I am the Destroyer of Worlds. Everything I touch is ruin; my delight. Nothing is safe. No one is safe.
I am the Puppet Master. Everyone is under my domain. I pull the strings. My bidding is Law.
I am the Evil Stepmother. I rend families assunder for my own petty and twisted gain.
I am the Pied Piper. I lead the gulible for the smallest slight; I bring only death.
I and the Evil Stepsister. Jealousy is my guide. Your destruction is my birthright.
I am the Wolf. I bide my time. I wisper from the wings. I prowl and wait and watch.
I am Flagg. I cannot be destroyed.
I am Grendell's Mother.
I am O'Brien.
I am Cthulhu.
I am Sauron.
I am Judas.
I am Midas.
Do not mess with me.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Something's Been Bugging Me Lately
I know, it's such a surprise that I get bugged by something. ;)
I've been seeing a lot of, "Christmas isn't About Commercialism" and similar statements out there. While I agree with that statement: Christmas is, traditionally, a religious holiday, it seems to me to be an oversimplified and somewhat brutish way of saying, "I don't want to buy crap for my friends and family. I will make this seem noble."
The Meaning of Christmas:
In the Christian religion, Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ. It is commonly recognized that the day is inconsistent with what religious historians believe to be the actual birthday of Christ, however, most agree that the date is irrelevant, it's the celebration that matters. Since Christ is the central figure in Christianity, (I apologize for the over use of this phrase) Christ is reason for the season. A child, born low, who would save us all. Kind of sounds like a holiday made up by Joss Whedon, no?
For Anyone Who Wants to Argue With Me:
Yes, I know that many of the traditions such as the tree, holly and the yule log were adopted by Christianity from pagan religions. It does not detract from the fact that what we call Christmas is a christian holiday. If what you are celebrating is not a christian holiday, then call it the solstice or whatever you want, it's not Christmas.
Also, If you're not christian and still celebrate the holiday, that is fine. But I will not hear any argument about the standard meaning of it.
Now That the Meaning is Established, How Does One Celebrate?:
There are many traditions for celebration of the holiday, like the above mentioned tree, yule log, big dinners, holly, mistletoe, etc. There's also all the gift giving traditions. There's Santa Claus, the three Wise Men, and one of my favorites, La Befana. There's many more as well.
Let's start with the Magi. They brought the Christ child gifts for his birth. Many Christians feel that giving gifts to loved ones reflects the gifts brought to Christ; a small reenactment of the original Christmas, if you will. In many Latin countries the Magi still bring gifts to children. In Puerto Rico, the children cut grass for the the Magi's camels. The Magi are the devout givers.
Then there's Santa, Saint Nicolas originally. He's the patron saint of children, among other things, and was known for leaving secret gifts, like coins to good girls and boys. So basically he's the original gift card giver; lazy SOB.
Then my fav! La Befana, who distributes gifts to good girls and boys out of guilt or craziness, depending on what version you hear. Basically the Magi invited her to go with them but she said she was too busy, then changes her mind and wants to go with them but can't find them so she gives gifts to all the kids. She's the guilt giver. (I can really identify with her, I always have a back up gift just in case I forgot someone.)
What's the common theme? GIVING GIFTS! No that doesn't mean you need to spend a fortune or go into debt or even turn gift giving into some sort of high stakes competition. But gift giving is a central part of the holiday, it celebrates the first Christmas, it celebrates the children you love, it celebrates everyone who is special to you. Especially kids.., you should give and give to kids.
Did you notice that all the the mythological gift givers weren't expecting much in return? Neither should you. If you're giving gifts with an expectation of reciprocation you need to reevaluate your life; yes, your whole life.
Did you notice that the only expectation of the mythological gift givers was "Good"?
Gifts should represent your esteem for the person to whom you're giving it. Does that mean you need to go spend a bunch of money? No, you could just make something, or give the gift of your time (and that's free, your time isn't worth crap and you know it) or talents.
Gift giving isn't commercialism. Gift giving is love, kindness, charity. What's so commercial about that?
Stop being a cheapskate and start giving gifts you smelly hipster.
I've been seeing a lot of, "Christmas isn't About Commercialism" and similar statements out there. While I agree with that statement: Christmas is, traditionally, a religious holiday, it seems to me to be an oversimplified and somewhat brutish way of saying, "I don't want to buy crap for my friends and family. I will make this seem noble."
The Meaning of Christmas:
In the Christian religion, Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ. It is commonly recognized that the day is inconsistent with what religious historians believe to be the actual birthday of Christ, however, most agree that the date is irrelevant, it's the celebration that matters. Since Christ is the central figure in Christianity, (I apologize for the over use of this phrase) Christ is reason for the season. A child, born low, who would save us all. Kind of sounds like a holiday made up by Joss Whedon, no?
