Give Me Your Tired

The city of Raleigh doesn’t want charity groups* to feed the homeless in Moore Square.

*My family volunteers with one of these groups, Human Beans Together, and have done so for a year.

Not only did they (the city) not want us to feed the homeless in Moore Square– the homeless most definitely did not make it into the $14 million dollar renovation plans for the park— no one in the city offered suggestions for other options.  Or they didn’t until a blog post from Love Wins blew up with internet and NC made the national news.  Again.  Don’t forget that October election.

The first time the cops threatened arrest for noncompliance with a long-standing, but never-enforced city ordinance, we moved across the street to an empty Salvation Army building. This lasted about 2 weeks before the city announced that they owned that building, too, so– no.  The next week Human Beans paid for parking spots in a nearby parking lot (smart, we are).  Then national attention and political deflection, and meetings with politicians making nice– remember that election in October?

It’s the refusal to open a weekend soup kitchen that made the suddenness of these plans feel deliberate and calculating.  For me, the fight isn’t about Moore Square at all– if they gave me a building nearby and said, here- you can use this space, I would be fine. My fight isn’t for that small block of land;  it’s about feeding the homeless on the two days where the soup kitchens are closed and, AND children cannot get meals at school.

Yeah– we have kids that come through that line, too.

Lt Carswell says, “The truth is, they are chalking the fine up as a cost of doing business. It’s all about making money.”

Now, I’m no business woman, so maybe I’m missing how that particular business model succeeds. The one where providing free food to people unable to pay for food makes rocks a huge profit.

Phase 1: Pay for food and give it away for free.  Phase 3: Profit.  Ah, Lt. Carswell must have watched the Underpants Gnome episode on South Park.

I realize I’m rambling a bit and I’m probably dangling participles all over the place, but I have my first ever sinus infection and, whoa, does it suck.  

So, if the city doesn’t want the homeless fed in Moore Square, then the city should open the soup kitchen on the weekends. If the city (state) finds themselves uncomfortable when confronted by homelessness, then perhaps Step One is the re-allocation of funds for unemployment benefits, mental health and domestic abuse programs.  Shouldn’t that happen prior to starving human beings? Obviously the money exists– if only we could filter some of that $87,500 back from the 24-year old hands of the under-qualified, but politically-connected, HHS policy adviser.

And finally, these crime stats, collected into lump statistics designed to show an increase in crime specifically around Moore Square? I spent afternoon reading the individual crime report data and, yeah, Moore Square has more arrests than the proximate Nash Park.   Quite a few drunk and disorderly charges around 2am, and DUIs that… WAIT! That’s it,  we can solve the crime problem at Moore Square by closing the many bars that flank around surrounding streets.


All of that sarcasm aside, I’m not saying that the people living/working downtown don’t have a point about trash and outdoor bathroom usage (though I’ve not yet identified a free public restroom down there– very New York of us, hunh?), because they also have a voice that needs to be heard.  Some of the people down there have expressed themselves with compassionate concern.  I’d like to work with THOSE people.

Then there are these people:

“Screw ’em, they choose to be homeless, they should get a job.”  Sure, sure.  It’s not as if NC’s 8.7% unemployment rate (the national rate is 7.3%) creates job-finding difficulties– even for those with showers, homes, and the appropriate education.

Sidebar: The internet, and the anonymous, hate-filled minds that comment therein, causes more 3am nightmares for me than any dark alley, or homeless filled park.

I just… when I read the reasons for homelessness as tabulated by the folks that study that sort of thing, choice isn’t what leaps out at me.

Lately, whenever I hear a conservative this or that spout off about traditional American values; how we’ve forgotten what America stands for; how we need to get back to our forefather’s America I can’t help but think:

I agree.

Though I think many of y’all skipped school the day teachers defined the real meaning behind all of that American symbology you’ve armored up in.

Lady Liberty Did I Stutter




My Teacher Said

“To have our parents show us video about what happened on September 11th.  Okay, mom?”

Edit: I sincerely doubt that the teacher delivered this exact message.  I’m sure it was more along the “ask you parents” route and my kid is pre-programmed to request a youtube education.

In a word, no.  No way will there be any video watching of 9/11. Joel pried me off the couch and away from CNN somewhere around the end of October 2011, marking the last of my obsessive watching of news coverage.  Hyperfocus and national tragedy just don’t get on well together.

I should have looked up more information on how to explain September 11th to children.  After last year, I should have been more prepared, should have known better than to think I had just one more year.

