3 things about me

I would like to post something of substance, but I'm going to have to settle for the three things about me that you don't know.

1. When I'm playing a video game, I tend to move along with the way my character does. I amuse my friends when my character has to jump.


2. My guilty pleasure is looking up ......medical information....... at work, learning all I can. Yes, I slack off a little, but it's all in the interest of self-education. It eventually trickles down to me doing a better job. Right? (I don't blog at work because they monitor EVERYTHING we do on the internet)

3 I love to wear shorts in 35 degree weather and it doesn't bother me. Who needs pants? I don't.

Flood Warning for Scappoosians

Here's a couple pictures of the creek practically next to my home.





You might not be able to tell, but the water is incredibly high. At least six feet higher than normal. Under that water is a nicy stony embankment which is great for summertime. We are at risk for flooding, and the ground around our sewer system is getting saturated with water and it's.... not good.

Rhetorical questions

So if I make out with some strange guy in my dreams that wears hunting camouflage, does that mean I'm a trollop?

If I took off my splints so that I could write a little bit, does that mean I'm going to get in trouble? I've been keeping them on most of the time, I swear!

Why do I feel people write better than I do?

Why do I typically do the reverse of what people want me to do?

Interactive post

Mamma has always had a love for other people's possessions. Maybe it was ‘cause she had little of her own where she grew up. She regaled me over and over again with stories of just how meager her childhood existence was in comparison to mine. She told those stories to me when I had been particularly ‘ungrateful’, i.e. bad in school, accidentally broke a toy, or didn’t want to share with my brothers who would oftentimes destroy my favorite things on purpose. I got back at them later when they started to date. Somehow, I made sure their baby pictures were always seen by their girlfriends, and they knew why I embarrassed them too. I haven’t heard from any of them in a few years. I do so hope they are fine.

Anyway, I digress. Back to Mamma and her stories of her frugal girlhood and eventually her love of possesions that she didn’t possess. It got her into trouble one not- so-long ago day.

One thing I was never sure of after her lectures; was I supposed to feel guilty or glad that my parents gave me a brighter future? Did it depend on the mood Mamma was in? I thought about asking Mamma, but she had a quick temper sometimes. She was never abusive, but her words had a tendency to cut deep into me. When she noticed, she always gave me a hug and minded her tongue for awhile.

Then, at a church, she saw an amethyst bracelet that she wanted for her own. Trouble was, it belonged to Mrs. Clark DuMont, someone who was always showing Mamma up by raising more money for the church’s charities and liked to rub it in. I don’t blame Mamma for not liking Mrs. DuMont, hardly any of us poorer people did, but I knew something was up by the way she looked at Mrs. DuMont.

Ok, folks, it’s up to you to finish this story. Leave a comment, please. My hands need a break!

Today was a short work day. Yay. I am finding it hard to write since I have been put into splints. Both hands and I am trying to not hit the wrong button. Slow going. I do not have carpal tunnel syndrome, but my doctor said I was high risk for it. Thank Jebus that I do not have to have surgery.

Let me tell you that writer's block is nothing to the 'strained' feeling in my wrists. Wearing the splints for several weeks IS a small price to pay, but with ideas in my head and physically not up to expressing them is tough.

Lemme introduce you to one of my little friends whom I call Sam (the other splint is Frodo. Hey, I'll be stuck to them for at least a month):

I think it'd be more fun to be the Hulk. Or Marv.

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man 65% Hulk 65% Green Lantern 60% Supergirl 56% Superman 55% Catwoman 55% Robin 50% The Flash 40% Iron Man 40% Wonder Woman 36% Batman 35%

You are intelligent, witty, a bit geeky and have great power and responsibility.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...

????

Ten Top Trivia Tips about Randi!

1. Randiolatry is the mindless worship of Randi.
2. Randi can sleep for three and a half years.
3. Randi can eat up to four kilograms of insects in a single night.
4. In the 1600s, tobacco was frequently prescribed to treat headaches, bad breath and Randi.
5. Randi is actually a vegetable, not a fruit.
6. According to the story, Pinocchio was made of Randi!
7. Originally, Randi could not fly!
8. Randi can usually be found in nests built in the webs of large spiders.
9. Banging your head against Randi uses 150 calories an hour.
10. Pacman was originally called Randiman.

