Testing

wizBANG - it's a trackback ping thing

Wizbang - It's a Trackback Ping Thing

My new slogan is: Nataliesoft - Who Do You Want To Be Today? Sometimes I really envy people who have static personalities. ()

TB Ping Thing

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onClick="docWindow=window.open('http://picklejuice.yatescentral.com/images/tbping.html','myWindow','toolbar=yes,width=250,height=300,directories=no,status=yes,scrollbars=yes,resizable=yes,menubar=no');docWindow.focus();return false">Wizbang! It's a Trackback Ping Thing!

Testing my toppo.

In case you haven't heard...

Adolf Hitler is dead

Hitler is dead

Testing for jumpy thing.

This right here is why I cannot stand the sanctimonious "aren't we wonderful" attitude some Western Jews tout - I could go on and on about this, but I'll just point you in the direction of this article about "separate but equal" (whatever) prayer accommodations for Jewish women at the Wailing Wall. They can pray at the wall - in a separate section from men - but Heaven help them if they want to read from the Torah - that there be a man's domain only, sister, and we fully reserve the right to stone you if you try it.

We stone because we care. You're out of your league - the Torah is a boy's toy, dontcha know?

The only thing worse than living your life depending on pick-and-choose scripture is living your life exactly by what the scripture dictates. The shit that's done in the name of religion (and religious purity) turns my stomach.

Separate but equal...now where have I heard that before?

Don't quote me a bunch of self-serving scripture, either, because I can throw a whole load of scripture back atcha that you probably don't adhere to - if this post pisses you off just take it on down the road because I'm not interested in the justification of this act.

If I ever meet God and find out that the scary-ass Holy War Bible-thumpers were right all along, and that God condoned the killing and the inequality that the religious texts dictate I'm afraid I'd have to punch Him right in the nose for being such a monumental dickhead. And if He were any kind of God at all, He'd say, "You know what? I deserved that."

God created everything, right, and has been sitting on high for...well, forever, as religion would have you believe. Why hasn't he put pen to paper and written his own memoirs? Why would he whisper in the ear of some guy? Multiple guys, actually. Why not tell us in his own words from his own mouth?

Here's a little factoid for you - nearly 3/4 of the Bible is written by, or about, the government. Mayors, Kings, Judges...they all had their sticky little fingers in the pot of writing the Bible. Wait, scratch that - God was working through them to write the Bible.

Hell, our government couldn't even get the freaking Constitution right - that's only around 200 years old and it already needs updating.

While I'm on a roll, you know what I can't stand? I can't stand it when there's a tragedy and religious zealots try to comfort people by saying, "It's all part of God's divine plan." Um, unless it involves free will, like September 11th. Then it's just evil. Is this part of God's divine plan? Hey, don't blame God for that one - you can chalk that up to the free will of human beings. Sometimes free will is evil. Well, how could God have let it happen? Um...God does not interfere with the free will of people.

Your baby dies of SIDS, it's God's plan. If thousands die in a firey ball of hell on earth...well, that had nothing to do with God.

My goddamn rock solid ghetto shiznit name is Wankmaster Teapot, Yo.
What's yours?
Powered by Rum and Monkey.

I've been getting some questions about the Comical Ali - The Wacky Iraqi shop - just to let you know, there are three designs from Steve's shop on the right sidebar - the bottom one is mine.

On my items there is a variety of quotes, such as:

"They have started throwing those pencils, but they are not pencils...they are booby traps to kill the children"

"We have destroyed two tanks, fighter planes, two helicopters and their shovels - we have driven them back"

"I am here to tell you, we do not have any scud missiles...and I don't know why they were fired into Kuwait"

"My feelings, as usual, we will slaughter them all"

and my favorite...

"I now inform you that you are too far from reality"

I threw the shirts together rather quickly simply to show all of the quotes so if you want a particular shirt or whatever with a different quote than what's on there then email me and I'll swap them around.

By the way - the "O" in "Comical" is a clown nose.

