I just paid $32 for information and a start up kit for something having to do with getting paid $2 per envelope. I have no idea what this means I will actually be doing. I know that this probably means it's a scam, but I need something to fill my evening after the kids go to bed. I need income. And I need some reason to feel the way I feel. Which is to say I feel like I have no control any more. I live in somebody else's house with their routines, their schedules, their lifestyle. I didn't have much of a lifestyle before I moved in, but it was my own choice. Now when I lay on the couch watching TV while my MIL puts away groceries, or sweeps the floor, I feel guilty. When I take the kids out in the morning, and I want to come home early because their having a rough time, I feel guilty for interrupting everyone else's quiet time. When my kids want to stay out longer, I feel guilty because someone at home is holding off on a project they want the kids to help with. If I don't want to take the kids anywhere because we all feel a bit lazy, I feel guilty because I'm not allowing the rest of the family their quiet time to do what hey want to do.
Part of this comes from the fact that my MIL and FIL don't like to hear the kids cry, and they cry to get what they want. Before we all moved in, they didn't cry much, because they knew they wouldn't get what they wanted anyway. Now, they know that someone will cave and come play with them, so they make a fuss. I don't think that my MIL is doing them any harm not developmentally, definitely not physically, and really not even emotionally. It's just not how I would do it. So it makes me crazy. For example, at dinner we all sit down together and eat. I sit as far from the children as possible, and allow mom-mom to sit between them. She plays games with them to get them to eat. She makes up stories about dump trucks, and plays a bit of reverse-psychology telling my 3 year old he 'better not' eat whatever it is she wants him to eat. That's how it is now. Before we moved here? We all sat down to eat, and it went parent, child, parent, child around a circular table. I gave each child a plate of food that I expected them to eat. I gave them plenty of time, and I reminded them to eat a few times each meal. After the appropriate amount of time had passed, I took their plate from them, and they got no more until tomorrow.
Does it make a difference? Do they eat any better for them or me? No. They eat about the same. Is my sanity still together? Yes, because I have no part of it. I was having a conversation with a cousin about it, and she had made the comment that Lucian must hate having 4 adults telling him to eat his dinner, and I told her that I just stay out of it, because it would drive me crazy otherwise.
My MIL, who claims she can't hear my voice too well, overheard this conversation, and threw a fit claiming that she would back off and the kids could sit near me. The problem is, she felt like I was not happy with how she did it, and I wanted the job back. But that's not the case. a) I do not believe for a moment that she would indeed back off. b) I don't care how it's done, as long as they eat.
So. Here I am with no control. Because, if I took the kids back to my side of the table, I'd still have her trying to make dinner fun for them, and now I would just be surrounded by loud children while I'm trying to eat my dinner.
I have decided to take back control where I can. If I can earn some extra money, I will not feel guilty spending it on doing some things for myself. And I will be able to show what I am useful for. Also, if I am sitting on the couch watching TV and doing something with envelopes I will not feel guilty that I'm not helping put the groceries away.
Also? I am going to check out the local colleges and try to get a degree in psychology. I want to be a therapist, and I think that now is the time to pursue it. I have free daycare as it stands right now, and I'm young enough to be able to begin a career and have it go somewhere.
So, I'll keep you posted on how both of these endeavors are going.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I need a new playgroup...
Today, Val was sick, so we left him home with Pop-pop and headed out to our usual Wednesday playgroup. Now the group is advertised as being for mobile babies to 5 years old. Both of my children fit squarely into this category, so I thought that it would be fun for them for several years. I thought I wouldn't need to look elsewhere, maybe ever because one they're 5 years old, they'll be in school, and won't have time for morning playgroups anymore. But lately, it's been mostly 1 - 1 1/2 year old kids and they're just too small for Lucian to play with. Also, they're too small for Lucian to play around. He likes to ride all the bikes, and prefers to crash into other kids. He knows better than to purposely crash into the smaller kids, but sometimes they wander into his way before he can maneuver around them. And then the other moms get mad at him. And though I spend the morning yelling his name from across the gymnasium, they never come to me, they yell at him, instead. It irritates me, but I know that not everyone can handle adult confrontation the way I do, so I just make sure that I reinforce what the other mom told him, so he learns that anyone taller that him is an authority that needs to be respected and listened to. I figure this is good for school. (I realize this also sets him up for kidnapping, but I really don't let the kid out of my sight, even at playgroup)
Today, somebody did work up the nerve to tell me that my kid was making her nervous. I apologized, assured her that he was pretty good on the bike, and that I would try to keep a better eye on him. She assured me that her twin boys would bite him, if they felt threatened. I said I was sure they wouldn't have to go that route. But, the truth of the matter is, he is too old for that play group. He's too old for all of them. He's a three year old boy who plays better with 4 and 5 year olds that kids his own age. And moms with older children obviously run in different circles. I am looking for those circles.
Do you have older preschoolers? Where do you hang out? Do you think I should separate the groups I take my older kid to from the ones I take my younger kid to?
Today, somebody did work up the nerve to tell me that my kid was making her nervous. I apologized, assured her that he was pretty good on the bike, and that I would try to keep a better eye on him. She assured me that her twin boys would bite him, if they felt threatened. I said I was sure they wouldn't have to go that route. But, the truth of the matter is, he is too old for that play group. He's too old for all of them. He's a three year old boy who plays better with 4 and 5 year olds that kids his own age. And moms with older children obviously run in different circles. I am looking for those circles.
Do you have older preschoolers? Where do you hang out? Do you think I should separate the groups I take my older kid to from the ones I take my younger kid to?
Saturday, November 15, 2008
And now, a fluff piece.
Ok, I don't like to have stuff that's too heavy up for long. And I don't get to blog very often. So, I'm just going to tell a story or two that doesn't mean anything, but hopefully will be entertaining.
Story one: As you may know, Pete and I have entered a new living arrangement that doesn't really allow for financial freedom. What you may not know, is that Pete and I often role-play in the bedroom. When one or the other of us is having a bad day, Pete will often send me out to the local exotic clothing store to pick out an outfit or toy. Sometimes, he sees an outfit or toy on the Internet, and buys it, hoping I will be up for wearing it on the day it arrives. There are a few in my closet I still haven't worn.
So the other day when he told me that he bought me a present, I was surprised. I couldn't imagine what he thought we could afford, or when he thought I would be able to put it to any use since we now live with his parents. I don't usually try to guess about surprises or gifts. You'll never find me under the Christmas tree shaking boxes. I do, however like to what day it will arrive. So I said,
"How soon will it arrive?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure we'll even get it. The website seemed a little shady."
"Well, yeah..."
"It's not what you think. It's just that I can't imagine that this product would have a whole website dedicated to just it."
"Is it toe socks*? Because I could totally imagine a whole website dedicated to toe socks. different lengths, colors, themes, specialties like having a name or phrase embroidered on..."
"What would make you say toe socks?"
"I don't know, I was just thinking of things that might be silly to dedicate a website to."
