I posted this to my Tumblr this morning and realized someone here might be interested. TW: for talk of sexual assault and misogyny.

"You have to be decent all the time, men, not just when it suits you, not just when you think it matters, not just when you think someone’s paying attention. ALL the time. EVERY time. You have to change. Women? Hold those boys’ feet to the fire when they mess up, when they say stupid, crass, idiotic things. Hold them to the fire so long that they blister and scar, make them so tender that they will know—they will know what it feels like to walk on eggshells when confronted with the opposite sex’s rage."

Read the whole thing here.

(And if you're a guy reading this and your reaction is to tell me that you're not like those guys? You missed the whole point--this isn't about how YOU feel. Sit a few plays out, champ, ears open.)
A few years ago, a friend in the acting community here gave me a copy of a movie he wrote and directed to possibly review on HDJM to get some press out. I watched it. And there was no way I was going to give it a positive review. Technically it was fine. Solid, if very "film school project-y."


FEMINIST RANT - mentions of rape, as that is the subject of said movie, there are no details under the cut of that act. )
Last night I spent almost 6 hours on Twitter liveblogging the filibuster happening on the Texas State Senate floor for the people who couldn't get the livestream on YouTube to work. I hardly ever get political online, because we all know how awful people can be, and rarely do people listen to others' opinions.

It's easy to make Texas sucks jokes. Believe me, I see them every day on Tumblr, LJ, Twitter, etc. Don't think I'm not paying attention. Here's why your easy, cheap jokes hurt: you're negating people like Leticia R. San Miguel Van De Putte, a state senator who came straight from her father's funeral to support Wendy Davis, a woman who has - since 1999 - stood in support of women, children, welfare, veterans, and education, a practicing pharmacist who gave the chillingly-wonderful line, "at what point does a female senator have to raise her voice or her hand to be heard over her male colleagues in the room?" This LITERALLY brought the house down, cheers and shouting and general glee from the people in the gallery for a solid ten minutes and beyond the midnight do-or-die hour. Read more )

The squeaky wheel has been getting the grease for a while. Last night you witnessed the other wheels shouting, "HEY, US TOO." That happened in my home state, the home of Molly Ivins (who I aspire to be half as clever and funny as) and Ann Richards. The home of Wendy Davis.

The landscape politically is changing, and last night you just watched Texas Spring. So keep your demeaning, belittling jokes about how backwards we are to yourself, because the majority of Texans don't side with the BS politics that have dominated the landscape. You're ignoring things like Wendy Davis standing for thirteen hours so women can stay out of jail for going to their personal doctor after having an abortion (something slipped in the bill).

I'm not asking you to move here. But understand why I'm going to think you're a jackass if you continue to go for the cheap Texas joke. Last night was nothing cheap, and don't you dare keep treating those of us who are trying to change things like we don't count.

ETA: and in case you didn't see, the bill WAS DEFEATED. Dewhurst (a jackass) admitted defeat just before 2am. And now I'm crawling back into bed. DOMA & Prop 8 DEFEATED/STRUCK DOWN, TOO!! Hot damn, what a great day to be pro-democracy!
but this is how many of you remember to come to HDJM and read all of the awesome writing there. (Hannibal continues to be CRAZY popular, which is awesome.) I'm proud of all of my girls, for sure. <3

Game of Thrones is here, btw, and it took me FOREVER to get it done because I am a total drag-ass today.

Instead of complaining, I will simply point you to this amazing post on TUMBLR (read the comments below the quote) and say that it's just wonderful to see people get that. It took me a while to get that (it took me having teenagers, honestly) and seriously, nothing has been pissing me off more in fandom that seeing people write boys saying that when they're doing something perceived as negative (or simply emotional) that they're being like a "little girl."

My girls love what they love, and don't know that they shouldn't love it. Them feeling passionately about their interests shouldn't be seen as being less important or valuable as a teenage boy loving baseball or cars or whatever. How ridiculous. STOP SAYING THINGS ARE LIKE A GIRL/GIRLY IN A NEGATIVE WAY. It's weak, it makes you look like an asshole, and you're a huge part of the problem females everywhere face.

There's no such thing as "I'm not one of those girls." Because there's a bunch of girls that say THAT, so you're one of THEM. And you're someone that is siding with misogyny when you do say that, by the way.

LET PEOPLE LIKE WHAT THEY LIKE. It doesn't take anything away from YOU if someone likes something you don't. (Unless it's liking your things once they're out of your possession. In that case, it absolutely takes away from you.) :)
First off, good for you. Therapy is awesome. Everyone should have access! Let's get to some helpful tips.

When filling out paperwork in a small 10 x 10 waiting room, you should NOT ask the personal questions from the three page questionnaire out loud and wait for your teenage son to give you a yes or no answer. I get it, you think teens are idiots. Sure, they can be. They take risks, yadda. Guess what they also are? Capable of answering personal questions for themselves. Questions like: have you had issues wetting yourself. Have you been physically assaulted? Do you feel safe in your home?

