my family and a couple of my close friends as they loaded parts onto a truck out in the showroom. Like a missle, the HVAC unit would blast off, way up into the air, taking out a major airliner or possibly a news or life-flight helicopter, and then come to land falling through the roof of the nearby church, probably in the middle of a lavish wedding. In the midst of all the carnage, the building would shake and then collapse, leaving me trapped in that tiny closet, pinned by debris and getting zapped by the remnants of the control panel on which I'd been pushing buttons without knowing what I was doing. I don't know how long I sat there, still and scared and near tears as I thought about what the hell I could ever tell my Mom if I was the only one who'd survived the explosion.

When I heard my oldest brother start to laugh, I un-wedged my knees from the wall and nearly fell onto the office floor. He laughed even harder when I came around the corner -- My Dad said I looked really bad, apparently the mental experience showed on me physically.

Nobody was dead, no HVAC unit had shot off the roof.

They'd backed the ol' red one-ton Chevrolet flatbed around into the hallway toward the row of offices and wedged it into a doorway, where they'd strung the winch cable as far out as it would go. They had wrapped the cable around a safe; the kind like ya see in the movies -- with a combination dial and a round door. The safe was about two feet square and probably three feet tall, sitting on top of a stand that was about two feet tall and looked rather spindly, even to the untrained eye. After the cable was wrapped around and hooked into itself, they hit the button to wind it back onto it's spool, in hopes of dragging the safe across to the doorway and up onto the bed of the truck.

Things don't always go as planned though -- the spindly little table was tougher than it looked and had great traction even on what looked like a slick floor. They managed to scoot it about three inches, and then the front feet dug in and the whole mess turned over. Even a small safe is heavy -- heavy enough to shake the concrete floor and walls of the building, and even though two feet isn't a great heighth, it was enough to make a huge boom.

And they still make fun of me for thinkin' I'd blown the whole town up by tryin' to get some cold air blowin'.

More later...

_\,,/

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Sunday, and Still Snowed-In.

It was truly lovely to hear Maggie Mason on NPR this morning; 'twas a nice little piece on Christmas Shopping online.

We're still staying in, Mom and I in our matching cheese-sauce-spotted shirts. I finished the last Christmas scarf (Well, I think it's the last one) and got out the needles with the nifty Birthday Books to learn how to "knit for real." It was challenging at first, but it's gettin' easier the longer I keep going. Dad came this morning, out gettin' around in that big ol' high-ridin' white Bronco. No, not the OJ Bronco, it's a couple years older and I'm sure he came by it a lot cheaper.

He brought the Newspapers we'd missed... I'm hooked on "Rex Morgan, MD," but I still read the rest of the paper too.

And... On The Front Page of one of 'em...

Are you feckin' kiddin' me???

I think I mentioned The Billboards a while back... Well, our own Tulsa World Newspaper has discovered 'em now. Planned Parenthood has put up some blue and white billboards that say "Birth Control Is Easy" (with a phone number) and the Catholic Diocese of Tulsa has responded by putting up some red and white billboards that say "Birth Control Is HARMFUL" (with a website address).

The newspaper article didn't exactly get off to a good start with me anyway -- on the bottom of the front page, before they'd even got halfway through the article, was a quote from someone who mentioned the problems caused by "unattended pregnancies." Yeah, you read that right, that's just what it said -- unattended pregnancies. Lack of prenatal care is a serious problem, but I've never heard anyone use the phrase "Unattended Pregnancies," nobody calls it that, and this article is about birth control, not prenatal care...

Oh, wait, the newspaper editor must've missed that one; or maybe there's a seriously confused individual talking about something he doesn't understand who just happened to use the wrong word. Unattended, Unintended. Wow, now I can add that to the list with "Contemplated & Constipated," and "Excess & Access."

My irritation goes so much further than my inner English Major. Would you believe this same person went on to say the Birth Control is the cause of such evils as Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Promiscuity, and Infidelity?

When I first saw the "HARMFUL" billboard, my first reaction was a bit of worry -- what if my pills are going to make me sick somehow? I know there's a risk of clots, but they say it's a lot worse for smokers or women over 35; so I figure I'm pretty safe since I've only just turned 30 and I've never smoked. My Dr. put me on 'em to level-out my hormones and reduce my risk of certain kinds of tumors, surely she would have mentioned if they were harmful.

