traffic

I realize, on one level, I should just stop taking things to heart so much and letting them annoy me, you people will be people and all that shit, but honestly...there are days when I wonder why the forces (read: God, Deity, Divine, Mr Magoo's erector set...) that created us wasted a brain on some folks. There’s the woman yesterday at a John McCain rally in South Carolina who was yaa-yaaing about the Democrats cutting funding for the Iraq war. “…and my nephew is in the Marines and he just deployed…and what, now they won’t get paid…?” GAH!! The urge to reach out a touch someone, with the broad side of a cricket bat. Of course they will get paid, you ignorant twat. They’re on the payroll, whether they are here, in Iraq, or Kalamazoo. Then, at a question and answer session for Democratic candidates out in Nevada with George Stephanopoulos, he said Ne-vah-da and they all jumped on him and said, it’s Nevaaada…GAH!! I don’t care what the ignorant yay-hoos think, it’s the feminine Spanish “covered in snow” and is therefore ne-VAH-da…so if someone wants to say it that way, let them. It’s like the putzes here who say San juh-sin-tuh and if you say it properly, San ha-SEEN-toh, they have no clue what you are saying. Salado has become suh-LAY-doh and prah-leen, pray-leen. *sighs*

Arseholes.

You already got my rant yesterday about the idjit doctor in Bakersfield. I think I’m perhaps less angry at him, as one whackjob, than I am at the AMA for not enforcing the Hippocratic oath as a whole.

Then there’s the people who expect Hillary to apologize for voting for authorizing the Iraqi Blunder. Folks…just how stupid is this? Why the hell should she have to apologize? Apologizing would mean that you KNEW it was wrong at the time and did it anyway. All these bozos voted for the measure, based on the information they were given at the time (which we now know was patently false and trumped up by the fucktard administration). She shouldn’t have to apologize, none of them should, unless they were in on the planning meetings for the dissemination of misinformation that took place.

It’s odd, that so many times throughout history, people have declared that society was falling apart, the youth are horrible, etc., and somehow, we always managed to keep going. However, lately, I’m beginning to believe it’s finally gotten to that point and because we’ve cried wolf so many times before, no one’s paying attention. We’re vastly over-populating this tiny planet, using up resources and polluting the water and air at a rate that’s beyond alarming…building on valuable farmland, producing more kids and more kids…that will think it’s their right to have the “American Dream” and build yet more single-family dwellings.

And don’t even get me started on these “quiver full” idiots…”ruining women’s bodies so that men can show how virile they are” should be their slogan. You know, if they kept their own views on birth control to themselves, I wouldn’t mind quite so much, as it is the women’s right to be cows if they so choose, but the Christian right would have ALL of us conform to their idiocy. I will say it one more time:

My.body.is.none.of.your.fucking.business.

Period, end of discussion.

And I have never looked at either of my children as burdens, thank you, even though I only had two. I can only handle one kid at a time. If I’d had more, I would have probably ended up like the poor Yates woman.

I believe there are actually a few people calling themselves Christians out there who are good people, who actually follow what Jesus taught, but the overwhelming majority of them are unbridled hypocrites. This does not surprise me in the least. Recently I had a discussion with the young woman who is our IT tech, I’ll call her Robin. I was engaging in one of my favorite pastimes, bushbashing (okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have been, but, it’s me…get over it) and she speaks up and says she doesn’t question those put in authority, our leaders, etc. That “God Almighty” (I swear she actually said that) put them there for a reason and it’s not our place to question them (although she did say she didn’t like Billy…truly a case of “whose ox..yada yada”). I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes at her and went on bushbashing. Later I really wanted to ask her, so…you’re an Hispanic from the Valley, right? So you’re most likely Catholic…you believe priests and cardinals and the like were put in their positions by God, yes? (At which point, the observant person would see the train coming.)

So you’d just let them rape you, molest you, get you pregnant, etc and not question it? Answer would probably be…well, uh…no…but…stammer…stammer and then some patent “they were not being good Christians, etc. (Or worse, I was being punished for some reason.)

So, Miss Robin, what if the purpose of putting those priests there was to help root out the evil in the church, by making everyone stand up and do something about it. (And please, those of you who believe that rape victims deserve it because they’ve been immodest or sinful…just get your heads out of your asses so you don’t trip as you leave) and further that possibly God put criminals like Bush, Cheney, and Rove in charge to make us wake up and take charge and stop being sheep?

wigglies

If you can wade thru the first several paragraphs of wallowy self-crappatizing, I think I say something at the end.