You should not be asking those out loud and then demand answers. I think you're trying to give off the impression that you're a good, attentive mother? You're not. At all. If your child is a teenager, they are PERFECTLY CAPABLE of answering those themselves. Privately. They deserve the freaking privacy, FFS.

When waiting for your appointment, you shouldn't talk at the top of your lungs. Especially not when it's about why YOU believe your son "needs this," and especially when you say it in a derisive tone, because you think therapy is for bad kids. AND ESPECIALLY WHEN MY CHILD IS RIGHT THERE, TOO. Blame is a bad thing. Well, you'll find out soon enough.

When the therapist asks your child to come in first, that's because of safety reasons. And you need to STFU and not barge in demanding to be "a part of the process." I just... respect their authority. Period.

When the therapist kindly and sternly locks you out of the room, the people remaining in the room [me] are not your allies. I like our therapist. She's awesome. Her partner is also awesome. They're helpful. Berating them to me isn't winning you any points.

When waiting in a therapists office for teenagers (many of whom have eating disorders, shame issues, etc.) REFRAIN FROM FAT SHAMING PEOPLE in the waiting room magazines. Honestly, you shouldn't do that ever. Because fuck you, that's why. And when I tell you in no uncertain terms that fat shaming Kim Kardashian who happens to be pregnant is wrong, your shocked response isn't getting through to me. At all.

[And you made me defend Kim freaking Kardashian. I-- Gah.]

Basically I think I have a good reason why your shell-shocked kid was there. And I am not even sorry that I smiled when the therapist told you with a grim face to come inside and just listen. That might be a first for you.

In conclusion, you're a terrible human being and your husband was an ass for getting onto your 6 year old who was bored with nothing to do in the waiting room. JFC. Bring a damn book and look at the pages next time.
There better be some detailed sexing in your gee dee fic if you are rating it EXPLICIT. Here, let me help. Explicit: fully and clearly expressed or demonstrated; leaving nothing merely implied; unequivocal

See, the reason why I am reading fanfic marked NC-17/E (for EXPLICIT) is because I want to read the bonings, okay? I want to read all the naughty prep, the during, and the messy afters. I DO NOT WANT TO READ THE EQUIVALENT TO A "CAMERA PANS TO ROARING FIRE." That is what fanfic is FOR: to freakin' turn the cameras back towards the BONINGS.

(I will not be judged by you, random skimmer of flists! And every time I read about clothed dry humping that is maybe one paragraph long and I've already read a good 60K of your 70K fic THAT WAS RATED EXPLICIT, a kitten is straight up murdered by a clown. Did you know that was the consequence of mislabeling your fics?!

Because I hate dressing up like a clown just to murder a kitten, but I am bound by law, and you should be too.)

JFC, and the M rating for a crotch lined up with another where they can feel the outline of some dudes dick in his pants. I GREW UP MORMON AND EVEN I KNOW THAT AIN'T PORN. That was a sin, not porn. LEVI-LOVINGS <<<<< GROWN UP SEXINGS.

Come on, Sterek Tag on AO3. Get your shit together. If only to save the life of a kitten and my pores from the greasepaint. IF ONLY FOR THAT.

Writer who is avoiding writing her own damn story. [grumpycat.gif]
This is day SEVENTEEN of the sneeze fest. You know how when you sneeze a few times, it's kind of a chills-inducing, good feeling? Your whole body is involved? And then it very quickly stops being that? And you have to look out for things you might kick over because you're sneezing so damn hard that a leg flies up?

I am not infected with a bacteria. I do not have a cold. This is a virus, or something random in the atmosphere, or simply my body signally that I am about to shut down completely in a matter of days, turning into an instant sack of goo. (If I die, please fight over my garden. And everyone can dig up ONE PLANT to have.) Steam doesn't help. Hot chile-infested food doesn't help. AN ENTIRE SCOOP OF WASABI DOESN'T HELP. Nasal spray is something I try to not use because it's habit forming. (And makes things worse in the long run.)

Clearly, my only choice is for me to hire a plumber to jam a snake up there and find out why my sinuses hate me. (If things don't get better by tomorrow, I'm going back to my ENT that did my surgery a few years ago to see if maybe my remaining sinuses have collapsed or something.) I AM FALLING APART IN MY OLD AGE HALP.

So because I'm grumpy (and gross and red nosed and broken, I am going to talk about two Unpopular Opinions - given how non-mainstream these ideas seem to be these days.

1. I think it's really awful to post to Tumblr a complaint about, say, a story, and then tag that story so that the author finds it - because you're using their story title/handle as a tag. I think it's DREADFULLY RUDE to do that.