For Anyone Who Wants to Argue With Me:
Yes, I know that many of the traditions such as the tree, holly and the yule log were adopted by Christianity from pagan religions. It does not detract from the fact that what we call Christmas is a christian holiday. If what you are celebrating is not a christian holiday, then call it the solstice or whatever you want, it's not Christmas.
Also, If you're not christian and still celebrate the holiday, that is fine. But I will not hear any argument about the standard meaning of it.
Now That the Meaning is Established, How Does One Celebrate?:
There are many traditions for celebration of the holiday, like the above mentioned tree, yule log, big dinners, holly, mistletoe, etc. There's also all the gift giving traditions. There's Santa Claus, the three Wise Men, and one of my favorites, La Befana. There's many more as well.
Let's start with the Magi. They brought the Christ child gifts for his birth. Many Christians feel that giving gifts to loved ones reflects the gifts brought to Christ; a small reenactment of the original Christmas, if you will. In many Latin countries the Magi still bring gifts to children. In Puerto Rico, the children cut grass for the the Magi's camels. The Magi are the devout givers.
Then there's Santa, Saint Nicolas originally. He's the patron saint of children, among other things, and was known for leaving secret gifts, like coins to good girls and boys. So basically he's the original gift card giver; lazy SOB.
Then my fav! La Befana, who distributes gifts to good girls and boys out of guilt or craziness, depending on what version you hear. Basically the Magi invited her to go with them but she said she was too busy, then changes her mind and wants to go with them but can't find them so she gives gifts to all the kids. She's the guilt giver. (I can really identify with her, I always have a back up gift just in case I forgot someone.)
What's the common theme? GIVING GIFTS! No that doesn't mean you need to spend a fortune or go into debt or even turn gift giving into some sort of high stakes competition. But gift giving is a central part of the holiday, it celebrates the first Christmas, it celebrates the children you love, it celebrates everyone who is special to you. Especially kids.., you should give and give to kids.
Did you notice that all the the mythological gift givers weren't expecting much in return? Neither should you. If you're giving gifts with an expectation of reciprocation you need to reevaluate your life; yes, your whole life.
Did you notice that the only expectation of the mythological gift givers was "Good"?
Gifts should represent your esteem for the person to whom you're giving it. Does that mean you need to go spend a bunch of money? No, you could just make something, or give the gift of your time (and that's free, your time isn't worth crap and you know it) or talents.
Gift giving isn't commercialism. Gift giving is love, kindness, charity. What's so commercial about that?
Stop being a cheapskate and start giving gifts you smelly hipster.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Learn How to Do It Right or Hire a Professional, Jerk - Friday Freak Out
Hey Home-Do-It-Yourself-er,
Do you think that "enter room name here" needs a new coat of paint?
Or perhaps just a nice new layer of wallpaper?
How about some lovely tile accents?
Hey HDIY'er,
Do you have a rough idea of what needs to be done to accomplish your goal?
Is your motto, "Hey, how hard can it be"?
Do you think edging tape and drop cloths are for pussies?
Well here's the real score Jackwad. I, the person cleaning up your mess in my house, will hunt you down and cut off your thumbs so you can never pick up a tube of caulk or paint brush ever again.
Hey HDIY'er, Guess what? Caulk is not an all purpose adhesive. It's not meant to adhere tile to anything. It is not meant to seal the edges of wallpaper. In fact, it's not meant to put wallpaper up at all, much less in a bathroom where it will allow mold growth behind that wallpaper. I formally revoke your Home Depot privileges.
Here's another hot tip for you Dillweed: you should never wallpaper over wallpaper.
Guess where paint shouldn't go Brainiac? On hinges and over screws or nails. It makes it impossible to pull the nails out, unscrew screws, and hinges? Forget it. Paint doesn't go all over everything that will hold still for you.
Guess what painters tape is for Captain Incompetent? Taping off things your don't want paint to be on. And you know what else? Drop cloth keeps paint from getting all over the floor, genius.
Thanks for making my bathroom a war zone, Jerk who owned this house before us. Thanks for making what should have been a two day project something that took weeks.
I hope your arms rot off at the shoulder.
Do you think that "enter room name here" needs a new coat of paint?
Or perhaps just a nice new layer of wallpaper?
How about some lovely tile accents?
Hey HDIY'er,
Do you have a rough idea of what needs to be done to accomplish your goal?
Is your motto, "Hey, how hard can it be"?
