An Open Letter to Oprah Winfrey

Dear Oprah,

You should be ashamed of yourself.

It has been a long time since I have seen an article so filled with thin-is-in, fat-phobic propaganda penned by someone I believed to be an intelligent, self-assured woman.

You have spent your entire life battling a "weight problem", for what?

Because you cannot believe that anyone will see you as beautiful if you don't weight 125 pounds?

Please don't tell me it was for your health, because yo-yo dieting is much more hazardous to your health than being overweight.

And you know we know you've spent years yo-yo dieting.

Every time anything has worked you have sold that system like nobody's business.

"If it can make me thin & beautiful, it can work for anyone!"

Right?

Right.

Now you're blaming it on your thyroid and medications and depression.

Come on.

You, me and the rest of America know why you have a weight problem.

You don't exercise enough, you eat too many of the wrong things, and you are (most likely) genetically predisposed to be heavy.

Quit making excuses!

More importantly, quit promoting fat-phobic propaganda!

How many American women look up to you and consider you a role model?

Here you are talking to them like they, too, should feel like utter failures if they can't lose the weight and keep it off.

You are suggesting that they, too, should make "many trips to various doctors" until they get a diagnosis they can blame their "weight problem" on.

Please stop suggesting that women cannot be beautiful, healthy and fat.

Please stop focusing entire shows, magazine articles, series, interviews on how uncool it is to be fat.

You are no longer a young cub-reporter who has to look "just so" in order to stay on the air.

Seriously.

Of all people, you are in the best position ever to be able to help women feel better about being normal sized instead of super-model sized.

Please, please learn to let go of your personal demons and accept who you are, so that you can begin to help other American women accept who they are.

Remember: Health is important. Size is not.

Much Love,
A Fat, Fierce, Fabulous Femme

Fierce, Fabulous & Fat - A Derailed Rant

I feel like this is the part where y'all are expecting me to post some New Year's resolutions for 2009. Considering how well that worked out last year, I think I'll have to pass on that.

At the same time, I'm not entirely comfortable just not having goals or plans for the next year. There is so much I'd like to accomplish, and having a list of goals is a good way to stay on track for that. It's hard, though, to determine what my focus should be. If I try to do too much, will I compromise my success? Will I become overextended and then fall back to a position of refusing to act on any one thing?

One of the biggest things that I know will affect my year and my abilities is my change of offices. While I am sure that my new position will not be entirely stress-free, I think it should go without saying that the level of stress should be significantly more manageable and less likely to cause me to shut down in other areas. It's still hard, at this point, to calculate how much this change will affect other aspects of my life and my ability to accomplish personal tasks and goals.

I also need to determine how to set goals that are less about the results and more about the action and the moving forward.

For example: Weight. I find myself waffling between wanting to be thinner and more fit, and wanting to be content with myself as I am. While "being more fit" is certainly a part of my goal, make no mistake that the "being thinner" portion of the goal is purely egotistically driven. I want to be thinner because society deems this as more beautiful. Not just that, but, also, thinner means that buying clothing is easier and less expensive. Everything from underwear to pants and coats are more widely available and generally cheaper. If I want to find a sexy pair of shoes, I would not be relegated to specialty stores to find something available in a size that fits me with the chunkier heel I need to support my weight. If I need a new bra, I can get it from WalMart or Target without having to go to the mall and pay more for an undergarment than I am willing to pay for a pair of pants. (Seriously, y'all... I bought two bras on Friday, on sale, and spent more than I would for an entire outfit) It's ridiculous the things that we have to put up with when we're fat.

You can say what you want about the reasons we're fat and how we're doing it to ourselves, but, at some point, you have to face the fact that America is becoming fatter by the day, but the consumer industry is not keeping up with America's expanding waistline.

Take WalMart, for example. I'll go out on a limb and say that the Sam Walton family of companies is responsible for not just the obsoleting of the small store, but that they are also directly responsible for fattening the American consumer. I dare you to take one look around a WalMart or a Sam's Club and tell me I'm lying. You can't, because it's true. If you have any doubts, take a look around at your fellow consumers. How many of them are riding around in those motorized carts because they have become so fat that they are disabled?

Now that we've established WalMart's culpability in America's obesity problem, let's take a moment to see how WalMart is supporting its now-fat consumers. Looking through the clothing section, you'll find yourself hard pressed to find clothes higher than "misses" sizes. When you finally do discover the "women's" section of clothes, you'll find that fatties are pretty much relegated to elastic waist pants and hideous shirts. Bras for fat girls are virtually non-existent. Even if you can find one that claims to be the right size, it's almost a given that it will not pass the try-on test. Looking for panties? I hope you enjoy the granny style!

Men's clothes have similar issues. They do sell more (and more "mainstream" styles) in extended sizing, but you will be paying more, and the size as listed is probably not going to fit the same as the same size at another store.

(How derailed did this post get?)

I don't think that being fat makes me less attractive. The feedback I get tends to support this belief (in fact, I get way more positive feedback about the way I look than I did when I wore a size four). So why does it have to be so hard - and expensive! - to be a beautiful fat woman?

What is wrong with a society that works so hard to tell us we should be practically anorexic and, at the same time, spends so much money convincing us that we need to do things and buy things and eat things that, intrinsically, make us fat? And, because we can't get through the day without a trip through a drive-through, Americans spend billions on a diet industry that, by its very nature, sets us up to fail.

Maybe it's time to wander back to my point?

Um. Right.

My point is: Do I really want to fall within society's standards for beauty?

Oh, hell no!

Honey, I am way too much to fit all of into a size four ever again. Too much style, too much attitude, too much fierce, fabulous femme. A size four would never hold it all in. Are you kidding?

So what do I want?

I want to be more fit. I want to be stronger. I want to be more able to do the things I want to do and like to do without worrying about whether I'll have the stamina to make it through.

Can we have a long day of playing with the Monkeys, take a trip to the snow, to the ocean, go mini golfing or laser tagging without needing a nap or a day of rest afterwards?

Our life is hard! It's an endurance race with no finish line, and it's not fixing to get easier any time soon.

What do I want?

I want to know that I can handle it, that we can handle it, and that I'll still have the energy for "me" time or "us" time at the end of the day.

At the same time, it would be really nice if manufacturers, designers and merchandisers would realize that beauty comes in all sizes. And that, if they want my money, they had better start selling beauty in my sizes.

How am I planning on turning all this ranting into goals I can work towards?

I have no clue.

Yet.

I'll be happy to take any advice y'all have. And I'll get back to you soon with some goals for the year.

An Actual Update! What?

Oh, what a long, strange week it's been.

First, let me apologize for the blog pretty much going offline. Maybe I needed a break. Most assuredly I was having some issues formulating thoughts in such a manner as made them postable in a public venue. I mean, one should only use the term "cockwhore" so many times on a "family" blog.

Heh.

On Friday we went out on what was supposed to be a group adventure. Ghost Hunter had invited a friend that she thought might dig Chief. That alone was no big deal. What turned into a big deal was when Ghost Hunter shanghaied the attentions of both Neighbor and Chief and turned our group adventure into a double date. With staff. Which I thought was totally uncool on multiple levels, and SweetPea and I ended up heading home pretty early that night.

