I feel so bad for you guys.  Here you are, relinquishing the responsibility of birth control 100% to women only to have some slut wind up pregnant and not do what  you want her to do with the pregnancy!  I mean, who wants to wear a condom even if they do offer you guys some protection, personal responsibility, and peace of mind?  Those things are terrible!  Am I right, dudes?  They suck!  It's like fucking a trash bag or washing your feet with your socks on!  Women have so many options, and since we are the ones who can get pregnant it's really our responsibility!  Sure, we ladies bitch about the hormonal rollercoaster and the side effects of things like the pill and IUDs, but it's better than being pregnant.  Ha ha ha!  Thus, we need to suck it up and realize the risk and consequences of pregnancy are 100% ours.  Guys don't have anything to do with it and accept no risk for having sex!  The buck stops there.

But sometimes you poor, hapless men wind up fucking some whore who lied or is stupid about her birth control and gets pregnant!  If that isn't bad enough, she gets all uppity and shit and says she's having an abortion and wants you, the biological father, to pay for half the costs.  What the fuck?!  It's, like, her problem and shit since she can have an abortion without your high-and-mighty male say-so! Let her deal with it herself.  She can cough up the dough and cope with the physical toll of the procedure all by her lonesome since she was all stupid and got pregnant on her own.  You shouldn't have to pay for shit since it's her decision!  Or what if she decided to give it up for adoption without your knowledge?  Shit, you might want that baby.  Sure, she was a sport-fuck, and you never called or saw her again, which means you couldn't possibly know she was pregnant (or, honestly, really cared since you never kept in touch), but she has to check with you first.  Who does that bitch think she is?!  Even worse, sometimes the whore says she wants to keep the baby and tries to sue you for child support for a baby you didn't even want!  Why aren't your needs and wants being considered?!

Oh, right --- because you dudes abdicated your right to your needs and wants when when you refused to wear a condom.  It seems you chose poorly and are now reaping the consequences of those poor choices.  Who knew the slut would want to keep a baby, have an abortion, give it up for adoption, etc?!  Perhaps you guys might want to think about all that before you refuse to wear a condom (or refuse get a vasectomy if you never want kids or don't want MORE kids).  Perhaps you might want to know a little bit more about that chick before you stick it in her, unwrapped.  Every act of penis+vagina sexual intercourse comes with the potential risk of pregnancy: every one, with or without birth control.  Either you acknowledge and choose to mitigate that risk to the best of your abilities, or you accept the consequences, as unsavory as they may be, of abdicating your right to wear a condom.  What I'm trying to say is no man is a hapless victim.  You fellows do have options and choices, just like women do, but too many of you don't exercise them or incorrectly believe it's the woman's problem because men are entitled to risk-free sex by virtue of having a penis instead of a uterus.

To those men who do religiously wear condoms or have gotten a vasectomy, I salute you.  Count yourself as more enlightened and progressive than your stupid whiny contemporaries.  Perhaps you might want to try slapping some sense into them or, at the very least, not coddling them when they start whining about knocking up some chick  who swore she was on the pill.  Your very first question for them should be, "Dude, weren't you wearing a condom?!"  And if the answer is anything other than "yes", feel free to point and laugh at them.

... and scare you into thinking you're going blind.  My eye doctor diagnosed me with "migraine auras".  This is absolutely strange since I have no history of migraines to this point.  I have friends who have horrible, debilitating migraines, though, and they also confirmed they typically see flashy-blinky psychedelic lights prior to getting them.  Wonderful.  They aren't dangerous (supposedly), but I don't relish the thought of getting one of those when I'm driving! Oh well.  I'm somewhat comforted by the fact that I wasn't having a horrible case of Iritis during my latest Behçet's moment.

I asked the doctor what causes the migraines, and he said they still don't really know.  They suspect it's a combination of vascular, stress, and genetics, but they still haven't been able to definitively say it's x or y.  He did say it could be tied to hormonal changes since I'm approaching the age when that really picks up for women, but he can't say that's the only reason.  I called my Mom to ask if anyone in our family had migraines.  The only person we know who had them for certain is my Great-Grandfather.  He suffered from extremely debilitating migraines with auras.  I'm seriously hoping I didn't inherit that shit, but I am recessive gene woman.  I have the complete cocktail of recessive genes in our family, right down to my hair color and eye color.  Go figure.

My eyes are definitely going through age-related changes but are otherwise perfectly healthy.  In addition to being diagnosed with migraine auras, I also left with an updated eyeglass prescription.  I'm getting more nearsighted in my old age.  Bummer.  I'm thinking of going with contacts.  I hate having two pairs of glasses and keeping track of them: prescription sunglasses for daytime and regular glasses for night.  I think contacts will greatly simplify things provided I can wear them.

