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Jun. 10th, 2010

Writer's Block: Instant wish

If you could have one--and only one--wish granted in the next five minutes, what would you wish? How do you think it would improve your life?

Assuming this isn't a Monkey's Paw type of wish, I'd go for winning the 90 million dollar lotto. Scratch that. I'd just wish for the 45 million (since half the 90 mil would go to taxes) NOW, in hard currency. I feel a little bad saying that I'd wish for money, but while love of money is the root of all evil, money itself is just a tool. And it's a tool I need.

I hate my job. I really, really do. I hate it more and more with each passing day. I've come to understand that I really entered into the wrong field, and want out. I can't afford to. With hubby and roomie only working part-time, paying for our lives rests firmly on my shoulders. I can't give up my job and go back to school. I can't fix up my house, can't do the things I want to do. Hell, right now, I can't even afford lunch.

If I no longer had to worry about money, I could quit my job and go back to school. But first I'd be able to take some time off and get some things I want done taken care of. What would I do with 45 million dollars? I'm so glad you asked!

Step One: Remove all financial burdens.
This means I would pay off my and my husband's debts: college loans, car, mortgage, etc. I would also have my house fixed up. I know a couple contractors I would really like to have work for me.
I would even pay off my father-in-law's debts, as much as I don't want to. I would also set up some kind of trust account for my father-in-law to live off of until he dies, with the stipulation that any money left in it would come back to me when he dies. (He has only one child, my husband, and his wife is dead.)
There would also be college funds for several younger relatives, and the church building fund. I would pay for my church's new, desperately needed construction.

Step Two: Home
I would move to the Plains of the Midwest, probably South Dakota near Rapid City or Sioux Falls, and build my dream home on 100 acres of land.
I would raise my own vegetables, fruits, and herbs as much as I could, have a couple greenhouses, raise chickens, and keep goats. I would have an orchard surrounded by flowers. In the midst of my orchard would be my beehives.
There would be a barn for rescued horses, and we would also take in cats, dogs, and other small animals that needed rescuing. During the summer, we would operate a camp for juvenile delinquents to come and work on the ranch, to spend time with the animals and nature.
The house itself would be a sprawling log cabin. The house would include a gaming room, a games-craft room, a sewing room for me, a HUGE kitchen, a library, a master bedroom with all the trappings of luxury that hubby and I can stand, fireplaces, an in-home theater, a pool out back, and so on. I haven't thought about this too much, but I would like a really nice, pretty, spacious home. I've always lived in really small spaces and I want ROOM.
The master bedroom I have to talk about. I want a giant bed, big enough for me, hubby, and the cats to all sleep on without being crowded. I want solid wood furniture and silk and satin and brocade. I want it to look like the bedroom of a rich, but country, feudal lord. Actually, that's kind of what I want the whole house to look like....
I want an in-suite bathroom with one of those jacuzzi tubs for two, a separate shower stall with lots of sprayers, double sink, separate vanity, all those things we women like in our fancy bathrooms.

Step Three: Dreams
I would take care of my parents. They would never have to worry about money again. I would move my parents out to South Dakota with me, and build them a smaller place (because they don't want a big home) on the property. They'd receive a monthly stipend as well, and I'd pay for their home and utilities. All they'd have to do is buy food and clothes, basically.
I would go back to college and get my N.D. So, my house would need space for my office and my attached supplements and Natural Health store.
I would have my shoes custom-made for my weird feet. I would have some really nice Renn Fest clothes, lots of them.
Hubby and I would be able to take two-month-long vacations to the Maryland Renaissance Festival every year. We'd rent out some nice suite in a local hotel, be driven there every morning, and spend the whole day.
We'd buy our new clothes, our games, swords, food, trinkets, jewelry, whatever we wanted. (We would, of course, have a budget for this, or we'd go really crazy.) During the week when not at the Fest, Hubby and I would visit our friends and family who live in the DC Metro area.
I would be able to support some really good work being done by missionaries in Papua, New Guinea. I would be able to not worry. I would be free.

That's how I see this. I see it as freedom. Freedom from fear, freedom to be charitable, to give consultations at little cost, to sell supplements and such at cost, to do what I want with my finite time on this planet.