PRE-EMPTIVE STRIKE: those that say "get a thicker skin" blah blah "if you were a published author" yadda. Let me stop you right there. Because a fat paycheck does a LOT to help an author get thicker skin. Fanfic writers get nada. They do it out of a need to share their love of something, and it is FREE.

Protip: don't use the author's tag to be awful. Or if you do? Don't be surprised if one day they call you to the mat for your shitty manners. :)

2. I really really REALLY hate when people comment to a story with "I want to bash their head in" or "I want to smack so and so" or "I want to hit" etc. It smacks (hurr) of not having enough of a vocabulary to express yourself, for one, and two - as a former victim of domestic violence, I automatically cringe when I hear "smacking heads" etc. Can't you use a better expression? Can't you actually express thoughts in a meaningful, adult way? Two year olds smack because they don't know how to tell you they're unhappy. You better be older than two if you're reading this. Or you better hie thee to MIT and become the World's Smartest Baby by obtaining a Ph.D.

I am quickly becoming a pariah, and I think I'm cool with that. [/curmudgeon that is also a really loyal friend. Like a pit bull. And I've had these things happen to me, and it filled me with sads. D:]

Now if you don't mind, I'm going to kick things over from this sneeze I feel building....
Which might sound strange, because I am still fannish about some shows. This post pretty much sums up how I feel about current fannish trends, aka - rolling around in spoilers and speculations and red herrings and becoming UNBELIEVABLY ANGRY about things and then spending the season bitching about how those spoilers and speculations and red herrings weren't accurate. (Oh, you don't say?)

I have not one single fannish Tumblr on my feed now. No one can be trusted (aside from my Miss Muse), I have painfully found out. I took K_B off my feed last night because someone put in their g.d. author's notes to a fic post "now that we all need a little..." blah blah - which means that they are hinting about a spoiler/speculation/red herring and now I AM INFECTED WITH IT. :(

Everyone can have the fannish experience they want. Which seems to be that they want to be angry and hate a show they continue to watch (oh my god, don't even get me started on the BZUH?-ness of that). So why can't I have the fannish experience I want? Which is to watch the show when it airs, and then talk - BEHIND A CUT - about what I liked, etc? Because people are selfish, that's why. I'm sorry if that makes you angry with me. (People who don't care about my wishes and wants make ME angry.) As [livejournal.com profile] flaming_muse said: spoilers should be OPT IN, not OPT OUT.

I've had four different fics on my hard drive that I've essentially deleted. I can't even consider moving forward with any of them, because my joy in the show and sharing it are pretty much gone - not to mention the whole "feeling paralyzed about writing the future with hints of what's to come having been carelessly posted."

I'm just tired of selfish behavior. It's like the majority of the people on the internet exhibit ADD behavior: complete lack of impulse control and thinking things through, or having empathy for others. /killjoy.

There are a handful of people that I enjoy in this fandom, and I'll continue to read them (and I'm talking, like six people), but man - the rest of the fandom has pretty much killed it for me. I've been in one fandom or another since I was, hmm. 11? I'm 40. I've never had such a negative experience. I say this not to be a whiner, but to stress how UNUSUAL this behavior is. This is not how fandoms typically behave, n00bs. As I tell my kids and their friends: Manners are free, so there's no excuse for you to not have any.

Not that it's a hardship to other fan-types in Glee that I'm not really wanting to play ball anymore, I'm not trying to prop myself up in importance (because let's face it - I'm not.) I'm just expressing myself in my personal fannish space.

ION, I bought my son skinny jeans and they bag on him. O_O The child eats almost $200 in groceries A WEEK. If I could bottle his metabolism...

[ETA]: Just to clear the record: I'm not trying to be all sniffy/flouncing. I'm expressing my frustration, is all. (And it should go without saying that there should be NO MENTIONS OF SPOILERS OF ANY KIND in comments here. Or speculation. Or red herrings. Or mention of Brussels sprouts. Because those are gross and make you fart.)
Dear dude in the black truck with blacked out windows driving past my house - very slowly, mind - four times as I worked in the garden:

WTF, dude? Hey, I'm a lady and have lady parts that dudes in vehicles like yours fancy. And dudes in vehicles like yours don't often ask permission to get their mitts on lady parts. SO EXCUSE MY GLARING AT YOU, but my first instinct isn't that you're checking out my lovely flowers, but that you're wanting to chloroform me and pluck my lady flower, if you catch my meaning.

AND WHEN I MOUTH "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" AT YOU, FLIPPING ME OFF IS NOT THE RIGHT ANSWER. But me approaching your vehicle on the fourth pass with my pitchfork in hand WAS the right answer.

Which is probably why you didn't drive by a fifth time.

And I called the local police station with your license plate number, because seriously, dude: WTF?