Defining terrorist, explaining why they’d want to fly planes into people, describing the resulting change in America without the many layers of my well-nourished cynicism, and revisiting symbolism’s importance in human culture?

See, I normally do an okay job with this– I’m reasonably good at peeling away all the extra adjectives and keeping information at an age-appropriate level.  For example, I’ve never mentioned Zoroaster during religious conversations.

But I struggle with this day.  Because September 11, 2001 was the “I made it 6 months” after my father’s rather abrupt death (some of you I promised warnings: that’s the make-you-cry-post).  I started that day steeped in symbolic grief– and the attacks just made it MORE.

I struggle and I didn’t even know anybody that died.  Not a single person, not a single friend-of-a-friend.   It feels like the depth of my emotion is transferral. Raw.  But not legitimately raw.  And because they aren’t raw just because of the attacks, it makes me feel fake to think about it too much.

He asked to see pictures.  And I know him– I know if I hadn’t found something for his brain to see, he’d just go find it himself.  There are some pictures– you know the ones– that remain as vivid in my memory as the first day.  I don’t want him to see those.

He’s 6. His brother is 4.  Their history doesn’t include those images.

But it’s symbology, right?  The smoke pouring from those two buildings.  It’s hate, it’s disgust. It’s religious intolerance.  It’s patriotism.  It’s human spirit.  It’s retaliation.  It’s war.  It’s the willing sacrifice of personal freedoms.

It’s complicated.













Thoughts in a List: Music

  1. Searching amazon, because you know– procrastinating– looking for new music.
  2. Come across Now That’s What You Call Music #47, realizing I know a single song.  Which made feel all–
  3. THANK ZEUS.  Ahem.
  4. Only to remember– Wait, don’t I own one of…
  5. Dig out giant caselogic thing and giggle/groan to think of how much money I spent; how many times I joined the eight CDs for a penny club.  That’s vintage, kids.
  6. Find at least 10 un-clouded discs.  What the what?
  7. The Now CD? Volume 9.NOW
  8. My attachment to pop music and various artist compilations began many years ago. Like back when MTV played music and created CDs.
  9. Something about flipping through those pages, not recognizing the album because not everyone printed things like words on discs back then, and JB never, ever put them back in the right sleeve.  Or recognizing the album and remembering how it used to slide into your car’s after-market player.  How loudly you would play Sitting on the Dock of the Bay in high school, with the bass cranked to an obnoxious level, because Otis just GOT me, ya know?  That brand of ennui cannot be expressed with ear buds, my friends.
  10. Wondering about the contents of the dozenish unlabeled discs.  Veritable treasures of musical memory, just waiting to be rediscovered.  Or piles of crap.  Now, if you’ll excuse me– I’m off to set adrift to some good vibrations.  Because time is eternal.







Amazon Prime. Piranhas and Free Shipping

For the low, low price of $80 an Amazon prime membership can be yours!  I don’t often order physical product from them having realized that it exploits employees like it wants to be the walmart of the matrix; but damn, 5 minutes of time to find the from-preschool-favorite-stuffed-beanie-baby-tiger with free two day shipping?  Hard to argue with pure convenience.  Combine the free streaming video, and the free lending of a book per month?

 amazon prime

 Oh, my kindle habit.  A habit that turned from an app on the iPad to an actual kindle because the iPad got too heavy.  Oh, and other people in the family– like JB, the iPad’s owner, started requesting time.  500 books in one year– not counting the library downloads and those I deleted because they were just THAT bad*– sort of disallows complete dissing of The ‘Zon.

*I have a thing about free stuff; why else would Senior Living have made it’s way into my home?  Free books, self published?  Some very good.  Many really not.

So.  One free book.  This should be simple enough.

I started looking for August’s free book already feeling gypped because I forgot July– yeah amazon, where was the email about that, hmm?

I’m talking 2 evenings, at least 6 hours, and 100 previewed books that I then cross-referenced with the library’s available downloads.  Don’t want to waste my free prime book if I can get that milk for free from the library, amiright?

Unlike my typical e-book searches, which rarely break $3.99, I’m hunting for something in the Gold Circle price range.  Yeah baby, the 5.99.  But I didn’t stop there– let’s hit the genres and authors way out of my normal range (which isn’t saying much since I added Mark Twain and… definitely not-Twain… to my already-read list).