I had my "Oh Moment" when I saw the website address on the bottom of the sign. As in "Ooooohhhhh, the Catholics..."

I remember a Professor who mentioned something to the effect of "Higher Education leads to increased Liberalism," and even though I'm still a bit of a conservative, I think he was right; because I can look back on a lot of my views that have changed as I've gotten older. College Education didn't do away with my Southern Baptist upbringing, but it did give me a new view of a lot of issues.

A lot of people hear the words "Planned Parenthood" and immediately think of "Abortion." There's a lot more goin' on at the Planned Parenthood Clinic than just good old-fashioned baby-killin'. Lots of women use the Planned Parenthood Clinic for yearly exams, contraception, education, and prenatal care. Birth control isn't abortion, and abortion isn't birth control. I used to be completely against abortion; but I remember the heated debate with Mom when she told me she'd almost had one, but the folks at Planned Parenthood told her there was an extreme risk to her life as well. My views aren't as black-n-white as they were years ago -- Abortion should not be a form of birth control, it's only a last resort in extreme circumstances.

Risky or irresponsible sexual behavior has consequences; emotional problems, sexually transmitted diseases, and unintended (or unattended, heh) pregnancies.

Pregnancy is the only consequence that is alleviated by Birth Control Pills; but The Pill does not cause Domestic Violence, or Child Abuse, or Promiscuity, or Infidelity. I know better than to let on like I know all of the root causes of society's problems like Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, Promiscuity, and Infidelity -- but I do know that they're not caused by The Pill; they're basically caused by bad behavioral choices; for whatever reason people make those choices. Three of the four of those are concepts with which I have limited experience, and none of it has come into my life since I started taking Birth Control Pills this past July. My minimal exposure to Domestic Violence was five or six years ago, before I'd ever used The Pill, so I can be sure that wasn't caused by Birth Control. I'm most certain that my singular brush with Domestic Violence (an argument that turned into a one-time tool-throwing incident) was because he was moody and I was mouthy; it was due to us both being headstrong people who each wanted things done our way, it was due to not-so-thought-out decisions made by both of us; I'm not saying that's the case with all Incidents of Domestic Violence, but I can personally guarantee it was not because of any kind of Birth Control.

The summer I was fifteen, you might say the Baptists got to me just in time. The "True Love Waits" campaign was just getting into full-swing, and I signed one of the first cards making the commitment to wait for marriage (way back when they were all white and didn't have a hole in 'em). I met my first "boyfriend" that summer and had my first "real date" shortly after. I was away from the Baptist Church for several years, but I never gave up on the commitment I'd made to myself and my future mate. I turned thirty last week, still the second oldest virgin I've ever known, and Birth Control Pills didn't have anything to do with it. I remember sitting in the Tabernacle at Falls Creek that summer and signing those two cards -- one that I put in the bucket as it was passed down aisle after aisle, the other is still in my Bible. I knew the commitment was serious, I knew it would be with me for a long time, but in the summer between 9th & 10th grade, I had no idea it would last a lifetime. I still believe in the choice that I made, I believe that the White Wedding Dress is a great and meaningful gift I'll be able to give to My Husband that will last forever; even though the symbolism of the white dress has been tossed out the window over the years. I still believe that for me, it was the right thing to do -- even though I wonder how many of those people who signed cards the same day actually stuck with it.

That commitment has saved me from infections, diseases, emotional issues (not that I don't have emotional issues anyway, but they're less complicated this way), pregnancy... Yeah, I've been dumped a time or two because of it, but in the long run, it's been a learning experience -- hey, some of those guys would rather have a chick who might cheat on him with his friends; It's saved me from those guys. Someday I'll marry a guy who appreciates the fact that I've never had sex with anyone else. I am not afraid to stand up for the choices I have made, I am not afraid to tell anyone who asks; this is the choice I have made, and this is how it's worked out for me.

Each and every woman should make these choices for herself, for her own reasons. Each and every woman has the right to make her own commitments to herself, and if that commitment to herself includes "I want to have sex, but I don't want to have babies," then nobody should give her any hassle about taking preventative measures against getting pregnant (please note, I didn't say "getting un-pregnant"); whether through The Pill, condoms, foam, takin' it in the butt, or abstaining from sex altogether -- even though I had a teacher in highschool who vehemently maintained that abstinence was not an effective form of birth control. Uh, yeah, Hi Mister Beller, it's still working, I'm still not pregnant.