Signed, ME, the chick with the pitchfork who isn't afraid to use it.
First, Hey, Don't Judge Me is cooking today (with lots coming later today, too.)
Game of Thrones! Hope you like your incest. And baby killing.
Dexter! The rewatch continues with the beginning of Season 2, eps. 1 - 3.
Touch! The new Keifer show that is steadily picking up steam.
Later today: Mad Men! Bomb Girls! And THE RETURN OF THE BORGIAS (but debuting on HDJM!) Show my girls some love, if you would be so kind. They're working for praise, so how about you give them a raise? :)

FIC REC: one of those "Please drop what you are doing, read this, leave encouraging feedback, and marvel that this is in the world" kind of fics.

Sweet! A Love Story Told In Sugar by [livejournal.com profile] ohquixotica (I believe there are two other authors contributing as well?

WHY: Did you love Pushing Daisies? Do you love surreal romance and beautiful words and maybe a little Like Water For Chocolate? Because this story is all of that and more. I very rarely get emotionally moved by a lot of fanfic. I'm a jerk, I suppose. I choked up, clutched my heart, squealed with happiness, and felt everything right along with the characters. So funny, so sweet, so achy in places I could barely catch my breath. Everything I love in a story and all I didn't know I needed. PLEASE. Track this one. It's a WiP.

And those in Glee fandom? THAT IS HOW YOU WRITE 3rd PERSON OMNISCIENT. Know your POVs, it seems to be a problem. Do I sound snippy? I'll tell you why. But before I cut, PLEASE PLEASE READ.TRACK, BOOKMARK SWEET. You'll thank me later, I guarantee.

In which I go all Santana-like on entitlement, manners, why people share fanfic in the first place, and mother frakkin' TONE. )

And here come the anonymous "Stoney's a bitch" comments, I'm sure. Sorry for having opinions in my own journal. *

*no, I'm not. And one last time: CATCHING TYPOS is one thing. Talking down to me is another. Guess which one I'm cool with? (And christ, the story is 148,000 words. There's bound to be an error. Find me a printed book without a single error, would you?)
First, Southland last night was EPIC. Good lord. Recap is here, and I'm telling you, if you're not watching that show and you love the craft of writing? You are doing a huge disservice to yourself. (FM, you're excused because of the blood. :D)

Second, GLEE was epic. And this is where I'm going to go off on a rant about fandom entitlement, and how it's bled into the media, etc. Pre-emptive SHH for anyone that wants to challenge me on my feels. ALSO: SPOILERS FOR LAST NIGHT. )

Vitriolic, I know. I just cannot take any more of how bratty this fandom can be. I feel like there are two fandoms for Glee: people who love to hate it, and me and about four other people. Whatever, they're quality folks, and smaller parties are more fun to me, anyway. One of those quality people has made an amazing and heartfelt post about why the LGBT stories mean so much to her.

If you have anything negative to say, don't you dare drop it there. Her LJ is not the place.
It's been a while since I've had to do one of these, clearly it's time again.*

As an older fandom dinosaur (note to you kids in high school: I've been dabbling in fandoms for literally decades) I've had my own share of bumps in the road, hard lessons to learn, etc. It happens. Usually, you find that people are cool and understand social rules, even on the internet. Why, I remember my first week on LJ where I took someone's icon and didn't credit the maker, a BNF, too. The maker emailed me and said, "Looks like you're new. Here's how it works to credit." Thank you, person! I didn't know, and now I did. They weren't shitty about it, they were just making sure I knew what was what. (I'm...going to be shitty about it, fair warning.)

No one likes to come to a new school and not know where to sit, after all, right?

So let me explain the very basics of fanfic and fandom and how we're a community. And you don't fuck over your community (in case you didn't know that already.)

Disclaimers, permissions and blatant theft. )

I will own that I might be a little grumpy [hurr] given that my smoke detectors all went off last night at 2am for about 15 minutes in a cacophony of evil. Oh, and also because I'm bothered. =/

PLAY NICELY WITH OTHERS. We're a community here. This is meant to be FOOD FOR THOUGHT, not gas on the fire.

*I think my mean girl rants are why someone called me an ego-maniacal shit-heel. *shrug* I've never censored myself, not going to start doing it now.
And we were awesome friends that were solving problems together. I woke up happy. I think I'm going to sneak out this week to see Bridesmaids (why isn't anyone talking about this show on LJ?) and rejoice in funny women.

Speaking of, where the hell IS everyone on LJ? Have they all abandoned us for Dreamwhatever? Way to suppress free speech, guys. (In case you didn't know, the hackers that brought down LJ were trying to stop the Russian Youth from having access to the internet/free speech.) Whatever, I'm loathe to change, I have a permanent account, and this has become my habit.

There is some good discussion of the show Game of Thrones at Hey, Don't Judge Me - just the show, no book spoilers. Sam is posting a review of Thor later today, so bookmark the site and check back often. I've got a couple of book reviews going up soon, and then, the most exciting thing ever, starting May 24th, the Geordie Shore begins (it's a REAL THING, omg) and natch, I'm all over that like a cheap date on a cheap suit on a cheap pleather chair.

