femmybytch

In Myspace I posted a bulletin announcing a protest at the US/Canadian Border. A friend who read it then proceeded to call me to see if I was standing up for illegal immigration. The protest is to put an end to vigilant racist Minute Men and the call for militarization of the border. My friend proceeded to give me her spiel about illegal immigrants taking our jobs in a condencending tone. She also went on a small rant about how children are now being taught Spanish in U.S. schools. In that rant, she stated that, "they come illegally to the U.S. and they can't speak English..." Yeah because if they could speak English its likely they came from a well-to-do family and therefore wouldn't need to sneak through the border.

First of all, not to sound conceited, but I'm far more educated in the world of ethnic issues and current world problems. And secondly, please... I do not want to pick fruits and vegetables or clean someone's toilets for a few dollars a day only to have to send it back to my family in Mexico or Guatemala or Columbia or wherever. Due to their lack of education and their willingness to survive, they will take any job available and those are not jobs I would ever want to do.

Plus, just because they had to sneak over the border for their safety and survival doesn't mean they are criminals. Were the Jews who escaped the Holocaust by sneaking away to other countries criminals? Some also came to America and are working. Shall we also cast them as horrible because of it? Also, because Jews aren't Christians and don't celebrate Christmas thus creating the need for the U.S. to also place a giant Menorah next to the President's Christmas tree, does that mean that we need to be appalled at the idea of being "forced" to accomodate them? If that is even accomodating but merely being respectful.

I can rant on this for hours. I'm just appalled by my friend's true show of disgusting nationalism and racism. I end by quoting Alicia Silverstone's character, "Cher," in one of my favorite teenage films, Clueless. She said, "...and our statue of liberty does not say 'RSVP'... so the more the merrier!" or something like that.

Because I feel like my life has changed a lot, I feel as though it is appropriate to log it. Last year, I distinctly remember feeling bummed that my so called best friend, Carrie, wasn't able to hang out with me on New Year's Eve. I felt lonely and in need of companionship. I ended up spending that night alone.

I felt very alone. I had gone through a lot of heartbreak and a rough changeover of friends that had yet to be completed. This time last year, I suffered from a lot of lonliness.

Its funny how life changes so dramatically. Carrie and I decided to end every bit of friendship we had. I went from a community college student to a student at a university. I moved from applying to Western to looking into graduate schools. I moved from Dorothy Place Apartments and am looking to move again to a nicer neighborhood. I made many friends--all eclectic and all I adore greatly. I'm finding my niche and I'm feeling much more comfortable in my own skin.

I had a wonderful New Year's Eve and a really great beginning to 2006. I hung out with Scott. Both of us had friends who had fallen ill so we went alone. As is normal in our nights out, we started the night off with drinks at The Black Cat. I had my now usual White Russian. We then finished off the year at Rumors. The cover charge was expensive but we were greeted with hats, noise makers, a spread of food, and free champagne at midnight. We chugged the free champagne because after paying the cover, we were much too poor to buy drinks.

After midnight, Scott and I headed for The Horseshoe Cafe for coffee. I promised a guy that I'd meet him there. He and I ended hitting it off. (For those of you who don't know, Scott is gay and he's just a friend.) KC, the new boy, and I spent all day together. We watched Chronicles of Narnia which was very well done. I still find myself clinging on to my singleness but I think it would be okay to have a guy in my life right now.

My ear infection, the same one that refuses to go away, has flared up again. Ironically, I had made an appointment to see a specialist this morning for the 10th of January because I felt it was starting to get worse slightly. I figured I would be able to last until the 10th but I ended up getting far worse as the day went on. By the afternoon, I was experiencing a fever and throbbing. I tried to make an appointment with my general doctor but they couldn't take me in until Tuesday. The nurse at my doc's then spoke to my doc and he said he'd prescribe me the same antibiotic he's been prescribing me since September. Forget that! I turned those down saying they don't work and went to a walk-in clinic. The doctor there prescribed me a stronger antibiotic drop with a steroid for my ear, pain med that i drop in my ear, and an oral antibiotic. Its been in my ear for about an hour and I already feel better. I will be able to go to work tomorrow I think. This is good as I'm looking to face termination if I need to go home sick one more time... coverage or not. Yeah, corporations are lovely and oh so human-friendly aren't they? I did, however, get a doctor's note that states that I should be home tomorrow due to the infection and fever. I supposed I could take advantage of that if I needed to. I'm not willing to risk it though.

