Monday, June 30, 2008
It doesn't happen that often that, when I see what someone is wearing, I literally rear my head back in horror and suck in a deep breath of shock and terror all at the same time. But then... but then... I think... "I haven't cruised Fuggly in a while. Let's go take a peek."
I present: Holy Corn Chip, Batman - she's wearing an "Automatic car wash brush and can I get a wax with that - Oh - wait - you missed a spot are are you SURE you vacuumed the back shelf where are you going - I don't see enough shine on those rims what do you mean you're finished - I STILL HAVE BUG GUTS IN MY GRILL DAMNED YOU - dress".
And I know you've heard me say this before but truly, folks, what the hell is wrong with these people??
I present: Holy Corn Chip, Batman - she's wearing an "Automatic car wash brush and can I get a wax with that - Oh - wait - you missed a spot are are you SURE you vacuumed the back shelf where are you going - I don't see enough shine on those rims what do you mean you're finished - I STILL HAVE BUG GUTS IN MY GRILL DAMNED YOU - dress".
And I know you've heard me say this before but truly, folks, what the hell is wrong with these people??
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
It's not you. It's me. Really.
It's like a switch turned off right around the end of the year. I have been a faithful and active reader of many great blogs for a long time, and I've used AC here to spew on a regular basis for a few years now. But right around the end of the year I just pretty much stopped.
I also pretty much quit reading. Since the new year I've probably only read about three books. This compared to my normal two to three a month.
I'm spending a good bit of time doing random surfing. The kind where, when you end up on a page with an interesting article you read it, and end up opening five or six other tabs from items in that original article because you want to read more about whatever. This can become a long involved Chinese ring puzzle because theoretically this could go on For Ev Er.
But I seem to be coming out of my spontaneous hibernation. I read an entire book last week. I've caught up on one entire blog that I used to check in on every day or so (Hi Shadowfax!). I'm pretty sure that over this weekend I'll be all caught up with Pete, and Foo, and maybe even JK. It's like poof I've come out of a fugue. That, and I made fudge with almonds last night. Maybe that helped. Certainly couldn't have hurt. Although when The Husband came home and saw it his reaction was "WOMAN! Do you want me to just EXPLODE???" after which I calmly explained to him that it need not all be consumed in one gluttonous orgasmic sitting.
It's like a switch turned off right around the end of the year. I have been a faithful and active reader of many great blogs for a long time, and I've used AC here to spew on a regular basis for a few years now. But right around the end of the year I just pretty much stopped.
I also pretty much quit reading. Since the new year I've probably only read about three books. This compared to my normal two to three a month.
I'm spending a good bit of time doing random surfing. The kind where, when you end up on a page with an interesting article you read it, and end up opening five or six other tabs from items in that original article because you want to read more about whatever. This can become a long involved Chinese ring puzzle because theoretically this could go on For Ev Er.
But I seem to be coming out of my spontaneous hibernation. I read an entire book last week. I've caught up on one entire blog that I used to check in on every day or so (Hi Shadowfax!). I'm pretty sure that over this weekend I'll be all caught up with Pete, and Foo, and maybe even JK. It's like poof I've come out of a fugue. That, and I made fudge with almonds last night. Maybe that helped. Certainly couldn't have hurt. Although when The Husband came home and saw it his reaction was "WOMAN! Do you want me to just EXPLODE???" after which I calmly explained to him that it need not all be consumed in one gluttonous orgasmic sitting.
Labels: ac, bloggers, personal urban drama
Sunday, September 09, 2007
Well I sure didn't scrub the bathrooms today, or prune the oak in the front yard that is now scraping the top of The Husband's car when he parks in the driveway, but I did a lot of housekeeping here at AC.
I've been putting it off for a long time because well, it's like a death. I've got that little place waaaaay down there on the left where I store people who aren't posting anymore but who I won't let go of. Every once in a while someone comes back and I'm so very happy that I kept them there. For example, FooFoo5 came back and he's been down there for a good long while. But I knew that when I did my long neglected housekeeping this time that I would not only be moving some people down there who I think might come back but I'm not sure about, I knew I would have to move one down who I miss so much and I'm sure won't be back. Flea. Damned. Considering how much money I spend a year on The Black Dog's drugs to keep fleas away you would think it strange that I feel so sad about loosing one little Flea. But this is a special Flea. A naive, reckless, learned-one-hell-of-a-hard-lesson Flea, but a special Flea, nonetheless. Flea, I hope you're hiding out there on the ass of some dog under a pseudonym and that I'll run across you one day and recognize your angst.
But the real sad? The big sad? Aidan. Because you see I can't move him down there. He's gone, and not like Christmas snow, but for real. Wooosh. Gone like The House Of Pain. Gone. Poof. So that was a flat out delete and I didn't want to do that. Oh, and Aidan? I'm wanting pictures of the Australia trip, OK? OK???
Anyway. Lots of new people are over there. One notable includes Judge Susan Criss at As The Island Floats. She is a judge on Galveston who is sharp and funny, and I enjoy the perspective she provides to this old Houstonian who is a frequent (law abiding) visitor to her fine barrier island. Then there's JKTumlinson who is another local Houston person who I am trying to respect even though he blogs through the Chronicle. I like his stuff. And then there is the long over due link of my own little blog spawn, Jane. I've been meaning to put her over there for a loooong time and have been remiss. She's just put up a lovely new skin that I like a whole lot. And don't forget A Veneer of Certainty. Yet another Houstonian with a bad attitude.
There are really too many to specifically refer to here but some I read just about every day include D Listed because they're just so darned snarky, Isiah Carey because who doesn't like a local guy with integrity and scoop, Musings of a Distractible Mind, because, how can you not love a llama lover? I mean, damned. Llamas are soft even if that are evil spitters and more often than not stink.
I've been putting it off for a long time because well, it's like a death. I've got that little place waaaaay down there on the left where I store people who aren't posting anymore but who I won't let go of. Every once in a while someone comes back and I'm so very happy that I kept them there. For example, FooFoo5 came back and he's been down there for a good long while. But I knew that when I did my long neglected housekeeping this time that I would not only be moving some people down there who I think might come back but I'm not sure about, I knew I would have to move one down who I miss so much and I'm sure won't be back. Flea. Damned. Considering how much money I spend a year on The Black Dog's drugs to keep fleas away you would think it strange that I feel so sad about loosing one little Flea. But this is a special Flea. A naive, reckless, learned-one-hell-of-a-hard-lesson Flea, but a special Flea, nonetheless. Flea, I hope you're hiding out there on the ass of some dog under a pseudonym and that I'll run across you one day and recognize your angst.
But the real sad? The big sad? Aidan. Because you see I can't move him down there. He's gone, and not like Christmas snow, but for real. Wooosh. Gone like The House Of Pain. Gone. Poof. So that was a flat out delete and I didn't want to do that. Oh, and Aidan? I'm wanting pictures of the Australia trip, OK? OK???
Anyway. Lots of new people are over there. One notable includes Judge Susan Criss at As The Island Floats. She is a judge on Galveston who is sharp and funny, and I enjoy the perspective she provides to this old Houstonian who is a frequent (law abiding) visitor to her fine barrier island. Then there's JKTumlinson who is another local Houston person who I am trying to respect even though he blogs through the Chronicle. I like his stuff. And then there is the long over due link of my own little blog spawn, Jane. I've been meaning to put her over there for a loooong time and have been remiss. She's just put up a lovely new skin that I like a whole lot. And don't forget A Veneer of Certainty. Yet another Houstonian with a bad attitude.
