Saturday, August 27, 2011

Shit List #2

Next on my list: People who honk in tunnels.  Now this, I admit, was brought more clearly to my attention by living in Monterey.  However, it applies to anyone who honks in a tunnel for fun, ESPECIALLY if that tunnel is within a mile of any residential area.
I have been living in Monterey for over 3 years now and I have to take a tunnel almost every day.  Let me tell you something: I can count on ONE hand the number of times I have gone through that tunnel without one person honking.  I joke with my husband that we should have a worker injury-like sign above the tunnel that says "Lighthouse Tunnel: Asshole-Free Since___."  And then we would just have to write in NEVER because there's always someone honking.  It doesn't matter what time of day it is either.  It could be 11 at night and these jerk-offs would be laying on their horn.
So, here's my message to people who honk in tunnels-- GROW THE F&^%K UP.  It's fine to have superstitions like holding your breath while driving past graveyards or knocking on your dashboard when you see a police car.  You know why?  Because those things don't annoy EVERYONE around you and depreciate property value for poor deafened families who will go through their lives with some kind of special tinnitus from honking assholes!  Think about someone other than yourself for once and find a way to have fun that DOESN'T hurt and irritate everyone around you.
This is your warning, honkers.  You are on my shit list.

You've Just Made the LIST

Alright--seeing as how I've got an unusual amount of rage roiling inside of me, and I'm supposed to be all "at peace" to keep the cancer away, I need to let off some steam.  So until the world changes, OR until I care less that the world will never change, I am temporarily dedicating my blog to this--my shit list.
The first violators, while not technically human, are just as maddening.  I guess I should clarify, too, that my beef is with ROGUE ants.  I mean, I saw A Bug's Life and Pixar can sure make any creature seem adorable, but those ants were marching in their little ant trail trying to bring back crumbs for their families.  I GET that.  These ants (the ones in my apartment) are just assholes.  
I open up a box of cereal and pour it into the bowl?  ANTS.  In the frikkin' box.  NOT bringing food back to any colony but just crawling around enjoying their destruction of my food.  Maybe they are in a hedonistic ant colony!  Maybe they praise some Ant Bacchus or Hedonism Bot--anything is possible!
Okay I'm going to tell you something now.  It's a horrible story but, like many trauma victims, I am hoping talking about it helps.  Alright.  So I go into the kitchen to get some of my (ex) favorite snack, Trader Joe's dark chocolate mints.  The bag is open but folded shut.  I reach in and grab a handful, putting them in my mouth.  Now, you would think that the movement would be the first thing I noticed but it wasn't.  It was the taste.  Instead of mints, it tasted like I was sucking on graveyard dirt.  Then I looked down.  Writhing in my bag of mints were DOZENS of ants.  Without missing a beat, I spit out all the mints....but there were STILL SOME ANTS IN MY MOUTH.
Long story short, after gargling for nearly an hour with scalding hot water and screaming at the ants that I would kill them and their families, the ants were gone.  The memory, however, is destined to remain forever.  
So, ants, you are now on my shit list.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Donate THIS (grabs crotch region): An open letter to the ACLU

Dear ACLU,
I say this as a valued donor: LEAVE ME THE F&*%$ ALONE.  I donated money to you for many reasons.  One of the reasons was that I actually DID have a minute after wandering out of Trader Joe's one day.  The other is that I care a lot about civil liberties.  Yet another is that any organization the hard-right GOP attacks as "communist" usually has my vote.  You had all those things going for you, ACLU!  I would have gladly donated money when I had some to spare off and on forever had you NOT STARTED STALKING ME!
For the last month, one to THREE times a day I have been receiving calls from the ACLU.  They call me during work, during dinner, on weekends and when I am enjoying a good US Weekly if you know what I mean.  I told them I did not have enough to donate.  I called today and asked to be taken off the list.  You know what they did?  They CALLED 45 MINUTES LATER.  AGAIN.
So, listen up ACLU and please hear me: I AM BREAKING UP WITH YOU.  I am NEVER donating to you again.  I'm not going to even use my awesome Twinkies break-up line on you because you don't deserve it.  It's not me.  It's YOU.
You see, the correct response when someone donates money to charity is to say "thanks."  OR to say nothing; I don't care!  I don't donate money to keep your phone operators happy.  I donate money because kids in Alabama still aren't allowed to go to their prom if they're gay.  I'm not a prom person--I was never into the prom.  But kids should be allowed to go to their frikkin' prom if they want to.  If gay kids aren't allowed to go to the prom, then Charlie Sheen shouldn't be allowed to exist.  Put that specious reasoning in your pipe and smoke it, ACLU because I totally agreed with you!  I want to change the world in any little way I can.  
But I am a recently credentialed educator who is afraid to take a teaching job because the stress might bring her cancer back.  That's right.  This is who you are harassing.  An underemployed teacher with cancer.  STILL WANT TO TAKE MY MONEY?!  WELL, I DON'T HAVE IT BECAUSE I'M SPENDING IT ON NETFLIX AND STAYING ALIVE...AND TRUST ME NETFLIX IS A BIG PART OF THAT!
So, to reiterate: never call me again as you have lost your donor.  I am officially with the HRC, as they gave me a sticker, said thank you and only sent me a letter once a year asking for more money like a frikkin' NORMAL charity.
Peace OUT.

Into the Sunset

Okay, so it's been a while since I have written a blog.  There are a few reasons for that.  One is that I spent a good portion of the past month on my honeymoon, moving and starting work.  The real reason, however, is that I'm not sure how much I want my focus to be on a disease (even on kicking its butt) that I'm trying to move past.  
I can't call myself cancer-free for at least a five years and even then it's something I will always have to live with.  I can, however, try and focus on my life as opposed to just cancer.  I have been trying to come up with a way to make this blog evolve into something beyond just fighting cancer.  The only way I can think to do that besides quitting altogether or speeding up time is to open up my focus.  Hence the change in name.