Memorieeeeeeees

I distinctly recall a point in the not-so-distant past when I wasn't anywhere nearly so whiny on this blog. I'm aware that I am the one responsible for setting the tone here (unless one chooses to believe that The Almighty/the universe has taken a particular interest in my life and how I perceive the events therein), and I'm really working to get back to a place where I have more fun here, and don't just vent the pain and frustration.

In the grand scheme of things, I'm happy to admit that I have a pretty awesome life. My husband is my best friend and fantastic in ways I will leave to the imagination. I live with a crew of loving (for the most part), amusing, and interesting critters. I am lucky enough - knock on wood - to have the care and feeding of the aforementioned spouse and pets as my "paying gig", and therefore am able to sleep on the inconstant schedule my body sets for me, with few repercussions.

I think a big part of me rebels against talking about the good stuff. Like doing so will resemble bragging, or jinx things. I have enough Russian and Irish in me that I tend to be fastalistic and almost pathologically avoidant of situations and statements that might attract universal irony. I'm seriously itching to delete the above paragraph for exactly this reason. But the alternative - only airing the painful and depressing shit that's already out there - is no option for me. I don't want to be a pessimist. Or a downer. There is a lot to enjoy during our time on this planet, and I want to write about that as much as (hell, more than) the painful-but-important things.

First item of fun: a drink! My mom invented a sinfully delicious new drink recipe recently, which I shall share forthwith.

Apparently there's a new trend of honey-flavored whiskey. The one she likes (which I tried) is Seagram's 7 Dark Honey. A quick internet search led to the discovery (for me) that there is some controversy surrounding this particular booze, because they are apparently attempting to circumvent the FTC blogging regs (which I, for the record, feel are a fucking joke considering that they hold bloggers to a ridiculously higher standard than people in print media. But I digress...) by having people (PR people, it looks like) comment on blogs without disclosing that they're basically spamming anyone who mentions the product.

My points in mentioning all this are that 1) I refuse to link to the aforementioned product, since they seem to be doing just fine coopting the internets via blog posts, and while I enjoyed said product, I am not their whore; and 2) because apparently I have to disclose the source for products I discuss in a remotely review-ish capacity, here it is:

MY MOM BOUGHT SEAGRAM'S 7 DARK HONEY AND MADE ME THIS DRINK, AND I LIKED IT. If they want to track her down and reimburse her for her bottle, more power to them!

And for anyone out there in copyright-land, this is her recipe that she created. It's fan-fucking-tastic, all her own, and something I know my Gramma would have given her stamp of approval. Steal it and I WILL hunt you down.

The Promised Land
1 oz. Seagram's 7 Dark Honey
2 oz. fat-free half-and-half

This is like a whiskey-based white russian, or something similar. The dairy cuts the burn of the alcohol down to almost zero, so you're left with a rich "milk and honey" drink that will give you a sneaky buzz very quickly. Perfect for a nightcap, or as a "drink" for those who don't like a boozey burn. And who doesn't like fat-free?

For anyone with raised eyebrows, I was hesitant myself. I generally am not a whiskey fan, and only drink it in the occasional sour. As for ff half-and-half, until now it was reserved for coffee. It never occurred to me that it might be a drink base, despite all the Hungry Girl drinks based on ff ice cream, ff syrups, etc. This is way more simple and delicious than most other "diet-conscious" concoctions out there. And no, I have no idea what the nutritionals are on this and no desire to find out.

In other alchohol-related news: Chris told me tonight that on his way home, he saw that our local Rita's Water Ice is open for the summer. With a warm weekend approaching, I'm declaring open season on bbq and Rita's 'Ritas! Yay, tequila!

Reconciliation

I was getting caught up on my DVR recordings tonight. Last week's episode of "Numbers" was a sort of throwaway about a group of boys who had been molested by a teacher and who all became different people as a result. At the end, one character said that he wouldn't have become the man he was if it weren't for the molestation, and that registered. As painful as periods of my life have been, and as difficult as it still is for me to work through the repercussions, I often feel the same way.

I like myself. Hell, I love the person I am.

It isn't easy living with my brain, but I make it work. But I have a VERY hard time reconciling my current state of self-acceptance with the abuse I suffered. I feel like being happy with ME means being ok with the things that made me who I am. And that it's wrong to accept my flawed state of being, because it means accepting the terrible things that led up to it.