A few things occurred to me, right before I downloaded a historical romance about an english rake–who also happens to be a gigolo– and a virginal widow, because, yeah TOO MANY SHINY BOOKS.

  1. I’m bored with my reading, yet can’t stop making bad choices.  I also don’t want to read anything too terribly difficult, because you know, lazy.  Thus my book choices morphed into the metaphorical version of late-night snacking:  not hungry, gonna eat anyway, but no way will it look like a carrot.
  2. I wanted my lent book to be worth a lot, and by the time I got done searching?  It cost me $1385.36 of my contracted-hourly fee and all of the soul I keep in my left foot.
  3. I get motivated like the space shuttle re-enters the atmosphere: specific windows of opportunity at 11 am and 11 pm.   If it’s 11:15 am and I haven’t already begun something fantastic (and with kids I usually haven’t) then I’m stuck circling around with the space trash until 11 pm.  At 11 pm I have to pretend to be trying to go to bed lest JB realize exactly how late I stay up every night.  Really sweetie– by 12:30 every night.  Cough.
  4. The greatest challenge to my human happiness condition is my semi-professional ability to waste time.  This countered by an actual need to spend time with those family people, and those friend folks.  But then I’m with the real people in my life, being all resentful of the time that I could be spending on… What?  Tonight’s search of why my city spells Buffaloe with an E?  Because that matters, ever.  I missed my calling as a politician, I could rock that filibuster* like Poison in the 80s.
  5. Speaking of politics, my greatest blogging/writing success of the past week has to be the 4 search term hits for “McCrory is an asshole”.

*For serious.  I had a talking problem in school (can you believe!) and my parents– in an attempt at creative punishment that always, always backfires– stood me in front of a tree and made me talk to it for 3 hours.  AND I DID.  My final 30 minutes were spent on various renditions of:  “ask not what your mustard can do for you, but what you can do for your mustard” just to watch my Dad waffle between rage and amazement.

NC: Lawmaking For the Corporation, By The Corporation.

North Carolina Constitution

The current NC trends in law and legislation creation appear to focus on:

a) turning away federal money for social programs, and to make “necessary budget cuts” therein.

b) accepting federal incentives for corporate and commercial growth.

Y’all, they (as in NCGA folks– a suspicious number of which are either real estate developers and/or lawyers) are messing with our… everything.

Like water. Here, there, everywhere.  For example, in the Farm Act:


Developer Tom wants to build some coastal property and make some fancy-mitigated wetlands, you know, over there somewhere. Cool beans. Unless you are a loggerhead turtle, and really, what do we need turtles for anyway?  

I mean North Carolina’s representatives are diligently working to write legislation based on solid environmental science.  Look at real estate broker/ State Representative Pat McElraft’s bill that specifically would NOT mandate regulatory sea-level policy based on scientific evidence of sea-level change.  Regulations that would have risked a large number of already-approved, or under-review, land use plans.

 Fishy Time Troll Herring

M’kay, developers and real estate brokers (no conflict there, snort) simply don’t believe in climate change. More importantly, they don’t believe in rescinding the millions of dollars in planned building permits over something that might happen.

Since we’re already talking about water, grab the environmental legislation and a shovel for this giant pile of inorganic fertilizer, House Bill 94.

Why exactly should everyone in this state be nervous about the folks futzing with the environmental laws? It starts at the top, with John Skvarla, Secretary of N.C. Department of Environment and Natural Resources.

John doesn’t seem to believe much in things like climate change.  Or renewable energy.

Then next, Assistant Secretary Mitch Gillespie, a long time Republican member of the house with a lot of corporate backing not known for environmentally friendly policy. 

A beach-loving state, yes.  And now also a state embracing Hydraulic Fracturing (fracking) with the same fervent enthusiasm a child has for a new puppy. But it’s okay, because certainly the newly reconstituted Mining and Energy Commission has been populated with members that are politically/industrially objective, and scientific experts.

Okay, probably not.  You don’t have to drill too far down the member list before finding the new vice chairman of the Commission is George Howard– co-founder and CEO of Restoration Systems.

“It’s good to see big-time institutional capital come into it, because we want to see the industry professionalized — not a lot of mom-and-pops,” said George Howard, co-founder and president of Raleigh, N.C.-based Restoration Systems, which banks 25,000 acres of wetlands and 60 miles of waterways in half a dozen states.”

and Howard lauded the success of other mitigation firms.  Firms that think…

“If you think about pipelines and power lines and the siting of renewable energy … mining, oil and shale gas — all have significant impacts,” he [Fred Danforth] said.

