As Granny used to say, "Shit or get off the pot."

Now that I am gainfully employed, I hereby declare there shall be no more excuses. I MUST reduce the square footage of my ass. I used all of my school and job angst as a handy dandy excuse to stop exercising. I went from running 10 miles per week and whaling hell out of my punching bag, to taking lots of naps and sitting on the couch as much as possible.

I done did what I shouldn't of done. I done got lazy. I've become a veritable Three Toed Sloth, the world's slowest mammal, so sedentary that algae grows on its furry coat.

Since the very thought of running makes me want to hang myself, I shan't do it. I shall, however, Power Walk with 10 lbs of weights strapped to my arms. It's a start.

Get Your Hair Did

As I've been blue as a Smurf lately, I woke up Saturday morning with a purpose in my stride. Maybe I couldn't make anyone hire me, but I could get my hair did. I got my layers trimmed, and had my hair covered with a deep, rich, dark chocolate color that will gradually fade to mahogany. My curls are positively bouyant!

Also, I am a size 10 now. I'm usually a teeny weenie size 6. What can I say, I am a stress eater. But my tits are fabulous; I'm nearly a C cup. My tits can salute the flag! When I am a size 6, they are like fried eggs on my chest, not quite an A cup. I asked Chris what he thought. Should I get back down to a 6 and have teeny boobs or stay where I am and keep the jugs?

God/dess love him, this was his answer: "If I could gain some pounds and have a bigger cock? Hell, yeah, I'd keep the big cock!"

A Leading Lady

I often indulge myself with Autumn and Winter movies this time of year. It helps me get through the months of temps in the 90s, because I am NOT a hot weather person. Why I live in Alabama is often beyond me. Honestly, the high today in Inverness, Scotland is 55*F. That's just about perfect.

Anyhoo, I have been a big boil of depression, just waiting to burst. No job, everyone dumps their children on me. I averaged 5 a day last week. I actually prepared 15 plates per day for all these kids, not counting the Popsicles and apple juice and Kool Aid and snacks! What am I, a lunchroom lady?

So, I'm watching The Holiday and Kate Winslet's character realizes that she is playing the part of the "best friend" in the movie of her life, instead of the "leading lady". Well, hell.

Come.To.Jesus. That is exactly what I am doing. I'm waiting on Dream Job to call me, rather than sending out more resumes. I'm wallowing and blue. No more. Nay! I shall take today to rest and indulge, recover from my past few days of bleak. Tomorrow, the proverbial pavement and I are ONE.

Best Friend no longer. I am jumping back in to my luminescent personality, as a Leading Lady.

Let's Hear It for Love!

The California court found marriage to be a "fundamental constitutional right."

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness? This sounds like a fundamental step in that direction.

Well, Hell

I didn't get the job. No one did. The lady that was set to leave the hospital decided not to leave after all. She had already done the drug screen, orientation, etc..., but decided, at the 11th hour not to take the position at MegaHospital. And, no, I'm not eligible for the $21 per hour position at MegaHospital. They only hire those with experience. And, yes, I have an application and resume in with MegaHospital, just in case they change their policy.

!@#$%^&

FWIW, the director of the department at Dream Job said that she had been planning on hiring me. For what it's worth.

So, tomorrow morning, I'm going to punch the proverbial clock as soon as the kids get off to school. I'm going to tweak my resume, compose a fabulous cover letter and get out the phone book. I will proposition every hospital, doctor's office, dentist office, nursing home, home health agency, whatever I need to do.

I just have to say. This sucks ass. Sideways.

Clever Quote

I was talking, okay, well, bitching, on the phone to a dear friend of mine yesterday about how I'm not sure I'm living my dream and he said,

"Yeah, there's a support group for that. It's called Everybody."

I can't keep my balls dry

This hormonal spazmology currently experienced by moi is making me crazy. I stay hot all the time. I've always been hot natured (ie, never really have been one to wear a coat) I am absolutely comfortable at about 65 degrees. The temp goes any higher than that and I sweat. Needless to say, Summer in Alabama is an experiment in terror for me, since we hit the high 80's long about mid April and it only gets worse from there, until about early November, when it drops (occasionally) below 65 again.

