Ever had one of those moments where you just had to laugh hysterically? It just bubbles up, boils out… and you know it’s retarded to laugh but you just. can’t. stop?
Yeah, I had one of those earlier this week when the doctor said I need an MRI for my brain. Why? For nothing less than the fact that I might have a clot or a tumor or something else structurally wrong.
How did we come to this conclusion? Migraines. Repeated, painful, migraines.
They’re weird ones too. They start deep behind the left eye as a throb… and then they burst into these painful, sharp stabs that wrap around the back left side of my skull.
It’s awful. Light. Sound… I can’t stand any of it when they hit. And MOST of the pain is always on the left. Sure, I get the occasional throb on the right… but 99% of it is on the left.
I would not wish this pain on anyone. It’s that bad.
Let’s face it… statistically, the chance of me having something wrong in my head is low. But just the fact that he hesitated SO long before deciding to do it freaked me out. And now I get to sit here, twiddling my thumbs while I wait for radiology to contact me with an appointment for my MRI.
Waiting. I hate waiting.
It has occurred to me that America has a bit of a crisis going on, one that is often paid little to no real attention. What is this crisis? Education, or the lack thereof.
http://www.cnn.com/2011/US/05/31/philadelphia.charter.schools/index.html
That article speaks of how charter schools are fought tooth and nail by some students and teachers, and of how some charter schools have had dramatic increases in performance within a few very short years.
Now, I am not saying every poor school should become a charter school, I’m truly not. What I am saying is that we should look at good examples, and find a way to apply those principles to our public schools.
One of the issues, I believe, is the lack of discipline in public schools. I’m not talking about pulling out a paddle, folks. I’m talking about mental discipline. This discipline isn’t just lacking in the students, it’s lacking in the parents AND in the teachers. There are too many safety nets for students and teachers who truly don’t deserve such nets.
In a Charter/Private school, when you talk back to the teacher you are reprimanded. IF you continue to have a poor attitude, you are kicked out. Education is important, and this must be drilled into our students’ heads. It must also be drilled into the minds of the parents.
Right now there is a terrifying lack of discipline in most public schools. Students know that they will graduate eventually, because schools can’t just kick them out. Parents expect the schools to bend over backwards for ridiculous requests. They also expect it to be done with a minimal amount of effort from the parents.
Teachers realize that with their unions and their seniorities, they are relatively safe from being fired. This allows shoddy teaching to continue.
This must stop.
Teachers MUST be evaluated yearly to determine their effectiveness. Any students they have issues teaching should be reported by them to their administrators, and efforts taken to bring the student up to speed. A teacher should not be held responsible for students that flat out do not want to learn, but they SHOULD be judged based on the performance of those that are doing their best to learn under that teacher.
Communities, young and old, must be willing to support the schools in their areas whether they have children attending or not. Students must be taught that only through decent education can they do anything better than burger flipping their entire lives. We must Inspire. We must Encourage.
And most of all, we must NOT fail.
So I know I’ve been MIA, and I do apologize for those that follow. Life has been absolutely hectic, and rather complete hell. To sum up!
Children were sick. Breeanna’s hyperactivity went through the roof. Then I got sick. YAY!
After a while, it just gets to the point where having to do things that aren’t necessary is too hard, and so I let other things slide. Absolutely infuriating.
But now I’m on my way back up. Climbing up the wall, so to speak. Huzzah!
So anyways, League of Legends. For all those that were fans of Warcraft 3 and the DotA map… this is an amazing game. And guess what? It’s FREE. That’s right. Free. And it’s not a shitty free, it’s an AMAZING free.
Http://www.leagueoflegends.com Check it out, because it’s great.
The picture above is my favorite champion to use. Twisted Fate. And he’s great. He HURTS. And Oh how we love him for it. Oh yes.
My second favorite is Tristana, because she’s an elf with a cannon, and it' makes me giggle inside.
So that’s the pattern. Right now, I’m working on the middle, the complicated stuff. When I get done with that, then I will add the … ah… border look.
Why am I doing this? For my daughter of course. Though she isn’t aware of that yet. All she knows is mommy is sewing again.
But the sewing is therapeutic, and helps me get over the bad part of the day. So really… can anyone say anything? I hope not.
By far, this is one of the most beautiful soundtracks I have ever heard. This soundtrack blows the soundtrack of Gladiator or 300 right out of the water.
The emotional depth coming from Adam Skorupa is simply astounding. Even inside of the game, the music is still outstanding, and I believe whole heartedly that it is why the game was so astounding. Each note seems to fall into just the right situation, dragging the player into an immersive world where choices make or break the game.
You don’t just play Geralt… you ARE Geralt, as emotionally wound into the story as you would be if you truly were there.
The music is a journey, and it is one that I recommend EVERYONE listen to.
