Friday, September 30, 2011

My Cupcake cost $1.75

On some level I've always known that there must be at least a few Republicans at UC Berkeley, the Holy Grail of liberal academia (no judgment, merely a statement of fact).  I assumed perhaps a few legacies...maybe a handful of students trying to gather intel on the enemy...sleepers, if you will.  But enough...and out at that...for a CLUB?  Never, in a million years, would I have guessed!!!  As it happens, however, a club there is...and active, too!  When the Berkeley College Republicans caught wind that students were setting up a phone bank on campus to flood Governor Brown with calls to sign the, already passed, SB 185, they knew they needed to hold a counter-"demonstration," in so much as Republicans are capable of holding a "demonstration," rally, protest, etc...

California SB 185 is essentially an end-run around Prop 209 which prohibits "affirmative action."
It would “authorize the University of California and the California State University to consider race, gender, ethnicity, and national origin, along with other relevant factors, in undergraduate and graduate admissions."  What it doesn't do, is provide for any guidelines as to how this information is to be used or require the student's socioeconomic background, or any other factors, be considered as well.  CA SB185 eliminates accountability in the school's admissions process and offers preferential treatment based solely on race, gender, or anything else the school or, frankly, an individual with an agenda on the admission committee, chooses creating an incredible potential for abuse! 

Realizing this, though how the California Legislature missed it I'll never know, the Berkeley College Republicans organized an "Increase Diversity Bake Sale."  Anything that in any way gives one race treatment different than that of another, is, by definition, racist.  The BCR decided to illustrate blatant racism in CA SB 185 with CUPCAKES!  Ok, they had cookies and other baked goods as well, but...I'm all about the cupcake.  The baked goods were sold to "white men for $2, Asian men for $1.50, Latino men for $1, black men for 75 cents and Native American men for 25 cents. All women received 25 cents off those prices."  Wow, SB185 supporters, when you look at it that way, it does appear a little racist, doesn't it though?  For the record, as self-reported by UC Berkeley, White students:  31.7%  Asian:  45.7%  Latino:  11.5%  Black:  3.4%  Native American:  .08%  By the way, I thought they were "Indigenous Persons to North America"  I can't keep up.

How is this supposed to work?  I wish I could be friends with you, Skip, but you'll have to wait.  It would appear I need to add an Asian guy and a Latina first.

So here they are, middle of Berkeley, phone bank encouraging racism being "protested" by cupcakes.  Not to be outdone, the SB185 supporters stage a counter-counter-"demonstration."  Naturally, as it was in their wheelhouse, they started out far more traditionally...marching and signs and the like...lots of Birkenstocks and patchouli.  Clearly the geniuses failed to take into account the fact that all of their marching and shouting and protesting would make it a bit difficult to hear over yonder at the bank.  Soon enough the phone bank got a reprieve from the noise.  Gone are the days of our parents having to step over the unwashed masses staging a noon, whether as part of their protest or as a sign of the times...and laziness...they held nap time!!!  Are you joking?!?  A group, all dressed in black, comprised, statistically of more than 75% white and Asian students, lying down in the middle of campus, during classes, as a form of social protest?  Right.  Nothing about that seems in any way inappropriate or lazy.  Really, really lazy.  Make a little effort.  Though I suppose asking the tie-dye set to make a little effort is shooting for the moon considering their relationship with personal hygiene.

What the SB185 supporters never saw coming?  Let's not make a list...I'm referring strictly to the loud background noise making phone calls difficult thing.  Ok, and the lying down and taking a midday nap being a ludicrous form of "protest" too.  But there was someone who wasn't quite done yet.  The one man, THE MAN, who, above all others, needed to weigh in on the issue, stepped right up to buy his $.75 cupcake!  The UC Board member, the man behind Prop 209...that which prohibits "affirmative action," the founder and chairman of the American Civil Rights Institute...Ward Connerly himself.  (LOVE him!  He's no Oliver North or Colin Powell, and he's certainly not the Duke, the Holy Father JPII, or Ronnie, but...LOVE!)  Take the hint, SB185 supporters, the very successful and influential, and in case no one noticed Black, Ward Connerly is buying a $.75 cupcake because SB185 is racist...just sayin'... 

I still can't quite decide my favourite part.  The cupcakes?  The counter-demonstration?  The counter-counter-demonstration?  The fact that Ward Connerly showed up and the dear, misguided, Berkeley types are still missing the fact that they're supporting racism? think this is it...the fact that a good number of the students supporting SB185 are from any state but California, therefore, Mummy and Daddy get no tuition breaks as they write each check to what they consider to be a cringe-worthy and laughable educational institution...which sonny-boy is only going because he felt the need to "rebel," against his oppressive, dreadful, and otherwise horrific, Jake Ryan-esque, he opted for UC Berkeley...from where, upon graduation, he hit the real world.  Sonny boy lasts about 5 minutes before running home and makes VP of Nepotism at Daddy Warbucks, Inc. by 27 with a mid-6 figure income and a maid that is...kind of, sort of..."undocumented," shall we say, whose son he wants her to home-school so that he won't be eligible for a free education, via the Dream Act, at Sonny boy's Alma Mater. 

