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So, I live in the US. Yesterday, there was a big decision handed down from one of the highest courts in the land saying that most of the healthcare reform that is going through right now is a-OK in their eyes.

I saw a lot of people on twitter, saying they were going to move to Canada due to this decision…

Look here for examples

I think, regardless of your views on this ruling, that we can all laugh a bit. People who are angry about the government in healthcare….want to move to Canada…..where the government is all up in their healthcare. We’re talking government takes care of your hospital bills up there.

It’s like when a bunch of republicans I know were talking about moving to Canada after Obama won. Unless you’re moving because you can’t stand to have a black head of state, moving to Canada really isn’t going to help you. They tend to skew more “liberal” than the democrats up yonder.

It’s like saying you don’t like living in England, so you’re going to move to London. Not only have you not fixed your problem, you’re moving to the freaking capital (and while there are other countries that you more likely be listed as capital of government being involved with healthcare, the analogy is good enough for ya’ll to understand what I mean….)

Edit: A friend pointed out that if they had wanted health care reform that involved single-payer-for-all healthcare, then Canda might be a possible option. Fair enough. However, these twitter comments seem to imply that that is not the case.


I feel like telling you all a story from when I was younger….

I went to two high schools. The first one’s dress code was “as long as it doesn’t create a disturbance in class”.

I verified this with all the administrators I had come across. This was the policy. No matter what, if it didn’t cause a disturbance in the classroom, it was okay.

So one day, I decided to wear a thong on the outside of my pants. You see, the “trend” at the time was for girls to wear low-cut jeans with their thongs sticking out. I personally thought it looked silly, so I figured I’d do something equally silly to comment on it.

All was well, until 7th period. You see, between periods, and during study hall and lunch, I got a few questions, but in the actually classes, no one said anything. So I was still within policy, although only by a bit. And then the teacher told me that it was inappropriate and that I needed to take my thong off.

“But I’m not breaking any rules. It hasn’t caused any disturbances in any classes, and your class hadn’t even started! And anyways, why is my outfit any worse than hers? The only difference between my outfit and her outfit is a few inches of pants and the placement of the thong!” I said, pointing to the girl next to me. (She was actually pretty nice, if I remember correctly. She later told me she didn’t agree with the teacher making me take it off)

She then proceeded to spin some sort of excuse that teachers are allowed discretion over dress code policies and that was why she was allowed to not let students wear hats in her class and so I needed to go and take the thong off NOW or there would be consequences.

I wish I could live that day over again, just so that I could stand my ground against her. Argue with her. Dare her to do something.

But I was only 14, and a very meek 14-year-old at that. So I went to the bathroom and took off the thong.

But, I did not let her win completely. I took her at her word, that it was a her classroom rule, and put on the thong on the way to the next class.

Apparently, one of my classmates didn’t like this, and went back and told her. Not even five minutes into the next class, the teacher from the previous class showed up, and told the other teacher that he needed to tell me to take it off because she had told me to take it off and it was inappropriate.

I was almost worth it to see the teacher say it. He was this quiet, mild-mannered, white-haired old man.

“Momo (except he used the name I went by then), are you wearing something that (mean lady teacher from previous period) told you not to wear?” She was standing there next to him, glaring at me.

I sensed the opportunity here. “YOU MEAN MY THONG?!” I cried, standing up, drawing obvious attention to it. I felt almost bad for the guy, it wasn’t his fault, but if I was asked to take the thong off again, I was going to make sure as hell I at least made it violate dress code before I did it.

He went red, and didn’t really address what I said. “You need to go to the ladies room and remove that….”

“Oh no need for me missing class. I’ll do it right here!” And I started trying to take the thong off.

“No! Nonono! In the ladies room!” he stammered.

I felt as though my point had been made well enough, and so I walked out of the room, staring the mean teacher in the eye as I left. I later apologized to the kindly old teacher, explaining that I had reacted as I had because, up until that point, had no fuss made while in a class due to my outfit, and that I was being unfairly targeted. He said that he understood my point, but he didn’t want to undermine the other teacher’s authority or something like that.

Then, in the next school I went to, I got in trouble for wearing red on the wrong day. But that’s a long story, for another post….


