it seems that more and more tragic events are hitting. a dear friend suffered a devastating blow this week. another had an incredibly close call. maybe it’s simply part of becoming a grown up (in which case i wish i call dibs on playing peter pan FOREVER). maybe it’s simply my time in the karmic cycle of crap. either way, there’s a side effect that i’ve know about, and written about for YEARS, but until today i’ve never put a name to it or really understood what it might be.
a week or so ago i discovered some old journals and read through them. it was something i could have written last week, not 7 years ago. even older journal said the same question over and over: WHY ME? and not why me as in the sad panda, tragic, sad story, why does everything happen to me. but why me as in why did i make it out the other side of the tunnel? what preserved me and let me make it through? what is my greater purpose that’s keeping me on this shit pile we call earth? why hasn’t my cosmic timer dinged yet? i’ve asked the same question over and over. i’ve written about it. and today i researched it a bit- in a twisted, fucked up way (but of course, it is me after all…) i think it’s a form of survivors guilt.
i had a kid at 17. i still graduated high school and went on to graduate from a four year college with an advanced degree. WHY? what made me so different from the other 98% of teem moms that drop out of school to never return? what made me so special that the doors opened up (full ride scholarship) and opportunities were thrown in front of me? what made me decide to take those opportunities?
in the same line- i had a kid at 17. it was an easy, text book pregnancy. delivery was less than text book, but we both made it out healthy with no worries or problems. WHY ME? why was it so easy for me to get knocked up (not even kidding…first time out of the gate kids)? why did i have such an easy unplanned pregnancy when other people have been sick or concerned or worried through the whole nine months? why did i get knocked up the first shot when others have tried for years and done things in the right order (aka not being 17 and single and in high school). why did i get knocked up right away with BOTH my kids when people like my SIL had to suffer through several miscarriages? what made my uterus so magical and fertile? why were mine so healthy and boring when others barely (or not at all) make it through?
what made me be able to walk away from an abusive marriage in one piece when others can not and have not made it out? what made it so easy for me to get an incredible job that i’m still at 10 years later? why have other friends had such a hard time getting good work and i just fell into mine? what has kept me (knock on wood) in such good health over the years when other people have had to battle through cancer, sickness, health problems? what has allowed me to be successful in life where i can support my family on one income when so many others are barely scraping by on two? what has moved me to this point in my life?
some of it is just my own damn hard work. some of it is luck. some of it is genetics. i’d have to say all those combined together equal about 5% of why i am where i am today. the other 95% is that there is some greater cosmic purpose to my life. BUT I CAN’T FUCKING FIGURE IT OUT. there is a reason i had my son early. there is a reason i stayed in school. there is a reason my health and well being has been preserved. i believe i am mean for something. my kids are meant for something. we have something that is yet to be accomplished in this life. but yet knowing that doesn’t erase the guilt. that doesn’t make me feel any better about making it this far. it makes me feel bad that other people completed their purpose early on. it makes me feel guilty that i haven’t figured mine out yet. ok. pause for a moment. i call bullshit on what i just said. i DON’T think everyone gets to complete their purpose. i look at all the missing people around and i can’t see their purpose. i can’t see what they accomplished or did to deserve to be taken this early. they didn’t get their full time here. how can an infant that has never drawn a breath have completed his time here? how can a precious helluva fighter 8 month old baby girl have done all she was born to do? how could either of the mothers lost at the same time have accomplished what they were here to do? it’s BULLSHIT. there is no reason for their leaving. which makes it even harder to be left behind. they were both amazing women. both perfectly innocent children. what made them be taken before me- the fuck up? what justice is there in that?
there’s just SO MUCH anger and guilt. i want to know why. i want to know why i’ve been left here and why i’ve made it. why have i been spared? what is my greater purpose? what am i here to do? how can i earn my spot in this small patch of universe?
if anyone has the answers…
Friday, February 26, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
disney movies...from my perspective:
ok kids. the olympics are on, so its time for reruns...i originally wrote these blogs back in 2006...just a while ago...so they'll probably be new to almost all of you. i did a set of three blogs on disney movies- my take on them anyway. the blogs, as they are, are not "original"...they've been cleaned up and edited a bit due to time lapse and a surprising lack of editing the first time around. i've also combined them into one post. finally, the original blogs had pictures...but i'm too lazy to look them all up again, you you have to suffer with just text. i'm sure you'll get over it. ***warning: just got done combining them and it gets LONG. if you want to read it all at once, clear a little time...guess there's a reason it was three blogs to start***
1st up was DUMBO: bought this movie for my kids but then while watching it with them wondering if that was such a smart move. dumbo really IS NOT a kids movie! lesson #1 for parents: never EVER defend your kids: you'll be thrown in jail forever. that poor mother! everyone was hashing on her brand new baby and she tried to stick up for him and BAM. jail. locked up. poked with sticks. made fun of by obnoxious children. just let your kids get trashed on instead. teaches them character anyway, right? lesson #2 for everyone: don't drink with clowns. i knew they were freaky bastards to start out with, but really...what they hell were they drinking? and have you ever noticed how much they were drinking? i mean, really...whatever it was they were drinking was enough to get a fucking elephant toasted! enough for said elephant to end up in a tree! and an elephant weighs, what, close to three times most humans? and those clowns couldn't get enough! those are some sick freaks with some seriously damaged livers! i knew i hated clowns for a reason! lesson #3 for parents: exploit your children. when they hit it big because of some freak talent they discover during a drunken binge you can laugh at all the other people and get the best car on the train. become instantly famous off your kids and milk it for all it's worth!
next up: PINOCCHIO: what's wrong with pinocchio? cute little wooden boy just wants to be a real boy, fucks up a few times along the way, happy ending with the little family all back together...awwww...warm and fuzzy...then you look back at the beginning: creepy old toy maker wants a little boy of his own. i mean REALLY creepy old guy. little tiny dark shop on a back street that you never seen anyone in but him. he creates a little boy, and the first thing he does? tucks the kid in bed with himself. does that freak anyone else out? did they have sex offender lists back then? i would have run away the first day too if i was that little puppet. who knows what happened that first night! keep runnin kid...the whale may have been the best option! finally: don't trust anyone with "honest" in their name...chances are they aren't what they say they are. uh huh, that's right, captian obvious reminded me of that one. i mean really- if some talking animal tells you his name is honest john, don't waste time talking back to him, just pack his ass up and sell him to the zoo...talking animals go for quite a bit i hear...
next on the hit list: ROBIN HOOD. could be one of my favorite kids movies. great lessons: lesson number one: it's okay to steal whatever you want as long as it's from an asshole that sucks his thumb: cold hard cash, jewelry, solid gold hubcaps...take it all as long as the guy is a jerk and whines like a little baby. lesson number two: you can get away with any crime as long as you marry into the right family. all the theft mentioned above plus breaking and entering, impersonating an officer, assault on an officer, prison break...yeah, got away with it all by marrying the kings sister. GOOD MOVE. which makes me wonder...why aren't there ever any first sons? there are tons of presidential daughters that make the news, where's all the boys at? until they legalize gay marriage, i'm screwed on the pardon issue. damn. anywho, on to lesson number three: you can pull off lesson number one and two only if you're HOT. i will totally confess right here: i have a lil crush on ol' rob. great shirt tucked in just right, always well groomed even though he lives in the woods, in great physical shape (let's see you climb a castle wall with no hand grips!), always helping someone, and knows how to treat a lady right- flowers, kissing the hand, he's a regular charmer! smooth talker, fast thinker, can get out of any scrape...you notice little john never got the chick...just sayin is all...
moving on...after a moment...mmmmm...robin hood....HOT.
ok. moving on: POCAHONTAS: there's some great history lessons in this one...namely: history lesson number one: you can do whatever you want, and no one will know the truth once it's out on disney. seriously. disney will cut out the gruesome parts, throw in a few cute and cuddly woodland creatures, have a few celebrities record a sound track, and you. are. golden! disney did such a wonderful mop up job on this one. one of the worst tragedy's in american history came out sparkling cute and clean. forget the rape and mass murder and stealing of land. we'll just edit that part out, change it to a love story...throw in a cheeky raccoon and BAM. whole new american history. bright and shiny. imagine what they could do with a few others: the holocaust...throw in a couple singing german shepards, maybe a singing nun with a few unruly children here and there, cut out all the starvation, oppression, entire generation being descimated, death camps (maybe make them a "summer camp" and presto...disney quality movie. why not redo vietnam? add a few cute monkeys swinging from tropical trees in a lush green jungle, replace all the soldiers with the plastic soldiers from toy story, and don't forget how "in" camo is right now, costumes will be a smashing success, record a song or two with a good "jungle beat", , and there you go, kid friendly disney movie with outfits everyone will just have to have. marketing success and spit shined history all in one. SHA BAM.