And in true Disney fashion, I leave you with this,
"It's the circle of life..."


Wednesday, September 28, 2011

This Tastes Like Shampoo!

Picture it...a lovely morning in a beautiful, gated, golf course community, just north of Daytona Beach.  Two spectacularly gorgeous women...though the elder of the pair can often be heard yelling words, muffled by her closed door, at her mirror, and constantly trying to feed the younger fruit...lounge by the pool drinking coffee and gossiping.
The elder says, "Let's go to St. Augustine for the afternoon.  I'll take you to Harry's for your blackened chicken and pomegranate martinis..."
As, in case you hadn't guessed, I am the younger of these two women, and Mother knowing just how to manipulate me, adds, "After lunch we'll go to the wine tasting at San Sebastian."
"When do you want to leave, Mother," I query as I'm already getting dressed, because, really?  If you've been to St. Augustine you understand.
Mother calls her bestie, who happens to be in town because she bought a house around the corner from Mother...sigh...and invites her along.  Once she is ready, it's top down in the scarf in my hair, oversized sunglasses protecting my peepers, and we're in St. Augustine before I could finish the 3 text conversations I was having.  Seated in the courtyard at Harry's enjoying ONE order of chicken, tho I can't say that about the pom-tinis (the amount, not the enjoyment), was bliss.  We took a little apres-lunch stroll through St. Augustine's delightful and useless shopping district...of course I shopped...until I saw a sandwich board set up outside a charming little patisserie.  It was bathed in light from the heavens and choirs of angels sang as I read the words scrawled on it proclaiming their daily special....a PEEP LATTE!!!  As you can imagine, I nearly knocked over more than a few passers-by in my haste to obtain one of, what I can only describe now, having tasted it, these hot, steaming, cardboard cups filled with the nectar of the Gods!  The barista was kind enough to serve me my 20, glorious, ounces of Peep latte with a flourish, making sure I got a good look before he condemned the wee Peep to it's a burial in a non-fat, 4 shot, toasted marshmallow latte.  There he bright pink Peep...floating on top!
I trotted off, swooning, behind Mother and her friend, towards the trolley to the Winery, only to be stopped en route by a man who was quite certain that I had been Miss Kentucky or Kansas or something a few years before and was completely unwilling to take no for an answer.  I said something about "World Peace" and let him take a picture of us together.  It seems I am quite a bit easier to get along with...which I can't fathom as I am SO charming even on my worst days...when I have had a delicious blackened chicken breast, a few pomegranate martinis, and Peep latte in me.  I didn't even grumble (too much) when we had to (almost) run to make the trolley.  
At the end of the trolley ride sits the San Sebastian Winery.  Mother and I tried to pretend to pay attention to the tour...tasting please!!!  The tour is over, the tasting begins and we start working our way through whites.  To be fair, I suppose Mother and I could have tried to take it a little more seriously...but...well...we didn't.  We get to, I don't know, maybe the third white, and wrinkle our noses.  Her friend clearly didn't approve of our face-making.  I lean over to Mother and whisper, "This tastes like something," with a look on my face that made it very clear that that something was NOT wine.
"I know.  It's something familiar."
Her friend gave us a dirty look and sushed us...I react so well to such things.
"What is it, mom?  This is driving me crazy!  I can't place it!"
She takes another sip, swishing it around her mouth a while, considering it.  "This tastes like shampoo!!!"
I nearly spit my shampoo wine everywhere other than intended bucket.  Between fits of giggles we tried to explain to her friend that it tasted like that little bit of fruity scented shampoo that works it's way into your mouth while you're trying to rinse your hair.  The more we tried to explain, the harder we laughed and the more annoyed her friend got.  
We bought her a bottle on the way out...I am not her favourite person.


PS-Today's intended post was titled "My Cupcake Cost $1.75," but dear Margaret Page inspired me to share this story instead.  Fret not, "My Cupcake Cost $1.75" will be posted tomorrow!

Monday, September 26, 2011

An Ode to the Colossally Stupid...

Is it just me, or does anyone else feel a 
Monday Manifesto 
in the air?

Are you ever in a group of people...perhaps even a crowded room...and find yourself all alone?  I don't mean, "feelings of loneliness" or "having to wind yourself up" or any of the other time-to-get-your-meds-adjusted buzz words.  I mean, you make the worst pun ever and groan to yourself because you know you should be ashamed but no one else seems to have even noticed.  I mean, you have a task, an obstacle, a challenge you just can't matter how you try...and you refuse to quit...and call it your "White Whale," and are met with blank stares.  I feel like this is happening more and more often lately.

So I thought I would compose, tho I suspect it will only be the first installment...
An Ode to the Colossally Stupid

That this will in no way be anything that could be confused in any way with anything either lyrical or poetic is of no consequence...the Colossally Stupid won't be making the connection between ODE and Lyrical Poem.  In fact, it's quiet likely that they are still googling "White Whale."  