Regs, shale drilling spur business”

Restoration Systems… why does that sound familiar? Ah, right- John Skvarla was the CEO.   

You can get more government/corporation incestuous than that.

The people charged with protecting the environment are the same people that view environmentally unfriendly activities as things good for business?  This seem like a horrible idea.

But wait– there’s more!

House Bill 321, which amends Local Solid Waste Planning made me snort when I saw that they replaced actual goals and reporting practices with: “local government shall make a good‑faith effort to achieve the State’s forty percent (40%) municipal solid waste reduction goal and to comply with the State’s comprehensive solid waste management plan”

I’m a parent– this is what I think of when I see the words good-faith:  It was a total accident that I was kicking the window when it broke.

At this point I admit to hours of reading punctuated by snorts.

There was intent written into those laws on solid waste, landfills, and new brownfield mitigation rules– you can smell it.  At first I couldn’t find the relationship between the systematic deregulation and the why.

Then a friend mentions the ReVenture project in Charlotte…   Revitalization of a superfund site, cleaning up contamination, job creation, recycling– on the surface this all sounds great.

Everything to make my little hippie heart dance with glee.

Except when I turned on the hyperfocus it looks a little more like this:

How the ReVenture project shapes NC legislation

Click for a larger image


And after looking at what ReVenture proposes and considering the types of things being written into law? When looking at–

ReVenture happening in McCrory’s previous backyard; if the NCGA wasn’t slipping in new deregulation legislation on brownfield development [1]; and if both the brownfield development and “greenness” didn’t come with so many nice local incentives [2]; if the recycling part of ReVenture didn’t involve burning trash and trees and the NCGA wasn’t proposing amendments to air quality rules[3]; if ReVenture wasn’t right off Catawba River and the Environmental Management Commission (goodness that’s a lot of lawyers) wasn’t getting ready to amend all of the Riparian Buffer Rules for the state’s watershed [4] ; if the EMC had to follow their own rules about making rules [5];  if none of this [6]; or this [7] existed. 

[1] PART XX of House Bill 94 and Part V of House Bill 74.

[2] HOUSE BILL 1829 and GS_105-277.13.

[3] Senate Bill 171: Limit Regulation of Greenhouse Gas Emissions

[4] House Bill 94: SECTION 28.(e)  The Environmental Management Commission shall adopt rules to amend)…

[5] House Bill 94: Rules adopted pursuant to this section are not subject to G.S. 150B‑21.8 through G.S. 150B‑21.14.


[7] . . . as described in sub‑sub‑subdivision 3. of sub‑subdivision b. of subdivision (1) of this subsection. . .

I have to stop; I can’t look at this anymore.  My children are currently making their own lunch– and it sounds like it involves raisins, hummus, pomegranate juice, and cupcakes.  I think Elliot taught himself to read yesterday and I’m pretty sure that Zach just washed a load of clothes.

As amazingly self-sufficient as they have been these past few days, it cannot last much longer.  And now I feel obligated to take them to Chuck E Cheese (shudder) to demonstrate my appreciation.

I’m torn because:

1) it’s both fascinating and horrifying to see what a large group of intelligent psychopaths do all day.

2) there is an ah-mazing story arc sitting in all of this, but that would mean abandoning my other one.





NC General Assembly: I See What You Did There, Part 1

North Carolina General Assembly: I see what you did there when you flopped out that abortion bill.    I remain outraged at y’alls audacity, but I’m both easily distracted and naturally suspicious.

Always the multi-tasker, I protested Bill 695 while thinking unladylike thoughts about how I’m being bitch-slapped with my own tax dollars.  As my attention started to drift, I considered:

What other things are they sneaking into legislation?  If abortion restrictions can get tucked into a motorcycle law, what else is hidden under Part 6 of Article 7 in Subsection 16.13b during the forsoothing; the considerating; the amending and retracting.  Was the unprovoked attack on my uterus just a giant red herring designed to distract me (and everyone else) from the bigger issues?

Troll Herring

Thus began 3 days of accessing– the NCGA’s search results return at a rate of a myspace page littered with dancing kittens and background music— and attempting to understand– WORK that Juris Doctorate y’all— the full scope of what’s going on in that gilded chamber.

This is some of what I found.

NCGA I See What You Did There

Filing a new constitutional amendment for the specific purpose and intent of furthering political power of the major two parties while limiting any chance for a third party candidate:  may I present House Bill 436.