**this was a break in the original blog. next was titled: what i learned from disney women**
first up: SLEEPING BEAUTY: where do you start with this one? i think that bitch got what she deserved...okay, maybe not what she deserved, but her parents were elitist assholes and got what they deserved! that poor "witch"! how would you feel if you were the ONLY person not invited to the baby shower? just because she's a middle aged single woman with no children of her own is no reason to call her a witch! i think she was the smartest one there! plus, she was probably just pissed off...changes are she was dating the king before his wife swooped in and stole him or something like that. they never show the back story. maybe she was just different than the rest of them...didn't want to be a soccer mom with a crappy sweater-set. i mean she was HOT!! why give that up just to fit in with all the other royalty? whatever the case, she should NOT have been neglected from the invite list. i would have been mad too. maybe arurora's parent should have paid a little more attention to miss manners. would it have really killed them just send an invite? for all they knew she could have had a previous engagement and not been able to make it...but no, they had to piss her off and then look what happened! you know the saying about a woman scorned, right? as to aruora herself...that bitch had it fucking easy. not one day of manual labor in her entire life. the one time she even gets close to doing something domestic she has to sleep it off for a hundred years...and you KNOW she played on that for the rest of her marriage to that poor sap: "honey, can you do the dishes tonight? remember what happened last time i tried to work..." and i'm sure she wasn't a beauty for very long...once the fairy magic wore off i bet it was a completely different story. i mean really, it took three fairies with magic wands to get her ready for the party. i'm SO not going to stress about taking five minutes in the morning by myself anymore. i mean three fairies...that's just two short of queer eye, and those boys don't even have magic wands! also important to remember, if he's really a prince, a little morning breath every now and again won't really matter. can you imagine one hundred years of morning breath? and he had to kiss her good enough to wake her lazy ass up!
CINDERELLA: blondes really do have more fun, don't they? the prince didn't even look at any of the other girls at the ball. the minute that fake bottle blonde walked in to the party he was in it head over heels (maybe just one glass heel...). what i want to know is what really happened that night? why was he so intent on finding her after just one dance and a little patio time? did she jack his wallet while they were dancing? was there a little more to that patio time than they showed? did he get a bad blood screen back after that night? i have a REALLY hard time believing a guy would go through all that trouble, out searching all night just to return a shoe. and lets not forget that she's another one of those girls that it took a fairy godmother with some heavy magic to get her ready for the party...and even with all that heavy magic it lasted what, four, five hours?? if that? lets see...i'm guessing the dance started around 8, add an hour for her to make her "fashionably late" entrance...puts her there at 9...DAMN...three hours for that magic to wear off. ha ha bitch...my fucking maybelline lasts all day! suck that! and just i have to say i'm on the side of the stepsisters when it comes to the whole dress thing. now i've never had sisters myself, but from what i hear swiping things from each others closet without asking is a serious offense...you just don't go there. and then to wear it right in front of them with the intent of stealing the guy they're crushing on...that's fucked up!! i say they let her off easy! a broken leg or two would have kept her home for the night!
SNOW WHITE: now, i will give this girl props: it didn't take a team of magic wands to get her all prettied up. she was the fairest one of all just by nature (although someone really should have warned her about using red of a lipstick with pale skin. i'm just sayin is all...). so her step-mom gets jealous and tries to kill her. i feel for ya sister...been there, done that (well, not the try and kill part, but my step mom was horrible too). chick runs away from home- good thinking, get out of the situation. but then what does she do? moves in with seven strange men (strange in the fact that she didnt know them). not only that, the FIRST seven men she runs across. doesn't even attempt to go it on her own. one of those chicks that always has to be with someone. lame. at least she worked for her keep...she wasn't a freeloading guest. not so great, but better than the others so far. but then the truth comes out: she's freaking anorexic. no wonder she's all willowy and slender with such pale skin. she was starving herself the whole time. when she did eat, she only ate one tiny bite of an apple. she didn't choke. she fucking passed out from lack of food. you know if she'd a bite of a big ol greasy burger once in a while none of the whole "oh...i'm dead" drama would have happened. and really, who takes fruit from some creepy old lady wandering around in the woods? shouldn't there have been a little warning bell going off? hmm...creepy old lady, wandering around the woods with obvious dementia, offering fruit that heaven only knows how old it is or where it's been...plus, it's fruit (don't even get me started on how evil fruit is). that's what you get for being all ohhh...i can only take a small bite of fruit. like those fucking bitches that go out to dinner to only order a leaf of lettuce and a glass of ice water. fuck you. eat some real food. if she'd been eating properly you know she would have just finished eating breakfast and not been starving- craving some form of food enough to make her take the apple. just like i say about all the models out there...if they'd just eat a cheeseburger we'd all be happier!! and how "heroic" was that prince anyway? just the first guy that happened along and had a glucose pack on him or whatever. can you imagine the brain damage after not being passed out that long? and i'm sure she wasn't smelling all that great after being stuffed in a glass box out in the woods for however long it took for that guy to show up.
movin' on: LADY AND THE TRAMP: just goes to show you that we all need our bad-boy fix or have to go see what's on the "other side of the tracks" at some point in our lives. and yes, some of us are unlucky enough to get "caught" when we cross paths with the scoundrel. it can even happen to the prissiest, most cultured, park avenue chicks too. at least lady was lucky enough though to rope (guilt) her tramp into sticking around and taking responsibility for his actions. this movie was great for the premarital sex debate. and in a disney movie to boot. hell yes you should test drive that tramp before you lock him up forever! at least they did attempt to scare young girls with the threat of getting knocked up and having to bear the shame and whispers of the other people know what's going on. tried to make it seem like a bad thing for a moment. it was funny how they threw in the sacrificial marriage proposal to make it better (even though he was really old and creepy and we knew she wouldn't go for it). also as a lesson: lady's people didn't kick her out of the house when they found out she was all knocked up. they were really cool about it...doesn't always end badly. finally, just a tip to prego people (or people with new babies): don't ignore your old friends...otherwise they'll get jealous and have to run out and get knocked up with the first tramp they can find just to get a little sympathy and attention. this whole thing could have been avoided if jim and darling had just paid a little more attention when the brat came on scene.
**almost done, hang in there. part three was shorter. here it is. oh...and also...prepare for a shift...part three was GOOD things about disney...seriously...GOOD things. i know. i still can't believe i did a post like that**
first happy movie: FOX AND THE HOUND: besides being absolutely in love with the two main characters (how can you not smile when you hear: "my name's copper, i'm a houng dog awoo woo woo") this is one of my favorite movies because of the simple lesson that it teaches: two completely opposite characters that are supposed to hate each other just because "that's how it is" turn out to be best friends. copper is not only supposed to HATE todd, he's supposed to hunt him down and kill him. happily, friendship prevails and these two stick it out even though everything is against them. guess it just makes me think about me and my small little circle of friends: some of us couldn't be more different when it comes to politics, religion, "look", upbringing- you name it we're different. but we still found enough common thread to be friends. i was raised to be an uuber religious, completely conservative republican (have fortunately overcome most of that). i have had to learn that there's a whole world of amazing people out there and if you hate them all just because "that's the way it is" then you're missing out on SO much. hopefully my kids will learn acceptance and tolerance from me and have a whole array of friends and people to enrich their time here, not just a small elite circle.