Can someone please just pay me to lay in bed and not do anything but sleep? And make it so that I only ever have to engage society through the internet, and on my terms?

‘Cause that’s all I really want to do these days. Strange, it’s spring, I’m wearing shorts, usually that’s enough to make me happy. Although, I ~DID~ miss my big huge usual winter slump….

Here’s to hoping things get happier soon. ‘Cause I’ve got a lot of other stuff I need to do. Don’t have time to schedule wallowing in. :-/


Boyfriend and I have been playing Pokemon a whole bunch recently. Why? Because we’re ridiculous…

But it made me want to talk about when I first got my gameboy and my first Pokemon cartridge.

My first inkling of pokemon came from a friend I had named Mike. He was super into video games, and got Nintendo Power magazine in the mail. He would show me all about it, and tell me that I needed to get this game, and to make sure I got blue version, because he was getting red version, and how it was going to be all sorts of fun, and he’d catch these pokemon and trade for these other pokemon and it’d be great.

I went and told my mom that those two things were my christmas list. My ENTIRE christmas list.

I remember how sad I was the day when I was told they didn’t think they’d be able to get it for me.

A week or two later, I was asked if I would mind spending my christmas money on getting the game if they bought me the gameboy. My mood perked up, because at that point, I’d do anything to play it. I said, “Of course!”

Now, I feel the need to add here, that I’m not quite sure exactly why I was so excited about this game. I played video games at the time, but I wouldn’t have really considered myself a gamer. Hell, I was still playing a NES most of the time, although, I think by that point, I may have had a N64 at my grandma’s house. All I remember is my friend telling me it was gonna be super cool, him telling me it was almost like a cult or religion or something in Japan, and that I really really really wanted that game. I’m sure there must have been some other reason why, because even as a foolish child (I was 10), there must have been something else going on to make me want that game so bad.

I remember that Christmas morning. I remember opening the gameboy, and being super excited. Not only was it a gameboy color (I believe I had stated at one point that even one of the older ones would work as long as it would play pokemon), but it was one of the clear ones, just like I had wanted. I thought it was so cool you could see all the stuff inside of it. It added a cool factor to the whole thing, I thought. But due to the question I had been asked earlier, I had kinda been expecting it….

And then I remember opening the next present.

And it was Pokemon Blue.

It was the right version of the game I had been dreaming about for months. Even if it had been red, I would have been stoked, but it was blue.

If I remember correctly, I kinda lost my shit. Jumping up and down in happiness, crying happy tears, hugs all around and a million “Thank you!”s. I might have exaggerated it in my head, but I remember just being so very very happy about it.

I immediately opened them both up, ripping the boxes to hell in my impatience to get in there. I remember thinking how small the game was, in comparison to the box. And then I never looked back.

Apparently, there was an option during Christmas that year. Get a gameboy, or get a cable box so that the TV in your room will be able to get cable. I chose the gameboy.

I only remember this because a while later, my grandpa asked me if I regretted getting the gameboy yet. And I said no. And he asked, “What will you get more use out of? A cable box, or that stupid gameboy?” And I replied, “The gameboy!” Mind you, I was still playing that game, while I was talking to him.

It was the truth. I got so much use out of that gameboy. Not only did I play blue version on there, but also yellow version, and gold AND silver. I logged so many hours on each of those games, not stopping with one until the next one came out. And with the exception of a gameboy advance that my boyfriend gave to me but a roomie stole a month later so it wasn’t even really mine for that long, it’s the only gameboy I’ve owned to this day. My little siblings have played with it too. I still have it, and bust it out every so often when I’m in the mood for some “retro” pokemon. Because as cool as emulators are, there’s something magical about going back and playing them on that gameboy.

It’s probably just the nostalgia talking, but it feels like childhood.

Mr Frothy Mix Of Fecal Matter And Lube That Is Sometimes The Byproduct Of Anal Sex (Aka Rick Santorum) has dropped out of the race? That just makes things seem so much better and brighter!