There are really too many to specifically refer to here but some I read just about every day include D Listed because they're just so darned snarky, Isiah Carey because who doesn't like a local guy with integrity and scoop, Musings of a Distractible Mind, because, how can you not love a llama lover? I mean, damned. Llamas are soft even if that are evil spitters and more often than not stink.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
So a friend of mine works at a small local school for children with learning disabilities. There is a story in the paper today about how a thief came onto the school's property and stole a 1991 vehicle that belongs to the school. Before stealing the vehicle, the thief took the time to tear all of the stickers off the vehicle that identify it as belonging to the school. My question is: In a city the size of Houston, with probably a million cars in Harris County, why go out of your way to steal one made in 1991? I mean c'mon.
How's the pig, Jane?
I know a lot of physicians are up in arms about that Rate Md's web site, however - I've done some browsing there lately and found it to be right on the money. The physicians I know who are great have great ratings. The physicians I know who are asses or incompetent have bad ratings. I've found two specialty doctors there recently and referred friends to them based upon the physician's "5" ratings and the comments that accompany them. In each case, the friends came back and said "I love this doctor - every thing that you read to me on that web site about this doctor was true."
Hey, Lisa? When you email me at work and say "my ass is tired", and I email you back and say "You said ass.", please don't email me back and say "Fuckin' A". It is a work email, ya know. It's a big stretch from ass to fuck. And no, don't go there.
It didn't rain here today. Must be global warming.
How's the pig, Jane?
I know a lot of physicians are up in arms about that Rate Md's web site, however - I've done some browsing there lately and found it to be right on the money. The physicians I know who are great have great ratings. The physicians I know who are asses or incompetent have bad ratings. I've found two specialty doctors there recently and referred friends to them based upon the physician's "5" ratings and the comments that accompany them. In each case, the friends came back and said "I love this doctor - every thing that you read to me on that web site about this doctor was true."
Hey, Lisa? When you email me at work and say "my ass is tired", and I email you back and say "You said ass.", please don't email me back and say "Fuckin' A". It is a work email, ya know. It's a big stretch from ass to fuck. And no, don't go there.
It didn't rain here today. Must be global warming.
Labels: bloggers, cult, personal urban drama
Monday, August 27, 2007
My three new favorite band names:
This last one comes with a hat tip to JK, whom I seem to like even though he channels his blog through the evil Chronicle. For the love of periwinkle, man, get a URL!!
The Giant Golden Pickles
Slightly Charred Bagels
Naked Crisco Twister*
This last one comes with a hat tip to JK, whom I seem to like even though he channels his blog through the evil Chronicle. For the love of periwinkle, man, get a URL!!
Labels: bloggers, personal urban drama
Saturday, July 28, 2007
As a general rule, I don't like to make fun of people unless they drive SUVs. Or eat dog biscuits of their OWN FREE WILL*. But. You know? The French? They just make it so easy.
*WOOF! foofoo WOOF!
*WOOF! foofoo WOOF!
Sunday, July 01, 2007
R.I.P. Aidan Charles, M.D.
He's hung up his stethoscope. Thrown away his Guaiac cards. Pumped his last sphygnomometer. Stripped his stirrups from their table. De-embroidered his name from his startched whites. Is now folding paper airplanes out of his schedule II script pads. Waaaaaahhhhh?
I've read him for years. He's read me for years. We've laughed, we've cried, we've drunkenly stumbled down dark alleys together at 3am singing Haiku off key. (OK, well, maybe.)
Things I Have In Common With Aidan:
1. We are both dog lovers (but not in a gross way).
2. We are both tomato growers (but he's good at it).
3. We both think Primary Care ROCKS (I'm a great patient, he's a great doctor).
4. Be both live in cities that begin with a Capital Letter (Mine before his in the alphabet).
5. We both love to travel (Anywhere, Anytime).
6. We both know his real name (NOW you're jealous, HUH?).
Things I Do Not Have In Common With Aidan:
1. Snow (Brrrr).
2. M.D. (Not hardly).
3. Snow (Brrrrrrrrrrrr).
4. Genital Parts (I'm an innie - He's an outie).
5. Snow (BRRRRRRRRRR!).
6. Thinks he should close the Examining Room (Meshuggener).
Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. We'll miss you.
He's hung up his stethoscope. Thrown away his Guaiac cards. Pumped his last sphygnomometer. Stripped his stirrups from their table. De-embroidered his name from his startched whites. Is now folding paper airplanes out of his schedule II script pads. Waaaaaahhhhh?
I've read him for years. He's read me for years. We've laughed, we've cried, we've drunkenly stumbled down dark alleys together at 3am singing Haiku off key. (OK, well, maybe.)
Things I Have In Common With Aidan:
1. We are both dog lovers (but not in a gross way).
2. We are both tomato growers (but he's good at it).
3. We both think Primary Care ROCKS (I'm a great patient, he's a great doctor).
4. Be both live in cities that begin with a Capital Letter (Mine before his in the alphabet).
5. We both love to travel (Anywhere, Anytime).
6. We both know his real name (NOW you're jealous, HUH?).
Things I Do Not Have In Common With Aidan:
1. Snow (Brrrr).
2. M.D. (Not hardly).
3. Snow (Brrrrrrrrrrrr).
4. Genital Parts (I'm an innie - He's an outie).
5. Snow (BRRRRRRRRRR!).
6. Thinks he should close the Examining Room (Meshuggener).
Chuck, Chuck, Chuck. We'll miss you.
Labels: bloggers
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Well, now I feel REALLY Special. I mean, once China has banned your URL you've really made something of yourself, haven't you??
Are you important enough for China to worry about?
But then, maybe they're just still pissed about my Dad. When he still had his office in Beijing and he would sit up all night playing Gin with the Chairman Mao shirt wearers, he cleaned their clocks.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Jane is my first spawn. Much to my personal delight (because who WOULDN'T like to have spawn?) lil' old Ain't Chicken here is the blog that inspired her to bring Jane Loves Tarzan to life. I'm so proud.
Jane is currently on a fantastic vacation which I am totally jealous of. In exchange for my suffering, she has asked me guest blog to keep her minions happy and entertained until she returns with a slide show of beautiful pictures so she can rub all our faces in her great vacation.
So today, at Jane's place, I confess to my problem. "Hi. I'm Carol. I'm a Buffyholic." (The group) "Hi, Carol!"
Truly you should read her stuff. You'll love her pig.
Jane is currently on a fantastic vacation which I am totally jealous of. In exchange for my suffering, she has asked me guest blog to keep her minions happy and entertained until she returns with a slide show of beautiful pictures so she can rub all our faces in her great vacation.
So today, at Jane's place, I confess to my problem. "Hi. I'm Carol. I'm a Buffyholic." (The group) "Hi, Carol!"
Truly you should read her stuff. You'll love her pig.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
In a world where so many families are torn apart by divorce and selfishness, where the children are left by the wayside, I want to share a story with you about a family that is full of love and warmth. I know the people who make up this family. They are kind, funny, honest, and devoted, beyond all else, to their wonderful daughter. Let me tell you, this is one of the most delightful little girls I've ever met.
This is Pete's blog. While he is gregarious and has many friends, he is also a private man. In this story he has taken the very brave step of sharing with the world the story of his daughter, and his family's heartbreaking challenge of being confronted with being told their precious child has PDD-NOS. This is clinical shorthand for Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified. This is part of the autism spectrum of diagnoses.
Pete and his wife are working every day to make the best choices they can to help this beautiful child find her way in the world. They are luckier than many families in that they have good jobs, a fantastic support system of friends and family, and the drive to understand and work through the byzantine world of professionals that quite often offer opposing advice and contradictory services.
This post talks about the state of Texas and the irrational decisions that are made by politicians who control the insurance policies that govern this state. Please go take a read and, if you feel compelled to act, do so. This family has resources and love not available to all families. They all need the support of sane people, and of course, we all know those people are rarely the ones who make the laws.