This has been an exciting week.  I'm having a flare-up with my Behçet's Syndrome in several exciting places at once:  mouth, legs, and, maybe eyes.  Last night around midnight I had a crazy incident with my vision.  It suddenly, out of the blue, went blurry.  I had trouble focusing, and I started seeing crazy, zigzag patterns of flashing light.  I saw these even when I closed my eyes.  Thus, I really couldn't tell you if it was in my right eye or my left eye, though I suspect it was in my left eye.  These lights and the blurriness persisted for about 20-30 minutes before slowly dissipating.  It was sort of like the ripple effect when you toss a rock into a still body of water, starting in the center and slowly moving outward.  This is what makes me think it was my left eye.  By the end of the episode, my peripheral vision on the left had the flashy-blinky psychedelic light show.

Needless to say, I was freaked the hell out.  I've never had anything like that happen to me, even with Behçet's.  I've had inflammation in my eyes, but never a flashy-blink psychedelic light show which blurred my vision.  Add in the fact that my Mom is blind these days, and I was even more freaked out.  I called an eye doctor first thing this morning for an appointment, and the earliest I can see him is 4:30 this afternoon.

I have no idea of what this exciting new development may be.  I hope it's nothing major or anything that will make me blind.  We don't have a family history of detached retinas, macular degeneration, or glaucoma: only diabetic-related eye issues.  Since I'm not yet diabetic, I have no idea of what this is unless it's an exciting new development related to the Behçet's.  It wouldn't surprise me since I'm having other symptoms this week.  *sigh*

Is it any surprise I have a raging headache as well?

Soon, they will be at my house!  I have been approved to get my certification as a Wildlife Rehabilitation Expert.  I'm so very excited.  I'll take my first course at the end of this month and will start with squirrels, opossums, and cottontail rabbits.  Squeeeeee!  Itty-bitty fuzzy things!  Just think; I could have something like THIS at my home in a few weeks:


(Those are the flying squirrel babies who were living in my dryer vent and were removed by a wildlife expert.)

I applied to be a Wildlife Rehabilitation Expert several months ago when I started missing my little piggies.  It just doesn't feel right since my Old Man, Squirrel, died last year.  I'm not quite ready to adopt more animals on a full-time basis, so temporarily attending to little critters who are sick or injured is a good way to fill the void.  My veterinarian (who exclusively deals with exotics) gave me a glowing recommendation, and the Wildlife and Forestry folks like the fact that I have a large property bordering a protected state forest.  They said I'm an ideal candidate for the job.

The wildlife folks will be visiting this weekend to get the lay of the land.  I hope they like what the see.  They said if I have enough land and space they might consider letting me do raptors, which would be amazing.  I've always wanted to work with birds of prey.  I have enough room for an aviary in my side yard and am keeping my fingers crossed!

If you want to know exciting things like who owns a domain, the date the domain was originally registered by that person, and the expiration date of the domain, learn to use one of the free "Who Is" lookup tools on the Internets.  That way, you can ascertain whether or not someone is spewing total bullshit about when a domain was originally purchased.

This has been a public service announcement for people who can't seem to keep their fucking facts straight.

I got my retainer on New Year's Eve, two weeks after my orthodontist removed my braces.  Boy, they are not kidding when they say you have to wear your retainer diligently!  I have an Essix retainer, which looks identical to those newfangled Invisalign braces.  When I put it in for the first time last Thursday it was quite apparent my stubborn teeth had been on the move during their two weeks of freedom.  They were sore within minutes, and the retainer was extremely snug.  However, things have shifted back to the positions achieved immediately after de-bracing, which is a giant relief.  I didn't suffer for 2.5 years to end up where I started.

So, I have instructions to wear my retainer for 12 hours a day through my next appointment in March.  That means I'm retainer-free during the day.  I wear it right after dinner and through the night.  I have a permanent lingual retainer on my lowers.  On one hand, I really like it because I don't have to think about it.  It's there, holding my stubborn pearly whites right where they need to be.  On the other hand, it's a bitch to floss, much like it was with braces.  I need to buy stock in Super Floss because I'll be using that stuff for the rest of my life!

For those of you who are morbidly curious as to why an adult would choose to torture herself with braces, here are my before and after pictures.

BEFORE PICTURES, JUNE 21, 2007

 

FINAL PICTURES, DECEMBER 31, 2009

  

Seeing as how my family wasn't wealthy, I wasn't treated to regular dentist visits as a child, much less orthodontics.  I saw a dentist a total of 3 times in my entire life prior to the age of 33!  Also, when I became older and could afford the dentist, I avoided it for a long time because of a childhood fear.  As a kid, I had a quack dentist who gave me three fillings without making sure I was properly anesthetized.  As such, I associated the dentist with sadism for years.   It's amazing I still have teeth, but I chalk it up to fanatical brushing and flossing. I might not have been able to afford a dentist or had the courage to see one, but I was able to afford toothpaste, toothbrushes, and floss. I only have a few small fillings in the back (3 original silver one from the sadistic quack) and no root canals, caps, or missing teeth despite the lack of professional dental care.  I have all of my original teeth except those pesky wisdom teeth, which were fine except that I really didn't have room for them.

