please make sense

i understand that the government needs to cut spending. obviously they can't just take away all the services that the government is supposed to be providing for the people... because, you know, people deserve services and... we pay taxes... you know. but anyways, so they're cutting funds for women's health care. because they're not really people! or... maybe the services just aren't that important. or maybe a mixture of both. whatever, who cares.

seriously though, this is crazy. women getting kicked to the curb? could you be any more cliche? come on, be original for once. and the bigger question i have is, where the fuck are all those committees that are supposed to be protecting families? they're everywhere all the time, never shutting up about our families and how they need protection from imminent danger, and they build our terror about this imminent danger until we feel like your heads are going to explode. where the hell are you guys? imminent danger!! imminent danger!! oh wait, they think the imminent danger is gay marriage, i forgot. some days, i find it absolutely impossible not to give up all hope in life and resign myself to a corner of my room to spend the rest of my days slamming my head against the wall. are you people fucking blind?! when it comes to attacks against families, i feel like the health of your mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters should outweigh your fear of 2 people you do not know and have probably never even met getting married.

SERIOUSLY. WHAT THE HELL. !#*$(#@&*%*(&WT()*TE()W#*%)!*(#$*!

i'm going to my corner now.

best of both worlds

my dad was a mechanic and also suffered from terrible allergies. i remember that his pockets were always stuffed with tissues and wads of napkins with assorted restaurant logos, and that he would often roll up some of that paper into a nostril plug for the sake of convenience. my mom's hair always stuck out every which way in the mornings. her bangs would stand up above her forehead like antennae. after getting out of bed, she would always throw on a wool sweater to ward off the chill in the kitchen.

last night i went to bed with wet hair. this morning i woke up unable to breathe after sleeping next to my dog who either suffers from severe alopecia or is somehow being exposed to chemo. i got up, pulled on a sweater, and shuffled into the kitchen. chuck had to leave earlier than usual, so i was too rushed packing lunch to stop and blow my nose every 5 seconds. i wadded up a tissue and plugged.

after chuck left, i returned to bed to get some more sleep, and on the way passed a mirror.

...words cannot describe my horror.

jules verne

back in grade school, we had something called "earth science," which mainly involved finding rocks around the schoolyard, giving them fancy classifications like "metamorphic," and pretending they were extraordinary. earth science was not my favorite subject. we did have one project though that i remember enjoying-- an illustrated storybook of our adventure into the center of the earth. we were to write a story in which we design a machine that digs us through the earth's layers, and all along the way we creatively weave in facts to demonstrate our retention of the material. ie: "wow it sure is taking a long time to get through this crust, even though it is the earth's thinnest layer!" or "my face is melting because we are floating in magma, which is extremely hot!"
anyways, i don't really remember much about my book, except that after we designed our earth-tunneling machines, we were supposed to name them. i named mine lidenbrock, and when my teacher asked why, i said, "he's the professor in jules verne's book, a journey to the center of the earth." this impressed my teacher profusely, who apparently hadn't heard of scholastic's abridged classics, and she awarded me a red monty star pencil for being a super reader.

so the point of this story was to say, happy birthday, jules verne. and thanks for the pencil.

maturity

i finally gave in and changed my email address to something more grown up. it feels strangely tragic.

Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now
Will be a tattered weed of small worth held.

OH WOE!

anyways, you can now reach me at pastmyprime@adulthood.net.

sorry, martha

there seems to be a permanent sale on spare ribs and jumbo shrimp at whole foods, and over the past few weeks i've become obsessed with baking. which means that we have blueberry muffins every morning, cheesecake or pie every night, and last night i made a thousand empanadas to store in my freezer. they'll probably last until the end of this week. for lunch today i am having leftover paella from last night, and then i'm making cheese-stuffed burger patties to store in the freezer, next to the empanadas. maybe for dinner tonight i'll include a salad. and by salad i mean sprinkling some lettuce atop a wheel of cheese.

all the wedding blogs and magazines are telling me to start dieting now. unfortunately, i am a bad listener and a fatass, who will have BBQ and kegs of beer at her wedding reception. paula deene should start a wedding blog. i would be all over that.