Screaming into my pillow

This is the blog equivelant....

BEGIN RANT:

Hubs is home for a few days because of back spasms. I feel for the guy. I'm sorry he is in pain. I'm sorry he is bored and feeling unproductive.

But....

He is driving me absolutely fucking nuts!!! He acts as though he is the only person on the planet who has ever felt discomfort. He is in my way, wants to go everywhere I go, he's whiny, and complains that there is nothing "good to eat" in the house...

I feel like I'm babysitting a bratty toddler.

END RANT:

Oh, and if you won't take a pill that will ease your pain....SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

You'd think that a pharmacist would actually look into how medications work....wouldn't you?

This guy hasn't done his homework.

So. Wrong. -- P.S.S.

posting on a comment

Its probably cheating, but I really don't care.

This is a comment I left over at Feministe, about the sexualization of girls.

We are in the process of trying to find clothes for school right now. We are having a tough time of it…everything seems to show something. Tshirts are too short and show the belly, and pants hang too low on the hips to reveal would be back tattoos and require children to where thongs. Its enough to drive a parent insane!! If the fashion industry isn’t trying to sexualize my 12 yr old, they are trying to pimp her out by making her wear clothes with their logos and brands plastered all over them….

I don’t know what is worse…having my daughter dressed sexy, or having her be comfortable and relentlessly teased for dressing “like a dyke”….just what the hell is that supposed to mean, anyway?

And school uniforms are not the answer, either….remember Brittney?

I’m eagerly awaiting the potato sack to come into fashion.

I am fortunate that Blaine has her own individual style. She likes to shop at thrift stores. But finding clothes that fit her can be a challenge, no matter if its new clothes from Old Navy or used at SVDP. She is short, with short legs. She is curvier than most her age(baby got back, just like her mom). Blaine is pretty modest and doesn't care for a most clothing offered to girls right now. Girls' sizes are too tight in the butt, and juniors' woefully too long, that hemming would ruin the flared effect she likes. This awkward, "in between" stage is trying, to say the least.

Lately, shopping has turned into an emotional roller coaster, wrought with tears and angry outbursts. It has all been capped off with pubescent bemoanings of "I hate my body", "Nothing will fit me, ever" and "This friggin' sucks"

It pains me to hear these words coming from her lips. I have tried so hard to teach her to accept herself, but somehow, those seeds of self doubt, planted by every magazine at the checkout, seem to have taken root.

Last summer, this wasn't even an issue. She still had a boyish figure and was wearing a size 12. Suddenly, she has erupted into a womanly shape, and she hates it. I find myself hating it too. Or, at least, hating what it has done to her self esteem.

Telling girls they are not defined by their bodies is easy when they are wearing clothes that fit easily and comfortably. But now, its a whole other thing. Forever gone are the days of merely checking the tag for a 12, or holding up a shirt to see if it fits.

I miss those days.
I miss them terribly.

May I have the envelope please.....

The Most Despicable Person in Washington State Award goes to....
Victor David.

Over the counter

But still BEHIND the counter....at least we're moving in the right direction. Now we just need to make it available to ALL who might need it...and make sure that the pharmacists DO THEIR JOB!!

Screw camping, I'm going to a rock show!!

Guess who just won tickets to Bumbershoot AND to see Matisyahu?
Thats right...
ME!!

WooHoo!

I listen to You don't know Dick on The Endeveryday. I always know the answer, be it a question or audio clue...I always scoff the losers that call in with the wrong answers. Hubs always says I should call, but I tell him theres no way I'd ever get through, so I never even try.

That is, I never did, until today.

The audio clue was the first two seconds of this song...would you have known it?



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P.S.S.

What a wingnut sees

when they read the New York Times





ht- zuzu @ Feministe

Covert Ops

Its that time of year again. The time of year in a small town where it is no longer safe to leave your car unlocked.....unless you want to find THIS inside. And that was just from this morning!

You have been warned, people!

It is 11:49 AM and Blaine is STILL SLEEPING.
That is all.

This week's Post Secret Secret (sorry its late)

I have one too.

The Bunny House

This post is for tj. She liked the bunnies in my parent's yard in this picture. Their house is known, on the island, as The Bunny House.
My sister and her husband are a metal sculptors. Those bunnies and this mailbox are some of their earliest works.

Click here for another view.