I am interested in - do tell me aboutherhimitthem

Experiencing technical difficulties....

Some of my fellow bloggers are having a hard time (still) getting to this site. So I'm trying a new template and I will be adding my links back up within a day or two.

Please continue to be patient.

I probably will not be putting the Chatterbox back up. My friend said it has been known to cause problems.

Today...

I came home early today because my hand went numb at work. Also last night, I was awakened by my hand ‘going’ to sleep. It has the kind of irony that I can appreciate, even though I know it is not a good sign.

Anyhow, I left work because I had a hard time typing. Duh. (My hand still feels a little weird.) I called the doctor’s office and the Medical Receptionist said she’d have a nurse call me ASAP. Ooookkkay, I thought, that’s a bit different.

So the nurse called and asked me a few questions, especially if my neck hurt. I told her it didn’t, but I should have mentioned it felt stiff. I didn’t think anything of it, but I do now. I have enough medical mumbo-jumbo stuffed into my cranium maximus to be dangerous. I have an appointment on Friday at 9:30, but she said if that happened again tonight, I am to go directly to a medical facility posthaste.

Keep me in your thoughts, or in Grant’s case, and/or incantations to the Dark Lord. Someone give me a hug? I could use a friend to talk to.

Bush Speaks Out

Now I know that Mr. Alito shouldn't be on the Supreme Court. Just about anyone that Bush wants, I'm rather dubious of admitting to any position in government.

Once abortion is banned, and I think it will be, what else is next?

I hope that Mr. Alito and Mr. Bush come up with a solution for all those unwanted babies. Maybe they'll start to establish orphanages.

Real conversation at work

Co-worker: What are you reading?

Me: A book about the origin of the Boxer rebellion in China.

Co-worker: Oh. I thought boxing was an American sport.

Me: (Silently groaning)

How I ended up in trailer park hell...

I had been 21 at the time when my mother and I got into a huge fight and I lived in Portland for some time with friends, which ended up to be an even HUGER mistake on my part. That, my friends, is a story for another time with personal consequences from that 'experience' that echoed in my life for years afterward.

Well, I had been living at home for a few months after I came back. Father said he didn't think I wanted to be in the house with mother, so he put me up in one of those tiny travel trailers you hitch up to the back of a truck. It was cramped and cold. A miserable experience, but Pops was right. I would have rather suffered in that than be in the house. As it was, my mother didn't make my coming back and living with them any easier. Then I went to Job Corps and came back to them and the dubious comforts of a trailer (which I kinda made a mess of, though I did not mean to), got a job, lost that job, got another one.

I had been living in that trailer for eight months when my parents had been looking for a place for my 'sister'. She had no interest in it, so they brought it to my attention. After the spartan existence of the travel trailer, this one seems like a palace. Plus, it was a way for me to get away from the folks. The real estate agent really pushed it at my parents and I.

I didn't qualify for the home loan, so my parents reluctantly agreed to take the loan while I pay them rent. Since it is not truly owned yet, I am stuck. I can't get it in my name because lenders do not finance single wide mobile homes. I am loathe to just walk away and I can't 'just' move because I am also renting the land it rests on. If I desert it, it'll look bad when I try to rent an apartment and my parents will kill me because they'll be responsible for the rest of the mortgage.

I know this is a subject that I have touched upon on my other blog, but I haven't gone into as much detail. I feel as if I truly am caught in a spider's web, and I do regret letting my dad pressure me into this place. I had never had my own residence before. I was very impressionable and thought my Pops had only my well being in mind.

Maybe when I'm on vacation, I'll just stay in Virginia Beach. It's tempting.

This Just In

A Guy is Not A Girlfriend.

Oh, I bought the extended edition of SIN CITY, so if anyone wants my blah version, let me know.

