life with talking trees

FUCK YOU.

I didn't do ANYTHING against your TOS nor did I offend anyone. I used no curse words, I did not say anything suggestive or even mildly sexy. My pictures were all of me and there is no nudity (I don't even OWN any nude pics of myself) I was in pleasant contact with three different people which was nice bcause I'd only been an upgraded member for two days. I didnt' even have TIME to do anything horrible.

EVEN if I had, how the fuck can you justify banning people who PAID YOU FOR MONTHS IN ADVANCE without warning or notification or anything??

And from what I've read, you NEVER answer emails.

SO FUCK YOU

I PAID YOU EIGHTY DOLLARS for EIGHT MONTHS of service. You broke that agreement. So tomorrow I'm going to the bank and I'm reversing the charges. My bank (which is a credit union) will actually open an investigation and you'll have to tell them why you decided to break the contract YOU agreed to.

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU and FUCK YOU AGAIN

I have never been so angry at a website before in my life.

So the other night, I was hanging out with J (in a rare evening of camaraderie) and somehow he ended up asking me "how can you be a butch and still be with men?"

Wha?

"I'm a butch with women," I said, "but with men, I dunno, I'm not exactly femme but you don't have to be when you're with a man. I like people for people, I fall in love because of what I see inside people, but sex? Eh, its different depending on who I'm with. I guess that's part of what I love about it."

So I start looking things up and doing research (remember I'm writing a paper soon but I'm also reading "Stone Butch Blues") and realize... I'm genderqueer. Always have been. Never thought much about it though. Because when the rest of the world is pre-occupied with your freakishness, how you express gender doesn't seem to matter anyway. Why should I be concerned about acting "feminine" or not? Why should I bother trying to be "pretty" or "cute" or a myriad of other superlatives that equate with physical beauty? I'll never look anything like the people who are considered "attractive" and nothing, not even surgery will change that. Ever. I've known that all my life. So I never thought about it like that. I express my sexuality and my sensuality however I feel "right" and whether it "fits" or not won't matter in the slightest.

Yes, many of my friends have seen me in a dress, skirt, makeup, the whole made-up nine yards. I even like dressing up that way. I like being "prettified" sometimes just as I like having a vase of flowers on the central table of the room. Its nice. But I'm not going to pretend the flowers will hide the mess in the corner or erase the faded upholstery on the chairs. Prettified is only one little bright spot on an otherwise mundane landscape. Its also temporary. There's nothing wrong with temporary brightness, either, but its foolish to think its the totality of the room.

So Sometimes I wear a dress, skirt, make-up even sexy stockings perhaps. Other times I toss on my favorite t-shirt and a pair of tight skinny jeans over my industrial grade working boots, slick back my hair and adopt a swagger in my walk. Sometimes I wear a party dress and my working boots with a swagger. Sometimes I wear a tuxedo jacket with shorts and satin ballet slippers and fishnet tights. Its not even that I don't give a fuck what people think: I do care what people think. But I don't necessarily adopt their definition of what I should look like. Because I lost as soon as I stepped out of the gate so I'm in no hurry to pretend I'm gunning for the finish line anyway.

more here

I have absolutely no love for Santorum but I REALLY EFFING HATE when he's referred to as "frothy". Its not funny. Its frickin disgusting.

I didn't like it when right-wingers gave Obama a plethora of dumb and offensive names, why would I think its okay for Santorum, a man who has children, to be called something so vile?

And that meme of his picture made up of a pastiche of pictures of gay men? Not disgusting at all but not funny either. I do not agree with the man's religious or "moral" views at all but that doesn't mean I'm going to deface his picture and/or disrespect his views in such a manner that he would be horribly offended by. Good fucknig gawd people grow up.

