There's a WORLD Climate Change conference happening in South Africa right now, Congress is censoring the internet and turning our country into a police state, our economy is SHIT, and this is what he is concerned about:
I just switched off spr*nt and started with M*tro PCS (Ghettro PCS), at a savings of approximately $140 a month. Part of that is because I am no longer paying for my kids' phones, but really, one of their lines was an extra $20 a month, and the other was free, so, yeh. I was stuck with the suck for YEARS because of their stupid contracts, and crappy phones (with planned obsolescence features, I'm sure, because the phones almost always died 2-4 weeks before the contract ended each time), and I didn't get better service when I had a problem. Ugh.
So, I guess my mother has jumped on the "fuck shadeshaman's boundaries, I'm sending a postcard anyway" bandwagon along with my father. Funny how they could never agree on any positive parenting, but they could sure come together in shitting on me. Ah, family....
On Thursday, when T was being all mad at me and I was cooking, my lower back started seizing up. Oh, yeh, I know a lot of it was due to psychological stress. It might have had a little to do with starting to take yoga twice a week, and it might have had something to do with going to see this awesome band, Indian (I don't know if you can see this in the clip, but the drummer looks like he's smelling cat poo the entire time he's playing, it's hilariously unnerving),
"No revolutionary movement is complete without its poetical expression. If such a movement has caught hold of the imagination of the masses, they will seek a vent in song for the aspirations, the fears and hopes, the loves and hatreds engendered by the struggle. Until the movement is marked by the joyous, defiant, singing of revolutionary songs, it lacks one of the most distinct marks of a popular revolutionary movement; it is a dogma of a few, and not the faith of the multitude".
-- James Connolly, 1907
..and beating you up.
...wherein I was dying from being stuck in a firestorm and I happened to be with my ex-boyfriend in the dream and I thought it was better to tell him that I loved him than to die with anger on my lips. He did not reciprocate. I guess I didn't tell her the rest of the nightmare, because I came back as a ghost and realized that she was stuck in the house while the fire was racing toward her. She could not escape, but I thought she might survive if she got in the bathtub and turned on the shower and filled the tub and got as cold and wet as possible.
When I was a kid, and I had to go to "Sunday School", it always struck me as odd that the supposedly Christian kids in my SS class were so fucking mean and violent. It didn't seem very "Christian" to me to get hit. As I got older and I (still) went to church, because my mom did, and because I had weird hair and was very alone and I thought I needed to redeem myself, I saw kids there who I knew drank and did a shit-ton of drugs, swore like sailors, dry-humped in the halls at school, and shoplifted, but who, on Sunday, acted like they were all pious and shit.
I hate this stupid holiday as much as the others. Not because I don't like hanging out with friends, but because every amerikkan holiday is built upon a lie, and I'm tired of the national disconnect.
I am making stuffed cabbage leaves and T is making tiramisu. We were gonna go out for sushi, but I think the local sushi bars are closed. Whatevs.