Lemme say it again: GEORDIE SHORE. (For Amerkins, that's like Chav Shore. Kinda. Mostly.)

Side bitch, I would just like to take a minute to complain about the VAST majority of "garden blogs" that are full of interior decorators with shovels? Meaning, they don't know anything about plant material, just color and texture. Which, that's fine, but you can't just stick a plant somewhere because it's pink and pretty and you like that. Will it LIVE? Not to mention when someone says they are a LANDSCAPE DESIGNER and then asks the general public via her blog to tell her what so and so plant is. (And it's not something rare.) This is why people think gardening is hard, because dipwads charge them a fortune to "design a garden" and just paint with plants, not knowing that such and such belongs in shade, or their soil is compatible, or blah blah blah. There REALLY aren't enough people who know what they're doing in the landscape business. It's really irritating to someone like me that went to school to understand SOIL and BIO-CHEMISTRY.

In other news, my tiger lilies are about spent, and the other lilies are just starting to open and my shallots and garlic are almost ready to harvest and the Mama Dove keeps her vigil. ...as do the kitties on the other side of the window. (I'm just glad they haven't realized that they can go into #2's room and look right down at her.)
Happy about:

1. high waisted jeans coming back into style! No more muffin tops, no more looking at your coin slot when you bend over, no more hiking up an ill-fitting waist band. (Hey, "designers." We get it. You secretly hate women, I've known this for years. But guess what? Women's bodies, for the most part, go out at the hip part, then go in at the waist part. Sometimes as much as 10 inches in some cases. And when you make waist bands on low rise jeans that are a straight line and the same diameter as the hip portion, they buckle in the back and people can see butt cracks, and guess who wants to see that? Not me.) If properly tailored trousers were good enough for Katharine Hepburn, they're good enough for me. YAY FLATTERING FOR MY BODY. Hepburn, Lauren Hutton and Ali McGraw are my style icons, what can I say? I'm a camel Birkin bag away from being a parody of myself. (omg, I want a camel Birkin bag. And I don't "want" purses.)

I'm not hot on an elephant/wide leg, but a straight leg with a waist that hits my waist? Yes, please. (I don't care if you don't like them. I've had to put up with low-rise for years, and the horrendous skinny jeans that two people out of 1000 look good in. Suck it.) Let's just hope that the stirrup pants I've been seeing will quietly slip away, because damn. No me gusta. Not even back in '85.

2. The awesome episode of SouthLAnd last night on TNT. Are you watching? Why the hell not? You need to be, it's amazingly done - actors, writing, cinematography, all are outstanding.

3. The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Guys. Remember how I loved the one from Jersey? And that's pretty much the only one I could tolerate? NO. BEVERLY HILLS. It's everything that show should have been all along. Extravagant lifestyles, detached from reality, amazingly bitchy women (Camille Grammer.) Seriously, this show is uh-may-zing. My HUSBAND even watches it with me. What does that tell you? I read the most amazing review (that made me jealous for their writing skills) and recorded the whole series to be watched over the break. WOOOOOOW. If anything, you have to watch the dinner party with Alison DuBois, the craziest narcissist that ever narcississed. (My older sister claims a real life friendship with her. Trust me, the woman is KRAZY. Like, she goes around claiming to be the "reason for the Amber Alert." UM, NO. THAT WOULD BE THE CHILD HERE IN TEXAS NAMED AMBER. You self-centered, wrong wrong WRONG bitch.) Sometimes you just need to feel superior to people with more money than sense, you know?

4. A day of filming, whoo! This is the project I've been working on for a while, the director is fairly well known in some circles, and his "buddy" producing this movie is Robert Evans. Oh please, oh please, oh please let this work out. Or I'd just like to hear him tell me that the kid stays in the picture. :) I'll be working on this for the next few weeks, so that's very exciting. The script has gone through a major overhaul (as they do) and I'm no longer the lead. Boo. Chalk it up to the friendship my buddy and the director have forged over the past two months. I'm glad for my friend, though, he's incredibly talented.

Not happy about:

1. Hipsters getting their American Apparel in my Hip Hop. I've had to drop two music sites from my feed because of these Indie dudes that have all of a sudden discovered Hip Hop (wow.) and think they know what they're talking about and write about it like some douchebags that grew up on Laurie Anderson and Phillip Glass with some Sufjan Stevens and Sigur Ros for party time and try to talk about Mos Def being a "sensitive poet" with beats that "hit the ears like waves crashing on shore." SHUT UP, NERD.