If you can't grow up, then don't bitch the next time right-wingers are disrespectful of some politician from 'our side'

I like xmas. I'm not a christian and never plan to be one but so far as I see it, xians don't have a hegemony on giving gifts, eating rich fattening foods and loving on their families. So, if you have some sociopolitical beef with the holidays, do me a favor and put it behind a cut. No amount of arguing is going to shake my love of the holiday season. Yes, there's all kindsa negative potential in the holidays but so fucking what? Xmas, like any other holiday, is what you make it. If you want to give gifts, and enjoy the special feeling that comes with making someone smile, great! if you want to sit in your lonely apartment, drink a bunch of liquor and mutter "bah humbug!" at the world, don't let me stand in your way. But don't act like anyone is "ruining the true meaning of the holidays" for you. No one is holding a gun to your head and making you say "season's greetings!" and no one is twisting your arm to make you dress up like santa. If you don't like the symbolism or the commercialism or the history or whatever gets your goat about OTHER PEOPLE'S enactment, then don't participate. I have a great holiday every year despite other people trying to rain on the seasonal parade. THere are things I do from tradition and things I do not. I don't hold the rest of society responsible for how I choose to celebrate.

you can be scared of guns. Hell I'm scared of roaches. Lotsa people are scared of riding in a car. Being scared of guns doesn't bother or surprise me.

But please, stop labelling all gun-holders with "omg they are teh crazy"

If a person owns a gun for personal security, they carry it so they can have it if they need it. That does not mean they carry it just itching to USE it. If they are itching to use their gun, they carry it to the range. Gun owners do not carry their guns because they can't wait to shoot someone. Do you carry a fire extinguisher in your car and you can't wait to use it? Drive around looking for a fire? Intend to start a fire in your car JUST so you can use it? Hell maybe squirt a few rounds for the hell of it? Think about squirt fire extinguisher yucky stuff at innocent bystanders? Take it out during parties so you can let loose on the general public?

Come on people.... hysteria doesn't help anything.

Yes, I have a gun in my house. No, I do not intend to pull it out of its locked box for any reason other than 1)maintenance 2)going to the range to keep my skills up 3)in the horrendous but unlikely event I feel threatened enough to have need of it.

I own an axe too. I do not intend to use it on anyone but if I was cornered in my garage you can sure as hell bet I'd run straight to it and use it. I do not keep my axe where little children can get a hold of it. I have instructed my kids with safety rules concerning dangerous objects such as axes, scythes and lawnmowers. And despite the fact that I think chopping wood is kinda fun and good exercise, I do not pull my axe out after having a few beers and start swinging at other folks' heads. Because I'm not a psychopath and I'm also not a moron. Like most people who also own axes.

First, a link:

Penis Love in a bottle


Second, a continuation:

The day before yesterday I posted a lengthy no-holds-barred (well okay yeah I didn't cuss... I was feeling erudite n'shit) generalized rant about popular American Culture and how mean-spirited it can come across to those of us who don't fit the mold.

That was only half of what I wanted to say. What follows is the second half.

Dear Individual Americans from my past,

I want to take this moment to truly place the blame for my condition where it belongs. It was you, oh mostly anonymous people from my past, who are to blame for me turning out the way I have. Because of a huge assortment of mostly anonymous (to me) people, I am who I am today.

To all the people who took me in when I was a baby, while my birthmother was AWOL and my father was on the road, be assured that I have been affected by your treatment of me. I don't remember any of you, I surely don't know your names or where you are but I do know that without you, I wouldn't have the present instant trust issues that I have were it not for your caring of me during that critical time in my development. Whenever someone accuses me of being too trusting, too quick to embrace a stranger's POV, I blame you people for that. After all, if you strangers (to me) had not taken me in, a tiny toddler with absent parents, and loved me, cared for me and looked after me, I might have become distant, mistrustful and frightened of strangers. I might have ended up with a healthy xenophobia like the rest of the country. It is your fault I am ready to believe and trust strange people.
It is your fault I make friends so quickly and easily too. If I had not been carted around, introduced to friends and family and integrated into your own families, as if I were your precious baby instead of the strange burdensome white kid that I actually was, I might have ended up believing myself to be unimportant, unloved and unwanted, thus becoming too alienated from people to actually attempt to form bonds and open my heart to others. It is your fault I am so ready to like people: too much love and caring went into your fostering of me and now to this day I believe people are willing to like me and accept me. Too often I am right and too often do I discount when I am wrong. Thus I know it was your heinous influence upon my spirit that allows me to approach total strangers in certain settings in order to socialize with them and enjoy the experience. As for the exploitation of this "talent" by my friends who were usually too shy to approach others and form bonds, I blame you for this as well. Therefore, there are quite a few people from my past who were also affected by your influence upon me. Many people benefitted from your teaching me how to be "brave" and friendly and went on to gain friendships and close bonds because of my ability to connect others socially and I'm sure they too blame you for those social bonds that I began. They are quite well aware of this, so there's no need for them to chastise you personally, but I thought I'd mention it on their behalf.

