To each his own. To me my own.


Is it Springtime yet?

I’ve already grown weary of winter. Winter months are hard, and those who know me already know I’m not a fan of anything difficult.

If you’re still reading this, you’re probably aware that this will be a rant post. Hey, we all need one now and then. With that said, I’ll proceed to touch on a few of the reasons why I abhor hate dislike the season.

  • All the extra required clothing, resulting in more laundry. Additionally, more clothes give the illusion of more pounds. Hate.
  • I must wear socks. I hate socks. More importantly, my feet hate socks. And any accompanying enclosed shoes.
  • Staying up longer at night to make sure that last log is in fact extinguished results in Bon getting less sleep. This is not a good thing.
  • Everything looks bare naked and dead. That’s because it is. For several months.
  • My car is happy in cool weather – but hates freezing temperatures. It’s not unusual for my key locks and/or door jams to freeze, resulting in me being late for work.
  • Lotion up. Now, lotion up once more. Wait, we’re not done here – dammit the lotion bottle’s empty again.
  • Dear Sun, how I adore thee. But alas, our time together seems to have been cut in half. I am pale. I mean like Edward Cullen pale. The forecast calls for even more pale.

When torrential rain gets thrown into the mix (over three-inches-expected-in-one-day torrential) it turns from aggravating to disastrous. Like when you let your puppy out to poo and he decides to find a hidden spot in the yard to dig while in said torrential rain.

photo 2

Yep, I’ll be late for work again. 


Badge of honor

Saturday night, we enjoyed a nice fish camp dinner out with the family. Located a mere two feet from the entrance doors of the restaurant and parallel to the long line of waiting patrons, were tables set up to harbor the mothers little girls selling girl scout cookies.

The whole ‘mothers pushing sales’ thing touches a tender spot with me and it’s not a sweet one. If I’ve never addressed the subject before, humor me in seizing this little opportunity to do so.

On Sunday morning we headed out for breakfast and our weekly trip to the market. Lo and behold, more tables were set up approximately four feet from the entrance/exit doors of Bi-lo. FYI, Keith is very well-aware of this little ‘peeve’ I have and is ever-gracious in his endeavor to take my elbow and guide me within a safe proximity around them accommodate me. As we approached, two women sat posed theatrically behind the tables. Their girls, each six years old or less, were running around looking like they’d rather be picking clovers in a grassy field.

Mother #1: (whispering) “Go ahead, ask her…”
Munchkin #1: “ummmm, would you like to buy some Girl Scout cook ––”
Me (as Rooney Mara in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo):No.

That was easy enough, I thought as we proceeded to walk in the store. We shopped, we bought, we paid, we go to leave. Actually – scratch that last one.

There, standing smack in front of the exit doors, in true ‘twins from The Shining‘ fashion, are munchkins 1 & 2. I purposely stepped on the mat to open the door, forcing them to move back. Mother #2 was completely disengaged as she sat cross-legged on the ground designing a campaign poster (seriously guys, I can’t make this shit up).

Mother #1 (again): “Go on, ask if they want to buy some.”
Munchkin #1 (again): “Would you like to buy some Girl Sc ––”
Me, to Mother #1 (as Linda Blair in The Exorcist): NOOOOOOOO!!

Didn’t add thanks afterward, didn’t pass Go, didn’t collect a bleeping $200, didn’t earn an Oscar. Now, for those of you who may call me a grinch, curmudgeon, or any other creative schmuck that comes to mind – so be it. Take solace in the fact that this was mom #1’s lucky day! It stands to reason that had there not been children present, my mouth surely would have chosen to take the road less traveled.

Being a girl scout was the only thing I was really involved in as a kid – and I loved it. Having been raised in a single-parent household, scouting was one of the few activities that was actually affordable. I learned that being a scout was just as competitive as other extracurricular activities like cheerleading, dance, music or sports – but this knowledge didn’t help me to understand why. Even then, those and other sought-after badges were very difficult to earn – I never did get one and believe me I tried. I can only imagine how much harder it is now due to the competing nature of mothers who opt to Occupy Walmart or Bi-Lo in a heroic effort to earn it for their daughters. Let’s fast-forward to my own kid, who I’ve witnessed endure many of the same trials and tribulations through years of hard work in playing sports.

Certain ‘perks’ and ‘opportunities’ are afforded to a few of every batch of kids as a result of extraordinary parental ‘involvement’ (aka, ass-kissing). There, I said it. Not only have I lived it – I’ve watched it. I’ve seen the tears of disappointment as a result of yanked opportunities that she knew in her heart she’d worked hard for and deserved. Chances that instead were handed to a kid whose parent’s head was so far up the coach’s ass they couldn’t tell where they ended and the coach began. I view this competitiveness no differently than I view those freakazoid pageant moms. Meh.