Talk about hectic lifestyles. The last two months are… a blur. I’m not quite sure how I managed to get everything done that I did, but somehow, it’s done.
On to other updates.
Yesterday, I had Windjammer come out to fix my internet, because the thing has been… odd lately. Apparently, the line for broadband had over seven staples in it. SEVEN. And the wiring below the floor was BAD juju.
So they fixed it all. And WHEW, does my internet speed! I’m rather happy about that. :)
I also got a new piece of clothing. A corset. And it’s beautiful. And makes me feel sexy.
And damn… I have forgotten what else I was going to say. Ah well. I’m alive!
yeah, it's one of those days. THOSE days.
You know, where supposed friends stab you in the back? That's called the Three of Swords, by the way. Nicely drawn card.
Where other friends stumble over themselves, tossing excuse after excuse for why they can't spare thirty seconds of time a month to say hi.
And two of your supposedly closest local buddies completely space out, and then don't give a flying shit, about your birthday. Where they can't send a text, or a call, or a voicemail... nothing. They don't give a damn.
Call them on it. And what happens? ONE claims that he will try to fix it. We'll see. And the other says "She'll get over it."
Excuse me? I'll WHAT?
You don't know me very well buddy. I'd get over it, perhaps, if this were 4 months ago. I'd get over it if you were fucking capable of saying sorry once in a while. I'd even get over it if you were capable of looking beyond the edge of your nose for fifteen seconds.
But you're not, so I won't.
I can say that if you were here, right now? I'd knock your teeth in and make you swallow them. THEN I'd get over it. I'd get over it just fine.
You wonder why people are willing to hurt you? Because. Of. That. Fucking. Bullshit.
That's why. Because you wouldn't know how to be a good friend if someone printed out the lesson plan and nailed it to your brain. THAT'S why. You're a selfish, no good, self-centered, egotistical bastard.
And I hope you choke on it. Because when you need people the most, they'll have figured it out, and you'll be alone and unwanted. And guess what? Part of me will be laughing. AT you. Not with you, you. Go to hell.
P.S. Don’t worry, none of you that actually bother to read this are the subject of this particular “fuck you”. But I needed to rant, and rave… and now that I’m feeling a little more drained, maybe, just maybe, I can sleep tonight. Doubtful… but it could happen.
So today I was busy putting one of my binders together. All of my notes on herbalism, meditations, things of that nature.
And I realized… wow. I have managed to build up a lot of that. I don’t think a 1 inch binder is going to contain it all. And it got me to wondering… when exactly did I really manage to store it all?
I’ve been collecting random fun stuff on my computer for a few years now, but it recently occurred to me that having it in a binder would be more beneficial, at least for when I am in my room and not near my computer.
Not to mention it is FAR more portable for when I go to a friend’s house.
It also made me realize just how far I have come. It is true that my life is chaos right now, and yet my solid foundation of spirituality makes it… bearable.
When the children drive me mad, I close my eyes, I breathe. I remember that which I believe. And then I am able to continue onwards, even if only for a little while.
That is a precious thing. And it is that very precious nature that makes me begin to understand, just the tiniest bit, the mindset behind an evangelical fanatic. If I truly believed that the only way someone could go to heaven and not some horrible hell when they die was to follow my faith… I too might become pushy, desperate, and rude.
It doesn’t mean I forgive them for those attitudes… I still think they should just learn to leave us all alone when we make it clear that they cannot change our minds. But at least I am finally beginning to understand their so-called ‘logic’.
So, on the 3rd of June, 2010, at approximately 2030 (830 pm for you civvies) my daughter lost her very first tooth. All on her own. I was inordinately proud let me tell you. She came running out, buck naked from her bath, and went “Mommy mommy I lost my tooth see!”
It was a wonderful moment.
Of course then it took 3 hours for her to go to sleep because she wanted to try to CATCH the tooth fairy. Does anyone have any idea how hard it is for the tooth fairy to sneak into a bedroom and leave 2 dollars in quarters while that girl keeps waking up at the slightest sound!? I was ducking, weaving, hiding behind mountains of toys in an effort to reach her bed.
Booby traps, I kid you not.
But, after thirty minutes of trying… I got those two dollars under her pillow. And the joy this morning! The glow in her eyes as she talked about how much money she got for being brave and taking her own tooth out! It was totally worth it.
Still… that does little to assuage the anger and frustration I get at finding yet MORE of the mess she made earlier this week. Let me recap!
1.) Baby Powder… everywhere.
2.) Diaper Rash Ointment… everywhere.
3.) My stick of deodorant… cut up and EVERYWHERE.
How she did all this? I am not quite sure. But I do know that it’s getting ridiculous, and so help me, my head is going to go flying off intot he cosmos while I flop into the middle of my living room (albeit the trashed living room, thank you baby Tristan) and cry great big pathetic tears of horror.