The New Nanny Diaries?  Colossally Stupid.  
Dear Diary, 
It is far too taxing on me to babysit little Tommy under these conditions.  Fine, John can't come over.  Whatever, he has football practice anyway.  No drinking?  Really?  Who parties before 10 if it's not a Jamaican Me Crazy party or a tailgate?  But seriously, there's got to be a line somewhere.  Take last night, ok, so Tommy was sick and he hurled all over my new sweater that I was going to wear to Ladies Night at Main Street Pub this week!  Everyone knows as long as you have a student ID they don't card!  Not only is my sweater ruined...they didn't care, btw, didn't offer to dry clean it or replace it or anything...but I was so traumatized I couldn't make my 8:00 Psych 201 or my 10:30 Geology...which I only took so I could help John pass...Rocks for Jocks...hello...and seriously, I don't know when I'll be emotionally prepared to babysit again.  I mean, I only babysit to shop because my parents think I shop too much...and whose fault is that?  You teach a girl how to drive in a Jag, buy your way out of taking her to Midnight Mass with your fur, and move her into college with an egg crate, mattress pad, 600 thread count sheets (who knew you could get them in extra-long, not that 600 would be my first choice, but apparently I'm supposed to be learning personal responsibility or something.  Don't they have someone for that?), silk pillow cases so as not to leech moisture from her hair and face, and line her drawers with Crabtree & Evelyn scented liner because, among other reasons, ewww...other people's clothes have been in there!  Why not just go...gasp...bowling!  So whatever, they limit my spending money...I'll rebel against that later...for now I have to supplement my allowance!  After Tommy's foray into bulimia...I'm at a loss.  I mean...there's one of those give and get sales coming up at Banana...and you know me, I'm a giver...but I have to babysit to make the money to shop properly and I'm way too freaked out!  I need that stuff.  Like that whatdoyoucallit that construction workers get when stuff falls on their heads so they have to stay home but they get money.  I should totally get that.  I'm entitled.  I know I must be because people tell me I have entitlement issues all the time!  And while we're at it...why do Tommy's parents need a sitter?  Ummm...I've been sitting for them for a while now and I KNOW why they need a sitter!  They need a break from Tommy!  There's TWO of them and only ONE of me and he doesn't have to do what I say...where's my break?  Hang on...Larue's texting.
OMG!!!  Diary, guess what?!?  Larue said that those crusty dudes in Sacramento...God, who goes to Sacramento...are voting for me to get that construction worker thing-y...she said it's called "workman's comp insurance," I can't imagine why she knows that...but that will teach Tommy to go all Exorcist on me.  AND she said we can ALWAYS babysit together so instead of paying attention to Tommy, we can get ready to go out after his parents get home, because they will have to give me breaks...and some kind of paperwork to show those social security people that Mother and Father hate because they keep saying thay will never see all that money they gave them.  Should I send a "Thank You" muffin basket to those crusty dudes?'s awesome right?  I mean, for me.  But when I grow up and have kids, I'm not giving some college student construction-worker-hit-in-the-head insurance and a bunch of breaks so they need to bring a friend and both get paid, 'cause for real?  I'm not stupid.  I know why I need breaks and stuff...I know you won't tell, diary, but I don't really NEED breaks to babysit for 5 hours and I sort of got that "stain" out of my sweater by throwing it in the delicate cycle with woolite...but I still know...and this is ME!  I'm soooo telling Tommy's parents they owe me!!!
Thanks Diary, you're the best...
Workmen's Comp+10 min break every 2 hours+30 min break every 5 hours+detailed pay stubs (and the list goes on)=Colossally Stupid