Profiteering-ly,

Natalie

(In the French tradition of randomly assigning genders to things for no reason other than to make their language more difficult to master, I’ve assigned France and England as male and America as female.)

(bbrrrriiiinngggg, bbrrriiiinnngggg…)

America: Hello?
France: Hey you.
America: (coldly) Oh. You. Hello, France, how are you?
France: Aw, don’t be like that baby, come on. It was hard to make this phone call.
America: (sarcastically) Yeah, I bet. I bet it was just as hard as being stood up in front of the whole damn world…is it as hard as that, do you think?
France: I think that’s a bit harsh – I didn’t exactly stand you up, exactly…
America: You turned your back on me when I was counting on you, France. I thought we were partners, I thought you were supposed to be on my side.
France: It was just…it was just a thing, I can’t explain it. I was stupid, I know, I just…damn it, I don’t know – I guess I was just wanting to do something on my own, you know? Like, we spend all of our time together, we always agree…I was feeling smothered!
America: Oh, and Europe isn’t as smothering as I am? Is that what you’re saying?
France: That’s not fair and you know it. The Europe thing could mean big things for me, why do you want to stand in the way of that? We’re linked with the whole Euro, I thought that it was time for me to stand with them.
America: You think they can give you something I can’t? At our first disagreement you just jump into bed with Germany, is that it?
France: Come on! Like you’re not all up on England? You used to hate England, now you’re all buddy-buddy…tell me that’s not weird.
America: You’re just jealous because I can overlook my past feelings and grow. Yes, I’ve forgiven England and now we’re friends, okay?
France: Well, I’m friends with Germany now, okay?
America: Puh-leeze! You’ve never stopped being friends with Germany – remember…
France: You always do this – I know exactly where you’re going with this – can’t you just let it drop? It was over fifty years ago.
America: I’m not saying…I’m just saying…Fine, I won’t bring up WWII. You’re right, let’s just sweep that little ugliness under the rug, shall we, and pretend like it never happened.
France: Thank you! Besides, you’re the one who pulled England into all of this. Before, it was you and me – now you’re jocking England. Just try to tell me there’s nothing going on there!
America: (laughing) England’s gay, stupid. England’s always been gay. Maybe if you spent a little time with him you’d know that. Hang on, my stereo’s too loud.
France: What are you listening to?
America: (sighs) A little Ani Difranco, a little Portishead, mainly Fiona Apple.
France: Angry chick music, I get it. What was that pop?
America: Oh, just opening another bottle of wine.
France: (slyly) Anything I’d be familiar with?
America: Perhaps. It’s a nice Romanian Pinot Noir…surprisingly good. You know, our break-up was probably the best thing that ever happened to me – it’s opened my eyes to a whole new world without you – I’m especially enjoying the New World wines, and I can’t believe I’ve ignored Wisconsin cheese for as long as I have.
France: Ouch. That’s harsh.
America: Hang on, my other line is beeping. (click) Hello?
England: Girlfriend!
America: (brightens) Hey sweets, what are you up to?
England: Not much, just thinking of going over to Spain’s house to watch the pool boy clean up after last night’s party. Spain needs some help identifying everyone’s underwear. Ohmygod, wasn’t that a blast? I got so drunk I let Portugal feel me up by the bar – now I’m going to have to avoid him for a while so he knows, “Um, no way, okay.” Wanna come? I can have Wales pick you up.
America: I’d like to, but I’m on the other line with France right now. Besides, I don’t really like Wales – he’s a bit gruff.
England: He’s my big ol’ bear – I likes ‘em gruff. What’s up France’s butt?
America: I think he wants to get back together, I don’t know.
England: Oh gasp! You’re not going to, are you? You just now seem to be getting over him.
America: No…I don’t…damn, I don’t know. I’d like us to be friends – he still has a lot of my cds, and that cute table I bought from IKEA – but I can’t see us ever having what we had. Not after all of this.
England: Oh, honey, you can do so much better than that. Come on over to Spain’s with me – there are going to be a lot of guys there, you’ll find someone.
America: I don’t know…I’ve been thinking of calling Canada. He’s been asking me out for a long time and I keep blowing him off…now I wonder if it’s too late.
England: Do watcha gotta do – after Spain’s, I think I’m going to the gym with Australia, maybe you’ll catch up there?
America: Yeah, maybe. I’ll call your cell.
England: Sweet. See ya, sister. (click)
France: ‘Merk? Who was that?
America: England. I think I’m going to go out, I feel like dancing.
France: Sigh. Is this how it’s going to be?
America: I think so, France. At least for now. I need to work on me for a while.
France: I understand.
America: Do you want your statue back?
France: (sigh) No, you keep that. I gave that to you because I loved you – let it be a reminder of our happier times.
America: Sure. (thinking: great, now the next time I have a boyfriend over I’m going to have to try to hide it, or pretend like it didn’t mean anything.)
France: Take care of yourself, okay?
America: Yeah, you too. (click)
America: (to herself) Damn it, I forgot to ask for my cds.