Or maybe it’s just because I’m realizing I only have a 4.5-5 hour shift tonight (depending on long closing keeps me). And that they’ve got no one between 5-6:30 for my position. And due to the fact that boyfriend has the car, I can’t go in. I mean, if it were just a matter of showing up, I’d suck it up, have taken the car, and dealt with it. But seeing as how you can’t clock in early without higher management approval (and they keep messing up the schedule like this…)

This post is now DIAMONDS

So, life has been…alright, I guess?

This post is going to be a rant about my night at work last night. I am still very grumpy about it, so keep that in mind. Also, in case you’re worried, I’ll be fine, I’m just going to need to get more ways to vent out rage and frustration, otherwise I’m going to go off on one of my underlings, which is rather frowned upon. So yeah, don’t view this as serious, view this as venting.

Got that promotion. Been thinking maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. Mainly because you get yelled at by both management and customers for not doing the impossible. But I’m stuck with it for the next six months, unless I quit or get fired, so I gotta suck it up and deal with it, I suppose…

I closed for the first time last night. Gosh. It was…quite the experience.

First, the last cart pusher left at five. And then the only person in the building that could push carts well that wasn’t one of my cashiers was outright refusing to help me, until one of the higher level managers told him to knock it off and suck it up, essentially. But if she hadn’t, I would have either had to push carts and constantly run back and forth to deal with cashier issues, or taken one of the cashiers off the register to do it, which I couldn’t do because we were in the middle of a rush and I’m not supposed to take register when I’m the only one on.

And then there was the almost constant stream of people picking up online orders which I had to deal with because the guy who is supposed to take care of that was too busy dealing with other things. Which I understand, but why does he get away with it but when I’m too busy to have gotten something done, it’s no excuse. Argh.

And to top it all off, the only person we had to do customer service (due to scheduling errors) was a guy who is usually a cashier but is being trained for customer service. And he would page me literally. Every. Five. Minutes. And then argue with me when I have him his answer. Seriously? If he keeps it up, I’m just going to report him for insubordination. I don’t mind clarifying questions or anything. But when he outright refuses, and tries to tell me how to do my job when he barely even knows how to do his job….and, mind you, I’ve noticed that he only does it to female managers. I end up looking at him, saying “I don’t care, just do it!” and walking away. I’m so done with him, I’m so glad he’s not going to be there tonight, or if he is, he’ll be at register, meaning he can’t literally YELL into the walkie every five minutes and then if I don’t immediately respond and come there he’ll repeatedly page (even when I say “hold on a minute, I’m helping a customer, I’ll be there in just a minute!” if I’m not there in 30 seconds he calls again!). Just…argh.

And while all this constantly paging goes on, an assistant manager laughs at me as I’m walking by, with the words “Needy little guy isn’t he?”. Seriously? Don’t you have some work to be doing, instead of laughing at the lower managers?

And also, I was working on closing the outlying registers. Which, yanno, need to get done before the store closes, excuses of too busy not allowed. So he was seriously screwing that up.

And then there’s the girl that took over a half an hour for her 15 minute break and was found by another manager eating unhurriedly in the break room. And then when she was told, by a manager that’s above me, hey, it’s way past time for you to be back up front, you’re holding up so-and-so’s break…she still took about 15 minutes getting back to the front. And then there’s the guy who I went looking for because I had sent him to do this thing that only takes maybe 10 minutes and he had been gone for a half an hour. In the training room, texting. And then he called me angrily many times at the end of the night because there was no one at the register next to him. Sorry, don’t have enough people, no one else who is on has someone next to them, suck it up and deal with it.

And then there was the guy who said he was going to report us to the BBB because he had to wait a minute to get someone to help him in the area (guy was at lunch), and the guy was supposedly “rude”. And that he was going to make sure to name me in his report because “you’re the manager!” Excuse me, I have no power over anyone at all but my cashiers, and even then…’s iffy. There are some that like to push the line about being “insubordinate”. Anyone in any other section of the store? If I tell them to do something, they can tell me to fuck off, and would only get in trouble for the language if a customer complained. Mentioning my name will get you nothing.