"..."
"Why? Is it..."
"It's freaking TOE SOCKS! How could you guess toe socks? Did you read my email?"
That was when he started to get mad. I'm thrilled. I know that winter in Florida is kind of mild, but toe socks would be just the thing to keep me warm. I still don't know how I guessed, and neither does he. I don't check his email, I don't remember the password to our bank account, and he didn't tell anyone that he had bought them. I guess we're just actually perfect for each other, reading each other's minds and all.
*toe socks are socks that fit like gloves encasing each toe.
Story Two: So, I spent my life from the age of 12 to 27 living in South Jersey. For those of you not familiar with that area, it's in New Jersey, and it starts when you think of Philadelphia as the closest City, rather than New York. I moved around a lot, but the culture doesn't change too drastically from town to town. We're all trying to be Philly folk. A lot of boisterous attitude, a desire to "take care of our own, first," and no problems making our opinions known.
The other day, I was at a park with my two kids. Valentino, my 1 year old, mostly stays near me at the toddler jungle gym, climbing the steps, and falling down the slide. Lucian, the 3 year old, on the other hand, runs all over the park making friends, begging for food, and trying to join in everybody's fun. Often the other mom's at the park remember me from the week before as the mom standing atop the jungle gym yelling across the park at Lucian. It often sounds like this,
"LUCIAN! NO YOU CANNOT RIDE THAT BOYS BIKE! PLAY ON THE SLIDES!"
"LUCIAN! LEAVE THOSE PEOPLE ALONE! I HAVE SNACKS FOR YOU IN THE STROLLER!"
"LUCIAN! TAKE TURNS!"
I'm not proud. I'm not ashamed, either. It's just who I am.
So this time, I'm doing my normal routine, and in runs a little brown curly haired boy. He's cute, and out of breath, and I can't help but talk to the other kids on the playground. I also encourage Lucian to do the same. So I say something or other to the boy, when Lucian cuts in; "Excuse me boy, but my name's Lucian. What's yours?"
The boy says nothing, makes his hands like Spiderman about to sling some web, and makes a "FSSSSTT" sound, and runs away. I smile at Lucian, and said, "He must be Spiderman, why don't you go tell him you're Superman." And off my child runs.
Now, I had brought cups of water for the boys, and since Val's been sick, I was careful of his cup and whose little hands it might be in. In walks Spiderman, who grabs Val's cup, and his mother is... elsewhere.
Me: "Oh, no,no,no we don't share cups."
Spiderman: *Throws sippy cup at me* "Fucking Bitch!" *runs away*
Spiderman's Mom: *walks over* "No, no. We don't throw things." "..." "Oh, we don't say those things, either." *walks away*
I was flabbergasted! I was speechless! I was unable to comprehend what had happened, or my role in it. I went back to playing with Val.
The longer I played, the more I was getting angrier and angrier. How dare this punk kid say something like that to me! What kind of mother would just calmly wave that behaviour off? Why didn't she at least apologize to me that her kid just cussed me out?
Eventually, the boy was on the swings. These swings are the Special Needs swings. They're made for kids who have CP or some other condition that would make it difficult for them to ride the regular swings. But when there are no special needs children about, they are the kids' favorite swings, because they're different, you understand? Lucian sees the boy and asks if he can ride the swings with Spiderman.
I told him no. I told him in front of the boy's mother that because he used words that in our family only grown-ups use, I didn't think it was appropriate for him to play with him. (Yes, I use big words with my son. He seems to understand them) I told him he could take a turn on the swings when the boy was done. When it finally was his turn on the swings, Valentino joined us and as I pushed both of my boys on swings, I told Lucian to not play with Spiderman, and that if Spiderman said or did anything that made him feel uncomfortable, he should hit him as hard as he can. I don't know if you agree with what I told my child. But the fact of the matter is, my boy is kinda... um... weak. He melts down if a kid doesn't want to play with him, or says something mean to him. And I don't want him to be that way. I also don't want him to grow up to be a bully, but he should feel he has a right to defend himself if someone makes him feel uncomfortable.
Of course, I would rather it didn't come to that at all, so I steered my children over to play with a set of twins that we sort of know from play groups and playgrounds. I was enjoying the type of conversation you have with a stranger you have only one thing in common with. Polite, with some humor, and some comiserating. I look up to check on the kids, and Spiderman has filled his mouth with water from the drinking fountain and is spitting on the twins. The twins start to melt down because they were told to play carefully as they were going to Grandma's afterwards, and Mommy didn't want them to be a mess.
And Spiderman's mom?
Is sitting quietly off to one side, and practically whispering, "...that's not nice..."
I had had it. I don't have a long fuse. I marched over to that woman and told her that I felt it was time she take her kid elsewhere. At this point I think I should tell you, this woman, and her son were brown. I don't know what shade of brown. I wouldn't be able to guess at whether hispanic, or middle-eastern, or some other cukture I'm unaware of. I hadn't spent a lot of time trying to figure it out, and it was irrelevant to me until the next thing she said to me*:
"No. No. This is a free country, and my people have been discriminated against long enough. I have a right to be here, and so does my son."
"What? Yes it's a free country, yes you have a right to be here, but I have a right to have a place where my kids can play without fear of being bullied by other kids! I think, after seeing his behaviour that yor kid maybe needs a time out. Tell him that if he can't play nice, he isn't going to be able to find kids to play with!"
"Well, he needs time to run it out and get his energy out."
"Maybe. But not at the expense of my kids' safety. You should know that I told my son that if your son makes him uncomfortable, he should hit him as hard as he can."
"Good. I hope he does. He needs to learn he cannot treat people that way. Hopefully your son straightens him out. (I just gave her a blank look of surprise) You can hit him too. He deserves it. He needs it."
"What?! I would never hit someone else's child! I'll tell you what, though. Your kid does anything to me or my kids, I'll march over here and punch you in the eye! I can't even believe that you would suggest to someone that they should hit your child! Maybe, instead of hitting, a simple time out. Something more than a weak 'No, no,' is in order here. Surely you see that?"
*These are not verbatim, it has been too many days for me to remember the actual words said, and in fact somewhere in here I did say something about it not being right that her kid be allowed to "terrorize the other children at the park."
While I was doing all this, her kid was sneaking up on my one year old. Just as I was about to give her discipline tactics from my parenting classes, he pushed Val off a ledge and into the mulch. I can't say how high the ledge is, but it's marginally higher than a curb on the street. I ran to pick up my crying baby, and contimplated how well I'd do in a fight with a baby in my arms, but decided it was time to leave.
As I walked out of the park, calmly telling Lucian that no, we were not leaving because of the "bad Spiderman," but because Valentino needed a nap, the other mom's in the park were saying, "Shame on you, calling that woman a terrorist."