[EDIT] This is seriously important. I think I fixed what is wrong with my template. (Someone mentioned that my blog didn't show up completely and brought up the dreaded pop-ups.) It's either my template being wonky or perhaps it's the computer I am using. I noticed my blog didn't load all the way, but I thought it was my computer.

Anyway, I need your comments. Is it loading correctly now? Having any problems with pop-ups? If there are any problems at all, PLEASE leave a comment as to what is wrong and a possible solution. I am not all that computer language savvy.

I've been increasingly more content with my life as I increased my social activity. I think it's a good idea for people to get out and be active, make new friends, and generally make an effort to improve their life, whether it be through exercise or learning. I will like my blogpals, but frankly, the internet is not enough anymore. If any of you need anything, you know I'm there for you. Always.

I force myself to step out of my comfort zone by taking calculated risks, by having lunch with more of an acquaintance (not truly a friend, but could be). By going out with an insane (didn't know it at the time) co-worker. By opening myself up on this blog and to a select few. By letting those honored few see a glimpse of the real me.

I am running out of things to say, but taking tiny risks every day is worth it to me. Even if I'm rejected or fail, it's still an experience I should learn and grow from. I'm afraid of failure and it's a fear I know I'll need to conquer one of these days if I want to be half the person or writer I want to be.

My email has been short and curt lately, with hardly any of my charm and warmth. I feel chagrined because I *now* realize a man may not like to hear about my lunch with an acquaintance. Or listen to my bitching.

Untitled

I am a pregnant mother of six who is dying of AIDS in Africa.

I am the fat person who ignores the fat jokes and rude snickers tossed my way. You may think you are funny, some of you might believe you are helping me, but inside, I want to die.

I am the pastor who has lost his faith.

I am a soldier who has left her husband behind. His letters aren't enough.

I am drowning in fear, anxiety, and self-loathing.

I am a young man living on the streets because I chose not to live with an abusive father.

I am a cop who has seen too much in the line of duty, so I've hardened my heart to protect myself.

I am a doctor who saves lives, yet I always remember the few I can't.

I am a mother, though I love my children, who wonders what life might have been like had I waited to start my family.

I am a recluse who both desires companionship and desires being alone.

I am humanity, encompassing everything and nothing.

ACK! I HAVE BETTER TASTE! I SWEAR!

Your 80s Heartthrob Is

Bill Gates

Who's" Your 80's Heartthrob?

What's on the agenda this weekend? Sleeping in.

I'm getting more content with being in the alone zone, but then I am more social at work now. I know who to stay away from, the drama and gossip queens, the women who talk about their children CONSTANTLY, and I find that I like being with men. I wish that I hadn't ever called those of the fairer sex dorks. Not that there is many where I work, at least on the "grunt" level. However, most of our executives are male. Hmmmm.

Oh, I've included a sample of my Aunt's beloved music, so that you can get a good earful of what I suffer with, day in and day out. I don't hate her choice of music because it is Christian music, it's that it is BAD music. (This would be considered a good song on her radio station) Her music is over-produced and tooth destroyingly sweet. Oh, and I'm keeping the video up until someone comments.


Michael W. Smith - Healing Rain

PS. I know that you and I discussed going in June, but I have to save about $3,000 for the trip ($200 for my draw for my tooth, $600 to Bev., $200+ for my oral surgeon, and then the $2,000 for the actual trip), and I was wondering if we could talk about pushing it back 1 more month so that I can save up enough. Let me know what you think, k?

I love you my under-cover-gay-brother, but I can't push it back because we're switching systems in July, so hardly anyone has a vacation then. August is full up. September? I won't be able to get a full two weeks in. No one wants to trade either. Seems they have plans to spend it with their children before they ship 'em off to school. Parents can be so cruel.

I'm a 'specialist' in my unit, so that means I can't be gone when another 'specialist' is on leave. (I can't say what it is I do or where I work, hence me picking words carefully.) Alas, my line of work does not involve claymore mines, rocket launchers, or sniper rifles. But at least I have the occasional rogue stapler to deal with. Harshly and to the extreme extent the law will allow.