Do I think I might be a better, more healthy, more productive human being had I not been abused? Absolutely. But a part of me wonders how compassionate I might be. How accepting I might be. How forgiving I might be. I hope that my positive traits aren't solely a result of the abuse. I hope that I would have developed into someone similar without the trauma I suffered. But there is no way to know for certain. Not that anything in this life is knowable. I just get irritated that as a natural second-guesser, I was dealt an especially tricky hand.

And then, as someone who believes in some greater Something out there, I am reminded of Neil Gaiman's statement in Good Omens (I guess it could have been Terry Pratchett's assertion; stupid collaborations): "God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players [i.e. everybody], to being involved in an obscure and complex variant of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time."

I have to believe that someone knows what the cards mean. I'm mystified.

Careless Whispers

Yes, that "Careless Whispers" (by Wham):

I feel so unsure
As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor
As the music dies
Something in your eyes
Calls to mind the silver screen
And all its sad good-byes

I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I've been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you

Time can never mend
The careless whispers of a good friend
To the heart and mind
Ignorance is kind
There's no comfort in the truth
Pain is all you'll find

I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend
And waste this chance that I've been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you

Never without your love

Tonight the music seems so loud
I wish that we could lose this crowd
Maybe it's better this way
We'd hurt each other with the things we'd want to say
We could have been so good together
We could have lived this dance forever
But now who's gonna dance with me?
Please stay

And I'm never gonna dance again
Guilty feet have got no rhythm
Though it's easy to pretend
I know you're not a fool
I should have known better than to cheat a friend
And waste the chance that I've been given
So I'm never gonna dance again
The way I danced with you

(Now that you're gone) Now that you're gone
(Now that you're gone) What I did's so wrong
That you had to leave me alone

It isn't entrely appropriate/applicable, but whenever we lose a baby this song invariably works itself into my mind at some point during the grieving process. And tonight, just a few days after we helped Harriet to the Bridge, it came into my head while I was washing the bedding she last slept in.

I know it's my personality that makes the guilt ingrained, but I have yet to have a pet death that did not evoke that response. I always feel there was some avenue I should have explored, or maybe just that I should have done something sooner. I always imagine there was something I could or should have done to stave off the inevitable.

And the fact is that our lives with our pets - and other humans - are dances. Every relationship is different and special and irreplacable. So whether or not losing Harriet was even partially my fault, I know that I will never dance with anyone the way I danced with her. And I'd have given anything for her to stay, even just a little bit longer.

Difficulty

*** Warning – potential trigger(s) for sufferers of eating disorders (bulimia, in particular) ***

This isn't a Ye Olde Common Sense post, but still it's bulimia-related and needs the above warning.

I know I haven't talked about this stuff in a while. I always feel bad doing it, because it's not a nice subject to deal with, for me or anyone. Anyone who has dealt with an eating disorder knows that it will be a daily/hourly/minute-ly (is that a word?) struggle for the rest of their lives. And lately I've been doing better. A LOT better. The majority of my eating is healthy, and when it isn't, I can tell myself that the bad things I ingest are massively outweighed by all the good foods. And I've been maintaining a healthy weight. Not my ideal weight, by any means, but one that doesn't stress my body, and one that I can live with and not freak out.

But every once in a while, the things I've done to my body catch up to me. I can have a day of completely healthy eating, and feel so good about all the choices I made. But at the end of the day, it turns out I had one or two bites too many. Psychologically, I'm fine with it. But my digestive system just can't handle it. Food backs up into my esophagus because it just doesn't move at a normal speed through my system, and the pressure starts freaking me out. And then acid starts backing up into my throat too, and I get more upset. I take pepcid, pepto, gas-x, anything to relieve all that pressure and discomfort and burning, and nothing helps. And I have to do what I fight so hard NOT to do, because I can literally feel the damage being done: I purge. And I know that the anxiety doing that causes makes things worse, but once things hit a certain point nothing else helps.

And then it really gets hard. Once the deed is done, the self-recrimination starts. I second-guess every choice that led up to that last, awful one. Didn't I know that eating a few more bites of salad would be too much? How, at this point, could I not realize that even a couple more carrots would put me over the edge? Because I do know that no matter how healthy the foods are, there is a limit to the volume my body can handle before going into overload. And every time I go over it, I blame myself and I doubt my motives and I can't help but wonder if there was some small self-sabotaging part of me that was looking to undo all my work.

