Tantrum vs protest

“A protest is a peaceful objection to a grievance, a bunch of sore losers occupying a space, is called a tantrum…”

I have been diligent about staying out of the political arena for these past several months and especially now that most people seem to be losing their minds over the outcome. I completely disagree with protesters thinking they are allowed to damage private property or police vehicles without being held responsible for their actions.

So for posterity sake only, purely for myself, when I get older, gray hair, losing my mind and want to see how either the president-elect pulled it together and rocked it or completely fell apart and brought us into a living hell – I have set up this link to remind myself how I was feeling (give or take) a week after the election:

Tantrum not a protest

You may agree or disagree, or even stop following me, but I am not losing hope nor pretend to predict the future – it looks like a drastic change for the next four years, let’s all hope for the best because…..

“WANTING HIM TO FAIL IS LIKE WANTING THE PILOT TO CRASH THE PLANE THAT WE ALL ARE ON” – – (good analogy and not my words)

Let’s face it, we didn’t have much to choose from. Many people agree that if the Dems had chosen Sanders against Trump the outcome would have been much different. I tend to agree with those sentiments.

The love-hate relationship with October

philip

I love Halloween, it is my favorite holiday EVER, period. However, it is also the most painful month too.

Gone too soon, only 21 years old for a few months… I am reposting this because of the 33 yrs anniversary:

It is with great displeasure that I write this post. What I wouldn’t give to have my brother back these 30+ years. To see whom he would have married, his children, his choices in life. But instead he chose one of the most unselfish ways to spend his short time here among us, he joined the Army and became an elite Ranger. Consequently he was killed during the second wave in a very small town, on a very small Caribbean island called Grenada, giving coverage to many American medical students forced to return home during a hostile political event.

A devastating time for my parents; to be told you will never see your child again, to never say good bye one last time, to say I Love You one last time. It’s one of those things we take for granted I think, saying I love you, taking for granted you will see or talk to the person tomorrow and remember ‘next time we talk’. Even saying it in passing is great to hear, but not quite the same as if you knew it would be the very last time…the very last time… heart breaking, devastating, it goes beyond that. There is just no word for the amount of empty left behind.

He was just a great person, not because he is no longer here and fond memories can sometimes overshadow the bad times, he was truly one of those people who would go out of his way for you to make sure you were happy, to help if he could, a kind and gentle soul and so very funny. He loved music, was artistic, and put up with his kid sister always tagging along when he just wanted to hang with his friends.

Ah, his friends, they were bountiful and from so many different crowds; neighborhood, school, church, sports, he fit into all the groups with ease because there were so many different levels of him to love. I could go on for pages giving him accolades, and all would be true, but I won’t.

Recently I have been given the opportunity to have him, and his unit, honored for years to come as I have been requested to submit his picture (shown above) to the National Museum, United States Army for a permanent exhibit in their halls. How proud we of him, how much we miss him every day, how I would give anything to change that day and have him back.

Operation Urgent Fury

Operation Urgent Fury

#MemorialDay

Chess anyone?

chess

What do students do in between classes that would make the average person’s brain melt? Why play an excruciating game of chess of course!

These pieces are about hip high when you stand next to them. There has yet to be a day when I walk by this board just outside the ‘yahd’ where I do not find several students challenging one another.

Naturally, I am the lazy brain taking the photo and not engaged in the battle for the queen.

(Side note: how interesting that unlike other cities, these pieces have not been stolen nor has the board been ‘tagged’ in any way! Gives me small hope for civilization in the states….)

Quirky habits are not finger licking good

We all have quirky habits, and typically we don’t even know about them until they are brought to our attention. Case in point: apparently with every bite of food I take, I tap the utensil thrice (not once, not twice… but thrice…you saw that coming right?) before bringing it to my mouth. I was completely oblivious to this fact until my very astute boyfriend brought it to my attention.  I caught myself doing it and realized it was a subconscious effort to keep any droplets or loose food from falling off my utensil while on its way up to my pie hole.

Some may find that endearing while others may want to stab themselves in the eye with a rusty fork; to each his own.

Quirky habit of my boyfriend which I find completely hysterical and endearing at the same time is watching him flip out when he sees someone lick their fingers before separating the plastic grocery bags or better yet when the food prep person licks their fingers to separate the sheets before placing a sandwich on it. He completely loses his mind, looks me straight in the eye and says, ‘why don’t they just spit directly on my food, it’s the same God damn thing’….only this goes on for about 10 minutes as I try to hold back my laughter and sympathize at the same time. He has an excellent point it just doesn’t bother me the same way.

plastic bag

Have a nice day? Not if you lick your fingers before touching my grocery bag!

This post is in response to the prompt of the day:

Quirk of Habit

Which quirky habit annoys you the most, and what quirky habit do you love — in yourself, or others

Honk, Beep, Meep and the Like

honk

I am a honking kind of girl; I give my car horn a workout daily. I want to be sure it will be in top condition should an ‘emergency’ ever arise. If I am not supposed to use it, why issue one in every vehicle, right?

Some people frown on honking as it brings attention to them, but really, isn’t that the point?

I give a honk if I am waving you through in front of me and it takes more than three of my hand waves to get your butt in gear. I am trying to be gracious and now you have made my arm ache… go already!

I give a honk if I have to wait more than 8 seconds at a green light and you are hopelessly staring at the light as if expecting a personal invitation be handed to you that it is safe to continue on your mind-numbing journey of life.