Yesterday, the high was 64 here, which is just about perfect for an afternoon outside. Unfortunately, it got up to 74 inside my house and I was BROILING when it was time to go to bed. May I be crude? Of course I may, this is my public voice and I usually am in any case. My crotch was soaked, my underarms were soaked, and the area under my breasts was slimy with sweat. I had to turn my AC on in order to be able to sleep, and I did not turn the heat on at all last night. The outside temp went down to 46, so I should have to keep the kids warm. Still, they were wearing foot jammies and were snuggled under the covers, so the bad mommy police won't come and get me. When I got up this morning, all of my skin was dry! I looked at the thermostat and it said 64 degrees. Currently, I am barefoot, wearing a spaghetti tank top, and capri jammie pants and am so comfortable!

This is why I should move to Scotland. Well, this and the Scottish laird in a kilt who would immediately decided he could not live without me...

Practicality

Know how I want so much to spend some time in Salem, MA the month of October? Chris asked me yesterday what I wanted for my graduation present. It is only 61 days away, after all. I said that I wanted to go to Salem in October, so we found where we wanted to stay, the dates we wanted to go etc... All in all, nearly $800 for airfare (for the two of us) and $750 for our room. And we haven't eaten a bite yet. Hmmm. This is for three measly nights.

Well, our refrigerator is 13 years old, and hums so loudly we have to consciously talk over it. I have actually gone to the fridge and turned it off just to get a break from the noise. I have to prop the freezer door open with a broom handle to keep from getting smacked in the head while putting groceries away. The ice maker hasn't worked since 2000. Our hot water heater hasn't given us more than 3 inches of hot bath water in at least 2 years. I just take it as par for the course that I can't wash my hair and shave my legs in the same 12 hour period. We've had both elements replaced twice to no avail. The hot water heater is also 13 years old.

So today, I went to Home Depot and bought a new refrigerator and a new hot water heater. They will be installed next week. We are $1600 poorer, and I won't be going to Salem this fall, but I will have hot showers for years now, and a new side by side refrigerator with toys! It has filtered water and crushed and cubed ice in the door. Wow!

Gender Identity

I think that it is easier to be a female in the US than to be a male. This is new. Throughout most of history, females have gotten the shaft, pardon the pun. We had no rights outside of being the possession of a man and the mother of his children.

Now, though, I think it is different. See, as a female, I am perfectly free to be feminine and masculine. I can bake cookies and kick ass. I can sew quilts and do all the yard work. My butch side, if anything, makes me more desirable and attractive.

It isn't so easy for men. Let a man show that he has a desire for anything other than sports and hunting and people will sneer. Talk about his feelings? Heaven forbid! Know how to sew on a button? Please! This really pisses me off.

What about the freedom to pursue our own interests, whatever they may be? Why the American desire to label everybody? Why the boxes?

See, I embrace my femininity and my masculinity. I can hem pants AND I can deliver a seriously debilitating side kick. I can bake a scrumptious cake AND I can take a computer apart and put it back together again. Chris can use a circular saw AND he can cook a gourmet meal. He can benchpress 150lbs AND he can arrange flowers.

Yet, all that I can do is accepted, even praised. What Chris can do is questioned. This makes no sense to me.

I am not being wishy washy. I'm simply exploring all options.

I am so pissed about the Obama and Hillary bitch fight. They have both put a bad taste in my mouth. Yes, I am an average voter, and I am watching what you do. What I am seeing just now, is John Edwards sticking to his guns and not slinging mud at anyone.

I am of the school that thinks all primaries should be held on the same day. Were that the case, the press would have no opportunity to influence anyone. Ideally, people would do their research and then "vote their conscience" as my daddy has always taught me to do.

On the other hand, were it not for the press, I would have not seen the bitchiness. I would have not seen John Edwards rise above the bitchiness and say exactly what he thought and why.

Either way. I will vote February 6, at the primaries. I will go to the local church (where Chris and I are likely the only registered Democrats) to vote.