Because it is work, and I have been doing it. I have days-long stretches of abstinence, which is a pretty big freaking deal in terms of bulimia. When every meal, every bite, every drink (even of things as benign as skim milk) is a battle, a day of abstinence is a beautiful thing. Two in a row feels like a miracle. So when I'm not careful enough to maintain it, when I screw up and set myself back to zero, it feels like it must have been intentional on some level. Which is horrible. Thinking - knowing, if I'm really honest - that there will always be a part of me that is looking to take me back to a place where the disorder owns my life? It can be wearying. But I've come to terms with the fact that I am a self-sabotaging person(ality). A lot of my current hermit-ness is a manifestation of the very necessary care I am taking with myself, to determine how much and how often I can "put myself out there" without doing damage or triggering my destructive tendencies.

But the idea that it might be an accident? That a couple good days might lull me into a complacency that would land me back in that place simply because I wasn't being careful enough? That terrifies me even more. I know I will always fight with food. What it means to me, what I can eat, how I eat it, all that. And I know I will have to fight myself on several levels. I have come to terms with that. But I don't know how to deal with the possibility that I might allow myself to be lulled into a false sense of security by a few good days. DAYS. Not weeks or months - that, I could almost see. But days? When there is so much at stake and every hour is such a struggle after a fall from the proverbial wagon?

And again, I know that it is literally impossible to think about every single bite of food and sip of liquid over the course of a day, especially when one feels compelled to do so every day. But not doing so, even when eating a totally healthy diet as I have been doing, puts me at risk of hitting that physical tolerance limit. And once that has been reached, no amount of telling myself to wait it out (because it's just discomfort that isn't health-related) will avert the compulsion to relieve the physical and mental pressure. So how can I accidentally let myself eat too much? And on the other hand, how can I allow food to have so much control over my life? Am I not admitting defeat by allowing food, rather than my will (whatever that means, in the end) to have the final say?

I know I'm overthinking and being too hard on myself, but that in me which is fighting to beat this thing screams that I have to be, that I can give it no quarter. And sometimes I don't know how to live in a world where I can give myself no quarter. Hence, my difficulty.

SSDD

Every time I think I've neglected this blog too long, and maybe have too little left to say, something sparks me up again. And not shockingly, the subject is civil/human rights, yet again.

That fucking asshole "pastor" Rick Warren (he who was stupidly invited/allowed to deliver the invocation at Obama's Inauguration) is again pissing me off.

One of the supporters of Uganda's proposed [inexcusable] law that would execute homosexuals is Martin Ssempa. This heinous bit of legislation would also call for the prosecution of people who know someone who is gay but doesn't report them. Hellooooo McCarthyism. So sorry to see you again.

But I digress. The problem is that Ssempa is a pal of Warren. Ok. Past transgressions? HARDLY. When asked to comment, Consummate Asshole Warren stated [quote is from Newsweek], "it is not my personal calling as a pastor in America to comment or interfere in the political processes of other nations."

Really? REALLY???

Because let me tell you something - JESUS CHRIST had something to say in the matter. Actually, a few things to say. Something along the lines of, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone" comes to mind first and foremost. Can you really not follow HIS example???

Or how's this - "render unto Caesar what is Caesar's" may be a little obscure for a dickhead who can't think outside the box. But if you are a U.S. citizen, then one of your foremost tenets is the separation od Church and State, right? So laws venturing into religious territories violate the laws of the land. And Jesus was clear that politics/taxes/laws have NOTHING to do with your religious views. So if you try to enact laws based on your religion, they violate both the land you claim to love AND the direct orders of the dude you claim is your Lord and Savior.

There is NO passage in the Bible where Jesus says anything HIMSELF about gay people. He has a shitload to say about FIGS (look it up - you will laugh your ass off) and a bunch of other things, but nowhere does he mention gay people. John and Paul and all the ther apostles can be as homophobic as they like - I don't give a shit about what they say anyway. The Old Testament rules are silly in this day and age (who doesn't eat shellfish, who isn't allergic these days? Who checks whether their sweater is blended materials?), and the opinions of the Apostles are as well, to me.

The only person who matters in the New Testament is Jesus, and he was mum on the gay issue. Honestly, if he were to show up today, who would he be hanging out with? Who are our (unfortunately) proverbial lepers? Gays/trans people/HIV patients. Who do you think He would have healed in modern society?

