I recently had my annual visit to the girlie doctor. As I was leaving, I passed a girl who appeared to be no more than 16 and was quite obviously pregnant. This made me sad, but not for the reasons you assume. First, she was probably older than she looked (I hope). So, even if she was only 16 it does not make me sad that a 15/16 year old girl is having sex. Hell, that is what our bodies are screaming for us to do at that age. It made me sad because she either didn’t know she had options to protect herself from that situation or that she was told that abstinence was the only way and therefore just didn’t try. The thought that she would do that on purpose is too frightening to even consider, so I wont.
I just don’t understand the abstinence only philosophy for teenagers. It is not realistic and it is dangerous. Should15 year olds have sex? No. Do 15 year olds have sex? Of course. They should be shown how to protect themselves and be prepared for the situation.
Making birth control available to teenagers does not equal a license to have sex. Trust me on this one, I was lucky that my Mom realized this and prepped us. Did she then allow our boyfriends to stay over? HELL no, I had to sneak around like every other teenager and it is a LOT harder to do in a town as small as Oceana, WV than it would be in Johnson City, TN.
I’ve been doing a lot of traveling recently. I went from never having been on a plane to being on 10 planes in a month. One thing puzzles me. Why do airplane seats recline in the first place? What kind of douche canoe rams his seat back into the face of their neighbor to the rear without so much as a ‘how do you do’? Now, my flights were relatively short. The longest was close to 3 hours. So, I’m not talking about one of those 8 hour inter continental monsters. I’m talking about the flights so short you don’t even get a blanket. What makes you so important that I have the whole 3 hours to judge the quality of your anti dandruff shampoo? Next time, don’t be surprised if you have a little lingering back pain from a well place knee. Or perhaps the lingering cold from a well placed sneeze. Just saying.
2011 had some really awesome bits. The reception weekend went off way better than I could have hoped. I had a fantastic time, I hope everyone else did too. It was great to have all the family together for the evening. I even convinced an old friend of the family to make the trip and hang out with my Dad. It was also great to see Dad get out and enjoy himself for once.
With that said, parts of 2011 have totally sucked sweaty donkey bits. Essentially, I’ve had chronic hives (urticaria) since the first week of June. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but in August it decided to up the ante and add in some angiodema (deep tissue swelling). So, now some mornings I wake up looking like Harry Potter after Hermione hit in the face with that jinx. Some days it is one eye, or both. Some days it is my upper lip. Some days it is my lower lip. Some days it is only half my lip. I feel like the cartoon version of myself. I also have issues with my hands and feet. I get cabbage patch kid looking hands and feet from the swelling.
After having been tested for nearly everything under the sun, I finally got a referral to an allergist. Who informed me that chronic hives rarely caused by an allergy. Rarely do they determine the cause for them and they generally don’t last more than a year. Well, at least I have that to look forward to, huh? He was able tell me that my hives are autoimmune. Great, that probably means I have such fun things to look forward to as Rheumatoid Arthritis and/or Lupus.
So, now everyday is a parade of mega antihistamines (read dry mouth from hell) and steroids. At this point, I’d eat Spicey if he stood still long enough. It’s like the Bugs Bunny cartoon where they are lost at sea and start to see each other as roasted chickens. On the low dose of steroids, I still get some hives but not the angiodema. I’m grateful for that.
Ok, rant over. As lives go, I’ve got a pretty damn great one and I have no business whining about some itchy puffy lips.
I really liked John McCain until now. His opposition to the ending of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell stinks of bigotry. As one of the top brass testifying in the Senate pointed out, most combat Marines have never served with a woman either. That doesn’t mean we are not going to let women serve in the Marines. He also asked why this should be a referendum to the troops in the first place. Should we also poll them on how they feel about 18 month tours of Iraq? Of course not. Admiral Mike Mullen said “There is no gray area here, we treat each other with respect or we find another place to work. Period.” He also said: “War does not stifle change, it demands it.” (npr.org).
I really wonder what the big fear here is? I really think once they repeal DADTL it will be business as usual in the armed forces in general. I highly doubt that those who serve that are in the gay/lesbian community will have a coming out party. These folks are not stupid. They know that there is still a great deal of prejudice to be dealt with. I greatly admire their desire to serve and devote their lives to service of the country even with the knowledge that if they are found out, they could be stripped of their job and all the benefits they have worked for. I never understood the concept of “well, we’ll let you serve and potentially die for us, but you’ve got to lie about who you are.”
No, not the kind for Darfur (although, I HATE their Christmas song–but that is another rant). The adhesive bandage variety.
Band-Aids have changed a lot since I was a kid. First, they were all that putrid fleshy color and they’d take a layer of skin off with them. Then, there was the run of the sort of canvas ones that get really fuzzy around the edges. They were made with super glue. Now, we have the clear waterproof ones. I love those the best. Because, you see, I wear a lot of Band-Aids. No, really, I mean A LOT of them. I wear them on the tips of my fingers because I chew on my fingers. And when my fingers get particularly sore, I cover them with Band-Aids. So, on any given day I look like Michael Jackson.
But, my problem with them is this–why can I not buy a big box of regular sized Band-Aids???? Nobody makes one. They are all boxes of bandages of various sizes. While I can use the smaller ones on my pinky fingers, there are always at least 10 in there the size of Tinker Bell’s bra. What the hell am I supposed to do with those??? I am compiling quite a collection. I suppose they will come in handy if I ever get stabbed by a very tiny sword.
(Oh, and I normally don’t use the Band-Aid brand but it wouldn’t sound right if I used Nexcares in place of Band-Aids.)
And now it is time for another installment of the insanely popular “weird observations and rants.”
In the category of I just don’t get it…… Scent rings. I was handed a new Avon book today and contained therein was a scent ring that I could purchase for a small price. Who the hell needs so much perfume that she must wear a ring with a congealed glob of perfume in it so that it can be skillfully reapplied at any time? Are you expecting a perfume emergency??? I know who THINKS they need it, well I don’t know this lady’s name. I only know that she seems to have always been in the bathroom at work right before me and leaves behind the scent of an perfume laden turd. Seriously, if you are wearing so much perfume it is excreted in your waste then you have, well, I don’t know what you have other than industrial sized drum of cheap au d’toillet.
In the category of I hate Spring time…… I hate Spring time for two reasons. 1. Allergies and 2. storms. I can gauge barometric pressure my head. All week, the rain has play hell with my head. Its like being stuck in a room with Helen Keller humming the ENTIRE Bee Gee’s catalog on an infinite loop. It is not quite painful, but it does induce waves of nausea and the desire to commit homicide.