It has to be June, and I am exasperated, *mostly* because I can't change dates.

Maybe I should write about my Job Corps experiences, but that will have to wait for another time.

Hm. I'm bored. Time for a quiz.

You Are Not Scary

Everyone loves you. Isn't that sweet?

How Scary Are You?

I dig scary people, though. How 'out there' am I?

Cool Simpsons Link Swiped from Rhys

I've been Simpified.

Flights of Fancy

I think I read too much dramatic poetry/fiction as a kid. It helped to warp my corruptible young mind. I was asked a short time ago (by G) what books influenced me as a young'un. Ok, so I asked him first and he just returned the favor. Morte de Arthur, Black Beauty and Edgar Allen Poe, if you must know.

But...I must also add the poems The Highwayman and The Lady of Shalott. They encouraged fanciful flights of imagined woe when I was a child. Especially The Highwayman but especially The Lady of Shalott. I was on an Arthurian kick as a child and somehow I got it into my thick noggin that chivalry (that kind of chivalry anyhow) was what love was supposed to be.

*Sigh*. As a child, I thought that love made you complete, that love cured whatever evil lurked around the corner or in your soul. I was wrong. I think people make LOVE complete. I think that people have to be whole and healthy themselves before they ever truly find the kind of love that lasts.

But, I don't want to go all lovey-dovey on anyone. So... Look up those two poems I linked up. It might to surprise you to find that poems have death, despair and futile longing in them.

Post 162 ~or~ I can't think of a bloomin' title

I hate it when I have to threaten my brain with expulsion to come up with a creative idea. Eesh.

Um. I'm working on my Ring story more. Right now, I am in a particularily violent 'scene' that I may need to take a break from. I've got another story about a undead man rising against the Catholic Church, which is interesting so far. Well, in my own head, it's interesting. I've got another about what would happen if....oh, never mind. I'm not positive it's a good concept. And as you can plainly see, I've got enough on my plate.

I was not attacked by any of my office equipment and I sentenced the stapler off on a lifetime of community service...stapling my papers, of course. I mean, errr, the young woman who did not want to be identified.

Special Report on RNN--- When Good Staplers Go Bad

About noon today, a young woman was working quietly at her desk, stapling papers when the assailant, her previously faithful stapler, cruelly and maliciously bit down into the tender flesh between her index finger and thumb.

She howled in pain, attracting the attention of her co-workers and the stapler fell to the floor, presumably in an effort to escape. It was no use as the woman, who prefers to remain unnamed, wrestled it and put it in her top desk drawer, where it remains incarcerated while awaiting sentencing.

The victim wants to give her accused attacker this message. "I hope you get what you deserve in jail!"

Does the attack of the stapler mean other office equipment will revolt as well? I shudder to think what will happen to us all if faxes, computers and scissors decide to free themselves from the domination of man.

I got 30 minutes to write a quick post before I am-scray for work.

The weekend was fun, but short. (I had to do some OT on Saturday). I played some ultra-violent games. My perennial favorite Halo 2. Watched my bestest gay friend play GUN, sort of a western version of Grand Theft Auto, but for the less hell-bound crowd.

Other than that, I'm afraid my life isn't very exciting.

Oh, and although aforementioned friend isn't happy with me traveling to Atlanta by myself, I am. He tried to talk me out of it, but I'm a fairly obstinate person.

I leave you with this haiku, which is how I feel right now.

Tired bones arise
Still too damn dark and cold out
I want to find sleep

<-------I really wanted to find someone like this under my X-mas tree, but I guess it wasn't to be. Finally, I realize there isn't a Santa Claus. *Sniff, sniff*

Now that I've alienated my heterosexual male readers...

Ok. I must admit I've been slacking off in the working out department since Thanksgiving. Good news is that I didn't gain any weight over X-mas, but I didn't lose any either. At least I'm down twenty pounds from 270. Yes, I weighed that much and I felt horrible about myself and that I was unlovable because of my flubber. I'm not in great shape even now, but at least I don't feel as burdened down.