For Saturday, we had multiple event possibilities. Chief had invited us rafting on the river and Ghost Hunter was having a bbq and had invited us along. I was on the rag, and figured that cloth pads + sitting in water = not a good time. SweetPea really wanted to go rafting, though, so I insisted she go. I got everything ready for her and kicked her ass out the door in plenty of time to meet up with Chief and her crew of miscreants kids and their friends. SweetPea took the only running vehicle to do this, which was fine by me. I planned on spending the entire day being lazy, less than sober, and not even kind of leaving the house.

This, of course, meant that not one of us was heading to Ghost Hunter's bbq. I got a text message from Neighbor about it at one point, and I told her that SweetPea was on the river with Chief, and I had no intention on leaving the house. From that point, I didn't hear anything from either Neighbor or Ghost Hunter, and I don't think anyone else did, either. At least not until Tuesday, when I think they both realized that nobody had been in contact with them for days. So they started text messaging SweetPea and Chief, trying to get the scoop. From what I understand, both were asking question after question, but not answering any. Ooh, bad form!

Of course, neither had the nads to try me. SweetPea says it's because they both know that I'm not afraid of confrontation. SweetPea and Chief would both rather avoid it as much as possible. Now, I really don't think there's anything there that needs confronting or causing an argument. I think we just feel that, right now, Neighbor and Ghost Hunter need some space to get their relationship going and to get it on an even keel. Once things have smoothed out, the things between the group should get closer to back to normal. And, also, friendships are two-way streets. If you miss someone, or haven't seen them in a few days when you ordinarily see them every day, you can call to check in, see what's up, how ya doing, I miss you. That's part of friendship. Not maintaining radio silence and then launching an assault on the people least likely to tell you that you've been an asshole and that's why nobody's talking to you.

In still other other news, I am totally not looking forward to back to school night tomorrow, wherein I get to spend 45 minutes sitting in a classroom with the reason I resigned from PTA. Much like Neighbor and Ghost Hunter, though, I'm pretty damn sure she's too chicken shit to try to start shit with me. She prefers talking about me behind my back, because then I can't tell her to her face what a two-faced, backstabbing, controlling, martyr bitch she is.

Woops!

There I go with the cussing again.

An Open Letter to a Local Tattoo Artist

Dear Local Tattoo Artist (who shall remain nameless),

You have a website, which is awesome. Nobody in the field should be without one. Go you!

Most of the pertinent information pertaining to your shop and yourself is available on the myspace.com page for the shop and the one for yourself.

Um. Kay.

You have an email address on your website as contact information. Which is super awesome. I am so much better at the email, sometimes.

Unfortunately, there is only one email for the entire shop. Not specific email addresses for each artist.

Because I am not interested in contacting one of the random people that work in your shop, I feel it would be a little awkward to begin the message all "I'm sure you're cool and all, but I really only want to talk to Person A." I totally think that would be rude.

The only contact information I have that links directly to you, the artist with which I would like to work, is your myspace page.

So I send you a message.

Which you read.

But don't reply to.

That's not even the end of the story, esteemed tattoo artist! Because even with my practically worthless memory I remember that this is the second time we've done this song and dance.

I send you a message all about the hi! I'd love to give you some money for doing that thing you love to do and you're all "who is this crazy person and why does she think I want to talk to her?"

So I did what any relatively sane person would do. I researched the other shops and artists in our area.

Do you have any idea how many that is?

Like, a lot.

And you know what? I think I found a shop and an artist that I like a lot better.

See what happened there?

Just a little snippet of rude and you've lost my business.

Sure, I only need a little something something right now. But do you realize that I have an aim of at least 60% coverage? Do you realize that my wife and I know a lot of people who are into body modifications and consider us experts in the field and would totally take our word for it if we directed them to a specific shop or artist?

Are you starting to do the math in your head?

Good.

Next time, maybe you should try hitting "reply" when you get an inquiry regarding your work.

Just a suggestion.

There Are No "Buts" in Unconditional

I guess the best thing I can say is how fortunate we are to have a largely loving and supportive family. While there has certainly been friction and conflict over the years in various ways, things have, for the most part, worked themselves out over time. We may not always like each other, but we do always love each other and stand by each other. SweetPea and I are learning more and more each day about how true that is.

This is, unfortunately, not an entirely common thing among homosexuals. Too often, family members are not as loving and supportive of their gay relatives as our families have been.

We are well and truly blessed, on many levels.

Which is not to say, unfortunately, that every member of our family is as unconditionally accepting as all of that.

We have been having a problem with one particular family member that came to something of a head last night.

When we got married in 2005 2004* (you know... the real wedding), SweetPea's father said blatantly that he wouldn't be going. At the time, we chalked it up to his wife, thinking that he was deferring the decision to her.

Now, three four* years later, her father has, again, blatantly said he wouldn't be going.

You see, even though he loves her, and loves me, and loves our children, and accepts our relationship and the family that we've built together, he does not believe in gay marriage and, therefore, cannot see clear to supporting his daughter when she gets married.

Maybe it's the way I'm wired, but I just don't understand that train of thinking. I do not understand how you can love someone and love their partner and see that the relationship is good and that it makes the people you love happy but then believe, honestly believe, that these people whom you love are somehow less deserving of basic civil rights based on no reason other than the gender of the person they love.

Last night, in MonkeySee's school parking lot, after most everyone had loaded up and gone, SweetPea and her father had it out.

I have no idea what all was said. What I do know is what her father had the brass tacks to tell her last night.

SweetPea's father, the man that she refers to as her hero, the man the Monkeys call Opah, told his daughter that he believes that the fact that she and her brother are gay are his punishment for his sins and turning his back on god.

SweetPea and her brother, his only children, are, in his mind, the plague of locusts inflicted upon him for his sins.

Nice.

I have to remind myself that I shouldn't be that surprised.

As much as I love him and respect him, I should not be surprised.

When you love someone, though, or, at least, when I love someone, I find it easier to overlook the negative. The things that maybe you should see and understand and accept as part of the package. It's easier to just think that some of those negative things are a fluke, or misinterpreted, or a product of a much younger and less mature person.

Like when he told his twelve year old daughter and nine year old son that it was their fault he and their mother were getting a divorce because the siblings fought too much.

And then all I can think is that this is a man who is unworthy of the love, respect and hero-worship that has been bestowed upon him by my wife.

This is a man that, I'm disappointed to have to say, I would rather my children not look up to or emulate.

I don't even know what to say about the fact that he would tell children that it was their fault their parents were divorcing or the fact that he views his children as a punishment, a cross to bear.

What I do know is that SweetPea and I are, otherwise, blessed and loved and supported in spades. There are so many people who love and support us, including a fair few who previously held negative ideas about homosexual relationships, that I don't even think I can count high enough to count them all.

If SweetPea's father prefers to allow himself to be blinded by his close-minded bigotry and hatred then that is his loss. It's his "hard cheese" to swallow.

Not ours.

I will mourn the loss of our relationship with him the way we believed that it was, and I will certainly miss that. But I, personally, am not interested in maintaining the same relationship with someone who has made it clear that he feels belittled by it.

And, to the best of my ability, I refuse to allow him any further opportunity for breaking my wife's heart.



* I am so good at remembering dates it's scary. < /sarcasm >

Thank You, Daddy, May I Have Another? - The Not Safe for Work Post

**all links are at your own risk & not work safe**

Every week, without fail, I read PostSecret (the only mostly work safe link here). It's my little Sunday tradition, and, I have to say, that on the (very rare) weeks when Frank takes a break, I have kind of a hard time because, hello!, the weekend can't be over yet if there's no PostSecret!

