Monday, June 25, 2012


Reliving a learned lesson in Life
Can be as painful as a first regret.

A sunset on one side of the world
Can lead to a sunrise as bloody back home.

For once I have been bloodied by this heart-felt sting
I stand again in anguish, just as pure, under opposing supervention.

As before I stand up, bloodied, broken, yet strong and defiant
Resolute in the knowledge that I will win, will overcome.

The efficacy of virtue
The aptitude of skill
And the determination of the nature of regret
Will deliver me from this wretched torture.

Until Life leads me back to this place of regret
And I am again confronted with sorrow beyond subjection.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Darwin died?!

It is official. Homo sapiens have halted the process of natural selection in everything except viruses and germs. Where could we possibly go wrong with that?

A prime example of the death of Darwinism; The Panda. A highly specialized being with completely inadequate physiology to survive, and yet, here we are trying to save them instead of trying to stop the slaughter of perfectly evolved beings like sharks. One thing history has repeatedly taught us is that specialist perish while generalists flourish. A Giant Panda lives off of one type of plant, in a single region. It has teeth and a digestive system suitable for a carnivore and so cannot physically digest its sole source of nutrients.

But, let's save the Panda! They are cute. And cuddly! And a complete waste of biomass.

Meanwhile, an animal that has an enormous, detrimental impact on worldwide ecosystems is being hunted, trapped, killed, and exploited to extinction with nothing being done about it.

I'm taking my son in for his immunizations. Never mind that my mother lies to try to get me to vaccinate my son against anything and everything (I apparently got the chicken pox vaccine 3 years before it was available), but the doctor takes her time to lie too. "Future generations are living longer. Now that we are living longer, we want them to have the best life possible. That means immunizing them so they don't get shingles, or paralyzed." What?

First - you can still get shingles from the pox vaccine, so fuck off twat.

Second - You ass clowns didn't start vaccinating for every day colds until the 80's. You complain about the weakened immune systems of the elderly in one breath, then plan to squash my child's immune system by not letting it work with the next. You see the old people now 'suffering'. What do you think is going to happen when I'm old? Is the world going to be magical? Filled with rainbows and butterflies? With unicorns frolicking on grassy knolls because you injected me with dead cells, viruses, and heavy metals? Why am I guessing, "Not."?

Third - Scare tactics, nice. Try that one on the sheeple. Cunt. My son will apparently be paralyzed because of chicken pox. It's written in her calendar.

My prediction: In 30 years, there are going to be mass breakouts of extant viruses because the immune systems that we have effectively killed with kindness will be without the long term benefits of natural immunity. Face it; long term efficacy is not a strong point of vaccines. You say there is no data to support that? Bull shit. Look at whopping cough. How many people has it killed in the last few years? Why? Because people who thought they were immune - whoops - turns out you need a booster for that. Haha, sorry, you actually weren't immune. And even if you were, it wouldn't matter. Turns out the whopping cough virus is a lot like the flu. It can live on your skin, on wet surfaces, on dry surfaces, etc. for days! You don't have to have it, to give it! Isn't that nice!

What do you know? Houston, we have kryptonite! It's our own fucking stupidity.

Keep you fucking needles away from my kid. One size does not fit all in medicine. I will chose what works for us, for now.


Motivation can do great things. Luck can do great things. Skill can do great things.

Nothing is guaranteed.

You may have noticed. I lack follow through (last blog? A year ago.) Great intentions and all that jazz. Shit storms are hitting now, though, so a release is indicated.

I'm dyslexic. I hold an accounting position at work. Tell me how this works, please? Tell me who thought it was a good idea to move somebody who sees no physical difference between 69 and 96 into an authority position in regards to numbers, and more importantly, money? Needless to say, I fucking hate this fucking job. I've been at this fucking desk for over two years. Every glorious morning I wake up more sullen than the one previous. Every day I get home more, and more pissed off at the world. Every day my heart breaks just a little bit more as I send out more applications and resumes. To what point and purpose? Fuck it all. Five years out, and nothing to show for it. Fuck it all.

I started running as a release, and as an excuse to get my fat ass a bit more in shape. I joined this great group of ladies who, with much less experience, and much more going against them than I have, started the Couch To 5K program. Today is my last run (WOOHOO!). I was supposed to be done two weeks ago. I've tried everything to avoid the excuses, the pathetic, 'Woe is me' bullshit that plagues this society... Can't do it. My knee went out twice in one day after my first 'virtual 5K race'. It's just now resuming some form of what a knee should look like. Never mind the bruises though. What the fuck was I thinking? I fucking hate running! With the passion of a thousand burning suns. Fuck it all. I'm done, and I feel guilty. I was the fucking genius who said, "Hey friends! Let's RUN! Physical fitness isss guud, right?!" and now I'm letting everybody down. It's how I roll. Fuck it all.