This is Pete's blog. While he is gregarious and has many friends, he is also a private man. In this story he has taken the very brave step of sharing with the world the story of his daughter, and his family's heartbreaking challenge of being confronted with being told their precious child has PDD-NOS. This is clinical shorthand for Pervasive Developmental Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified. This is part of the autism spectrum of diagnoses.
Pete and his wife are working every day to make the best choices they can to help this beautiful child find her way in the world. They are luckier than many families in that they have good jobs, a fantastic support system of friends and family, and the drive to understand and work through the byzantine world of professionals that quite often offer opposing advice and contradictory services.
This post talks about the state of Texas and the irrational decisions that are made by politicians who control the insurance policies that govern this state. Please go take a read and, if you feel compelled to act, do so. This family has resources and love not available to all families. They all need the support of sane people, and of course, we all know those people are rarely the ones who make the laws.
Labels: bloggers, law, medicine, personal urban drama, texas
Saturday, April 28, 2007
A day of spring cleaning here at Ain't Chicken. Darn you good bloggers out there - I had to update my links just so I can keep up with you all.
In the course of doing this blog cleaning, I sadly moved Barbados Butterfly to the "People I refuse to let go of" section. I understand why she felt the need to take her blog invitation only - wow what a totally suck ass thing to happen to such a neat person. But I miss her writing. I don't have an email address to request an invitation so if anyone out there does have it, I would be most grateful for a kind word.
In the course of doing this blog cleaning, I sadly moved Barbados Butterfly to the "People I refuse to let go of" section. I understand why she felt the need to take her blog invitation only - wow what a totally suck ass thing to happen to such a neat person. But I miss her writing. I don't have an email address to request an invitation so if anyone out there does have it, I would be most grateful for a kind word.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Wanna know one of the reasons I love Firefox? Because when I'm reading Trench Doc and he uses words like succinylcholine and my lay brain thinks "what the hell is that?" I can double click on the word to highlight it, where upon a small red bound box appears under the word. I mouse over the box and The Free Dictionary is kind enough to give me a very detailed definition of said word. For example:
Of course, this leads to a desperate need to find out what "esterification" means, which leads to a whole hour's worth of dictionary-ing because I'm just the type of person who will occasionally sit down and actually read a dictionary. Usually when I run out of serial killer books.
A crystalline compound, C14H30N2O4, formed by esterification of succinic acid with choline and used medically to produce brief but complete muscular relaxation.This sounds like GREAT STUFF. I wonder if I can use it to shut up The Husband when he starts snoring at a decibel that sounds like the infamous description of a tornado "It sounded like a freight train coming through the living room!".
Of course, this leads to a desperate need to find out what "esterification" means, which leads to a whole hour's worth of dictionary-ing because I'm just the type of person who will occasionally sit down and actually read a dictionary. Usually when I run out of serial killer books.
Labels: bloggers, firefox, medicine
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Rick over at Obsession has blighted the universe with a tag. I will respond but I will not pass the virus along. It's the Five Things You Probably Don't Know About Me. I must tell you, I've been writing this blog for so long it took me a while to think of five things I haven't spewed already.
1. I freakishly met Lawrence Welk twice. Both times were in airports, two years apart. I started to worry at some point.
2. I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue.
3. I have been known to sing Patsy Cline songs in the shower. Loudly.
4. I saw a ghost once. And I was with three other people who saw it, too. And no, we were neither drunk nor stoned.
5. I used to play guitar but I gave it up when I was in my late teens because I wanted to have pretty fingernails more than I wanted to be a rock star.
1. I freakishly met Lawrence Welk twice. Both times were in airports, two years apart. I started to worry at some point.
2. I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue.
3. I have been known to sing Patsy Cline songs in the shower. Loudly.
4. I saw a ghost once. And I was with three other people who saw it, too. And no, we were neither drunk nor stoned.
5. I used to play guitar but I gave it up when I was in my late teens because I wanted to have pretty fingernails more than I wanted to be a rock star.
Labels: bloggers
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Everyone's favorite physician blogger (well, mine at least), Dr. Charles, has introduced the lay world to what is for most of us a new word: Eschara. It is a public record of private people's personal history as documented by the scars on their bodies. Take a peek at the memories invoked by the marks. Join me and my right wrist by sharing some of yours.Labels: accident, bloggers, husband, medicine
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Ain't Skeerd? Oh man I wish I'd thought of that. Rick over at Obsession has cracked me up.
First, his brilliant observation that both the garage and the kitchen are home to power tools in reference to my quest for the perfect toaster oven. (Cue the manly Tool Time grunt of happiness.) What he doesn't know is that a few years ago for Christmas I asked that my husband get me a new jig saw and a new set of saw horses. (Manly Tool Time grunt, again.)
Also, he unwittingly participated in an act of synchronicity. No one has ever before questioned the origin of my choice of "Ain't Chicken". Until now. Last week my buddy Lisa (Hi, Lisa!) asked why I had chosen this particular nome de plume, and now Rick has wondered to the whole world why I didn't choose Ain't Skeered. That, my friends, is synchronicity. So now, for all the people for whom this is obviously a burning issue (along with why the HELL Paris Hilton is so fascinating) is the thrilling scoop.
I've been subjecting the Blogosphere to Ain't Chicken for about four years now. When I first set out to rant to the world, I decided to include a photo of myself as part of my template. Since this blog is more or less "anonymous", I didn't want to show my wrinkled, grey haired self to the world. Also, I didn't want to burn its retinas. So I chose one of my favorite pictures of myself (look - over there on the left). Damned I was a cute kid. I mean, DAMNED.
Thus the origin of the name. It's got a clever double entendre which no one gets because it is so personally obscure.
First, I am indeed a dare devil, Mr. Rick man. Ever been towed through the air by a boat with only a silk parachute keeping you from becoming shark supper? Ever braved the Maw Of Hell in California? Long story but both my husband and I admitted to all our sins while promising God that if he would just keep us from falling off the side of that mountain in a mud slide we would be better people and floss every day. And we apologized for that time we had sex in a public stairwell. Oh wait that last part wasn't with my husband. But it WAS before we met so it's OK, people (Hi Beauboeuf!* Haven't heard from you in years. Call me!). Have you tried paddling through a Louisiana swamp in a pirough trailed by a hungry mob of alligators? OK I'll admit I incited the mob by throwing marshmallows to them but hey that's part of the FUN! You know that woman at your office who everyone thinks hasn't had a bath since Atlanta burned? Let me at her. I'll tell her in the nicest way possible that she reeks and that being near her is like letting a new whole generation learn what mustard gas smells like. And she'll walk away grateful! And I was the only one at Uncle Jack's funeral who was willing to say that all the people walking around talking about him like he was a saint were just hypocrites. He was a son of a bitch when he was alive and just because he was laying there in a coffin didn't mean anything had changed.
Oh, the other part. I've digressed. See that picture over there of the unbearably cute girl? It was Thanksgiving. I was three. See that thing on my head? We made those at Sunday bible school out of paper bags and construction paper. Everyone thought is was a chicken head. BUT NO! It was a TURKEY head. It was Thanksgiving. Get it? Turkey head? Ain't Chicken? GET IT? Go now and laugh amongst yourselves.
*Yes, I had sex with a man named Beauboeuf. Shut up.
First, his brilliant observation that both the garage and the kitchen are home to power tools in reference to my quest for the perfect toaster oven. (Cue the manly Tool Time grunt of happiness.) What he doesn't know is that a few years ago for Christmas I asked that my husband get me a new jig saw and a new set of saw horses. (Manly Tool Time grunt, again.)