So...Monday, it's back to the gym. I'm not exercising to impress, I'm exercising so that I will not kill myself when I'm on vacation.

I have a few fears though. I know skin doesn't bounce back after weight loss. I'm scared that I'll be voluptious, but that my skin will hang in folds. Can anyone say ewww? I've heard women say they'd rather be fat than look at their naked selves. I don't want to see myself as a deflated, sad-looking used up balloon.

I don't want to *slowly* kill myself with food, either, which I know I had been doing for so many years.

He sounds like a Governor I can support.

Two words: Oh dear.

Bloggers that have great taste...

Give 'em a hand. Bravo!


The Pink Lady

Manuel and Co

Nobius

I wonder if this is a type of failure dream. Either that, or I 'invented' the first ever embarrassment dream.

I dreamt that I was getting off a plane to go meet someone. (I am not sure who, though I have an idea. I saw a vague figure, tall and well built, entirely too hot to be seen with chub-tastic me. I love inventing words or at least thinking I do. I am rambling..) and I happened to look nice. Dress, makeup, the whole ball of wax.

I trip over some idiot's suitcase, probably mine, and I am sent to the ground. I land entirely wrong and I hear something rip. I tore the part of my dress. I'm still decent, but everyone saw the incident and everyone laughed.

Now, I do know that *most*people wouldn't laugh in reality, but they did in my dream.

I've been thinking hard about my trip and I'm pretty excited though it's five months away. It will be my first real vacation in six years, so I am elated and scared and really needing the break. Let us hope that this isn't an evil sign.

My brain wants to secede from the United States of R...

That is all for today.

Come back tomorrow. Maybe my two brain cells will stop fighting long enough for me to find something worth talking about.

My destinations are on the red line, going home is the blue one. 

Too Many Kids

Ok, I don't mind if people re-pro-duce, though I think having children should be a privilege and not necessarily a right. I do respect those people that long for the pitter patter of tiny feet. At times, I want a set of my own running around. But I wonder of the mentality of those who just keep popping kids out and can't really afford them. I can't afford to give a child a good life, so I am keeping my eggs in a chastity basket.

Case in point: my cousin and her husband. They live in a three bedroom 'manufactured' house, also known as a nicer version of a mobile home. On December 26th, she had their seventh child. (Actually, eighth. They lost the first one) She's only two years older than me and they've been married fourteen years--the last three children came right after another with not even a year between them. Let's forget for a moment that having so many babies in such a short period of time is hard on a woman's body, my medical books recommend waiting at least two years, but the financial burden must be immense. Food, clothes, medical expenses, whatnot.

Children need room and shouldn't need to be stacked one on top of another like Legos. Two bedrooms for seven children. Five boys and two girls. And my cousin wants MORE. She homeschools all of her children and runs the house the way her husband desires her to. Yes, I believe they are fundamentalist in their beliefs. The girls must wear skirts at all times and the boys cannot wear colors that could be construed as anything other than masculine.

I saw her the other day and she looked so tired and older than thirty two, closer to forty. I hope she decides to take a break from pregnancy long enough to recover her health.

Then there are other people who really long for progeny of their own and for whatever reason, are unable to. I find sympathy in my heart for those couples rather than for those who simply breed for breeding's sake. (Though I do feel for their kids!)

My point is that I believe it is better to have only the offspring you can afford to give a decent head start in life to, rather than turning yourself into a baby mill. I'm not trying to tick off anyone, I'm just attempting to put forth what I consider common sense into the vastness of cyber space.

As always, comments and opinions are welcome.

Post 152

What Should I talk about? What is on my mind? Ok, what IS on my mind? I have no idea. Except for bone, skin and hair, that is. It's disturbing me that I have no topics to bring up or concepts to explore. [That I want to share right now.] I am in the dreaded 'dry' zone as far as creativity goes, I fear. On occasion, I sense that my little brain is simply running around in its hamster wheel and that I've written all that I could.