And then there were the customers yelling at me about the lines. Trust me, I’m aware of them. They don’t give me enough cashiers because they don’t want to pay them, even though it’s screwing you, the customer, over. But I’m not allowed to tell you that. I have to sit there while you call me every foul name in the book because I’ve tried to page overhead for people to come up but no one does and people have called out and they didn’t schedule enough people even if everyone showed up. And apologize. Even though I want to tell you what a fucking entitled asshat you’re being and that if you don’t like it you don’t have to shop here. Argh, rage.

So glad that other manager lady came in a few minutes earlier to help me. She was doing an overnight, to help for other things, but she agreed to clock in early yesterday and today to help me since it was my first nights closing by myself.

So, let me explain to you another story about paging dude, because I am annoyed, and it explains the kind of stuff he does. For simplicity, I’ll label him P. For reference, it was during the middle of a rush the day before easter. We were packed, we had three managers of the same rank as me in, and the manager over us told us to get on register and he would take care of our managing duties until it went down. Every register was open, lines down to who the hell knows where… was a RUSH. And all the managers wear walkies. And we have these little things that the cashiers can send us general messages on, like “I need the bathroom!” or, “I have a question!”
So, I’m at a register, obviously scanning away. I see him come over, and say “Hey, can’t help much right now, Manager is acting as manager, so I can’t really help..”
P: “No, it’s just a quick question…”
Me: Fine, what’s up?
P: The customer wants to buy this but it’s broken we can’t sell it right?
I look over, and I see it’s a thing of those plastic easter eggs. You know, the kind you put candy into? There’s a small slice in the side of the packaging, but it’s fairly tiny, and obviously not a big deal.
Me: Go ahead and sell it to the customer!
P: But it’s against the rules! (It isn’t. We can’t discount stuff past a certain point due to damage, but if the customer wants to buy it at that price, we can still sell it. And this customer wants to buy it full price. No issue)
Me: No, it’s not. Just sell it to them.
P: Can you call manager?
Me: My walkie is dead (which is mostly true. It was dying, and all my pages got all distorted)
P: No it’s not, I see it blinking! (He then proceeds to grab it. It’s hanging out of my back pocket. He seriously came within millimeters of touching my butt. Now I’m angry. Not only is he holding me up needlessly about something he shouldn’t even have to ask about, not only is he arguing with me, but now he’s almost touched my butt. I am NOT okay about this)
Me: **growling** It’s broken. Now go back to your register, and sell those eggs!
He goes back. And then I see on the little message thing that he sent that he had a question to Manager. I asked Manager about it later. It was the eggs. And he told him to sell them. And of course, he didn’t argue with Manager, no siree!

Ah, one of these days, I am going to crack and go off on either a customer or a cashier. And I will likely get fired, but it will be GLORIOUS, because it’s all going to come out. I will curse out each and every single one, besides the few that give me no troubles, and then I will never go back, and there will be happiness. The end.

RIP Little Lanfear

Little Lanfear was a fighter. I first thought she was going to die back in November. She had a huge tumor, and she had somehow cut it, and her sister and mom had just died….but she made it.
She even gnawed off the tumor a few times, while I wasn’t looking! Not that I could really stop her…she tended to do whatever it was she wanted to do, and no amount of trying to scare her would stop her. She was a complete badass.
Hell, less than a week ago, she was still kicking the asses of anyone who stole her peanuts. You see, mice really like peanuts, so we would give them peanuts as a treat sometimes. But mice aren’t too perceptive, and would often fight over a single peanut when there were many other peanuts in the nearby areas, or, more often, one would just grab the peanut out of the other’s mouth and try to walk away with it. Some mousies would let it go, but not Lanfear. She’d chase after that mousie and grab that peanut right back, and there was nothing that would stop her from getting that peanut back!
Even at the end she was a fighter…. she seemed to like the dark better than the light, so we had her under this little hidie thing (they like to hide under them when they sleep). She was barely able to move. When I woke up this morning (I tried to sit vigil with her, but there was a chance I was going to need to drive this morning, so I couldn’t) she had managed to crawl out from under there. She wanted to leave in the open air.
She was buried in a heart-shaped box this morning next to her sister and her mom. The ground was cold, but we managed to get down deep enough.
Goodbye Lanfear. You were my sniffler, always sniffling around, investigating everything, leaving no tube unexplored. You brought unmeasurable amounts of happiness to me, and I will forever miss you. You will never be able to be replaced. I love you Lanfear. Enjoy the mousie afterlife! ❤ ❤
Excuse me while I go lose my shit in an attempt to be ready for work today. Because I sure as hell am not going to be able to get through it in my current state.