International-ly,

Natalie

I scored 29¼% on the classic 400 Point Purity Test!

Take the test here!

I am trying to determine how long my lines of text will be before it wraps and how I can change that setting. a;lskdjfa;ljfd ;alkdjf;alkjdf;aljkdf; ;lakjf;lajkdf;lkja; f; alkdjf;lakjdsf; lakjsdf;lkajdf;lkjas;ldfkj;lakjdf;lkj ;lkj ;alkjsdf j ;lkaj;lakjf ;lkjaf ;lkajf ;lkjadf ;lkja ;;lkasjdf;lkajsdf ;lkajsdf;l kaj ;alkjf;lkjadf;lkj o[pieur;lkzjf lkja;ldkfj;lkjf;lkjdf;lkj ;lakjsdf;lakjdf;lkjasdf;lkj;lkdjf;lkjds;flkj a a;lkjdf;lkasdjf;lkjdf;lkajd;slkjf;lkajdfklj

adfasdfasdf

adfasdfasdf

asdfasdfasdf

laksdjfhlaksdhflkjashdf

Testing testing

You are maroon. You represent cunning stength, but usually a manipulative power evolves from it. You are vengeful and impure, and have nearly lost all hope at become beautiful inside again.

http://quizilla.com/users/Shirono/quizzes/The%20inner%20color%20quiz%20(Utena%20Images)

you are the "you suck, and that's sad"
happy bunny. your truthful, but can be a bit
brutal.


which happy bunny are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

And something else!http://radio.weblogs.com/0102279/2003/02/13.html
http://cmave.usda.ufl.edu/~rmankin/soundlibrary.html

B3 d- t- k s u-- f++ i o++ x-- e l- c+

Okay, so how did this slip past my gaydar? I blame it on the fact that my main news source, MPR, is having their pledge week (or month, or millennium or whatever) so I've been avoiding it. Since I don't contribute they make me feel guilty and I have enough of that in my life, thank you very much.

Anyway, I heard word courtesy of PikaPikaChick, a fellow MN blogger, today of something called "HF 341", a bill introduced to the Minnesota House of Representatives. In a nutshell, this is the deal: (quotes taken from Outfront Minnesota's webpage on this alert)

"A bill (HF 341) was introduced in the Minnesota House of Representatives to repeal the state human rights amendment which protects GLBT Minnesotans from discrimination in employment, housing, education, public accommodations and other areas. In addition, it would remove sexual orientation as a protected class in the hate crimes laws. If approved, Minnesota would become the first state ever to extend, and then rescind, protections against discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation and gender identity. Our current Governor, Tim Pawlenty while majority leader of the House has said, “My vote in 1993 in favor of the gay rights amendment is one I would take back.” Politics in Minnesota, Nov. 29, 2001"

Man, is that guy a dick or what?