So, yeah, Rick Warren needs to crawl back in his evil (yes, EVIL) little hole. Or at least denounce the laws supported by an acquaintance, which violate everything he is SUPPOSED to believe in.

Serious reading

I know I need to do some more fun and light-hearted stuff, and I honestly keep meaning to, but then things blow up or are brought to my attention, or I start following ideas and get sucked down the rabbit hole. Case in point: the newest (probably far-too-belated) concept I've been introduced to: "cis" - as opposed to "trans" - sexuality.

Until a recent kerfluffle amongst the Fat Acceptance community regarding ignorance of privilege, I had never heard of this terminology. It is a simple idea - just the notion of whether one identifies with one's genetic/biological gender, or not. Most people know what transsexuality is, but the flip side - cissexuality - is rarely explored because society says it is the norm (so what's there to talk about?).

I discussed it briefly - and ignorant of this concept - in my the bad and the good post. I didn't name the cis-privilege as such because I didn't know the concept, and am still working on realizing my personal blind spots when it comes to privilege. But what I was trying to explain was how someone privileged in this way should try to view those who live on the trans side of the world.

Because recent readings made me wonder WTF this "cis" concept was, I went searching. And I found this fantastic blog post that I feel should be required reading for everyone in this day and age:

http://juliaserano.livejournal.com/14700.html

PLEASE check it out. There are wonderfully simple explanations of terms and ideas, as well as why people might or might not choose to identify this way, and real-world stories and examples that bring it all home. The comment section is also highly informative.

My mind is open, but I am constantly being reminded by the world as to how far I have yet to go. I welcome the correction and education, because I know the distance I have already traveled on this journey. I can only hope that those of you reading this might accompany me along the way to a better understanding.

Puh-leez

I know I haven't bitched about politics lately, and I'm sure you ALL were crying your eyes out over this sad fact.

But these new "deather" conspiracy nonsense really has me irritated.

First, I have to disclaim: I am NOT in favor of universal healthcare. I think socialized medicine is a BAD idea. Many rational arguments supporting this stance can be found all over the internets, or in your brain if you feel like thinking critically. That being said, I'm totally cool with the government widening the Medicaid system or providing something like a cross between Medicaid and private insurance, for those who are currently not covered.

But the notion that socialized medicine = putting the elderly on death lists?!? That is FUCKING RIDICULOUS.

I have read nowhere of the elderly being killed off by the numerous countries that currently have socialized medicine. In fact, a large number of older people in those countries have a higher quality of life (or less stress, at least!) because medical costs aren't a concern for them.

I saw far too many heartbreaking situations when I was working in pharmacy, almost all of them involving retirees who couldn't afford their medications. We often gave them massive price breaks, and did the best we could to help them figure out how to get the most medicine they could afford on their limited budgets. I can be a cold hard bitch, but even I feel that no one should have to go through that.

Even though I'm not the biggest fan of what the President and Congress are trying to do, I'm not so stupid (or aggressively blind in trying to promote my agenda) as to think - or want to make others think - that the proposed healthcare plan will be an old-people and unborn-baby killing spree. And the people trying to convince the weak-minded and ignorant otherwise should be ashamed of themselves.

Ok, I'll say this

The media onslaught and speculation and everything else have brought me to this conclusion:

I feel immense pain and sympathy for the child Michael Jackson originally was. He had spirit and talent and potential, and what seemed to be a truly bright soul. I can't say what his father's abuse wrought, what the constant onslaught of media did (remember: her grew up before the paparazzi culture, and before deciding to want to be famous meant what it does today), or where his own decisions took him.

I do believe that every life has a chance to bring beauty and meaning and joy to the world, and for a time it seemed that his life might do more than many. And for that, for the lost chances and the questions and the pain surrounding his existence, I feel immense sadness.

I don't deny or disclaim anything I said before, but being reminded of the child he was, and knowing my own history, I can't help but feel some pity. I won't say what kind, as this isn't what my post is about, but the pity and sadness and the wish for something better are there.

And I do hope he is at peace.

Icon?

I have pissed people off here before, and probably will do so again now.

I am not sorry Michael Jackson is dead. Not at all.

From the perspective (music/talent) in which he is currently being commemorated? No. He was *marginally* talented musically. He was a "star" and an "icon", but as far as actual talent, he was pathetically lacking. Genius? Please. I'm sorry, but no. Look at Beethoven. Look at Freddie Mercury. Hell, look at Josh freaking Groban. MJ had some moves, but so do a lot of folks. He could falsetto, as can a bunch of others. JT might have been inspired by him, but he takes it way farther and much hotter.