Yesterday was a bit more than I could bear. Life has officially gotten in the way of... Life. I never wanted to live like this. Work to pay bills, pay bills to get to work, rotting away at a desk, making excuses for myself, constantly hating who I am and taking it out on my husband and son. They deserve better than that, better than a self loathing, psuedo-emo, brat.

What the flying fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I just be 'happy'?

"Hurt" as performed by Johnny Cash:

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel.
I focus on the pain;
The only thing that's real.

The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting.
Try to kill it all away
But I remember every thing

What have I become
My sweetest friend?
Every one I know
Goes away in the end

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make hurt.

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liars chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair

Beneath the stains of time
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become
My sweetest friend?
Every one I know
Goes away in the end

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

I will keep myself
I will find a way

"Invictus" by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pole from pit to pit
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance,
My head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds me and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

Words I've tried to live by; words centering in my future tattoo. Words that have saved my life. Words that have MADE my life.

So, why are they failing me now? No. Why am I failing me now?

Monday, July 11, 2011

The Truth about pregnancy: 102

Back by popular demand, pregnancy hormones;

Vulcan like rational thinking has never been, nor will it ever be a strong point of mine. I have a tendency to say what I really mean. Sometimes it gets me into trouble, sometimes it makes my friends a bit edgy about our friendship, but most of the time, it works out well. People know that I will never say anything behind your back that I won't say to your face. And if you can live with that, you know you can accept me for what I am. And then, there were two... When one body contains two beating hearts, something is bound to go awry.

A very unfortunate side effect of pregnancy hormones, are the hormones. Said hormones have the ability to make that 'brain-to-mouth' filter even less functional.

And I didn't mind one bit!

But God help whomever decided to blame my 'atitude' on 'the hormones'. Rest assured, there is no better way to piss a pregnant lady off than to blame it on her hormones. "Right. I'm completely out of line, and out of control! Simply because my world has suddenly been turned upside-down and inside-out does not mean I have any reason to be slightly on edge. I have NOTHING to worry about. I'm not solely responsible for growing another entire human being. I haven't overnight gone from being able to live in my own skin and doing what I want to having to share my own body with some unannounced little parasite that everybody says I should love and feel from the second of conception. I shouldn't at all be edgy because suddenly everybody expects me to allow them to rub my belly and ask about what I intend to do with my tits. Not to mention having to go to the doctor every month, every two weeks, and every week (assuming you don't have complications) only to be asked the same questions every time; 'When was your last period?', 'Are you allergic to anything', 'Your entire family history dating back to pre-colonial America?', 'Alright then, let's have a look!'." And having somebody look at your vagina is unnerving enough. To make matters worse, those 'look' happy doctors are more like toddlers - in order to 'look' they have to stare, poke, prod, invade, and point and giggle (or so it seems).

Yeah, expecting women have NOTHING to have an attitude about... Especially considering every Tom, Dick, and Harry has opinions, excuses, and advice about your body. Please excuse me if I don't listen to you about your pregnancy experiences, but seeing as I assume you have a penis, I don't think your anecdotes are first hand knowledge.

Two months in, these 'hormones' will start to hit home as everybody and their second cousin thrice removed on your great aunt Joanie's side will start to badger you about finding out vs. not finding out, colors of the baby room, 'Was this baby planned?', 'How did this happen?', 'When I had mine (32 years ago)...', ... What the fuck? I JUST had sex last week and people are already badgering me about my 'birth choices', parenting styles, and tit usage? Just because a child was conceived in the privacy of your own bedroom, or living room, or kitchen, or car (say, does anybody want to come over for a party? Don't mind the stain on the couch...) does not mean anything, and I mean ANYTHING about your child will be a private matter. And since said child is in your body, it is by default eligible for equal scuitinization.