I seem to never be in the mood to write when I have the time to write--or, more properly, when I'm not doing something else that requires my attention, like work...or driving. Being ADD can really sap your momentum in writing...all those thoughts, whirling around...like the keys in that scene from the first Harry Potter movie....at least I guess I should be glad these winged keys (as in the openers of further thought and perhaps writage) don't attack.

Or do they? Thoughts can be wonderful things, open doors, find hidden meanings, rectify situations, calm the wretched soul and all that jazz. But they can also wound, even if they never leave your mind and make the wavy trip across time and space to someone else's mind. I suppose there are those people out there whose thoughts are always cheerful, positive, and uplifting, constantly telling themselves they are loved, worthwhile and great coffee makers. The rest of us have to work ourselves up to saying, hey..give yourself a bushin’ break here. (In an effort to clean up my language, I’ve decided to use less objectionable curse words…bush is a four-letter word in my house…however, upon further consideration, I believe fuck is less objectionable.)

Whether it’s worrying about things that might happen…could happen…omg, will happen if I don’t do X, or because I’ve done X…or there’s this odd mole, or…fuck, I’m rambling. Having the kid chatter in my ear while I’m trying to write doesn’t help at all. I’m distracted enough all on my own, thank you. I know a lot of my blog has to do with not be able to measure up to what I think my blog should be (did I say something about negative thoughts?), but it’s aggravating…in my mind, on the way home, I compose all sorts of poignant, hysterically funny, and/or interesting entries. When I finally sit down at the computer ZOTZ!! Gone. And no, do not suggest a tape recorder. a) I never know what to say into those things and b) I cannot STAND my voice.

Most of the time I think I’m not introspective enough, I don’t look in and examine things and work them out, then other times, I feel I live all my life within my own mind (and who knows, perhaps we do). But I suppose there’s a difference between living in the nevernever land of your mind and actually examining what’s there, analysing it and processing the information to better ourselves. But lately I feel like I’m treading water, there is no life, no purpose…are we truly just workerbees, turning out more workerbees, from whose ranks a few leaderbees emerge…and why am I wallowing in self-indulgent, pseudo-speak? Ramble ramble ramble.

Perhaps I burn out all my good stuff fantasizing about what I would say to so-n-so, if only I had them here. Here’s the one that had me going yesterday:

http://www.kget.com/news/local/story.aspx?content_id=f290458b-dd7d-4a20-ac99-525e48365b08

Okay, so there’s the Hippocratic oath right out the window, along with “..suffer the little children..,” not to mention the whole Mary Magdalene lesson is totally lost on this guy. I’m hoping he comes down with some fatal tumor… and the only person who can save his judgmental ass is the world’s most gifted surgeon, who’s totally decked out in tats and piercings. Dr. Merrill, meet Karma…Karma be a bitch, yo.

I’m sorry, but this guy should be immediately barred from practicing. No, it is not your right as a doctor—you are NOT fucking like a restaurant, you hypocritical bastard—to refuse care because your uptight ass can’t deal with a few tats and pieces of metal. I’m not wild about overly tattooedness, either (and yes, I do have one myself), and piercing anything but ears and navels just grosses me out….but I would not turn anyone away because of it.

There are a few losers out there who think this behavior is acceptable, that it’s his “right” to refuse “service.” Gah!!!! People, medical care is not “service.” Oil changes are “service.” And, while I’m blatantly not a Christian, I know there are actually a lot of good ones out there still and this kind of crap really hurts them. I don’t ever presume to speak for the Divine, but I sure hope Jesus and his Daddy have something special planned for this guy’s going away party.

shoot me

So... You didn't *really* expect me to keep up with this, did you? It's me!

I'm not thinking too straight today, I have some rather painful thing going on with the left side of my jaw. I don't know if it's TMJ or some sort of deeper, tooth-related thing. I will admit, I haven't been utterly religious about flossing...

Tonto is in the shop again. Several weeks ago it was the radiator, this time it's the water pump. I think I could put a sizable down payment on a new car for what I've spent on Tonto this past 12 months. But I couldn't afford the payment, so....

Yes, it's one of those entries....lots of these ....... Sue me.

I'm beginning to think my life is one big ellipse. I can't remember what happened when, so.... an ellipse fills the duhhhh space. I don't know how I'm going to do X, so another ........ I don't know how things relate, end, or even how the human mind comes to operate the way it does...you guessed it, another ............................

Wha'??