The deal is this - there's going to be a little rally at the Minnesota State Capitol Building on March 6th. Go to the Outfront webpage to get all of the details; I'm too mad right now to think clearly and I don't want to post misinformation - best to go to the source.

PikaPikaChick has some buttons you can use on your page here. (Pika - I'm only linking to the image for a few minutes - I need to hit the other computer to upload it to my own server).

And don't say, "Well, that's Minnesota, that won't happen in my state." When you go to the Outfront website you can see how your politicans voted on GLBT issues. If this passes here what's stopping it from coming to a House of Representatives near you? Think about these points, people:

* HF 341 would, for the first time in Minnesota or in any other state, repeal long-standing protections against discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, encouraging people to fire, evict, or even refuse to serve GLBT Minnesotans.
* HF 341 would, for the first time anywhere in the country repeal previously enacted hate crimes provisions, and would send the message that victimizing GLBT people is acceptable.
* HF 341 would, for the first time in any civilized country, reverse a condemnation of Nazi persecution and implicitly endorse Nazi extermination of gay people across Europe in the twentieth century.
* HF 341 comes at a time when the average Minnesotan is far more concerned about how the State will balance its budget than about rescinding civil rights for anyone.

That ain't sensationalism, folks.

So I'll see you there? Mark your calendar, March 6th. Bring your kids, your folks, come in from out-of-state if you need to cuz this is a pretty big deal and you've been given plenty of notice. As Minnesota goes, so goes the country? I sure as hell hope not.

But it might.





HF 341 Threatens Human Rights in MN
Put this on your web page


Mad as hell-ly,

Natalie

So the other day MJ posted about how her mere mention of a certain Super Bowl ad was bringing her in a ton of hits from people wanting to watch it so she's set up a direct link to the ad from her page. I thought, hey, that was pretty helpful, she's done her good deed for the day. Then I thought, wait a minute, I can rip off her idea.

See, I get a few hits each day for people looking for, oddly enough, pickle juice. Weird, huh? Especially considering that one of the major factors behind me naming my site "pickle juice" is because I thought that no one would stumble upon it by accident - come on, who goes to Google looking for pages about pickle juice?

On average? About thirty people a day. Which leads me to believe that there's some weird pickle counter-culture that I'm not (nor do I want to be) a part of.

But hey, I should do a good deed for the day as well - just racking up those Karma points, which I plan to cash in for a giant stuffed puppy dog - so I've whipped together a handy dandy little faq of the most popular search requests about pickle juice that lead people into the abyss known and my spewed psyche (aka - this blog).

What is pickle juice?
My god, are you stupid. Do you need assistance breathing? Do you notice when you wake up in the morning? What kind of stupid question is that? If you're coming here for the answer to that question I don't know that this faq is going to be much help to you, but I'll try. Cuz lord knows you need the help.

Pickle juice is vinegar, primarily. There are other flavors and preservatives added, but yep. Pretty much, it's vinegar. Duh.

What are the health benefits of drinking pickle juice?
Well, if you drink a cup of the stuff you've filled your daily sodium allowance in one sitting - that's pretty beneficial, isn't it? No, really, there is a health benefit to drinking pickle juice, in that it makes you want to drink more water, which you probably need. Most people go through life dehydrated, which can cause a lot of problems, like hangovers (yes, that's caused by dehydration) and premature labor. And many of us think we're hungry when in fact we're thirsty, but the thirst triggers have been ignored for so long that we don't recognize them.

But do you really need to drink pickle juice just so you'll be physically thirsty enough to drink the recommended amount of water per day? Just drink more water, duh, and leave the juice in the jar.

But what about those athletes who drink pickle juice when they practice and say it's a performance enhancer?
Remember that one SNL sketch where the guys were in a Gatorade commercial, except instead of Gatorade they were drinking raw cookie dough? Man, I thought Wil Farrell was going to puke at the end - his eyes were watering and he had that dough sliding down the sides of his face. Just watching that set off my gag reflex - wasn't that nasty?