I know that not everyone chooses to live their life this way, I know that it's everyone's individual decision to make, and I know it's not my place to judge anyone. Birth Control takes Pregnancy out of the equation for women who choose to have sex, and that's all it does. Read the box; The Pill does not protect against sexually transmitted diseases, blah-blah, woof-woof. Birth Control does not cause anyone to commit acts of violence, it only prevents pregnancy. If someone chooses to be unfaithful, it's because of their lack of commitment, not because of Birth Control. People make bad choices because they just make bad choices sometimes -- not because of Birth Control. People who make commitments because of fear are likely to eventually break those commitments -- people who make commitments because of character are likely to keep those commitments. Infidelity is caused by lack of character, not by Birth Control.

Taking Birth Control Pills has not caused me to go out and have indiscriminate sex with strangers, or beat anybody up, or abuse any children. Making a commitment to not participate in certain activities has kept me out of certain situations, and The Pill still has nothing to do with it.

If I had the money, I'd throw my own billboards into the roadside debate, and they'd say "ORGANIZED RELIGION IS DANGEROUS." Yeah, the Baptists convinced me to wait 'til marriage, but just look at what the Catholics are trying to tell people! Birth Control tied to Domestic Violence? Hello?? What are they going to try to tell us next? Does coffee cause car theft? Does microwave popcorn cause mortgage foreclosure? Does foul language cause kidney stones? Does cheap shampoo cause bad TV reception?? NO!!!

Birth Control prevents pregnancy. Information prevents bad choices.

Misleading people under the guise of religion is wrong.

More Later... _\,,/

(Oh man, I wonder how many Google hits this one will get.)

((And Heyyyy, the "Comment Options" box came back!!))

Friday, December 01, 2006

Snow Day 2: More Fun With Wierd Habits

I'm not much of a TV watcher -- I have two regular weekly shows I try to keep up with ("One Tree Hill" and "Seventh Heaven," go ahead and make fun of me now); most of the time, if I have the TV on, it's more like background noise; especially at night.

Okay, mostly at night. The late-night re-runs are how I got hooked on two shows I never watched as first-run shows. I never watched "Frasier" when it was on every week -- I discovered it by leavin' the TV on when the news went off; and I got hooked. Same with "Sex And The City," I got hooked on the re-runs and I love it now.

As a near-anxious elementary school kid (anxious as in I was that kid who barfed in the driveway every time we had to leave the house after dark), I used to fall asleep with the sleep timer on the radio every night. I (thankfully) got past that as I got older. A little over four years ago, with the "Common-Law Widow Experience," I didn't sleep for quite a while, and then for several months I slept on the couch with the TV on. I don't know why, but I just couldn't fall asleep in my bed; even though I was back home in the bed that I'd had since eighth grade, I slept on the couch for a long time.

When I did finally start sleeping in my own bed (with the mattress out of the spare bedroom -- cats + waterbed = big mess), I got in the habit of falling asleep with the TV's sleep timer. My Mom does it, a few of my friends have mentioned doing it, so I figure it can't be so bad. I've yet to break that habit -- if I'm in bed alone, I've got the TV on with the sleep timer set.

Last night when I snuggled up under my blanket, the channel with "Frasier" wouldn't come in, and niether would "SATC," so I ended up listening to "Letterman" -- I set the sleep timer and took off my glasses to drift in and out like I usually do.

I have no idea who the chick was, I didn't try to get my glasses back on and get a look, and I don't even remember for sure where the event took place; but she was talking about a vacation someplace real tropical-like. I was just almost asleep when I heard her say that she came back to the room and found a five foot baboon sitting in the middle of the bed eating a chocolate bar.

I woke myself up giggling because the first thing that came to my mind was "Holy Shit, that's exactly what happened on my last NASCAR trip!" Her baboon probably wasn't suckin' on a bottle of room-temp Lone Star beer alongside the candy bar though, and I bet it didn't wipe it's ass on a hotel bath towel either.

Like Jill Conner-Browne says, "Life is too short, and too long to stick around doin' anything that doesn't make your heart sing!" I'm so thankful to be Happy now; and boy am I ever glad that guy is gone.

More later...

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