From the Archives: Near Misses

(2007)

Listening to: Nitty – Nasty Girl

Mood: Apathetic

So I had an inspiring event today that has inspired me to sit up long enough to blog. I know it’s been a while. Cut a hugely preggo girl some slack.  I’m sure you read about my recent (as in 1 year ago) acquisition of my new 2007 Hyundai Accord. Now you may be thinking, so what?  It’s a Hyundai, not a Benz. Why are you so excited? Well girls and boys, this has been the closest thing to not having a junker EVER for me. And it’s a nice car to drive. I don’t waste money on cars, so having a new one is a big deal for me – even if it’s not a particularly fancy or expensive one.  I was catering to a Taco Bell craving after retrieving my daughter from preschool today when I saw god. Well, almost.  I was driving about 35 (yes, I was within the speed limit) when some douche bag ass hat decided that it was a good idea to turn left from oncoming traffic in front of me. When I was about 40 feet away.  40 feet is really a joke when you’re going 35 MPH. To top it off, this person did not turn quickly, he gradually turned, until he noticed me barreling towards him at a very rapid speed. This left me slamming my breaks and praying that I wouldn’t T-Bone this protégé of idiocy. Did I happen to mention that it was raining today also? So throw some wet pavement in the mix just for giggles. 

The brakes were actually grinding in an effort to stop my car from blasting this little Toyota joke into oblivion. Hyundai cars are a little on the heavy side (at least my Sonata is), so stopping on a dime isn’t really a strong point.  Good thing the breaks are relatively new. I kid you not, even with the slamming on of the breaks, I still came within 2 feet of the back end of this car.  I swear on all that is good, and righteous, and chocolaty, if I had hit this joker, I would have gotten out of the car and manually finished him or her off with my bare hands. I’m pretty sure my new car would have been totaled (full frontal hit) and the other car would have just had a smashed in side.  It’s not been a particularly good week for me and I am having blood pressure issues thanks to something to do with my unborn child. I cannot think of a better excuse to let loose some rage and frustration than an unnecessary totaling of my new car. I seriously would have hauled my huge pregnant self out of my car and proceeded to give this person a personalized ticket to the afterlife.  Whew. 

I’m extremely grateful that I didn’t have to see what would have happened if this occurred. I really would not need that right now with a baby so close to arrival. I’m also very thankful that I didn’t let loose with the sailor talk that was running through my brain with my daughter in the back seat. It would have been rather hard to explain to my mother when my daughter decides to share her new knowledge (and you know she would….) with a few choice words when my mom comes to visit in December.   Drive carefully folks. You never know what kind of crack other people are ingesting. And how much.

Until next time,

Becky

From the Archives: Look Ma, I'm a Televangelist!

(2007, probably)

Listening to: Boston – More than a Feeling

Mood: Incredulous

I was reading Time Magazine last night and came across an article that just blew my mind. Now I’ve always had quite a bit of healthy skepticism about television preachers. Since I became an atheist later in my life, my skepticism has extended to preachers in general – but that’s a whole different blog. This article was focusing on a network of televangelists and a Senator who was investigating their use of money. All of these individuals are part of a nonprofit organization and thus should sink almost all of the money received in donations back into the ministry, or at least social services for the community.  A major benefit of being a nonprofit is some major tax savings.  The senator did not launch a major investigation into this, he simply sent them a questionnaire and a request for some information.  Wait, what? Because we can’t really be sure the donations were abused?  Let’s play the PC game? All the featured preachers were uber rich to begin with? All right. Let’s stop the lemming and sheeple parade. Almost all of the featured televangelists had either private planes or multiple very, very expensive cars and lived in what can only be described as mansions. One of the women featured had a 23,000 dollar toilet in her office.  Um, hello? Reality calling? Last time I checked, a toilet costs no more than $100 at Menards or Lowes. And, uh, it isn’t obvious that this money had to come from somewhere, and it probably wasn’t from a trust fund? It’s ok. I’m sure they’ll answer the questionnaires in a totally honest, open manner. After all, they’re God’s folk. Sorry for all the overt sarcasm, but this really bothers me for a few reasons. Let me elaborate.

1.         Preachers are supposed to, but virtue of their calling and the nature of religion, to be servants of the people/their congregation. Somehow, because of the 18 years of religious teaching (or brainwashing – take your pick) it just seems extremely unsavory to me to think that the “servants of the lord” are looking to serve themselves. How can people possibly follow a leader who has such flagrant disrespect for the use of donated money? Churches do a lot of good in the world. They help the poor. There are so many good uses in the world for money. How can a preacher possibly justify a private plane to his or her congregation? I’m not saying you should live in poverty, but for cryin out loud, have some shame.

2.       The people who are funding this idiocy and greed are those who really have hope that their money will be used to further the cause of the church. They don’t have much to send and they truly have faith that their money will make a difference. Otherwise they wouldn’t send it, right? This really sticks under my nails. It’s like a double whammy. These aren’t rich people to which a $50 or $100 dollar donation counts as pennies in an ocean, these are honest, hard working folks who most likely don’t have much to begin with. How can you possibly sleep at night in your mansion knowing this? The sheer guilt would drive me insane – and trust me – I don’t feel guilty about much, but this would do it.