The NC State Constitution— quite a read.

May I present House Bill 683— you go ahead and drink a full 2 liter of pepsi with your giant bag of funyuns.    On the surface I can’t identify much overt maliciousness here*, just an inane waste of time and resources.

Hunh, I wonder how many of the recognizable Pepsico’s products don’t make my real-food list, despite being advertised as healthy.   But Pepsico is a NY company so I can’t really find a legislative link— ah, there it is; Pepsi Bottling Venture remains Tarheel powered.

*Of course, NC is an old tobacco state and it’s not as if tobacco companies ever lied about the toxicity of their products.  And there is the whole caveat about getting sick from food in general.  So I can see how this might get twisted.

Or perhaps Senate Bill 638, the new farm act? 

Which I’ll talk more about tomorrow, but includes a brand-spanking new addition (b13- MIGRANT HOUSING) to the building code that provides an:

exemption from any requirements in the fire prevention code for installation of an automatic sprinkler system applicable to buildings meeting all of the following:

 (1) Has one floor.

(2) Meets all requirements of 29 C.F.R. § 1910.142, as amended.

(3) Meets all requirements of Article 19 of Chapter 95 of the General Statutes and rules implementing that Article.

 For purposes of this subsection, “migrant housing” and “migrant” shall be defined as in G.S. 95-223.

Why don’t migrant workers get a sprinkler?

That’s it for tonight.  Tomorrow– Part II, because what’s being done to the environment while hiding behind the attack on our uteri?  Oy.




Legislated Morality

The problem, you see, with legislated morality is that you have to trust your legislators.

You have to agree with their morals.

In the past few days, my morality has been legislated by a lying Pat McCrory. 

Politicians Lie?

Then tonight I happened to be reading Plato (okay, not really- but by the power of Google) when I heard about George Zimmerman.

The Highest Reach of Injustice

I could possibly be less furious about the invocation of Florida’s Stand Your Ground Law getting Zimmerman off; bad law, applied in an impossible situation, right?

But then… then I read about Marissa Alexander, denied protection under the Stand Your Ground Law for shooting at her abusive husband.

Only 435 days after Travyon Martin’s death and the jury sent her to prison for 20 years because Angela Corey, the state attorney

— wait for it–

“I feel like when someone fires a loaded gun inside of a home with two children standing in the direction where the bullet was fired, we have to have tough laws that say you don’t do that.”


Which is about the time I start banging my head against the wall and screaming profanities.








No one else cares, so why should I?

Sometimes disgust and the resulting apathy is the right choice.  Let me explain.

It’s Saturday morning, the youngest kid is throwing a fit* because I won’t let him take a 4 week old bearded dragon on a scooter ride; the oldest kid is quietly sulking**; the husband is zoned out because he’s going out of town in the afternoon***.

*The boys worked for, and earned, the money to purchase two bearded dragons.  I, being the ultimate non-herpetologist chose the cheapest lizards, aka newborns.  Understandably, there were some early adjustment issues; we’ve all since relaxed.

**Apparently he was nervous about his first week of summer camp.

***JB’s out of town trip? To Amsterdam, the land of wooden shoes, delicious chocolate, and diet-breaking cheese of the heavens.  And Amsterdam.

I had grand plans for a day of family fun (who-hoo) that got smashed by negotiations and grocery shopping.  Well, my fun– the three of them went to chuck e cheese, while I wept over being lame.

So I might have started Monday pre-seasoned for bitter.


A week of karate camp for two boys from 8-4? That’s 35 hours of free time.  I had plans, both productive and creative.

Monday morning I started in the hall bathroom, determined to clean up some peeling caulk around the toilet.  I should have known better.

But this happened, causing me to just say fuck it (disgust and apathy).


Having my face inches from someone else’s piss crystals twisted something in my soul.  One of those pivotal, life-altering moments where the crystallized pee shone up into the cloudy sky, a beacon for the ultimate metaphor of wasted time and effort.

So I did this.

Baking Soda Soulmate

I am BFFs with large bags of baking soda.

Followed by this.

Kale Smoothie

Kale Smoothie in 4.3 seconds, thanks to the new blendtec.

And then this.

Baby Bearded Dragons and Kale

Convincing babies to eat pureed green stuff since 2007.

With several versions of this.

Bathing Baby Bearded Dragons

A warm bath for the babies.

