This may sound as if I’m completely out of my mind but I’m writing this as an example of how someone pushed by financial strain can begin to re-think what they would or wouldn’t do for money. What I’m going to say may shock some, others may be able to relate. All that is to say, what you may read here is something you may not have ever thought you’d hear me say but rest assured, it’s something I never really thought I’d seriously consider.
Archive for the 'Soapbox' Category
Today the doctor said she needed to schedule a pelvic exam for me. I respectfully declined to which she replied, “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” LIAR!!! Yes you do!!!!
I hear that sentence and want to throw things. People say it innocently enough, hell my therapist has said it. They say it to instill confidence and trust, but when I hear it I pull back and become defensive. Here’s the thing, my mother and cousin said the same thing yet there I was doing things I didn’t want to do under the pretense of consensual activities. After all, if I didn’t want to then we wouldn’t be in that situation, therefore I have nothing to complain about. Heck, they gave me a way out, gave me a way to say no so why am I complaining about being afraid?
I have a serious hatred for cell phones. I see them and I mean to tell ya I just want to spit. I’m offended by them because everywhere you go someone has a damn cell phone attached to their ear. It seems like when they put the phone to their ear common courtesies disappear. Instead of making eye contact with the cashier or watching your kids, you’ve got everyone in line on the phone. People go up and down the isles talking just as loudly as possible on these little life interrupters. Heck, I have a friend that pisses me off because her phone rings every 20 min or so. I told her one time that we don’t ever have a moment together where it’s just two girls hanging out. It’s me, her and every person in the world calling or texting for the most mundane things. A two minute phone call every 20 min would get on anyone’s nerves. It seems everything comes second to that phone.
Around noon today my next door neighbor rang the bell to inform us that the guy who just walked past him came into our yard and took the lawn mower, weed eater and a table saw. While DJ and I were home this man jumped the fence, placed three items over the fence then walked away to get his vehicle so he could take them away. Of course this is alarming, that someone would rob us in the middle of the day with us home. Anyone would be alarmed at such brazen behavior but what followed was simply a show of testosterone clashing with common sense.
This afternoon the sun beat down mercilessly on Indianapolis as Juan Pablo Montoya took the pole psotion at the 2010 Brickyard 400. The city is drenched in sweat and filled to the brim with stereotypical Nascar fans siding with the hot tempered and reckless Carl Edwards or his rival Brad Keselowski. The whole city wondered just how insane it would get if fans clashed the way these temporarily suspended professionals clashed. I put that worry aside and concerned myself with my own insane world ready to explode track side.
I do not take delight in seeing Lindsay Lohan walk this path nor did I find joy in watching Britney Spears fall down. I do not enjoy listening to Mel Gibson tear apart Oksana Grigorieva, nor do I sit in mocking judgment as I await the disastrous end to the unlikely marriage of Bristol Palin and Levi Johnston. I’m not pleased when others make mistakes or commit crimes but some are and they love it enough to market it and pass it off as news.
In commercials I see TV hosts use words like, “Exposé” and “investigation” when spewing the latest gossip they themselves started. I’m not even sure how this happens but it does, and it happens on prime time television. All that said, my actual rant isn’t about the gossip itself but about jobs created solely for the purpose of tearing down other human beings.
Over a week ago I went into the kitchen to put my silverware in the dishwasher then went back to my area of the house for my plates. When I returned to the kitchen every stitch of my silverware was gone. I turned to Fife Senior and asked where it was, that’s when I was informed that it was his because his daughter gave it to him. I told him that I purchased it to which he offered doubt. After a few minutes of bickering back and forth I walked away certain that he wasn’t giving my silverware back. Two days later he came up to me and told me that he looked at the silverware and noticed differences, but since he wasn’t sure which were his and which were mine he was going to keep it all. Every stitch of silverware I own-ed is now in his bedroom in a box being kept because he doesn’t know what to give back and what to keep.
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