All done in the name of a trophy, a ribbon, a metal, a plaque or as the case may be… a badge. Call me curmudgeon if you will. I’ll NOT be one to justify these self-serving acts which always result in a child somewhere feeling less than just as good as anyone else. I guess some things will never change.

Sir and Ma’am… please and thank you.

It seems like the days are few and far between now when we hear these words used.

Have you ever been present when someone actually takes offense to being called sir or ma’am? Sometimes a person reacts so strongly that they make you feel like you did something wrong. In my experience, most have been female. A while back I heard a woman react horribly to a young lad for simply being courteous. “I’ll have you know I am not old enough to be a ma’am, young man!” she retorted. The boy looked crushed and didn’t know what to say to her. I’ll never forget how hard it was to resist kicking her teeth in at that very moment. With one swipe of her sharp tongue, she successfully crapped on ten years of respectful upbringing. At the very least, she planted doubt in the method.

I call a female ma’am. I’ll call a gentleman sir. It’s not just a southern thing. Sometimes they’re older than me – sometimes they’re younger. I don’t and won’t ever consider it a slam. You see, to me it’s not about age at all – just plain old respect.

How about the kids today? Okay, not all, just most. At least the ones in my city, USA. GIMMIE!!!! NOW!!!! Hey kid… a please will likely get you that lollipop you’re screaming so loudly for in Cracker Barrel. And not if but when your parent gives in and buys you that thing you’re screaming for – how about a thank you? And whatever happened to excuse me? Excuse me’s come more in the form of an eye-roll nowadays. Yeah, you get my drift –  all these words are grossly underused. Sadly enough, manners are simply becoming a thing of the past.

Come to think of it, I think we just might benefit from a Sir/Ma’am/Please/Thank You/Excuse Me University. Starting at Pre-K.

Yes sir. Errr, ma’am

It’s the Little Things… that get discontinued

It really is the little things in life that I appreciate the most and seem to please me to no end. Bear with me on this for just a minute.

When I find something I really like, I stick with it. No use fixing something that’s not broken, I always say – take for instance my anti-bac. For years now, I’ve been an avid user of the ‘waterless’ smell-good foaming pump anti-bac by Bath and Body Works.  (Note empty bottle to right.) This little 3″ smell-good pump generally lasts me around six months, for which I generally have backups on-hand when the time comes to replace.

Except this time.

So off I go to hit the local Bath and Body Works store on the way home from work… with the addition of my custom BBW Bon-Blinders so I may leave the store with only the anti-bac and nothing else additional.

Now where oh where is my foaming anti-bac? I noticed the newfangled little pocket gel-pacs that require lots of shaking, squeezing and patience to get anything out of… but not my easy little one-squirt smell-good pump. To my dismay, the saleslady informed me they were discontinued, then even proceeded to knock the ‘old’ product by saying ‘they leaked’. I told her in all my years of using, one had never leaked on me. So go knock on my product with someone else, lady.

I went home, checked their website and ended up ordering a slew of them online. Gotta love that online ordering! Mind you, I will have more than several ‘backups’ on hand once they arrive… all lined up in a smell-good rainbow-colored array.

It’s the law of Bon, I swear… if I like something, it will be discontinued. My favorite brand of Clinique foundation fell victim just last month. Prior to that, my favorite Lean Cuisine meal.

Hey Bon, would you like some cheese with that whine??

Gentle Breeze

I’ve been slammed at work the past couple of days which I know is a good thing – although it’s not so much my normal production work, it’s those challenges that come around every so often that make my head hurt. I know, all the better to keep the old brain sharpened. The icing on the cake just came when our payables person just told us our pay will be deposited a day late, for reason of the Veteran’s Day holiday. Amazing. Some people do actually still live paycheck to paycheck, and what a difference one damn day can make in such a case.

We’re going to try to get to the coast this weekend. It’s still in the dream stages right now as no lodging has been reserved, but a big dream nonetheless. To feel the ocean breeze in my face… well it just sounds heavenly.

Here’s to Wednesdays, and the fact that it’s 5 o’clock somewhere.


Current Cravings

It seems to be my “I want” day, so please forgive beforehand. We all need one every now and then.

  • I crave the sight and sound of ocean waves.
  • I crave the mountains, and valleys.
  • I crave love. I really really crave massive amounts of love.
  • I crave Spring. Already.
  • I crave a whole lot of honesty.
  • I crave a world where you hand a cashier currency and she doesn’t have to mark the bill to make sure it’s real.
  • I crave knowledge… particularly of what the future holds.
  • I crave the scent of coconut and vanilla arising from a warm tropical setting.
  • I crave for there to be no more hunger for anyone in the world ever again.
  • I crave a pay raise.
  • I crave some doggie lovin’.
  • I crave wearing high heels again. Minus the pain.
  • I crave sunlight on my face.
  • I crave a long uninterrupted night of sleep.
  • I crave music.
  • I crave financial comfortability. Not riches, just maybe to be able to loosen the old chest muscles a bit.
  • I crave spirituality.
  • I crave lunch.
  • I crave being on the water.
  • I crave writing.
  • I crave being in a relationship that never ends.