And more of this than my kids need to know about.
Baby Bearded Dragons

Then today, on the very last day of my karate-camp vacation?  I did this.

And it was good.

Through Experience

To My Uterus: Happy Not-Independence Day

The NC Senate decide to wrap the uteri of the state’s female citizens in a flag of oppression today by sneaking an anti-abortion bill onto a bill designed to protect naturalized citizens against foreign laws: for example, Sharia law.

Take a moment to really chew on the rancid irony of a pre-Independence Day Christian-law-based amendment shoved into an Anti-Sharia Law.

While you try and identify the flavors bursting on your tongue…

Did you know:

1. that sex education in North Carolina focuses almost entirely on the abstinence for prevention of STDs and unwanted pregnancies?

Check out this gem, quoted from House Bill 694 :

Teaches that a mutually faithful monogamous heterosexual relationship in the context of marriage is the best lifelong means of  avoiding sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV/AIDS.

Only between the lily-white sheets of your marital bed (and oh, they defined that one for us, too) should naked parts touch each other.  If unmarried people touch naked parts they will get herpes and die.

2. Or that an induced abortion is a risk factor for preterm labor in subsequent pregnancies?

State Bill 132 will add the following to G.S.115C‑81:

The instruction program shall include information about the preventable causes of preterm birth, including induced abortion as a cause of preterm birth in subsequent pregnancies.

Other prevention measures like access to affordable prenatal care?  We aren’t worried about that kind of nonsense in NC.

3. No abortions and you’d better hope that that the roulette wheel of genetics and/or the zero information you get about prenatal care doesn’t result in any sort of development delays.  Because if you aren’t sitting at 130% of the federal poverty level, you’ll not be getting any of that state-supported pre-K.  Good luck with affording a private pre-k program.

Oh, and don’t you dare get pregnant then lose your job.  Because we ain’t gonna pay you no unemployment money.

I can’t wait for August’s report:  “In breaking news, McCrory’s administration cut unemployment by a gazillion percent!”  

Must have been all that focus on job creation.  Ahem.

Well, NC lawmakers, Spock is not impressed and neither am I.

NC General Assembly.  Spock is Not Impressed.





Mother’s Day 2013

Mother’s Day, 2013, the sixth year I get this one for my own.

Reading the history of the Mother’s Day holiday in America, understanding the motivation in Julia Ward Howe’s always makes me…rueful.

That this day brings pain to as many people it brings joy hurts my heart in sympathy. It’s hard to watch the giddy folks when you are miserable- whether it be the loss of a child, or a loss of a parent.

I get it. For the many years before I had my own biological distractions, Father’s Day was that holiday for me. Part of my unrepentant selfishness on Mother’s Day has to be the result of how singularly I’ve shifted the focus on Father’s Day from my Dad to Joel.

To my own Mom– the fact that your Mother’s Day card is still upstairs, stampless, does not reflect my love and appreciation. It does reflect my inability to face a post office on a Saturday. And a week full of kid-related obligations, followed by deliberately going in public after stamps made me feel…postal.

So I have carved this holiday into being about me in a way that is slightly tactless.

    JB: “Do you want me to buy that Kindle for Mother’s Day? Or maybe those cowboy boots?”
    Me: “I want the three of you to go away in the morning and not come back until at least 3pm.”
    JB: “But…”
    Me: “No. Really. Y’all have got to get the hell out of here and leave me alone. I need 6 full hours where I can blast my music without explaining why no one should repeat the lyrics. To be silent so the thoughts in my head can escape before they succeed in choking me to death. That’s right, my thoughts are becoming corporeal. Never good, Joel.

I want to “lock” myself in A Fort of My Own, only getting distracted on my own terms. If I have to spend another day* being anyone but Just Stephanie I’m gonna fucking explode.

Sounds a little psychotic, yeah? Perhaps some anger management issues? Meh, I know myself, what I need, and how much I can take before I crack. Just as I have explained the fact that I drip sweat from May to August in this state– letting the toxins out technically makes me healthier.

This morning as I listened to the… nothing… I tried to even make myself feel a little guilty about it.

I’m thrilled to admit I was not successful. And that I laughed way too hard at many of these e-cards.

May this be a guilt-free, peaceful weekend for you all– regardless of how (or if) you celebrate.

*If one of them had woken up sick, I’d have swallowed that bubble for another day, because that’s what you do for those that you love–especially your children. Or if my good friend needs my internet searching skills. These things don’t count.