Y'all may not know this, but it's possible that I'm mildly compulsive.

Last week, a secret was posted that really burned me up.

This one:

Now, I am totally going to admit that I'm really not up on the "feminism" movement or where it's at. At this point in my life, if I'm going to be discriminated against, it's going to be about a whole lot more than what's between my legs. Frankly, I'd rather be able to legally marry my wife than spend my time trying to explain to someone that I can, honest, wear makeup without pandering to the patriarchal regime.

Seriously, though. Has it really come to this?

Are we really in a place where a sexually satisfied, consensual, grown woman is an abhorrence, even to feminism?

Really?

How are we not ashamed of ourselves?

A consenting adult woman asking for something, sexually, that she enjoys is anti-feminism?

Why? Because she's asking for something that allows her male partner to dominate her?

Has the feminist movement really become so black and white that it can't even allow a woman to decide for herself what she wants and what she enjoys? Is it really that hard to look below surface language to gain an understanding of what is really going on before making a judgement on a particular act or action?

To take this a step further, what if what she was asking her boyfriend to do was more than just spank her? What then?

I understand that there are a lot of people out there who don't want to climb out of their little "vanilla" bubble to make the effort of understanding the things that others enjoy sexually. That's not even, necessarily, a bad thing. But how can you go about making a judgement call on something without first taking the time to learn even the most basic fundamentals about it?

yeah, I know... we totally do it all the freaking time. shutup.

The point I'm trying to make here is that it pisses me off when people act like women can't think for themselves. That's exactly what this is. Someone impressed on her this judgement call that there must be something wrong with her because she's allowing her boyfriend to dominate her in this manner.

Why can't a woman just enjoy sex?

Why can't a woman just enjoy sex that involves being dominated and/or abused?

Does that have to mean that she can't think for herself or that she must have been abused previously and not know any better or that she's so brainwashed by the patriarchy that she thinks this is "normal"?

*News*Flash*

Women can enjoy sex. Women are capable of deciding what kind of sex they enjoy. Further, women are even capable of asking for and negotiating for the kind of sex they enjoy.

If you're a woman and you're not doing that, that doesn't make you more or less of a "feminist". But it probably means you're not enjoying sex nearly as much as you should.

Dog Rant

So today we took Gomi with us and went to Butch & Nellie's (which I remembered as being dog friendly, but, apparently, isn't so much anymore), and then she waited nicely in the truck while we had lunch at Hooter's, and then we took her to PetsMart, since they are very dog friendly.

Everything went fine in PetsMart, and Gomi got to meet new people, and sniff at some dogs. There were no issues, because we paid attention to what she was doing, and who was around us, including canines. We got some dog food, and a waistband treat sack for all those moist and yummy treats we're going to be using to train both dogs, and we got a couple different varieties of treats. We got three bags of soft cat treats, and two soft dog food chubs for cutting up into chunks and dishing out. These are what our trainer was using, and the dogs (well, Tatiana, anyway, Gomi was with SweetPea, so I don't know) just went nuts over them.

Everything was going just fine until we went to check out. I checked out, and SweetPea took Gomi to stand off to the side, out of the way.

Well, here comes this lady with a Golden Retriever who just wanted to get at Gomi. Sure, just to play and say hi, like dogs do. And Gomi, because she's a puppy and doesn't exactly have great manners yet was all about playing and saying hi.

Only we try to keep our dog under control and don't really let her go after other dogs like that because she doesn't have the best of manners and hasn't been socialized a lot with other dogs yet and is still very mouthy and nips when she plays. Sure, she's a pup, pups do that, and it's not like she's nipping hard enough to break the skin or even hurt. But all it takes is one little nip and one yelping dog for Gomi to become the Evil Vicious Pit Bull That Shouldn't Be Allowed Out in Public.

Because the breed has become so demonized that even normal puppy behaviour can't just be normal puppy behaviour.

Anyway, so here is this lady with her dog that just won't leave Gomi alone and she can't get her dog to get away from her so she starts saying things like "oh, they want to play" and "it's ok, they can play" and "let them play".

And all the time, all I really wanted to say was:

"Look, bitch, just because you can't control your dog does not mean that it is ok for your dog to act that way around my dog. Now back your fucking dog off because I do not want my dog learning that this is acceptable behaviour."

Oh.

And when we were down at B&N's, having our coffee outside, this dude walks by with his two dogs. Of course, SweetPea strikes up a chat. He's got a small white female pit, and a larger, brown male pit & lab mix. Guess what? Neither of them are fixed, because he plans on breeding them.

WTF?

Are there not enough mutts in the world, already? Get a fucking job, dude! Don't try to make a living off your poor dog's uterus. Leave the bitch alone. There are enough mutts being slaughtered everyday without your dumb ass intentionally making more.

I'm torn between whether I need to just keep on keeping my mouth shut about things, or if I need to learn how to tactfully tell someone they're a dumb ass. Although I do know I need to learn how to tactfully tell someone they need to get their dog back away from my dog.

Then again, maybe just telling someone that my dog's "playing" can potentially snap their dog's neck might work pretty well, too.

Starbucks' Tip Jar

So I'm surfing cnn.com while drinking my morning coffee (purely by happenstance, y'all, I actually don't get coffee every morning, I swear!), and I ran accross this article.

I don't know how it works in other states, but California state law says that supervisors and managers don't share employee tips. It's one of the easier ways of making sure that a dishonest supervisor isn't hustling the wait staff for tips. To me, it makes perfect sense. Yes, a good supervisor or manager is worth their weight in tips. They keep things flowing, keep the customers happy, fix problems, deal with the bad eggs and do countless other things that help the wait staff earn good tips. You pay a supervisor or manager to do that awesome job and do it well. They're not doing it for tips, they're doing it for the extra salary. OK, a lot of them are doing it because they're good at it and they enjoy it, but the money's good, too. Your management staff shouldn't need tips because they should be getting paid enough to not require tips.

Your wait staff does need tips, because wage laws are set so that you can pay your wait staff less if they receive tips. Those tips are part of their salary, essentially, and a lot of wait staff count on those tips to make ends meet. Maybe that's sucky, but that's how the law is set up.

So y'all need to take that money you're saving by paying your wait staff less, and give it to your management staff. Do not take the tips that are being given to your wait staff and pay your management staff with them. That's not cool.

Now I know I've talked before about my Starbucks and the reason that it's my Starbucks is because of the manager. Every time I've been there that she's been working, she's taking orders, making coffee, doing all the things the regular staff do and, frankly, she's earning being tipped. Because she's manager, however, she's doing all those extra things that managers do that regular staff don't have to do. Like listening to me bitch about the new blonde girl and, seriously, why is she still here? Because she's manager, her employer has the duty and responsibility to pay her a wage that is comensurate with her experience, training, and level of service to the company. It's their responsibility to make sure she is being rewarded financially for the work she does.

Valerie O'Neil, spokeswoman for Starbucks, said "This case was filed by a single former barista and, despite Starbucks request, the interests of the sift supervisors were not represented in litigation."

What this says to me is that Starbucks clearly  has no concept of California law or the reason behind it. Laura Ho, the attorney who represented the baristas, summed it up succinctly: "Starbucks illegally took a huge amount of money from the tip pool to pay shift supervisors, rather than paying them out of its own pocket. The court's verdict rightfully restores that money to the baristas."