LION KING: real simple: listen to the crazy one. sometimes the craziest one is the one who has the best grip on things and really knows what's up.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST: a couple from this one: number 1: SMART GIRLS ARE HOT!! you can read books can still be damn sexy and fall in love and end up with a prince! number 2: it's never okay to be bullied or yelled at. a girl that can stand up for herself and refuse to be treated that way. major kudos to belle for standing up to a fucking ginormous raging beast that was all up on it, yelling and screaming at her, chucking her dad out of the castle, trying to tell her what to do. that took major moxy! belle has some major balls! respect is everything, if he doesn't give it to you gals get the fuck out! it may be scary as hell out in the wild woods, but it will end up well!
JUNGLE BOOK: goes back to one of those old cheesy quotes that we've all heard: dance like no one is watching. baloo gets his groove on no matter what's going on. and he's the happiest one in the whole story! just goes to show that it doesn't matter what size you are, put on that grass skirt and coconuts and shake it if ya got it! if you're comfortable with yourself, and the music is rockin, get off your ass and shake it!! never take life too seriously, let the music completely take you over once in a while. you do still have to remember that serious side that's out there and pay attention to it. we all need a bagheera to balance out our baloo, but we NEED BOTH. life is about balance. find a friend, a partner, whomever it is that completes you and help each other out!
one final one: PETER PAN: i am SO on tinkerbell's side in the whole wendy vs tink issue. that poor little pixy has put up with peter's "i'm not ready to grow up and be responsible" bullshit for how long? she sat around patiently waiting for him to finally pull his head out of his ass and realize what's waiting right in front of him, then out of no where this wendy bitch pops up and suddenly peter is all ooo...look at me, i'm a grown up and i'm in charge of all these lost boys, and just watch me protect/save everyone. WHATEVS. tink put in all that time and patience waiting just to have some bitch steal him out from right under her. we've all had that guys that keep saying he's "just not ready for a commitment". what happens? as soon as you get sick of his little boy act he runs out and marries the next bitch that comes along. i think tink was too fucking easy on wendy. i'm waiting for the celebrity death match showdown between those two...
**okay. that's all of them. aren't you glad you stuck around to the end? yeah...sorry about that. you can hate me now.**
1st up was DUMBO: bought this movie for my kids but then while watching it with them wondering if that was such a smart move. dumbo really IS NOT a kids movie! lesson #1 for parents: never EVER defend your kids: you'll be thrown in jail forever. that poor mother! everyone was hashing on her brand new baby and she tried to stick up for him and BAM. jail. locked up. poked with sticks. made fun of by obnoxious children. just let your kids get trashed on instead. teaches them character anyway, right? lesson #2 for everyone: don't drink with clowns. i knew they were freaky bastards to start out with, but really...what they hell were they drinking? and have you ever noticed how much they were drinking? i mean, really...whatever it was they were drinking was enough to get a fucking elephant toasted! enough for said elephant to end up in a tree! and an elephant weighs, what, close to three times most humans? and those clowns couldn't get enough! those are some sick freaks with some seriously damaged livers! i knew i hated clowns for a reason! lesson #3 for parents: exploit your children. when they hit it big because of some freak talent they discover during a drunken binge you can laugh at all the other people and get the best car on the train. become instantly famous off your kids and milk it for all it's worth!
next up: PINOCCHIO: what's wrong with pinocchio? cute little wooden boy just wants to be a real boy, fucks up a few times along the way, happy ending with the little family all back together...awwww...warm and fuzzy...then you look back at the beginning: creepy old toy maker wants a little boy of his own. i mean REALLY creepy old guy. little tiny dark shop on a back street that you never seen anyone in but him. he creates a little boy, and the first thing he does? tucks the kid in bed with himself. does that freak anyone else out? did they have sex offender lists back then? i would have run away the first day too if i was that little puppet. who knows what happened that first night! keep runnin kid...the whale may have been the best option! finally: don't trust anyone with "honest" in their name...chances are they aren't what they say they are. uh huh, that's right, captian obvious reminded me of that one. i mean really- if some talking animal tells you his name is honest john, don't waste time talking back to him, just pack his ass up and sell him to the zoo...talking animals go for quite a bit i hear...
next on the hit list: ROBIN HOOD. could be one of my favorite kids movies. great lessons: lesson number one: it's okay to steal whatever you want as long as it's from an asshole that sucks his thumb: cold hard cash, jewelry, solid gold hubcaps...take it all as long as the guy is a jerk and whines like a little baby. lesson number two: you can get away with any crime as long as you marry into the right family. all the theft mentioned above plus breaking and entering, impersonating an officer, assault on an officer, prison break...yeah, got away with it all by marrying the kings sister. GOOD MOVE. which makes me wonder...why aren't there ever any first sons? there are tons of presidential daughters that make the news, where's all the boys at? until they legalize gay marriage, i'm screwed on the pardon issue. damn. anywho, on to lesson number three: you can pull off lesson number one and two only if you're HOT. i will totally confess right here: i have a lil crush on ol' rob. great shirt tucked in just right, always well groomed even though he lives in the woods, in great physical shape (let's see you climb a castle wall with no hand grips!), always helping someone, and knows how to treat a lady right- flowers, kissing the hand, he's a regular charmer! smooth talker, fast thinker, can get out of any scrape...you notice little john never got the chick...just sayin is all...
moving on...after a moment...mmmmm...robin hood....HOT.
ok. moving on: POCAHONTAS: there's some great history lessons in this one...namely: history lesson number one: you can do whatever you want, and no one will know the truth once it's out on disney. seriously. disney will cut out the gruesome parts, throw in a few cute and cuddly woodland creatures, have a few celebrities record a sound track, and you. are. golden! disney did such a wonderful mop up job on this one. one of the worst tragedy's in american history came out sparkling cute and clean. forget the rape and mass murder and stealing of land. we'll just edit that part out, change it to a love story...throw in a cheeky raccoon and BAM. whole new american history. bright and shiny. imagine what they could do with a few others: the holocaust...throw in a couple singing german shepards, maybe a singing nun with a few unruly children here and there, cut out all the starvation, oppression, entire generation being descimated, death camps (maybe make them a "summer camp" and presto...disney quality movie. why not redo vietnam? add a few cute monkeys swinging from tropical trees in a lush green jungle, replace all the soldiers with the plastic soldiers from toy story, and don't forget how "in" camo is right now, costumes will be a smashing success, record a song or two with a good "jungle beat", , and there you go, kid friendly disney movie with outfits everyone will just have to have. marketing success and spit shined history all in one. SHA BAM.
**this was a break in the original blog. next was titled: what i learned from disney women**
first up: SLEEPING BEAUTY: where do you start with this one? i think that bitch got what she deserved...okay, maybe not what she deserved, but her parents were elitist assholes and got what they deserved! that poor "witch"! how would you feel if you were the ONLY person not invited to the baby shower? just because she's a middle aged single woman with no children of her own is no reason to call her a witch! i think she was the smartest one there! plus, she was probably just pissed off...changes are she was dating the king before his wife swooped in and stole him or something like that. they never show the back story. maybe she was just different than the rest of them...didn't want to be a soccer mom with a crappy sweater-set. i mean she was HOT!! why give that up just to fit in with all the other royalty? whatever the case, she should NOT have been neglected from the invite list. i would have been mad too. maybe arurora's parent should have paid a little more attention to miss manners. would it have really killed them just send an invite? for all they knew she could have had a previous engagement and not been able to make it...but no, they had to piss her off and then look what happened! you know the saying about a woman scorned, right? as to aruora herself...that bitch had it fucking easy. not one day of manual labor in her entire life. the one time she even gets close to doing something domestic she has to sleep it off for a hundred years...and you KNOW she played on that for the rest of her marriage to that poor sap: "honey, can you do the dishes tonight? remember what happened last time i tried to work..." and i'm sure she wasn't a beauty for very long...once the fairy magic wore off i bet it was a completely different story. i mean really, it took three fairies with magic wands to get her ready for the party. i'm SO not going to stress about taking five minutes in the morning by myself anymore. i mean three fairies...that's just two short of queer eye, and those boys don't even have magic wands! also important to remember, if he's really a prince, a little morning breath every now and again won't really matter. can you imagine one hundred years of morning breath? and he had to kiss her good enough to wake her lazy ass up!