Where was I?  Oh yes!  I had a Lauren-Hutton gap between my two front teeth as a kid, and my quack dentist assured me it would close when I got my wisdom teeth.  He was certain I had enough room for my wisdom teeth.  Well, my wisdom teeth did fully erupt.   I never suffered from impacted wisdom teeth like people who have no room for them.  However, they completely crowded my teeth together, causing the lovely buckling you saw in my "before" photos.  After having all four wisdom teeth yanked in 2006, I went to an orthodontist to see what I could do about fixing the crowding. I was sincerely hoping I was a candidate for Invisalign, but I was informed that I would require traditional braces.  As you can see, my problems were more extensive than just the buckled front teeth.  My bite was absolutely horrid on every level.  Hey, at least the mystery of why I always seemed to pull the whole piece of lettuce out of my sandwich was solved!  ;-)  After hearing the orthodontist's diagnosis, I decided to take the plunge and get braces.

I must say I am ecstatic about the results.  It's really novel to be able to bite into a sandwich and not pull out the entire piece of lettuce or tomato with that bite.  I also love my perfect little arch.  I find myself biting into cheese just to admire it.  :-)  I will wear my retainers every single night for the rest of my live.  I swear!  Also, can you believe I'm a daily coffee drinker?  I always feel my teeth need whitening, but my orthodontist said they don't.  They are whiter in my pictures than I expected them to be.  I don't use any special tooth-whitening products other than a daily ACT rinse.  I alternate brushing with Crest Pro-Health toothpaste and plain old Ivory Bar Soap.  I swear to you that Ivory Soap removes stains and plaque better than almost anything.  That's what I brushed my teeth with as a kid, and I figure it must work so why stop now.

... and then I'll shut up for the time being.  Where in the fuck does everyone get the idea that Mr. Cavyherder and I are rich?  I'm not a millionaire, not even on paper  with everything we own combined: house, cars, stocks, savings, etc.  I, for one, am pretty damn sick of this assumption.  I am not rich. What I am is financially conservative with somewhat decent financial planning skills. However, this month has been nothing but a bunch of fucking people treating us like we are fucking Warren Buffet and Bill Gates.  Apparently, since we have some money in savings and aren't living hand-to-mouth, that means we're loaded and needed to hand over all that hoarded dough to family members and their pet projects.  We have a house and aren't in foreclosure!  We don't have car payments and have nice cars.  (Ignore the fact that I drive a 6-year-old vehicle and Mr. Cavyherder drives an 8-year-old vehicle.)  We own a business!  We just bought a new TV this year.  (Ignore the fact that we were only able to do so because of a generous and unexpected bonus of gift cards to Crutchfield and money from stuff sold on Craigslist.)  We just made improvements to the house.  (Ignore the fact that we saved 11 years to be able to do those improvements and still have a HELOC to pay off.)  We don't have children to support!  All of this is proof that we are wealthy and can give money to everyone who asks for it.  If we don't, we're being Scrooges who could prevent our family's suffering but won't.

I just don't get it.  I was raised to believe that no one is entitled to anything, especially someone else's money or things, even if that someone else is related to you.  Now the very person who taught me this has become one of the people who feel entitled to things from me simply because we're related. Secondly, I was also taught that if someone is generous towards you by sharing what they have, you shouldn't be an abusive dickhead and take their generosity for granted.  What happened to that moral code?

I fucking need a drink:  a big, stiff, intoxicating drink.  Where's my vodka?

I'm grateful for everyone who suggested getting Durable Power of Attorney over my Mom's estate.  I have broached this subject with her several times over the past year only to be met with obstinate resistance.  She's just fine, thank you so much, and doesn't need someone to manage her affairs!  Yes, this is her argument in spite of the fact that her brother has been writing checks for her for the past few months.  Her eyesight has gotten so bad she can hardly see to write well.  Apparently, I'm only suitable for dealing with all of her other legal issues, like arguing with insurance companies and incompetent doctors.  Hands off her money, though!

Unless I can compel her physician to strongly suggest she give someone her financial PoA, I think wrestling PoA from her will be an ordeal.  I'm at the point now where I will only give her money if she can verify she needs it for actual living expenses or medical care, and my Uncle (who lives with her now) must be able to vouch that she hasn't given away her monthly disability income to her church, a charity, a random hobo on the street, etc.  We just had a huge argument regarding this early today which ended with her crying and telling me she didn't appreciate being treated like a child or crazy person.  I told her I didn't appreciate being treated like a fucking money tree or being put in the position where I'm forced to decide whether I want a good relationship with my Mom or a good relationship with my husband.  Ideally, I would like both and can have both provided she gets with the program and stops giving money away to every asshole who extends his hand!