If You Pay My Salary, Shouldn't You Already Know What It Is?

On March 4^th, the Sacramento Bee published, in conjunction with a series of articles detailing salaries paid to certain high-level civil service employees, the salary of every single person employed by the state of California.

Including me. ($39,900)

The database created by the Sacramento Bee was, in its original form, searchable only by the department or the name of the employee. Not by classification. Not by salary amount. Not by length of service. Not by office location. Not by office.

While the information is public record, the fact that the Sacramento Bee made the database searchable primarily by name brought the database out of the realm of public information and dropped it squarely in the realm of snooping.

Could you search to find out what others in your classification were earning? No.

Could you find out what your old boss was currently earning? Yup.

Could you search to find out how many state employees are earning less than the poverty level? Nope.

Could you find out what your ex is making? Absolutely.

Could you search to find out what other employees are making with similar length of service? No.

Could you find out what that jerk that works in that office that is totally inept earns? Oh, yes.

On top of this, there is the added issue of privacy and safety that the Sacramento Bee fails to consider. I have heard numerous stories of people who left violent relationships or were witnesses to violent crime who had managed to gain some degree of anonymity, even as civil service employees, only to see what many consider to be personal information exposed online. Simply plug in a last name and you have direct and immediate access to information that can put you in touch with a person (where they work), and information that will let you know if it might be worth it to seek civil action against someone. Or steal their identity.

The Sacramento Bee has since updated its database to include the ability to search by base salary and by job title. However, the instructions indicate that you still need to include a last name or a department when making your search. While I appreciate the Sacramento Bee’s efforts at making the database remotely less like a witch-hunt, the changes don’t do very much to open the database up for meaningful searches. If I want to search by base salary, I can only search within a department or agency, or for people with a certain last name.

The release of the information led to a flood of comments on the Sacramento Bee’s website, which prompted a response from the editor. The response included the following gems:

“The Bee did not set out to embarrass anyone or to invade anyone's privacy -- government pay is public record, not private information.” It’s good to know that the Sacramento Bee did not intent to embarrass me by releasing my salary to the public. It’s also good to know that the Sacramento Bee has no problem reminding me of my place as a civil servant. And that place is, apparently, to bend over and take it whenever the Sacramento Bee decides it’s time.

“The pay database does not include addresses, social security numbers, email addresses, telephone numbers or other personal information. We do not believe names and pay levels are adequate information for identity theft. Simple internet searches might show you that your address and phone number, for instance, are available online through other sources.” Personally, I love how the Sacramento Bee points out that it has left out key information that would be required to steal someone’s identity, and then goes on to point out ways in which a person could access that particular information. It’s good to know that the Sacramento Bee is looking out for my best interests.

Look, I understand that the state of California is facing a big ass budget crisis. I also understand that the easy and popular choice for dealing with the crisis is by pointing fingers at all of us lazy state workers. I can tell y’all right here and now that you are not going to find the answer to the deficit in my monthly pay warrant. It ain’t there.

I know you’d also just love to point fingers at all of those state employees who are earning big bucks. It’s easy to pick on civil servants, isn’t it? Everything’s just right out there. Consider, though, that these people are doing jobs that would earn them, in the private sector, two to three times what they’re making as civil servants. Even though they are making what you consider to be offensive salaries now. These are people doing jobs that earn that money. Maybe you don’t consider that a state employee is capable of earning money, but there it is.

The number one thing you need to remember about civil service employees, love them or hate them, is that not a damn one of them is in it for the money. Because that would be stupid.

Love them or hate them, I can tell you that state workers work damn hard for the money we receive. Work loads are going up, staffing levels are going down or staying the same, and even getting a cost of living salary increase is like pulling teeth. By the way, when we do get one, it's eaten almost entirely by increases in tax rates, benefit premiums, and increases in union dues.

I know the Sacramento Bee is looking for an easy way to increase readership and incite controversy and make it look like it's a Big, Bad Newspaper that's going to Solve the State Budget Crisis Single Handed! But maybe y'all should try some real reporting.

You might be surprised by what a pleasant change it is.

With the Lights Out, It's Less Dangerous

Pet Peeve of the Morning:

Technically, this is the pet peeve of dinner last night. I tried to post about it from the restaurant via email using my cell phone (because, y'all, I am like that), but then I went to backspace over a word, held the stupid button down too long and lost the entire freaking thing.

Y'all. I am like that, too.

We went to Mel's for dinner after some discussion as to how I am still Mr. Pickle'd out and not even kind of interested in going there.

They sat us in a booth, which had an added bonus feature - the ass of one of the children in the adjoining booth planted firmly on my daughter's head (or the seat back. whatever).

Even after we sat down, the parents did not see anything wrong with allowing the rodent their daughter to sit on the shared seat back. We actually had to ask the server to ask them to have their daughter sit down.

The exact phrasing of this request was (and I quote paraphrase): Is it possible for us to get a booth where there's not an ass on our daughter's head?

Our lovely server (actually, the gal that seated us and got our drinks) brought it up to the manager, who advised the parents that it was inappropriate for their daughter to be seated there, and that we were not paying for the pleasure of having her ass next to our heads.

Yes way.

So they put the younger daughter on our side and the older daughter on the other side, which had no adjoining booth. Which was good, I guess, because she sat on the seat back throughout dinner. Meanwhile, the little rodent girl was standing on the seat and facing us through most of our dinner.

If it had been a different situation, SweetPea would have proceeded to spend the meal making faces at and entertaining the rodent wee one. Because that's how she is.

However, given that they had already set a precedent for being oblivious to the inappropriateness of their rodent's daughter's behavior, instead, we spent the meal repressing the urge to ask the parents just what the hell was wrong with them that they thought it was ok to allow their children to behave in this manner in a public eatery around perfect strangers.

After they were gone, I asked SweetPea what their problem was. She was facing their booth, so she had a view of what was happening at their table.

"Bohemian parenting."

"So they want to be their kids' buddies?"

"Yup."

Y'all.

That creature you squirted out from between your legs is

NOT

YOUR

FRIEND.

That is your child. You are responsible for housing it, feeding it, clothing it, teaching it and (this one is important, so pay attention) disciplining it.

You are responsible for instructing your child on how to behave in public, which does, I swear, include consideration for others. Children need discipline. They need limits, they need consequences, and they need to understand where they fit in with the larger picture. I'm not (just) saying this from the viewpoint of someone who doesn't want to put up with crap from other people's kids. Ask a child psychologist, this is what they will tell you.

Parenting in such a manner where you're trying to be their friend is doing them no favors.

You are not their friend.

You are their parent. Protector. Guardian. Teacher. Provider. Disciplinarian.

I'm sorry if you had them with the intention of having a built-in buddy, but that's not how it works. Your children do not become anything remotely resembling "friends" until they're grown.

If you're lucky.

And you don't screw up now.

Pet Peeve of the Night:

Really less of a pet peeve and more of a complete and total freak out. I'll begin with a little back info.

Our dog is a good dog. She's an outdoor dog (and, yes, I know that makes us horrible, and I'm working on it, but the clutterfuck that is our house is just not prepared for her giant ass), and she's not a barker. She will literally and seriously only bark if there's something wrong.

A few months ago, she woke me up at three-some-odd in the morning on a weekend. Barking. I got up, went to the bathroom window and called her, let her know it was ok, I hear her. That totally shuts her up. Every time. She's letting us know, now we know, so her job is done. Then I sat down on the potty and had a think. I was debating calling the cops and asking for a neighborhood buzz-through, because our dog just does not bark like that. After I was done having my think, I went to the front door, to see if I could peep anything untoward going on the neighborhood.