Spiderman and his mother hurt my sense of decency, because I could never imagine letting my kids get away with that kind of poor behaviour, nor would I feel comfortable in public if they did. The other mom's who assumed I was upset at the mom because she was brown hurt my pride. I know that as a Republican, many people view me as a close-minded, puritan, conformist who wants to rid the world of the not-white people. But it's not true. On most, if not all, social issues, I fall pretty far left. And I have never been labeled a racist or a biggot (well, one time when I was 12, but it was a misunderstanding). Honestly, I think those other moms were the biggots to assume that it was her skin color that was the problem. Or that simply because of her skin color she was incapable of raising her son to be a decent person. I'm still distressed about that. It bothers me when I run into people like that. I feel like I'm living in times before Civil Rights, when people thought, and said aloud that they felt sorry for the blacks because they were too stupid to find real jobs.
It's just crazy. And, as always, feel free to tell me I'm dead wrong. Tell me I shouldn't yell at other moms about how their children behave, or that by using the word "terrorize" I'm making this world worse, or whatever. I never said I'm perfect.
P.S. I wrote this post for like 3 days, so if it sucks, I blame my famdamnily for asking me to eat meals, sleep, and go play.
Story one: As you may know, Pete and I have entered a new living arrangement that doesn't really allow for financial freedom. What you may not know, is that Pete and I often role-play in the bedroom. When one or the other of us is having a bad day, Pete will often send me out to the local exotic clothing store to pick out an outfit or toy. Sometimes, he sees an outfit or toy on the Internet, and buys it, hoping I will be up for wearing it on the day it arrives. There are a few in my closet I still haven't worn.
So the other day when he told me that he bought me a present, I was surprised. I couldn't imagine what he thought we could afford, or when he thought I would be able to put it to any use since we now live with his parents. I don't usually try to guess about surprises or gifts. You'll never find me under the Christmas tree shaking boxes. I do, however like to what day it will arrive. So I said,
"How soon will it arrive?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure we'll even get it. The website seemed a little shady."
"Well, yeah..."
"It's not what you think. It's just that I can't imagine that this product would have a whole website dedicated to just it."
"Is it toe socks*? Because I could totally imagine a whole website dedicated to toe socks. different lengths, colors, themes, specialties like having a name or phrase embroidered on..."
"What would make you say toe socks?"
"I don't know, I was just thinking of things that might be silly to dedicate a website to."
"..."
"Why? Is it..."
"It's freaking TOE SOCKS! How could you guess toe socks? Did you read my email?"
That was when he started to get mad. I'm thrilled. I know that winter in Florida is kind of mild, but toe socks would be just the thing to keep me warm. I still don't know how I guessed, and neither does he. I don't check his email, I don't remember the password to our bank account, and he didn't tell anyone that he had bought them. I guess we're just actually perfect for each other, reading each other's minds and all.
*toe socks are socks that fit like gloves encasing each toe.
Story Two: So, I spent my life from the age of 12 to 27 living in South Jersey. For those of you not familiar with that area, it's in New Jersey, and it starts when you think of Philadelphia as the closest City, rather than New York. I moved around a lot, but the culture doesn't change too drastically from town to town. We're all trying to be Philly folk. A lot of boisterous attitude, a desire to "take care of our own, first," and no problems making our opinions known.
The other day, I was at a park with my two kids. Valentino, my 1 year old, mostly stays near me at the toddler jungle gym, climbing the steps, and falling down the slide. Lucian, the 3 year old, on the other hand, runs all over the park making friends, begging for food, and trying to join in everybody's fun. Often the other mom's at the park remember me from the week before as the mom standing atop the jungle gym yelling across the park at Lucian. It often sounds like this,
"LUCIAN! NO YOU CANNOT RIDE THAT BOYS BIKE! PLAY ON THE SLIDES!"
"LUCIAN! LEAVE THOSE PEOPLE ALONE! I HAVE SNACKS FOR YOU IN THE STROLLER!"
"LUCIAN! TAKE TURNS!"
I'm not proud. I'm not ashamed, either. It's just who I am.
So this time, I'm doing my normal routine, and in runs a little brown curly haired boy. He's cute, and out of breath, and I can't help but talk to the other kids on the playground. I also encourage Lucian to do the same. So I say something or other to the boy, when Lucian cuts in; "Excuse me boy, but my name's Lucian. What's yours?"
The boy says nothing, makes his hands like Spiderman about to sling some web, and makes a "FSSSSTT" sound, and runs away. I smile at Lucian, and said, "He must be Spiderman, why don't you go tell him you're Superman." And off my child runs.
Now, I had brought cups of water for the boys, and since Val's been sick, I was careful of his cup and whose little hands it might be in. In walks Spiderman, who grabs Val's cup, and his mother is... elsewhere.
Me: "Oh, no,no,no we don't share cups."
Spiderman: *Throws sippy cup at me* "Fucking Bitch!" *runs away*
Spiderman's Mom: *walks over* "No, no. We don't throw things." "..." "Oh, we don't say those things, either." *walks away*
I was flabbergasted! I was speechless! I was unable to comprehend what had happened, or my role in it. I went back to playing with Val.
The longer I played, the more I was getting angrier and angrier. How dare this punk kid say something like that to me! What kind of mother would just calmly wave that behaviour off? Why didn't she at least apologize to me that her kid just cussed me out?
Eventually, the boy was on the swings. These swings are the Special Needs swings. They're made for kids who have CP or some other condition that would make it difficult for them to ride the regular swings. But when there are no special needs children about, they are the kids' favorite swings, because they're different, you understand? Lucian sees the boy and asks if he can ride the swings with Spiderman.
I told him no. I told him in front of the boy's mother that because he used words that in our family only grown-ups use, I didn't think it was appropriate for him to play with him. (Yes, I use big words with my son. He seems to understand them) I told him he could take a turn on the swings when the boy was done. When it finally was his turn on the swings, Valentino joined us and as I pushed both of my boys on swings, I told Lucian to not play with Spiderman, and that if Spiderman said or did anything that made him feel uncomfortable, he should hit him as hard as he can. I don't know if you agree with what I told my child. But the fact of the matter is, my boy is kinda... um... weak. He melts down if a kid doesn't want to play with him, or says something mean to him. And I don't want him to be that way. I also don't want him to grow up to be a bully, but he should feel he has a right to defend himself if someone makes him feel uncomfortable.
Of course, I would rather it didn't come to that at all, so I steered my children over to play with a set of twins that we sort of know from play groups and playgrounds. I was enjoying the type of conversation you have with a stranger you have only one thing in common with. Polite, with some humor, and some comiserating. I look up to check on the kids, and Spiderman has filled his mouth with water from the drinking fountain and is spitting on the twins. The twins start to melt down because they were told to play carefully as they were going to Grandma's afterwards, and Mommy didn't want them to be a mess.
And Spiderman's mom?
Is sitting quietly off to one side, and practically whispering, "...that's not nice..."