But for me, the main point is and has been for a long time now that he was a child molester. And as someone who was molested as a child, all this posthumous fawning and forgiveness is painful and disgusting. Yes, I know he was never convicted in criminal court. But the testimony of his victims, along with the well-documented civil settlements, leaves no question in my mind.

The world lost a pop figure and a pedophile. Forgive me if I don't prostrate myself in anguish.

A Lesson From My Cats

If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it probably wants some food.

For those who have not seen her...

Here is my brave little Toaster!

As you can see, there is absolutely no visible sign of her injuries remaining.

Even better, there is little to no behavioral sign of what she went through. She is shy - most of our kitties are, probably because I'm such a hermit that people rarely come over - and sometimes flinches if Chris or I move too fast, but she never runs away. She faces up to whatever makes her nervous. Even more significantly (and surprisingly): she is SO nice with the other kitties! She always has a friendly sniff, and is happy to sleep on our bed with Elcy, Tito, and/or Boo (Garlic is too cool for school, and never sleeps up there). The ferrets make her nervous, but not fearful. She is a little more interested in Dolly than I like, but she has never gone after her - she just sits and stares till I clap my hands at her. Aside from her interactions with strangers and the other critters, she is very playful - especially for her estimated age of 5 - and physically affectionate. She hasn't been as much of a lap cat these past few weeks as she was when she first exited quarantine, but she sleeps at the foot of our bed daily, and seeks out attention from both me and Chris on the same level as the rest of the cats.

I am thrilled with how nice a fit she is with our family. Considering that we were very firm on our "4 cats" rule, I am pleased we broke it, and she has made it completely worth having done so.

More guilt

Ok, most folks know by now that I am plagued with guilt over my fish. They (the goldies - Bill was spoiled rotten, bless his little scaly departed soul) have never been in a proper-sized tank. I am entirely to blame - I didn't do enough research initially, and I allowed people who wanted to be "nice" to me (rather than yell at me, as they should have if they really gave a shit about the well-being of the fish I have decided to keep) to let me think I was doing right by them.

I have known for some time that I need a tank that is at least 100 gallons. I was fortunate to acquire my 65-gal from Freecycle, but have not yet found a larger one there. Instead, I have planned on a future purchase of a good-sized tank and good filtration system. In the meantime, though, I've been watching craigslist for something to come along that would do the job for (hopefully) significantly less than retail. Because full price for a decent tank and filtration system is going to be at least$1500. A rather hefty sum, which I would play gladly if the cash was just lying around, but it isn't.

Something popped up last month, but was quickly gone again. Tonight I found something that would possibly do very nicely. An auspicious start quickly devolved into a situation that has me upset.

I wrote with specific questions about the dimensions of the tank and the condition of it, the stand, and the filtration system. The seller also mentioned that they could provide photos upon request, and I asked for them, of course.

In response, I received answers to my questions, as well as a single photo. Then tank and stand look nice, but they featured a planted, stocked tank. At least 17 tetras of different varieties.

I started worrying, and wrote immediately, "I have to ask - the fish in the pic are NOT coming along, right? I'm assuming they have a new home? My goldies are big, and the older one is decidedly mean (as goldfish tend to be)."

The seller responded: "You can have the fish to . im in townsend and dont mind transpoting it there for you." (All spelling and grammar issues totally on his/her end).

So now I'm upset. Was I not totally clear? I have no need or desire for more fish. I'm too lazy a fish-mama as it is. I cannot handle a planted tank, or a tank with this many fish. The whole point of the new tank was to get a home for fish who need one, not to get a bunch of new freaking fish! And I can't put a goldfish in with the tetras - aside from the environmental incompatibilities, the goldfish would eat all the rest in a heartbeat, and I could NOT handle that.

So now I'm worried for those poor little finny babies - this person clearly doesn't give a crap about them. What would he/she do to them if I said I want the tank but NOT the fish? Don't tell me - I know. Worse, what will happen if I do nothing (as I now must)?

I'm angry, because now I can't buy this tank. I can't trust that all those lives will be treated properly if I try to arrange things how I need them to be. Which means that Goldie and Alfie will have to wait, and they have already waited so long. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I did. And now I know of a whole group of animal lives in peril that I can do nothing about. And I don't know what to say to this person, someone who has also had hopes raised - in a pretty crappy economy - that they might be able to sell something they may no longer be able to support financially.