This, of course, devolves into an argument about why I'm this way.  It's because I'm an atheist, and atheists don't care about anyone or anything but themselves.  I worship money, and money is the root of all evil.  It figures that I would be upset because she's trying to do the Christian Thing^TM and help the less fortunate.  If it weren't for her, I would never donate money to anyone at all.  I have no idea of when, where, or how she came up with this fucked-up idea about me, but I suspect it has a lot to do with that cocksucking church she attends.  Also, it's pretty ironic since we often argue about healthcare, with me being in favor of a single-payer system and her screaming about having to pay for free medical care for undeserving lazy welfare scum. Riddle me that one, Batman.

I can't make her understand that I have no problem helping the less fortunate, but I will not be strong-armed into doing it by someone else.  First of all, I don't give to religious charities, and she knows that.  However, by taking money from me and Mr. Cavyherder and donating it to her church, she's practically donating on my behalf to her church.  She knows I hate her fucking church.  For starters, what kind of church preys on a disabled woman on a fixed income?  If you want to discuss evil, selfish people, let's start there, m'kay?  Secondly, I'm sending money to her for her to use because I don't want her starving or going without medicine or going blind if we can prevent it.  I'm not sending money to her so she can give it to her church and then ask for more because she can't pay her bills because she gives everything to that fucking church.  All she hears is, "I hate the church.  I hate god.  I love my money.  I love my money more than you!"

Well, fine, then.  If that's what she thinks, I  can certainly lower myself to live down to her opinion of me.  The gravy train is officially over.  She will not get one more penny from me unless it's on my terms, and my terms now only include need-based items which are unaffordable due to a true shortage of funds, not due to a shortage from giving money away like it's penny candy.  Furthermore, I have told my Uncle that I will only pay the bill directly.  I will no longer do monthly bank account transfers.   Finally, I know exactly what her monthly disability income is.  I want an itemized list of how much it costs her per month for her medicines and co-pays for doctor's visits.  I have a rough idea, but I'm not sure.  I want to know exactly what her monthly expenditures are so I can see how much she is left owing after bills.  I will cover ONLY that difference and not a penny more.

For what it's worth, my Uncle is on my side.  He's been trying to get her to give me or him PoA for the last year, too.  She says she will never make him her PoA because he'll just give her money to his deadbeat ex-step-son and ex-step-daughter and their children.  I, apparently, will just sacrifice it in the name of satan or something.

*sigh*

I just don't know what to do with my Mom. I try to be understanding because I do believe some of her poor judgment is related to her renal failure and strokes. The toxins and lack of blood have to affect the brain. However, Mr. Cavyherder is growing less understanding. We subsidize her only to have her give money away. Actually, he's at the point of saying "No more! Finito!"

Over the past two years she has given away three perfectly good vehicles instead of selling them. She gave the Lincoln Town Car to her crazy fundamentalist church, which they sold for their "building fund." She then bought herself a smaller car because she was driving so far to work everyday. Later, she gave her Jeep Wrangler to my Uncle's ex-step-son when his car died, saying she never used it and didn't need it and wanted him to have it. He never paid a dime for that car despite saying he would. She gave her final car, the Hyundai Sonata, to a long-time friend who works minimum-wage, dead-end jobs and couldn't afford to buy a car after her Kia was repossessed for failure to pay. During this time, she was waiting to hear if she would qualify for Social Security Disability. Her doctors also told her she couldn't drive anymore. Thus, Mr. Cavyherder and I were paying most of her bills. At that time, Mr. Cavyherder was pretty pissed off because she didn't sell the cars to get money to help cover her expenses. However, those were her cars, which she bought and paid for with her own money. We can't very well dictate what she does with them. If she wanted to give them away, well, that's her prerogative. Mr. Cavyherder made it clear, though, that his patience was finite with that kind of bad money management.

Well, she's gone and done something else stupid. She gave over $2000 in donations this Christmas to her church, the Salvation Army, and her local Humane Society. In the same breath, she complains about her medical bills, insurance costs, and lack of money to do anything. As usual, we were sending money. She just had a $20,000 operation in an effort to save her eyesight, and we had to pay for a huge chunk of that since it wasn't covered by insurance or Medicare. As you can imagine, once Mr. Cavyherder found out she gave $2000 away while taking money from us, he understandably went ballistic.  To add injury to insult, we also found out she's bought clothing and school supplies for numerous deadbeats she has met through that fucked-up church of hers.  Everyone has figured out all they need to do is come running to my Mom with some sob story, and she'll open her fucking wallet.