If you let me pass in front of you, I give the hand wave of thanks and a quick honk just to be sure you know I recognize your generosity. In these parts, if you don’t give the hand-wave-of-thanks you get the WTF buddy?!! Geeze you are welcome!! And then we take our anger out on the next innocent driver…so do society a solid and just give a quick wave of thanks. Even a half hand wave is acceptable.

If I see geese, turkey, or deer (pretty much any animal) look precariously from the side of the road as if they want to cross to see what is on the other side of the road, they get the honk to warn them to “back up buddy it is not safe, try again later”

Most importantly you will most definitely…without a doubt…get a honk, if, as in this past weekend for example, you are pulling out of the parking garage, stop and park just on the other side of the wooden arm, have everyone in the vehicle get out and change seats (no it was not one of those juvenile fire drills) and then have a discussion at the driver’s door about how the day was. People, there is a line forming behind you and by the looks of it, you are incapable of driving and talking at the same time, otherwise why would you be standing next to the vehicle? HONK!!

And then have the 20-something garage attendant school me on not using my horn because it was not an emergency!!? Oh no you di-int!! Since when does it have to be an emergency to use the horn? He obviously lives in a small town where honking is viewed as a nuisance not the vehicle’s voice. I didn’t give the long foghorn blast, just a quick honk to state; hurry it up ladies we are not getting any younger here and the world does not revolve around YOU.

Are YOU a honk, meep, beep type of person or the recipient of my honking??

 

50 Ways to Give the Finger: #9 – The Casual Drive-By Finger

This is now incorporated into the DMV guidebook in ‘driving etiquette’. The drive-by finger is must, otherwise you will be eaten alive as ‘prey’ and left for road kill.

NOTES FROM THE BATHROOM FLOOR

The Casual Drive-By Finger This variant of the I Don’t Even Have Time For This Finger is best delivered with a wry smile. Here’s your opportunity to incorporate the power of the automobile into a dismissive Fuck You. The finger is held steady from the driver’s side window as you give the horn a couple of soft toots for emphasis.

What the Casual Drive-By Finger communicates to the recipient: I’ve got better places to go and don’t care to spend another moment in the vicinity of your sorry ass. Hope you have a nice day choking on my dust, fucker!

When to use it: Provided you are confident that the recipient is unable to catch you (either because he/she is stuck in traffic or traveling on foot) , and you’re in your car and have a clear path with steady terrain in front of you, the Casual Drive-By Finger is all yours to administer at will…

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Ambitchous….

poster

There is a fine line between a woman ‘standing up for herself’ and being a ‘bitch’. I have yet to find that line but I am sure it exists; more often than not, I get the ‘bitch’ label. For those of you that have said it to my face (on many occasions), you can agree that my response has always been, and will always be: stop kissing up.

I have to say that my super-cranky reaction to a situation is just that; a reaction. I am by no means searching out scenarios in which to wield my highly explosive intolerance for stupidity.

The first (and most repetitive interaction) typically involves me waiting in line and getting cut off, as though I have hit my ‘stealth button’ and instantly became invisible. The millisecond response from me is always an unwaivering, ‘are you kidding me?!”  For some reason that seems to startle the offender and wakes them up to the fact that they are no longer on their lonely planet of “I” and must abide by the simple rules of society and it’s strongly recommended guidelines of ‘wait your friggin turn’.

There are times where adults are not pointing out their children’s misbehaving and I have to take things into my own hands. Example: at a college open house for Goose, potential students (17-18 yrs) and their parents are sitting in an amphitheater getting the background on the school and what they offer, finances, etc. and the three young miscreants with their mother were talking loudly and laughing throughout the whole seminar. It was not until the continuously full-blown kicking of my chair, did I spin my head faster than Regan from the Exorcist, and gave my, “are you kidding me??!!” to which the young men horrified, stood up and said they would wait outside. Good call because next comes the pea soup vomit while talking in tongues and no one wants that.

Other times, a good friend needs to have that certain someone on their side, that friend with a bit more bravado then they do. So… while in a Chinese restaurant with my friend (we will call her Shrink because she is one) and her boyfriend were sitting at a crowded bar, I hear a woman complaining to her boyfriend that Shrink is being loud and obnoxious. Really? We are sitting three people away in a packed bar and the only voice you can hear is Shrink laughing and telling stories. Hold the phone and call Oscar Goldman because a new Jaime Sommers is in town! (that’s a late 70’s reference for you kiddos) but I digress. I walked over to her and called her out on it, citing the fact that it’s a loud bar and there is no way she should be calling my friend names without provocation. As she turned to her boyfriend and started to curse about me, I kindly noted that I was not using profanity in any way and name calling wasn’t necessary… just apologize to my friend. The boyfriend stood up (a good 6 inches taller than me) and became aggressive to which I stood my ground and said that he was not part of the conversation, I was talking to his foul mouthed girlfriend. He then called me a bitch (yes I had to say, stop kissing up, it’s a natural reaction) and then he poked me in the shoulder a few times. I nicely reminded him that unwanted poking is considered assault and that seemed to warrant him screaming me a few other choice words but stopped the poking. No better way to show your pea-sized brain than to scream profanities; boring, yawn, over it.

So you see, I have been mislabeled and misunderstood my whole life. I will not be walked on or overlooked. I demand as much space in this world as the big jerks that seem to be taking over.

(P.S. if you know to whom I owe credit for this awesome intro picture please let me know!)