I want to give those guys a purple nurple when I read stuff like that. I mean, yeah, I'm a white girl, but I'm a white girl that grew up on funk, Motown, and the BIRTH of hip hop, and would just really love for the Furious Five to backhand these dillweeds. They were rapping about busting their sacroiliac back before you were a regret in your father's eye, yo. Gah. And saying that Dre "mockingly" talks about his grandiose lifestyle... WHAT. Yes it's hilarious when Warren G talks about bitches at his side and bitches at his back, but he's not being SARCASTIC, fool. Get your irony out of my struggle for the climb up the white man's ladder, Dahveed. (lol.)

"But when Fitty - I believe we should pronounce his name in the manner he's chosen - when Fitty talks about forcing a woman to perform fellatio on him after a concert, it's not unlike Captain Blicero and his forced sex slave Gottfried launching themselves into the unknown, space." Uh, pretty sure Fitty Pence didn't read Gravity's Rainbow. Because NO ONE READ GRAVITY'S RAINBOW. (Clarification, I made this quote up. The others are real, though.)
That episode of Friends where Ross makes everyone listen to his crappy synthesizer music makes me LOL every time. That was my junior high, yo, everyone had Casios and tried to recreate the sounds of Depeche Mode and Siouxie & the Banshees. And honestly, most of the dubstep/80s inspired music that's out right now sounds so terrible to me. It's like the point of the music is to have the tinniest, thinnest, crappiest sounding electronica playing and then ridiculously earnest (and embarrassingly navel-gazing) lyrics whined in a nasal, breathy tone. No me gusta. Also, I think I used up all of the adverbs and adjectives, sorry.

And then there was this mix of a song by a band [who's very picture makes me want to punch them in the Bert and Ernie sweaters. Oh, you're so hip and fresh! Bleh.] BUT THE SONG. All remixed by Matthew Dear, and let me tell you, if you see his name attached to anything, it's going to be golden. Honest. [The other mix on that page, not so much.]

I have very strong opinions on music, let me show you them, lol. OOOOH, the biggest BIGGEST BIGGEST pet peeve is when you can hear someone's damn fingers sliding up the guitar strings. NO. GAH, and I heard one song where that was like... on purpose. EVERY. DAMN. NOTE. "Skreeeeee! C SSKREEEEEE! E-flat." But that diminished 9TH? That's a man's chord. Ahahaha.

When you [general you] do that god awful sliding you have just told me that 1) you don't take your "art" seriously, 2) you are a hack, and 3) you don't practice strengthening your fingers like all stringed instrument players should. Before you try and tell me why it's okay (or why you don't notice it, etc.) let me stop you right there. My father and sisters are honest-to-god virtuosos on the guitar, both classical and acoustic. Dad trained with THE classical guitarists of the 20th century. You wouldn't be allowed to take your guitar out of the CASE if they knew you did that, esp. if you did that on purpose.

So. If you think you're a guitarist and still make that back-tooth pain skreeee! noise as you slide your fingers around, you've got a long way to go, dudebro. Get those fingers crisp and clean. Doesn't matter what style of music you're into, the best of all genres know that.

That was nice and random, huh? Nuh uh, this is. I made 15 foot long curtains this weekend. With grommet/rings to hang them by. They are GORGEOUS. I've only had the fabric in my craft closet for... a year? Well, it's because I have a crappy sewing machine (a Brother, aka "so you want to learn to sew!" machine.) I had to borrow my s-mom's bad ass Pfaff to get through the heavy material and was so sad to give it back to her that I decided to go hunt around and see if I could find a used one for a reasonable price. (Um, they are pricey. As in 2 - 3 GRAND. Damn.) I happened on a store that really needed to break even before the year was out and got an ABSOLUTE SCORE on a top of the line machine. I'm talking 60% off the retail price, just over his cost for the machine. Oh my god, I wriggled my tush all the way home. Like, I might make my own towels, or some shit. That's how happy I am. (Lol, no I won't. I think.)

AM I A PARTY ANIMAL, OR WHAT? Sewing and complaining, I'm almost your Nana. Wait, let me finish up making gingersnaps today and buy some hard candies. And can't you stand up straight?

OH. AND LASTLY, FOR LONGTIME LJ BUDS. Remember how I had a favorite aunt (Mormon) who wrote me off because I got mad about the totally repugnant racist crap she and her husband were mailing out while they were on their mission from God? GUESS WHO I HAD LUNCH WITH YESTERDAY. (And had no idea she would be there.) Oh, and guess who didn't bring up past ugliness? Neither of us. And guess who had a decent (if awkward and slightly nerve-wracking) lunch? She has two thumbs and wrote this post, that's who. GUYS I EVEN SAID GOOD THINGS ABOUT MISSIONARIES. I deserve my redonk sewing machine just for that angelic act, yo. LOL.
Dear Mr. Clint McCance,

Your recent spate of hateful anti-gay comments and your understanding of what Christianity means has me worried. Not for the children whom you encouraged to kill themselves, and that's mostly due to how cartoonish your anger has come off to the rest of us, but my concern is for your everlasting soul. When you state that you are a Christian that implies one thing: you believe in the teachings and preachings of Jesus Christ of Nazareth. The entire religion is based on the ten commandments of the Torah, then built upon with the teachings of Jesus, who actually gave two new commandments and claimed they were the most important of all.