Come to think of it, maybe I should’ve done a bucket list instead.


I feel the need to rant today, because… well I don’t really have any other material. So welcome to Life of Bon – Curmudgeon at Large.

My flowers... had to post... ♥

The boyfriend and I went out for Mexican last night at our favorite little local restaurant. We noticed as soon as we walked in that the place was dead – both inside and outside on the deck. Seeing as how the weather was so very balmy, we decided to dine outside on the huge covered deck.

A sweet little guy brings out the chips, K orders his usual stout mug of beer, and I a nice glass of merlot. The sky is a Carolina blue outside, it’s warm, and the company is beyond excellent. Beer is cold, wine is perfectly tempered, salsa is hot…

Life is good.

Enter couple with two screaming kids, who are ushered out onto the deck and promptly seated at the table directly behind us. Not at another end, not a couple of tables down even, but less than a foot behind me at the very table that backed ours. Before I continue, let me clarify that I DO NOT hate small children. NOR was it these people’s fault that they were seated where they were.

What I AM saying is the restaurant staff should know to insert at least a little space between two different sets of people with totally different scenarios…

Setting One: A couple, obviously not married, no wedding rings; in love nonetheless, once again obvious from their holding hands across the alcoholic beverage-adorned table. From the way the two are gazing at each other, they could quite possibly be the only ones existing within their own little world.

Setting Two: A couple, very obviously married from flash of wedding rings, arguing loudly while walking to their table; she with huge diaper bag over shoulder of one arm, toddler in the other, he with larger kid in tow – all proceeding to light up the entire existence with their extra-amplified voices. Birds outside are scurrying to take flight before the earthquake ensues.

Again, not their fault they were seated where they were seated. We proceed to try and continue enjoying our dinner out, when lo and behold – another thunderous approach. This new “group” has four, count ’em four, kids that resemble stair steps. The one being carried by Daddy is already crying and proceeds to whine and cry the entire dinner. So just where do these kind patrons get seated? This time, how about the table directly beside us.

At this point, nothing would have surprised us. Or so I thought.

Within the next ten minutes (our food hadn’t even arrived yet) two more sets of people with kids were ushered in (or should I say out?) and seated – ALL within the only ‘general vicinity’ that was left around us. We were now completely surrounded. At this point, we’re both feeling as out of place as a hunter might feel onstage at a PETA gathering. It was surely hilarious by this point – but the hilarity of it all was cut short due to a little girl seated at the table directly ahead of us falling backwards out of her chair. Everyone froze after hearing the sound of her head hitting the floor. You know that delayed reaction with kids when they have to *inhale gasp* in order to get their breath before the initial screams escape? Hers lasted about 10 whole seconds. She ended up being okay, and even played it up later by grinning at us as she ‘limped’ off the deck when leaving. (Hey kid, I thought you hit your head?)

Where’s the Tylenol. And Tequila.


In this game of life, there are some things which we have control over, and some we don’t. We can choose to be kind and compassionate to people, or we can be nasty and vile. We can choose to help our neighbors, or we can hinder or block the good deeds of others. We can choose to ‘do the right thing’ – or we can attempt to break those around us.

So how do you handle a miserable existence of an individual who is so delusionally obsessed over your life and that of your loved one, that it’s become their sole objective to infiltrate it in any way possible? An individual who recruits their own family members and friends to aid in their own juvenile schemes? An individual who is greatly influencing their child with their deception and lack of moral character? I believe that this lone corrupt individual must be left to bask in their own self-destruction. I choose to neither feed nor lend energy to this hateful, dark, putrid excuse for a human being.

Because some things never change.

So I’ll tell you how I handle it. I choose happiness. My drama cup shall remain empty. I’ve made it this far, and believe me when I say I ain’t going back. I choose that bright light that our Lord promises and provides, free of charge – for any of us who are willing to receive it.


No one likes a person that constantly complains. I like to refer to them as ‘downers’, because let’s face it – unless it’s done in humorous fashion, it does bring you down. Sometimes though, you just need to get things off your chest. Things you might normally let slide or roll off your back on a daily basis can mount up and come out in a very bad way if you don’t unload every once in a while.