I know, I write for myself, but I want a purpose for my writing. I don't just want to spout off nonsense. A writer has to have a bunch of experiences to draw on and I haven't LIVED enough, which is part of the reason I want to travel to the East Coast. Hell, I haven't even performed my Right as An American and shot anything besides cans and watermelons. I'm just joking, folks.

However, I'm reading a book called The Silver Metal Lover by Tanith Lee, and so far it is a wonderful book. The main character of the slim novel is a young lady that seems so naive and trusting...and in love with a robot. It's charming and sweet, so far, but I'm expecting it to turn bitter-sweet.

Freed from religious persecution by Grant

1. Unitarian Universalism (100%)
2. Neo-Pagan (95%)
3. Liberal Quakers (87%)
4. Mahayana Buddhism (85%)
5. New Age (85%)
6. Theravada Buddhism (76%)
7. Reform Judaism (75%)
8. Secular Humanism (73%)
9. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (72%)
10. New Thought (71%)
11. Scientology (71%)
12. Hinduism (66%)
13. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (64%)
14. Taoism (64%)
15. Sikhism (58%)
16. Jainism (53%)
17. Bahá'í Faith (52%)
18. Nontheist (48%)
19. Orthodox Judaism (45%)
20. Orthodox Quaker (42%)
21. Islam (40%)
22. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (33%)
23. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (31%)
24. Seventh Day Adventist (30%)
25. Eastern Orthodox (21%)
26. Roman Catholic (21%)
27. Jehovah's Witness (20%)

I'm planning a trip this May to the East Coast. I know that I am going to Virginia but I was thinking of going down to Florida, maybe making a few stops along the way.

It's something that I really want to do because I want to see scenery other than Oregon. I have the itch to travel and expose myself (no naughty thoughts) to other parts of America. Besides, I need a vacation. Badly.

I thought about going to Texas. (To go see the Alamo) I thought about going to New York City. But my friend wants to go see his brother that lives in Virginia and perhaps going down to Orlando (For Disney World and Universal Studios) and I think that sounds like fun.

What do you guys think? Any opinions?

Take my Quiz on QuizYourFriends.com!

We were pretty wiped out financially after X-mas. I'll be fine now, so I thought I deserved a little treat.

I found this at the mall and thought it was nifty enough to buy:

Confessions of a (Former) Misandrist

Yes, it's me, in case any of you are sitting on the seat of your chair just waiting for the answer.

I used to think that men were nothing but uncaring yet thinking sex-starved beings, only interested in women for the, well, booty they could grab. I don't remember when I started believing that men were fiends with ONLY getting some on their minds. Maybe it made it 'easier' at the time to cope with issues pertaining to an incident, as a way of protecting myself.

I didn't realize that believing that men were crazed for only sex was actually dehumanizing those of the male influence. Or that I was hurting myself for latently loathing men because I missed out on knowing some damn fine people. I regret fearing and hating men and I have come to care for my masculine pals. They have made all the difference in the world and I thank you for showing me how real men are supposed to be.

I'm sorry for being a misandrist. It won't happen again.

Finally! After almost three years of my hard work, blood and tears (lots of those) going into my blog! I feel strangely proud, however, that I don't have a million readers. Go fig. 

I feel like crud. For the past week, this has been what I had to eat.

*Breakfast, toast and milk
*Lunch, nothing except for a diet shake on Tuesday. Drank water, though.
*Dinner, either grilled cheese sandwiches or top ramen with some canned veggies.

And I think I'm getting to be lactose intolerant because I pay for eating that cheese at work.

We don't have any edible fruit or fresh vegetables in the house, and I would love even a juicy hamburger at this point. Or spaghetti, or crab salad, or even a lightly seasoned chicken breast served with delicately prepared asparagus. No more ham, please. I miss bananas. I try to make my meals as healthy as possible from the limited selection, but as mentioned above; I am not feeling like the hot-blooded dynamo I was born to be.

