Well, I am finally getting the hang of this blogspot thing. I found a community of people in my demographic and even bookmarked a few I might read later. I was kind of disappointed to find only a few real blogs. I like blogs with bite. I think everybody has drama and issues, but if you blog like you don't, it's boring! Ugh. I want to read the good stuff!
Anyway, seeing the other blogs also gave me some motiviation to clean this place up a bit. Start proofreading, for instance. I may just go back and edit this for brevity and clarity.
Well, there is this one blog I read and did not like at all. Make that two. Do you know why I didn't like them? B/c the writers had fat bias. I once had fat bias myself, but I got over that.
Let me tell the whole four-year-long story in a paragraph or so, for clarity and brevity. Used to have fat bias myself, got pregnant, woo-hoo started to eat. I mean what I wanted and when I wanted. I enjoyed it, I gained alot of weight. People in general and at work specifically began to have a different attitude toward me. I was now treated like I had become lazier and dumber. That's right, instead of getting smarter and better at a job I had been experiencing and grinding away at for years, I had become lazier and dumber b/c of my weight gain. This is true. That's how the world looks at fat people. The phrase, 'how lazy and dumb are you?' is written all over their face. I thought I was the insightful one and they had their heads up their ass and I was not going to conform to society b/c I thought society was being a little superficial on this one.
So, I bucked the system and had another kid and gained even more weight than before. And then they cut my uterus out. I'm not sure which doc did it, I was under at the time. But when I came up, well not right away, but when I realized I wasn't going to have kids anymore, I decided to change my image. So, I did. So, I am. I was only allowing myself the excess b/c I was in the child-bearing phase of my life and I don't think it's healthy to diet and exercise when trying to carry children. For me anyway. Alot of people will tell you different. alot of people, that is, WHO HAVE NEVER DELIVERED A HEALTHY CHILD! Those fuckers. Shove your fucking advice up your you-know-what.
I say that b/c most moms I know believe in the supersitious-ness of it, too. And if you know what you need to do to have a healthy baby for you, than do it. What works for me, will not necessarily work for everyone. Most real moms know this. Your sports nut doctor and well-meaning co-workers should just shut their trap. You know why? B/c I never go around and dole out my advice on fly-fishing to an avid fisherman b/c I have never been fishing before and that wouldn't make sense. Anyway, when it comes to pregnancy, the opposite is true. Anyone who has read a book or article or their horoscope feels entitled to offer their advice. Shoot, this was supposed to be short. I got off on a tangent. The point is, in case anyone missed it, if you are childless, don't offer advice on pregnancy. To anyone, ever. You are not in the club. Shut the fuck up. It's irrelevant. Even you doctors, out there, reading this blog(who knows). Don't get me started on doctors.
OK, I am started on doctors. I feel like I could treat myself better with google than to waste my time going in to see a doctor. It's really that they have the prescription meds on lock down (the doctors) that keep us all under control. I know when my kids need antibiotics, if I could go get them I would. But I can't, I have to come to you and get a prescription.
I actually treat my family and tell them when they've been misdiagnosed and I'm always right! My husband didn't believe me, I told him there was no way he had what he had been told he had. I told him to tell the doctor to try and google it again. He snickered at me, but carried on his woe-is-me I have a strange disease routine. Until, it turns out I was right. haha. Hate to earn my credibility with I-told-you-so's but--no I don't--I love it. I told you so, I was right, earned credibility ranking going hiiigghherr..
I tried to move into dental work but my niece wouldn't let me. I tell her that I am just as qualified as any dentist b/c I have access to google and have read the same thing they have read before doing this procedure. And even with another family member vouching for my prowess, she still wouldn't let me continue. I am just saying that if it was 150 years ago, I would be the local doctor around here. All the pioneers would be coming to see me. But google wouldn't be around. So, I'd just give 'em a shot of whiskey and set their bone, or pull their tooth, or saw their leg off. But, those specialized surgeons still get a little of my respect. And I only have a little left. B/c I can't anesthetize someone, or cut their body open and fix their hearts, or brains. But the other type of doctors. O. M. G.
But back to my point. What bothers me the most about fat bias is how stupid it is. But we can't even see it b/c we are so one-dimensional about this topic. I know some hilarious and brilliant people who are fat. And making fun of fat people or using fat people as a punch line doesn't make fat people look bad. It makes you look bad! (directed to person making the fat remark) Somehow, being fit, gives people a trump card these days. I don't agree with it.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Destiny Thief
I have this theory. I have this theory that is completely fanciful, but the older I get and the more experiences Ihave, the more I think there may be more to it...
