Toaster Bunny Cheez Whiz, Anyone?

Still this pulsing night
A plague I call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
Ya wouldn't believe what I've been thru
Cat People (Putting Out Fire)--David Bowie

You know, ya really wouldn't believe what I've been thru.  Hell, I'm not sure I believe it, and I have the scars and pony bottles to prove it.  But this isn't that blog.  I'm not particularly unhappy, I don't feel sorry for myself, and I am most definitely not in the mood to throw myself a pity party.  Those things are always BYOB, and the guest list usually sucks.

Nah, I'm just freestylin' here.  When you're bipolar (I am) you tend to have a lot of irons in the fire.  When you're bipolar and poor (I am) it's more like having a lot of forks in the toaster.  Who needs ECT? Zap!  Now, where was I?

Oh hell, I don't know.  I think I was downloading a zip file of vector images for drawing cartoons.  I want to sketch out a few storyboards for the Bad Hare Club, and I lost my graphic artist.  (Whimper.)  And combining thoughts here, how cool would it be to have a cartoon character who transports herself through time and space by sticking a fork in a toaster?  Very cool.  And very likely to get me sued if little Johnny lands himself in the ER playing ShockBunny.  LOL--ShockBunny.  I love it!

Son of a bitch.  Something called Shock Bunny already exists.  Thanks, Google. Not as cool as my ShockBunny would have been.  I could go with SchlockBunny, but then the toaster bit wouldn't make sense.  Ah well.  Moving on.

I have a lot of stuff to do today, and yap yap yapping is not going to get any of it done.  Yet here I am.  Can I blame Jack Canfield, Steven Covey and the like?  Seven highly motivated coaches turned my chicken soup to Cheez Whiz.  My brain is the cracker upon which it rests...  and nobody is paying me money to share all this gooey goodness, dammit.

(If you worked in corporate America during the past 20 years, you totally understand that last paragraph.)

Okay, seriously, I have stuff to do now.  

On Raising a Son

I am the mother of a little boy.

He breaks my furniture, hates my cooking, loves Rabbids Invasion, and drives his big sister crazy.

He amazes me with how tough he is. He melts my heart with how sensitive he is.

He is charming (when he wants to be) and he is discovering a passion for math. He loves music, and wants to be in a band. He scares the hell out of our dog. He intrigues our cat.

He broke into my art supplies and covered the upstairs in black acrylic paint. He gave my toothbrush a bath. In the toilet. He doesn't so much walk as leap, and anything that can be used as a sword, will be.

He is a lot like his dad, but even more like me. So much like me that I worry about him. If you know me, you know what I mean by that.

He considers everyone he meets a friend. To him, the world is a magical place, filled with adventures to be had.

He is four years old, and he is very much his own person. He is my beautiful boy, and in the blink of an eye, he will be a man.

And to those of you who would fault him for his biology; who would replace his boyish ways with "socially acceptable" feminine virtues, who would squelch his passion and energy, and indoctrinate him into the cult of 'all men suck, white men especially," I say, watch out. Because you will have to get through me first.

I Love My God. Yours, Not So Much.

Don't tell me what God thinks.  For the love of, well, God, don't do it.

Here are some things people say that drive me absolutely mad:

"I know now that God must have a plan for me!"
This is something people say over and over when they've been in accident, or survived a scary diagnosis.  Weeping with relief, they are absolutely convinced--and want everyone to know--that God is so enamored of them that He intervened and saved them from whatever disaster nearly took their life.

I see.  So, when my son died, well, it was because God never had a plan for him, so He didn't see fit to intervene in his life.  That's cool.  I guess Rory just was not as valuable to Him as you.  And those six million Jews?  Feck 'em.  God let them perish because he was busy planning on how he was going to save your SUV from skidding off a cliff, and still have time to show up on a pancake at a Denny's in Texas.  Got it.  I sure wish he'd had plans for all those little kids in Connecticut, instead of letting them die in a terrifying hail of gunfire.  But as long as you're okay, that's what really matters.

Speaking of school shootings, here's another vomit-inducing sentiment:

"God was not there that day because we no longer allow him in schools."

First off, what the hell kind of God do you worship?  One that punishes children for the acts of school boards and politicians?  Wow.  He's a real prince among gods, that one.  If that's how He treats the most innocent and beautiful of His creations, I can only imagine what He's got in store for the likes of me.  (But not you.  Because, y'know, we all know He has big plans for you.)

Moral argument aside, there's a pretty big logical fallacy in that one, too.  See, there's this minor little story in the Old Testament called, "Exodus."  You should read it some time, then come back and discuss how God does not go where He is not wanted.  

Moving on, let's try this one:

"You are strong.  Take faith in knowing God does not give people more than they can handle."

Okiedokie then.  Let's pull the records on every suicide in recorded history, and change cause of death to "homicide via demonic possession."  Or does your God just suck at judging what people can handle?  Maybe he should be working on that, instead of micromanaging your driving and health.  Just sayin'.

Okay, rant over.  I realize you have the right to believe in your God, and to speak of him in any way you please.  But be forewarned that if you come at me with any of the above, I will tell you to take your God for a nice long hike, far awake from me and my God.  Because, I do believe in God.  But not the same one you do, obviously.  That's cool.  If you like your God, you can keep your God. (And in this case, that's actually true!)  As for me, I'll keep mine.  I think I've got the better deal.

Easy, Breezy, GOPeezy

There's a lot of fist-bumping going on over Republican Dave Jolly taking the Florida 13th.  I admit, I am pleased he did.  However, I think the celebrations are masking a very real problem for the Republican party: namely, that Jolly won the election by hammering on one theme: Obamacare sucks, and by god you know you want to throw those bums out!

Now, I agree Obamacare sucks, and I too want it, and those who back it, sent to the political trash heap. (The metaphorical one.  Not Capitol Hill.) But focusing on a "your side screwed up" message is no Rx for long-term success for the Republican party.  No, if the GOP wants to not just get in but stay in, it needs to develop and sell a clear, positive message of what it can do for America.  Without that, the doors they open today will be the ones they're booted out of tomorrow.

And therein lies the biggest problem for Republicans.  I have been a registered Republican for almost 30 years now.  (It's true.  Even as a student and a Democrat, I was a registered Republican.  Maybe I knew I'd one day come to my senses, and decided to save myself the trouble of changing party affiliations.)  Anyway, yeah.  Thirty years a Republican, and even I am not sure what our message is.  I know what the extreme right feels about various issues, but if there is a cohesive message from the middle ground, I certainly cannot tell you what it is.

Disclaimer: I will soon be unable to use the we/us/our pronouns when talking about the GOP.  I have made the decision to follow my heart, and register as a Libertarian.  A government that stays out out of my bedroom, out of my doctor's office, and out of my wallet is an idea that is delightfully clear, and close to my heart.  And while Libertarians also point fingers, they generally do it as part of a broader message, that delineates plans for how to do better going forward.

But enough of that.

You won a nice little victory there, Republicans.  What you do with it is entirely up to you.