As I peer into our shelves, I have some canned peas, spinach, and a medley of corn, carrots and the prerequisite wrinkled peas, top ramen, tea, spices and that’s it. Oh and a can of tuna (which I am saving for this weekend)and a jar of PB, which is for my roomie’s work sandwiches.

I find that I'm craving protein every time I go past that PB jar, but I am grateful for the 'food' that I do have and I realize that too many people have much less. I just want real food. Like the simple pleasure of meatloaf and potatoes.

Please forgive my grumpiness for the rest of the week.

I had offended one of my long time readers by Monday’s post. The way I saw the words wasn’t in a battery-acid-eating-at-your-face kind of rant.. I meant it to be mildly sarcastic and only applicable to those people who refuse to leave a situation like that, using religion as a ‘shield’.

Perhaps I crafted and patched those words poorly and without consideration. Perhaps more was read into those words than what I had intended.

It’s funny. People can call me a ditz, call me a idiot, but imply that my writing is horrible makes me upset for it is such a intimate extension of myself. Writing means so much to me, has been a part of my life since I was eight. I am an extremely “responsive” person, and I guess I let myself get hurt.

Still, I think that religion is going to be a no-no topic for some time because it is too ‘hot’ and too sensitive for some people.

I’m going to leave you with Haiku:

Bird softly stirring
Morning sun shines off feathers
Her song rises high

Trees rustled by breeze
Lake sparkling with diamonds
Jason slashing teens

... 

I'm never going to be the kind of writer I want to be. I guess I just don't have the ability to do the only thing I thought I was ever good at. Words cut, even written ones, and ESPECIALLY ones from friends. I'm going to feel those words for a long time, they're going to alter my perception of my own [lack of] ability.

Or maybe I should go join the ACLU, because writing anti-religious propaganda is what I write best.

From now on, I'm keeping my thoughts and feelings about Christianity, Faith and anything controversial to myself. I will make an effort not to be offensive. I'll just write about butterflies or birds.

Let's see what I can write about:

Love (Never been, so I can't give a realistic view of the most troublesome emotion in the world.)
Pain ...
Angst ...
Family (Dear Insert Favorite Diety Here)
Video Games (That'll bore you and besides, I'm too broke to rent more right now.)

Edit: I am no longer responsible for anyone being offended. Sorry.

Don't give it up, ladies. (Control, that is)

I can't believe what I read on a website concerning abusive married relationships. (I am so repulsed that I don't want to advertise it on my site.)

Note- I changed my mind. It happens. Click on external link to read the garbage spewed forth.

Staying with the man who hit you or your children.
Be Cheerful And Be Stoic No Matter if the Asshole Hits You Again.
Oh, and worship God.

First of all, anyone who hits my children (if I had any) or me, is a dead man. Physical abuse is something not to be put up with. Ever. Period. It is not a situation that anyone should be in. It demeans and degrades people far more quickly than religion can 'cure' it. And the cycle of abuse is continued on by the children. Abusers do what they do for the sense of power over their own miserable life by taking it out on another.

Anyone who touches me in an unwelcomed manner, after being told 'No', is liable to get a hellcat on their hands. Or their gonads removed. Oh, I forgot. The woman always has to give it up to her husband, to 'honor' him with the gifting of herself. Pardon me while I puke.

I Peter 3:1-4 says, "Likewise, ye wives, be in subjection to your own husbands: that, if any obey not the word, they also may without the word be won by the conversation of the wives; While they behold your chaste conversation coupled with fear."

I'll be darned if I'm going to just lay down and submit to anyone. Hmm...I wonder. Does "God" advocate submission? God sounds kinky to me.

Honestly, simply being a good example to your abusive husband (or wife) does not truly work. People have to make the decision to change. Most won't change because they think you are a doormat and they can do whatever they want because you'll NEVER leave.

Enter a marriage or exclusive relationship with the promise: "One hit and I'm gone." And stick to it. Go into any sort of 'three legged race' knowing where you stand on matters like that.

Instead, of simply smiling and trying to be a circa 50's housewife (by putting on a Donna Reed smile and repressing your emotions), deal with abuse, confront it, and move on with your life.