Laws about Bed Linens?  Colossally Stupid.  To be filed under: You Can Not Make This Sh*t Up!  There is a (potentially even more Colossally Stupid) bill facing the California Legislature...I promise you, this is real...I googled it after I saw it on the news and then I had Husband google because I still couldn't believe "my lyin' eyes," as the uber-fab, Judge Marilyn Milian would say.  I have confessed my pathetic obsession, my dirty little secret, my addiction for which there is no 12 step program...judge you in the don't judge me, damn it!!!  She says that all the time and love her.  There...I said it!  If you're done laughing at me we can get back to the Bill.  Are you ready?  I mean Really READY?!?  It is a bill to make flat bottom sheets in hotels, motels, b&bs, etc...ILLEGAL!  Not like when your mom said you couldn't go out and play until you made your bed, grounded kind of illegal...courts and lawyers and judges ILLEGAL!!!  Now, we know that California and the USA are in debt in the billions.  We have wars, poverty, unemployment...not even going down the health care're just waiting for me to say immigration, not today, my friends...but as God is my witness, there is an actual bill introduced by an actual state senator waiting to be voted upon OUTLAWING FLAT BOTTOM SHEETS!  (Hey...isn't that a Queen song?) Apparently 4 hotel maids said making hospital corners hurt their backs and said state senator them...and ONLY to them.  I don't mean ONLY to them as opposed to the industry that stands to lose $15-$30M if this were to pass, in the cost of bed linens alone...but I mean to all the tens of thousands of other hotel maids (maid is likely not the PC term and if that's the case, I'm sorry, but I don't know of an alternative...oh...wait...housekeeping) who are very against this change because, among other things, it would increase each maid's per-room speed, thereby, again, not only driving up the costs industry-wide, but decreasing jobs.  And last I checked, a huge increase in cost to the hotel industry=an increase in room prices=a less viable tourist destination=less $$$ to a state that is in so much debt it's going to have to sell itself to Mexico to see daylight=can you feel that Colossally Stupid on the horizon?  Husband says math is fun, so let's take this one just a tiny bit further to make sure it's Colossally Stupid.  Room price increase/reduced tourism=fewer jobs for hotel maids in a state...and Country...plagued with an unemployment problem...coinciding with the need for fewer maids because of the illegality of flat sheets, still funny, regardless of the implications...illegal sheets...but I digress, increased, per-room, turnover speed (because fitted sheets are the bomb, yo! (I can't pull that off, can I?))=fewer jobs for hotel maids=increased unemployment.  Normally my circular logic makes sense, at least to me, as it is constructed, at least in part, for my benefit.  I've got no dog in this fight.  (Save all of your tasteless Eagles/Michael Vick jokes, I'm making them in my head)  Anyway, I've always preferred English to know, like back when a perfect score on the SATs was a 1600 and schools didn't make up random, bs GPAs, a 4.0 was a 4.0, a perfect score, same as a 1600, and I think my wee choo-choo of thought is starting to derail a wee bit again...but here's where I'm math may be off...BUT I'm pretty sure that if you take the 4 maids (no offense to any maids a-milking or calling birds to which one refers in December) and then there's an X and Pi and something exponential to the square route of the number you get if you add up all the digits in your birthdate you get Y.  And apparently, my dog isn't just killing rats, but torturing them for information, and a rat told Lilac Water that Y is the constant for a whole bunch of hotel maids losing their jobs and increasing the unemployment rate...on top of, well all those other problems, and at this point, do you really want me to rehash...again???  No?  So we agree...Colossally Stupid.

Hiking in Iran?  Colossally Stupid.  Let's break this down.  Maybe I'm wrong and there is a shadow of the tiniest bit of a chance that this is simply Marginally Stupid.  As children, our parents taught us to walk.  As we got older, mastered the walking thing, they taught us to cross the street.  Look left, then right, then left again.  Remember that?  Ok.  Let's apply that earliest of lessons of "when it's safe to cross" to our genius hikers.  Go to Iran.  Face north.  Look to your left.  What do you see?  Iraq.  Look right.  What do you see?  Afghanistan.  Look left again?  Still Iraq.  Is it safe to cross Iran Street?  NO!!!  Just as I suspected...Colossally Stupid.

Glad I could clear that up.

PS-If anyone knows of a state senator looking to back a bill that gets bloggers paid (minimum wage, sure, but hey, nice work if you can get it!), construction-worker-hit-in-the-head insurance (because I walk into things, hit my head, and fall down more than you can imagine), and mandatory breaks, forward me his email!!!


Wednesday, September 21, 2011

A New Low

I am a pretty self aware person.  I know my flaws...I own them...who am I kidding, I flaunt them!  I have shared with you in the past that Walt Disney kind of distorted my perception of reality...let's not rehash my traumatic Chinatown visit.  There are a fair amount of Hidden Mickeys throughout my home...and quite a few that are not so hidden.  I drag Husband to Disney every chance I get...again, no need to rehash...World=Happiest Place On Earth...Land=Ghetto/Wrong Side of the Happiest Place On Earth tracks.  My Royal status?  As to whether that is a Disney issue or an entitlement one, remains to be seen.  A proper Princess always gives back and as I may have mentioned, I have spent my adult life dedicated to service to my Country and my community...the America Red Cross, the Queen of Hearts, and the Peace Corps (Domestic Branch)...for example.  I spent 2 years as a full-time intern during college at the Sheriff's Dept. and pulled overnights once on a week as a first responder, studying when I wasn't on the ambulance.  I may regret including this, but the guys on my crew did NOT call me Princess.  They had their own little pet name for in Battle.  I may have been a little bit of a hard ass at the try running overnights on an ambulance when you're the only female on the crew!  You have to, for example, take the 80+ year old woman who decided she was to old to wear panties to bed to the ladies because she can't be left alone...and she's chatty!  Some things, my friends, cannot be unseen.

Why am I telling you all of this?  I have been afforded the opportunity to see people at their very best and their very worst.  I have shared those moments with them.  I have had my heart broken seeing someone hurt by a loved one and had my heart overfilled seeing an entire community become a family after a wildfire destroyed a over a quarter of the homes in the town.  I've taught EMS and Lifeguards how to administer oxygen in the morning, helped a family whose house burned down with lodging, food, and clothing in the afternoon, only to race home to wait by the phone for a call from deployed Husband.  I've also had to, with a police escort, do searches of disaster shelters' sleeping areas and bathrooms because residents were coming to me with reports of weapons and drugs.  I've watched as some of those same people abandoned their children at the shelters and took their Red Cross and/or FEMA money to the mall.  Just when you think you can't handle seeing one more thing?  One of the little girls whose mother constantly abandoned her at the shelter assuming she'd be cared for...which, of course, she was, and in my opinion, better than when her mother was there saying charming things like, "Don't go near that man, baby, we don't like people look that man."  She was referring to a cop.  We had more than a few residents who shared her sentiment.  Back to her afternoon, I still don't know where the child got a bottle of nail polish, she walked over, grabbed the cop's hand, and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he needed a manicure!  The next thing you know, I look over, and there's this huge cop in a child sized chair at a child sized table getting a hot pink manicure!!!  Some things, my friends, cannot be unseen.

