Ignore this! Go here instead...

I've been commenting on blogs lately that require me to use a Blogger account and this is the one I've chosen. Except I don't blog here anymore. Clearly. But thanks for all the comments! :)

Instead, you can find me at http://sparklepants.wordpress.com.

Can someone explain to me?

Why is it when a man attacks a woman and the woman cuts of his thinger with a knife that the doctor is totally concerned with restoring the thinger to "fuctionality"? Read the story here (opens in new window). I mean, I say if you use it as a weapon, I have every right to use a weapon ON it.

You go, thinger-chopping-off lady!

Gathering dust

Two years ago, I bought a pair of 4 1/2 inch chunky-heeled strappy black shoes. They were on sale and look fabulous and before I even left the store, the destiny of the shoes had been decided. Two years and the only time I've worn these shoes has been when people are over and I want to show them how ridiculously tall I am in them. With every passing day, the destiny of the shoes slips away. Currently, the shoes are in the closet buried under a pile of dirty clothes. Of the few pairs of shoes I moved across country, these are the most important. But what good will these shoes do me here in North Carolina? The destiny can't unfold here. These shoes will not be worn in North Carolina. They are strictly California shoes.

I don't want to spoil anything for those who watch Grey's Anatomy but haven't seen tonight's episode, but I couldn't stop crying after that one part in the stairwell. You know which one I mean. It made me angry and it made me feel like throwing the shoes into the nearest garbage can. What kind of foolish destiny did I wish for? Who wants to go through that? I know how the world works. I'm not an idiot; I know how the world works. Certain people pair with certain people. Did I honestly think an A would mesh with a K? It doesn't work that way. I'm strangely okay with that. When I am finally at a place in my life where I can adopt a baby, I have someone who will help me raise it. I will never be alone because I do have, in a way, my life partner. I don't need a man to complete me and I don't need a man to validate my existence or to get the things I want out of life (love, happiness, babies). The thing that disappoints is that I've never looked in a man's eyes and seen love. That's the rub. That's it.

Well, that and the fact that I will never get to wear those fabulous shoes and watch his eyes pop out of his head.

Attention citizens

To the patriots I saw on television tonight erecting a fence along the border,

(i) The flag should never be used for advertising purposes in any manner whatsoever. It should not be embroidered on such articles as cushions or handkerchiefs and the like, printed or otherwise impressed on paper napkins or boxes or anything that is designed for temporary use and discard. Advertising signs should not be fastened to a staff or halyard from which the flag is flown.

Nice American flag napkins. Why not go for broke and make American flag toilet paper?

**

I posted the above on another blog I use for general consumption. It's hosted by my employer, so I try to keep the controversy to a minimum. However, here I don't give a shit.

I have some questions. If all of these people are so incensed about these militant, disrespectful illegal immigrants, why aren't they out in the streets with counter protests? Is protesting something only liberals do? I mean, it's probably a good thing they aren't on the streets. I fear lynchings, I fear (more) hate speech.

These illegal immigrants are wrong; I'm not saying they should be allowed to cross freely into the country and remain. I'm saying that the process needs to change, not just for Latinos, but for everyone who wants to come to America. Take, for instance, Fauziya Kassindja. As you will see on the linked page, Fauziya escaped to the States after being forced into marriage and almost forced to endure female genital mutilation. She was held in a detention center where she, along with the other women, was mistreated and not allowed to seek treatment for various illnesses she contracted while in "prison." This woman was not a criminal. Many of the women she knew in the detention center were escaping abusive marriages and sex slavery. The hell Fauziya endured was unnecessary. The hell many people coming to this country out of desperation is unnecesary. The policy needs to change and the people working with these immigrants, most of whom are escaping poverty and abuse, need intense diversity and cultural sensitivity training.

Our country isn't that great right now. We're in a slump. We treat non-Americans with disdain and indifference. I take that back. We treat non-white people with disdain and indifference. If you look Anglo, you're in the club. If your skin is any other shade, you will be standing outside the fence, kthnxbye.