But, as much as we hate to admit it, the 'hormones' can make us even less stable than we were before. What people who a)have never been pregnant before, or b) forget if they were pregnant more than 13 months ago don't realize is that "WE KNOW". Yes, it is highly irrational to know you are being irrational, and yet continue to be irrational... But it happens! Excuse preggos for not wanting to explain why we don't want to talk about how we plan to ripen our cervices for impending birth... If you do manage to pry our birth plans out of us through incessant questioning please, leave your opinion where it belongs, in your ass. Just because I want drugs doesn't make me a pansy. And just because I want an all natural water-home birth doesn't make me a tree hugger. And yes, we all know that nothing is certain in childbirth. Thus why it used to be such a risky business.

Wait, why am I talking about birthing during the second month of pregnancy? Because in the three minutes it took for you to realize that there were indeed two lines on that stick every bit of this crossed your mind. Your life flashed before your eyes. Not the life you've had. But the life you expect to have. The perfect little family, cuddling on the couch, staring lovingly into your husbands eyes as he rests his head on your growing belly waiting for a movement from that perfect little bean, listening to a crackling fire with soft music playing in the background. Months later you expect a perfectly complication free delivery and see yourself crying with happiness as this perfectly formed baby stares up at you with nothing but love in its eyes with your husband standing guard at your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear and a silent tear running down his cheek. The next day you come home to a perfectly clean house with a content baby...

Reality will be different, you know that. I know that. But we can dream, right? Reality will probably be more along the lines of; You and your husband will be cuddling on the couch, and just as you let one rip the Satan spawn kicks him so hard in the ear that both your belly and the side of his face are now bruised. The TV is blaring, dinner isn't made, dishes aren't done, the nursery is no where near even close to getting started and you fight constantly about "How can you tell me I can't paint when God KNOWS you'll never get it done in time?!".

In those short minutes that it took to register that you are pregnant you have probably prepared yourself for 'every' eventuality concerning yourself. What you can't prepare for is how everybody else will suddenly treat you like either a leper, or a delicate piece of crystal stemware expected to sit atop a palm tree during a category five hurricane. Everybody, even at two months, looks at you like you're going to fall apart.

As far as being physically two months pregnant while mentally 9 months pregnant. Yup, 'it's normal'. Yup, 'it' sucks. And yup, more than likely 'it' has an odor. Get used to it. You are going to be tired (But for God's sake don't say anything because you'll hear the "Oh, you just wait!". Trust me, you're not allowed to be miserable in everybody else's eyes yet.). You are going to be sick. You are going to swear up and down that you smell something, but you're not quite sure what. And you are going to go nuts trying to explain to your husband that for once in your relationship he needs to just let you rape him in his sleep, he needs to understand everything you say, and he needs to hold your hair back while you puke.

Friday, July 8, 2011

The Ebonic Plague

I'm sure many of you will have heard of the Bubonic Plague, or the Black Death that tore through Europe in the 14th century. The Bubonic Plague killed roughly 75 million people, an estimated 30-60% of the worlds population at the time.

The disease was ravaging, killing two-thirds of the infected people within four meager days.

No disease known to man has ever taken out so much of a single population before.

Until now.

This new plague, The Ebonic Plague, has claimed a seemingly endless number of souls with more being infected every day. This new plague, only recently described by scientists and sociologists as the downfall of society, has by far surpassed epidemic proportions. Yet, you've probably never heard of it.

The prognosis of those infected with The Ebonic Plague is not good. Although not commonly fatal, The Ebonic Plague seems to infect the nervous system, which in turn debilitates speech, the ability to socialize, and somehow the infection causes the host to attempt to rationalize their actions while under the curse of The Ebonic Plague as "Cultural difference." which is clearly a misguided attempt by the virus to disguise its malice effects on society.

You may not have heard about it, but believe me, it's out there! Chances are you know several people infected by it. Please, take a minute to study the symptoms so you can protect yourself from this horrific pestilence:

  • Early symptoms include an unwillingness by those infected to use vowels whilst writing. This 'short hand' is the beginning of the end.
  • Soon, some words will be shortened into single letters, or completely misguided combinations of letters that somehow seem easier to write than a word only one, or two letters longer.
  • Next, words will be confused with numbers, punctuation will go wayside, words that sound similar, but are completely different will be forgotten and misused, and spelling may, or may not be reverted back to a five year old level.
  • Once this happens, speech laziness and inaccuracies are imminent. Certain sounds will be apparently impossible to say. Words will be combined where conventionally they were not, such as 'going to' evolves into 'gonna'.
  • Those severely infected may be commonly misunderstood, and may have a difficult time enunciating their preferences.
  • The most severe cases can result in physical laziness, and a sense of entitlement. Somehow the virus twists the infected persons brain to rationalize any well intentioned, or misguided attempt to intervene with the downward spiral of the infecteds intelligence.