That's about the same thing as drinking pickle juice as a "performance enhancer". If an athlete (which you most certainly aren't) drinks a shot of pickle juice (you know how big a "shot" is, don't you? Thought you might.) it contains around 100 mg of sodium more than drinking a Gatorade. So one little shot of fluid versus a tummy full of sloshing liquid is probably beneficial to some people. Have you ever jogged next to someone whose stomach was full of water or whatever, and even three feet away you can hear it splashing? Isn't that disgusting? And then the person has to pee every five minutes...so put it that way - is there a benefit to not having your guts filled with liquid? Sure. Does pickle juice help retain water so you don't dehydrate as quickly? Sure. Is pickle juice the new steroids for this millennium? I hope so - I could make a fortune, especially since there's little that an Olympic judge can do to you to detect pickle juice in the blood. Until you die from a massive coronary. Which leads nicely into...

What are some of the dangers of drinking pickle juice?
Just that pesky little sodium problem, pretty much. One liter (that's around a quart to you and me) of the stuff contains 10,000 milligrams of sodium. And guess how much sodium we're supposed to have each day? No, you're way off, guess again. You're getting closer, one more guess. What did you say? That's not even a number, stupid, that's a color. At any rate, you're wrong - it's 2,500 mg per day. That's it! Hell, you can consume that much sodium just by looking at pickle juice, let alone drinking it. You probably have high blood pressure anyway, so stay away from it. While you're at it you should probably stop using salt altogether and start using Mrs. Dash.

Okay, so I'm not supposed to drink it - so what do I do with it? It's too good to waste it.
Now, I never said you couldn't drink it - just drink responsibly. That said, there are thousands of uses for pickle juice. My personal favorite is this - once you eat all the pickles (and sometimes that's torture to actually eat the pickles...a lot of the time I end up throwing the pickles away because they've been sitting in less than an inch of brine and are all withered and gross) you cut celery into pieces that fit the jar. This is great even if you only have a little bit of juice left because the veins in the celery will draw the juice up through the stalk. Et viola, pickled celery. It's an interesting flavor. Use them as a garnish in Bloody Marys or fill them with cream cheese or chop them up and put them in a green salad or tuna salad. I'm pretty much tapped out on uses for celery here.

Use the juice in any recipe that calls for vinegar, like a marinade or a vinagrette. The stuff's green, liquid gold as far as I'm concerned, and it's highly undervalued to the point where if you make use of it people will find you utterly remarkable. I speak from experience here - people find me utterly remarkable. And you want to be like me, don't ya? Thought so.

So...erm...you don't happen to have any pictures of...let's say...alternate uses for the pickle itself, do you?
Sigh, I was hoping that you weren't going to show up around here anymore. No, I don't have any pictures like that, nor do I have any pictures of men, women, dogs, grandmas or postal workers eating pickles. Or myself, for that matter. You know how I eat pickles, usually? First, I take some sliced beef, slather on some cream cheese, roll the pickle up and chop the hell out of it until it's cut into bite-sized pieces, then I skewer it with a toothpick and chomp with all my might. There, how's that for a sexy visual, huh?

Sometimes a pickle is just a pickle-ly,

Natalie

But it was all so strange...you were there, and you were there, and so were you...but it couldn't have been a dream, it just all seemed too real. It wasn't a dream...was it?

That bad paraphrasing of Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz" is my pathetic attempt to segue into my point. The other night I had the weirdest dream (I can hear the collective groan as I write this - like, "Great, a dream post on a blog, yeah, we've never seen that before" - but stick with me, there's a real point to this.) and in this dream everyone I link to played a role. It was one of those dreams where even the dream-you comments on how weird it is - at one point I turned to Andy and said, "Isn't it strange that we've met everyone I link to? Small world." At least, that's the vibe I was getting - I don't believe dreams actually have words, just perceived vibes. Telepathic communication, I think, is the way of the dream.