I had had it. I don't have a long fuse. I marched over to that woman and told her that I felt it was time she take her kid elsewhere. At this point I think I should tell you, this woman, and her son were brown. I don't know what shade of brown. I wouldn't be able to guess at whether hispanic, or middle-eastern, or some other cukture I'm unaware of. I hadn't spent a lot of time trying to figure it out, and it was irrelevant to me until the next thing she said to me*:
"No. No. This is a free country, and my people have been discriminated against long enough. I have a right to be here, and so does my son."
"What? Yes it's a free country, yes you have a right to be here, but I have a right to have a place where my kids can play without fear of being bullied by other kids! I think, after seeing his behaviour that yor kid maybe needs a time out. Tell him that if he can't play nice, he isn't going to be able to find kids to play with!"
"Well, he needs time to run it out and get his energy out."
"Maybe. But not at the expense of my kids' safety. You should know that I told my son that if your son makes him uncomfortable, he should hit him as hard as he can."
"Good. I hope he does. He needs to learn he cannot treat people that way. Hopefully your son straightens him out. (I just gave her a blank look of surprise) You can hit him too. He deserves it. He needs it."
"What?! I would never hit someone else's child! I'll tell you what, though. Your kid does anything to me or my kids, I'll march over here and punch you in the eye! I can't even believe that you would suggest to someone that they should hit your child! Maybe, instead of hitting, a simple time out. Something more than a weak 'No, no,' is in order here. Surely you see that?"
*These are not verbatim, it has been too many days for me to remember the actual words said, and in fact somewhere in here I did say something about it not being right that her kid be allowed to "terrorize the other children at the park."
While I was doing all this, her kid was sneaking up on my one year old. Just as I was about to give her discipline tactics from my parenting classes, he pushed Val off a ledge and into the mulch. I can't say how high the ledge is, but it's marginally higher than a curb on the street. I ran to pick up my crying baby, and contimplated how well I'd do in a fight with a baby in my arms, but decided it was time to leave.
As I walked out of the park, calmly telling Lucian that no, we were not leaving because of the "bad Spiderman," but because Valentino needed a nap, the other mom's in the park were saying, "Shame on you, calling that woman a terrorist."
Spiderman and his mother hurt my sense of decency, because I could never imagine letting my kids get away with that kind of poor behaviour, nor would I feel comfortable in public if they did. The other mom's who assumed I was upset at the mom because she was brown hurt my pride. I know that as a Republican, many people view me as a close-minded, puritan, conformist who wants to rid the world of the not-white people. But it's not true. On most, if not all, social issues, I fall pretty far left. And I have never been labeled a racist or a biggot (well, one time when I was 12, but it was a misunderstanding). Honestly, I think those other moms were the biggots to assume that it was her skin color that was the problem. Or that simply because of her skin color she was incapable of raising her son to be a decent person. I'm still distressed about that. It bothers me when I run into people like that. I feel like I'm living in times before Civil Rights, when people thought, and said aloud that they felt sorry for the blacks because they were too stupid to find real jobs.
It's just crazy. And, as always, feel free to tell me I'm dead wrong. Tell me I shouldn't yell at other moms about how their children behave, or that by using the word "terrorize" I'm making this world worse, or whatever. I never said I'm perfect.
P.S. I wrote this post for like 3 days, so if it sucks, I blame my famdamnily for asking me to eat meals, sleep, and go play.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
"They're born that way"
I have lately discovered that I am not a very tolerant person. I am not tolerant of people who dismiss me because my opinion differs from theirs. (This is not to anybody in my blogosphere... it's someone I know personally) I am not tolerant of laziness - unless it's my own, because I never ask anybody else to take care of my responsibilities, I simply accept that due to my laziness, I may have to sleep on not so fresh sheets. I have no tolerance for whining. Nobody in my life has ever gotten anything from me by whining about it.
But where it really shows, is that I have absolutely zero tolerance for pedophiles. I think they should be killed upon discovery. They cannot be rehabilitated because they are not showing a learned behaviour. And you can make the argument that often times they are victims of childhood abuse, but I say that if we start killing them off now, then we will not have to worry about 'continuing the cycle.' I think anybody who molests a child, in any way, should be shot immediately following their trial.
The fact is, that pedophiles are born with the same type of(chemical?) imbalance that gay people are. Gays don't choose to be gay. They don't wake up one morning and think I'd rather stop living this normal life, and start living a life that I have to keep hidden in order to be fully welcomed and accepted by everybody. No, from early childhood they are 'different.' I remember in kindergarten that there were girls I wanted to hang around with because they were so pretty. I wished I could cuddle and snuggle with them. I also remember knowing that I couldn't tell anybody I felt that way because it was not an acceptable way to feel. I knew that I could tell my folks about the boys I thought were cute, but I could never tell them I thought girls were cute, too. As an adult, I still don't tell everybody I know that I find women attractive.
Pedophiles aren't gay... necessarily. They are attracted to children. Since I am not a pedophile, I do not know what it is they find attractive about children. Maybe it's their innocence. Maybe it's the angelic/cherubic faces. Maybe it's that they are weak. Maybe it's something else entirely that I haven't thought of. What I do know, is that it's a crime to have sex, or any type of sexual relations with a child. Fortunately, I have the law on my side. The law also says it's a crime, but even if it didn't, *I* would know that it's a crime. It changes a person. Even if they try not to show it, or they themselves don't notice the change, it changes them. It changes the way they perceive themselves. It changes the way the look at others. It destroys their sense of trust. And, it changes how they view sex.
Sex should be wonderful. It should be comfortable, and orgasmic, and fun. If you are only comfortable having sex in the dark, but you DO enjoy it, you are normal. If you enjoy sex in the daylight, or in the car in the parking lot, in the rear, or in the mouth, you are normal. If sex makes you feel dirty, guilty, ashamed, lonely, or any other negative emotion, you are not normal. And this is just one result of the crime of sexual relations with children. There are many, many, many results of the crime of sexual relations with children. Some are big noticeable results: criminal behaviour, depression, suicide, becoming abusers. Others are not so noticeable: slutty behaviour, quiet/shy behaviour, anger issues, self-esteem issues. These latter are so unnoticeable because they are 'normal' behaviours for some people.
I think that the Megan's Law that was instituted in 1996 is a start, but it is waaaaay too lenient. It only ensures that sex offenders (pedophiles) have to register where they live. And that when you move into a new neighborhood, you can do the research to find out if they live nearby. But this is not enough. I don't want to know that my neighbor down the street might lure my children into his home if I don't keep a close enough eye. At this age (1 and 3) I am with them every second of the day. what about when they're 8 and want to ride their bike around the development? To their friend's house? How do I relax, knowing that a person is lurking around watching them and thinking about how to destroy their lives most fully?