"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind." and "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." He furthered defined that latter one by stating, "As I have loved you, love one another."

Spitting and hissing at children (they are children, sir, be wary of that millstone about your neck) and encouraging them to end their lives, lives that are a gift from your Lord and Savior, does not sound like loving one another. Calling them derogatory names does not sound like love. In fact, it sounds a lot like the word "Raca," and Jesus Christ of Nazareth told his followers in his Sermon on the Mount that calling their brother (which is a general term, for aren't we all children of God and therefore brothers and sisters?) Raca, or a slur, puts you in danger of hellfire. And since you're living your life under the banner of Christianity, I know that hellfire is the ultimate evil as it forever keeps your from your God and your eternal joy and probably would hurt an awful lot. One could logically deduce that a Christian would do all they could to not go to hell.

I always find it curious that devout - some could say rabid - Christians foam at the mouth about homosexuality when Jesus of Nazareth spoke not one word about it, not in any of the four Gospels of the New Testament, which as you know being the devout religious type that you are, chronicles the teachings of Christ both before and after His miraculous resurrection, and in His own words. One could surmise that since Jesus had ascended to heaven and felt it necessary to come back and teach a few more things to His people that He would distill His words to the most essential pieces of doctrine for Man's salvation. And one could also surmise that since Christ didn't discuss homosexuality after His resurrection that it wasn't as key a topic to Him as, say, declaring peace unto His followers and saying for His disciples to "feed [his] sheep." That can obviously be taken literally and metaphorically. Metaphorically means that it's an example to be applied to something else as a representation, and in this case, "sheep" means his followers and all of the people on earth. That includes homosexuals, Lutherans, Bangladeshis, and NBA players.

(I defined that because I noticed that you used a word that doesn't exist, "thereselves" and didn't know if I was using language that you weren't familiar with, and it is very important to me that I feed you this knowledge of your Lord and Savior who promises eternal glory to all that will come unto Him. I'm using the word "feed" to represent the idea of teaching.)

"Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Now put that in context of saying that you would cast Jesus out of your house, or you hope Jesus would commit suicide or contract AIDS (that's capitalized, by the way) and die a painful and slow death. How will you stand before your maker with love in your heart when you have cursed at your Lord and Savior who shed His blood for you that you might have everlasting life?

"Wherefore by their fruits shall ye know them." The fruits of your labors appear to be hate and evil, sir. Blessed are the peacemakers and the merciful. It would behoove you to spend some time actually learning the teachings and meaning of the words that your God has given you. Focus on Christ so you can call yourself a Christian. Recognize that the one word Jesus used more than almost any other was the word "Love." Love is the key to your soul enjoying everlasting peace and joy. Love is smiling, love is joyfulness, love is embracing those that would not otherwise embrace you, love is putting others before yourself, love is wishing well of others.

Who knows how much time you have on this earth to turn your heart around and open it to your fellow man so that your Lord and Savior can take you into his loving embrace (not in a gay way) for the eternities? Maybe you should start now.

With your best interests at heart,
Laura, a loving atheist.
I backed out of a blog commentary yesterday so fast yesterday because I was just flabbergasted and quickly outnumbered. The general gist of the post was "wtf is up with adults reading YA, that's kid stuff!" and the general consensus is that people who read YA are a) intellectually immature, b) emotionally immature, c) incapable of higher reading comprehension, d) all of the above.

UM. How about I point at my middle finger with my other middle finger? Or may I offer you a cup of shut the hell up? The general tone of commenters was "people who loooove YA are so clearly just stupid adults that can't deal with adult things, and can't read adult sentences, and I'm an adult, did I mention? I only do adult activities and eat adult foods and walk like an adult. NO ARM FLOATIES FOR ME!" *eats adult-sized portions while wearing adult pants and adult shoes*

I would like to put out there for the masses that if you think this way, you're an idiot. No, hear me out: You are a big ol' snobbish moron. Also, you stink. I think it's fairly obvious at this point how I feel about a certain non-vampire vampire series, and guess what was held as the YA standard? Does that mean we should hold James Fennimore Cooper as the dialog/prose standard for American Writers? OH MY GOD, NO. Worst. Author. Ever. (Chuck Jones likened reading his writing as walking through a wall of hot jello. That's pretty damned accurate.)