Friday 10

1. Midnight Train - Buddy Guy & Jonny Lang
2. Could It Be I'm Falling In Love - The Spinners
3. #41 (Live in Chicago) - Dave Matthews Band
4. Donde Estas Corazon - Shakira
5. Too Many People - The Moaners
6. Somebody That I Used to Know - Elliott Smith
7. The Stone - Dave Matthews Band
8. King of Underwater - Brandon Tyler
9. Melt With You - Modern English
10. Lover, You Should Have Come Over - Howie Day (Jeff Buckley cover)

The hardest part about growing up

Since moving away from Oklahoma in 2001, I've gradually grown into myself and continue to grow each day. I didn't really notice it until a friend of mine passed away, a friend who was the type of person you thought would live forever. His vibrancy, humor, warmth, and intelligence were admirable, and my memories of him run long and deep and a little bit worn from constant remembering. His nickname in grade school was Spud because he was unbelievably tiny. My family welcomed him into the fold when he started working part time for my father, right about the time my paternal grandfather was diagnosed with leukemia. This friend always had kind words for me and didn't spend his time making me feel stupid or gross or out-of-place. The night before my grandfather passed away, I went to a "dance" sponsered by the youth group of a local church. "Dance" meant "underage drinking" for most people. I went because I loved the loud music, the dark smoke-filled room, and that's where most of my friends were. This particular friend showed up, which was a bit of a surprise, and pulled me out into the middle of the room to dance to Hotel California, of all songs. We made a mockery of the art of dance and that moment has remained one of my fondest. When my friend died, my world turned black. Nothing made sense. How could he die? He was supposed to live forever. He was supposed to outlive his mother, a breast cancer survivor. His life was supposed to continue well into his 80s or 90s, not be cut short at 26.

On May 3, 1999, a tornado ripped through my small hometown and destroyed most of the landmarks, including the elementary school that had been around for almost 100 years. My maternal grandfather graduated from that school when it was still K-12. So many memories reduced to rubble in one dark night. I didn't really feel that loss until E died. I didn't really feel my separation from home until E died. The realizations came slow and steady: I live in California. E is gone. The town I grew up in has been scarred forever. I live in California.

There are a great many differences between the old me and the new me. My beliefs are entirely different than they were six years ago. I don't share my parents' unwavering devotion to the church and everything "Christian." I'm not sure if they're aware of that. They're amused that I'm a liberal. My father has finally stopped pointing out my "California accent." Those differences hurt because I am losing part of my relationship with my parents. I can't reason with my mother, who blames the people who stayed behind (were left behind) in New Orleans. I can't reason with my brother, who thinks the homeless and the poor are simply lazy.

But perhaps the most difficult differences for me to stomach are the ones between myself and my old friends. We have grown apart in ways I never imagined. They are married. They are parents. They hold beliefs I haven't held in years. There are times when I am so frustrated that I can't even speak or breathe. How could you think like that? How could you, of all people, be so closed off?

Part of me hates growing up. It hurts to see the ties grow thinner and weaker. It hurts to feel like I'm talking to strangers. My graduating class is celebrating its ten-year reunion this summer. I'm not attending because it holds nothing for me. It holds absolutely no appeal. What would we talk about? We ran out of things to talk about when we were still in high school.

However, part of me loves growing up. Recently, I was contacted on MySpace by someone I haven't been good friends with since 7th grade. I wasn't very nice to him and I knew it and he didn't deserve it. I apologized tonight and he appreciated it, but even before that apology, we were sending messages back and forth easily. He has come into his own and loves his life. I couldn't be happier for him. We're adults who are able to put the past hurts behind us and focus on what's most important: NOW. About a year and a half ago, I emailed an old college friend to see if the email address I found worked and if he remembered me. We have been in contact ever since. He has so many layers (like an ogre) that I never knew existed. I love him so incredibly much for so many reasons and even though sometimes I want to punch him in the face for being so typically male, I am always stupidly happy when I get an email from him.

And yet.

Growing up is so hard. Kind of like Christmas.

Yes, those are ads

I know it's lame and won't make me any money but it's worth a shot. I tried to choose the most bland, blendable format. Hope you're not too annoyed. See, the plain truth is that I need money. Desperately. Does anyone know how I could make $200 in a very short amount of time? Legally? I really don't want to get a second job but this having $50 to get me through an entire month is ridiculous. I mean, what if I can't afford chocolate? THE WORLD WILL IMPLODE.

I'm exhausted and sad and worried and I really just want to buy this damn plane ticket so I can relax about one thing at least.

What have I been up to? Not a lot. Work, work, work all day long...work, work, work while I sing this song.