I just don't know what to do or how to handle things like this - so many hypothetical burdens on my soul. And once the potential is there, it will always be there. If I was able to forget this sort of thing, my being would be much lighter, at least for now. But this tank, with its school(s) of tetras will stay with me the rest of my life. I will always wonder if they were ok, or flushed away so the current owner could pay some bills. And not knowing, I will assume the worst and feel responsible.

THIS is why I pay retail.

the bad and the good

The bad:

http://jezebel.com/5207676/marvel-divas-because-nothing-says-superhero-like-hot-sudsy-fun#c

and

http://io9.com/5239963/marvel-boss-were-not-sexist-just-loud

First off: *gag*, Marvel. Divas? Are you kidding me? You gave us Phoenix. Rogue. Storm. She-Hulk. All bad bitches who kick ass and take names. And while you may have discounted us, you gained a TON of female fans in doing so. But "divas"? Fucking DIVAS? Four gal-pal heroines who get together and re-enact Sex and the City scenes and personify pathetic old tropes of what it is to be female? I'm sorry, but this is a betrayal of the multitude of feminist fans you accumulated over the years. You debase your core female characters by allowing this pathetic mockery to take place on your publication's watch.

I am especially disappointed in Joe Quesada. First, to say (basically), "if you don't like it, don't buy our comics." And then to play it off as if what we are objecting to is the damn cover? That is the LEAST of the problems with the series. I can forgive all kinds of physics-defying boobage, physiology-defying waistlines, and gratuitous cameltoe. Hell, I've been doing it since I was 5 or so. He knows full well that the issue isn't physical appearance - sure, some people get hung up on that, but that hasn't been the uproar online and he damn well knows it - it's the trivializing of the lives of these female "heroines". Here's a sad question: in the Marvel Universe, is Cyclops "Big", or "Aidan"? And as a default, where does Logan fall? And how fucking disgusting is it that I have to draw this parallel to make my damn point?

I'd go further, but many of the commenters on the posts I linked to covered any and everything I might have to say. Except (possibly) this: All my spending money for the foreseeable future WILL be going towards the TPBs of Love & Rockets that I have been eyeing for some time now.


And now, the good:

http://jezebel.com/5239012/17-year+old-granted-permission-for-double-mastectomy

I COMPLETELY understand the need/desire for caution when it comes to life-altering decisions made by minors. Hell, I'm someone who made the conscious decision to wait to have sex till I was 18, because I wanted to be an adult and as in control of my life and decisions as possible. That being said, I have never heard of a post-op transgendered person suddenly changing their minds and wishing they hadn't had any surgery or hormone therapy. Ever.

When did you KNOW you were a girl? Or a boy? I've known as far back as I can remember. Imagine having that innate conception, that bone-deep knowing, only the "knowledge" was incorrect, because your genitals proclaimed you to be the opposite sex. Can you truly envision being forced to enter the bathroom or locker room of the opposite sex, on a regular basis, feeling you were intruding somewhere you genuinely didn't belong? This poor child wore a DIAPER in order to avoid just that scenario. A diaper. In high school.

I have known pain in my life. Pain I will not discount for anything. But I know and understand that what I have experienced is nothing compared to that soul-deep crisis of identity and self that transgendered people feel day after day for years. If not for a lifetime.

I bless the Family Court of Australia for doing this (what else to call it?) mitzvah for poor, tormented Alex. And I pray that the courts in the U.S. someday have the wisdom and compassion to follow suit.

Lippie Layering Madness

I don't know how many people I have consulted (whined to) about this, but I have been on a mission for years. The goal: to find a lippie that makes my lips look like all those models/actresses/etc. in magazines in the early-to-mid 90's. That brown/pink with the barest bit of shimmer, almost natural, not quite nude or MLBB ("my lips but better"), but something just beyond that.

I've mentioned my "color issues" here before - not only am I color-blind/weak, but my skin tone is surprisingly tricky. I'm a Little Brown Gal (sans grass skirt, shack, island wonderland locale): brown hair, brown eyes, and brown skin - though the skin is a much paler version this most recent decade, since I started freaking out about skin cancer and my crazy dark childhood tans. But I'm cool toned. Also, my lips are slightly pigmented - enough that if I didn't have an inherent desire for darker colors, I could throw on clear chapstick or gloss and look just fine. These things - plus scarring along the edge of my lower lip that limits formulation possibilities - make it ridiculously difficult to find exactly what I'm looking for.