And I gathered from a lot of the comments that the people with the attitude were wanna-be or baby writers. If you think you can write better than Mark Twain or Harper Lee, prove it. Because the day your words are read 130 years after you've written them and are REQUIRED READING for literature classes as examples of amazing writing - not childish writing, not non-adult writing, but FABULOUS writing - that's the day I'll take you seriously. Mini rant with one eff bomb. For those that need to know. )

Anyway, that really touched a nerve with me, the hand waving and snobbery. I guess the positive is that these yahoos staying out of the library wing I'm in means the books I want to read will be available. Snobbery is never the way to go in any aspect of life, in my opinion. Except for when it comes to Mexican food, in which case I state that if you don't have people from Mexico in your kitchen, your food is moot. :)

Some great resources:
Black Teens Read 2
Voracious YAppetite
The Ya Ya Yas
I'm Here, I'm Queer, What The Hell Do I Read?
Forever Young Adult (My all-time favorite YA/book blog. HILARIOUS.)

Now if you'll excuse me, I picked up a copy of Hunger Games and plan on absorbing that today. :) (And finding out why I don't have a deck yet! Argh.)

*I realize I am not someone that can be considered an "authority" on literature, its genres, rating scales, keeper of data in relation to China's current tea pricing, but I am the leading Mormon Vampire Authority. And I'm the authority of your pants. So take this as you will. :)
This weekend I went with the Mr. to the Gun Show to see what they're really like. It can't be that bad, right? Wrong. No biceps were kissed in the making of this post. )

And today I get to brave the elements and rip out plants from the garden and put new things in. (No more purple cone flowers, they're taking over, as they do.) Saturday the Mr. and I chopped down 5 trees (our peach tree! Woe. Our Deodar Cedar! DOUBLE woe. And the three yaupon hollies, HOORAY I HATE THOSE THINGS) and carted them off to the mulch dump to make room for the POOL. (And saved big bucks doing it ourselves. More money to buy new trees, hooray!) It's going to be 107 today. SURE WISH THAT POOL WAS DONE. *cry*
Warren Jeff's rape conviction overturned by Utah's Supreme Court. Technicalities! On a freaking technicality. I hate everything about them. EVERYTHING. One of his attorneys that filed the appeal is a WOMAN. (An Issacson, which is an old Utah name, so that might explain that away.)

Texas? Y'all better get him extradited and locked up jiffy quick, or I'll lose my faith in my state.

In defense of why I think this is BS, for anyone that might entertain the thought of challenging my viewpoint (really. Don't. Not if you know what's good for you.) why is Manson in jail? He didn't ACTUALLY murder anyone, just ordered it to happen. This is the same damn thing, "joint-responsibility rule."

I am absolutely OUTRAGED by this. (Oh, and if you have no idea what this is all about, THIS IS WHAT THIS IS ABOUT. This scumbag. Hint: that's a WEDDING PHOTO.)
If my husband could go ahead and buy a red sports car and flirt with his secretary so we can knock this flippin' mid-life crisis out of the way, that would be super keen with me. He sounded shocked (shocked!) that his mother's third bout of cancer (not currently going well) his job path being set in stone now, his son having Asperger's, his beloved cat dying, and his just turning 40 and acquiring man boobs would have anything to do with his current bout of malaise and sorrow, all of which have been directed at me in the form of eye rolling, huffing and puffing, and outrageous out of nowhere arguments about nothing. True fact: the argument I hate more than any is the one that stems from "Yes, I know you said that, but I thought you said this." "Well, I didn't." "Right, but I thought you said..." AUGH!!!! Shut up shut up shut up!!

Yeah, I'm kinda busy here dealing with all of that, too, not to mention the running of a house, trying not to drown our teens when they act like teens, cleaning up dog and cat poop, canning 58 pounds of peaches so they don't rot, handling all of the upcoming school changes, and keeping everyone from the "I'm bored" crap that comes with summer while you, dear husband, travel and live in hotels with room service and housekeeping.

Oh, and then there's the mistake I made of googling my newly released movie and finding all of the bad reviews (there are good ones, too) that mention the "bad supporting actors" that were "over the top" [and I wonder, what the hell did you think you were getting, a Zeffirelli?] the lack of call backs on the acting front (making me think there's something to those reviews) the lack of any advancement on the writing front (and the lack of ambition on my part because of lack of blah blah blah) the posts and comments hither and yon (and in my own lj) expressing hatred for me because I dare to talk about my extreme dislike of Twilight and why I'm a stupid, horrible, angry person with too much time on their hands.

To which I give a resounding, hearty laugh, because where the hell is this extra time, because I could use it!?!

Bad day. Bad series of non-stop crazy days. I'm not even going to go into all the wank online, because I'm avoiding that crap like a zombie with a hunger for my brains. And the first person that tells me to "just breathe" gets my foot in their throat meat. (I cannot STAND that trite saying, for the record. Hate that like I hate sparklepires.) I just need to vent, guys.

I feel that some decadent cookies are in order today, and the house can just clean itself. And if my dog loses a leg and my truck gets stolen, I'm moving into a cardboard box in the mountains, I'm just saying.

June 2017

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