So, now I'm between a rock and a hard place. She's my Mom, and I don't want to think about her not buying medicine she needs or skipping doctor's appointments because she can't pay for them. At the same time, I don't want to piss off my husband by sending money to her for things she can't afford simply because she's giving money away. She's practically a charity case herself! Why the fuck is she giving money away?! I've tried to discuss this with her, and she yells and tells me I can't tell her how to spend her money because she's worked hard all her life and earned every penny she gets in Disability Income. She can spend it however she likes! Furthermore, what kind of selfish assholes are we if we have a problem with her donating money to organizations who help people who can't even afford food or clothes. The Bible says we're supposed to give, even if that means giving the last dime we have.  Besides, she thought we were animal lovers.  Why would we care if she gave $300 to the Humane Society?  It's not like we're hurting for money.  We have jobs, and we still have a house.  Do we know how many people have lost their homes and jobs?  She didn't raise me to be selfish and ungrateful.

Obviously, I can't rationalize with her. She doesn't care that her actions are straining my relationship with Mr. Cavyherder. Yeah, I work and earn money just like Mr. Cavyherder, but as a husband and wife, it's OUR money. There is no my money, his money in a marriage.  We make financial decisions together, and we both have to agree on them.  Secondly, I would be pissed if he were giving money left and right to his breeder sister and brother, so he has every right to be pissed off if I'm giving money to my Mom only to have her give it away while extending her hand to ask for more.

I really don't know what to do.  She absolutely does not seem to care that this is causing problems in my marriage and, in general, stressing me out.  She acts as if she's entitled to money from us simply because she raised me and took care of me as a child.  (She's actually said that to me.)  Now it's my turn to take care of her, apparently, at whatever cost: my marriage, my bank account, my sanity.

Happy fucking New Year to me.  Being an only child blows.

It's the real "reason for the season", not religious mumbo-jumbo, be it pagan, christian, or otherwise.  This is the day to celebrate the intricate workings of our solar system and the universe at large and just how far we've come in understanding them.  Science and reason: now those are things worth celebrating. And with that public service announcement, I'm off to celebrate my wedding anniversary.  That's right; I was married on the Winter Solstice.  Happy Winter, everyone (as of 12:47PM EST today)!

Today, after 2.5 years, I got my braces removed. Woo-hoo! I'm so excited, and my teeth look amazing. I can't believe they're my teeth.  For once in my life they are straight and don't have gaps and overlaps.  The best part is eating things I couldn't for the past 2 years.  You have no idea of how much you miss nuts or popcorn until you can't have it.  My orthodontist gives all newly debanded patients a goody bag containing fresh popcorn, peanuts, and chewy candies like Tootsie Rolls and taffy.  She also includes a bottle of champagne for her adult patients, which is totally awesome.  She's an awesome orthodontist and is childfree herself.  If you're in my area and are thinking of getting braces, she's the one to see.

In other news, Mr. Cavyherder stood his ground with his mother and refused to budge on our $200 budget for his sister's holiday present.  Not only did he not reimburse his mother the $700, but he sent a check directly to his sister for $200.  She promptly bought her own vacuum, which was only $150 even though she got a model with a HEPA filter, pet-hair remover, and a lift-off canister.  She used the extra $50 to buy a Dust Buster.  Needless to say, when we told my bitch mother-in-law that we were not sending her a $700 check, she retrieved the $700 Dyson from her daughter.  At first she said she would keep it for herself, but her house doesn't have any carpet.  According to my sister-in-law, she's going to try to return it even though it was used.  Maybe I'm evil, but I'm kinda hoping they only offer her a store credit or a different vacuum instead of a full refund.

In addition, Mr. Cavyherder gave his mother the riot act on the phone last night for sending my blind mother books and pictures for the holidays.  He was totally pissed because she sent him an email weeks ago asking what my Mom wanted, and I told him exactly what Mom told me: audiobooks by James Patterson or a donation to either her local Humane Society or the Salvation Army.  He relayed that to his bitch mother, and she promptly ignored him and did exactly what she wanted to do.  We found out when my Mom called yesterday to say she had received a package from my mother-in-law but couldn't make out who was in the pictures and definitely couldn't read the book since it was a paperback with normal-size print.  The pictures are of her grandbrats, of course, but Mr. Cavyherder was livid.  He immediately called his mother, put her on speaker phone, and asked her if Mongoloidism ran in the family because he couldn't think of another reason except mental retardation for sending my blind mother books and pictures of kids she doesn't even know.  Naturally, that made his mother cry and say, "Stop yelling at me!  I didn't know."  That's a lie, of course, since he sent her an email explicitly stating my Mom can't see anymore.  Then his idiotic brother jumped into the act and called today to bitch at Mr. Cavyherder for making their mother cry when "she was only trying to be nice."   Mr. Cavyherder cussed him out, too.

So, those issues have been resolved.  It probably isn't very nice of me to be thrilled that Mr. Cavyherder had to bitch-slap his mother and brother, but I am.  It's been a loooooooooooooooong time coming.

So far I'm having a crappy fucking week. It started when I read some story about idiots cutting down a rare tree in an arboretum for Christmas and went downhill from there.