The Mousie Afterlife

Once upon a time ago, I had two mice. Padawan and Asmodean (or Asmo, for short). Then Asmodean ended up being male, Padawan became a mother, and for a while, there was uncertainty about how I would take care for all the mousies.
Eventually, friends and family took care of some of them, and the other ones went to a pet store that sold pet mice and feed mice separate, and I ended up with six mice.
Padawan, Ghost, Lanfear, Bastilla, Crackmouse, and Arya.
Ghostie died one night unexpectedly. She had had a few seizures, but she hadn’t had one in over a month. We thought she had been doing better. We were quite upset.
Padawan died 24 hours later. Seriously. I came home from work, and was worried I was having dejavu, because I went to the mousie tank, like I always do, and she was laying in almost the exact same position,in almost the exact same part of the tank, almost exactly 24 hours after I had found Ghostie (I had gotten out of work the same time both nights). Padawan, however, had a big scary tumor, so her death wasn’t completely unexpected. However, she had seemed fine up until that day, so we had thought we’d have some more time with her.
It was hard to have two mice die within 24 hours of each other. Especially the ones that did. Padawan had been the mommy mouse, and I had had her the longest. And Ghostie had been the runt of the litter, and the only grey and white mousie out of both litters that Padawan had. She was my secret favorite. I would reach in and pet her, and she would let me pet her a few times before running away, unlike the other mice, who would like to bite me if I got too close. So Boyfriend and I made up a story. Either though neither of us is religious, or believes in an afterlife for humans, we made up a mousie afterlife. The mousie afterlife was a pretty sweet place for mouses. They could have all sorts of adventures they couldn’t have while they were alive, because now they didn’t have to worry about any sorts of predators or dying or anything. And we decided that our mice would be circumnavigating the world in a little mousie sized ship. And when a mousie died, they’d wake up on the ship. And instead of being upset about dying, they’d be happy to see their family members they hadn’t seen in a while. And they wouldn’t hurt anymore and be happy and no more tumors ever again.
I write about the mousie afterlife…because I fear that Lanfear will soon be joining them. She has barely moved since last night. She has trouble righting herself. She seems weak and…I just think she’s not long for this world. She’s had tumors, started having them soon after Padawan did, but while Padawan died quickly, Lanfear has been fine for a long time. Hell, she even chewed off her tumors once or twice when I wasn’t there to soothe her. I joked that she would outlive all the other mice, and hell, I half started to believe that myself. She was beast….but she’s taken a sharp turn downhill. And she may surprise me…but I’m not holding my breath. I’m gonna lose my shit…already losing my shit but I’ve got work and I can’t call out and I’m not sure how well I’m going to be able to keep it together. We love you Little Lanfear, and hope that you somehow have a miraculous recovery, but, if not, we hope your passing is as painless as possible, and that you have a great time with your mom and sister in the mousie afterlife.