I have ties to someone on Megan's Law, and I used to know another. I believed their stories about how they were falsely accused. I let it roll off my back the same as if they had told me that in high school they were band geeks and nobody wanted to be their friend. Then, as I got to know them better, I realized these were sick people. People that I wouldn't want around my kids, or any kids at all. The more I got to know them, the more I wish it was legal for me to shoot them, in order to ensure the protection of future children, and their families. And you can talk about compulsion control, or whatever the phrase is, that if we "rehab" these sex offenders, that just because what they want is a crime, it does not mean that they will act on it. But I call bullshit. If that were the case, we wouldn't have a problem with "repeat" sex offenders. The person in my life that is on the Megan's Law list, allegedly molested a 13 year old girl. Since he was put on Megan's Law, he has slept with 17 year olds, a few 20-somethings, and his wife - who is chubby and cherubic looking. He is a sick pup. He is 39 years old, and he has several children with several women, and he has been fired from job after job for sexual harassment. He cheats on his wife with a girl he's been sleeping with since she was 17 (she's 19, now) and he makes no apologies. He thinks that as soon as a girl is old enough to "get the tingle between her legs" she is old enough to want to be seduced by him.
I think that 12 years ago when he was put on Megan's Law, he should have been carried out of the courtroom, and shot. I do not think that any of his seemingly redeeming qualities are worth his shortfalls. He and others like him need to be wiped from the earth. What's worse? He knows that it's a mutation that makes him find children attractive, and when I told him that he should have been killed, along with every other pedophile in the world, he claimed that I would be killing Wolverine, Jean Grey, Cyclops, and the rest of the X-Men.
I'm so full of anger and hate towards him, and others like him. I don't think that any of them should be allowed to live. In my opinion ....
Gah! I've been writing this for over an hour. I can't continue any longer, my kids gotta eat.
Feel free to tell me that I'm an ass, and should value life more. I do value life. I don't value their lives.
But where it really shows, is that I have absolutely zero tolerance for pedophiles. I think they should be killed upon discovery. They cannot be rehabilitated because they are not showing a learned behaviour. And you can make the argument that often times they are victims of childhood abuse, but I say that if we start killing them off now, then we will not have to worry about 'continuing the cycle.' I think anybody who molests a child, in any way, should be shot immediately following their trial.
The fact is, that pedophiles are born with the same type of(chemical?) imbalance that gay people are. Gays don't choose to be gay. They don't wake up one morning and think I'd rather stop living this normal life, and start living a life that I have to keep hidden in order to be fully welcomed and accepted by everybody. No, from early childhood they are 'different.' I remember in kindergarten that there were girls I wanted to hang around with because they were so pretty. I wished I could cuddle and snuggle with them. I also remember knowing that I couldn't tell anybody I felt that way because it was not an acceptable way to feel. I knew that I could tell my folks about the boys I thought were cute, but I could never tell them I thought girls were cute, too. As an adult, I still don't tell everybody I know that I find women attractive.
Pedophiles aren't gay... necessarily. They are attracted to children. Since I am not a pedophile, I do not know what it is they find attractive about children. Maybe it's their innocence. Maybe it's the angelic/cherubic faces. Maybe it's that they are weak. Maybe it's something else entirely that I haven't thought of. What I do know, is that it's a crime to have sex, or any type of sexual relations with a child. Fortunately, I have the law on my side. The law also says it's a crime, but even if it didn't, *I* would know that it's a crime. It changes a person. Even if they try not to show it, or they themselves don't notice the change, it changes them. It changes the way they perceive themselves. It changes the way the look at others. It destroys their sense of trust. And, it changes how they view sex.
Sex should be wonderful. It should be comfortable, and orgasmic, and fun. If you are only comfortable having sex in the dark, but you DO enjoy it, you are normal. If you enjoy sex in the daylight, or in the car in the parking lot, in the rear, or in the mouth, you are normal. If sex makes you feel dirty, guilty, ashamed, lonely, or any other negative emotion, you are not normal. And this is just one result of the crime of sexual relations with children. There are many, many, many results of the crime of sexual relations with children. Some are big noticeable results: criminal behaviour, depression, suicide, becoming abusers. Others are not so noticeable: slutty behaviour, quiet/shy behaviour, anger issues, self-esteem issues. These latter are so unnoticeable because they are 'normal' behaviours for some people.
I think that the Megan's Law that was instituted in 1996 is a start, but it is waaaaay too lenient. It only ensures that sex offenders (pedophiles) have to register where they live. And that when you move into a new neighborhood, you can do the research to find out if they live nearby. But this is not enough. I don't want to know that my neighbor down the street might lure my children into his home if I don't keep a close enough eye. At this age (1 and 3) I am with them every second of the day. what about when they're 8 and want to ride their bike around the development? To their friend's house? How do I relax, knowing that a person is lurking around watching them and thinking about how to destroy their lives most fully?
I have ties to someone on Megan's Law, and I used to know another. I believed their stories about how they were falsely accused. I let it roll off my back the same as if they had told me that in high school they were band geeks and nobody wanted to be their friend. Then, as I got to know them better, I realized these were sick people. People that I wouldn't want around my kids, or any kids at all. The more I got to know them, the more I wish it was legal for me to shoot them, in order to ensure the protection of future children, and their families. And you can talk about compulsion control, or whatever the phrase is, that if we "rehab" these sex offenders, that just because what they want is a crime, it does not mean that they will act on it. But I call bullshit. If that were the case, we wouldn't have a problem with "repeat" sex offenders. The person in my life that is on the Megan's Law list, allegedly molested a 13 year old girl. Since he was put on Megan's Law, he has slept with 17 year olds, a few 20-somethings, and his wife - who is chubby and cherubic looking. He is a sick pup. He is 39 years old, and he has several children with several women, and he has been fired from job after job for sexual harassment. He cheats on his wife with a girl he's been sleeping with since she was 17 (she's 19, now) and he makes no apologies. He thinks that as soon as a girl is old enough to "get the tingle between her legs" she is old enough to want to be seduced by him.
I think that 12 years ago when he was put on Megan's Law, he should have been carried out of the courtroom, and shot. I do not think that any of his seemingly redeeming qualities are worth his shortfalls. He and others like him need to be wiped from the earth. What's worse? He knows that it's a mutation that makes him find children attractive, and when I told him that he should have been killed, along with every other pedophile in the world, he claimed that I would be killing Wolverine, Jean Grey, Cyclops, and the rest of the X-Men.
I'm so full of anger and hate towards him, and others like him. I don't think that any of them should be allowed to live. In my opinion ....
Gah! I've been writing this for over an hour. I can't continue any longer, my kids gotta eat.
Feel free to tell me that I'm an ass, and should value life more. I do value life. I don't value their lives.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I've been sick
I'm sorry for leaving the Obama-rama post up for so long. I've been sick. And even though I had a whole day of sitting around doing nothing while I recovered, I didn't have time to blog. Being sick makes the day fly by, what with all the naps and all...
I know you hate me because I got to be sick like a person without kids. I sat on the couch and watched period movies. That's period as in they take place in a time period that requires beautiful dresses, and top hats for men, not period like movies I watch while I leak monthly blood. I do have the latter type of movies, but they usually have people like Johnny Depp, or Brad Pitt. But yesterday, I watched When Nietzsche Wept and Elizabeth: The Golden Age. I won't review either of them for you, because I'm not sure I saw all of either since I was in and out of consciousness all day. I thought they were good, though.