For starters, Mr. Cavyherder had a moment of stupidity and told his crazy family to buy a new vacuum for his sister for a holiday present and send us the bill. He did this because his bitch mother has been calling us daily and whining about all the things his poor, poor sister needs now that she's pregnant with another unplanned kid she can't afford. He failed to put a price limit on the vacuum but was thinking of spending no more than $200. He was convinced they wouldn't take advantage of our generosity and buy something extravagant, and I honestly think he believed vacuums couldn't possibly cost more than $200. What happens next? Why, my cunt MIL runs right out and buys a $700 Dyson canister vacuum and takes it to his sister.

I'm absolutely livid. I'm trying to convince Mr. Cavyherder to send his bitch mother a check for $200 and nothing more, but he thinks she will stick his sister and brother-in-law with the $500 difference even though she is the one who bought the vacuum without his sister's knowledge or approval. They claim they cannot return the vacuum because his sister used it before she knew how expensive it was. Meanwhile, his sister claims her bitch mother bought the vacuum without her, so she had no idea it cost $700 and would not have bought that vacuum herself. She says she definitely cannot afford the $500 difference.

Mr. Cavyherder is trying to no avail to reason with his mother. She acts like this is totally not a problem or, if it is a problem, it's our problem because we're rich and just being selfish. They need a $700 vacuum with a HEPA filter because they think their 3-year-old has allergies. We can afford it because we have good jobs. His sister and brother-in-law work 3 jobs between the two of them. Bitch mother-in-law isn't going to pay the $500 difference even if this is her fault because she already bought an expensive new crib for the baking loaf. So, they've already gotten a present from her. The vacuum is supposed to be our gift for them.

I am resigned to the fact that my idiot husband will probably give them the full $700. I'm still pissed off, though, because this means precedent has been set. Now they will bug the ever-living shit out of us all the time wanting us to buy stuff for them. It was bad enough when we didn't buy stuff for them. Give us a down payment for a house we can't afford. We need furniture. Pay for me to patent some stupid idea. Contribute to my kid's college fund because you have money and we don't. We get shit like that all the time from his brother (who has a brat) and his mother (on behalf of his sister). To her credit, his sister hasn't asked us for anything since we declined to give them a down payment for a house or co-sign on a car a few years ago. It's always his cunt mother pushing the Entitlebreeder agenda.

Finally, I'm just really tired of all the religious shit which is shoved down my throat at this time of year. I am sick of being forced to endure crappy religious Christmas music every time I leave the house. The cherry on top is that the fundies are trying to remove an atheist in Asheville from his newly elected position. The real irony is that it's a former NAACP leader spearheading the lawsuit. Discriminating against black people is wrong, but discriminating against an atheist is just fine. The douche heading this movement believes in Gawd, you see, and has a real problem with anyone who doesn't. Hey, douche. Guess what. There are people out there who believe black people are inferior, and they, too, have a real problem with anyone who doesn't! Why don't you call them for advice? Hypocrisy. You has it!

This particular Dilbert strip tickled my funny bone far too much based on my experiences with people like Ted. ROTFLMAO!






Ah, memories of people and experiences I wish I could forget but can't because of my crazy elephant-like memory. Thus, I suppose I'll just have to be amused by them. I'm sure that strip isn't half as funny to other people as it is to me. ;-)

The remnants of Hurricane Ida have turned into a Nor' Easter, bringing high, cold winds and gloomy weather to my little corner of the world. Some areas have lost power, and I fear I might be next. The lights have been blinking all day, and all it takes is one downed tree in my neighborhood. In anticipation of a romantic dinner by candlelight in front of the fireplace, I've broken out my dutch oven and am preparing a hearty wine-based beef stew for dinner. The bonus is that I get to drink the rest of the wine because I only need a cup for my stew. And if the power goes out, I can always move the dutch oven to the wood-burning fireplace and finish cooking.

Cheers! Stay warm and dry, everyone. I can't believe it already feels like winter here.

Last week I had to take a trip to Kentucky, center of excitement.  It wasn't all work and no play, though.  I did get to visit a bourbon distillery: my favorite bourbon, Woodford Reserve.  I learned why it is probably my favorite bourbon too.  I'm a big fan of Irish Whiskey, and Woodford Reserve is the only distillery which triple-distills the bourbon in giant copper pot stills.  Irish Whiskey is distilled in the same manner.  Who knew that my bourbon tastes could be so specific!



So how does John Malkovich fit into this?  Well, they are currently filming Secretariat  in Lexington, KY, and John Malkovich was staying at my hotel!  I was sitting in the hotel bar one evening, having a flight of bourbons, and I was sitting right next to him and Kevin Connolly.  I was totally unaware that it was John Malkovich until my bartender kindly informed me that the nice older gentleman who was impressed with my bourbon-drinking abilities was a famous movie star.   I also didn't recognize Kevin Connolly.  He's apparently a big star on the show Entourage, but I don't watch that show.  Thus, I was absolutely clueless to the fact that I was joking with two famous Hollywood types about my lady-like preference for drinking my bourbon neat.  The director was also there, showing still from the movie to the bartenders on his laptop.  I hear Diane Lane is also in the movie, but she wasn't staying at my hotel.  She was slumming across the street at the Embassy Suites.  LOL!