At one point in my dream I went into this god-awful bathroom in a gym or something - every bathroom in every dream of mine is set up like it's in a gym with exits at each side - and this bathroom was foul. I had Nic with me and wasn't sure if I could go to the bathroom while holding him, so I asked the bathroom attendant, melly, to hold him for me. She was like, "What, you need both hands to wipe your ass? Hold your own kid." I went into the stall and it was totally covered in filth and I gagged. Melly told me to grow up or hold it and get out. I got out.

At one point we went into an antique store run by MJ where Artichoke Heart was shopping with her twelve little children who all had hair like Michael Jackson and were running around breaking things. At one point I cut my arm on something and these little mitochondria-looking bugs started to swarm in to burrow down into the cut. I freaked out until Irish Girl showed me how to singe my arm hair off with a lighter - I don't know why they stayed away after that but they did.

When we left the shop, Simon was outside at a caramel apple stand. I went up to buy one of the multitude of caramel apples he was carrying and he told me that they weren't for sale, that they were all for him. This part is particularly strange because yesterday he outed himself as being fat - maybe I somehow knew that, or maybe I inferred it from the name "Big Simon", or maybe it was just part of that whole wacky subconscious thing. (My favorite line of that post, by the way, is "[I'm] really big, not just American-fat.")

What are dreams if not our subconscious trying to tell us something, huh? HUH?!? Nothing, that's what. And what have I learned from this? I need more links.

Since announcing the Dilly Awards I've been sent quite a few links to some really great blogs, many of which I've begun reading regularly, but I didn't want to link to them from here because I didn't want even a whiff of impropriety about the contest. But forget that - it's getting to be too much of a hassle to keep popping around surreptitiously reading blogs and keeping them from the rest of you. It's just not fair, damn it.

So in the next few hours - or days, whatever - expect some freshly plucked linkage for your enjoyment. One in particular is one that Andy and I have been reading for a long time, Time For Your Meds, but I've resisted putting a link to her because she's too popular and I didn't want anyone to think I was kissing up to the popular kid, but screw that. And screw you for thinking that, ya rat bastard! Who are you to judge, huh?

And because I am a bed-wetting liberal I heartily endorse The Lysistrata Project. Though I have, on occasion, muttered the phrase, "Just nuke the bastards and be done with it" I really am not serious about that sentiment. Or maybe I am, I don't know. No, probably not. Okay, maybe a little. But only on Tuesdays in February - after all, isn't February really the Tuesday of the year? Thought so. What the hell does that even mean? No clue.

Disjointed-ly,

Natalie

Speaking of mental health - I have this weird thing about me and I'm not sure how to class it or what it's called. (This has nothing to do with anything; I'm just stumped by it so thought I'd solicit opinions on the matter.)

I have this thing where I have an intense physical reaction when there's something unnatural about a surface. I first noticed it in the eighties while watching the video for, "Oh Father" by Madonna. There's a funeral scene and the camera shows a close-up shot of the threads holding the dead woman's lips together - the image of those lips with the little lines of thread disgusted me so badly that I threw up.

It happens with poultry, sometimes, where instead of all of the feathers being plucked there are little bits of the plastic-like part sticking out of the skin, usually around the bottom. It looks like little cocktail straws sticking out of the skin - I can't even look at it. Before I prep any poultry I close my eyes and feel around for these things - if they're present I grab a knife and cut it off while my eyes are still closed. See the risks I take to avoid seeing that?

On Spiderman, when he looks at his fingers and sees the little barbs sticking out (just before he climbs the wall for the first time) I get woozy. I once nearly cut the tip of my finger off and needed five stitches but I couldn't stand to look at them so I ripped them out myself. It's a serious thing but I don't know what that would be called? It's not a phobia, exactly. You know how some people have physical reactions to things they hear, like metal on metal or fingernails on a chalkboard? That's what I get, only visually. I don't know if this is weird or usual.