You mean like the five cop cars parked out front of my house?

Yeah.

Like that.

So I thought to myself "Huh. I guess they're on it," and went back to bed.

< /back story>

At three-some-odd this morning, I get drug out of a dead sleep by my barking dog. I am laying on my side and SuperFat is laying on top of me. I try to get up but he won't move. So I drop his ass and get up. I head to the bathroom window and look out into the yard. I make the kissy noise. I call her name. I call her name again and tell her to come here. Now, I'm parched as fuck, so I'm probably not being very loud with any of this. But she's still barking. And then I notice it.

She's hoarse.

My good dog that doesn't bark unless something is wrong has barked herself hoarse at three-some-odd in the morning.

Between that and the stories we've heard about theiving and attempted break-ins on the street behind us, I fly into full alert mode. I'm fumbling around in the dark trying to figure out where I left my clothes, where the hell my sandals are, where the fuck is my phone.

Then I realize that I've actually watched a horror movie in my life. Once or twice. I know that there is no way in hell I should be flying out into the pitch black backyard in the dead of night with nobody the wiser as to where I am.

So I get SweetPea up.

Now we're both up and dressed and we've each got a cell phone and a flashlight and we head into the yard. Tatiana charges at us like she's just won the Super Bowl and now she's going to Disneyland. We check things out and everything appears ok in our world, but dogs on the street behind us are going nuts, too.

Mind you, the main house with the issues backs up to our next door neighbor's house.

SweetPea locks me in the house with both sets of keys, the flashlight and the dog and takes off in the car to cruise the neighborhood. She cruises up the street behind us and notices that the house in question is pitch dark. Except for the garage, which is not only lit up, but the garage door is open about a foot.

She calls me up on the phone and tells me this and that she's seen some guy walking up the street.

It's now four-some-odd in the morning, and, probably, some guy shouldn't be walking up the street.

I tell her to call Emergency, and to call Emergency now.

When she gets off the phone, she comes home and we both go stand out front.

Picture if you will:

Two fat dykes standing in the front yard of a pitch dark house in the middle of the pitch dark night with a big ass Akita, a bat, and a pack of cloves. On the plus side, we're both clothed, so that's a bonus.

After a while, the cops came cruising through and declared the all-clear, and told us we'd be better off in the house.

Which is all well and good, except now we're both strung out on nerves.

SweetPea is finally asleep again, but - Hi! Here I am because, y'all, I may not be sleeping any day real soon.

Further... Clutterfuck or not, that dog is sleeping in the house from here on in. If SweetPea's real lucky, Tatiana will be sleeping on the floor, instead of in the bed.

The sky is finally getting brighter, and hopefully Neighbor will be up soon so that I can go down and have a(nother) smoke. Because I've been forbade going outside until it's full bright, and only if Neighbor goes with me.

Bahb Would Say I'm "Aggro" Today

Pet Peeve of the Morning:

People who don't get the concept of a four-way stop.

Look, dude. It's not 1-2-3-4. It's two-by-two. So if you & the guy directly across from you are both going forward, and you're both at the line at the same time, it's both of your turns. That means you both go at the same time. Really, it's ok.

Now, this didn't hold me up none, so I guess I don't care that much. Still, though, you were holding up a big line of people, who I'm quite sure did not appreciate having to wait an extra turn, just because you're a dipwad.

Honorary Pet Peeve of the Morning:

For GruppieGirl - OMG, are people crazy?

Look, if someone's turning in to a school, that means that not only do they have kids in the car, but, also, they do this every day, so they're probably fairly good at it, and don't want to spend any more time doing it than is absolutely necessary.

What's that mean to you?

Suck it up, have a breather, use the slight pause in forward motion to finish sending that text message you're working on and get the f* over yourself.

Thanks.

Apparently, I'm cranky today:

Yesterday morning I woke up all freaking kinds of sleepy, so I thought we'd hit the Starbucks on the way to Monkey See's school. Until, that is, I got in the truck and heard the radio and we were only three minutes earlier than normal. That nixed that idea in a good way, so I thought we'd stop today.

Which was an awesome idea. Until we got there.

The cashier taking orders was, clearly, brand squeaky new. I have empathy for this, really, I do. It took a good five minutes just to get the order placed.

Like I said, I have empathy for that in-training, don't know what the hell you're doing yet thing.

Here's my issue (oh, y'all knew there was going to be an issue, so just hush):

Not only was she clearly new and learning the ropes, there was the stink of inept around her. You know what I mean. The kind of person that somehow missed the "common sense" line during construction. The kind of person who may have never stepped into a Starbucks before deciding that, really, she needed a job. The kind of person that makes everything harder than it needs to be because they're overthinking things (even though they have no apparent common sense).

What is this person doing working the morning shift by herself? I understand that she needs to learn, but why was she on her own and why, why was she on during the busiest part of the day? Also, has nobody noticed how clearly inept she is? How does this not get sniffed out during the interview process?

Yeah, because I do think that whoever hired her has no business making hiring decisions.

Really.

And it's not like it's the Starbucks I prefer (of which I know I've spoken before), where I could probably walk up to the (butch lesbian) manager, look her in the eye and say "look, kitten, sparky has got to go."

Which, by the way, I totally intend to do the next time I go there if that new blond girl is still there and she's still having as hard a time as she's been.

My point is that I don't know who the manager is, so I can't walk up to someone and complain.

If this is still an issue the next time we go, however, I will probably not be taking my business back there. I have places to go and things to do and none of them, on a weekday, ever, ever involve spending more than 5 minutes at a Starbucks. Ever.

And I had it easy. There was only one person in line in front of me. There were about 8 people in line by the time she was done taking our order.

Check that, SweetPea... I "backed up drive through" in the lobby!

Did You Guess?:

For those of you who didn't catch that...

Yes, I have a preferred Starbucks because it's run by a butch lesbian.

I don't know how they're run where y'all are at, but around here, an older butch lesbian is not a standard issue Starbucks employee, much less a manager. Further, most of her employees are not what you'd call standard issue Starbucks employees, which I think rocks. Almost all of them are stellar, too, which means I can stand going there (I am such a customer service snob).

The reason that I don't go to my preferred Starbucks during the week is that it is so not on my way anywhere. Which is so poopy I can hardly stand it.

Good Thing I'm Not On a Diet:

I brought my standard lunch today, which is a can of vegetable soup (shut up, Codejnki), but I just didn't feel like eating it. It's possible that I've been "souped out". So, I think to myself, no big deal, I'll just get lunch from the snack shop. I figured poptarts and a bag of chips.

Too bad there weren't any in there, and the snack shop was pretty picked clean.

Of course, I still didn't want my soup, so that was out of the question.

My lunch? A can of Diet Coke and a cinnamon roll.

Yum.

I *heart* Wednesday

Pet Peeve of the Morning:

Look, Mr. Semi Truck Driver, I know you saw that light was turning yellow. I know you were cruising up on that turn lane thinking "hey, it's only yellow, it's not like it's red." You know what, though, Mr. Semi Truck Driver? I'm pretty sure that you damn well know you're are not sliding that big ass trailer through the intersection while the light is still yellow. In fact, I'm pretty damn sure you had a reasonable understanding of the fact that, probably, you were going to be holding someone up on their green light, possibly long enough for it to turn yellow.