Also, he unwittingly participated in an act of synchronicity. No one has ever before questioned the origin of my choice of "Ain't Chicken". Until now. Last week my buddy Lisa (Hi, Lisa!) asked why I had chosen this particular nome de plume, and now Rick has wondered to the whole world why I didn't choose Ain't Skeered. That, my friends, is synchronicity. So now, for all the people for whom this is obviously a burning issue (along with why the HELL Paris Hilton is so fascinating) is the thrilling scoop.
I've been subjecting the Blogosphere to Ain't Chicken for about four years now. When I first set out to rant to the world, I decided to include a photo of myself as part of my template. Since this blog is more or less "anonymous", I didn't want to show my wrinkled, grey haired self to the world. Also, I didn't want to burn its retinas. So I chose one of my favorite pictures of myself (look - over there on the left). Damned I was a cute kid. I mean, DAMNED.
Thus the origin of the name. It's got a clever double entendre which no one gets because it is so personally obscure.
First, I am indeed a dare devil, Mr. Rick man. Ever been towed through the air by a boat with only a silk parachute keeping you from becoming shark supper? Ever braved the Maw Of Hell in California? Long story but both my husband and I admitted to all our sins while promising God that if he would just keep us from falling off the side of that mountain in a mud slide we would be better people and floss every day. And we apologized for that time we had sex in a public stairwell. Oh wait that last part wasn't with my husband. But it WAS before we met so it's OK, people (Hi Beauboeuf!* Haven't heard from you in years. Call me!). Have you tried paddling through a Louisiana swamp in a pirough trailed by a hungry mob of alligators? OK I'll admit I incited the mob by throwing marshmallows to them but hey that's part of the FUN! You know that woman at your office who everyone thinks hasn't had a bath since Atlanta burned? Let me at her. I'll tell her in the nicest way possible that she reeks and that being near her is like letting a new whole generation learn what mustard gas smells like. And she'll walk away grateful! And I was the only one at Uncle Jack's funeral who was willing to say that all the people walking around talking about him like he was a saint were just hypocrites. He was a son of a bitch when he was alive and just because he was laying there in a coffin didn't mean anything had changed.
Oh, the other part. I've digressed. See that picture over there of the unbearably cute girl? It was Thanksgiving. I was three. See that thing on my head? We made those at Sunday bible school out of paper bags and construction paper. Everyone thought is was a chicken head. BUT NO! It was a TURKEY head. It was Thanksgiving. Get it? Turkey head? Ain't Chicken? GET IT? Go now and laugh amongst yourselves.
*Yes, I had sex with a man named Beauboeuf. Shut up.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Got scars? Me, too.
Dr. Charles has launched his newest blockbuster blog, Eschara.
C'mon. We've all got a little bit of the exhibitionist in us, don't we?
Dr. Charles has launched his newest blockbuster blog, Eschara.
C'mon. We've all got a little bit of the exhibitionist in us, don't we?
Thursday, October 12, 2006
FooFoo, who apparently is not necessarily overcome by inhibition, memed me. Normally I gracefully ignore such things because, well, because. Lots of becauses. 'Cause I'm not usually that energetic about lists at all. 'Cause it takes so much time to think it through and not be a dork. Mostly 'cause AC is pretty free form. I rarely if ever "work" on a post. I sit. I type. I proof five times. I publish. Then I proof again because I'm brain damaged. Then the next day I proof and fix that last little bit of wanton typing, and I go on.
But I like FooFoo, I like his writing, and I REALLY like the name of his blog. Now, because of all the above becauses, I am going to throw originality to the wind and somewhat let FooFoo's facts guide me. Sort of a free association thing for the shrink. I will say that when I first saw this I thought it said "30" instead of "20" and I thought: No freaking way! But I had just read his header so I'm claiming brain damage, again. And against my own better judgement, I'm passing on the curse of the meme to Muzik because since he's retired he's got ALL KINDS OF TIME.
20 Random Facts:
1. If I drink red wine, I will puke on you. Don't think I don't mean it.
2. Dream vacation? Two weeks in a stilt house somewhere South Pacific where the water looks like aquamarine and none of the stuff in it is poisonous. Oh, and with a cook and a housekeeper who sneak silently in on a small outrigger, do their work, and leave, like the magic elves who helped the cobbler in that children's story? I've always wanter magic elves.
3. I never passed the parallel parking part of the driver's exam. The trooper took pity on me and passed me anyway. I was driving my father's land yacht Lincoln Town Car. The trooper said he didn't think HE could parallel park it.
4. I have cassette tapes of my paternal grandmother's voice. She was a writer, and she recorded a lot of our family history orally. My favorite talks about an uncle of hers on her mother's side who fought in the War of Northern Aggression.
5. As a child, I felt personally robbed by not having an older brother. I thought all little girls were supposed to have a big brother.
6. I have been known to drool a little in my sleep.
7. I hate hate hate to wear shoes.
8. I am secrety envious of people who can remember the difference between rolled oats, whole oats, cracked oats, etc. etc. Damned you, Alton.
9. I have been in four car accidents in my life, three of them bad enough to send me to a hospital. One of them was a doosy. All four times it was the other guy's fault.
10. I don't give a rat's hairy ass who Mark Foley fucked.
11. I still say best concert ever: New Barbarians: Third row back, Keith Richards singing only to me.
12. I will never understand why the "ear tube" trend for childhood ear aches continues to chug along.
13. Math just pisses me off.
14. When my maternal grandmother was pissed off, she would go to the kitchen and wash dishes in a big soapy sink. She would wash clean dishes if there were no dirty ones. The whole time she would sing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus", just under her breath.
15. I have vowed to myself that I will never again read a book I'm not truly enjoying just because I feel like it is something I "should" read.
16. My first roommate was a drag queen. A week after he moved out, he broke into our apartment and stole all my makeup, a pair of red suede pumps, and a gold lame skirt. Yes, I owned a gold lame skirt. Shut up.
17. Cold shrimp boiled in Zatarran's, served with cocktail sauce and extra horseradish, would be my "Stranded on a desert island" food.
18. Poetry (with very rare exceptions) bores the living chocolate Christ out of me.
19. My first guitar was a Strat! I gave it up in favor of growing out my fingernails.
20. I was once chased by a bull. They're not as slow as they look.
But I like FooFoo, I like his writing, and I REALLY like the name of his blog. Now, because of all the above becauses, I am going to throw originality to the wind and somewhat let FooFoo's facts guide me. Sort of a free association thing for the shrink. I will say that when I first saw this I thought it said "30" instead of "20" and I thought: No freaking way! But I had just read his header so I'm claiming brain damage, again. And against my own better judgement, I'm passing on the curse of the meme to Muzik because since he's retired he's got ALL KINDS OF TIME.
20 Random Facts:
1. If I drink red wine, I will puke on you. Don't think I don't mean it.
2. Dream vacation? Two weeks in a stilt house somewhere South Pacific where the water looks like aquamarine and none of the stuff in it is poisonous. Oh, and with a cook and a housekeeper who sneak silently in on a small outrigger, do their work, and leave, like the magic elves who helped the cobbler in that children's story? I've always wanter magic elves.
3. I never passed the parallel parking part of the driver's exam. The trooper took pity on me and passed me anyway. I was driving my father's land yacht Lincoln Town Car. The trooper said he didn't think HE could parallel park it.
4. I have cassette tapes of my paternal grandmother's voice. She was a writer, and she recorded a lot of our family history orally. My favorite talks about an uncle of hers on her mother's side who fought in the War of Northern Aggression.
5. As a child, I felt personally robbed by not having an older brother. I thought all little girls were supposed to have a big brother.
6. I have been known to drool a little in my sleep.
7. I hate hate hate to wear shoes.
8. I am secrety envious of people who can remember the difference between rolled oats, whole oats, cracked oats, etc. etc. Damned you, Alton.
9. I have been in four car accidents in my life, three of them bad enough to send me to a hospital. One of them was a doosy. All four times it was the other guy's fault.