No matter how much you see, no matter how many highs, no matter how many lows, people can still surprise you.  Sometimes, when confronted with a new low, even promising yourself that there are even greater heights to which the human spirit can soar...well...sometimes that's just not enough.

I've given you Disney...I've thrown down a little Dickensian best of times/worst of I guess it's time to tell you why I spent 10 minutes crying in my car in a store parking lot today.  I was running into the store to grab some fishing line (to secure holiday decor) and a candle.  That's it.  But it's me and it's shopping so I grab a cart just in case.  There is a man with a coffee can and a picture of his 3yr old daughter standing next to the cart asking for donations for her, as she was in the hospital after being hit by a car and he had no insurance to cover her stay.  Naturally, I was heartbroken for him and his poor daughter and though I asked what had happened and if she was ok, a drunk driver, he said, she was having 4 pins put in her leg, I offered my prayers and a truly heartfelt apology that I simply don't carry cash.  I do, however, carry plastic!  So into my cart went a big, pink, princess, gift bag...and into that, a pink princess costume, tiara, mirror, dress-up princess jewelery, a princess wand...everyone knows princesses don't carry wands, fairy godmothers do, but I wasn't going to split hairs...I found some gross looking pink princess candy, and animal crackers, of course.  I put all the presents in the gift bag and walk out to where he was standing with the gift bag, my bag, and a bottle of water for him because it was about 95 and rising at the time.  He wasn't there.  I must have looked like an idiot.  I just sort of stood there holding this stuff in front of the store for a minute or two.  That was when the store employee stationed at the front door noticed me and my sad little princess gift bag.  
"That bag isn't for the man that was out here earlier begging for money, is it?"
"Yes, yes it is.  I don't see him though."
"Ummmm...he left ma'am."
"Oh no!  Do you know where he went?  I just bought this for him to take to his daughter."
"I don't know where he went, but I know he won't be back."  I can only assume that at that point my face distorted into something akin to my pug's when he hears a strange a noise, because he continued, "He was lying, a scam, you know..."
I really don't know if he kept talking...I was already walking away.  As I was almost to my car a woman walked by pushing a cart with her daughter in it.  She looked 3.  Ish.  To me.  What do I know?  I asked them if she liked princesses and told them it was her lucky day!  When the mother opened her mouth to ask the crazy lady giving away big bags of prezzies in parking lot if she was off her meds, I pointed to the employee still standing in the doorway and told her to ask him.

I got in my car, took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, typed the name of the town and "car accident" into google news...and started to cry...


Sunday, September 18, 2011

When I'm 64...

Happy 64th Birthday to the United States Air Force!!!

The Beatles
Give me your answer, fill in a form, 
Mine forever more
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four?

There has not been a single day in the last 64 years that the United States of America has not needed it's Air Force...nor will there be for the next 64 years and beyond!  Happy Birthday to the USAF and to all it's members, past, present, and future...and to the family members of those serving, who make the US Air Force the best in the world!  

Happy 64th, USAF...and Thank You.


Saturday, September 17, 2011

Peach and Poodle go to the Vatican

I've been sick and haven't posted for a few days, so I wanted to pop in and share a little something and make sure you don't feel neglected.

For those of you who know me and/or read my blog, you know that I occasionally lean just the teeny, tiniest, little bit toward the irreverent...

That said, for those of you that don't appreciate such things or are in any way easily offended, well, let's just say...This Post Is Not For You.  You have received your warning.

As an aside, "You Have Received Your Warning" is the text from a road sign in Medford Lakes that I have always wanted to steal and hang in my garage, were I the sort of person that did such things.

Moving on...

I have a dear friend that I affectionately call "Poodle."  In case you don't see where this is going, she calls me "Peach."  She went back to school this semester and is taking a Philosophy class, the professor of which she calls "Crazy, Old, Philosophy Bat."  Anyone who took philosophy in college knows balance...philosophy professors tend to be.  I know I spent a fair amount of time in The Giggle Loop, a la Coupling, in my college philosophy class.  I had a huge final paper due when I took it and no matter what I did, I simply could NOT bring myself to buckle down write it!  I have always considered philosophy to essentially be nothing more than organized and accredited bullsh*t anyway, so I decided it was time to think outside the proverbial box...or...cave (homage to Plato!!!)  And I had "another one of my brilliant ideas (Blair Warner stole that from me!)!!!  I invited a friend from class over...we made a list of all the salient points we needed to cover...made a liquor store run...make sure we had plenty of batteries and blank cassette tapes (if you need to know what those are, let me know...when I'm done crying about being old, I'll brief it up)...and let the drinking begin!  Once we had had a few, and started feeling philosophical, as one often does when is drinking, we hit recordWe went point by point from our list and kept drinking and chatting and laughing and recording until we had filled nearly both sides of the tape!  We had to save just a tiny bit of space at the end for my piece de resistance...wait for it...The Philosopher's Drinking Song by Monty Python.  Easiest and most fun I have ever had on a "final term paper" in college...A+...AND he asked to keep the tape to share with future students.  You may worship my lazy, alcohol soaked, ingenuity now.