Okay, why is it, that the VA allows the symbol of this upstart little religion (which, by the way has some of the same tenets as Wicca) Konko-Kyo, on headstones, but not the Wiccan pentagram. What THE hey??

There are some religions on the VA site that, I'm sorry, I never fucking heard of....and, quite frankly seem a bit...contrived. Here...Meet David Koresh, you can have his symbol on your headstone when your country sends you off to die in an illegal war, but you can't have the symbol of one of the, collectively-speaking, oldest religions on earth.

The way I look at it is if more than 50 military members are card-carryin' members of a religion, then they should recognize it and allow the symbol...after all..who the fuck's grave is it anyway??

One of the symbols you can have is not even a religion...it's for a building...yes, a building. Granted, it's part of the Shinto faith, but it's still a building.

The VA needs to get its collective heads out of its collective ass.

books and their covers

How many times have we been told not to judge a book by its cover? No matter how long we live, we don't seem to get the message.

I work with a major whom I have dubbed Major Annoying. And for good reason. Dealing with him is often like trying to herd cats. He's presumptuous, needy and a slacker. I'd accused him (out of earshot) of being a suck-up to a retired 3-star who had commissioned through our detachment.

Well, here's where I got my come-uppance. He's known the 3-star since the Oklahoma City bombing, where the major, then a captain, was in charge of the USAF detail that went in and dug people out...the only live person they got out was a 19 YO, black female...whose leg they had to chop off in order to get her out. He's paid his dues. No more Major Annoying.

fuck it

I am sick to death of trying to fight the war that the mistakes of the education system has caused. William just won't do his homework. Won't. Okay, I'm 54 and went to the best public schools in the country in the 50s and 60s, courtesy of Cedar Rapids IA.

Half-day for kindergarten NO HOMEWORK.

9-3 or 3:30 (can't remember now) for 1st thru 3rd NO HOMEWORK.

We had recess BOTH mornings and afternoons, and as I remember 40 minutes for lunch, or was it an hour...and we LEARNED!!!! Fancy fucking that. We learned, with less time in the classroom and no homework. We learned more than kids learn today. We had mastered cursive by the end of third grade (William's 3rd grade class didn't even start), we had mastered the times tables by the end of 3rd grade (well, I hadn't quite, but I still did just fine).

Homework started in the fourth grade, it was a rite of passage, we were big kids now. I am sure my parents had to bug me some, but I just do not remember the ongoing, hair-tearing, nail-pulling, tortuous ordeal that I have to go through with William to get him to do the little piddly bit of homework that he has. And why? Because he's had homework since he was fucking five years old!!! No chance to be a kid, home-fucking-work.

Just when I had made a pledge to stop using the f-word and all its derivatives I finally come to the end of my rope about homework. I also stopped spanking...actually I stopped that some time ago, because all it does is make him angry and in the end makes things worse.

Here's how school worked 4th thru 6th grade for me. Half the kids would have homeroom in the morning, that is one teacher all morning who taught history, social studies, and language arts. The other half of the kids had that class in the afternoon. The other half of the day we had math every day for an hour, and then alternated music with art and science with PE. If you had music and science on MWF and art and PE on TTh in the fall, then in the spring, you'd reverse, along with reversing homeroom--fall morning kids became spring afternoon kids.

It worked, music and art were not referred to as "specials," they were a regular part of the curriculum. And we had homework from homeroom, math, and science. Sure, I was a slacker, and I know I didn't do it sometimes, but I also know I did not have this constant battle with my parents about it.

With a kid like William, and I think a lot of other kids, they are sick and fucking goddamned tired of homework. They've all but done away with recess, the poor kids have to be there at 7:50 in the morning (we got there at 9 and left at 3), and leave at 3:05. For several years he had lunch as early as TEN THIRTY in the morning!!

I won't even get into the whole issue about if you add the white, black, and Asian kids together, it still wouldn't equal the Hispanics, so all the assemblies have to be translated for parents who either can't or won't learn the language of their adopted country, and won't stop talking for teachers and admins who speak at these things...constantly running off at the mouth and letting their smaller children scream and carry on....because of course, if I say anything...I'm labeled a bigot. Which I'm not. I just think that if you move to a new country, do not expect everyone to change what THEY do to suit your laziness.

So, I'm going to sit William down and tell him: Homework is YOUR responsibility, not mine. I can't browbeat you into it, I can't do it for you. So...if you still want to be in the fourth grade at 15...I suppose that's your issue.

I'm sure that makes me sound like a horrible mom...got any suggestions?