10. I don't give a rat's hairy ass who Mark Foley fucked.
11. I still say best concert ever: New Barbarians: Third row back, Keith Richards singing only to me.
12. I will never understand why the "ear tube" trend for childhood ear aches continues to chug along.
13. Math just pisses me off.
14. When my maternal grandmother was pissed off, she would go to the kitchen and wash dishes in a big soapy sink. She would wash clean dishes if there were no dirty ones. The whole time she would sing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus", just under her breath.
15. I have vowed to myself that I will never again read a book I'm not truly enjoying just because I feel like it is something I "should" read.
16. My first roommate was a drag queen. A week after he moved out, he broke into our apartment and stole all my makeup, a pair of red suede pumps, and a gold lame skirt. Yes, I owned a gold lame skirt. Shut up.
17. Cold shrimp boiled in Zatarran's, served with cocktail sauce and extra horseradish, would be my "Stranded on a desert island" food.
18. Poetry (with very rare exceptions) bores the living chocolate Christ out of me.
19. My first guitar was a Strat! I gave it up in favor of growing out my fingernails.
20. I was once chased by a bull. They're not as slow as they look.
Labels: bloggers, personal urban drama
Sunday, August 06, 2006
I will now respectfully submit my entry for the Second Annual Dr. Charles Tomato Contest.
I am competing for a glamorous award, fame, and fortune. How could I resist?
My category is new this year, *Tomato Most Likely to Raise Public Awareness of Global Warming AND THEN Defuse the Global Threat of Terrorism*, and carries with it great responsibility considering that, you know, terrorism is bad.
So without further blah blah blah:
Ta! Da! I Win!
Oh wait, you probably need more, huh?
OK. Here goes.
First, I grew the Texas Wild this year.
It is a vine that is native to The Great State of Texas. This supports a healthy earth environment in many ways. Such as.
It means that there is no negative environmental impact created by the engineering of a hybrid vine. Potential damage caused by engineering tomato vines though hybridization could come from a variety of sources, from the building of buildings to house scientists who hybridize, to spewing tons and tons of waste into the air by flying hybridized plants from far away places like Belgium and New Jersey.
Also, this means that my vine is naturally more immune to indigenous pests (so I don't have to poison the Earth by using chemicals to kills God's Creatures) and typical Texas drought (so I don't have to pamper it with lots of water that has to be processed and is scare in many parts of the world).
The vine was purchased at Wabash Antiques and Feed, a local gem. This is where you go for native plants, organic herbs, ducks, chickens, and all sorts of natural ways to keep your garden healthy and growing without poisons. Hell, even their building is made out of recycled barn wood. That means they didn't have to deforest the Earth! Ha! Beat THAT for supporting the Anti-Global Warming Thing.
I planted my EARTH LOVING VINES in hanging 5-gallon paint buckets (MORE recycling) that served a duel purpose because they allowed me to plant lovely flowers in them also. This means I provided sustenance for wild bees and butterflies, and that can only help the Earth, right? AND it means that I got double use out of the water and soil that was used to nourish these delicious red globes of flavor. VERY Earth friendly, my friend.
And finally, my native Texas tomatoes are staunchly anti-global-warming because they're SO FREAKING SMALL.
Since they're so freaking small, they reach their full size quickly and ripen promptly. That means it takes less water, etc., for them to grow, and it means there were always nice bright red snacks ready to pluck so I didn't have to drive my Ozone Destroying Carbon Fuel Burning Car to the grocery for a tomato as I waited for my (non-existent) Beefeaters to start to blush. Not to mention (although I will) that they're the perfect sized treat for grackles, blue jays, and mockingbirds, so ONCE AGAIN, my tomato vine provided nourishment to nature. Ahhhhhhhhhh.
Finally, remember, this is a TEXAS vine. Texas, having at one time been an independent nation, has a International Image quite separate from that of the Evil Empire that is The United States of America. Texas is FRIENDLY (Hi, ya'll!), and Texas is welcoming. Texas does not have a military that invades other countries. That makes it easier to like us. I have traveled to many foreign nations and, while I have sometimes felt not wanted because my passport was blue, I have been actively recruited as a friend and dinner companion when I explained that I was, indeed, a Texan. One man in London actually pulled on my arm and tried to take me home to meet his mother. Texans are so well regarded in other parts of the world that England still maintains the original Texas Legation embassy, hoping that we will come back.
In spite of the fact that one of the largest petrochemical complexes in the world is 20 miles from my front door, THE TERRORISTS haven't blown it up. That's because we're Texans and they like us. (Look, you have to work with me here, ok?)
So...my native Texas tomato vine helps fight terrorism across the land by reinforcing the good will that Texas brings to this great nation of 50 states, The District, our various territories and protectorates, and whatever the hell Puerto Rico is. My tomatoes remind the world that there's more to America than smart bombs, secret military prisons, and Paris Hilton.
If ALL THAT can't win this catagory, this gig is RIGGED. :)
I am competing for a glamorous award, fame, and fortune. How could I resist?
My category is new this year, *Tomato Most Likely to Raise Public Awareness of Global Warming AND THEN Defuse the Global Threat of Terrorism*, and carries with it great responsibility considering that, you know, terrorism is bad.
So without further blah blah blah:
Ta! Da! I Win!
Oh wait, you probably need more, huh?
OK. Here goes.
First, I grew the Texas Wild this year.
It is a vine that is native to The Great State of Texas. This supports a healthy earth environment in many ways. Such as.
It means that there is no negative environmental impact created by the engineering of a hybrid vine. Potential damage caused by engineering tomato vines though hybridization could come from a variety of sources, from the building of buildings to house scientists who hybridize, to spewing tons and tons of waste into the air by flying hybridized plants from far away places like Belgium and New Jersey.
Also, this means that my vine is naturally more immune to indigenous pests (so I don't have to poison the Earth by using chemicals to kills God's Creatures) and typical Texas drought (so I don't have to pamper it with lots of water that has to be processed and is scare in many parts of the world).
The vine was purchased at Wabash Antiques and Feed, a local gem. This is where you go for native plants, organic herbs, ducks, chickens, and all sorts of natural ways to keep your garden healthy and growing without poisons. Hell, even their building is made out of recycled barn wood. That means they didn't have to deforest the Earth! Ha! Beat THAT for supporting the Anti-Global Warming Thing.
I planted my EARTH LOVING VINES in hanging 5-gallon paint buckets (MORE recycling) that served a duel purpose because they allowed me to plant lovely flowers in them also. This means I provided sustenance for wild bees and butterflies, and that can only help the Earth, right? AND it means that I got double use out of the water and soil that was used to nourish these delicious red globes of flavor. VERY Earth friendly, my friend.
And finally, my native Texas tomatoes are staunchly anti-global-warming because they're SO FREAKING SMALL.
Since they're so freaking small, they reach their full size quickly and ripen promptly. That means it takes less water, etc., for them to grow, and it means there were always nice bright red snacks ready to pluck so I didn't have to drive my Ozone Destroying Carbon Fuel Burning Car to the grocery for a tomato as I waited for my (non-existent) Beefeaters to start to blush. Not to mention (although I will) that they're the perfect sized treat for grackles, blue jays, and mockingbirds, so ONCE AGAIN, my tomato vine provided nourishment to nature. Ahhhhhhhhhh.
Finally, remember, this is a TEXAS vine. Texas, having at one time been an independent nation, has a International Image quite separate from that of the Evil Empire that is The United States of America. Texas is FRIENDLY (Hi, ya'll!), and Texas is welcoming. Texas does not have a military that invades other countries. That makes it easier to like us. I have traveled to many foreign nations and, while I have sometimes felt not wanted because my passport was blue, I have been actively recruited as a friend and dinner companion when I explained that I was, indeed, a Texan. One man in London actually pulled on my arm and tried to take me home to meet his mother. Texans are so well regarded in other parts of the world that England still maintains the original Texas Legation embassy, hoping that we will come back.