Poodle was in her philosophy class this week...and I would like to share with the you the text conversation...because it made her want to kill me, just a little, because of the Giggle Loop...and because some conversations are meant to be shared.

Last chance to turn back if you are easily offended.

Poodle:  Dear crazy old philosophy bat, do not preach to me that I can't consider myself a Christian if I'm willing to pollute the environment and waste natural resources.
Peach:  What?!?  Where did she get that?  Even the Popemobile has an exhaust pipe, b*tch!  So put that in your tree and deforest it, you dirty hippie!
Poodle:  She said Christians have moral obligations which "clearly" include not polluting or wasting natural resources unless your life depends on it.
Poodle:  So she would say the Pope isn't a true Christian.
Peach:  That "clearly" must have been on one of those tablets that Moses dropped.
Poodle:  *snort*
Peach:  Well, duh!  Our method of choosing a new Pope IS pollution!!!  Hello, white smoke/black smoke?
Poodle:  Bwahahaha!
Peach:  And not for nothin'...why just the Christians?  Why don't the Jews have this moral imperative?  Of course, they're already screwed on the bacon cheeseburger thing.
Poodle:  Well, they usually do vote Democrat.
Peach:  See?  That's another reason she'd say Catholics don't count.  There's no deficit spending at the Vatican, my friend!  No unemployment or homelessness either!
Poodle:  That's because they know how to live within their means. 
Peach:  Israel, however?  Lousy with 'em!  Giggles.
Poodle:  You're still bitter about your friends purposely eating burgers and stuff in front of you on Friday's during Lent growing up, aren't you?  Bwahaha!
Peach:  Moi?
Poodle:  DirecTV 246 (trutv)-Hulk Hogan micro wrestling = MIDGETS!!! 

I warned you!


Monday, September 12, 2011

Naughty List, Vol. II

When last we were together, dear readers and friends, if there are any...who you ever wonder about that?  Is anyone really reading this?  It kind of makes me want to throw a random, bizarro sentence or an "Are you really reading this" in the I always wanted to do in college, but never had the guts to do there, either.  I wonder which would be worse, feeling like an idiot when someone read it or feeling like a loser when your professor gave you an A and failed to mention it.  Moving on...we were exploring my current short list of those which require a "Come to Jesus" talk:

Pool Guy
Random 20yr old Illegal Alien/UCLA Student
Jeff Lurie
Governor Brown & the California Legislature
So far, we have dealt, though I could certainly go on, with Pool Guy, Landscapers, and Random.  This brings us to Jeff Lurie. 

Jeff Lurie...Jeff, Jeff, Jeff...oh, honey!  Let's talk!  For those who may not know, dear Jeffrey owns my beloved Philadelphia Eagles.  As a rule, I love and support you.  I bleed green.  I am an Eagles Fan.  There have been times in the past when we haven't seen eye to eye...usually over quarterbacks.  Kolb?  We'll see how the decision goes.  Garcia? out.  McNabb?  Poor form.  He DESERVES to retire an Eagle. Despite 2 trips to the Superbowl we Eagles (Fans) have yet to have a win.  We were the first team to need it's own jail and court in the stadium.  For those who may not know part 2, this is a fact of which we are quite proud.  We throw snowballs at Santa Claus and "BOO" our own team.  We even had T.O. scared to come back into town for his first game as a Cowgirl!  We prove again and again that there are NO FANS as passionate and dedicated as IGGLES FANS.  When you and Andy decided to bring Michael Vick on board...when he didn't even want to come to Philadelphia, granted, he more than regrets feeling that way now...I was, to say the least, not pleased.  I know it isn't my place to judge and people can change and blah, blah, whatever, but I couldn't get passed what he had done.  He played his heart out and behaved like a repentant, changed man...and while I will never LIKE the man...I grew to accept him as our QB.  But, Jeff...Jeff, Jeff, Jeff...For the Love of All That's HOLY...$100M?!?!?!?  He's not the Pope!!!  I know what you're all thinking...that I'll change my tune should we FINALLY win a Superbowl...and maybe you're right...but I doubt it.  At the end of the day, changed man or not, let's just say you couldn't pay me $100M to let him dog-sit...and seriously?  The man PLAYS A GAME FOR A LIVING!!!  Hello?  That's a privilege!!!  If you've got that much to throw around, Jeff, throw some my way so I can fly home for games...I've cared about the Eagles far longer and far more than Michael Vick.  I have felt the crushing defeat of those 2 Superbowls...I know what it's all about to love Dick Vermeil and to know that no lead is too big for us to blow!  Maybe throw some of that money to animal charities, Mikey's name...AS PART OF HIS PAY...surely he won't mind!

*Of note:  I wrote the above prior to the Eagles v Rams game...I know better than to jinx anything...I'm just sayin'...