Do you think edging tape and drop cloths are for pussies?
Well here's the real score Jackwad. I, the person cleaning up your mess in my house, will hunt you down and cut off your thumbs so you can never pick up a tube of caulk or paint brush ever again.
Hey HDIY'er, Guess what? Caulk is not an all purpose adhesive. It's not meant to adhere tile to anything. It is not meant to seal the edges of wallpaper. In fact, it's not meant to put wallpaper up at all, much less in a bathroom where it will allow mold growth behind that wallpaper. I formally revoke your Home Depot privileges.
Here's another hot tip for you Dillweed: you should never wallpaper over wallpaper.
Guess where paint shouldn't go Brainiac? On hinges and over screws or nails. It makes it impossible to pull the nails out, unscrew screws, and hinges? Forget it. Paint doesn't go all over everything that will hold still for you.
Guess what painters tape is for Captain Incompetent? Taping off things your don't want paint to be on. And you know what else? Drop cloth keeps paint from getting all over the floor, genius.
Thanks for making my bathroom a war zone, Jerk who owned this house before us. Thanks for making what should have been a two day project something that took weeks.
I hope your arms rot off at the shoulder.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Wacky Wednesday Wig Out of Ostentatious Overtness
Hee hee.., get it? WWWOOO!!!!!
So my Mom (Hi Mom) pointed out that I didn't blog last Friday for Friday Freak Out. You know what I have to say to that? I was busy! I didn't feel like it! You can't tell me what to do! Pppppbbbbttttt!!!!!!!!
My mother and I have a very mature relationship.
So my planned topic was about Fabric. But really it's about fabric stores.
I've been shopping this week for some fabrics for baby quilts. My cousin and his wife are having twins! Girls! YAY! This is momentous as it's been nothing but boys for years. Don't get me wrong, I adore my nephews and find that the toys I get to buy them are much cooler than the girl toys. But frilly girly dresses and hair bows and pink! Finally!
It is so hard to pick out fabric! There are entirely too many adorable pink baby fabrics to choose from. I know infinite choices are the American Way but come on!
Not to mention the stores. They're terrible in so many ways. There's the true fabric stores, have lots choices. They're usually well established. They were opened when that neighborhood was a nice middle class kind of place but now it's not. So these kinds of stores range from Staff Does a Subtle Double Take When White Girl Walks In to I Need to Keep a Line of Sight on My Car at All Times. Then there's the mass market fabric-and-crafts stores that only have enough fabric so they can keep it in their description. They really make their money on all the scrapbookers and people who think they're going to make it big selling bead necklaces on Etsy.
At the established fabric stores I get asked at least once, by every staff member, if I need help. When I browse for more than ten minutes, they do a lot of "fly-by's" like I'm going to somehow shoplift a bolt of cloth. And what am I suppose to say to these people when they ask me if I need help? "Uh yes, can you please decide between the little birdies and the funny monkeys for me?"
At the mass market stores it's the complete opposite. While I enjoy shopping with no interruption, if I actually make a fabric selection and would like to purchase said fabric it's like I asked them to do my trig homework. That's if I can find anyone in the first place. So they roll out the fabric to measure with much eye rolling and obvious sighing. I'm truly sorry you only make minimum wage and hate your job, but could you please just give me my fabric without the tantrum?
Then there's spoonflower, which I adore because I don't need to deal with people to shop for fabric but Jeebus they're expensive!
It's all pretty much a no-win situation.
So my Mom (Hi Mom) pointed out that I didn't blog last Friday for Friday Freak Out. You know what I have to say to that? I was busy! I didn't feel like it! You can't tell me what to do! Pppppbbbbttttt!!!!!!!!
My mother and I have a very mature relationship.
So my planned topic was about Fabric. But really it's about fabric stores.
I've been shopping this week for some fabrics for baby quilts. My cousin and his wife are having twins! Girls! YAY! This is momentous as it's been nothing but boys for years. Don't get me wrong, I adore my nephews and find that the toys I get to buy them are much cooler than the girl toys. But frilly girly dresses and hair bows and pink! Finally!
It is so hard to pick out fabric! There are entirely too many adorable pink baby fabrics to choose from. I know infinite choices are the American Way but come on!
Not to mention the stores. They're terrible in so many ways. There's the true fabric stores, have lots choices. They're usually well established. They were opened when that neighborhood was a nice middle class kind of place but now it's not. So these kinds of stores range from Staff Does a Subtle Double Take When White Girl Walks In to I Need to Keep a Line of Sight on My Car at All Times. Then there's the mass market fabric-and-crafts stores that only have enough fabric so they can keep it in their description. They really make their money on all the scrapbookers and people who think they're going to make it big selling bead necklaces on Etsy.