But I have! Well, assuming what looks delicious tonight holds up in daylight, anyway.

I recently re-embarked upon my mission. My first stop was MUA; more specifically, the makeup board and then productville. I also consulted my good buddy Marta, who is as OCD about cosmetics as I am. After this, I headed on over to ebay. I hate paying retail.

Some of the lippies arrived yesterday, and I have a winning combo! I bought MAC's Viva Glam V (VGV), thinking it might potentially be a winner all on its own. The pink is great, and the pearly shimmer is dead on, but overall it's too pale. Also arriving was MAC's Slimshine lipstick in Funshine. I bought that knowing it would be horrendous on its own - too pale, too peachy - but figuring that it might be just what I needed if I had to break down and layer. And I did.

My go-to lippie for layering is MAC Slimshine in Prudeaux. It applies too unevenly and a tad too dark on its own, but it is glorious over my HG, Lorac's Gloss Stick in Sheer Berry. Once it was clear that neither new lippie would work as a stand-alone, I first tried applying Prudeaux and topping it with Funshine. Total bust. I got that tacky "dark lip liner with pale lipstick" look. I reversed the application order (Prudeaux over Funshine), and it was gorgeous! So I decided to try layering Prudeaux over VGV and it was almost exactly what I wanted! To the point where I emailed Marta and told her I had a winner.

But I can never leave well enough alone. My brain kept going, and a few hours later, I decided to try VGV + Prudeaux + a swipe of Funshine. Perfection! VGV gives the pink and shimmer, Prudeax gives the red/brown, and Funshine adds that suggestion of gold without actually being gold that pulls it all together!

Of course, I still dream of a single lippie that does all this in one tube. But I don't have to find that lippie, at least for the time being (*knock on wood*)!

This, plus my recent HG mascara discovery, means I'm free from cosmetics obsessions for at least the next few months! Maybe I'll go back to Weight Watchers?

The New Romance

I'll admit it with no shame: I am a voracious reader of romance novels. More specifically, historical romance novels. Ye Olde Bodice Rippers, if you will. I love reading about the falling-in-love process, especially when the author is good and there are believable roadblocks to make the story more enjoyable. And I won't lie - the sex is frequently quite awesome!

But, apparently, a new era has been ushered in! Echoing the timeless "lord falling for the governess" and "Duke enchanted by a bluestocking nobody", we now have the digital age paradigm: "Blogger falls for a commenter".

The meeting of minds was made first - a new order in and of itself - in that he found her blog and decided to follow it and comment regularly. He made several overtures, the main one being a date invitation including his Social Security Number so that she could check him out and feel safe. The date occurred, but she still held herself aloof. He persisted, and eventually they came together and embarked on an actual relationship. There was much back-and-forth on the blog, and numerous hints were dropped. In the end, the revelation was that he proposed and she accepted!

Maybe not the most whirlwind and epic love story, but definitely one for this age! I couldn't be happier for them.

And for those reading further, here is the blog post breaking down the NYT story as it actually was on her blog:

http://althouse.blogspot.com/2009/04/let-me-supply-missing-links-for-that.html

All the best, you two!

Seth Rogen: die in a fire.

As an actor, you have been blessed to be included in some truly fucking hilarious movies. I have no notion as to how much of that is your own doing, how much credit belongs to Judd Apatow, and how much is blind luck. I have been amused by you, emotionally drawn in by you, and - yes - even a little bit attracted to you.

But making fun of eating disorders? NOT cool. Do NOT play like your recent weight loss is due to bulimia (you're a fucking actor - your JOB is to mold your body to the next role), and do not make jokes about being thin with messed up teeth.

You should be ashamed of yourself, and you owe a gigantic apology to the millions of people out there with eating disorders. Yes, myself included. I may be self-serving, but I'm not making a buck off of mocking the horrific emotional pain of others. Bulimia is NOT a joke, and it is NOT a freaking punch line. It is a painful daily struggle, one that many do not come back from.

And Jon? Laughing and playing along? I expected better. My heart is hurting tonight, and I hope someday the two of you realize what asses you were. Though not at the expense of you or anyone you know or care about. Unlike you jackasses, I know the cost of an eating disorder, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even someone you know, a stranger to me, in order to teach you a lesson.

making light

Usually, The Daily Show doesn't depress me. Sure, it makes me aware of things that anger/upset/etc. me, but the show itself doesn't tend to do so. The Jim Cramer interview ep did, and now this most recent (Wed. the 18th) one did too.