CINDERELLA: blondes really do have more fun, don't they? the prince didn't even look at any of the other girls at the ball. the minute that fake bottle blonde walked in to the party he was in it head over heels (maybe just one glass heel...). what i want to know is what really happened that night? why was he so intent on finding her after just one dance and a little patio time? did she jack his wallet while they were dancing? was there a little more to that patio time than they showed? did he get a bad blood screen back after that night? i have a REALLY hard time believing a guy would go through all that trouble, out searching all night just to return a shoe. and lets not forget that she's another one of those girls that it took a fairy godmother with some heavy magic to get her ready for the party...and even with all that heavy magic it lasted what, four, five hours?? if that? lets see...i'm guessing the dance started around 8, add an hour for her to make her "fashionably late" entrance...puts her there at 9...DAMN...three hours for that magic to wear off. ha ha bitch...my fucking maybelline lasts all day! suck that! and just i have to say i'm on the side of the stepsisters when it comes to the whole dress thing. now i've never had sisters myself, but from what i hear swiping things from each others closet without asking is a serious offense...you just don't go there. and then to wear it right in front of them with the intent of stealing the guy they're crushing on...that's fucked up!! i say they let her off easy! a broken leg or two would have kept her home for the night!
SNOW WHITE: now, i will give this girl props: it didn't take a team of magic wands to get her all prettied up. she was the fairest one of all just by nature (although someone really should have warned her about using red of a lipstick with pale skin. i'm just sayin is all...). so her step-mom gets jealous and tries to kill her. i feel for ya sister...been there, done that (well, not the try and kill part, but my step mom was horrible too). chick runs away from home- good thinking, get out of the situation. but then what does she do? moves in with seven strange men (strange in the fact that she didnt know them). not only that, the FIRST seven men she runs across. doesn't even attempt to go it on her own. one of those chicks that always has to be with someone. lame. at least she worked for her keep...she wasn't a freeloading guest. not so great, but better than the others so far. but then the truth comes out: she's freaking anorexic. no wonder she's all willowy and slender with such pale skin. she was starving herself the whole time. when she did eat, she only ate one tiny bite of an apple. she didn't choke. she fucking passed out from lack of food. you know if she'd a bite of a big ol greasy burger once in a while none of the whole "oh...i'm dead" drama would have happened. and really, who takes fruit from some creepy old lady wandering around in the woods? shouldn't there have been a little warning bell going off? hmm...creepy old lady, wandering around the woods with obvious dementia, offering fruit that heaven only knows how old it is or where it's been...plus, it's fruit (don't even get me started on how evil fruit is). that's what you get for being all ohhh...i can only take a small bite of fruit. like those fucking bitches that go out to dinner to only order a leaf of lettuce and a glass of ice water. fuck you. eat some real food. if she'd been eating properly you know she would have just finished eating breakfast and not been starving- craving some form of food enough to make her take the apple. just like i say about all the models out there...if they'd just eat a cheeseburger we'd all be happier!! and how "heroic" was that prince anyway? just the first guy that happened along and had a glucose pack on him or whatever. can you imagine the brain damage after not being passed out that long? and i'm sure she wasn't smelling all that great after being stuffed in a glass box out in the woods for however long it took for that guy to show up.
movin' on: LADY AND THE TRAMP: just goes to show you that we all need our bad-boy fix or have to go see what's on the "other side of the tracks" at some point in our lives. and yes, some of us are unlucky enough to get "caught" when we cross paths with the scoundrel. it can even happen to the prissiest, most cultured, park avenue chicks too. at least lady was lucky enough though to rope (guilt) her tramp into sticking around and taking responsibility for his actions. this movie was great for the premarital sex debate. and in a disney movie to boot. hell yes you should test drive that tramp before you lock him up forever! at least they did attempt to scare young girls with the threat of getting knocked up and having to bear the shame and whispers of the other people know what's going on. tried to make it seem like a bad thing for a moment. it was funny how they threw in the sacrificial marriage proposal to make it better (even though he was really old and creepy and we knew she wouldn't go for it). also as a lesson: lady's people didn't kick her out of the house when they found out she was all knocked up. they were really cool about it...doesn't always end badly. finally, just a tip to prego people (or people with new babies): don't ignore your old friends...otherwise they'll get jealous and have to run out and get knocked up with the first tramp they can find just to get a little sympathy and attention. this whole thing could have been avoided if jim and darling had just paid a little more attention when the brat came on scene.
**almost done, hang in there. part three was shorter. here it is. oh...and also...prepare for a shift...part three was GOOD things about disney...seriously...GOOD things. i know. i still can't believe i did a post like that**
first happy movie: FOX AND THE HOUND: besides being absolutely in love with the two main characters (how can you not smile when you hear: "my name's copper, i'm a houng dog awoo woo woo") this is one of my favorite movies because of the simple lesson that it teaches: two completely opposite characters that are supposed to hate each other just because "that's how it is" turn out to be best friends. copper is not only supposed to HATE todd, he's supposed to hunt him down and kill him. happily, friendship prevails and these two stick it out even though everything is against them. guess it just makes me think about me and my small little circle of friends: some of us couldn't be more different when it comes to politics, religion, "look", upbringing- you name it we're different. but we still found enough common thread to be friends. i was raised to be an uuber religious, completely conservative republican (have fortunately overcome most of that). i have had to learn that there's a whole world of amazing people out there and if you hate them all just because "that's the way it is" then you're missing out on SO much. hopefully my kids will learn acceptance and tolerance from me and have a whole array of friends and people to enrich their time here, not just a small elite circle.
LION KING: real simple: listen to the crazy one. sometimes the craziest one is the one who has the best grip on things and really knows what's up.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST: a couple from this one: number 1: SMART GIRLS ARE HOT!! you can read books can still be damn sexy and fall in love and end up with a prince! number 2: it's never okay to be bullied or yelled at. a girl that can stand up for herself and refuse to be treated that way. major kudos to belle for standing up to a fucking ginormous raging beast that was all up on it, yelling and screaming at her, chucking her dad out of the castle, trying to tell her what to do. that took major moxy! belle has some major balls! respect is everything, if he doesn't give it to you gals get the fuck out! it may be scary as hell out in the wild woods, but it will end up well!
JUNGLE BOOK: goes back to one of those old cheesy quotes that we've all heard: dance like no one is watching. baloo gets his groove on no matter what's going on. and he's the happiest one in the whole story! just goes to show that it doesn't matter what size you are, put on that grass skirt and coconuts and shake it if ya got it! if you're comfortable with yourself, and the music is rockin, get off your ass and shake it!! never take life too seriously, let the music completely take you over once in a while. you do still have to remember that serious side that's out there and pay attention to it. we all need a bagheera to balance out our baloo, but we NEED BOTH. life is about balance. find a friend, a partner, whomever it is that completes you and help each other out!
one final one: PETER PAN: i am SO on tinkerbell's side in the whole wendy vs tink issue. that poor little pixy has put up with peter's "i'm not ready to grow up and be responsible" bullshit for how long? she sat around patiently waiting for him to finally pull his head out of his ass and realize what's waiting right in front of him, then out of no where this wendy bitch pops up and suddenly peter is all ooo...look at me, i'm a grown up and i'm in charge of all these lost boys, and just watch me protect/save everyone. WHATEVS. tink put in all that time and patience waiting just to have some bitch steal him out from right under her. we've all had that guys that keep saying he's "just not ready for a commitment". what happens? as soon as you get sick of his little boy act he runs out and marries the next bitch that comes along. i think tink was too fucking easy on wendy. i'm waiting for the celebrity death match showdown between those two...