I first noticed it in my mid-20s. I realized my good friend had found herself a sweetheart and settled down while I was single and working. Hers was the fate I had wanted, and mine was the future she envisioned for herself years before. How did this happen? Were we on track to fulfill our destinies, crossed paths with one another, and left each other's company with destinies switched?
Had she stolen my destiny?
Had I stolen hers?
Was destiny really a tangible thing? And would it be so fluid and uncertain in your aura that the slightest aura-mingling could send it off course? Perhaps. Perhaps you will believe more with my next examples. Follow me another year down the road.
I was moved into another position within the company I worked for. It would be a more difficult position and I would have to prove myself. Love those work speeches they give you to make you take harder jobs, huh? Anyway, in order for me to take this position, they had to move another girl they had promised it to out. Don't get me wrong, she had a much nicer location than I did, so nobody was getting salted here. Well, wouldn't you know this other girl gets into serious trouble and basically fired over this embarrassing incident mixing alchohol and work. The funny thing is, I had done the same types of things, but never been caught at it. And she was in the job, I should have had. While I was in the job that was supposed to be hers. Meanwhile, she leaves the company (which is what I wanted to do) and I am up in her spot at work. Stole her destiny, too.
Things are starting to add up here.
It happens a few other times since, but those were really small potatoes and not worthy of mention.
But now I see it happening again. You know tomorrow is supposed to be my big day. This is supposed to be my month. This is supposed to be the month I cashed in my chips and settled down to the SAHM lifestyle. And, AGAIN, (this is starting to get eerie) I am a victim of circumstance and wind up having to stick it out working for a year longer. While, a co-worker of mine, someone who would gladly stick around work, is being forced out of employment. Why are they making that person leave and me stay? Oh, the fates are cruel. From this perspective anyway.
I want to apologize. To all the people whose destiny I have stolen. Whether we had a conversation, passed each other in a hall, shared a dance, heck-shared a pizza, and after that choice cosmic meeting I departed with your destiny. To all of you I am sorry. I did not mean to do it. I had no intention of taking this long and winding road.
If I could find some way to put a cap on it, I would. If only I could stop my destiny from escaping me and attaching to another soul, pushing their destiny out and onto me.
I wonder if I am the only one who has had this idea. I wonder if it's not part of some archaic belief somewhere...Hmmm...I'm gonna google it.
I first noticed it in my mid-20s. I realized my good friend had found herself a sweetheart and settled down while I was single and working. Hers was the fate I had wanted, and mine was the future she envisioned for herself years before. How did this happen? Were we on track to fulfill our destinies, crossed paths with one another, and left each other's company with destinies switched?
Had she stolen my destiny?
Had I stolen hers?
Was destiny really a tangible thing? And would it be so fluid and uncertain in your aura that the slightest aura-mingling could send it off course? Perhaps. Perhaps you will believe more with my next examples. Follow me another year down the road.
I was moved into another position within the company I worked for. It would be a more difficult position and I would have to prove myself. Love those work speeches they give you to make you take harder jobs, huh? Anyway, in order for me to take this position, they had to move another girl they had promised it to out. Don't get me wrong, she had a much nicer location than I did, so nobody was getting salted here. Well, wouldn't you know this other girl gets into serious trouble and basically fired over this embarrassing incident mixing alchohol and work. The funny thing is, I had done the same types of things, but never been caught at it. And she was in the job, I should have had. While I was in the job that was supposed to be hers. Meanwhile, she leaves the company (which is what I wanted to do) and I am up in her spot at work. Stole her destiny, too.
Things are starting to add up here.
It happens a few other times since, but those were really small potatoes and not worthy of mention.
But now I see it happening again. You know tomorrow is supposed to be my big day. This is supposed to be my month. This is supposed to be the month I cashed in my chips and settled down to the SAHM lifestyle. And, AGAIN, (this is starting to get eerie) I am a victim of circumstance and wind up having to stick it out working for a year longer. While, a co-worker of mine, someone who would gladly stick around work, is being forced out of employment. Why are they making that person leave and me stay? Oh, the fates are cruel. From this perspective anyway.
I want to apologize. To all the people whose destiny I have stolen. Whether we had a conversation, passed each other in a hall, shared a dance, heck-shared a pizza, and after that choice cosmic meeting I departed with your destiny. To all of you I am sorry. I did not mean to do it. I had no intention of taking this long and winding road.
If I could find some way to put a cap on it, I would. If only I could stop my destiny from escaping me and attaching to another soul, pushing their destiny out and onto me.