At the established fabric stores I get asked at least once, by every staff member, if I need help. When I browse for more than ten minutes, they do a lot of "fly-by's" like I'm going to somehow shoplift a bolt of cloth. And what am I suppose to say to these people when they ask me if I need help? "Uh yes, can you please decide between the little birdies and the funny monkeys for me?"
At the mass market stores it's the complete opposite. While I enjoy shopping with no interruption, if I actually make a fabric selection and would like to purchase said fabric it's like I asked them to do my trig homework. That's if I can find anyone in the first place. So they roll out the fabric to measure with much eye rolling and obvious sighing. I'm truly sorry you only make minimum wage and hate your job, but could you please just give me my fabric without the tantrum?
Then there's spoonflower, which I adore because I don't need to deal with people to shop for fabric but Jeebus they're expensive!
It's all pretty much a no-win situation.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
I Hate You Decatur Kauffman Tire - Friday Freak Out
The first part of my freak out this week: I spelled a word right/incorrectly last week. Yes, you read correctly, I wanted to write about the brakes on my car this week, but I wrote breaks. That's a correct spelling but not the right word. I will not be talking about my amazing DJ-ing. I will not be talking about injuries of my bones.., I've never, in fact, broken a bone. I will not be talking about a repeated psycological lapse. I will not be talking about the fifteen minutes the state of Georgia says that I cannot work during for the every 5.75 hours that I do work.
I will be talking about the brakes on my car.
Back in July of this year, July! Stupid Kauffman Tire replaced my front brake pads. A few days later I'm driving on the highway and my front passanager tire almost fell off. I mean really almost fell off. When I got to a safe place to stop I had only two lug nuts left on that side and they were both loose.
Stupid Kauffman Tire should feel really lucky that I didn't just call a lawyer right then and there. Instead, I called JP (Husband and all around awesome dude) and screamed and wispered and cried (and told people who asked me if I needed help to "go to hell") all while pulling out my tire iron and tightening/redistributing my remaining lug nuts. Then I figure out that they must have lost two of my other nug nuts and just replaced them with different ones because two of the lug nuts no longer fit my tire iron.
JP took my car back to Stupid Kauffman Tire because he was scared of what might have happened if I took it myself. They replaced the lug nuts and fixed the plastic-y looking thing that was sticking out of my brake.
Last week we took my car back because the brakes were making a squeally, grindy, thunky noise. In this interum time, I barely drove my car because I was scared of it. It took them almost 24 hours to call me. TWENTY FOUR HOURS. And they said that they looked it over and couldn't find anything wrong.
WHAT!?!
When we went to pick up my car the guy re-itterated that they couldn't find a problem, that they had their "expert" look at it and maybe I should come back when someone else was there. I don't know how this other person could possibly figure out the quantum algorithm of squeally brakes better than their "expert" but ok.
And to top it all off, when I drove my car home the noise was almost non-existant. So either they fixed the problem with dumb luck by actually doing something right for once or they realized they messed up my car, fixed it, and didn't admit to it.
I swear if anything else goes wrong with my car I'm going to bap the manager of the Decatur Stupid Kauffman Tire on his big stupid balding ugly head. Can I tell you how ugly this guy is? He is, as stated earlier, balding and his head is too big. Also he has a beer gut and a what appears to be permanent ogre-like sneer on his stupid face that is on his over sized male-pattern-baldness head. In fact I would call him an ogre but he's not tall enough. He's short, fat, bobble-headed, balding, sneering and he has sub-par intelligence.
And with all this trouble, not once did ugly Shrek manager talk to me. Maybe he can't. Maybe he's using his three remaining brain cells to remember how to sneer.
***Next Week: Fabric!***
I will be talking about the brakes on my car.
Back in July of this year, July! Stupid Kauffman Tire replaced my front brake pads. A few days later I'm driving on the highway and my front passanager tire almost fell off. I mean really almost fell off. When I got to a safe place to stop I had only two lug nuts left on that side and they were both loose.
Stupid Kauffman Tire should feel really lucky that I didn't just call a lawyer right then and there. Instead, I called JP (Husband and all around awesome dude) and screamed and wispered and cried (and told people who asked me if I needed help to "go to hell") all while pulling out my tire iron and tightening/redistributing my remaining lug nuts. Then I figure out that they must have lost two of my other nug nuts and just replaced them with different ones because two of the lug nuts no longer fit my tire iron.
JP took my car back to Stupid Kauffman Tire because he was scared of what might have happened if I took it myself. They replaced the lug nuts and fixed the plastic-y looking thing that was sticking out of my brake.