Another issue I have is that once I get stuck on something it will bother me to no end until I get it resolved. Which means I'm going to spend the rest of the night obsessing about this if I don't figure it out - it's already gnawing at my brain.

Yesterday

mom: You tricked us. Your father and I were both on the phone, ready to sing to you and you didn't answer.
me: That wasn't a trick, I was asleep - dad was going to sing?
mom: Yes. He dialed your number himself.
me: Wow, good for him. Put him on the phone
dad: Schedule D.
me: What?
dad: You sold those shares, right? For your taxes. You need schedule D. You can pick one up at your local public library or the post office. It's best to pick up a few of them in case you make a mistake on one, then you'll have a replacement.
me: Uh, okay, I'll get into my horse drawn carriage and go to my local post office. Then I'll send something via pony express and come home and play a record on my gramophone - geesus, do you even know what year this is? I use software to do my taxes, but thanks for the tip.
dad: Software? Does it have schedule D for reporting? Because you have to report that gain. It's a capital gain and that means it's income, even if you don't have a job.
me: Yeah, I'm pretty sure it has schedule D for reporting.
dad: You take a look at the weather channel today? Weather on the 7's, that's what I watch.
me: Nope - I looked outside, saw snow, went back to bed.
dad: If you don't watch the weather channel you won't know when the snow's coming. You won't know what the weather is like down here.
me: That's a risk I'm willing to take.
me: I'll give you back to your mother now. Schedule D, now don't forget.
mom: (yelling at my dad) You could have told the girl happy birthday, you know! Sorry about him, he's an idiot; I don't think he even notices when he wakes up. Bitter morning, sparrows singing, birds without necks.
me: Uh...okay.
mom: It's Zen. I bought a Zen-a-day calendar and that's your Zen for the day.
me: That's my Zen, great. What does it mean?
mom: You're supposed to think about the sparrows without necks. They hunch their heads down when it's cold outside. I bought this calendar the other day because the calendars are all on sale and I like Zen. I was Zen before I knew what Zen was. The more you talk about something the less power it has over you - that was yesterday's Zen. They teach you that in AA. If you talk about getting drunk and blowing your own finger off with a gun it helps you heal faster.
me: What, your finger?
mom: No, your addiction.
me: Who blew off their own finger?
mom: Some guy I was in AA with; aren't you listening?
me: J's mom ripped her own toe off when she was little. She got it caught on a hook in a barn and tripped. She stood up and saw it sticking from the hook and she fainted and fell off a hayloft. She was in a coma for a while. That's why she limps and buys things from the Home Shopping Network.
mom: What does that have to do with anything?
me: It's Zen - think about it.
mom: Oh. Oh, yeah, I get it.
me: Thought you might.
mom: Did Andy give you your lingerie?
me: Yes, so you don't have to worry that you've just ruined the surprise.
mom: I wasn't thinking, but you opened it already so that's okay. What are you doing for your birthday dinner?
me: Going out somewhere. I think I'm going to have lobster, just because.
mom: Hmmm.
me: What? You have something against me eating lobster? You don't keep kosher, either.
me: No, it's not that, it's just...nothing. Nevermind, it's your day to enjoy yourself.
me: No, go ahead and say what you were going to say.
mom: I was just thinking that someone who's so far in debt might not want to be buying lobster, but I'm not going to mention it. It's your day, enjoy yourself, worry about your debts later.
me: Thank you, I will.
mom: Your sister called to wish you a happy birthday but you didn't answer the phone so now she's mad at you.
me: Yeah, that was another one of my tricks. She's just jealous because I'm stylish and she can't handle it.
mom: (silence)
me: That's some more Zen for you.
mom: I get the feeling you're making fun of me. Hippy tried making fun of me for the Zen but she's decided to become Wiccan now so she has no room to talk.
me: Oh christly christ, a Wiccan?
mom: Yes, but don't tell her I told you; she asked me to not mention it to you. You know, she did her taxes and got back nearly $5,000? She got back more than she paid in.