In spite of the fact that one of the largest petrochemical complexes in the world is 20 miles from my front door, THE TERRORISTS haven't blown it up. That's because we're Texans and they like us. (Look, you have to work with me here, ok?)
So...my native Texas tomato vine helps fight terrorism across the land by reinforcing the good will that Texas brings to this great nation of 50 states, The District, our various territories and protectorates, and whatever the hell Puerto Rico is. My tomatoes remind the world that there's more to America than smart bombs, secret military prisons, and Paris Hilton.
If ALL THAT can't win this catagory, this gig is RIGGED. :)
Labels: bloggers, personal urban drama
Monday, May 22, 2006
There is great anger in the land. The peasants are quaking in fear. There is grumbling. There is talk of anarchy.
There are WORMS.
A tiny, green little fucker about an inch long and as thin as the lead (graphite) of a pencil.
ONE of his ends was in the little beauty. The OTHER END was in the big one.
MY fury knows no bounds. He is ANT FOOD. He is screwing with my chance to win a Fabulous Prize.
No more nice gardener. No more "mmmm good soil and sunshine are all you need!". I'm going to buy something VILE that will repel even Sheila Jackson Lee and kill everything within a 12 foot radius of my tomato plants.
There are WORMS.
A tiny, green little fucker about an inch long and as thin as the lead (graphite) of a pencil.
ONE of his ends was in the little beauty. The OTHER END was in the big one.
MY fury knows no bounds. He is ANT FOOD. He is screwing with my chance to win a Fabulous Prize.
No more nice gardener. No more "mmmm good soil and sunshine are all you need!". I'm going to buy something VILE that will repel even Sheila Jackson Lee and kill everything within a 12 foot radius of my tomato plants.
Labels: bloggers, personal urban drama
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Monday, February 06, 2006
Well boys and girls, here we are a year and a half after The Accident and guess what I've done in the last two weeks? More doctors appointments. More printing of EOBs to send to my attorney since my insurance company says "Yes we're mailing them to you" but THEY'RE NOT. More pain.
CAT scans. Oh - when they tell you they're using contrast and that it's going to feel warm and make you think you have to pee REALLY BADLY, they're NOT LYING.
MRI scans. Yeah, I amazed the techs on that one since they had to wake me up after it was over - my snoring was bothering them. "Didn't the sound from the machine bother you?" Obviously not.
Now, a neurologist. I just love new and exciting medical specialties. My husband's been saying for years that there's something wrong with my head. Maybe now he'll have proof. And I'm sure this will mean more MRI time. More CAT scan time. More needles.
OH - they keep asking me - Did they do a CAT scan in the ER? Did you lose consciousness? Did they do an MRI? What part of I HAVE NO MEMORY OF ANYTHING do they not understand?
On a nicer note, the nice man over at Sound of Muzik has asked me to appear as a guest blogger. When I have something nice to say, I'll let you know.
CAT scans. Oh - when they tell you they're using contrast and that it's going to feel warm and make you think you have to pee REALLY BADLY, they're NOT LYING.
MRI scans. Yeah, I amazed the techs on that one since they had to wake me up after it was over - my snoring was bothering them. "Didn't the sound from the machine bother you?" Obviously not.
Now, a neurologist. I just love new and exciting medical specialties. My husband's been saying for years that there's something wrong with my head. Maybe now he'll have proof. And I'm sure this will mean more MRI time. More CAT scan time. More needles.
OH - they keep asking me - Did they do a CAT scan in the ER? Did you lose consciousness? Did they do an MRI? What part of I HAVE NO MEMORY OF ANYTHING do they not understand?
On a nicer note, the nice man over at Sound of Muzik has asked me to appear as a guest blogger. When I have something nice to say, I'll let you know.
Labels: accident, bloggers, medicine, personal urban drama
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Anyone who reads this spot regularly knows I'm a big fan of Dr. Charles's spot. He recently posted about a patient who has an extra chromosome resulting in Down Syndrome.
The mother of a beautiful daughter who has Down wrote a comment on Dr. Charles's site and she also posted on her own site about Dr. Charles's post. If you read her site you learn a few things. You learn that she has a wonderful child whom she loves very much. You learn that if you are looking for a excellent resource for information about the incredible variety of issues surrounding Down that you've found it.
You also learn that, like so many people who are living in a world that is challenging and can be heartbreaking, Rebecca seems to pick people's words apart and apply all sorts of things to a statement that are completely imagined or just plain factually incorrect.
She picked one word out of Dr. Charles's caring and beautiful post, the word autonomy, and extrapolated an entire emotional reaction to his statement that has nothing at all to do with what he said.
He wrote, in speculating on the feelings of the parents of his patient:
"Were natural spontaneity, genuine warmth, and stubborn cheerfulness adequate compensation for myriad health problems, mental deficiency, and the impossibility of autonomy?"
She wrote in response:
"It appears that it is the doctors belief that someone with T21 is incapable of being a productive independent citizen in society. Maybe this is not his intention, however it sure seems very clear by the verbiage used. Am I to believe that my child is incapable of succeeding in this life, unable to ever live on her own? Am I to fall victim to the fact that simply because she has an extra chromosome on her 21st pair that she is not valued as an individual in this world?"
Incapable of being productive? Of succeeding? Not VALUED??? This is not at ALL what Dr. Charles wrote. By no interpretation is this what he wrote!
I posted a comment to Dr. Charles's post suggesting that it would be excellent if everyone could have the benefit of the wonderful personality characteristics that are typical of folks with Down. This prompted the same woman to post a comment on my site. She posted it in the comment section for my recent post about the slime balls Ken Lay and Jeff Skilling. I have deleted her comment because it didn't have anything to do with my post. I'm pasting it here because it's the same sort of thing:
"You said (on Dr. Charles blog): Wouldn't it be great if we could isolate the part of the defect that creates the warmth, love, and kindness that is so typical of Down sufferers and inflict it upon the whole world?
Just so you know Trisomy 21 is a condition, specifically related to having an extra chromosome on the 21st pair. It is no cancer nor does anyone who has T21 suffer from it.
Your wonderful remarks all the way up until the last sentence were immediately dismissed by anyone who ventures upon this public blog, as your final statement is completely off base and inaccurate.
--
Posted by Rebecca to Ain't chicken. at 1/21/2006 05:17:20 PM"
Off base and inaccurate. Lets take the two words she has gotten all emotional about.
Is Down Syndrome a disorder? Let's look at a documented definition from Merriam Webster:
Disorder
Function: noun
3 : an abnormal physical or mental condition
If Down Syndrome is the result of an extra chromosome then YES, it is an "abnormal physical condition" which means YES, it is a disorder. A disorder that results in a specific set of abnormal physical AND mental conditions.
Next, let's look at a documented definition from Merriam Webster of the word "Suffer"
Suffer
1 : to submit to or be forced to endure
2 : UNDERGO, EXPERIENCE
3 : to put up with especially as inevitable or unavoidable
4 : to allow especially by reason of indifference
intransitive senses
1 : to endure death, pain, or distress
2 : to sustain loss or damage
3 : to be subject to disability or handicap
So this mother says folks with Down don't suffer. I think that's defensive crap. Anyone who endures the spectrum of health problems that accompany Down suffers. They can have anything from asthma to blood disorders to gastric problems, vision problems, communication disorders, gum problems...the list goes on. They have the knowledge that they are "different" and they are often either ignored or abused because of this.
Being hit by a car who's driver is too stupid not to run a red light and never being able to walk again without pain is suffering (my personal challenge). Being stricken with a lifetime of health issues because of an extra chromosome is SUFFERING. It's a fact. Does that mean that the victim shouldn't go forward to live a full life with love and hope? Of course not. But it is demeaning to the victim to say they don't suffer.