To the teachers and volunteers from my grade school, know that I remember you (even your names!) and think of you often whenever I get excited about learning something new. It is your fault I have such a profound curiousity and am unafraid of uncovering new information. It is also your fault I have such a boundless thirst for knowledge that is intangible and multi-dimensional. Because of your constant prodding, pushing and praising, I cannot stumble upon anything new or unknown without furiously pursuing more. Because of your bizarre approach to teaching, I cannot be satisfied to let my brain calcify and degrade, even at 40 years old! Rest assured I know how influential you were to my never-ending quest for understanding as well. If it were not for your belief that all children want to learn and your insistance that children can learn best by non-standard methods such as "open-classrooms", "peer mentoring" and "voluntary scheduling" I would not have this wholistic belief in the power of environmental learning. Without your exhaustive work in presenting myriad forms of learning-through-play I doubt I would have such enjoyment whenever I discover something unknown to me. It is your fault I research so relentlessly everything I find dubious and enjoy doing so. It is your fault I never want to stop discovering things and it is your fault I have so much fun finding out what I don't know especially from other people.

To the children who went to all those private schools with me, know that I remember most of you (yes, names too!) and I remember how kind and accepting you were to me, the freak. It is your fault that I often forget how feakish I look and expect equal treatment from people. It is your fault I believe such equal treatment nearly always comes and conveniantly forget how often it does not come. Because of how nonchalantly you accepted me into your circles and made friends with me, I am the accepting person I am today. Of course I sometimes get angry because other people sometimes cannot be as accepting and friendly as you were with me and for that unreasonable reaction, I blame you too. Since the bulk of my formative years were spent with people and children who were encouraged to see the similarities within us and celebrate the differences between us, I still approach others as if they would have good reason to overlook my appearance and accept who I am on the inside and believe that to be the case the majority of the time. Growing up sensing that most people would rather be my friend rather than be my enemy, I still carry that sensibility with me ever after and it is mostly your fault.

To all the lovers I have had in my life (and yes I remember every one of you quite well), know that it is your fault that I believe myself to be beautiful and sexy despite the media's constant reminders of how unacceptably ugly I am. Despite my realistic understanding of how I am superficially viewed by society, I still believe myself to be attractive and worthy of love and lust anyway. Even on days when I look in the mirror and feel hideous, I remember some of you specificly and know my feelings are merely transitory flights of fancy that, although shared by society-at-large, ultimately do not matter to the people who are important. It is your fault that I care enough to wear nice clothes occasionally, put on makeup and parade about as if I am someone who makes others feel good just by being near. I blame you for my persistant belief in the individual nature of people's libidinous preferences. Even though society never fails to remind me of how I should lock myself away in shame and never expect love or sexual contact, I didn't and it is your fault.

To all the intimate relationships I have had in my life, (need I say it?) know that it is your fault that I expect courtesy and respect in every relationship I had after you. Despite the arguments, the tears, the broken hearts and the near-misses that we went through, I retained an immense measure of caring and love for each one of you that reamins to this day. It is your fault that I carry these friendships with me still despite having declared our intimacy to be finalized or cut-short. The fact that nearly all of your chose to remain friends with me, keep in touch with me and share yourselves with me in spite of our relationship "failings" convinced me then as now that good people sometimes cannot make an intimate relationship but that does not mean they cannot still be close. Because of all your attempts to help me grow and change, whether or not it worked and whether or not it helped our intimacy, I keep all of you in my heart and consider all of you people who are more than deserving of not only my love but all the goodness the universe has to offer. Because each of you has remained true to your word to love me despite our "break ups" I still believe that love holds fast whatever changes occur in a relationship. I would not be so happy to call you "friend" were it not for your ability to focus on our good ties, rather than the things that pulled us apart. I blame you for my ability to listen, grow and change after I should have stopped growing and changing. I especially blame you for my desire to do so with grace and love since you all were so understanding and patient with me whenever I was not being graceful or loving in my changes.