So, gentle readers, be forewarned that today will be my bitch day. Hey… I’ve done a ‘things I love’ blog before. It’s only fitting that I have a ‘things I hate’ one…

  • I hate running across people I call ‘provers’. These people basically need to have whatever you tell them proven right then in order to believe you.
  • I hate when I say something about a restaurant that I went to the night before, and a downer is listening and informs me that they don’t have any food in their cabinets.
  • I hate when I pay extra for a Marie Callendar’s frozen entree for lunch, and the contents ends up being smaller than that of a Lean Cuisine or Healthy Choice.
  • I hate the fact that apparently I’m the only person at work that has the expertise of changing a toilet paper roll. I’ve tested this theory several different ways on many occasions.
  • I hate when a stranger 20+ years your elder brazenly uses their age as an excuse to advance ahead of you – and I’m not just talking about lines.
  • I hate when a guy believes certain chores are not made for them to do.
  • I hate when a guy postpones vacationing, even a simple 2-day beach trip – then suggests tagging along with his mother for the weekend on her trip.
  • (Red flag)
  • I hate when a guy suggests hopping on your cellphone plan, and you blog about how much that bothered you – then the next night he tells you he’s hopping on his mother’s plan.
  • (Dark red flag)
  • I hate when normal grooming habits are forgotten or ignored. Everyone I mean everyone knows how I feel about this. Enough said.
  • I hate when an otherwise enjoyable trip to a local Japanese steakhouse is thwarted by patrons who believe your space should include their conversations and children.
  • I hate when my financial situation is prejudged by another, as in “you should be doing okay now that your car is paid off”.
  • I hate when people have trouble addressing a problem and end up just letting it go without confronting and/or attempting to fix it.
  • This list will most definitely be continued at a later date. Until then… thank you, dear readers, for the unload.

Soul Sucker

Ever since I cancelled my cable, I tend to stay behind on the Hollywood news. I’m well aware that some people think it’s silly to keep up with famous people anyway – but it’s more of a curiousity to me, the ability to see how the ‘other half’ lives.

The Mel Gibson telephone conversations with his wife – I just ran across a few of the audio recordings online. Oh. My. God.

To say this ‘man’ has serious, serious, serious problems would have to be the understatement of the decade. In my opinion, Ms. Grigorieva did the right thing by acquiring a restraining order before it was too late. Say what you will about her secretly taping him… I personally think she did the right thing. The whole situation, left as-is, surely would have resulted in tragedy. Given his fame and social status, she likely would’ve had problems proving that her very own life, and that of her child, was in danger.

It’s obvious there is no arguing with him – simply listening to the recordings is proof enough the rational is just not there. Something is so definitely amiss here… I’m no psych doctor, but I am able to recognize that little factoid all the way from Hollywood over to the east coast. Ranting and yelling until he’s hoarse; cursing, lewdness – he leaves no stone unturned. No area unchartered. Beats her right down to a pulp. Yells that she deserves a bat to the head, that he’ll bury her in the garden. On another audio, he admitted hitting her in the face with their baby on her lap, even breaking her teeth. You needn’t see any video to hear the sneer in his voice when he boldly yelled that she deserved it.

And guess who’s to blame? That’s right, folks. It’s all her fault. Amazing, isn’t it? From start to finish, she’s to blame – the fact that his career is over, that he has no friends, literally everything.

You cannot argue with a person who possesses that ‘something’ in their brain which causes them to act – and react – like this. I shuddered the entire time I listened to this, because it beared such a striking similarity of the many instances which occurred in my old life. Instances that up until recently I was embarrassed to even speak of. I haven’t had to witness this type of violent behavior in years, and hearing it again tonight brought it all back. I so despised the sinking wave of weakness it brought over me. For the entire eight minutes of audio, I felt as though I was inside her – sitting there with no voice, once again powerless. Beaten. Broken. Reduced to nothing, yet again.

Have a listen for yourself. This is only one of the releases, to date there are four – all equally as disturbing. Be forewarned – if you’re offended by ‘mature’ language you may want to skip this one. To be quite honest… it was his whole violent demeanor that got to me. Bad.

Link to Mel Gibson telephone “conversation”… one of four.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

If you or someone you know is in a situation of domestic violence, please get help.
There ARE people who CARE.
For the love of God, yourself, your children – DON’T stay and become a statistic…
these numbers are growing daily.

Click here for link to National Domestic Violence 24-hr Hotline.


I recently received an email entitled “Courage”. It got me to thinking. What exactly is courage? Furthermore, what about the courage to love?

Fairy tales? No such thing. Forever afters? Hac-tuiii. Pardonne moi….

I have to laugh to keep from crying, more. For the past couple of days my face has resembled something monstrous and I’m growing weary of it. Quite simply, my heart is breaking. Right now I just feel like retreating inside my cave for, well forever.