Jul. 28th, 2008


I think about quitting my job all the time these days. I hate coming into work, and I think about going home and trying to get my house in order. I wish I could. My home is a disaster. Nothing is unpacked, really. Boxes are everywhere. CRAP is everywhere, and I'm tired. I'm always tired. I feel this horrid knot in my stomach all day, every day. It won't let me sleep. I'm smoking now more than ever. I just don't know what to do. I hate feeling this way. I wish I could find a way out. I'm trapped in the life I chose. I just didn't realize what I had chosen when I picked it.
It's amazing the way we blunder through life, isn't it? Most of the time, we have no freaking CLUE what we're doing. We make decisions, and that influences the next ones. Life is not made of grand moments like in the movies. You don't suddenly wake up and decide the course of your life. It's more like being in a swamp, and picking your way through on the rocks and sturdier fallen logs. You step to that rock, and that limits your choices to a rock there or a log that way, and once you're halfway through the mess, you realize that you're heading in a direction you never meant to go, Pippen and Merry in the woods, because you made what you thought were the best decisions at the time, but they turned out to band together into one giant, looming, terrible mistake.
I am the one who makes money in my family. My husband is spending the money he makes before he gets it. We're falling more and more behind. I dread checking the bank balance, because I know it's going to make me angry. And if I get angry at him and tell him, he just withdraws. He doesn't fix anything. He doesn't change anything. He just pulls into his shell. I have to then apologize for getting mad, and then try to tell him that he's not a loser, he can do good things, that he's not as bad as he makes himself out to be. Even though I'm the one that's been wronged, he makes me feel like I've somehow wronged him by telling him he spent money we don't have, and that if we're going to pay the bills, some of this has to stop. It doesn't matter how gently I tell him. The moment I mention money at all, he gets all upset. He's too used to having that settlement money, that supposedly-bottomless well, the one he and his parents dried up in just a few years. So, when I tell him we can't afford something, he doesn't seem to understand. It's like he thinks I'm just being mean.
Which means I keep it all tucked inside, or vent steam to the people who would most like to see my situation improve, and least need to hear about how awful things can be. But when you keep this kind of anger in you, when you hide this much frustrated rage, it starts to wear on you, make you tired, make you sick. It keeps you from ever feeling really happy. It sucks the joy out of everything you used to love. It'll kill you. I feel like there's a wolf in my gut, gnawing at my soul like an old bone. I just don't know how to make it go away.

Jul. 1st, 2008

Where I Get My Awesome Food-Making Stuff

This is for my friend, Mare of Earth, who asked me this when we were jabbering on the phone last night. So if you're not her, you're probably disinterested.

Where do I get my awesome food-making stuff, she asked. Not exactly like that, but close enough. So...without further ado...[DRUMROLL]

The Bread Beckers is where. Their website is a little...colorful...but they sell awesome stuff.

Jun. 20th, 2008

Hi, Daddy

My father now reads my LJ. I know this because he asked me for the URL. So...

Jun. 13th, 2008

RIP, Little Turtle

I've been a little busy with the whole moving thing. But I have to share a sad story. You must, after reading this story, immediately head on over to Cute Overload, I Can Has Cheezburger?, or I Has A Hot Dog to be reminded of the good in this world. Because what happened the other day was just sad.

My husband and I were on our way back from some errand on Monday or Tuesday, and we saw a turtle on the road. When I was a little girl, my dad used to rescue turtles in similar situations, bring them home, let us play with them, and then we would go set them free somewhere safer, like near a little creek or pond or something like that. I saw the little turtle, and told my husband I wanted to go rescue it. Unfortunately, I was driving. So, we pulled the car over a little bit ahead of the turtle, I jumped out and ran back to save him, and my husband would pull a U-turn at the nearest light and come back to pick up the turtle and me. And then we would take him over to see dad, then drive down to the lake and set the turtle free. It was going to be awesome. I was going to save the little turtle's life and be its tall, strange hero.
Well, I got to the turtle, and its face was covered in blood. I remember thinking that I didn't know turtles had red blood. I don't know WHY I thought that, but I did. Anyway, that was the first big danger sign. But I rushed to it thinking illogically about a trip to the animal hospital and still possibly being able to save the poor little guy. I got to him and picked him up, and he tried to pull into his shell, because he was afraid of me (quite as he should have been, he didn't know I was trying to save him). When he retreated into his mobile home, one of his legs didn't go in. And I realized that it was broken and shattered and there was exposed tissue hanging out of it. It was literally only attached by skin. And I started to cry. I held his little foot up so it wouldn't dangle and I tried to decide what to do.
Standing in the middle of the road, I'm holding a nearly-dead turtle and crying like an idiot. A car came around the corner, and I figured it was time to get off the road. So I jumped into the median, and thought I should put him down so he wouldn't be so scared while we waited for my husband. I was still thinking that we could get him to the vet, and if the vets could save him, if they had to amputate his ruined leg, we could take him home and keep him still. I could get an aquarium and I could still be the little guy's hero. I said something about "it's gonna be ok" and I'm not sure who I was trying to reassure. Most probably myself, as I doubt the turtle spoke English. I put the little turtle down, and he tried to come out of his shell. His head made it about half-way, and I saw that not only was his leg ruined but so was one of his eyes. And just as I realize there is no way to save the turtle's life, he died. He just stopped moving.
At this point, I can barely contain sobs, and I just stood there, not knowing what I should do with him. I finally decided to leave him on median, but I put him underneath a little bush so at least the crows wouldn't be picking at him. Stupid, because the crows could go UNDER the bush, I know. But I wasn't exactly rational. I stood waiting for my husband to come back, trying to keep it together. I wasn't entirely successful.
About 30 seconds later, my husband comes back and picks me up. I get in the car and collapse into sobs.