No, I didn't take any pictures of Kevin or John.  First of all, I didn't have my camera with me at the bar, and the camera on my Samsung Juke cellphone is pathetic.  Secondly, I have a no-photo policy when it comes to famous people unless they volunteer first.  I figure they are probably sick and tired of having cameras shoved in their faces 24/7 or being photographed and annoyed while trying to eat dinner or have a drink.  I just drank my bourbon and had a great time chatting with them, one human being to another.  As John left to go back to his room later that evening, another bar patron ran after him to get his autograph, stopping him at the elevator.  He was very gracious about it, but damn - I just can't imagine that being a part of my everyday life!

So, that was my excitement last week: bourbon and John Malkovich.  As a bonus, I now know I also really enjoy Eagle Rare 17 bourbon, thanks to that flight at my hotel bar.  I also feel compelled to see Secretariat when it is released.  You know, because I was there!

Damn you to hell with your enticing 40% off special fall preview shopping day for BR Members!  You knew it would lure me to the store and that I would be enamored with all of the jewel-toned items for fall.  A silk blouse in a luscious deep ruby color?  SOLD!  A  trouser-cut dress pant that feels like a comfy pair of jeans, meaning I'll also wear it on the weekends?  SOLD!

*sigh*

I shouldn't complain.  Usually I get these special promotional discounts only to to and find the store littered with blah pastel items that make me look like a rotten Easter Egg.  It's one of the reasons I look forward to the Fall shopping season: better color selections for people who look good in jewel tones.

It is an auspicious date.  Today I had my HSG confirmation test, and...

I'M OFFICIALLY STERILE!

I'm so excited, and I think it's hilarious that I got confirmation on this date.  I've read numerous articles in the past week about Bridezillas getting married today because of the date and Breedzillas scheduling C-sections because of the date.  In contrast, I didn't plan this.  It's entirely coincidental since the 3-month, post-Essure HSG test is scheduled around your menstrual cycle.  It just so happens that mine made 09/09/09 the best day for the test.  However, I'm not complaining!  I think it's so cool to have 09/09/09 as my sterility anniversary date.  I'm not superstitious or a believer in numerology, but 9 has always been lucky for me.  I also just like the aesthetics of the number: curvy!  Furthermore, I get an extra-big chuckle out of the fact that it's 06/06/06 upside down, confirming to everyone that I'm an evil Selfish Heathen for real.  That's right, breeders!  I'm an eeeeeeevil child-hater.  Bwahahahahahahaha!

I can't wait to get copies of the x-rays.  I did see the whole procedure on a screen while they were doing it, though, and the radiologist confirmed that everything is blocked and good to go.  It's very neat to see your uterus and the Essure coils.  As a bonus, I had absolutely no difficulty at all with the x-ray procedure: no pain, no cramps, no discomfort.  The worst part was the cold implements.  Ladies, you know what I mean.  So, if you are thinking of Essure or have had Essure and dread the HSG test, don't be afraid.  I thought it was a total breeze.

Mr. Cavyherder and I are going out tonight to paint the town red and celebrate.  I'm also planning my official I'm-NOT-having-a-baby shower.  I think I'll hold it in October, near my birthday, and make it a two-fer.

This is probably the singular best piece of advice my Mother gave me. She insisted that many people mistake need for love, often to their own detriment. She was guilty of doing it herself, and it's part of the reason she found herself married to a 38 year-old-man at 18 and pregnant by the time she was 19 years old. Obviously, she was attracted to my Dad on some level, but she admits that her overwhelming need to get away from home drove her straight into marriage at an early age. (My Grandfather was a binge-drinking alcoholic who became argumentative and violent when he drank. Cherokee people can't handle liquor, and Grandpa was no exception.)

I'm pondering this because I recently read a bizarre and telling statement on a blog. No, I don't troll MOO blogs. I read many craft and thrifty home decorating blogs because I like to decorate on the cheap. Most of those blogs are written by people with kids. Most of them are also Believers, so the blogs can be ripe with Kodak-moment fantasies and Praise-Gawd crap, but I try to look past it and read the useful stuff. However, this post stopped me dead in my tracks and made me think:


This is one of the most common talking points used by breeders who try to convince me that I'm not fully human or will never understand "true love." Their children smile at them, and it's unconditional love I will never appreciate or know until I have children. If I don't accept that "gift", I am sub-human and not a real adult.