I wonder if I am the only one who has had this idea. I wonder if it's not part of some archaic belief somewhere...Hmmm...I'm gonna google it.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Uhhhhhh
My head hurt this morning. I drank too much wine last night. My mom is here to help watch the kids, so there's no danger. I don't know what got into me. I decided to blog it out, like any cool person with tons of friends and an active social life would do. That's sarcasm, of course.
Now, I kind of feel like an idiot b/c I also sent a few really emotional e-mails. I couldn't help myself. It was one of those episodes where everything is super serious and dramatic. I am actually kind of embarrassed, now, in my more conservative sober mode.
I was thinking of deleting my drunk rants from this blog. But then again, I may want to look back on them later and get a laugh at myself.
Now, I kind of feel like an idiot b/c I also sent a few really emotional e-mails. I couldn't help myself. It was one of those episodes where everything is super serious and dramatic. I am actually kind of embarrassed, now, in my more conservative sober mode.
I was thinking of deleting my drunk rants from this blog. But then again, I may want to look back on them later and get a laugh at myself.
Friday, July 9, 2010
you know what?
I am going to drop the F word in this blog. B/c I have been drinking and my inner voice is passionate about what it wants to say!
You know what?!
Fuck you!
Fuck you, all you bloggers who act like your life is so fucking perfect. And you're in love, or every dark cloud has a silver lining. Fuck you.
Seriously, is anyone really living like that? If you say yes, fuck you. Fuck the fuck out of you.
b/c you know what?!
I just called my husband. And he didn't answer the phone.
Now that can mean a few things.
It could mean that he is still pissed from some stupid little fight/misunderstanding we had last week, that I thought we were over. And if he is still pissed about that. Then Fuck You, Too. B/c seriously, don't get me started. You can't hold grudges in a marriage. You gotta allow me the fucking room to fucking fuck up sometimes. OK? B/c I am going to fuck up. And we are going to fight about it. And I am too fucking proud (you will interrupt here and say that is the problem) to back down from an argument or admit error. So, you should just let me be me and do me and not try to rub my face in shit. Seriously. B/c I am not the type of person to grovel or eat shit. I will be wrong, proudly, and say oh, fuck you, get over it but I'm not apologizing.
You know, now I am getting off track. But, you know. Hold on. (drinks wine). This shiraz is ok. This is new. I like shiraz. But where was I? Oh, yeah, don't fucking marry me and respect me as a woman and a human being and have 2 sons by me and THEN. and THEN. Fucking try to humble me and relegate me to some corner of your life. And make me a fixture. You know? B/c I am a fucking human being. And I want to go back to school so I can do humanitarian work. And you know that. So, don't put me in some paint by colors corner of your life and put me in this position where my greatest contribution to life is vacuuming a fucking carpet. B/c you know what, TJ, you know what? I can vacuum the shit out of a carpet. But, I have a fucking calling. And I want to do humanitarian work. So, let me have a fucking chance, ok?
I just proofread this and I don't even remember what I was going to get at anymore. But I got off point and I still think that was a good point.
Do you remember when I was flying out of Indianapolis, TJ? And I called you about that poem on the wall. I had tears in my eyes, did you know? b/c it reminded me so much of us. I don't cry that often, even in front of you, you who knows me very well. But the poem is on my blog here. The part that struck me so hard was about how the writer was saying I will bring you a whole person and you will bring me a whole person and we will have twice as much of love and everything. Then later in the poem it says, the writer say that although their heart they are bringing do have dents and scars, the other partner is bringing polish like he do intend to make it shine. And that reminded me so much of you. B/c you try to hard and put up with all my shit. You know , you take alot. I know I am a dramatic woman, at times. But you never give up, and you are always holding everything togethor when I get into my (occasional) rants and raves.
But then I called you to tell you how much the poem had touched me, and reminded me of us. But I kinda felt like you didn't get it. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
I guess, when I see you next time. We will try to sort it out.
Answer the fucking phone!
You know what?!
Fuck you!
Fuck you, all you bloggers who act like your life is so fucking perfect. And you're in love, or every dark cloud has a silver lining. Fuck you.
Seriously, is anyone really living like that? If you say yes, fuck you. Fuck the fuck out of you.
b/c you know what?!
I just called my husband. And he didn't answer the phone.
Now that can mean a few things.