I have spent the last month in sheer frustration with the holiday help at my work. Today was my final straw. This one girl, we shall call "dumb bitch" has been plaguing me, since she started, with her copious amounts of shit. She doesn't listen to her superiors, follow rules, show up on time, or respect anyone. I have kindly and calmly been forced to put up with her snapping at me in front of customers simply because she's too stupid to figure out the registers and I have to help her out (amongst the myriad of other crap i have to do) in order to have the register stop beeping at me. Today, "dumb bitch" tagged the sale in the morning. Since anyone reading this is very unlikely to understand what she did wrong or the lingo I could write down, I will say that what she did made us spend the whole day fixing. In all my years at my job, I have never seen such a horrible job ever been done. She isn't staying on as a permanent employee and she is really unsure why.

I had a good Christmas. My family spent Christmas at my sister's house. She made breakfast and then we opened stockings and presents. I got a gift certificate to a spa, a set of jadite earings and necklaces,and two DVD's. I will be getting my two-hour Swedish massage as soon as I can get in. To see the best masseuse, I have to make an appointment a month in advance. I'm aching all over just thinking about it.

I've been very grumpified as I haven't had much time to myself. I hate working full-time in retail when its so busy. Customers can be demanding and bitchy and it takes a lot in me to be calm, patient, and have a good attitude. Coupled with the inexperienced Holiday Helpers and "dumb bitch," I have been surprised I have been as good as I have. I really need a vacation though. I need that massage. I spent my free time Christmas shopping and going to the Black Drop to read. The Black Drop is the absolute best coffee shop in Whatcom County. Aside from super awesome coffee, they have this couch that is so perfectly comfortable in every way. Its not the most attractive thing but the comfort is amazing.

I talked to one of my assistant managers at work about how I've been feeling very grumpy and agitated. He suggested something that was actually so brilliant although should have been obvious to me. Tai Bo. Now I doubt I'd do Tai Bo but doing something both physical and aggressive would be ideal. I think I'm going to look around for something. Maybe I'll take up Yoga.. something I've never enjoyed doing in the past but I hear if you stick to it it becomes peaceful. Plus with my messed up back, it might be much more healing for me and less stressful on the body than something like Tai Bo. I find that this assistant manager is the best to go to for advice; its always very good. He's like the big brother at my work amongst a crapload of females who love to talk about the panties they bought on sale at Victoria secret and the periods we have to endure. I'm sure that by the time he's a store manager, he's going to know everything there is to know about vaginas, menstruation,good tampon brands, what kind of bras make us uncomfortable, where we can't find bras in our sizes, what are bra sizes are, the underwear we each like to wear, how much we paid for our underwear... he'll know when we're bloated and how enormously swollen our breasts are, and the huge shits we took in the guy's bathroom (because we don't want to stink up the girl's). We hold nothing back. Poor guy.

Innocently, my friend Scott and I went to Rumors to drink and play pool. We had no idea it was Fetish Night when we got there. The lady taking our cover charge warned us though and we were both feeling confident that it was cool. And it was completely cool. We just didn't realize exactly how out of place we looked and felt. Boobs and ass could be found everywhere. Parts that were covered were done so with leather and lace. Whips were a common accessory as well. It was S and M night. The highlight of the night were two oil wrestling matches. One match was between a hot black guy wearing shiny bikini underwear who fought a breast-bearing bull-dyke. She won! The second match was between two women who were dating each other. They were totally hamming it up. It was fun but I felt out of my element and very conservatively dressed. But, I'll probably be more comfortable if there is a next time.

I hate my job. Why is it that the only jobs I can get are the ones where I help a company make money? Why can't I just do fun shit all day that don't require helping a business make money? For instance, I'd like to get paid to go hiking or read or write. I'd like to get paid to read to children stories and stuff. I love reading to kids. Instead, I get paid to convince people they want stuff and that they want to buy their stuff on a credit card. My job has no empathy for the sick. And the meager pay we get doesn't reflect the "appreciation" they claim they have a ton of. I miss the good old days when I was five and didn't have to know anything about work. My biggest issue at five years old with work was when my mom told me to pick my stuff up in the living room.