3.       Senator, I admire you for bringing this issue into the light – I really do. Even as an atheist, I care about the human condition and people abusing others in the name of greed. Even if it’s in the name of religion. I’m glad I read this article so that I can spread the word. However. A questionnaire? You have got to be kidding me. Where are your balls at Senator? Asking some benign questions is not going to solve this problem.  Asking preliminary questions leads to offshore accounts popping up all over the place. People may be broken hearted that their money was abused, but if you go after the abusers, perhaps a little bit of faith can be restored. Who cares if you piss off the religious right?  It’s so much more important to do the right thing and stop these people from using power to abuse others.

People, it’s important to know where your money is going. If you choose to donate to any organization (and I highly encourage supporting your legitimate church/charity of your choice), make doubly sure you know who is receiving that money and how it is being used. I’m pretty sure that none of the people who donated to these corrupt televangelists meant to finance their mansions, vacations, or Mercedes. There are plenty of organizations that exist to better the human condition worldwide. It’s very much worth investigating first. Faith is well and good as long as it’s backed up by facts.  Donations aren’t like taxes. You really, honestly, freely give to someone else. You have not only the say in where that money goes, but the responsibility to investigate the receiver as well.

Good night, and good luck.

Becky

From the Archives: Aging Gracefully

I've decided to stick a new little series in here. These are older blog entries that have never seen sunlight on my blog. Should be fun.

(2007)

Listening To: You Shook Me All Night Long – AC/DC

Mood: Relaxed – There isn’t anything a nice hot shower can’t fix.

I usually do my best thinking in the shower. There’s just something about a locked door, steaming hot water, and coconut lime shampoo that gets my creative thoughts rolling. Perhaps it’s just the fact that shower time is the ONLY time I get all day that I have some semblance of quiet and a conspicuous absence of my children and spouse in which I’m not passed out sleeping. My intelligent thoughts have to escape at some point. It helps when they don’t have to compete with Dora on TV or nursing my ever hungry infant, or fetching some tea for my husband. Usually any intelligent thoughts (including some brilliant, earth shattering shower ideas) disappear the minute I step out of the bathroom and simultaneously hear “Mommy!, Waaaa! Honey?!” from the needy beings that I share a household with as they realize I am now available to wait upon them once again.

Today, my thoughts headed in the direction of the ever looming existential problem of getting older/turning into my mother.  Up until now, I have been able to delude myself into thinking that I am still a teen aged type gal. Up until very recently, the hubby and I only had 1 child and were decently mobile.  You can still be young and married, even with 1 kid. This was working perfectly until I caught myself telling hubby that I needed him to watch the kids. Whoa. Hello, this is reality calling….. I am firmly a 20 something with kids.  Next thing you know, I’ll be driving a minivan. Hubby mentioned this as a possibility for our next car and I told him that which shall not be mentioned had better not ever be mentioned again, lest I hurl something heavy at him. Or make him drive it – his choice.

This brings me to another pondering I had. Why is it that I always refer to my daughters as “the kids”? When we visit my sister in law, all the girls are referred to just as “the girls”, even if we’re just talking about her kids. Why do I refer to my own as “the kids”?  They’re also girls.  Perhaps it’s because my youngest daughter has the personality of a sloth (Come on, she’s 1 month old)  and it’s kind of hard to identify them as girls with personalities. Lord knows my elder daughter has enough for both of them.  Heaven help my hubby and his brother in law. With this herd of girls running around (including myself and my sister in law) they may just get trampled. J

So while I’m investigating my 26^th birthday occurring without prior authorization last September, I think I’ll enjoy being 26. After all, I may miss being young and 19, but I sure enjoy being older and more confident. On top of that, I’m going for the whole milf thing. Younger milfs are always better.

On that note, have a nice week.

Becky

I'm Back!

Listening to: Dexter



Mood: On


Hello again boys and girls. As I mentioned, when I have stuff to say, I have a LOT to say. Forget about my mental capacity for writing every day, I just don’t find the time. I really wish I could. I’ve had a few blogs bouncing around in my head for the past few days but was too caught up working to let them escape onto the page.


And now for something completely different: Holy hot damn are there a lot of talented writers on the interwebs. Hello, my name is Becky, and I’m a blog junkie. I can’t even tell you how many blogs I follow on a daily basis. Well, I probably could, but seriously. Who wants to count? Didn’t think so. I know, I know. I’m the one who put up the post on all the imaginary blog awards floating around out there. I get it. This is more of a wow, I didn’t know there were so many great writers. For some silly reason, this hurt my ego a bit (I thought funny people were few and far between, seems not so much), and it threw me off my game for a bit. Then again, my writing has always been for me. If anyone else cares to take a peek into my crazy thoughts, that’s cool too. It’s definitely not a competition. So that’s where I’ve been lately; taking in some great writing and appreciating the stories and writing skills I’ve stumbled upon thanks to the fake blog awards. Yes, yes, I get it, that is the point of those.