The Dream Act...or Dear, Every State Politician in California...or Governor Brown and your compatriots in the California Legislature, I voted against you, surely you recognize me, I'm the one who alternates outfits between an NRA hat, Ray-Ban aviators, and either a B-1 Bomber or Ronald Reagan t-shirt for primaries and, of course, a monogrammed sweater set and pearls on Election Day...because, as I understand it, I have the right not to TELL anyone who I voted I feel obligated to make sure people can TELL by looking at me.  You're welcome.  So, this little Dream Act thing of yours...well played!  How do you envision this working for you?  You've given the illegals (again, I'm not trying to be insulting, I know not the current PC term...if this offends're reading the wrong blog) access to public funds for their educations in California Universities.  Public funds for the privilege of higher education, one that many American Citizens find elusive, do they have priority access to these public funds?  Have you made this conditional upon application for citizenship...American Citizenship, also a privilege,   No?  Ummmm...why not?  They can apply for college, they can apply for financial aid, grants, and scholarships...clearly they are capable of "applying" for things...things they want, anyway.  It seems to me, if they wanted to be citizens, they would APPLY for citizenship.  Yet they don't.  They aren't applying for citizenship...THEREFORE they aren't paying taxes, with which to provide the public funds for future students, American students, to go to school, and they aren't voting.  That little plan you had about them being so grateful they'd be your voter base someday?  Not going to happen!  Let me paint you a picture.  As a military spouse, if your husband is stationed in California, after 30 days, with PROOF of his assignment and your military ID, of course, you are eligible to apply for a WAIVER to the state's residency requirements for instate tuition.  So...if you move to California due to a commitment to Service to Our Country, you can apply for a waiver for in-state residency requirements...but if you're here are in some way more deserving?  Is this really the message we want to send? Enough is enough!  We spend a fortune trying to secure our boarders, watching the cost and crime rate skyrocket, and now we're offering INCENTIVES?!?  

You know what's weird?  Immigration has never been a hot-button issue for me.  The Dream Act just makes me so mad!!!

On to Depakote...I can say with absolute authority that this "medicine," I use this word VERY LOOSELY, is, in fact, a direct descendant of the devil!  It's an anti-seizure medication meant to control migraines and trigeminal and back spasms.  You may remember Depakote from it's uncredited cameo in 15 Pounds?!?!?.  Ahhhh...the good old days!  I fear that when dear Doctor said, "at least 15 Pounds," I heard, "15 Pounds," and may have missed the , "at least," bit.  Whoops!  I'm sure there is a lesson about paying attention or selective hearing in this, but...really, not feeling it!  After 5 weeks on this "medicine," I started losing hair again...after it had just started growing back in...grrrrr.  My migraines and trigeminal headaches became more could SEE my trigeminal nerve twitch and spasm...ICK!!!  It gave me insane RA flares and it did not fight nice with my chemo!  It was hellish!  This happens from time to time with meds...that's why there are multiple medications.  I get it, I do.  I was weak and tired and miserable and at the 5 week point found myself on the phone with his office, 27 pounds heavier, BEGGING to not have to take it ONE DAY MORE!!!  I am pleased to tell you that he took pity on me...called back and switched me to something different.  Whether it works or not is too soon to say, but rest assured, I scoured the internet and weight gain is NOT listed anywhere as a side effect!!!

One Naughty List infinite number go!

Tell me...comment, tweet me, Facebook, whatever...what's on your Naughty List?


Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Naughty List, Vol. I

I feel like I've been a little bit...what's the word...NICE(?)...lately.  I mean, I am always kind and benevolent to my minions, it's not that to which I refer.  It's that my acid tongue...or fingertips, if you will...feel a bit dry.  I don't know how I let this happen.  I haven't written a manifesto or jumped up on a high horse or a soapbox or even shared a good rant with you in a while...and I apologize...I have been remiss.  You expect...and deserve...better from me.  
I've spent a little quite time with some sugar free Red Bull and an exercise bike and picked out just a few teeny, tiny, little things that make me want to, among other things, refer you to my Anger Management post.

Following is a list of those with whom I need to have a "Come to Jesus" talk:

Pool Guy
Random 20yr old Illegal Alien/UCLA Student
Jeff Lurie
Governor Brown & the California Legislature

Listen up, pool guy...just because you're the only game in town, doesn't give you the right to take my money and continue to NOT BOTHER TO SHOW UP!  Owner of pool guy, blaming your employees for being slackers just doesn't cut it.  I do not find your ZZ Top meets gnomes beard amusing.  We will not become pals by your attempts to bond over Rheumatoid Arthritis...or your use of vodka to self medicate.  Do I REALLY NEED to know that?!?!?  I'm thinking no.  Do I WANT to know that?  I do not.  I mean, I really, really, couldn't care less...except that I care enough to decidedly not want to know anything about you...because, you know...ewwww!!!