I went grocery shopping today and ran into a guy who looks like a younger version of Professor Snape minus the wizard clothing but plus a "goth-like" outfit including a sports jacket and scarf. I wanted to hump him. For some odd reason, I think Professor Snape is hot. Don't ask why.

Thank God fall quarter is done with... well besides the one class I have to attend to tomorrow. In which case, all I have to do is show up and listen to others give their presentations because I gave mine yesterday! Oh... and we're having a potluck in that class so I will be eating as well.

I enjoy the fact that we give teacher evaluations because I certainly had something to say about one of my professors who will remain nameless on the internet. The class that she teaches gave me stomach aches every time I was in it. I've never been in such a hostile learning environment. Yuck.

I'm so sick of being broke. I need to look for a new job because the place I currently work at has gone down hill. The corporation, anyhow, not my store. I feel like I'm stuck in a rut. I have to find a place with medical benefits because of my kidney so I can't just find a place that looks fun. I hate life right now.

He still is.. :)

Your 80s Heartthrob Is

Michael J. Fox

I went to this advanced school that had a lot of money when I was in the seventh grade. It was the second middle school I went to that year. I was enrolled in a technology/spreadsheets class and I remember my teacher teaching me stuff that was "new" and "advanced." It was. But back then, it was still new. The internet was as new-fangled a thing as the black iPod thing is today. The thing that stood out in my mind was my teacher wanting to teach me all about web-page design. He described how you can click on a "link" and it will take you to a whole nother screen of things. "wow....," I thought... Man... what will we think of next. Low and behold, here I am, twelve years later, clicking on things... downloading 180 songs onto my little itty bitty iPod shuffle (which, I might add, is far more convienant than those damn discmans all the kids were showing off those years too...which i had refused to get because they wasted so many batteries and my allowance simply wasn't enough to cover them).

My ear really really wreaks of garlic. Its making me nautious. I might just stop the garlicky ear drops. I want to continue liking garlic in the years to come.

This last weekend was one of suffering. Its a beautiful, blue-skied day today but I can't go out and enjoy it. My ear is killing me. Stabbing pains from an ear that's gushing puss has been my weekend excitement and my daily hassle. The air outside is too cold for me to bear as it causes unbearable pain. However, I had to go to my doc's to get treated, so I was able to enjoy the beautiful outdoors in between the throbs.

My doctor, unfortunatly, is hot. He's so sexy, he could be on a calender. Its unfortunate because the last thing I want is to run across an educated, attractive man, while I'm sick and looking my worst. He's good at his job, so I keep him around.

I got yet another prescription for ear drops. I've decided that the Fred Meyer pharmacy is the worst I've ever been to and they have to compete with the military's pharmacy.

"Come back in 25 minutes,its not ready" the guy told me. I went shopping. I headed straight for the homeopathic section to look for ear stuff. I used their computer, educating myself. I looked for the proper homeopathic remedy to work in conjuction with the prescription so that this time, the bacteria (or possible fungus as my doctor is currently having a culture tested for), will die. Die fuckers, die. Ah ha. I found the stuff. Garlic ear drops.

Having spent twenty-five minutes perusing, I walked back to the pharmacy, garlic ear drops in hand, to see if my order was filled.

"Its not ready yet, come back in 15 minutes," said the girl. I went shopping some more. Deciding not to stray too far from the pharmacy, I decided to go check out their c.d.'s. I want the Kaiser Chiefs now. I wasted some more minutes and then came back.

"Its not ready yet, can you wait 2-3 mintues?"

"Can I wait right here at the counter?" I asked. Although looking a bit irritated, he let me. I had waited long enough and was about to start inquiring why the wait time had totaled over an hour's time. After five minutes, I was finally handed my prescription. Finally!

With anticipation and hope that the new medicine will cure me and help my pain go away, I went home. I had been assured by the pharmacist that the homeopathic drops wouldn't counter the prescription's effectiveness. I put the garlicky ear drops in first. Waited. Waited. Waited. Time! I let the brown fluid drain out smelling the garlic that made me hungry. Oddly enough, immediate pain relief! I put the prescription ear drops in. Waited. Waited. Waited. Time! I let the milky white ear fluid drain out of my ears. It has a medicine, acidic, smell.

Ahhh....better!