This mother stated in her comment on Dr. Charles's site that her daughter has "tracheo-broncial-laryngo malacia (spelling?), sub glottic stenosis, chronic asthma, swallowing problems, and GERD. Although she has these issues I have never regretted having her." Lady, that sounds like a LOT of suffering to me. And of course you don't regret having her. She's probably the love of your life, as she should be. Thank God she has such a loving mother.
But defensive denial doesn't do her or you any good.
And yeah, I have some pretty valid perspective to state that. I work at a school for special needs kids. Every day I see the parents of these incredible little humans dealing with their realities in different ways. Some are touchy. Some are angry. Some are so kind it make me want to cry. All of them are facing what for me are unimaginable challenges. But the ones who are the happiest are the ones who take the reality in the face. Yeah, their kids suffer. And so do their families, because what they're doing, raising kids with special physical and/or mental challenges, is probably the hardest thing a person with EVER DO.
The mother of a beautiful daughter who has Down wrote a comment on Dr. Charles's site and she also posted on her own site about Dr. Charles's post. If you read her site you learn a few things. You learn that she has a wonderful child whom she loves very much. You learn that if you are looking for a excellent resource for information about the incredible variety of issues surrounding Down that you've found it.
You also learn that, like so many people who are living in a world that is challenging and can be heartbreaking, Rebecca seems to pick people's words apart and apply all sorts of things to a statement that are completely imagined or just plain factually incorrect.
She picked one word out of Dr. Charles's caring and beautiful post, the word autonomy, and extrapolated an entire emotional reaction to his statement that has nothing at all to do with what he said.
He wrote, in speculating on the feelings of the parents of his patient:
"Were natural spontaneity, genuine warmth, and stubborn cheerfulness adequate compensation for myriad health problems, mental deficiency, and the impossibility of autonomy?"
She wrote in response:
"It appears that it is the doctors belief that someone with T21 is incapable of being a productive independent citizen in society. Maybe this is not his intention, however it sure seems very clear by the verbiage used. Am I to believe that my child is incapable of succeeding in this life, unable to ever live on her own? Am I to fall victim to the fact that simply because she has an extra chromosome on her 21st pair that she is not valued as an individual in this world?"
Incapable of being productive? Of succeeding? Not VALUED??? This is not at ALL what Dr. Charles wrote. By no interpretation is this what he wrote!
I posted a comment to Dr. Charles's post suggesting that it would be excellent if everyone could have the benefit of the wonderful personality characteristics that are typical of folks with Down. This prompted the same woman to post a comment on my site. She posted it in the comment section for my recent post about the slime balls Ken Lay and Jeff Skilling. I have deleted her comment because it didn't have anything to do with my post. I'm pasting it here because it's the same sort of thing:
"You said (on Dr. Charles blog): Wouldn't it be great if we could isolate the part of the defect that creates the warmth, love, and kindness that is so typical of Down sufferers and inflict it upon the whole world?
Just so you know Trisomy 21 is a condition, specifically related to having an extra chromosome on the 21st pair. It is no cancer nor does anyone who has T21 suffer from it.
Your wonderful remarks all the way up until the last sentence were immediately dismissed by anyone who ventures upon this public blog, as your final statement is completely off base and inaccurate.
--
Posted by Rebecca to Ain't chicken. at 1/21/2006 05:17:20 PM"
Off base and inaccurate. Lets take the two words she has gotten all emotional about.
Is Down Syndrome a disorder? Let's look at a documented definition from Merriam Webster:
Disorder
Function: noun
3 : an abnormal physical or mental condition
If Down Syndrome is the result of an extra chromosome then YES, it is an "abnormal physical condition" which means YES, it is a disorder. A disorder that results in a specific set of abnormal physical AND mental conditions.
Next, let's look at a documented definition from Merriam Webster of the word "Suffer"
Suffer
1 : to submit to or be forced to endure
2 : UNDERGO, EXPERIENCE
3 : to put up with especially as inevitable or unavoidable
4 : to allow especially by reason of indifference
intransitive senses
1 : to endure death, pain, or distress
2 : to sustain loss or damage
3 : to be subject to disability or handicap
So this mother says folks with Down don't suffer. I think that's defensive crap. Anyone who endures the spectrum of health problems that accompany Down suffers. They can have anything from asthma to blood disorders to gastric problems, vision problems, communication disorders, gum problems...the list goes on. They have the knowledge that they are "different" and they are often either ignored or abused because of this.
Being hit by a car who's driver is too stupid not to run a red light and never being able to walk again without pain is suffering (my personal challenge). Being stricken with a lifetime of health issues because of an extra chromosome is SUFFERING. It's a fact. Does that mean that the victim shouldn't go forward to live a full life with love and hope? Of course not. But it is demeaning to the victim to say they don't suffer.
This mother stated in her comment on Dr. Charles's site that her daughter has "tracheo-broncial-laryngo malacia (spelling?), sub glottic stenosis, chronic asthma, swallowing problems, and GERD. Although she has these issues I have never regretted having her." Lady, that sounds like a LOT of suffering to me. And of course you don't regret having her. She's probably the love of your life, as she should be. Thank God she has such a loving mother.
But defensive denial doesn't do her or you any good.
And yeah, I have some pretty valid perspective to state that. I work at a school for special needs kids. Every day I see the parents of these incredible little humans dealing with their realities in different ways. Some are touchy. Some are angry. Some are so kind it make me want to cry. All of them are facing what for me are unimaginable challenges. But the ones who are the happiest are the ones who take the reality in the face. Yeah, their kids suffer. And so do their families, because what they're doing, raising kids with special physical and/or mental challenges, is probably the hardest thing a person with EVER DO.
Labels: bloggers, medicine, personal urban drama
Sunday, November 06, 2005
I SLEPT WITH AIDAN CHARLES.
Well, ok, I slept not technically with HIM, but with his book.
And it's not like the book put me to sleep. It's more like I was soooo sleepy and I was reading his book and the words started to blur. I wanted to finish that one essay I was reading but I couldn't make it. So I woke up with page 84 stuck to my left ear. AND IT WAS GOOD.
Looking for a great holiday gift for that loved one who thinks books are the BOMB? You can't do better than Legends of the Examining Room. Like his blog, it is page after page of beautifully crafted words. He makes you laugh, he makes you smile. He'll bring a tear to your eye, he'll make you think. He'll make you wish you could write half as well.
How can you resist a writer who can put together deeply insightful and honest sentences like this one:
"It may take a while before I can tell you why your teeth itch when you eat condiments. Quite a long while, actually, so in the meantime, don't eat that stuff."
Go. Buy it. You'll be glad you did.
Well, ok, I slept not technically with HIM, but with his book.
And it's not like the book put me to sleep. It's more like I was soooo sleepy and I was reading his book and the words started to blur. I wanted to finish that one essay I was reading but I couldn't make it. So I woke up with page 84 stuck to my left ear. AND IT WAS GOOD.
Looking for a great holiday gift for that loved one who thinks books are the BOMB? You can't do better than Legends of the Examining Room. Like his blog, it is page after page of beautifully crafted words. He makes you laugh, he makes you smile. He'll bring a tear to your eye, he'll make you think. He'll make you wish you could write half as well.
How can you resist a writer who can put together deeply insightful and honest sentences like this one:
"It may take a while before I can tell you why your teeth itch when you eat condiments. Quite a long while, actually, so in the meantime, don't eat that stuff."
Go. Buy it. You'll be glad you did.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
"What’s so exciting about technology and the state of the Internet RIGHT NOW is that I can hire myself and maintain my own property. And so can anyone else, it’s just matter of working to make it happen and taking control of the power like you would a big hard cock, and there I said it."