The Ebonic Plague is not a specialist disease. It can infect anybody, and seems to have the potential to infect everybody. Please, be on guard for this pestilence. It is everywhere from small farming communities to booming metropolises. You can protect yourself from this virus by simply educating yourself as to the ways of the English Language. Take pride in your appearance and show people that you are educated.

Besides, is it really that difficult, or time consuming to type a 'y-o' in front of a 'u', or a 'u-r' after a 'yo'?

As stated from

Ebonics: A poor excuse for a failure to grasp the basics of english. When in doubt, throw an "izzle" sound in the middle of any word of just string random thoughts together and insinuate that they actually mean something.

Ebonics: "Yo G, you frontin me?"
English: "Excuse me, my peer, are you attempting to influence me to engage in a violent action with you?"

Ebonics: "You gots to git those Benjamins so you cin git dat bling-bling fo yo ride"
English: "You need to get money so that you can get expensive accessories for your car."

Jive/Ebonics: "Sheeeeiit, foo, I'z be doin' dat shit an' shorty be axin me fo' sum' scrilla."
English: Shit, friend, I am doing that stuff, and my girlfriend is asking me for some money.

Ebonics "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, they're like, it's better than yours, damn right its better than your, i could teach you, but I'd have to charge.

English "My frozen dairy treat brings all the male gender to the grassy area in the front of my residence. They say it is superior to yours. Yes, they are correct, it is far superior than yours. I could pass along this knowledge, but there would be a fee.

Standard English Example:
Question: What do you need to do?
Answer: I need to take the time, to gather the information, and then double check it, to see if I am correct in my facts; Then I have to package it and take it to the Post Office, so that I can get it insured, to make sure I don't lose my valuable work.

Ebonics Example:
Question: What cha' gawn do?
Answer: Lawd ha' murcy! I nee' ta git dis stuff togetha
and take it ta da Post office, and git me some insurance!

i) In any English word with a contraction, eliminate the apostrophe and any letters after it.
1) Is it alright if I rollerskate through the campus ?
English) Yes, it's alright
Ebonics) It OK
ii) In a word ending in "d," substitute "dt" or "oodt."
English) That's all very fine...
Ebonics) That all reeeal gooudt....
iii) In a word ending in "ore," eliminate everything after the first "o" and add an apostrophe.
English) I won't tell you again, please shut the door.
Ebonics) I ain tellin you no mo', shet de do' !!
iv) For suffixes with 2 identical consonants followed by "er," eliminate the "er."
English) That Negro was larger and was holding a pistol.
Ebonics) Mah nigga was bigga had his fingah on yo' trigga.
v) In general, most "er"s are dropped and replaced by "ah."
English) Tower of Power
Ebonics) Towah of Powah
vi) However, in the case of a plural, "ers" is replaced by "az."
English) Negroes
Ebonics) niggaz


Saturday, July 2, 2011

Oh Captain, My Captain

Me: You should have taken advantage of me last night.

Mike: Why?

Me: My uterus is eating my ovaries, I think.

Mike: Sometimes when the main road floods you just have to take the back road.

Me: Sometimes when it floods you have to find a new captain with a bigger boat. One who isn't afraid to go with the tides.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

The truth about pregnancy:

Trust me. I'm an expert...

There are some things about being pregnant that you can't possibly fathom until you are pregnant. Considering, statistically speaking, there are slightly more men than women (WOOHOO!) and as of yet it is impossible for a true male to get knocked up I would like to reminisce for a moment or two. I would like to explain pregnancy to the 51% of the population that will never be expected to push a bowling ball from between your legs, and warn the 49% that is dumb enough to try it; I would like to explain Pregnancy: 101.

First, if you are pregnant, it's normal. Doesn't matter what 'it' is. More than likely, 'it' sucks, and more than likely 'it' has an odor. If 'it' isn't 'normal', then don't worry about it, that won't do you any good. That is easier said than done when suddenly your world has turned into research and development of Kevlar stomach armor and trying to think of a way to cause your placenta to take EVERYTHING that could possibly be questionable away from your parasite...