**okay. that's all of them. aren't you glad you stuck around to the end? yeah...sorry about that. you can hate me now.**
Friday, January 29, 2010
light bulbs
well. once again i’ve run out of time to do much more than brain vomit and hope it makes some kind of sense. tax return should be deposited soon…then maybe i can actually buy a computer for my house…then i’ll have all sorts of time!
ANYWAY. not enough time for babble. i wanted to vomit out a few big break thrus i’ve had the last few days…pretty big ones really…here we go:
my brother called on wednesday to see about stopping by this weekend on their way through town. he asked if he could take my boys to lunch with my mum and stepdad who will be in town later in the day to see them. my answer, of course, was not only no, but HELL NO. my thought was: when hell freezes over AND the devil is crowned prom queen of a south texas high school AND the jersey shore show on mtv is shown to increase the intelligence of viewers THEN they can go. but since my brother is easily offended, i kept it at NO. and he, of course, questioned me several times which not only frustrated me beyond all reason, but also made me question myself and the decision, AND made me feel the family rift once again. it hurt. so much. i made my decision when it all first came to light. i will not waiver. it is for the protection of my children. i will never compromise their protection. and he questioned: well, i’ll be there…can’t they go if i’m supervising? NO. which part of NO is so fucking hard to understand? and it didn’t occur to me later, but i should have asked him: what if i went to airway heights and had a sex offender paroled for the day…just for lunch? would you let me take YOUR kids to lunch with him? i’d be there supervising…of course. i’m guessing his answer would be no also. doesn’t he get that it’s the same situation? it IS the exact same situation minus the jail time. I WILL NOT LET MY CHILDREN BE AROUND AN ABUSER. period. done. quit asking me to.
also in the past he’s mentioned: “but the kids seem fine around him…they don’t act scared at all.” this question really bothered me. i wondered at times if i was wrong, if i was going over kill…until last night when it clicked: I’M GLAD THEY’RE NOT SCARED. that mean i caught the problems while it was still in the grooming stage before any actual scarring abuse happened. I’M GLAD THERE’S NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF (for them). i would rather know they’re protected and safe and it was caught early before any permanent damage was done than to look back later and wonder why i didn’t hold my ground. my little spawn was young. he didn’t know what he was saying or why it was bad. BUT I DID. i knew what it meant and where it was headed. i have no questions to this day that all the signs were there and he would have been hurt. i have no question he was being groomed for abuse. i was able to pull him away from the flame before he got burned. AND I’M GLAD. no i won’t risk letting them near enough for it to happen again. are you fucking crazy?
but at the same time, it hurts because it’s driving a wedge in my family. and it kills me. i just lost my brother. i’ve lost my mom in a different way. my older brother and my dad are all i have left. and i’m losing that brother too. i’m losing what little family i have. and i’m just getting to know my dad. so it feels like i have no family at all. and it’s killing me. it hurts so much. and i don’t have an answer for this one yet, but at least i understand why i dread my brother’s calls. i know there will be a problem. i know the wedge is getting bigger and bigger. i know there’s nothing i can do, besides compromising my kids, to make it go away. and it’s seriously killing me. this week went to shit wednesday after his call, and i’m still trying to pull it back together. i HATE this feeling. i hate being alone. and now i’m beyond alone. no partner OR family. there’s this HUGE GAPING HOLE in me and i can’t fix it.
and people wonder why i’m depressed.
ANYWAY. not enough time for babble. i wanted to vomit out a few big break thrus i’ve had the last few days…pretty big ones really…here we go:
my brother called on wednesday to see about stopping by this weekend on their way through town. he asked if he could take my boys to lunch with my mum and stepdad who will be in town later in the day to see them. my answer, of course, was not only no, but HELL NO. my thought was: when hell freezes over AND the devil is crowned prom queen of a south texas high school AND the jersey shore show on mtv is shown to increase the intelligence of viewers THEN they can go. but since my brother is easily offended, i kept it at NO. and he, of course, questioned me several times which not only frustrated me beyond all reason, but also made me question myself and the decision, AND made me feel the family rift once again. it hurt. so much. i made my decision when it all first came to light. i will not waiver. it is for the protection of my children. i will never compromise their protection. and he questioned: well, i’ll be there…can’t they go if i’m supervising? NO. which part of NO is so fucking hard to understand? and it didn’t occur to me later, but i should have asked him: what if i went to airway heights and had a sex offender paroled for the day…just for lunch? would you let me take YOUR kids to lunch with him? i’d be there supervising…of course. i’m guessing his answer would be no also. doesn’t he get that it’s the same situation? it IS the exact same situation minus the jail time. I WILL NOT LET MY CHILDREN BE AROUND AN ABUSER. period. done. quit asking me to.
also in the past he’s mentioned: “but the kids seem fine around him…they don’t act scared at all.” this question really bothered me. i wondered at times if i was wrong, if i was going over kill…until last night when it clicked: I’M GLAD THEY’RE NOT SCARED. that mean i caught the problems while it was still in the grooming stage before any actual scarring abuse happened. I’M GLAD THERE’S NOTHING TO BE AFRAID OF (for them). i would rather know they’re protected and safe and it was caught early before any permanent damage was done than to look back later and wonder why i didn’t hold my ground. my little spawn was young. he didn’t know what he was saying or why it was bad. BUT I DID. i knew what it meant and where it was headed. i have no questions to this day that all the signs were there and he would have been hurt. i have no question he was being groomed for abuse. i was able to pull him away from the flame before he got burned. AND I’M GLAD. no i won’t risk letting them near enough for it to happen again. are you fucking crazy?
but at the same time, it hurts because it’s driving a wedge in my family. and it kills me. i just lost my brother. i’ve lost my mom in a different way. my older brother and my dad are all i have left. and i’m losing that brother too. i’m losing what little family i have. and i’m just getting to know my dad. so it feels like i have no family at all. and it’s killing me. it hurts so much. and i don’t have an answer for this one yet, but at least i understand why i dread my brother’s calls. i know there will be a problem. i know the wedge is getting bigger and bigger. i know there’s nothing i can do, besides compromising my kids, to make it go away. and it’s seriously killing me. this week went to shit wednesday after his call, and i’m still trying to pull it back together. i HATE this feeling. i hate being alone. and now i’m beyond alone. no partner OR family. there’s this HUGE GAPING HOLE in me and i can’t fix it.
and people wonder why i’m depressed.
Monday, January 25, 2010
the good, the bad, the ugly truth
the good: i am capable of feeling romantical type of emotions. it’s a shock to me too. didn’t think i could after all these years. thought that part has been properly cordoned off and sealed up. guess there was a breach in security. catherine zeda jones made it past the laser maze and stole the damn mask.
the bad: i found this out by becoming all schmoopy and attached to someone who not only didn’t return said feelings at the same level, he didn’t return ANY feeling. suck.
the ugly truth: several of my own worst self perceptions were confirmed during this learning experience. i was too chubby, not pretty enough, embarrassing to be seen out with, in general just all around not good enough. it was, very much, like re-enacting pretty woman including the no kissing clause, minus the bank and the happy ending. well, and minus the killer shopping spree. and minus the being beat by the lawyer friend. okay. fuck. it wasn’t like pretty woman at all except the fact that i was a last resort and he wouldn’t kiss me. there you go.