While I'd totally like to give you the benefit of the doubt that stopping for the light would have been dangerous for you to do, I see this way too often to believe that's always the case. I know you're hoping you can make that light, Mr. Semi Truck Driver, but, seriously, slow it the fuck down so that you can stop if it turns yellow. I really don't need to be smeared across an intersection just because you wanted to spare the 3.5 minutes you'd have had to wait for the next green.

A Note About Bodytribe:

I came to Bodytribe by way of the Wine Dog, who is the one responsible for information related to "no ass, no glass" and then something about barely even a locker room. I've done a thorough job of perusing their website and reading the blog and I really have a lot of respect for what they're doing, and the information they're putting out there. I also love the attitude, which is sort of a combination of intense, laid back, taking it seriously without being serious, with a smidge of "arty" (bohemian?). I think it's something that would be awesome fun to be part of, and I think that's a good goal.

But here's where we hit a snag.

Weights intimidate the crap out of me (just when you thought I couldn't get more neurotic, right?). Yeah, ok, that's probably silly, but there it is.

Personally, it's never been something I was ever particularly interested in. I've also never had any real opportunity to really learn anything about what to do and how to do it. The only thing I really know is that it's really easy to do two things:

1. Hurt yourself
2. Spin your wheels by doing it wrong

Frankly, I'm not interested in doing either, thanks.

I do know that, in order to get where I want to be both weight-wise and health-wise, weights are going to have to become a part of the plan. I know. I'm not stupid, y'all. I also know that, when I get there, someone really patient and really knowledgeable is going to have to walk me through doing things correctly. Probably more than once. And I'm sure Codejnki can back me up on the "patient" part.

Right now, I think I'm going to work on getting some of the fat off, getting some time in on the skates, and getting used to being "active" again. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to figure out when it's time to stop putting it off. And I'm also pretty sure that there's someone or other who would be willing to get in my face about it when it is time.

When it is time? I'll tell you what... I can't wait to make that tire my bitch.

In Other News:

My work schedule has been officially changed. I'll be getting off an hour earlier, and will be home by 4:30. Monkey Do doesn't need to get picked up until 6:00, so I plan on spending that gap walking. At least for now. I also plan on walking to the school to pick her up, instead of getting my lazy ass back in the car and driving down there.

Ha.

Did you catch that?

I'd rather walk to school (about a mile and a half, round trip) than drive because I'm too lazy to get back in the car & drive down there.

Also, I guess I owe y'all a post about my tits. I'm kind of concerned, though, about whether or not you can handle it.

Yeah. I'm totally going to post it anyway, though.

Manic Monday, Random Tuesday?

Pet Peeve of the Morning:

People who sit at a four way stop and wait until you have pulled all the way up to the line and come to a full and complete stop before they go, even though there is no other reason for them to be waiting.

You know what I'm talking about. What the hell is up with that?

I had one this morning. She was stopped at the left hand stop and was turning left, away from me. I was pulling up the line, with my right-turn blinker on, obviously slowing down and, what's more, turning into my right turn as I pulled up to the stop. Even had we both gone at the exact same time, the direction of our individual courses was such that we would not even have come close to meeting.

Why, why, why do people like this feel the need to wait? Why can't they just take their damn turn and not make me wait for them?


Eat Less, Move More:

Yesterday was actually a pretty good day, on the eating front. Not only did I make it the entire day without cramming a pop tart into my mouth, I also only drank one can of Diet Coke. Of course, the rest of the day I was drinking iced tea, so my water consumption was still fairly low. But. You know. Whatever!

Dinner was kind of a bust, as per usual, what with the overeating and all. But it certainly wasn't as bad as it usually is could have been. So that's a bonus.

We did not make it down to check out the gym either of the last two weekends, and it's looking fairly bleak for this weekend, too. That's kind of ok, though, because the special they were running when I first checked them out is over, and I am in no way paying retail when a rate like that is available.

I did, however, purchase a fancy new pair of sneakers. They are so fancy that I got them at Payless on BoGo because I am a big old tightwad. If I ever actually take up running, I am so. screwed.

I may be adjusting my work schedule so that I'm getting out of here an hour earlier. This may lead to the possibility, if the other gym isn't forthcoming with a reasonable rate, of joining the Fitness 19 which is closer to my house than the 24 Hour Fitness. They don't open up near early enough for me to get there in the morning, but, if I'm leaving an hour earlier, there's every possibility that I can hit it on myway home and then call it a day.

Unlike Bodytribe Fitness, Fitness 19 has enough glass to render it an earthquake hazard, much of which is in the form of ginormous windows that look out onto the busy shopping center parking lot.

Which is just so awesome I can't stand it.

Also, unlike 24 Hour Fitness, but much like Bodytribe Fitness, there is neither a pool nor anything resembling a locker room. The locker is no big, since I'll be headed home for the day and it's not like I can't shower there.

The pool thing, though...

Well... Let's just hope that Fitness 19 has a month to month plan.

Google Keywords:

Searches for "totally tatiana" are still completely out of control. However, the big winner lately is the post about the inverted bob. Who knew? I have no idea what keywords people are using, because most come from a google image search. I think that's pretty funny, because there were no actual pictures in the post, only links to pictures. Lots of other people are getting good advise on business phone call etiquette (ha!).

Moving On:

That's about all I have for y'all this morning, but I should be posting more soon, with topics including my tits and probably some other drivel that nobody will care about because Hi! Tits!

An Open Letter to Hair Stylists

Dear Hair Stylists of America,

The Inverted Bob has got to stop.

It's bad enough the A-Line Bob is still around and "hot" after all these freaking years. Do you have to inflict this new nonsense on us?

I finally forgave y'all over the Bad Streaks Fad, and I am finally at a point where I do not feel the overwhelming urge to scream "Bad streaks! Bad streaks!" and some poor, unsuspecting woman who has them.

The Inverted Bob, for those of you who don't know, is really kind of like a severe A-Line. So the hair around your face is about chin length, and the hair at the back of your head is so short that it's basically just a bunch of really short layers.

Done well on someone who can wear it, it doesn't look that bad. Well, except for the part about A-Lines being "hot" for, what, over a decade now and really, really need to be retired.

Done poorly on, frankly, just about any non-Hollywood-celebrity and it looks...

Well.

Remember the movie Sixteen Candles?

Remember the part where the Hunkie Guy's Bitchy Girlfriend is all drunk at the party, and she's at the bedroom door whining at him for some reason, but all he wants to do is call the Hot Redheaded Girl so he slams the door on Bitchy Girlfriend, only she had the back of her head right there so her hair is now trapped in the door which is shut and she's drunk and whiney. And then along comes Geeky Guy who does what geeky guys do and Fixes The Problem by grabbing a pair of scissors and cutting her free.

Remember that?

That, my friends, is an Inverted Bob.

And all I want to know is who the hell thought this would be a good idea for a hairdo?

See? Even Bitchy Girlfriend is shocked and horrified when she ends up with the 'do!

Do you not see this when you are looking at these poor sheep who have come in asking you to make them look like Posh Spice or that one rapper/singer/whateversheis?

You are making these people look like there's been a tragic accident involving a doorway and a pair of large gardening shears and you are, probably, making loads of money and pushing this damn haircut for all it's worth.

Please, for the love of all that is holey, can you at least consider pushing these poor lemmings into a haircut that actually flatters them?