The mailbox is warped and the bunny's ears are curled on top because he was beaten a few years ago by a very angry man with a baseball bat. He had illegally parked his car in my parent's yard, blocking the garage, so they had his car towed. They live very close to the ferry dock and rude tourists and baseball fans abound every summer. My mother actually wept. My dad is quite handy and was able to fix it, for the most part. The bend in the ears is now like a freckle on a kid's face...we can't imagine him without it. He is now anchored deeply in concrete. If anyone were to assault him again, they would be the one in need of fixing.

I slack, therefore I am.

I have 4 or 5 posts sitting, waiting to be finished. I am behind on email correspondence. I haven't yet stepped a foot into The Pit Of Hell that is called the mall to shop for school clothes. And we have ordered pizza delivery or had sandwiches for dinner every night the last week.

Some may think I've fallen into another one of my depressed moods, the usual Yin to my summer Yang. But I don't think thats the case. I'm quite content right now. Not depressed at all. Merely unfocused.

I've taken to long phone calls with friends and my Mom...to watching movies in their entirety...to tending my garden...to listening to music. I would say at this moment I am downright serene.

Is this what it means to relax?

Because if it is, I've been misled in the worst way.

Vacations are for relaxation, right? I've always thought vacations to be a harried experience. To plan, to run, to schedule, to go go go, to do do do. I don't ever remember feeling this way during a so-called "vacation". I wouldn't dread them so, if it were the case.

So, I apologize for the lack of regular posting. I'll get around to it, eventually. But for now, I've got a half a bottle of Bad Girl Blanc and a movie waiting.

The Showcase Post

More than a week late. I know, I'm a slacker. I've been busy. Doin' stuff.

Anyhoo....

We drove down to Portland Saturday(the 29th) morning. My parents, knowing money is tight for us, booked and paid for our room at a hotel. I refused to let them pay more than $80, since thats usually what it costs us when we stay there. I did not know, however, that the quaint and affordable place we usually stay was undergoing renovations and was closed...

In an effort to get us closer to the showcase venue, my Dad booked a Motel 6 in what he thought was SE Portland, but was ACTUALLY...an industrial/white trash/ ghetto area of Gresham. We took it in stride, were good sports and made lots of jokes about $5 blowjobs...and I'm pretty sure we saw Tonya Harding walking down the street. I know, I know...gift horses and all. Beggars can't be choosers, but I can certainly make sure my Dad never hears the end of it.

We called Blaine's host to let them know we were in town and she suggested(Thank you, Jeebus!!) that Blaine stay the night there, as the night would be long and it would be easier to pick her (and all her stuff) up in the morning. We readily agreed. Blaine's week need not be tainted by a night in that dump, after all.

We went to the host house and picked up the girls. They looked so cute. They had rocked about 20 yards of satin ribbon and Mia looked like Rainbow Brite. Blaine kept it pretty subdued with red ribbon tied at the neck and on her shoes.
We dropped them early at the Bagdad Theater, so that they could check in and host mom, Terry, could get ready in peace. When we arrived there was already a long line of people waiting, so Hubs and I dropped the girls at the door and took our place at the end. We chatted with other parents about the Camp experience. Most of them were newbies and had no idea what to expect. Being a veteran, I clued them in.

At 5PM, the line started moving, and we were inside in no time. The Bagdad is a cool old theater with wide aisles of comfy, wide-ass chairs that are separated by long narrow shelf-like tables in front of each row. The place serves the usual movie fair, but also has pizza and a BAR, hence the tables. Now, thats my kinda theater!

The showcase started off with a few technical difficulties and sound issues, but those were quickly fixed and the show continued. Those difficulties worked in our favor because Terry was late to arrive because parking was horrendous. Thank goodness she didn't miss it!

The show, as always, was wonderful!! As usual, I cried when I saw Blaine onstage with a band. They totally rocked the house! Mia jammed on bass like a pro and the overall vibe was very cool. Hubs pointed out that Blaine stands like Bill Wyman when she plays...just like in the song by The Smithereens. Wow. MY KID, THE ROCK STAR!!

Shame on me.

I did something today that I'm not particularly proud of. I lambasted another blogger for a comment(since deleted) that he left on my blog. Then I posted something I am embarrassed to admit(since deleted)...a call to my readers to go "get him". Here I am calling myself FreedomGirl, the 1st Amendment draped over my shoulders as a cape, telling someone else what they can or cannot say. Oh the power of a mother's instinct to protect her child. It will make even the most staunch advocate for free speech a censor.

The commenter has since apologized and I have accepted his apology. I wish I held the hacking skills to retrieve that which I have deleted, so that it would stand as a testemant for free speech. As one other commenter said (I'm paraphrasing because it got deleted)...

Don't you think you're overreacting? This is the internet.

Yes, I do. And, yes, it is.