Tonight, I'll be going to another parenting class. So far, I feel I haven't learned anything, because well, let's face it, I'm already an awesome mommy. I do routines, I'm consistent, I use "toddler words," which is to say I use concrete nouns. ex. "The truck is in Lucian's hands. You cannot have the truck now." Both of my children know that when a toy is in another's hands they can't have it. Of course for both my boys this translates to if the other kid drops said toy, and my boy can get to it first, it's totally fair to take it. I let this go, because I believe in letting kids fight it out. I completely expect that someday my children will be clobbered for taking toys from the wrong kid. And I will do nothing but kiss the boo-boo when that happens. I let my boys fight amongst themselves for a lot of the time. I only get involved when it gets dangerous. I don't know if that's right, but I do it, anyway. Hopefully tonight's lesson will revolve around what to do when your oldest child is dragging your youngest child by the arm down the hallway, and you have a laptop computer on your lap and all you want is for the oldest to let go of his little brother. Currently, my solution to this problem is to yell, "Lucian! Lucian! Lucian, Stop Dragging Your Brother! Lucian! Lucian, Stop! Lucian!!!!!!" This does not work. Lucian doesn't stop until Val is violently yanked from his hand by the wall he has drug him into.
That is my biggest problem with Lucian.(now) When you try tell him something he doesn't want to hear, he either a) ignores you completely, as if you don't exist, or b) says, "What?" while continuing to do said taboo.
How do you fix that? I'm not above flinging my shoes at the child, but my aim isn't as good as it could be, and in this house there are breakables. I'm at a loss.
There hasn't been much going on new around here. But I have heard talk of patents on nuclear 'batteries' that could power 20,000 homes for 7 years, and the waste, which would only be about the size of a softball, is completely recyclable. I don't know how you feel about this, but I would like to. Also, I don't know how I feel about this. On the one hand, it would cost each household approximately $420 per year (this is a factored number of spreading out the $25,000,000 installation fee) to keep them powered, and it would be contained. So, it's cheap. And after 7 years, they would remove the 'battery' and replace it So, it's contained. And somehow, recyclable. And yet... it's nuclear. I mean I know burning oil is bad for the environment and all, but I have this fear of all things nuclear. I mean I grew up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and various other toxic waste characters. I get a little nervous when I hear the word "nuclear." I dunno. Am I crazy? Does this sound better or worse that our current energy options?
I know you hate me because I got to be sick like a person without kids. I sat on the couch and watched period movies. That's period as in they take place in a time period that requires beautiful dresses, and top hats for men, not period like movies I watch while I leak monthly blood. I do have the latter type of movies, but they usually have people like Johnny Depp, or Brad Pitt. But yesterday, I watched When Nietzsche Wept and Elizabeth: The Golden Age. I won't review either of them for you, because I'm not sure I saw all of either since I was in and out of consciousness all day. I thought they were good, though.
Tonight, I'll be going to another parenting class. So far, I feel I haven't learned anything, because well, let's face it, I'm already an awesome mommy. I do routines, I'm consistent, I use "toddler words," which is to say I use concrete nouns. ex. "The truck is in Lucian's hands. You cannot have the truck now." Both of my children know that when a toy is in another's hands they can't have it. Of course for both my boys this translates to if the other kid drops said toy, and my boy can get to it first, it's totally fair to take it. I let this go, because I believe in letting kids fight it out. I completely expect that someday my children will be clobbered for taking toys from the wrong kid. And I will do nothing but kiss the boo-boo when that happens. I let my boys fight amongst themselves for a lot of the time. I only get involved when it gets dangerous. I don't know if that's right, but I do it, anyway. Hopefully tonight's lesson will revolve around what to do when your oldest child is dragging your youngest child by the arm down the hallway, and you have a laptop computer on your lap and all you want is for the oldest to let go of his little brother. Currently, my solution to this problem is to yell, "Lucian! Lucian! Lucian, Stop Dragging Your Brother! Lucian! Lucian, Stop! Lucian!!!!!!" This does not work. Lucian doesn't stop until Val is violently yanked from his hand by the wall he has drug him into.
That is my biggest problem with Lucian.(now) When you try tell him something he doesn't want to hear, he either a) ignores you completely, as if you don't exist, or b) says, "What?" while continuing to do said taboo.
How do you fix that? I'm not above flinging my shoes at the child, but my aim isn't as good as it could be, and in this house there are breakables. I'm at a loss.
There hasn't been much going on new around here. But I have heard talk of patents on nuclear 'batteries' that could power 20,000 homes for 7 years, and the waste, which would only be about the size of a softball, is completely recyclable. I don't know how you feel about this, but I would like to. Also, I don't know how I feel about this. On the one hand, it would cost each household approximately $420 per year (this is a factored number of spreading out the $25,000,000 installation fee) to keep them powered, and it would be contained. So, it's cheap. And after 7 years, they would remove the 'battery' and replace it So, it's contained. And somehow, recyclable. And yet... it's nuclear. I mean I know burning oil is bad for the environment and all, but I have this fear of all things nuclear. I mean I grew up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and various other toxic waste characters. I get a little nervous when I hear the word "nuclear." I dunno. Am I crazy? Does this sound better or worse that our current energy options?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Let the Obama-rama Begin!
Deep Breath. Sigh.
Barack Obama is our new President elect. Whew. It feels good to not be waiting for the decision anymore. I'm not happy, as anybody who has bothered to pay attention to my comments knows. However, I'm a patriot first, and a democrat-voting-republican second. So, now it's time to support our new President.
He's publicized some good ideas. Ideas that I think will only benefit us in the present, and harm us in the future. Ideas that I think won't come off as advertised. He's got no one to block him in Congress, either, so if it doesn't happen, it means he changed his mind. I hope he will.
It's time for me to be Real. And Specific. But probably not Real Specific. Here's the truth. I am an idealist. I want to clean up the oceans, and revitalize the rain forests. I have organized rallies at colleges to this end. I have written letters to my congressmen, and signed petitions fighting for gay rights. I have had two abortions in my younger days. I never judge people, or a person, based on skin color, nationality, or religion. I have dated black, brown, yellow, and white people. In my family, I have Catholics, Mormons, Protestants, Pagans, Atheists, and well, no actual Muslims, but my Uncle read the Koran. I have lived in a commune, in my car, in an apartment, and in a house. I often get many people who dislike each other to work together, play together, party together, and talk to each other. I am selfish. I think of my family first, and the rest later. Until I had children, I thought of myself first. I am lazy. As I sit here writing this I am avoiding doing actual work. I have avoided writing this post for hours and hours, since I was awake and watching the election last night, and then stayed up talking about it for hours after that. I have already commented on other blogs today, and even now, as I am about to get to my point, I'm going to break for a cigarette.