Look, I know that it was just a turtle. It wasn't self-aware. It wasn't sentient. It wasn't all that important. But it was a living thing whose life was snuffed out because some jackass zooming along in his car ran him over, probably didn't even NOTICE that he condemned a living thing to a slow and painful death, and zoomed along on his merry way. That just doesn't seem right to me. I mean, if it's a choice between running over an animal or causing an accident that could hurt a person, of course you have to choose not to injure the person, but I doubt the jerk who ran him over couldn't have avoided it. I watched several people avoid hitting the turtle on my way back to pick him up. It wasn't necessary. It was an impersonal cruelty. And I don't think that little creature should have had to die like that. Call me a wuss, call me overly sentimental, I don't care. I just think that if we took a little more care, and were a little more aware of how easily we can destroy life, we would be better people and it wouldn't happen as often. I don't think that carelessly squishing small animals is good stewardship of the planet.

Jun. 4th, 2008

Fat People Are Just No Good

I found this link on Conservative Grapevine and a little piece of me is wondering why it's there. Mostly I'm just seized by a white-hot, near-apoplectic rage regarding the comments below.
What is this link, you ask? Why, it's a link to paparazzi shots of Queen Latifah in a swimsuit at the beach. Apparently, she is not skinny enough to be allowed to wear swimsuits in public. And my family wonders why I don't go swimming anymore. The author of this "article" had this to say: "I know a lot of you would call Queen Latifah fat, but I say, hey, she’s just loving life . . . and by “life” I mean Combo #6."
Two commenters:
Hank Hill - "quick!!!!! Push Orca back in the water!"
Justin - "FLASH…breaking news…Near tragedy today when the Coast Guard mistook Queen Latifah floating on a raft for a helicopter landing pad."

Here is a picture for your viewing pleasure:

Yeah, I know the website is called "CelebSlam." But why are we slamming her for being a size 14 or 16? Seriously. Does anyone else remember what happened to Britney Spears? Yes, she had gained some weight, but she looked NORMAL, and everyone was calling her "fat!"
How many girls with eating disorders saw what happened to her and ran straight to the bathroom to upchuck their 20-calorie dinner? How many overweight women are going to stay home all summer rather than go have fun with their families because this is what gets said about us?
I LOVE swimming. I haven't been in a pool since my honeymoon. I hadn't been in a pool for years before then. So, in the last 5 or 6 years, I have been swimming exactly ONCE. And that's why, because those people commenting on CelebSlam can pretend they only say it about celebrities, but they're liars. They say it about everyone. And we can hear you.
Hell, I went to the GYM and got made fun of for being overweight! In a gym, people! Why would you MAKE FUN of a woman who is obviously TRYING to get in shape except simply because you're cruel. So...those jackasses at CelebSlam can kiss my fat ass. And good for Queen Latifah for not being so self-conscious that she can't go to the beach. Wish I was that strong.

May. 27th, 2008

Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull

Sorry to disappoint my few readers, but I have tried and TRIED to write a goof on Indiana Jones. It's just not working. Frankly, I liked it a bit too much and there's an awful lot that could be spoiled by my goofing it.

I'll just say the following, for now:
1) Shia LaBeouf did not ruin the movie. He did a good job.
2) Harrison Ford's still got it.
3) It was campy. Intentionally so.
4) Cate Blanchette does not know how to do an Eastern European accent. It was pretty sad. I mean, worse than that guy from the first movie. Remember the really creepy Nazi who tried to grab the amulet out of the fire and burned his hand? The dude whose face melted later on in the movie? Yeah. Worse than that guy.
5) I was sad that Sean Connery wasn't in it.
6) People who make movies need to be a little more considerate of physics. Seriously.
7) It was totally worth the $10 to watch it in the theater.
8) Why didn't they show the Dark Knight preview? WHY??!?!

Once it's been out a little longer, I may write a goof. For now, there's just too much spoil-able information in it. I mean, they weren't REALLY shocking, but they were surprises. And people need surprises in their lives, right?

May. 22nd, 2008

27 Dresses

Yeap, I watched it. In my defense, I only watched it because I wanted to see the different bridesmaid dresses. That's it. I SWAREZ!