So welcome back for me. Hopefully I can keep the momentum going!


Becky

Mutual Hand Jobs

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Projecting Bad-assery or Managing Your Dressing Habits

Listening to: At Last: Can’t Touch This – MC Hammer (heck yeah…)

Mood: Irritated with Dude on the other end of my ball and chain

Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I don’t talk all that much. No seriously.  I’m the quiet one taking it all in and…scheming. I’m perfectly happy like that. Unless I’ve been drinking, then all bets are off and I am tons of fun. I have times when I just have nothing to blog about, and then I have times when it seems like stuff just pours out of my mind via my fingers on a constant basis.  Everything is funny, and everything needs to be expressed.  I’m in one of those times right now, so you might as well enjoy it – I will lapse into radio silence sooner or later.

So the husband and I have been having negotiations as of late as to what is kosher for me to be wearing. For some reason, this is extraordinarily important to him. Before we left the states, anything and everything that could remotely be construed as sexy was either given away or summarily put in storage at my mom’s house. Saris and salwars have been embargoed except for special party situations, which we will not find ourselves in until we make some friends.  I have also been banned from walking around looking like a boy. Whatever. Look baby, I don’t care how many times the 80’s call and request their tee shirts back. They can pry them out of my cold dead fingers in 80 years or so. We’ve uneasily settled on Indian tops and non-tight jeans which is a good thing for me. Since I’ve lost weight, I can’t seem to find any tight jeans in my closet anyhow. This is indeed something amazing for me.

There are times when I put down my foot and wear what I think it appropriate for the situation I find myself it. Let me explain. I am a Guns and Roses Freak. I love the music, the attitude, and my black Appetite for Destruction teeshirts. Certain activities here elicit a need to project an image that I am best left alone and not messed with. Wearing a black teeshirt with smoking skulls certainly fits the bill here. Taxis are a good example, walking next to construction guys another. I’ve found that when I dress a certain way, people just leave me alone because who really wants to mess with the crazy firangi (foreign) girl wearing a scary teeshirt. Wearing local clothes just invites too much innocent curiosity which at times has turned into cat calling and interest I just don’t want. So yes. The teeshirts stay.

I think it’s important for a woman who is functioning on her own to be aware of how she dresses. I’m in no way saying that how a woman dresses excuses the way a man behaves – that’ s just bull shit. What I’m saying is that if you don’t want to be messed with, a slightly more edgy look is better than a helpless feminine one.  I don’t know if I would ever walk down the street in a sari into the village next door to us, even with my husband right next to me. It just seems to be borrowing trouble. I don’t need the cab/auto drivers to look at me like a woman. I need them to leave me the hell alone and get me where I want to go. I can understand that my husband wants to see me as a girl and it will be important if we are hanging around with people he deems important to look a certain way. Even though every cell in my body rebels against doing something because society expects it, I am also a realist in that you have to take your spouse’s wants and needs into account too. I’ve decided that the tee shirts stay, because they definitely have a function too.

Becky

Wah wah wah Daddy Issues Blah Blah Blah

It may come as a surprise to you, or it may be obvious, but when I have too much time to myself, I tend to get into some crazy mental space that overanalyzes whatever is bothering me at the moment.  I’ve always been fascinated by dreams and they are no exemption to my analysis.  For example, my love affair of the past 5 years with Guns N Roses started with a very hot dream I had about Axl Rose.  When my dreams take a darker turn than a tryst with a rock star, it tends to stick with me for a long, long time.

A few days back,  I had a dream in which my husband left me for my own good (?!) and then my father told me in the cruelest way possible he had no interest in having anything to do with me at all.  If you know anything about me at all, I just don’t cry. I may if someone dies, but otherwise, this well is dry. I do believe I was crying for the entire dream. I was overwhelmed at the calloused nature of people I cared about.

What has really gotten into my head is not what happened in the dream itself, but why in the world I’m still stuck on the daddy issues. It also irritates me to no end that these thoughts tend to come up out of nowhere and sucker punch me. I went to bed that night happy and in no way thinking about my father. Mmm… Axl. Sorry.

 I’m 30 years old. My parents divorced when I was 15 and I haven’t had much to do with my dad, or him with me, since. 15 years ago people.   I would like to think that I’m a well adjusted grown up. The more I get to thinking about people’s issues (and let me tell you, everyone has at least one), the more I realize that they never go away. They sit quietly in the back of your head, driving certain behaviors and habits and just waiting to remind you that somehow, you are messed up in the head.  I have been trying my entire life to process those few years and just move the heck on already, but I never seem to eradicate it all together.

Ah well. It does seem to have wormed it’s way into who I am, so I can’t say I need to get rid of these issues altogether. I just wish we could stop with the sucker punching.

Becky