I'm guessing that, once they've figured out how much hotter you've made them look than if you just gave them the Posh Cut, you'll have a client for life and probably your weight in referrals.

I also want to say that while I was looking for pictures to post for y'all, I ran across this little blog offering. I have no idea who these people are, but I have this to say:

5. Pixie Cut - Neither of those pictures show a hair style that is cute or flattering to the wearer. In fact, that blonde haired picture... Well, that poor girl looks like she belongs in the Sound of Music. WTF is up with that outfit?

4. Long Layers - OK, yeah. Hot. Totally not new, though - much like the A-Line.

3. Shoulder Length - Neither of those pictures are flattering. Does Kelly Clarkson actually look like that? Because that's too bad. As for the actual "hair style" of "shoulder length", I really couldn't tell you. Maybe if they posted better pictures.

2. Inverted Bob - Please, god, make. It. Stop.

1. Bangs - Will bangs ever not be in? Does that one girl have any idea how much she looks like Shannon Doherty right there? Can we please stop acting like bangs are some hot new thing?

Dear hair stylists, I know y'all have the training and the know-how to give these women a haircut that will actually flatter them, instead of just being the next lemming on the Bad Haircut Bus.

Please use your skills for good, not evil.

That's all I'm asking.


And a P.S. to all y'all... If you're in the Sacramento area and you need a great stylist, let me know, I'll hook you up.

Business Phone Call Etiquette

So you're about to make a phone call to a business to get some information. Awesome! Even though they're sometimes jerks and assholes, the person on the other end of the line really is there to help. That person probably has the information you need, even if it isn't the information you want to hear.

Here are some tips to help you get that information in the most efficient, friendly way possible.

1. "I'm not sure I'm even speaking to the right department, but why don't I tell you what I need, and then maybe you can direct me." No lie. I hear this exact sentence at least twice a day, sometimes way, way more. I don't even take a lot of phone calls, so I can't even begin to imagine what it's like for real customer service reps. Here's a clue, guys... That's actually what we're there for. That's right! If we cannot assist you, we will, no shit, direct you somewhere that can. It's really irritating to have someone on the other end of the phone start off by telling you that they'd really enjoy it if you could do your job like so, thanks.

In the future, try something like this: "Hi, my name is *name*, I was calling to check on the status of my application". Since I don't handle applications, I'm probably going to ask you a few simple questions to attempt to determine why you ended up asking me about that, and then, if it's still not my issue, I'm going to get you to the person who can help you.

2. If I ask you for a specific piece of information (i.e. your name, your account number, your phone number, etc) so that I can look something up, please don't ask me if I'd rather have some other piece of information instead. If I did, I'd have asked for that.

Personally, I'm going to ask you for your name. Why? Because I know that every last person I'm going to talk to will be able to tell me what their name is. Not only do I know you'll be able to give me the information, but I also know that I'll be able to look you up and find out what I need to know based solely on that information.

I do not need your case number, license number, or, goddess help me, your online tracking number.

I need, specifically, what I just asked you to provide me.

3. When you tell me your name and/or address, please slow down and anunciate. I don't need you to spell "Van Nuys" "Van Ness" or "Venice", but I do need you to slow down and say them correctly so that I know what the hell you're talking about. I've lived in California all my life. That means I can have an entire conversation using only the word "dude", and that I know how to spell all those Spanish names.

Also, if you're going to spell something out for me, do me a favor and learn your phonetic alphabet. When I hear "a as in apple", it's really not doing any favors for you in terms of my opinion of your intelligence.

4. When I answer the phone, it is really, really not necessary to tell me all of the following information:

name
location
employer
license type

What I need? I need to know what you need from me. The faster we can get that sorted out, the faster I can get you on your way with the information you're looking for.

Frankly, I will not remember your name after you get off the phone, unless there's a reason you don't want me to remember your name. I will also not try to trick you into giving me your name so that I can get you into trouble.

For those of you who give me the full TMI spiel and then do the *dramatic pause*... What, exactly, are you looking for in response? I mean, I think I've done a damn good job of repressing the urge to say "well, good for you", but I just cannot figure out exactly what it is you're looking to hear after that. Please advise.

5. "Hi, my name is John, we spoke last week..." Yes, John. You and more people than I can count and remain sane. Unless there is a specific reason why I should remember speaking with you (i.e., we were "working" on something), I don't. Sorry. If you were calling to ask me a generic question or even a specific question that did not need follow up... Our conversation probably hit the mental trash file shortly after it ended. And if it didn't, John, that's probably not bonus points for you.

6. "I left you a voice mail *this* long ago." Awesome. If that time frame is less than 24 hours, there is no reason you should be calling again unless there is a dire legal issue involved that directly affects me. Calling back within an hour is even more rude. If it's been more than a couple of days, unless there were unforseen circumstance preventing my attendance at work, you probably were not going to get a call back. Just be polite and ask your damn question. You don't need to passive-aggresively lecture me.

7. If we are on the phone, and I am telling you something I've already told you in a previous conversation, that I know I've already told you, and I use any phrase similar to "as I said when we spoke last" it is not in your best interest to act like we've never spoken before.

Trust me on this one.




Well, kids, that's about all I've got for right now. OK, that's about all I've got that I can discuss in a public forum.

But, whatever!

Tomayto, tomahto.

Please remember to be polite out there when dealing with your fellow humans. Show some respect and courtesy. Isn't that how you expect to be treated?

Dear Noah, Send help. Love, Sacramento

Most of you have no cause to know this, but I live in what is referred to as the greater Sacramento area. Here in Sacramento, we have lots of rivers, creeks and floodplains. Before we humans got here and started building all the dams and levees, Sacramento would flood pretty much every year. I think it's kind of what the area was made for.

Oh. Yeah.

Sacramento. Still. Floods.

When Katrina hit down in New Orleans and, more importantly, the levee breaks and flooding that followed, Sacramento paid attention, and not for the same reasons the rest of America was paying attention. We paid attention because, frankly, New Orleans and Sacramento could practically be sister cities. With the levees and the flooding?

We've been there.

We've been there when the levee breaks and homes are flooded halfway to the roofs, and people and dogs are stranded on rooftops and it seems like you can't turn on the tv without more reports of "Hi! Look at all this water!"

Here's a snippet from a news report from yesterday:

"Sacramento is considered the urban area most vulnerable to catastrophic flooding in the nation."

And this is not news.

We know this. We've been there. We've lived through it.

I work in what is referred to as Natomas. If you look at a flood plan map, what you will see on one side of Natomas is a river and a levee. On the other side is a drainage canal. You know what that means? It means that when the flood system was built in the area, if the levee were to fail, the plan was that all the land between the levee and the drainage canal was going to be allowed to flood. At the time, this was a pretty good idea, because that would, hopefully, spare downtown and all those other places were people actually lived.

For many years, all there was in the area that is now Natomas was rice fields. Why? Because it doesn't harm rice none if it floods. Rice loves that.

Now, Natomas is in the middle of a huge building boom. There are houses and stores and restaurants going up without end. Even in this housing market slump.

Again, from the article: "North Natomas today accounts for 47 percent of the development in the city of Sacramento."

With all this construction going on, especially in light of the floods that followed Katrina and everything we learned about the very worst that could possibly happen, you would think that the city of Sacramento would have spared no effort or expense to ensure that our levees were strong and able to withstand what is referred to as the 100-year flood.