The Courage to Love. I’ve always been a firm believer of the old saying ‘If you love something, set it free – if it comes back to you, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.’ Well… up to a point, anyway. One should never go so far as to allow their selves to become a doormat for anyone else.

I guess I’m old fashioned, I’ll admit that. I am southern, after all. I’ve never been one of these feminists who mandate equality of the sexes, and never will. It’s my belief that women shouldn’t ‘chase’ men – it should be the other way around. I also believe that if a man loves a woman enough… I mean really loves them… they won’t let her go without a fight. They’ll  do anything and everything to keep her – anything less than that simply isn’t real. Call it what you will – it’s an illusion. Don’t fool yourself. Life’s too short.

Hey, self – remember this: I Myself, will NOT… break. Already been through Hell and back once – and I ain’t planning a return trip anytime soon.

Venus and Mars, perspectively

It’s the century-old question. Can men and women have a happy healthy relationship along with having a close friend(s) of the opposite sex? And remain friends, notwithstanding an affair? How about if that ‘friend’ existed before you came along, and you’ve always noticed or ‘felt’ this closeness between the two of them?

There are boatloads of opinions out there on this. Instead of a theological approach on the subject, I’m instead opting to provide you with my very own raw opinion. A Bon-view, as I like to call it. This ain’t gonna be pretty… could even get messy – might be a good idea to go ahead and don those rubber gloves from underneath your kitchen sink.

All joking aside, most man-moves can, are, and will forever be excused in the fact that they are men. I’ve grown not only to expect this, but to accept it as a fact of life.

Now, onto what I’ve learned.

Virtually any area of infidelity is contingent upon the type of woman that is playing along.

That’s right, I just said it. I believe the woman to be the deciding factor in whether an infidelity is to occur in a relationship, whether she’s the relationshipee or the outsider. Folks I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it… it’s a fact. And I seriously beg a debate.

Ladies… have you any wonder about the woman your man speaks so eloquently of, whether or not they were ‘friends’ before you came along? You’d damn well better have. Men… how about that guy friend of your girlfriend’s that she’ll meet for lunch from time to time, talk with on the phone, etc.? Is it really platonic? True enough, it could be platonic in both cases. The end result, though, will be determined by **none other than** the woman’s own moral convictions and willpower.

So by now am I sounding like a paranoid schizophrenic? Okay, I’ll give you that. The paranoid schiz in me was instilled by another, and it’s a daily struggle to keep that part of me buried. Maybe I arrived that way after realizing there will always be certain women out there that need the attention so badly they’ll resort to anything – including infiltration of a known relationship, be it marriage or other. The attention whore, for lack of a better word. Believe me ladies, when I tell you they are out there. Worse yet? They could be the very one that you perceive to be a good friend. Having been on the receiving end of the infidelity stick, I can tell you it’s humiliating and mentally draining – to say the very least.

So to wrap up my little rant for the day, in short – this is what I believe… and this is what I’ve lived. I want so very badly to protect myself in the future from this very damaging act. But just what is the answer? I realize that trust should be the key. Keyword, should.

Ladies, back to you…

Just some observances, and a little rant

I know opinions are like assholes – we all have one. I didn’t make that little ditty up, and it’s very true. But blogging forces out the best in me, as well as the worst. I’d like to I must share my opinion on the spoiled brat little dutch psychopath killer.

Urine vander Shit. And I did make that little ditty up.

Based on the facts I’ve already heard, and presumptions on the ones I haven’t – here’s a quick Bon-take on what really happened.

After meeting Holloway in the casino in Aruba that night, he slipped her a date-rape pill. (The same or similar to the evidence recently found in Flores’ car.) From that time to her death I can only speculate, but I’m all but convinced some sort of date-rape drug was used on Holloway, since that same speculation has already all but been proven on Flores. Note the way she was walking with her head down behind him – and from the video I perceived her to be swaying from side to side a bit more than she should.

He’s already admitted to Flores’ death. Everyone knows his daddy got him off with the lawyers on the Holloway case in Aruba – add to that the fact the Aruban police and officials totally mutilated the case. They handled the whole thing like the amateurs they are. I wouldn’t doubt the stress of all his son put the family through is what killed his father anyway.

I also believe there’s a strong possibility that there are others he killed. Now it comes out that his mere presence in Peru that enabled him to kill Flores was most likely caused by our own Feds funding to vander Shit for him to tour the world. Twenty-five grand, in fact. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. The US was the Enabler. Plain and simple.

Once again I present to you – our government, at it’s best.

Post Memorial Day

It’s the evening, so I’m close to writing this post-Memorial Day. It certainly will be by the morn. But let’s just take a nostalgic step back into yesterday, shall we?