I smell... no... I wreak of garlic but I feel better :)

One of the many rare delights I have is running into old childhood friends. Being a Navy Brat, the occurances are extremely rare as it is often that we move far away from each other. Just today, however, I ran into an old friend. Our friendship started in the third grade. She was fresh to the U.S., from the Filippines, and her English was poor. I was new to Oak Harbor, having just moved from Texas, and we were in the same third grade class together. I was good at phonics and always done with my classwork early so our teacher, Ms. Smith, always made me help Maricris. I remember it upsetting me because I wanted to play, which was a reward for being done with classwork early, but I was always ordered to tutor Maricris. I thought, at the time, that Ms. Smith was picking on me. I know now that it wasn't the case but when you're just a kid, you may think otherwise. Maricris and I played on the playground a lot. Our favorite games were Chinese Jumproap, four-square, and wall-ball. Our other friend, Jamie, played with us. The three of us played together and stayed together until I moved after sixth grade. Both Maricris and Jamie wrote back and forth to me, staying in contact the best we could. I eventually moved back to Washington my Sophomore year of high school. Maricris and I lost contact but Jamie and I hung out. She accompanied me to a homecoming dance at my highschool because I wanted to go but didn't know a soul yet. I went to her wedding. Jamie and I have lost contact, but I have no doubt in my mind that we will run into each other as I know where her mom lives and I can always stop by and visit.

I've gone on with my life since elementary school, of course, making new "best friends" and then losing "best friends." The most painful experience was realizing that my so-called "best friend," Carrie was a horrible back-stabber who I suppose was never a true friend in the slightest. When Carrie's true colors showed through, I remember the pain was similar to what I suppose having a sister or a family member decide they hated you would feel like. I felt a huge loss.

The day when Carrie's crap came out, I called my friend Hannah who immediately came up to see me. Along with her was my other friend, Diane. I remember that when I was hurt, Carrie never came to my aid unless her boyfriend convinced her to. Carrie was never one to be by anyone's side in their times of hurt or trouble. She was selfish. Being used to feeling as though calling on a friend for comfort was inconveniencing them, I didn't even remotely expect Hannah, or Diane, to drive way out of her way to be there for me.

Recently, I have gotten back in contact with Maricris. Just when I thought losing Carrie was a tragedy, it occured to me that in the end, it is nothing. There's a comforting feeling getting back in contact with the friends one's had since childhood. It makes the loss of one friend whom I have only known for a few years, minor, when I think about the duration of my friendship with Jamie and Maricris. Although, the friendships are sometimes distant, its always there.

When I was four, my sister, my neighbors, and I put on a play for our parents. Our theme song was, "make new friends but keep the old.... one is silver and the other gold." The play went off well minus the part where I stepped on a bee in the grass with my bare feet and was stung. We still keep in contact with those kids too.

I'm suddenly reminded of a kid named Mike Hunter, who always got called into the office when we were in high school. His older sister, Heather, was in my class. Also in my class was a kid named, Dan. In a small high school, everyone knows everyone and Dan knew Mike and Heather. In an attempt to catch Mike skipping, the office often called Mike.
"Mike Hunter to the office," the secretary would call.
Giggles would ring throughout my classroom when the mischievious Dan would twist every name around to make it sound funny.
"My cunt hurts," announced Dan after hearing the secretary call for Mike. The realization occured suddenly that Mike Hunter's name sounded very close to the aformentioned statement. Since then, everytime I have a period, I am reminded of Mike Hunter.

But my period isn't for a couple of days. I don't mark the days on a calender and I don't remember dates. Those ideas don't work. I simply know when my body is ovulating because there are obvious signs. I know that a couple of days after I start ovulating, I will start my period. Right now, my ear hurts. Those on Myspace who have read my blogs know that a couple of months ago I was having a battle with a certain ear infection that built dams of gunk in my ear canal and caused some serious throbbing that felt more like stabbings with a q-tip into the very innards of my ear. I cried, "uncle," but it didn't help. I went and saw a specialist who took a "ear doctor" version of "Mr. Thirsty" and sucked out globs and globs of the yellowish gunk that my little ear beavers put in place to create their little cesspool of bacteria. After Mr. Thirsty got his fill, my ear had been free of its dam and I could hear again. The throbbing ceased and the swelling ceased and I was delighted. But now its back...with a vengeance...dum dum dum.