Which ever genius decided you can't eat lunch meat will burn in hell for inciting paranoia among the expecting. It's bull shit. It's lunch meat. Imagine for a moment that you are an expecting penguin. Sardines, your major food source, have of course been exiled from your diet due to heavy metals. After visiting your penguin gyno with an extra creepy latex flipper glove you come to the realization that there is nothing else you want to eat! A completely helpful, wise penguin offers his advice (because we all know that men are experts when it comes to pregnancy cravings, and no-no's) "Try tofu!". Right, I would rather milk a plant, let said milk ferment into a gelatinous blob, and pretend it tastes anything like meat than eat a damn fish. There is nothing wrong with lunch meat, you really don't have to microwave it before you eat it. As far as cheese? "You can't eat soft cheeses like Mexican, or Blue cheese". I believe that one. I mean, Mexicans are clearly becoming extinct because of the great cheese die-off...

Second. If you've ever thought you could be pregnant, but not sure what to do... Is it really difficult? You piss on a stick. How hard is that? You can count to two, right? Two lines means you're knocked up, I don't think it's hard to read those test results... And no, just because the new fangled tests sometimes comes with a smiley face instead of a second line doesn't mean the stick is a mind reader, it's saying "Yay! you're pregnant!" not "Yay! I knew you would be terrified if I showed up as a positive, so I'm smiling to make you think you aren't pregnant!". If you're really confused, try a digital pee-stick. Even a complete illiterate can read those results...

When I got knocked up, the first thing we did was tell our folks. Biggest. Mistake. Ever. Let them squirm. Let them guess if you've really got food poisoning. Let them wonder if you just spent an extra few minutes in the sun. Because if you don't (and your family is as fucked up as my mother) they will not only have longer to torment you, but they will start guessing conception dates, times, and places. My mother swears her grandson was conceived in her basement on Christmas Day. Little does she know it was Christmas Eve, at our house, on the couch that my mother in law gave us, doggy style (go ahead and try to sleep tonight). What can I say, Celebrating a dead guys fake birthday turns me on...

The first thing my folks did when we told them was celebrate and congratulate us on a job well done. Weirdest moment ever. "Did my dad just congratulate me for having sex?!" My mother came at me, reaching out to touch my parasite housing stomach as if instantly I went from perfectly normal old Sophie, to a Buddah belly luck charm that couldn't be passed by a single person without a good rub. Hell. No. Just cause I'm about to start packing on the pounds like a bear preparing for the apocalypse, does NOT mean you have the right to touch my stomach!

I wasn't so prepared for my mother in law's reaction though. I've never been the touchy-feely-crying type (you may have guessed). So when my mother in law broke in to tears, sobbing hysterically on her knees before Mike could finish saying 'baby' I thought she was dying, not trying to congratulate us on 'a job well done'. Before I knew it this sobbing woman was on her knees, at my feet, arms wrapping creepily around my stomach, and head pressed firmly where the little parasite should have been (conveniently uncomfortably close to my crotch.) I wanted SO badly to let one rip, and blame it on the kid. But I was far too stunned. Who does that?! Would you bury your face in your newly expecting daughter in law's lower abdomen??

I felt so violated. I would have taken a hot shower to sanitize myself, but the guy who said lunch meat is a no-no conspired with another idiot who said 'no hot water'. Turns out that was a good thing. Cold showers are indicated when you're jacked up on hormones. Teenage boys have nothing on pregnant women. I'm normally horny, but poor Mike couldn't catch a break for nine months! "What's it gonna hurt? You can't knock me up again!". And being that horny, with your mother in law's face pressed to your stomach... Nothing can induce morning sickness as readily as that!

That covers the first month out of nine. Kind of. See, by the time you know you're about to kiss your freedom and sleep goodbye you are already four weeks pregnant. But then, how long is a pregnancy? Nine months? Technically speaking, it is 40 weeks. FORTY Fucking WEEKS! A quick double-take tells you that is ten months, four weeks to a month... But in reality, it is about 9 months, and a little over a week. None of this matters as it will feel more like 9 years. And by the end of it you will be screaming, "I just want to SLEEP COMFORTABLY!" to which the invariable retort is, "Oh, just you wait. When that baby is here you won't sleep at all"... Well, no shit, Sherlock. The key words there were 'want' and 'COMFORTABLY'. My kid is the epitome of 'bad sleeper'. And I had a rough time post partum, BUT I was comfortable! And when allowed, I could actually close my eyes and sleep instead of writhing in agony as everything ached and my legs felt like they were crawling away without my body. I could breathe, and I could turn over in bed with out the help of ten world class body builders...

In any event, because only the first month (kind of) took so long, 'Pregnancy: 101' will have to come in installments.

Oh, and you're not a penguin any more.