I apologize beforehand for the obtrusive profanity that is hopefully only sporadically sprinkled throughout this blog – I will do my best to keep it at a minimum. For reason of content, I can already attest to the fact that I will never have that much sought-after ‘freshly pressed’ status on WP for this one… and I’ll just have to proudly suck that one up.

I spent pretty much all weekend at my guy’s house. After the party at his brother’s Saturday night, we swung by my apartment and scooped up my furbaby and we’ve been there ever since.

Memorial Day Monday afternoon, when I get back home, this is the first thing I see when I make my way up to my little third floor haven.

The motherfuckers. (Okay, I can already see this profanity thing is gonna be a struggle – but I’m trying I swear.)

These little muslim coward pieces of shit came and delivered islamic (NO I won’t capitalize either of ’em!!) newspapers all over my apartment complex immediately prior to our Memorial Day holiday. The little effing shits.

(Almost) needless to say, I had to hunt my blood pressure meds down to take an extra dose. Not a joke, friends. It got me so hot that I literally felt like I was going to have a heart attack. The nerve of the spineless little bastards, I say that because I refuse to give them balls. They hide. They sneak. And they aim to surprise. Always.

No one around here was expecting anything of the sort. What a fucking slap in the face. A jolt, if you will, of reality. Trust me when I say I don’t need the jolt, I actually live 9/11 every day of my life. But once again, here we go…. WTF….

I moved to the city I’m in for various reasons, though there are several chart-toppers. Comfortability factor, price – smaller town, less traffic. We don’t have the big-city crap that normally goes on here. That being said, my safety guard never decreases as far as locked doors, windows, etc. (yes I realize I live on the third floor). But again, the little asswipes pick their targets – and always, aim for surprise…

Happy Memorial Day, even if it’s post

Please remember all who have paid the ultimate price for not only our freedom, but the freedom of many countries around the world. Prayers constantly rise for our fallen soldiers and their families – God bless them and I pray he holds them tight in his arms. To our military – thank you for giving your all… so that I may be free.

A live one

I once again received a very informative email from my Dad, well worthy of sharing in a blog. To say this sickens me to the point of revulsion is the understatement of the year.

Everyone in the US needs to see these pictures and read the captions. This only represents a sliver of what the US is currently dealing with in one bordering state (and people, these pictures were taken back in 2007) – you can use your imagination for other borders. My money’s on the fact that the others aren’t in any better condition.

As always, I fact-checked the authenticity of the content and the whereabouts of pictures. Unfortunately, it checks out.

Hello, everyone out there! We here in Arizona know you’re boycotting us – but you really should come out here and see our Beautiful Sonoran Desert.

It’s just gorgeous right now! We know you’d love it and maybe you can share what you saw with the rest of the country so they can love it too!

This is on an ‘illegal super-highway’ from Mexico to the USA (Tucson) used by human smugglers.

This area is located in a wash, approximately 1.5 miles long, just south of Tucson, Arizona. If a flood came, all this would be washed to the river and then onto the sea!

It is estimated over 5,000 discarded backpacks are in this wash. Countless water containers, food wrappers, clothing, feces, including thousands of soiled baby diapers. And as you can see in this picture, fresh footprints leading right into it.

As we kept walking down the wash, we thought for sure it was going to end, but around every corner was more and more trash !

And of course the trail leading out of the wash in our city, heads directly NORTH to Tucson, then leads to your town tomorrow.

They’ve already come through here. Isn’t Arizona just beautiful, America? Why would you boycott us???

You see, our desert has basically been turned into a landfill. The trash left behind by people illegally crossing our border is yet another Environmental Disaster to hit the USA.

If these actions had been done in one of our Northwest Forests or Seashore National Parks areas, there would be an uprising of the American people…..but this is the Arizona-Mexican border.

You won’t see these pictures on CNN, ABC, NBC or the Arizona Republic Repugnant newspaper. Nor will they mention the disease that comes from the uncovered human waste left in our desert. You will, however, see it aired on Fox News.

But with respect to CNN, ABC & NBC, they do offer us “Special Reports” on cheating celebrity spouses….

Raising Arizona

I’ve been reading up on Mexican president’s Felipe Calderon’s visit to the US. He’s been ripping on the new Arizona immigration laws, though what he doesn’t acknowledge is the fact that the new AZ laws are not so very different from Mexico’s own immigration laws.

Illegal immigrants in Mexico typically hail from Central America. Mexico has repeatedly been cited by human rights groups for abusing or turning a blind eye to the abuse of illegal immigrants – which has included physical abuse, rape and kidnappings. Mexican police did little to stop this, and were well-known to seek bribes from suspects who wanted to avoid jail.

Until recently, Mexican law made illegal immigration a criminal offense. Anyone arrested for such a violation could be fined, imprisoned for up to two years and deported. Mexican lawmakers changed that in 2008 to make illegal immigration a civil violation like it is currently in the US, but their law still reads an awful lot like Arizona’s.