To my children and everyone in my extended family, know that it is your fault I believe in such things as loyalty and truth. Were it not for all of you constantly supporting me and helping me through everythign I have gone through, I would not be as secure and honest as I am. It is your fault I expect greatness of spirit and and ready to embrace failure as a lesson learned. Were it not for your ever-present belief in my ability to overcome obstacles and the security of knowing you were always there to help me pick up the pieces of a life gone awry, I would not be as grounded as I am today. It is your fault I am ready to accept defeat but keep on fighting, your fault I am happy to find new lessons in someone elses changes and your fault I reaffirm my own competance on a daily basis. You always believed in me, even when I was falling and because of you I am ever-ready to keep trying. You all taught me how to fight for what you want, what you believe and what you know is right. I would not be a paladin if it weren't for all of you showing me how to crusade and giving me reasons to crusade.

To my husband... not one lesson in my life compares to everything I have gained since being with you.

I used to say that I was lucky growing up... now I know that I just had "a life"; luck had nothing to do with it. All I received? It's all around and everywhere... just look for it and I bet you can find it too.

I got a migraine attack something fierce at work today. I came to work around 7am, but no one was there. Wha?? The manager finally drives up, hustles to the door and let's us both in. Just the two of us. Wha? Turns out the opening crew came to work on time, sans one person. That one person was the person who had the keys to open the door. The three who were left, called everyone they could but no one answered their phone. THey finally left and went to their respective homes. One person kept calling the manager until they finally woke him up. He came running to the store. I clocked in 15 minutes early to help him open the store. What is supposed to take about 30 minutes, we did in less than 5. Well actually, we didn't; he just opened the store before we were ready. As a result, we gave away about 4 litres of coffee because the cash register was not ready. Heaven forbid we should ask our precious customers to wait for their fucking coffee. Heaven forbid we just tell them to go up the the street to one of the other Starbuck's! There was a guy who sat in his car, waiting at least an hour, just to get his freakin Starbucks coffee!

I really mean it when I say, Starbuck's customers are the most spoiled people on the planet. They get away with murder in the store and have ridiculous expectations about how completely they want their ass kissed. Mind you, if you go into a Starbucks; unless you are polite, most of us behind that counter automatically think you are a big spoiled brat. Don't even start to defend yourself. If you can't be the least bit polite to the poor jerk standing behind that counter then you are just as spoiled as all the other rich assholes who come in to my particular store. I can't tell you how many people came in today who were so nice and understanding to me, while I moved around like a sloth, crippled by red-hot-pokers in my brain and blurred vision and nausea. But for every nice customer (most of whom are regulars) there had to be at least four or five people who were annoyed, snappish, rude and snobby to boot about how I was handling the situation. People can't even smile, what's up with that?! Even though I was actively thinking about just walking off and "fuck this stupid job!" I still managed to smile at every customer, be polite and courteous and give them what they wanted. Oh but I guess I forgot, I'm just a stupid peon who is obvioudly beneath the likes of the special golden Starbuck's customers. Believe me, I wanted nothing more than to go home and cry myself to sleep in a darkened room but Starbuck policy is that unless you are at the emergency room, you are responsible for finding someone else to cover your shift. If you can't find someone, oh well too bad for you. Eventually, someone agreed to cover the last two hours of my shift, so I got to go home. But the last hour was torture... I really mean that. Every time I moved suddenly, new spikes of searing pain shot through my brain and neck. I was worried I would end up barfing on the counter in front of people.

One nap and lunch later and I think the worst is over. Yeah, my head is still pounding but after a while, you go ahead and do what you gotta do because it doesn't matter. Whether I lie down or sit up, read, write or watch a video, my head's going to feel the same, so I might as well do somethng pleasant. That's why I'm going to go dig up my old copies of Beavis and Butthead and watch them all.

This rant has been brought to you by the letter "F" and "u" and by the number "google"

a recent post by spoonfeeding got me thinking about le odeur de buttcrack.
( be forewarned, this is graphic )