so. the result of this is more thinking that i am, in fact, very much right on one thing: some people aren’t made to be part of a couple. some people really are meant to be a party of one for whatever reason. i’m the party of one. i’ve tried to be a party of two, never really works out so well. ever. only twice was i really a part of something that could be called anything…once was 6 years ago when i was married (gag) and once was 5 years before that when i was “dating” my oldest sons dad (for a whole 4 months (three of which i was knocked up)). i’ve gone out on dates…even as recent as 3/2007 (not even kidding). i’ve had people i hang out with. but i’m just not meant to be a part of something. this last excursion around the bay was the first and ONLY time besides my marriage that someone stayed overnight two nights in a row. it’s the ONLY time that a boy has had his own toothbrush at my house. it’s the ONLY time EVER that i’ve woken up next to someone and been comfortable. but it didn’t work. there wasn’t anything to work really. i wasn’t wanted, just handy. whatever. i should know better by now. i suppose it’s like a rat in a cage: you have to keep checking the edges even though you never get out and the electrical shock never goes away. it is always a shock when i rediscover what i already knew. actually, i think the rats have a faster learning curve…
the bad: i found this out by becoming all schmoopy and attached to someone who not only didn’t return said feelings at the same level, he didn’t return ANY feeling. suck.
the ugly truth: several of my own worst self perceptions were confirmed during this learning experience. i was too chubby, not pretty enough, embarrassing to be seen out with, in general just all around not good enough. it was, very much, like re-enacting pretty woman including the no kissing clause, minus the bank and the happy ending. well, and minus the killer shopping spree. and minus the being beat by the lawyer friend. okay. fuck. it wasn’t like pretty woman at all except the fact that i was a last resort and he wouldn’t kiss me. there you go.
so. the result of this is more thinking that i am, in fact, very much right on one thing: some people aren’t made to be part of a couple. some people really are meant to be a party of one for whatever reason. i’m the party of one. i’ve tried to be a party of two, never really works out so well. ever. only twice was i really a part of something that could be called anything…once was 6 years ago when i was married (gag) and once was 5 years before that when i was “dating” my oldest sons dad (for a whole 4 months (three of which i was knocked up)). i’ve gone out on dates…even as recent as 3/2007 (not even kidding). i’ve had people i hang out with. but i’m just not meant to be a part of something. this last excursion around the bay was the first and ONLY time besides my marriage that someone stayed overnight two nights in a row. it’s the ONLY time that a boy has had his own toothbrush at my house. it’s the ONLY time EVER that i’ve woken up next to someone and been comfortable. but it didn’t work. there wasn’t anything to work really. i wasn’t wanted, just handy. whatever. i should know better by now. i suppose it’s like a rat in a cage: you have to keep checking the edges even though you never get out and the electrical shock never goes away. it is always a shock when i rediscover what i already knew. actually, i think the rats have a faster learning curve…
it has been decided (for me)
so. i’m not weak. i think that’s the last word that 98% of people who have ever met me would use to describe me. i have this funny growth in the lump that’s three feet above my ass…it’s called a brain. and believe it or not, i have actually learned how to use it over the years, and i am surprisingly capable of making decisions on my own…at least enough to get me through the last 29 years or so. now admittedly, they haven’t always been the best decisions, but they’re ones that i made. ME. I MADE THEM. ON MY VERY OWN.
so it astounds me when people decide to think for me. to make decisions for me. that’s a lie. it doesn’t astound me. IT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF. are you fucking kidding me with this shit? you thought you knew what was best for me and went ahead and decided? it’s happened more times than i care to count in the last few years.
when i was a kid…had to have been 10 or 11…we got a call that my dad had been in a really bad car accident. had rolled the car several times, punctured a lung, broken several ribs, BAD shape. the accident had thrown the glove compartment 100 yards from his car, and completely totaled the car (a cop car…reinforced and all). we were told about it a week later and not allowed to go down to see him. “…it would be best if you didn’t see him like that...” FUCK YOU. my dad is in the hospital WRECKED UP and you think it would be best if i didn’t see him? are you fucking kidding me? he’s my dad. i should ESPECIALLY be able to see him then.
then when my little brother was in an accident this last august i was called FOUR DAYS LATER when he woke up from the coma. “…well, we didn’t want you to worry and rush over here, so we decided to wait and call you till we knew it was a little better…” WHAT THE FUCK? my brother is in a coma and you didn’t want to worry me? if i shouldn’t be worried then, when SHOULD i be worried? what if he hadn’t made it then? turns out he didn’t really make it then and i never did get to see him through all of that or through the end.
it same thing with his death. i was called THE NEXT DAY. “…well, we didn’t want you to stress out and drive down here so we waited to call you…” EXCUSE ME? stress me out? he’s fucking dead. why shouldn’t i be stressed? why shouldn’t i drive down as soon as i hear? shouldn’t that be my call? NOT YOURS? so i get there a day late and a dollar short. i swear to all that’s holy, if they don’t call me to spread his ashes, a few of them are going to join him in the great beyond.
and it’s still happening. people making decisions for me: “…well, i didn’t think you’d be comfortable so i didn’t think you should go…” WHAT? well fuck…i’m so glad someone knows what i’m comfortable with more than i do. i’m glad someone can make decisions for me of where i would feel okay going or which social situations i would feel comfortable putting myself in. nothing like a fucked up excuse twisted for exclusion. if you didn’t want me there, just fucking ball up and say it. don’t hide it behind some fucked reason that you are trying to force on me.
i’m a fucking big girl. believe it or not i can say yes please or no thank you to situations. i can handle being stressed out about things. i can handle being upset. i can handle making my own fucking decisions. i don’t need people to fucking think for me. trust me, if nothing else, thinking is one thing i’m more than capable of doing. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. i don’t make a decision without thinking it through roughly 100 times. i know what i’m comfortable with, i know what and where i want to be. i know what i can handle and what’s too much for me. it’s honestly a fucking slap in the face when a decision is made for me. it’s saying i’m not good enough. i’m not smart enough. i’m not grown up enough to be in control of my own life. yes, i might ask for help or input once in a while on a decision…but in the end, i am capable of making the final decision without having it made for me.
so it astounds me when people decide to think for me. to make decisions for me. that’s a lie. it doesn’t astound me. IT FUCKING PISSES ME OFF. are you fucking kidding me with this shit? you thought you knew what was best for me and went ahead and decided? it’s happened more times than i care to count in the last few years.
when i was a kid…had to have been 10 or 11…we got a call that my dad had been in a really bad car accident. had rolled the car several times, punctured a lung, broken several ribs, BAD shape. the accident had thrown the glove compartment 100 yards from his car, and completely totaled the car (a cop car…reinforced and all). we were told about it a week later and not allowed to go down to see him. “…it would be best if you didn’t see him like that...” FUCK YOU. my dad is in the hospital WRECKED UP and you think it would be best if i didn’t see him? are you fucking kidding me? he’s my dad. i should ESPECIALLY be able to see him then.
then when my little brother was in an accident this last august i was called FOUR DAYS LATER when he woke up from the coma. “…well, we didn’t want you to worry and rush over here, so we decided to wait and call you till we knew it was a little better…” WHAT THE FUCK? my brother is in a coma and you didn’t want to worry me? if i shouldn’t be worried then, when SHOULD i be worried? what if he hadn’t made it then? turns out he didn’t really make it then and i never did get to see him through all of that or through the end.
it same thing with his death. i was called THE NEXT DAY. “…well, we didn’t want you to stress out and drive down here so we waited to call you…” EXCUSE ME? stress me out? he’s fucking dead. why shouldn’t i be stressed? why shouldn’t i drive down as soon as i hear? shouldn’t that be my call? NOT YOURS? so i get there a day late and a dollar short. i swear to all that’s holy, if they don’t call me to spread his ashes, a few of them are going to join him in the great beyond.
and it’s still happening. people making decisions for me: “…well, i didn’t think you’d be comfortable so i didn’t think you should go…” WHAT? well fuck…i’m so glad someone knows what i’m comfortable with more than i do. i’m glad someone can make decisions for me of where i would feel okay going or which social situations i would feel comfortable putting myself in. nothing like a fucked up excuse twisted for exclusion. if you didn’t want me there, just fucking ball up and say it. don’t hide it behind some fucked reason that you are trying to force on me.