Yes, the concept of "Snakes On A Plane" was hilarious (though the execution was horrendous). But 30,000 pythons loose in Florida? Not funny on SO many levels. Mainly, this is devastating from an ecological perspective. What used to take millenia of gradual migration now takes a few plane rides and a hurricane or two, to introduce a new species. There have been countless stories of nutria and those creepy toothy fish than can walk over land, not to mention kudzu, but this story is somehow amusing?

What's worse is I don't know who to be more upset for. There are the snakes, who were deliberately bred for sales (so not a natural number in any circumstance, let alone this one), and are unexpectedly competing for resources in a narrow market. I honestly feel that they are the ones who should be pitied the most - I can't imagine that the number of escaped snakes is remotely sustainable, so the die-off is going to be horrific. Then there are the "natural resources" (AKA the small wild animals and birds, plus the unattended pets) that this giant number of predators is seeking out; that population never expected or evolved to deal with an influx of so many predators! It breaks my heart to think of all those poor animals who would never have been in danger, now driven into "prey" territory by a scarcity of resources.

There are, of course, the people who these snakes "belonged to", who have lost their buildings (one assumes, since the snakes escaped) plus the animal inventory and who knows what else. And the people who will undoubtedly lose pets to this nightmare. Honestly, though, I feel far more pity for the "pets" than for the people who foolishly allow said critters outside alone and unattended.

As I said, I love snakes. I fell in love with a young boa years ago, and never recovered. So as difficult as the ethics are, someday I would like to own/live with one. If it wasn't already living on a diet of humanely-killed frozen prey, I would do my best to convert it to that diet, for the sake of the prey AND the predator. And it breaks my heart that all these poor young pythons are being forced to fend for themselves (to the detriment of the local population) because of human greed/expectations/money/poor planning.

My new hero(ine)

Barbara Walters! Check this out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XjZmErjFhK4

"And that's coming from her!" Priceless.

And then her FACE. Her opinion of Hasselbeck is so obvious in the few moments of "The View" that I randomly capture when people I give a crap about are on.

Babwa can give lame softball interviews to celebrities for the rest of her life. I will treasure her for this moment forever.

"Americans Can Do Anything"

Yes, Bobby Jindal, like ELECT BARACK OBAMA. The guy whose economic plan we support in a majority that vastly overwhelms those who actually believe the moronic talking points you just spouted.

Here's the thing - as I've said, I am pretty fiscally conservative. There are a LOT of programs/projects in the stimulus bill that I think should either be eliminated in general, or seriously re-vamped before we throw more money at them. You know what? I also hate spending $5 - 6 for a gallon of milk. But I do, every time, to buy organic. Because not only does it benefit me immediately, but it also has a positive global effect. The organic certification/regulation system is far from perfect, and I could easily spend less on "regular" milk. But I refuse to save myself a few dollars now in an unwillingness to at least try to invest in a better future for myself and the world around me.

And until the GOP grasps this concept, they will continue down their road to dinosaur-hood.

Kids These Days

I get SO tired of hearing about how teens/tweens/children in this day and age are growing up with no values or sense of their place in the world. Sure, they have an insane amount of information at their fingertips, and unprecedented access to things that were previously reserved for "adults". And they often communicate in ways that older folks (myself included! I refuse to even check Twitter out) don't understand. But to say that these things have distanced them from their humanity is deliberately myopic.

Last fall, I was moved to tears by the story of teens in complete sincerity electing a girl with Down Syndrome as their Homecoming Queen.

And today, I learned of this:

http://sports.espn.go.com/highschool/rise/basketball/boys/news/story?id=3914375

A basketball player lost his mother to cancer, and wanted to play in the game that evening. He had been left off the roster due to his family situation, but he wanted to play. The visiting team argued with officials to allow it without a penalty, but the officials basically said "rules are rules" and declared that the visitors needed to take their 2 free throws. In a wonderful gesture of sportsmanship and compassion, Darius McNeal volunteered to take the free throws, and then basically threw them both away.

These are just items that were noteworthy enough to make national news. How many more stories like this occur every single day? I'm willing to bet that it is FAR more than adults give "the younger generation" credit for.