...
...
OK, my point. My point is, I'm also a realist. I know that at the core no one is uncommonly good, or uncommonly evil. I also know that in mobs people are stupid, aggressive, and self-serving. I know that in order to get to utopia, you must travel down a long road taking baby steps. It is not one leap of faith that brings you to the promised land. I think that even if you continue to ignore all the stories that came out about Obama during his campaign, that he is all ideals, no substance. That he has a lot of plans that make us think that we're suddenly going to live in an ideal world. For instance, the plan to throw billions of dollars at green energy innovations cannot work without getting specific. You can't just tell people that lots of government money will make farming equipment run on corn alcohol. Before I spend money on this research, I would want something solid. I would like to know that first we're going to power the mid-west with wind energy. I want to see cars recycling their exhaust energy. I want to see more vibration energy collectors in train stations, and subways. I see these innovations being a good start, I do not see them being an end to oil consumption. I see a need to make sure that we (the free world including our Allies) continue to receive all the oil we need to run our lives. I feel a need to have a strong man behind the desk, with a steady hand on the button. I do not want to just push the button unnecessarily, or vindictively. But I also do not want to avoid pushing the button because of fear. Or because we can't afford to push it, because we've cut our defense budget.
I hope all goes well. I know we've survived some terrible presidents. I wish I didn't have to look at this term as one to be survived. I wish it could be something that I could rejoice over with apparently more than half of my fellow Americans. I hope in four years, I have seen my doubts, and fears assuaged. I hope that in four years I look back, and can say to myself, "Wow, he really knew what he was doing. I think he needs another four years to finish out his plans." I hope I want to re-elect him.
Here is my promise to our new President: I will be following more closely during the next four years than I did during the last four years. I will be more politically active, not because I'm going to try to shut him down, or because I want to gloat that he's not accomplishing the changes he hoped for, but because I will do everything that I can as a single citizen, as an American to get us to the Utopia he has us all drooling for. If he thinks he can do it, I think he's going to need our help, our support, our action to bring it about. We can't just go back to being lazy and apathetic. Without our continuing to stand together as so many of us did at campaign rallies and other events, he can't do it. He can't do it alone.
We've used our voice. We've decided what we want for our future. Now it's time to put our backs into it, and help him make it all happen.
I hope I didn't confuse you. It's hard for me to stay focused on my blog while trying to care for this damn household.
Barack Obama is our new President elect. Whew. It feels good to not be waiting for the decision anymore. I'm not happy, as anybody who has bothered to pay attention to my comments knows. However, I'm a patriot first, and a democrat-voting-republican second. So, now it's time to support our new President.
He's publicized some good ideas. Ideas that I think will only benefit us in the present, and harm us in the future. Ideas that I think won't come off as advertised. He's got no one to block him in Congress, either, so if it doesn't happen, it means he changed his mind. I hope he will.
It's time for me to be Real. And Specific. But probably not Real Specific. Here's the truth. I am an idealist. I want to clean up the oceans, and revitalize the rain forests. I have organized rallies at colleges to this end. I have written letters to my congressmen, and signed petitions fighting for gay rights. I have had two abortions in my younger days. I never judge people, or a person, based on skin color, nationality, or religion. I have dated black, brown, yellow, and white people. In my family, I have Catholics, Mormons, Protestants, Pagans, Atheists, and well, no actual Muslims, but my Uncle read the Koran. I have lived in a commune, in my car, in an apartment, and in a house. I often get many people who dislike each other to work together, play together, party together, and talk to each other. I am selfish. I think of my family first, and the rest later. Until I had children, I thought of myself first. I am lazy. As I sit here writing this I am avoiding doing actual work. I have avoided writing this post for hours and hours, since I was awake and watching the election last night, and then stayed up talking about it for hours after that. I have already commented on other blogs today, and even now, as I am about to get to my point, I'm going to break for a cigarette.
...
...
OK, my point. My point is, I'm also a realist. I know that at the core no one is uncommonly good, or uncommonly evil. I also know that in mobs people are stupid, aggressive, and self-serving. I know that in order to get to utopia, you must travel down a long road taking baby steps. It is not one leap of faith that brings you to the promised land. I think that even if you continue to ignore all the stories that came out about Obama during his campaign, that he is all ideals, no substance. That he has a lot of plans that make us think that we're suddenly going to live in an ideal world. For instance, the plan to throw billions of dollars at green energy innovations cannot work without getting specific. You can't just tell people that lots of government money will make farming equipment run on corn alcohol. Before I spend money on this research, I would want something solid. I would like to know that first we're going to power the mid-west with wind energy. I want to see cars recycling their exhaust energy. I want to see more vibration energy collectors in train stations, and subways. I see these innovations being a good start, I do not see them being an end to oil consumption. I see a need to make sure that we (the free world including our Allies) continue to receive all the oil we need to run our lives. I feel a need to have a strong man behind the desk, with a steady hand on the button. I do not want to just push the button unnecessarily, or vindictively. But I also do not want to avoid pushing the button because of fear. Or because we can't afford to push it, because we've cut our defense budget.
I hope all goes well. I know we've survived some terrible presidents. I wish I didn't have to look at this term as one to be survived. I wish it could be something that I could rejoice over with apparently more than half of my fellow Americans. I hope in four years, I have seen my doubts, and fears assuaged. I hope that in four years I look back, and can say to myself, "Wow, he really knew what he was doing. I think he needs another four years to finish out his plans." I hope I want to re-elect him.
Here is my promise to our new President: I will be following more closely during the next four years than I did during the last four years. I will be more politically active, not because I'm going to try to shut him down, or because I want to gloat that he's not accomplishing the changes he hoped for, but because I will do everything that I can as a single citizen, as an American to get us to the Utopia he has us all drooling for. If he thinks he can do it, I think he's going to need our help, our support, our action to bring it about. We can't just go back to being lazy and apathetic. Without our continuing to stand together as so many of us did at campaign rallies and other events, he can't do it. He can't do it alone.
We've used our voice. We've decided what we want for our future. Now it's time to put our backs into it, and help him make it all happen.
I hope I didn't confuse you. It's hard for me to stay focused on my blog while trying to care for this damn household.
Monday, November 3, 2008
NEVERWAS there a better party
As most of the two people that read my blog know, this past weekend was Avitable's Halloween party. Pete and I attended it. And? It was AWESOME!
I met so many people there. I'm not usually one to go out and meet other bloggers, because I don't really feel cool enough. I don't blog often, I don't even know how to check to see if anyone is reading my journal, or add links, or upload pictures, or well, any of the "normal" things that bloggers do. But Avi lives kind of close to me, and I have met him before, so I felt slightly more comfortable meeting bloggers with him around.
If you haven't been to Avi's Avitaween parties before, I highly recommend it. There was food, liquor, beer, a bartender, karaoke, a blood red pool, and lots and lots of fun, interesting, and creative people. Not everybody was a blogger, some of the people were fortunate enough to know Adam personally, in a non-internet sort of way, and while they didn't talk to me much, they seemed cool, too.