“It is a law that not only ignores a reality that cannot be erased by decree but also introduces a terrible idea using racial profiling as a basis for law enforcement,” Calderon said. That smells funny to me. For one, AZ law specifically states several times throughout the bill that absolutely no racial profiling will be allowed. Secondly, Mexican law states that law enforcement officials are ‘required to demand that foreigners prove their legal presence in the country before attending to any issues’. Something also smells rank in the fact that Napolitano and Holder were among the first to blast the ammendments to AZ law, but had yet to actually read it. Have you read the new AZ senate bill? I have. Read here.

Dude… our first lady and YOUR first lady can’t even speak to a randomly-picked small group of second-graders without a little girl slipping the fact that her mother is here illegally. Watch video here.

I’ve said it a thousand times before – a spade is a spade is a spade. If I went to any of these countries – Iraq, Iran, Korea, Africa, Mexico, etc. – I would not only be tolerant of profiling, but would expect it. We are the only country I know of that doesn’t incorporate some sort of profiling in not only border security, but airport and homeland security as well. Get over the fear of offending someone already!! There’s no other countries out there worried about offending US!!

I received the following list in an email from my Dad, who informed me it seemed like blog material. I wholeheartedly agreed. Provided, of  course, I could run with it. 😆

I must show ID when:

1. Pulled over by the police
2. Making purchases on my department store credit card.
3. When I show up for a doctor’s appointment.
4. When filling out a credit card or loan application.
5. When applying for/renewing a driver’s license or passport.
6. When applying for any kind of insurance.
7. When filling out college applications.
8. When donating blood.
9. When obtaining certain prescription drugs.
10. When making some debit purchases, especially if I’m out of state.
11. When collecting a boarding pass for airline or train travel.
12. To prove I’m of age for alcohol purchase or consumption.

I’m sure there are more instances but the point is, we citizens are required to prove who we are virtually every day.

Why should people illegally in this country be exempt? For that matter, perhaps the liberals here can answer the question as to why we shouldn’t guard our borders as closely as every other country in the world does?

ARIZONA, I’ve become a fan. Go Governer Brewer. You stand strong now….


That’s right. If you don’t want an earful of bitching this morning, just ‘pass her by’.

I try not to bitch about money because it seems almost everyone I know is currently struggling. But there comes a time when you need to get stuff off your chest, and this is one of those days. I am so very weary of struggling. Dealing with a paycheck that not only hasn’t gone up in years… but has actually decreased thanks to the recent tax hike. Not being able to make a trip to the grocery store because I need gas in my car. Spare me any of that ‘be thankful you have a job’ crap – I’ve said many times before that I am thankful and always list that in my blessing count blogs. It just gets really old having to scrimp and scrape to get by when my next paycheck is almost a full two weeks away. Hell I’m still playing catchup from being sick, with the doctor visit and meds. I literally can’t afford to get sick.

Bad thing is, I don’t see any solution in the near future. Well, that’s not true. I am in control of my own self. If I don’t control anything else in life, I do control me. So I know what I need to do. I need to take myself out and get a part-time job at Lowes. That’s exactly what I need to do. Say buh-bye to my social life, suck it up and work two jobs. Shit.

Bitch Session #853

I know there’s been enough of the sappy talk as of lately, with me being so in love and all. But what the hell, it’s my blog, and it’s what I want to write about. Right?

And as if right on cue… a Rascal Flatts song starts playing on the radio.

First off, gotta get a bitch session in about how sick I seriously still am. Instead of moving forward, I’m inching backward. Been up since early hours of the am with what I now officially know to be a sinus infection. Feels something like a damn brain aneurysm every time I blow my super-plugged-up nose, and the pain is excruciating. Gotta call the doc this morning. I only hope for his sake he doesn’t request me to come back in there for another visit co-payment, because I will seriously blow if that happens. Hell I just want to be semi-well for my daughter’s college graduation Saturday, which is now just 3 short days away.

Ah, nice… Diamond Rio now plays – What a Beautiful Mess I’m In. Take a big breath Bon. Breathe in deep through that stopped-up nose, all the way down through those rattly lungs of yours. And Don’t Forget To Smile Big.

My guy comes over last night with more meds for his sickly little girlfriend. I was the recipient of stroking and petting all night long while I was so miserable. He constantly massaged my forehead and face, legs and back, never tiring. With each new day I love him more, it amazes me still. Everything about him is so very precious. I could never have asked for a man as good as he, and yes – I do realize how very lucky I am.

In closing, I have to share a link to my Mother’s blog this morning, because for one I love her writing – and two, it is very much what it says… Deep.  Go to Linda’s Blog

Hey, who moved my cheese??

