Monday, October 20, 2014

Look quick! I'm being serious for a second.

I don't like to debate. I don't like arguments. I don't like verbal fisticuffs of any sort, and I hate self-righteousness and false piety. I loathe patronizing tones, and I absolutely abhor egotistical sanctimony. All that said.... I can't help what I know is written on my heart.

That Amendment 1 is some real crap, y'all.

What it comes down to - for me - is this: you want to take decisions that are mine, about my health and my body, away from ME (A, #1), away from my DOCTOR (B, #2) and give decision making abilities to a legislator?

What? *head spins*

Furthermore, and this is just me, again, it is absolutely unfathomable that someone who - ahem - lacks my biological complexities is assuming it's OK to amend our state constitution to make rules about my lady bits when their undercarriage is vastly different than mine.

I rebuke you, sir.

Not to mention, in an era where I hear cries for small government, small government! This is now proposing we add more regulations to an industry that is already regulated successfully?

Go eat some pie if you're bored. I have my hands full trying to dispel your nasty rumors about "women's rights." I have not heard anyone in the vote yes corner inform specifics about this pending legislation other to give vague assertions that "it's good."

Y'all, no one wants to have an abortion. No one wants to have to give someone an abortion. No one thinks Tennessee is an abortion destination - and what the hell does that even MEAN? It sounds like the worst honeymoon ever; like a trip NO ONE wants to go on. I realize I'm a grown up lady with a bean or two in my noodle, and I take measures to make sure I don't end up pregnant, but trust me - I do take comfort in knowing there's a last minute "not for me!" decision I can make. Yes, I want to live in a world where every pregnancy is feted with showers and booties and every child is raised in a loving, healthy and clean home. We don't live in that world, y'all. And passing this amendment will force unhappy, sad women who for what ever reason need an abortion, to seek care illegally in unregulated (insert gross place here). If anyone thinks this is going to stop abortions, they are 100% wrong.

Furthermore, this is the most patronizing piece of drivel I've heard initiated. This legislation does nothing but take away my rights and the rights of every woman in Tennessee. Every time I start thinking of this I picture a fat man in a suit patting my head and saying "There, there, little one. You're too pretty to make decisions of this magnitude, so I'm going to make them for you. Shh!!"

*punch punch punch*

To paraphrase Caitlin Moran from "How to be a Woman," raise your hand if you have a vagina. Now, raise your hand if you want to be in charge of making decisions about your vagina.

DING DING DING DING DING!!!

Congratulations, you're a feminist. And for the love, look through the gauze that's been looped around this proposed amendment and see it for what it is. Make informed decisions.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Bag full of bridal shower!

This isn't technically a real post, just a funny conversation I had the other day:

Sharon: OH! I'm glad you're here. I have a bag full of stuff I've been meaning to return to you for ages.

Me: Oh, thanks, but I don't remember lending you anything?...

Sharon: It's a bunch of stuff I've had forever - here, I borrowed a towel from you....  oh, and here's some tupperware you left at my house.... and OH - this is for your mom; it's stationary I made for her as a thank you for the game dinner last spring - sorry so late, Mary Ann! and here's some straps that go to that top I gave you.... and here - I had an extra Crock Pot liner I thought you might could use.

Me: Wow. This is like... a whole bridal shower in one bag.

Sharon: and you can keep the bag too! It's for your computer.

all that's missing is a groom

Over and out.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Most Horrifying Thing I've Found To Date On The Stairs

The stairs have been somewhat less than fruitful these days. Not much to show or write about. Well, the most exciting thing lately was this:

i see london, i see france

But! Yesterday morning, I found the most horrifying, terrible, oh-god-is-this-real-or-some-kind-of-effed-up-performance-art.

i'm pretty sure that's blood

I am a slow learner. I'm not always the sharpest knife in the drawer. But I have learned one thing, and that is that if you find yourself wondering "Is that blood?" Chances are good that YES IT'S BLOOD. Check your person immediately to verify that it's not your blood. It did remind me of that time we went to the Confederate War Memorial here in town and was told that there was blood still on the walls from the Confederate wounded and I was all excited to see Civil War blood but NO, it was just like a few drops of blood and PLEASE even I know what happens when you get shot - this was more like paper cut blood or something. And who leaves blood on walls anyway? This is poor housekeeping at its finest. What were they thinking when the war was over? "No no no! Leave that blood there! School children will want to see that on field trips in the years to come!"

WHAT HAVE WE LEARNED HERE? 

I don't know. Over and out.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Pumpkin Spice Lattes!

Kidding. I hate pumpkin. I don't like pumpkin pie especially, although DJ Smith took me to a pumpkin patch last year and I made that into a pie that was really good. See?

pumpkin selected

pretty pie made

But, I put my hatred of pumpkin aside and went with sis-in-law Kim and sis-in-law Mama Jean and we went to Marble City Glassworks one evening and blew pumpkins of our very own!

It was kind of intimidating at first. I had the glassworks instructor, Matt, tell me all the rules before I went traipsing around the studio. There was only one rule - don't touch anything hot.

Good rule.

I'm sure there's a more technical way to explain this, but here's what you do:

you get a blob of molten glass out of this thingie on the top of your stick thing

you twirl it around so your melty glass doesn't fall on the floor

you mash it around in some color (i picked orange because i'm an original)

you melt all the colored glass in this thing

here's where things went slightly askew - matt said ok BLOW! so i blew with all my might! and broke it. lesson learned everyone - blow glass gently...

so much like my pottery experience, i started all over again. more blobs on sticks!
 
more success with gentle blowing... i finally make it to shaping my pumpkin.

and matt puts the stem on the top!

kim's turn! twirling melty glass...

dipping up molten blob...

rolling and shaping her pretty pumpkin....

and then jean goes....

twirling....

more blobs....

gentle blowing...

and success! the three of us had a great time. matt photobombs while i hold the studio cat, dinah.

and here they are cooled down and finished! aren't they fun?!!

In other news, people have been asking how my face is doing after the stabs. It's good! So much so that I think I'll get the other remaining sets of face stabs. See? Marketing works! But, in the interest of full disclosure, here's what I put on the patient referral sheet the other day:

tee hee!

All the news for today. Over and out!


Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Face Stabbing for Beauty

Actual phone call between Johnna and myself:

Johnna: Call this place now. They're doing a treatment of microneedling for free.

Me: What is that?

Johnna: It's an expensive treatment for wrinkles, and they're doing a session for free - I called and scheduled myself, but they're only doing it for the first 50 people. Call now!

Me: Ok. (hangs up, makes appointment, calls back) Ok, now what is this? Is it what I think it is?

Johnna: Probably. It's a small needle they stick in your face.

Me: WHAT? I'M PAYING SOMEONE TO STAB ME IN THE FACE?

Johnna: It's free! And it apparently doesn't hurt.

Me: How the hell does it work?

Johnna: I don't know. I just know it's expensive and they're doing it for free.

Which explains why I spent my lunch hour today getting stabbed in my face for free. Thousands of times. Let you know how it turns out.

Over and out.