The Emperor, or in this case, my baby boy… is coming. FAST. I kid you not, he’s a zoomer. It’s absolutely heart breaking how quickly this boy is growing up. It seems like only yesterday that he was a sleepy newborn, wanting nothing more than to eat, sleep, and poo.
Now he wants to eat, sleep, poo, and wreak havoc. There’s no other word for it. Today I have been run ragged trying to keep him from getting into things. I went to the bathroom and came back to find him trying to tip over the trash can. After moving him from the trashcan, he went straight for the computer. After moving him from the computer, he went straight for the wires buried behind the tv.
And when I say RUN… I mean run.
Zoom Zoom Baby
Yeah. THAT is how fast he is. Absolutely crazy. And now he’s trying to walk along the side of the couch. I think that by the time he goes to sleep tonight, I may just curl up in a corner and pass out myself.
Now, I don’t expect everyone to believe that. But it is true. Especially for myself. Sometimes I wonder if I’m worse than all the other mothers out there. Having a 5 year old girl (who thinks she is the Emperess or the Queen, given the day) and an 8 month old boy (who believes it is his life mission to yank out the hair of every moving being nearby) is proving quite the challenge.
There are days when I wonder why I haven’t given in and checked myself into a mental hospital. And then I remember that by the time it occurs to me, the children are usually asleep and I’ve regained some of my lost brain cells from the dungeon that is my daughter’s room.
Not even joking, which is sad. If you saw what that girl does on a regular basis… Maybe I’ll upload pictures one of these days. Tangent alert! She found a bottle of her brother’s baby powder the other day.
Do you know what a girl her age can do with baby powder? HORROR. That’s what she can do. I’m STILL trying to get all the baby powder off some of the floors… and she got it on the cat litter step mat. Yep.
PLUS, the corner of her room is now white. Impressive. I have a budding artist.
Moving on. Losing my mind, that’s right. So during the day, when the baby screams for attention or bangs his head on something yet again, and my daughter chooses JUST the wrong time to start asking for things… that’s when I lose my marbles. I start to feel my blood pressure rise, and my heart accelerate, and the only thing keeping me from doing something stupid is the fact that I know somewhere, deep inside, I love those rascals.
And then comes bedtime. The angels open up the gate of heaven, and I hear the heavenly hallelujahs… and I proceed to open a computer game and beat something into a bloody pulp.
Violent, I know. But oddly, I feel so much better releasing my pent up Single-Stay-At-Home-Mother rage out on other people via the Internet. In the Beta of StarCraft 2, for instance. I get to watch buildings explode, blood splatter, and if I’m going against a Zerg player, I can listen to the squelchy explosions of buildings or units erupting into piles of goo.
Good stuff.
Dragon Age Origins. Need I say more? Violence, betrayal, near-rape, etc… Suddenly my life seems so much more peaceful compared to the horrors that my character goes through.
And I often console myself, thinking that I cannot possibly be the only mother out there that uses these violent tools as therapy.
Can I?
Calvo said yesterday that he did not know how the drugs wound up on his doorstep. He works part time as the mayor and serves as director of expansion for the SEED Foundation, a well-known national nonprofit group that runs urban public boarding schools.
"My government blew through my doors and killed my dogs," Calvo said. "They thought we were drug dealers, and we were treated as such. I don't think they really ever considered that we weren't."
Calvo described a chaotic scene, in which he -- wearing only underwear and socks -- and his mother-in-law were handcuffed and interrogated for hours. They were surrounded by the dogs' carcasses and pools of the dogs' blood, Calvo said.
Calvo is the MAYOR of that district. And yet he still lost his dogs, and he was still treated poorly. From other reports, the police were apparently harassing his elderly mother in law. Not only did they do all this, but one of those dogs was shot WHILE RUNNING AWAY from the noise.
Yeah, that must be an aggressive dog!
"Clay and his partner of 20 years, Harold, lived in California. Clay and Harold made diligent efforts to protect their legal rights, and had their legal paperwork in place—wills, powers of attorney, and medical directives, all naming each other. Harold was 88 years old and in frail medical condition, but still living at home with Clay, 77, who was in good health.
One evening, Harold fell down the front steps of their home and was taken to the hospital. Based on their medical directives alone, Clay should have been consulted in Harold’s care from the first moment. Tragically, county and health care workers instead refused to allow Clay to see Harold in the hospital. The county then ultimately went one step further by isolating the couple from each other, placing the men in separate nursing homes."
Does this seem American? Does this seem DECENT to anyone? That two people who truly love each other are not only denied visitation rights, but then ISOLATED during the last few precious months? Does that seem at all right?
How can those people sleep at night? How can they DARE to judge anyone to such an extent?
It is cruel of me... but I hope they all get shot in the knees. TWICE.
Daddy and Cesar Millan
Daddy and a newcomer to Cesar's pack, Junior.