i’m a fucking big girl. believe it or not i can say yes please or no thank you to situations. i can handle being stressed out about things. i can handle being upset. i can handle making my own fucking decisions. i don’t need people to fucking think for me. trust me, if nothing else, thinking is one thing i’m more than capable of doing. ALL THE FUCKING TIME. i don’t make a decision without thinking it through roughly 100 times. i know what i’m comfortable with, i know what and where i want to be. i know what i can handle and what’s too much for me. it’s honestly a fucking slap in the face when a decision is made for me. it’s saying i’m not good enough. i’m not smart enough. i’m not grown up enough to be in control of my own life. yes, i might ask for help or input once in a while on a decision…but in the end, i am capable of making the final decision without having it made for me.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
LOVE HARDER
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
From Laurie:
From Laurie:
Our Plea
Our friend Brandy is a brilliant writer, a wonderful teacher, and a generous friend. And she is in love with a man who has just been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
We are raising money for the Multiple Myeloma Research Fund in his name. For the price of a cinnamon dolce latte, half-caf, hold the whip, you can be part of an effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide.
http://www.loveharder.org
Every dollar brings us a dollar closer to a cure. And every donation brings a sliver of hope to a girl who needs all the hope she can get.
Love Harder,
[Your Name]
What You Can Do
Where Your Money Goes
Brandy's Story (if you already posted this, you can just link to your original post)
My name is Brandy. And I have a blog.
And a plea.
I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach, and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds.
Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog-- as personal as the dude that I adore. But I need your help. And it involves my dude.
He's a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He's the guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job.
He's the guy who sent flowers to me at school-- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He's a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred.
He's made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He's listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.
I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making-- but this is life. Right now. And I'm throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you.
This isn't a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It's just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next.
Thank you for reading this, and if you haven't already? Please tell someone you love them today.
I did.
DONATE: http://www.loveharder.org
CONTACT: theloveharderfund@gmail.com
FACEBOOK: http://facebook.loveharder.org
MORE INFO: http://www.themmrf.org
Our friend Brandy is a brilliant writer, a wonderful teacher, and a generous friend. And she is in love with a man who has just been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.
We are raising money for the Multiple Myeloma Research Fund in his name. For the price of a cinnamon dolce latte, half-caf, hold the whip, you can be part of an effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide.
http://www.loveharder.org
Every dollar brings us a dollar closer to a cure. And every donation brings a sliver of hope to a girl who needs all the hope she can get.
Love Harder,
[Your Name]
What You Can Do
- Give. Be part of a worldwide effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide. Every dollar helps.
- Pass it on. Forward this story to five people. Share this blog post. Become our fan on Facebook.
- Love harder. Life is short, love is unbending, and no one knows what could happen next. Tell someone you love them today.
Where Your Money Goes
- The American Institute of Philanthropy recently named The Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation one of the best organizations to give to in terms of their accountability and use of resources.
- By working closely with researchers, clinicians and partners in the biotech and pharmaceutical industry, the MMRF has helped bring multiple myeloma patients four new treatments that are extending lives around the globe.
- The MMRF has advanced twenty Phase I and Phase II clinical trials. They need your support to advance these clinical research programs and accelerate the development of better, more effective treatments.
- The MMRF's Multiple Myeloma Genomics Initiative recently became the first to sequence the multiple myeloma whole genome in its entirety.
- A whopping 98% of your donation to the MMRF will be used immediately to support high-priority multiple myeloma research.
- With diminishing funding for early stage drug development and the next myeloma treatments not expected to be approved until 2011, the MMRF desperately needs your help.
Brandy's Story (if you already posted this, you can just link to your original post)
My name is Brandy. And I have a blog.
And a plea.
I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach, and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds.
Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog-- as personal as the dude that I adore. But I need your help. And it involves my dude.
He's a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He's the guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job.
He's the guy who sent flowers to me at school-- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He's a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred.
He's made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He's listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.
I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making-- but this is life. Right now. And I'm throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you.
This isn't a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It's just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next.
Thank you for reading this, and if you haven't already? Please tell someone you love them today.
I did.
DONATE: http://www.loveharder.org
CONTACT: theloveharderfund@gmail.com
FACEBOOK: http://facebook.loveharder.org
MORE INFO: http://www.themmrf.org
option b usually wins
ok kids. a little house cleaning first. it’s been a while since i made an attempt at a funny blog so it may take a while to get the wheels good and greased up (think dirty thoughts if you so choose, i was). i have been saving notes of odd things to throw in here, so i’ll get those out of the way and then move on to a magical fairy tale of mythical creatures, air guitar, and fat bottom girls. you’re welcome in advance.
odd thought #1: when it’s just you at home (or if you live alone) do you close the bathroom door? ran home yesterday on my lunch break, had to pee (yes, it was important to the story) and was closing the bathroom door when i suddenly had a moment of freedom: IT’S JUST ME HERE. I CAN PEE WITH THE DOOR OPEN. not quite sure why this was such a happy thought, but it was, and my day was better for it.
odd thought #2: if you don’t stop for a pedestrian at a crosswalk (not that any of us would ever NOT stop…but hypothetically you understand) does it make you feel less guilty when the car behind you doesn’t stop either? i always feel bad if i don’t stop for whatever reason and most times apologize (which they never hear cause i’m in my car…but whatever) but it always makes me feel LESS bad if the car behind me doesn’t stop either. if they DO stop i usually have a few choice words for them.* never with my kids in the car you understand…i mean, what kind of parent would not stop for pedestrians AND use 4 letter words? what kind of an example would that be? yeah….
*see choices listed below
odd thought #3: JUST REALIZED: santa really has the child labor thing figured out. i bet if kathy lee gifford had put little hats and pointy shoes on the kids in her factory she could have totally gotten away with it. GEN.IOUS. a few pointy hats, some slippers with bells on them, my kids could totally be helping pay the rent.
odd thought #4: was listening to a video blog this morning that contained the following phrase: “biblical happy meal” to described the fish/loaves experience. HAPPY IN THE PANTS. after wiping up the coffee that shot out my nose (not even kidding…you think white chocolate tastes good? it smells even better). do you have any idea the thought process that followed? biblical happy meals…what was the toy? moses parting the red sea? a rod that turned into a snake and back (the original transformer)? chariots of fire (the original hot wheels)? baby moses in the basket (obviously a bath toy)? fuck moses, i would have wanted rahab in a basket personally (she’s the hooker in the bible if you haven’t read it recently…escaped out a window in a basket. would have made a kick ass bond girl if you ask me). and then there’s the whole passing out of the happy meals…was it in the little box with the golden arch handles? did it come with a drink? were there huge containers of mystery orange drink? did they all get their own sprite? was there an option of chocolate milk? a biblical happy meal. video blog magic.
ok. house: cleaned. onto the real magic. can i even say it? do i need a warning label? “THIS BLOG CONTAINS MULLET”. yes. that’s right. mullet. seriously…giggling and clapping my hands like…hell, i can’t even think of anything…I’M THAT EXCITED.