me: Wow, that's a neat trick. Poor people living in the ghetto get all the lucky breaks. What's she going to do with the money? Maybe move out of the projects and into a real apartment?
mom: No, she's getting her yin yang tattoo redone. The pink is fading and the blue has bled out a bit. I think after that she's buying a couch and some artwork. If there's anything left she might get her brakes fixed.
me: Glad she has her priorities in order. I forgot about her tattoo; she got that when she was a Buddhist, I remember. Is she going to get some Wiccan tattoo now, too?
mom: She wants to but she doesn't know what all the symbols mean yet. She's only been Wiccan for a couple of days.
me: Mmm, fresh Wiccan. Tasty.
mom: You'd better not tease her about it! You'll hurt her feelings.
me: She's 34; it'd be a crime to not make fun of her about it. I read a great quote, something like it's good to be open-minded, but not so open-minded that your brain falls out. Her brains have fallen out.
mom: I want you to think about what you've just said when you get your card from her. She gave you $30 for your birthday and she doesn't have money to throw around like that, you should appreciate her.
me: You just said she has five grand.
mom: That's not the point. You be nice and don't make fun of her on your journal.
me: I won't. Hey, you know that I was nominated to be an honorary Dykewrite lesbian?
mom: Is that a good thing?
me: Yes. Yes it is.
mom: Oh. Then I'm proud of you. But I'm not going to tell your father. Or any of my friends.
me: I said honorary. I don't have to be a lesbian.
mom: I know that, I just don't want to have to tell anyone.
me: Then don't. But that's not a very Zen-like attitude to have. You've disappointed Zen and I don't think he wants to talk to you anymore.
mom: Now you are making fun of me.
me: Just a little.
mom: I didn't want to bring it up but since you haven't said "thank you" yet I have to - did you get your card?
me: Yes, as a matter of fact, it came yesterday. On time for my birthday...there, beat you to it.
mom: Beat me to what?
me: I mentioned that you sent the card early enough so it got here in time for my birthday before you could do it and criticize me for being late with your card.
mom: The thought never even crossed my mind!
me: Yeah, it didn't.
mom: Your card was free from the March of Dimes. They sent us some free greeting cards and asked for a donation but they'll just have to wait until December like every other charity. Who does that? Who contributes to charity this early in the year?
me: Crazy people.
mom: Yes! Crazy people. Are you typing?
me: Uh...yeah, I'm on yahoo with Andy. He says hello.
mom: Oh. Hello. I'm going to have to get going, I have a doctors appointment and we're going over to Boob Job's house tonight. She's throwing a sex toys party.
me: She just went to a sex toys party last month! Damn, that girl has a serious problem.
mom: If she throws a party she gets a discount. All she buys are tassles - you know, she makes some pretty good money when she takes her boobs out.
me: She's a stripper now?
mom: No she's not a stripper - she just dances around topless at parties and people pay her money.
me: Oh, is that all? Good, for a second there I thought you were telling me she's a stripper now, but what she does is nothing at all like stripping. I was just a little confused.
(dad picks up the other line)
dad: Do you need me to go to the post office or what?
mom: I'm on the god damn phone here, you lazy cuss! You couldn't walk the ten feet down the hall and ask me in person? You don't know what we were talking about, maybe we were talking about a gift for you and you ruined it, did you ever think of that?
dad: Well I'm going to the post office and I'm not taking anything you wanted me to take. And I won't be back for a long time because I'm getting the tire fixed!
mom: Watch this, Natalie: Honey, how old is Natalie?
dad: (silent)
mom: Well?
dad: I don't have time for all of this.
me: You don't know my age?
dad: Well I have a lot of kids! I can't keep track of all of you.
me: Thanks for that, mom, I feel really good now.
mom: Are you still on the phone? Talk to your daughter while I take out the trash. (click)
dad: I don't have time, I'm going to the post office. (click)

Disconnected-ly,

Natalie