Last week we took my car back because the brakes were making a squeally, grindy, thunky noise. In this interum time, I barely drove my car because I was scared of it. It took them almost 24 hours to call me. TWENTY FOUR HOURS. And they said that they looked it over and couldn't find anything wrong.
WHAT!?!
When we went to pick up my car the guy re-itterated that they couldn't find a problem, that they had their "expert" look at it and maybe I should come back when someone else was there. I don't know how this other person could possibly figure out the quantum algorithm of squeally brakes better than their "expert" but ok.
And to top it all off, when I drove my car home the noise was almost non-existant. So either they fixed the problem with dumb luck by actually doing something right for once or they realized they messed up my car, fixed it, and didn't admit to it.
I swear if anything else goes wrong with my car I'm going to bap the manager of the Decatur Stupid Kauffman Tire on his big stupid balding ugly head. Can I tell you how ugly this guy is? He is, as stated earlier, balding and his head is too big. Also he has a beer gut and a what appears to be permanent ogre-like sneer on his stupid face that is on his over sized male-pattern-baldness head. In fact I would call him an ogre but he's not tall enough. He's short, fat, bobble-headed, balding, sneering and he has sub-par intelligence.
And with all this trouble, not once did ugly Shrek manager talk to me. Maybe he can't. Maybe he's using his three remaining brain cells to remember how to sneer.
***Next Week: Fabric!***
Friday, October 15, 2010
OMG, So Much, So Much. - Freak Out Friday
So first, I'd like to apologize about not posting last Friday, I was busy getting ready to get married and all so.., yeah.
Before my freak out, here are some of my favorite photos from the wedding:
*Pic of me with JP (Husband and all around awesome dude) and his family at the rehearsal dinner.
*Pic of me with JP (Husband and all around awesome dude) at the wedding.
*The kiss.
*After cutting the cake.
*After the wedding, at the Drive Invasion.
These are just a few of the hundreds of photos of the wedding. And we haven't even gotten the official photos yet.
Which brings me to the first freak out. I never want another photo taken of me ever again! My face still hurts from having to smile all day on Sunday. Yes, I understand that I was the bride, that it was a special day and all that crap but seriously.
Also, I'm done with hugging for the next year. I got a lot of hugs from the family of course but I was also getting hugs from people I didn't really know. So many hugs, from everywhere, every time I turned around. I'm not really a fan of hugging. In fact, I really don't like to have people touch me at all. So spending the day getting physically molested buy over a hundred people while grinning like a loon; not my idea of a great time.
Oh, and did I tell you that I woke up at 4:30am for no reason that morning? Longest. Day. Ever.
Fortunately we have wonderful friends and family who handle much of the wedding stuff so that we had time to be accosted by everyone for photos and inappropriate bodily contact. Also my bridesmaids are the best people ever who kept me supplied with coffee and make-up touch-ups and also snuck me upstairs when I got overwhelmed by the number or people I was surrounded by.
I also have a wonderful husband who whisked me away to dinner and then Popsicles; exactly what I needed.
***Next week: my breaks.***
Before my freak out, here are some of my favorite photos from the wedding:
*Pic of me with JP (Husband and all around awesome dude) and his family at the rehearsal dinner.
*Pic of me with JP (Husband and all around awesome dude) at the wedding.
*The kiss.
*After cutting the cake.
*After the wedding, at the Drive Invasion.
These are just a few of the hundreds of photos of the wedding. And we haven't even gotten the official photos yet.
Which brings me to the first freak out. I never want another photo taken of me ever again! My face still hurts from having to smile all day on Sunday. Yes, I understand that I was the bride, that it was a special day and all that crap but seriously.
Also, I'm done with hugging for the next year. I got a lot of hugs from the family of course but I was also getting hugs from people I didn't really know. So many hugs, from everywhere, every time I turned around. I'm not really a fan of hugging. In fact, I really don't like to have people touch me at all. So spending the day getting physically molested buy over a hundred people while grinning like a loon; not my idea of a great time.
Oh, and did I tell you that I woke up at 4:30am for no reason that morning? Longest. Day. Ever.
Fortunately we have wonderful friends and family who handle much of the wedding stuff so that we had time to be accosted by everyone for photos and inappropriate bodily contact. Also my bridesmaids are the best people ever who kept me supplied with coffee and make-up touch-ups and also snuck me upstairs when I got overwhelmed by the number or people I was surrounded by.
I also have a wonderful husband who whisked me away to dinner and then Popsicles; exactly what I needed.
***Next week: my breaks.***
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)