so. friday night a few gals from work and i headed out for drinks and music. it was a pretty quiet evening for the most part with the exception that we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a few birthday parties with some “dresses” that looked more like a legging pulled up too high but whatever. (ladies: if you sit down on the chair and your BARE ASS is on the chair because there’s not enough dress to cover it, you may not call that a dress. yes, i’m jealous. shut up.) so there we are, enjoying food, drinks, listening to the REALLY OLD BAND (i think they were the house band at the opening of the garden of eden…sorry for all the biblical references today...you may consider it your church for the week) and i spot it. down below us on the main floor (bless balconies for their great vantage point). i blink. this CAN’T BE REAL. but it is. or i think it is. i swear on the soul of my father the devil: a mullet. a real, live, permtastic mullet. and this isn’t just some half ass mullet…all high and tight in the front, long in back…this is a FULL mullet. a full head of golden, curly, shagtastic mystical mullet goodness. what do you do in a moment like this? (besides the obvious asking for a towel for your chair)? i quickly pointed him out to the two gals i was with which drew the attention of one of the birthday group guys so he was included in rare spotting. we couldn’t believe it. a mullet. in our midst. STUPID CAMERA PHONE…couldn’t take a picture that far away in that low light. depressing. but we all saw it. four of us. we couldn’t all be having the same blessed dream, could we? and then…old as dirt (may have been the official band name…may be wrong) started up fat bottom girls. to understand the full additional magic that’s going on, you have to understand the full set of music that was going on. they had already played: little sister, my big green tractor, and the joker (among others that i can’t remember). it was an anything and everything in between type band. rounding it out with fat bottom girls. AND THE MULLET ON AIR GUITAR. oh yes. air guitar. in the middle of the bar. without spilling a drop of his beer. at this point, the 4 of us are IN AWE. full on awe. this can’t be real. a mullet. and air guitar. all in one night. so. the night continues, we go back to chatting, and suddenly i am smacked on the arm. THE MULLET IS ON THE BALCONY. less than 3 feet away from us. standing there. in all his golden mullet glory. complete with head toss. yes, a head toss to shake the golden locks. i think i heard angels at this point. or it could have been the ringing in my ears from the noise. either way. so birthday party boy is quickly informed and he comes up with a plan: this CAN’T be real…we need proof. he’s going to touch the mullet. i suggested actual petting of said mullet, but he decided to be a little less obvious and go with the casual bump against the shoulder as he walked by. whatevs. BUT HE COULDN’T DO IT. every time he got close, the mullet would move away. and there’s only a certain number of times you can try that move before people start getting worried and checking for their wallets. HE NEVER TOUCHED THE MULLET. he couldn’t do it. which proves the fact that we were in the presence of a mystical magical creature. like a unicorn. with a mullet. charlie…let’s go to candy mountain charlie…it’ll be an adventure charlie! (go youtube charlie the unicorn if you’re lost at this point. i’ll wait).
so. thinking back on it now, it may have ruined the night if actual touching of the mullet had been achieved. it may have ruined the mystique of it all. as it stands: the world may never know…
*choices: a) asshat b) fuckwit c) bastard d) god damn good samaritan e) fucking asshole that made me look like a bitch f) jim
odd thought #1: when it’s just you at home (or if you live alone) do you close the bathroom door? ran home yesterday on my lunch break, had to pee (yes, it was important to the story) and was closing the bathroom door when i suddenly had a moment of freedom: IT’S JUST ME HERE. I CAN PEE WITH THE DOOR OPEN. not quite sure why this was such a happy thought, but it was, and my day was better for it.
odd thought #2: if you don’t stop for a pedestrian at a crosswalk (not that any of us would ever NOT stop…but hypothetically you understand) does it make you feel less guilty when the car behind you doesn’t stop either? i always feel bad if i don’t stop for whatever reason and most times apologize (which they never hear cause i’m in my car…but whatever) but it always makes me feel LESS bad if the car behind me doesn’t stop either. if they DO stop i usually have a few choice words for them.* never with my kids in the car you understand…i mean, what kind of parent would not stop for pedestrians AND use 4 letter words? what kind of an example would that be? yeah….
*see choices listed below
odd thought #3: JUST REALIZED: santa really has the child labor thing figured out. i bet if kathy lee gifford had put little hats and pointy shoes on the kids in her factory she could have totally gotten away with it. GEN.IOUS. a few pointy hats, some slippers with bells on them, my kids could totally be helping pay the rent.
odd thought #4: was listening to a video blog this morning that contained the following phrase: “biblical happy meal” to described the fish/loaves experience. HAPPY IN THE PANTS. after wiping up the coffee that shot out my nose (not even kidding…you think white chocolate tastes good? it smells even better). do you have any idea the thought process that followed? biblical happy meals…what was the toy? moses parting the red sea? a rod that turned into a snake and back (the original transformer)? chariots of fire (the original hot wheels)? baby moses in the basket (obviously a bath toy)? fuck moses, i would have wanted rahab in a basket personally (she’s the hooker in the bible if you haven’t read it recently…escaped out a window in a basket. would have made a kick ass bond girl if you ask me). and then there’s the whole passing out of the happy meals…was it in the little box with the golden arch handles? did it come with a drink? were there huge containers of mystery orange drink? did they all get their own sprite? was there an option of chocolate milk? a biblical happy meal. video blog magic.
ok. house: cleaned. onto the real magic. can i even say it? do i need a warning label? “THIS BLOG CONTAINS MULLET”. yes. that’s right. mullet. seriously…giggling and clapping my hands like…hell, i can’t even think of anything…I’M THAT EXCITED.
so. friday night a few gals from work and i headed out for drinks and music. it was a pretty quiet evening for the most part with the exception that we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a few birthday parties with some “dresses” that looked more like a legging pulled up too high but whatever. (ladies: if you sit down on the chair and your BARE ASS is on the chair because there’s not enough dress to cover it, you may not call that a dress. yes, i’m jealous. shut up.) so there we are, enjoying food, drinks, listening to the REALLY OLD BAND (i think they were the house band at the opening of the garden of eden…sorry for all the biblical references today...you may consider it your church for the week) and i spot it. down below us on the main floor (bless balconies for their great vantage point). i blink. this CAN’T BE REAL. but it is. or i think it is. i swear on the soul of my father the devil: a mullet. a real, live, permtastic mullet. and this isn’t just some half ass mullet…all high and tight in the front, long in back…this is a FULL mullet. a full head of golden, curly, shagtastic mystical mullet goodness. what do you do in a moment like this? (besides the obvious asking for a towel for your chair)? i quickly pointed him out to the two gals i was with which drew the attention of one of the birthday group guys so he was included in rare spotting. we couldn’t believe it. a mullet. in our midst. STUPID CAMERA PHONE…couldn’t take a picture that far away in that low light. depressing. but we all saw it. four of us. we couldn’t all be having the same blessed dream, could we? and then…old as dirt (may have been the official band name…may be wrong) started up fat bottom girls. to understand the full additional magic that’s going on, you have to understand the full set of music that was going on. they had already played: little sister, my big green tractor, and the joker (among others that i can’t remember). it was an anything and everything in between type band. rounding it out with fat bottom girls. AND THE MULLET ON AIR GUITAR. oh yes. air guitar. in the middle of the bar. without spilling a drop of his beer. at this point, the 4 of us are IN AWE. full on awe. this can’t be real. a mullet. and air guitar. all in one night. so. the night continues, we go back to chatting, and suddenly i am smacked on the arm. THE MULLET IS ON THE BALCONY. less than 3 feet away from us. standing there. in all his golden mullet glory. complete with head toss. yes, a head toss to shake the golden locks. i think i heard angels at this point. or it could have been the ringing in my ears from the noise. either way. so birthday party boy is quickly informed and he comes up with a plan: this CAN’T be real…we need proof. he’s going to touch the mullet. i suggested actual petting of said mullet, but he decided to be a little less obvious and go with the casual bump against the shoulder as he walked by. whatevs. BUT HE COULDN’T DO IT. every time he got close, the mullet would move away. and there’s only a certain number of times you can try that move before people start getting worried and checking for their wallets. HE NEVER TOUCHED THE MULLET. he couldn’t do it. which proves the fact that we were in the presence of a mystical magical creature. like a unicorn. with a mullet. charlie…let’s go to candy mountain charlie…it’ll be an adventure charlie! (go youtube charlie the unicorn if you’re lost at this point. i’ll wait).
so. thinking back on it now, it may have ruined the night if actual touching of the mullet had been achieved. it may have ruined the mystique of it all. as it stands: the world may never know…
*choices: a) asshat b) fuckwit c) bastard d) god damn good samaritan e) fucking asshole that made me look like a bitch f) jim
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