I was told a long long time ago that I was a person that didn’t deal well with change. Suffice to say I’ve kicked that little issue. Oh hell – have I? With all the changes these past two years have held, guess I could say I’ve been forced to deal with change a little better. Rather, I like to think it all started a little over five years ago when I was forced to change jobs after an almost 12-year tenure. That one was a biggie.

I guess I am a little set in my ways. Just a little. But I’m also obsessive about some things. A lot. We were discussing the ‘obsessive’ in us at work the other day (okay primarily the obsessive in me). Ah, our little habits…our own eccentricities.

Hmm, if my boyfriend reads this he might not want to be my boyfriend anymore – but I’m banking on the fact that he’s already onto most of my little quirks.

I have my own personal parking spaces. Umm, at home and at work. No, it doesn’t have my name on it. At home, second one from the end. At work, perfectly centered with the front door. I get perturbed when someone takes My Spot at home – no one bothers me at work. At home when I take my trash out, I compact the air out of it – every single time. And the bag that goes back in the can will be freshly installed minus any additional air between bag and can. At all. In fact, I hate extra amounts of air in any bag – I always compress the air out of all bags I deal with (even when changing cat litter) whenever possible.

I am married to my camera. I will hold anyone and everyone up in order to get my shot – and I will get my shot. I go back to the door after I’ve locked it to ‘make sure’ and, if inside – recheck it; if outside, I give it exactly two hard tugs to make sure it won’t open. Every single time.

I am, after all, of human species. Keeping with typical Piscean fashion, I can be classified as a lazy perfectionist – a most terrible of combinations. I suffer from anxiety and calm, depression and elation, and anger and love – all at the same time. I’m odd, I’m different – and naturally me. But after all, eccentricity is a first cousin to originality…

My Earth Day

So today is deemed Earth Day. Let try to explain exactly what Earth Day means to me. Here goes:

The Creation

1: In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
2: And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
3: And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.
4: And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.
5: And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.
6: And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.
7: And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so.
8: And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.
9: And God said, Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so.
10: And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.
11: And God said, Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself, upon the earth: and it was so.
12: And the earth brought forth grass, and herb yielding seed after his kind, and the tree yielding fruit, whose seed was in itself, after his kind: and God saw that it was good.
13: And the evening and the morning were the third day.
14: And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years:
15: And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so.
16: And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
17: And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth,
18: And to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness: and God saw that it was good.
19: And the evening and the morning were the fourth day.
20: And God said, Let the waters bring forth abundantly the moving creature that hath life, and fowl that may fly above the earth in the open firmament of heaven.
21: And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind: and God saw that it was good.
22: And God blessed them, saying, Be fruitful, and multiply, and fill the waters in the seas, and let fowl multiply in the earth.
23: And the evening and the morning were the fifth day.
24: And God said, Let the earth bring forth the living creature after his kind, cattle, and creeping thing, and beast of the earth after his kind: and it was so.
25: And God made the beast of the earth after his kind, and cattle after their kind, and every thing that creepeth upon the earth after his kind: and God saw that it was good.
26: And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.
27: So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.
28: And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.
29: And God said, Behold, I have given you every herb bearing seed, which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree, in the which is the fruit of a tree yielding seed; to you it shall be for meat.
30: And to every beast of the earth, and to every fowl of the air, and to every thing that creepeth upon the earth, wherein there is life, I have given every green herb for meat: and it was so.
31: And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good. And the evening and the morning were the sixth day.

I could continue posting on to the seventh day of the creation of earth, but I think you get my drift by now. Some of you out there may believe you ‘evolved’ from cells, ooze and monkeys; however, I believe I was created in the image of God. There’s no in-between. God created this earth, and God is still in control, folks. Now we’ve got an overwhelming under 2% of the population trying to ‘save’ it. Guess what? It’s all written. So better brace yourselves for what’s to come.

“Go green”. Okay. Yeah, I’m all for saving the trees. But all this other crap… let’s face it, we’ve abused this earth now for so long there’s no amount of good that the entire 2% or less of the population can do to UNdo all the irreparable damage – especially in the one day a year that’s dedicated to recognizing it. That’s even if the under 2% is a fair estimate. Give me a break.

Turn my lights off? Tell ya what I plan to do. During that ‘hour’, I will go through my apartment and turn every light on I have in the place. Have I mentioned I have a lot of flourescent bulbs? Heck I may go start my car, lock it and leave all the lights on in IT for an hour too. Just to prove a point. What point, you ask? Lemmie think. That for ONCE I’m not being pushed or forced into something against my will by some liberal? Yeah! That shall serve as my answer.

On second thought, maybe I will attempt to do my share for earth day. Does planting my foot up some liberals butt count as doing my part? Just asking…