Except that you would not so much be correct in that assumption.

So much so that FEMA announced yesterday that it was placing Natomas in a flood hazard zone - effectively killing any new construction.

Apparently, city officials were "angry" and "shocked" at the designation.

From our mayor, Heather Fargo:

"I am very frustrated and very angry with the Army Corps of Engineers and FEMA because Sacramento has really become the poster child of what to do right in flood protection."

Ray Kerridge, our City Manager said, "I'm totally outraged. "I don't know how the federal government can do this to this city."

The fact of the matter is that our levees would not be able to stand up to any type of significant flooding. I'm pretty sure that's been proven more than once over the last few years. If you would like to turn a blind eye and act like those levee breaks were only because of issues associated with the levee right there in that spot, then I guess that's your perogative. However, it really sucks when you're putting the lives of the people in your city at risk.

Why is everyone so pissed off that FEMA is putting its foot down? Uh, because halting construction in Natomas is going to cut off a significant revenue source, right as the city is facing a major budget crisis (much like the rest of California).

Ah, yes.

Because it always comes down to money.

Since I've ranted on long enough, let me sum things up for you.

Heather Fargo, Sacramento is not the poster child for anything regarding flooding. Maybe at the next city council meeting you can propose an initiative to rename one of those rivers "denial" because, clearly, y'all are mired in that pretty good.

I'm sorry you're about to lose all that fabulous revenue from the overbuilding in Natomas. Now get over yourselves. You shouldn't have allowed the building there in the first place, and it was only your greed that made you think it was a good idea to start putting families in a flood plain.

"Anger" is never a good emotion for the leader of a city to lay claim to, particularly when everyone can see that you're angry over losing money, and not at all interested in the potential loss of life or property that would affect your citizens.

Pull your damn head out of your ass and start taking this seriously.

It was one thing when all the Sacramento flooding coverage showed nothing but farmlands and some houses. But it's another thing altogether now that it's houses and schools and restaurants and grocery stores all crammed so close they're practically on top of each other.

Sacramento Bee, please stop posting the sob stories about the people who are going to have to give up or move in order to sufficiently fix the levees. I would much rather they have to move than they die in their sleep when the levee breaks. Also, this is Sacramento. Why did they move in next to the levee in the first place?

Also, feds? I have (and have had) a minor issue with those people who live on or next to the levee, get flooded out, and rebuild right there in the same spot with their federal assistance. You know they're just going to flood out again, right? Because we all know they're just going to flood out again. Which means they're going to rebuild again right there in the same spot with their federal assistance. Maybe y'all could look into adding some sort of language to that federal assistance dealio that says they should probably look into seeking higher ground, or own up to it on their own and get their own flood coverage and stop rebuilding on everyone else's dime.

Just a thought.

All news article references are from here. You have to register to read it, but it's free.

New Year's Revolutions

Over here in the Verbose World, we do not so much believe in "resolutions". Partially because we are a fickle, will-power-less bunch. Um, ok, mostly for that reason.

I've found "goals" are easier and less intimidating. If I screw up a day, it's not the end of the world, because I didn't make a resolution to lose weight, I made a goal to eat less, move more.

Now, I've considered my "official" goal list for the new year to be pretty small. However, once I get to thinking on it, I realize it's kind of not so much. I guess that happens in the Verbose World.

My goals for 2008:

1. Eat less. Move more.
2. Rough draft by June.
3. Every. Day.
4. Work daily towards reducing our impact on the environment.
5. Work towards the two-year plan.

SweetPea has added one of her own creation. A goal that is tantamount to someone pledging to go off crack for the new year.

SweetPea says we need to give up fast food for at least the first six months of the year.

I know this is a worthy and good goal, and that it will benefit us in numerous ways.

Y'all.

I can guarantee you that there will be at least one complete meltdown over this (totally on my part, by the way).

You see, when we actually cook, the vast majority of it is done by me. I am sure there is going to be at least one day where I will come home from work, tired, irritated and with dangerously low blood sugar and totally lose it over the idea of still having to cook dinner.

And I totally know that this particular goal is going to take planning, team work, and a complete transition in our thinking. We used to be really, really good at this, so I hope that it'll be easier to get back into the swing of things.

I hope y'all had a wonderful and safe New Year's celebration, and that your new year is prosperous, joyful and spectacular.

Now enjoy some kitty.


PS: I totally know those paws go digging around in the litter box, but I still want to shove them in my mouth and nom nom nom on them.

2007 - A Year in Review

Or not.

So I spent a good deal of time this afternoon reviewing my personal journal for 2007 with the intention of posting a review for the year.

Do you know what I found out?

2007 was one fucked up kind of year.

Three running themes for the year were:

1. I'm tired

2. I hurt

3. I am stressed out

It wasn't all bad. Really. But it was pretty messed up.

I won't even post about all of it here, because, really, what's the damn point? I think, though, that I will still work on a year in review post.

The highlights. Some lowlights. And a couple of god-doggies.

PS: I did some photojournalism today, but, unfortunately, I can't share, yet. Possibly soon. We'll see how this shakes out.

Sugarland pisses me off

I've posted previously about this song and how much it pisses me off. I have to admit that I really like the way the song sounds, but, because I listen to the words of songs, I just get so pissed off. And then I totally end up yelling at the radio. Things like "well, he married her, he's just fucking you, that's why!"

I do not understand how women who fuck married men always get it into their heads that they're somehow better or more suited for him than their wives. I mean, sure, you may suck a mean dick, but he married her for a reason, and I can guarantee you that it wasn't solely based on her knob-polishing skills.

Sometimes, men are stupid. They will fall for the younger, cute girl who lavishes him with adoration and sex. But that surely does not mean they're stupid enough to rip apart their family, run themselves through the divorce wringer and lose their comfort and security all for someone who doesn't amount to much more than a nice piece of ass.

And I will tell you right now that if you are fucking someone else's husband.... no matter what he may say to you... you are nothing more to him than a nice piece of ass.

Don't delude yourself into thinking he's going to become all those things you have it in your head that he's going to be. His wife probably deludes herself into thinking he's a faithful, devoted husband, too. See how wrong she is? Well, so are you!

He's not going to leave his wife for you. You aren't going to live happily ever after and always treat him right just like his wife never did.

Also, you should remember, and, as a woman, you should know that if his wife has become "frigid" it's probably not just because she is frigid, or doesn't love him, or is trying to punish him. More likely than not, it's because of a friction in their relationship. Possibly because of something he's done (maybe because of the last knob-polisher he was cheating on her with?). You should know that, with women, sex is about emotion as much as it is about physical pleasure. That's how you've gone and gotten yourself all attached to the man you're fucking.

So if his wife isn't giving it up, there's a reason. It's nestled snuggly in her heart and probably has a lot to do with the way he treats her. And if you think he won't treat you like that.... think again!

Basically, what you need to know and remember is that his wife is his wife. You are his mistress. He probably treats you better, but he's staying with her. If you're fucking him, you're just fucking him. That's it. Don't try to make it out like it's more than it is.

See?

See how long I can rant for?

And I didn't even get into it about lesbian couples or poly relationships. Because we'd be here for days. Really.

I also wanted to quantify this all by saying that - hey - sometimes, it does happen. Sometimes he does leave his wife for his mistress and they live happily ever after. But that's the exception, and not the rule.

So if you want to have a relationship, then just cut to the chase and get your own man.