So, I have a confession (that should come as no surprise to anyone who knows be at least somewhat well): I love comic books. Like, to an almost frightening degree.
One of my favorite characters is Batgirl. What’s not to love? Strong, young, independent girlie who isn’t drawn completely ridiculous(Usually, anyways…there are always the ridiculous outliers, but most of them are okay). She’s got stuff going on in her life (especially the current Batgirl…she was recently paralyzed, her mom came back into her life…I haven’t read the new issue yet, no one spoiler me!) Good female superheroes are hard to find these days. Look at the reboot of Starfire, if you don’t believe me. And even more, she’s currently being written by my favorite female comic book writer Gail Simone, so of course I have to get it! Gotta support the female characters and writers I want. Vote with your dollar. All that jazz. Hope DC eventually knocks off their crap…
I also need a new pair of shoes, because my current pair is a $15 pair I bought at payless a few months ago because the ones I had were falling apart and I needed some cheap shoes to do me for work until I was able to afford another pair..
Then I found these:
Batgirl converse
The picture links to the site where they’re being sold. And you’ll likely see the only thing preventing me from buying them: The $60 price tag.
But I really really want them. They’ll last a lot longer than my current shoes (Almost any shoes will outlive my current shoes. But I had a pair of converse once. They lasted for a long time. I think I outgrew them, actually..) And every time I looked at my shoes, my heart would leap with glee. Not only does a badass like Batgirl exist, but she would be on my shoes, looking at me, telling me that I too could kick some ass, if only I set my mind to it….
Anyone want to randomly buy these for me? I’d love you forever. I’d buy them myself, but I’ve really got to save money for going back to school. Who knows what the aid situation will be, or if I’ll be able to transfer jobs if necessary, or anything like that. Buying $60 shoes is not conducive to saving money for school. Not actually expecting anyone to take me up on that offer, but it’s worth a shot. I really REALLY want these shoes. Really really REALLY REALLY want these shoes. And I’m not the type that gets all worked up about shoes all that often….
More interesting post to come later tonight! I promise! I just need to somehow distract myself enough to not buy these shoes….

So, I’ve been running Linux for the past while…Ubuntu specifically…
I installed Windows yesterday so that I could play game with boyfriend…
And then, while trying to make it so that I could boot into both, managed to mess up my windows install as well. So I had to wipe everything and start over again. Whoops…..put windows on first this time, so that it won’t kill the thing I need on the MBR to allow me to boot both…
But…I’ve gotten used to Linux apparently. Keep looking to the top for the time and the IM notifications, keep going to the side to open my programs…it makes me giggle.
Also, I am sick as a dog, and should be asleep, but instead cannot get back to sleep for the life of me. Job finding anxiety (happens whenever I’m unemployed…I just need to make sure I keep it in check which oftentimes doesn’t happen and it makes my job search a bajillion times harder) and general achey-ness.
I really wish I had a car. Not even a new car. Even a used up “shitbox car”, as I call them. I just want something that RUNS. Boyfriend and I have been looking at used cars, but have no idea what to look for. Neither one of us is really versed in cars. And our budget for such things is small. But, once I get a car, it would help with the job search? I’d already have a job if I had a car…I was essentially hired, but then found out it was too far away to walk because the person had been misrepresenting where they were located. So… any suggestions from anyone?
I’ve been on tumblr a lot recently. It’s pretty fun. If you want the URL, just ask. A lot of the stuff on there is feminism related, however, so fair warning…I’m up for debate, sometimes, as long as it’s not the tired old “OMG FEMINISTS HATE MEN AND NEVER SHAVE AND BURN THEIR BRAS AND ARE HORRIBLE!!!”. Because none of that is true. I don’t hate me. I’m pretty fine with people, regardless of their gender (or lack thereof). I try not to judge people on anything but how they act. If you’re a misogynistic guy, then yeah, I’m not gonna like you very much, but that’s more due to the misogyny than the male-ness. Some feminists shave, but some don’t. It’s more of a “Do with your body what you will, regardless of societal restrictions on gender expression” thing. Personally, I shave, but that’s ’cause I’m very obsessive and have issues with certain textures, but I don’t really care what people choice to do with their body hair (except people I’m kissing need to not have facial hair, but that’s another story :-p ). And the whole bra-burning thing? Fuck no, those things are EXPENSIVE!! But more seriously, there’s only ever been one “confirmed” incident of bra-burning, and it’s not even the one most people think of…
Sorry, someone got all annoyed about a picture I posted as a joke on fb a few days ago, and called me a bra-burning, and essentially saying that I was being sexist because I thought it was funny that “pussy” is a term that’s used as both slang for “weak” and “a vagina”, and yet penises and testicles bruise easier than vaginas. Honestly, it was a mix of a play on words and biological fact put together. (Also, my mom jumped into the discussion with me. It was awesome!)
Don’t talk to me about school. I will puke on you if you do. My anxiety seems to be spreading.
Also, my hair is short now. Wicked short. I LOVE it! Only thing is it grows so fast, so it’s hard to keep it this short!
I’m going to rest for a bit. I’m in the process of writing a few pretty damn awesome posts though. So stay tuned!

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