Dooce.
Dooce.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Isn't that just about the most enticing BLT you've ever seen?
I know there's a friendly competition going on over at Doc Chaz based on Growing The Great American Tomato but I gotta tell you - my CEO has you all beat.
Last week my department went out to her place near Brenham for a retreat and I got introduced to her garden. She has the most outrageously happy tomato plants I've ever seen. There are eight of them and each one is heavier than the previous with fruit. They're at least five feet tall. They've burst out of their cages and are riotous with their delight. You can smell them 20 feet away.
I was gifted with a basket of red globes to take home and for lunch today I ate one of these sandwiches. I forgot how good tomatoes are supposed to taste. I was raised on home grown sweeties and now that I've run out I've got to go kiss some ass and convince to her bring some back to me every week while they last. I just don't feel like I can ever eat another gassed-in-the-warehouse-store-bought-tomato again.
Good luck competitors! I wish you could mail me some!
Friday, March 18, 2005
OK Folks, here it is: I am succumbing to the trend. This is my "Top Ten Things You've Probably Never Done But I Have List".
1. Camped, in a tent, while on my period, for three days through an ice storm. It's a great way to get an entire state park all to yourself!
2. Got married by Cinderella. Honestly. That was the name of our JP. Cinderella Guevarra.
3. Had sex on top of a ladder truck on the apparatus floor of a fire house. Waaaaaaaay long before Backdraft came out. Hey! I'm a trendsetter! Hint: be very careful of the ax.
4. Took a ride on a Lifeflight helicopter. There's no rule that says I have to actually be able to remember having done any of this stuff.
5. And related to #4, experienced a bolus of morphine. Now, that I remember! Yeeeeeoooow!
6. Drove from the Gulf of Mexico across the spine of the Rocky Mountains through the Yukon to Anchorage, Alaska. And back. In an Explorer. With a man. And after 6 weeks in a truck together, we still liked each other!
7. Learned to swear in three languages. One Germanic, one Romance, and one Slavic.
8. Had three out of three letters ever submitted to "Letters to the Editor" for a major U.S. newspaper published. I was ridiculously proud each time.
9. Had sex on a boat on Lake Powell. In the daylight. And not one of those big, private houseboats, either.
#10 is a tie. My choice was:
10. Rode in an elevator with my mother's ashes in a box tucked under my arm while the other people in the elevator chatted about where to have lunch. When my mother passed away, she donated her body to the local medical school for study because she suffered from a rare blood disorder. A year later when they were through with her I had to go pick up her ashes. That elevator ride was one of the most surreal experiences of my life.
However, the Husband suggested this one and it is totally his:
10: Bought the scariest mixed media painting ever created. We have this "beyond hate it" rule in our relationship. If one of us has something and the other person dislikes it SOOOOOO MUCH that they just can't compromise, they declare that they "beyond hate it" and the person who has the thing must agree not to push it on the hater. This particular painting has been relegated to my workroom. It is the only thing I've ever brought into the house that Husband has declared Beyond Hate. I must say I disagree with him - I really love her. You decide:
1. Camped, in a tent, while on my period, for three days through an ice storm. It's a great way to get an entire state park all to yourself!
2. Got married by Cinderella. Honestly. That was the name of our JP. Cinderella Guevarra.
3. Had sex on top of a ladder truck on the apparatus floor of a fire house. Waaaaaaaay long before Backdraft came out. Hey! I'm a trendsetter! Hint: be very careful of the ax.
4. Took a ride on a Lifeflight helicopter. There's no rule that says I have to actually be able to remember having done any of this stuff.
5. And related to #4, experienced a bolus of morphine. Now, that I remember! Yeeeeeoooow!
6. Drove from the Gulf of Mexico across the spine of the Rocky Mountains through the Yukon to Anchorage, Alaska. And back. In an Explorer. With a man. And after 6 weeks in a truck together, we still liked each other!
7. Learned to swear in three languages. One Germanic, one Romance, and one Slavic.
8. Had three out of three letters ever submitted to "Letters to the Editor" for a major U.S. newspaper published. I was ridiculously proud each time.
9. Had sex on a boat on Lake Powell. In the daylight. And not one of those big, private houseboats, either.
#10 is a tie. My choice was:
10. Rode in an elevator with my mother's ashes in a box tucked under my arm while the other people in the elevator chatted about where to have lunch. When my mother passed away, she donated her body to the local medical school for study because she suffered from a rare blood disorder. A year later when they were through with her I had to go pick up her ashes. That elevator ride was one of the most surreal experiences of my life.
However, the Husband suggested this one and it is totally his:
10: Bought the scariest mixed media painting ever created. We have this "beyond hate it" rule in our relationship. If one of us has something and the other person dislikes it SOOOOOO MUCH that they just can't compromise, they declare that they "beyond hate it" and the person who has the thing must agree not to push it on the hater. This particular painting has been relegated to my workroom. It is the only thing I've ever brought into the house that Husband has declared Beyond Hate. I must say I disagree with him - I really love her. You decide:
Labels: bloggers, husband, personal urban drama
Sunday, March 28, 2004
Something I'm a little bit bummed about.
Maggie at Mightygirl writes what I think may be one of the best blogs I've seen. She posted recently that she's finally come up with her first piece of blog merchandise. It's a t-shirt and I thought oh that's cool it will be original and funny and I might even buy one.
Then I saw it. On the front it says "I fuck like a girl" and on the back it says "Mightygirl".
My first problem with this is - Maggie - what the fuck? You made a t-shirt that the vast majority of people wouldn't wear in public because even though we don't think there's anything wrong with the word fuck, we don't want to be standing in line at Kroger's and hear the 5 year old little pixie ask her mother "Mom - what's that word on that lady's shirt - fuck - mean?" And Maggie - I bet YOU wouldn't want to hear that, either.
My next problem with the shirt is, well, Maggie. She's freaking brilliant! Her comic sense is priceless! Her writing style is delightful! Her insights are sometimes stunning! Her observational perspective is cutting! She is original and witty and delightful! She could have done SO MUCH BETTER!
My biggest problem with the shirt, though, is that well - I just don't get it! Am I dense? Am I too old*? Am I too uncool? Am I too Un-California**? I just don't get the point. Damned it.
*Fuck you.
**Thank God.
Maggie at Mightygirl writes what I think may be one of the best blogs I've seen. She posted recently that she's finally come up with her first piece of blog merchandise. It's a t-shirt and I thought oh that's cool it will be original and funny and I might even buy one.
Then I saw it. On the front it says "I fuck like a girl" and on the back it says "Mightygirl".
My first problem with this is - Maggie - what the fuck? You made a t-shirt that the vast majority of people wouldn't wear in public because even though we don't think there's anything wrong with the word fuck, we don't want to be standing in line at Kroger's and hear the 5 year old little pixie ask her mother "Mom - what's that word on that lady's shirt - fuck - mean?" And Maggie - I bet YOU wouldn't want to hear that, either.
My next problem with the shirt is, well, Maggie. She's freaking brilliant! Her comic sense is priceless! Her writing style is delightful! Her insights are sometimes stunning! Her observational perspective is cutting! She is original and witty and delightful! She could have done SO MUCH BETTER!
My biggest problem with the shirt, though, is that well - I just don't get it! Am I dense? Am I too old*? Am I too uncool? Am I too Un-California**? I just don't get the point. Damned it.
*Fuck you.
**Thank God.
Labels: bloggers
Saturday, March 27, 2004
One of my favorite blogs to read specializes in analysis of the scariest stuff you've ever seen a bride stuffed into. Normally you might not think that "What kind of animal is nesting on her arm?" would be a question that would come immediately to mind when looking at wedding dresses but....
Labels: bloggers