It could mean that he is still pissed from some stupid little fight/misunderstanding we had last week, that I thought we were over. And if he is still pissed about that. Then Fuck You, Too. B/c seriously, don't get me started. You can't hold grudges in a marriage. You gotta allow me the fucking room to fucking fuck up sometimes. OK? B/c I am going to fuck up. And we are going to fight about it. And I am too fucking proud (you will interrupt here and say that is the problem) to back down from an argument or admit error. So, you should just let me be me and do me and not try to rub my face in shit. Seriously. B/c I am not the type of person to grovel or eat shit. I will be wrong, proudly, and say oh, fuck you, get over it but I'm not apologizing.
You know, now I am getting off track. But, you know. Hold on. (drinks wine). This shiraz is ok. This is new. I like shiraz. But where was I? Oh, yeah, don't fucking marry me and respect me as a woman and a human being and have 2 sons by me and THEN. and THEN. Fucking try to humble me and relegate me to some corner of your life. And make me a fixture. You know? B/c I am a fucking human being. And I want to go back to school so I can do humanitarian work. And you know that. So, don't put me in some paint by colors corner of your life and put me in this position where my greatest contribution to life is vacuuming a fucking carpet. B/c you know what, TJ, you know what? I can vacuum the shit out of a carpet. But, I have a fucking calling. And I want to do humanitarian work. So, let me have a fucking chance, ok?
I just proofread this and I don't even remember what I was going to get at anymore. But I got off point and I still think that was a good point.
Do you remember when I was flying out of Indianapolis, TJ? And I called you about that poem on the wall. I had tears in my eyes, did you know? b/c it reminded me so much of us. I don't cry that often, even in front of you, you who knows me very well. But the poem is on my blog here. The part that struck me so hard was about how the writer was saying I will bring you a whole person and you will bring me a whole person and we will have twice as much of love and everything. Then later in the poem it says, the writer say that although their heart they are bringing do have dents and scars, the other partner is bringing polish like he do intend to make it shine. And that reminded me so much of you. B/c you try to hard and put up with all my shit. You know , you take alot. I know I am a dramatic woman, at times. But you never give up, and you are always holding everything togethor when I get into my (occasional) rants and raves.
But then I called you to tell you how much the poem had touched me, and reminded me of us. But I kinda felt like you didn't get it. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
I guess, when I see you next time. We will try to sort it out.
Answer the fucking phone!
Why, yes, I have been drinking
Have you, or has anyone out there, ever had the urge to cuss out an answering machine b/c why the f&*^ aren't they answering. Is it b/c they know it is you. Then, the whole time I am listening to this message, I am taking it personally. Like, the person is not answering b/c they know it is me and don't want to accept my call. When I hear the beep, after I have built up this anger for the past 20 seconds or so, I want to cuss them out. I want to say, "Aw, fuck you, go to hell." as my message.
Then I flash back to 5 years ago, or so, and I remember my sister calling a guy and getting the answering machine. I remember how she wanted to call back and cuss out that answering machine. The same way I do right now. I remember stopping her and saying that he probably really was still working since the last time they talked, since he and I were in the same line of work, and hadn't gotten a chance to call back. Really. Just give him two hours. And you know what? They are happily married right now with a beautiful baby boy.
Sigh.
So, I don't cuss out the answering machine but I still feel so angry that MY call wasn't answered. In my head, he glances at the phone, sees it's me, thinks 'oh, big deal. she just wants to complain about the dishes or vacuuming. I'm busy.' and doesn't answer. Then I feel enraged b/c I drank wine and watched a movie after the kids went to bed. Sometimes I get all feisty when I drink. Just let an answering machine answer...B/c hey, I'm not home right now, sometimes. Just a few sometimes. Those are fighting words.
But whatever.
I want to wax philosophical to my blog here. and I don't think one post will do. I am going to post this and write ANOTHER one.
Then I flash back to 5 years ago, or so, and I remember my sister calling a guy and getting the answering machine. I remember how she wanted to call back and cuss out that answering machine. The same way I do right now. I remember stopping her and saying that he probably really was still working since the last time they talked, since he and I were in the same line of work, and hadn't gotten a chance to call back. Really. Just give him two hours. And you know what? They are happily married right now with a beautiful baby boy.
Sigh.
So, I don't cuss out the answering machine but I still feel so angry that MY call wasn't answered. In my head, he glances at the phone, sees it's me, thinks 'oh, big deal. she just wants to complain about the dishes or vacuuming. I'm busy.' and doesn't answer. Then I feel enraged b/c I drank wine and watched a movie after the kids went to bed. Sometimes I get all feisty when I drink. Just let an answering machine answer...B/c hey, I'm not home right now, sometimes. Just a few sometimes. Those are fighting words.
But whatever.
I want to wax philosophical to my blog here. and I don't think one post will do. I am going to post this and write ANOTHER one.
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