Pete and I went as a Pimp, and his #1 Ho, respectively. Pete bought his costume at a Halloween store, I got my costume from my closet. While I have never worked as a ho, per se, before kids I was kind of a slut. (slight understatement) I'm pretty sure that I had actually worn the exact outfit out to a bar to see a local band play maybe 4 or 5 years ago.
I would like to talk about all the wonderful people I met, but I'm afraid to because I don't know how to link to them all, so I'm hoping that this will work. I'm trying something I've never done before, and if you can go visit all these websites, then it did otherwise, I'm an ass, ans I'm sorry. Also, I kissed a lot of women. I will link to those women in here, but since I haven't seen any of them admitting to kissing me, I won't tell you who is who. Nah Nah!
I was very excited to meet the beautiful Faiqa. Actually, she's the only Faiqa I know of, but it must be said that she is beautiful, in every reference, because, she is stunningly beautiful. I know that Pete really enjoyed her company, I'm sure as much for her intelligence, and passionate debating, as for her amazing good looks.
Hilly and I bonded, and since she at least admitted on her blog that she kissed some girls, I can tell you she is one of the girls I was fortunate enough to make out with. Pete was also fortunate enough to make out with her, and she was very respectful telling him that she wouldn't until she had heard from me that it was O.K. I thought that was sweet. She could have easily decided that I was too drunk, or too slutty to care, but she stood her ground.
Finn was actually the first person I met at the party (aside from the bartender) and she was very nice, and seemed pretty laid back. She and her husband talked with Pete and I long enough for us to get socially lubricated (a little drunk), so we could go on to try to be the life of the party. A mission that failed, since there were so many outgoing, exuberant people we couldn't lay claim to that title.
Wow, this is getting tough. Karl was dressed as a shim, and it took Pete and I half the party to figure out that he had a half shaved beard... we thought he was just really ugly, until we noticed that the ugly half was his beard.
Nis and Cher were the only people that we exchanged numbers with. Pete really liked them, but for the life of me I can't remember if they have a blog, or where to find it.
Oh, I can't forget my fellow Pittsburger, Becky. She was everything I'd imagined she'd be - sweet, happy, beautiful - and more - she allowed Pete to lick her. Really, I have to admit that I had really been looking forward to meeting her, and I feel like she was worth the wait, and I hope I can visit her when I take my random trips home to Pgh for rides at Kennywood.
I'm sure there were more. I know there were more. There was Sheila (Charm School Reject) who I met early on, and then lost track of, and Deanna Banana who was not the girl dressed as a Banana, and so many, many more.
I think Pete and I have learned a valuable lesson. We love bloggers, and the blogging community, and we will try to participate in more of these events. Also? We will definitely be at all of Adam's parties... as long as we're invited back.
P.S. If I met you and didn't link to you, or mention you, I'm sorry. I'm sure you were awesome. If I kissed you and didn't link to you, I'm VERY SORRY, you were a GREAT kisser. If you are Delmer I didn't mention you cause I didn't know if you would want to read the mommy blog of the woman who let you take pictures of her boobs... and everyone knows that you have to read blogs who link to you.
I met so many people there. I'm not usually one to go out and meet other bloggers, because I don't really feel cool enough. I don't blog often, I don't even know how to check to see if anyone is reading my journal, or add links, or upload pictures, or well, any of the "normal" things that bloggers do. But Avi lives kind of close to me, and I have met him before, so I felt slightly more comfortable meeting bloggers with him around.
If you haven't been to Avi's Avitaween parties before, I highly recommend it. There was food, liquor, beer, a bartender, karaoke, a blood red pool, and lots and lots of fun, interesting, and creative people. Not everybody was a blogger, some of the people were fortunate enough to know Adam personally, in a non-internet sort of way, and while they didn't talk to me much, they seemed cool, too.
Pete and I went as a Pimp, and his #1 Ho, respectively. Pete bought his costume at a Halloween store, I got my costume from my closet. While I have never worked as a ho, per se, before kids I was kind of a slut. (slight understatement) I'm pretty sure that I had actually worn the exact outfit out to a bar to see a local band play maybe 4 or 5 years ago.
I would like to talk about all the wonderful people I met, but I'm afraid to because I don't know how to link to them all, so I'm hoping that this will work. I'm trying something I've never done before, and if you can go visit all these websites, then it did otherwise, I'm an ass, ans I'm sorry. Also, I kissed a lot of women. I will link to those women in here, but since I haven't seen any of them admitting to kissing me, I won't tell you who is who. Nah Nah!
I was very excited to meet the beautiful Faiqa. Actually, she's the only Faiqa I know of, but it must be said that she is beautiful, in every reference, because, she is stunningly beautiful. I know that Pete really enjoyed her company, I'm sure as much for her intelligence, and passionate debating, as for her amazing good looks.
Hilly and I bonded, and since she at least admitted on her blog that she kissed some girls, I can tell you she is one of the girls I was fortunate enough to make out with. Pete was also fortunate enough to make out with her, and she was very respectful telling him that she wouldn't until she had heard from me that it was O.K. I thought that was sweet. She could have easily decided that I was too drunk, or too slutty to care, but she stood her ground.
Finn was actually the first person I met at the party (aside from the bartender) and she was very nice, and seemed pretty laid back. She and her husband talked with Pete and I long enough for us to get socially lubricated (a little drunk), so we could go on to try to be the life of the party. A mission that failed, since there were so many outgoing, exuberant people we couldn't lay claim to that title.
Wow, this is getting tough. Karl was dressed as a shim, and it took Pete and I half the party to figure out that he had a half shaved beard... we thought he was just really ugly, until we noticed that the ugly half was his beard.
Nis and Cher were the only people that we exchanged numbers with. Pete really liked them, but for the life of me I can't remember if they have a blog, or where to find it.
Oh, I can't forget my fellow Pittsburger, Becky. She was everything I'd imagined she'd be - sweet, happy, beautiful - and more - she allowed Pete to lick her. Really, I have to admit that I had really been looking forward to meeting her, and I feel like she was worth the wait, and I hope I can visit her when I take my random trips home to Pgh for rides at Kennywood.
I'm sure there were more. I know there were more. There was Sheila (Charm School Reject) who I met early on, and then lost track of, and Deanna Banana who was not the girl dressed as a Banana, and so many, many more.
I think Pete and I have learned a valuable lesson. We love bloggers, and the blogging community, and we will try to participate in more of these events. Also? We will definitely be at all of Adam's parties... as long as we're invited back.
P.S. If I met you and didn't link to you, or mention you, I'm sorry. I'm sure you were awesome. If I kissed you and didn't link to you, I'm VERY SORRY, you were a GREAT kisser. If you are Delmer I didn't mention you cause I didn't know if you would want to read the mommy blog of the woman who let you take pictures of her boobs... and everyone knows that you have to read blogs who link to you.
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