Excuse the fuck out of me, but that is NOT unconditional love. That is need. Your infant and children look at you like you are the center of the universe because they need you. Without you, they cannot take care of themselves. They need you to feed them, clothe them, provide shelter, and help them navigate the world until they are old enough to stand on their own. They are wholly dependent upon you for survival!  This is not love.  This is necessity.  The squirrels look at me every morning as if I'm the Queen of the Universe because I am the bringer of bird seed.  I know humans like to think they are superior and shit, but it's the same thing.  The squirrels worship me because I feed them.  Your children worship you for the same basic reason: survival.

However, many breeders mistake it for unconditional love from their children.  They have children to fill some vacuum in their own existence.  "I want someone to love me unconditionally, and my children do that!"  Then they insist they have a lock on true love and understanding the human experience solely because they take care of a child they created, which is an obligation of parents everywhere.  It isn't LOVE.  Futhermore, women are flooded with a dose of hormones which engender feelings of love and protection towards their children.  If they didn't, most of them would probably kill them after a week of no sleep, shitty diapers, and constant tit-feeding!  That "love" is a biological response.  It is not magical or sacred or better than love between two adults.

Yet breeders denigrate the love I have for my husband or friends.  My husband does not need me, and I don't need him.  If he died tomorrow I could still take care of myself, and he could do the same if I died.  I choose to be with him, and I do honestly love him, warts and all.  I would willingly die for him, and this loyalty and feeling isn't the product of necessity or biology.  It is a product of free will.  At the same time, I do love my mother.  However, I would say that I didn't truly love her and appreciate her until I was self-supporting.  At the point where I was living on my own and didn't need her, I could honestly assess how I felt about her and concluded that I loved her.  She's a good person.  She has flaws just like anyone, but the good outweighs the bad.  Some other people were unfortunately born to parents who are not good people, and they find themselves with no love for them by the time they reach adulthood.  Thus, this sacred, special, holier-than-thou "child-parent love" is not so special or unconditional after all.  It's probably not even love but a biological imperative for survival on the part of both parties.

So, breeders who read this, think about that the next time you say something smarmy like "Oh, you don't know REAL love until you have a child" to someone who doesn't want children.  The simple fact is that you don't know real love, either, because that worshipful look in your kids' eyes is about survival, not love.

After 11 years in my home, I finally own an actual dining room table. 

Mr. Cavyherder and I lived in apartments, bouncing around the country during graduate school, jobs, etc. and never bothered to buy a dining table.  When we purchased our first home, we never bought a dining table because we have a peninsula in the kitchen.   We just bought some counter stools and ate most of our meals there.  Of course, it was tricky if we had guests because the peninsula only seats two comfortably, but most of our guests seemed to visit when the weather was nice.  We could eat outside on the veranda.  Strangely enough, we have a very nice table on our veranda.  Priorities! On the rare occasions that it wasn't nice enough to eat on the veranda, we managed to cram four people around the peninsula, but it was far from comfortable or ideal.  Our dining area was our workout room; I couldn't even use a folding card table.  It used to house the elliptical, weight bench, and weights, but I recently moved all of that into the guest bedroom.

Anyway, I was in the midst of listing more of my own items on Craigslist yesterday and saw a listing for a gorgeous gathering table.  For those who don't know, a gathering table is a counter-height table.  It's not as formal as a dining room table, but it's not as informal as a pub table.  It's somewhere inbetween those two.  The particular table in the Craigslist ad was an extremely expensive table by Bernhardt furniture: solid pin-cherry wood (looks antique), huge carved legs, self-storing butterfly leaf, seats 8 when expanded to a 60" x 60" square table (6 when not).  They sell the same table in High Point, NC at Furnitureland South for $1200, not including the chairs which are $600+ each.  The online posting listed the table for $350, no chairs.  I didn't need the chairs; I already have counter-height chairs for our peninsula.  Thus, I quickly called the contact in the listing to see if I could look at it.  I guess I was first in line.  He said he still had it and that I could look at it last night.  I was thrilled to see that it was in excellent condition.  It looked hardly used at all.  The owner said it had belonged to his mother who recently passed away at the age of 92.  She only had the table a couple of years before she died.  He already had a formal dining room set, and he didn't want to keep the table despite how expensive it was.  He also didn't have counter-height chairs for it.  Sadly, it was too large to fit in my car. The owner was a trooper, though, and really wanted to sell that table because he loaded it into his minivan and followed me home.  He and Mr. Cavyherder even tried to move all 200 pounds of it into the house.  Alas, they didn't quite succeed.  It takes a woman's touch.  We had to remove the doors and puzzle it into the house.  I did say it's a big, heavy table!   The dimensions made it challenging.  However, it's now in my dining room, looking absolutely stunning.


I still can't believe I got a $1200 table for only $350.  WIN!  Craigslist is the way to go if you need furniture but don't want to pay a fortune.  Sure, there is a lot of crap on there, but there are some hidden gems if you're willing to look.  This guy was selling most of his mother's estate on Craigslist, and it was just serendipity that I saw this table.