That being said, I still want a woman to be president, and I still think that Hillary is the woman for me. But I have said it before and I will say it again: We are all on the same team. Stop fighting.

There are no statesmen. Only politicians.

You know what bothers the shit out of me? Mudslinging. I have said it before and I will say it again. I support Hillary. I will support Obama if he wins the nomination. But I wish the aspersions of character would stop. We are on the same side here, y'all. I know that you have each spent zillions of dollars to get the votes, but isn't the good of America what we should really be considering here? Yes, it's politics. But I still hate it.

I hate it that no one has a chance to be an elected leader in this country unless they have zillions of dollars to spend. I hate it that when I get emails from Hillary and Obama (I am on both their lists) that they always ask for a contribution. I hate it that they are fighting each other. Hillary isn't a racist. Obama is not a wishy washy guy. Come on, yall.

I am a yellow dog Democrat. Meaning that I will vote for a yellow dog before I will vote for a Republican. Generally speaking, Democrats feel the same way about the issues that are important to me. Primarily, not trying to legalize "morality", and feeding the hungry and clothing the naked. You can call me a bleedin' heart liberal. But these are my core issues.

What Obama and Hillary both agree on is that this country needs some changes. And they are both willing to work to make those changes happen. Why do I support Hillary? Specifically? The number one reason is because she is so left wing that if 1/2 of what is on her wish list is achieved, the US will be a place that more closely mirrors my ideals. We all know about checks and balances. We all know that it takes 3 years of any presidency to get anything working, because of all the red tape. The Confederacy had 6 year Presidential terms. I think that makes good sense. Bush has done so much to make this country OPPOSITE of my ideals, that I would like to see us swing back toward the 21st century. Hillary is forward thinking.

What I really like about Obama is that he is a little green and idealistic. So was Lincoln. I have studied Lincoln more than I have studied any President. I respect him so much that I have a plaque of him on my bookcase in my living room. Nuff said.

So I support them both, but will vote for Hillary in the primaries. In Alabama, the primaries are in June, so by that time it's almost a moot point. I will vote for her all the same. After the votes are tallied, I will give 100% of my support to the Democrat nominee.

But I really wish they would stop fighting amongst themselves.

So. Let me tell you what happened.

Remember a week or two ago when I wrote about someone asking me if I was an atheist? That I am on some Christian right wing website?

Well, my girlfriend Drew came by my house to tell me that there may be a stink about to start. Her husband's mom had called him to tell him that she had heard that he was associated with a witch. She had found the website (witch vox) and "the stuff I read just made me sick to my stomach". Anyway, Drew's hubby proceeded to tell his mom that she and all her friends needed to "mind your own damned business, and if you really knew her you would not even consider the things that you are thinking about her" Which was really nice. But rather than subject my friends and family to this stupid shit, I decided to just make a fresh start.

Remember how in the 80s we were not allowed to like Fleetwood Mac because Stevie Nicks was a witch who worshiped satan and sacrificed babies on 6/6/86? Well, I was really afraid that this HIGHLY influential person at my kids' school would paint me that way. And that, as I put it to Drew, that my friends would be tainted with the brush of witchcraft. And, yes, I said that with my tongue firmly in my cheek. And, hell, if this was in the utmost of everyone's minds around here? I just needed to make it disappear so they could find something else to think about.

I am skittish

As a newborn colt. And I would know how skittish they are as my daughter spends every moment that she can with horses. Especially newborn horses.

It could also be said that I am skittish as an adopted half grown cat. Of which we have two as of this morning. And they are terrified of everything and are literally climbing the screens.

Why am I skittish? I am afraid that everything that I say will be traced by right wing McCarthy-ists. And that really REALLY pisses me off.

I have a right to my religion.

I have a right to write about my religion and send it out into the world.

They have a right to hate and fear me. But they do not have a right to censor me. They do not have a right to make me feel as though my children and my friends are threatened because they are associated with the likes of me.

I had a history teacher once who put this most eloquently:

"Your right to extend your fist ends when it hits my face".

And that's what "they" did. "They" hit me in the face. Just because I was there.