Guys, it was so bad it parodied itself. It was paaaaaainful. I don't know if I can do a "short version" parody. But I'll try. I don't remember any of the character's names, so we'll call them "Pushover," (the main character), "Dude" (because he was NOT a gentleman), "Clueless Boss," (of Pushover), "Whiny" (sister of Pushover), and "Lush" (whory best friend of Pushover). Ok, here we go:

Pushover: "I'm a total pushover! I'm in two weddings on the same night and I'm going to run back and forth between them because I can't stand to say the N-O word!"
Dude: "I'm an undercover reporter crashing one of these weddings so that I can write about it. I'm cynical and mysterious. Also a total jerk. But I'm so devastatingly handsome!"
Lush: Tee-hee! I'm SOOOOO drunk! Someone take me home with him so I can feel pretty!"
Dude: "Hey, are you in two weddings tonight?"
Pushover: "Well...yeah...but only because I'm a TOTAL pushover!"
Dude: "You're a little psychotic, but I think I can spend the next 90 minutes annoying and stalking you in order to get a story for the newspaper that will get me off the wedding-blurp beat."
Pushover: "What did you just say?"
Dude: "NOTHING!"
The Next Day
Lush: "I'm SOOOOO hungover. I really want to be like those Sex in the City chicks, but I just wind up looking like a heroine-chic ad from the 90's!"
Pushover: "I'm totally in love with my boss. But he has no idea!"
Boss: "I'm charmingly befuddled! I have no idea Pushover loves me. She does whatever I say and strews rose petals everywhere so that I may walk without soiling my expensive shoes."
That Night
Whiny: "HEY SIS! I'm here to crash at your place because I'm a slut! All the women in this movie except for you are TOTAL sluts, did you notice that? We're like a foil off which your self-righteous martyr complex seems less obnoxious!"
Pushover: "Heeeey...I'm going to a party tonight with my coworkers. Bye!"
Whiny: "I'll come too!"
At the Party
Whiny: "Your boss is SO hot! I'm going to go seduce him!"
Pushover: "Ok. I can't tell you to back off because I have a martyr complex!"
Dude: "Hey, Pushover! Fancy meeting you here! I'm stalking you because I stole your day timer at the reception!"
Pushover: "Oh, boy. Is this going to turn into one of those romantic comedies where the guy stalks the girl until she realizes she loves him?"
Dude: "Yeap."
Pushover: "Great. I'll see you the next time you decide to stalk me!"
Whiny: "Oh, Boss. You're so sweet. Let's go someplace and have sex!"
Boss: "Wow, you're like a slutty version of your sister. That's totally hot. Let's do!"
Insert a very long, inane sequence in which Dude and Pushover fall for each other, Dude rights the story, Pushover reads the story. You know the drill. See Straight Talk for further details. The other half of this monotony involves Boss asking Whiny to marry him, and Pushover planning their wedding.
Pushover: "I'm really pissed because the guy I fell for is a total jerk! I think I'll take it out on my sister by exposing all of her flaws at the rehearsal dinner!"
Boss: "Oh my goodness! That Whiny is a total slut! I'm so glad I haven't married her yet! I think I'll pass!"
Pushover: "Oops. I just did a bad thing."
Lush: "Yeah, you did. And I'm the drunken whore and even I know you screwed up."
Pushover: "Oh well! I'm the heroine of this story and everyone watching still loves me! I think I'm going to go find the Dude now and make up with him!"
Dude: "Yeah, it's cool. Let's get married!"
Pushover: "Yeah! And I'll make all the women whose weddings I've been in wear the dress they made me wear to my wedding! Because this movie is all about guilt and punishment anyway!"
Dude: "Sweet. Can we go do it now?"
Pushover: "Why not?"
At the wedding
Boss: "Hey, Whiny. I still think you're hawt. Plus that thing you did that one time...yeah, I miss that."
Whiny: "Ok, I'll be more honest with you this time. Also, I'm still kind of a slut."
Boss: "Sweeeeeet."
Lush: "Damn! All the hot guys at the wedding are taken! Who am I going to drunkenly seduce to bolster my self-esteem now?!"
Roll Credits

May. 21st, 2008

Yet Another Musical Interlude

If I could pick a person to be like, it would be this woman.

How awesome is HER job? She gets to wear fantastic clothes and sing old-sounding songs and hang out with some just amazing musicians. I am SO jealous.

May. 20th, 2008

Captain Crankypants

Yeah, that'd be me. I'm not happy with the whole "job" thing right now. There are things happening that I can't really talk about, but they suck. And I'm cranky. So...I need to find a way to quit without sending my family into bankruptcy.

Wish me luck!

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