To the wonderful landscaper who spoke enough broken English to understand me when I ran to him like a raving lunatic because my adorable, sweet, precious, little, girly, fluffy, white, princess, half American Eskimo/Half Coton du Tulear, Lilac Water brought me a not entirely dead, ginormo rat and ran behind the couch with it, for actually being in the backyard doing your job and for being kind enough to come in to help, what you were sure was an hysterical, exaggerating, housewife, until you saw the size of the rat...which, I am quite certain could neither cook nor make dresses (damn you, Disney)...and you spoke the words forever etched in my memory with a chuckle and your eyes as wide as saucers, "Little dog, BIG RAT," you have my unwavering, eternal gratitude.  HOWEVER, to the OWNER and all his other employees I would like to raise a nice big flute of YOU SUCK!  I have a front yard AND a back yard!  I have Italian Cyprus trees that you were supposed to fix the last time it snowed in this God-forsaken desert!  As an aside, "the last time it snowed in this desert," is NOT a euphemism a la "since grandmom had her period," it is quite literal.  It ACTUALLY snowed here a few years ago.  The damage on the trees continues to worsen because of the wind.  I want desperately to add new landscaping, but as I can't trust you to weed and mow on a weekly basis, I am still holding off.  When I'm done with Pool Guy, I AM COMING FOR YOU!!!!

On the news a few days ago, in reference to the Dream Act, a random, 20yr old, illegal alien/UCLA student was being interviewed.  In my (never to be confused with) humble opinion, he was an incredibly poor representative of both Illegal Aliens AND UCLA students.  This young man felt, and we will deal with my feelings on this when we cover the California State Legislature and Governor Brown, that the Dream Act was only fair because he shouldn't be held responsible for his parents' actions.  WHAT?!?  Ok...let's say I'm willing to accept your premise, Random...that a child shouldn't be accountable for the actions of the parents...then perhaps what we need is to define some terms...or one term...before we address the whole of your statement.  Child- "The legal definition of "child" generally refers to a minor, otherwise known as a person younger than the age of majority."  So let me, if I may, and I may, because, as I often point out, this is my blog, rephrase our friend Random's sentence using this definition...the Dream Act is only fair because a minor...younger than the age of majority (18 in the state of California)...shouldn't be held responsible for his parents' actions.  Again, assuming I am feeling generous and willing to accept Random's premise...would that not hold true only through his 18th birthday?  And if, in fact, that's the case, then logically speaking, several things follow.  Random committed no crime prior to his 18th birthday.  (None relevant to this discussion, anyway...let's not judge.)  HOWEVER, upon turning 18 he made a conscious decision to break the law of MY country, God's country, the BEST country in the world (despite any evidence to the contrary), the United States of America!!!  (Cue the fireworks, confetti, and Kate Smith!)  If, on his 18th birthday, he had walked into INS and began the process of applying for citizenship, then I would support Random's statement, Random's application to college, his application for financial aid, and Random's income and property taxes as well!!!  Call me conservative, but Ronald Reagan called and said that our friend Random needs to take the good with bad or get the hell out of Dodge!   

WOW!  Someone certainly has a lot to say!  I'll give you all a break and save Jeff Lurie, Depakote, and the Dream Act for tomorrow.  See what happens when I'm NICE for too long?  I won't let that happen again...someone could get hurt!!!


Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Queen of Hearts

Kicking off a big month at the Preppy Pink Palace!  I'm dedicating this month, with the help of some fab friends, to my darling friend Margie, the Queen of Hearts.
"Since 2003 Marjorie Sprague, founder of The Queen of Hearts Foundation, has been raising money and awareness in support of the cancer and organ donor communities. Marjorie’s passion comes from very personal experience. She received the precious gift of life twice; beating non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma in 1997 and then receiving a new heart in 2005. She started The Queen of Hearts Foundation to provide financial assistance to individuals coping with the day to day challenges of surviving cancer; or waiting for or recovering from transplantation. The Foundation hopes to make a difference by removing some of the financial stress.
Since its humble beginnings, the Foundation has grown, taking advantage of the opportunities that have been given to Marjorie to help others fighting for that second chance at life. The Queen of Hearts Foundation is a totally volunteer organization that thrives on getting people involved. What cause appeals to you? Doing good for others will give you inspiration in other areas of your life. One person can make a difference. Please support the Queen of Hearts Foundation and help make that difference."

Margie was on the transplant list, still waiting for her heart, when she decided to start Queen of Hearts, wanting to help others even while waiting for life saving help herself!  She is a true inspiration to all who know her and that is the reason that QoH is entirely volunteer and has nearly quadrupled what we raise since our inception!
The QoH started the month with our 9th annual Aloha FundraiserIt is a fantastic Aloha themed casino night with a chinese auction that is always a good time!  But it's time for us to grow again and we have our sights set on the internet!  We have a website and an underutilized Facebook cause and non-profit fan page...but those days are over.  Internet, here we come!
To get us started, the lovely ladies at The Pink Monogram and Marley Lilly gave us wonderful donations for the chinese auction...our FIRST from online retailers!!!

Now it's your turn to join it the fun!  Your first Queen of Hearts treat is brought to you by Marley LillyJust pop over to Facebook and "like" the Queen of Hearts and when you spend $85 at Marley Lilly, use coupon code QOH for FREE SHIPPING!!!  There more generosity to come this month from some truly amazing people...make sure you keep checking back!!!

Donations to Queen of Hearts can be made:
Queen of Hearts