1. People who don’t want gay marriage legalized
2. People who think torture is OK
3. People who think both 1. and 2. are true
4. People who think 1. and 2. and also that abortion is murder.
Happy Friday, anyways…
Things I don't understand
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Category Archives: Letting off steam
Can I rant, for a moment?
I will post for real later today–with updates on my plants, some Easter photos, and some life update.
But for now, I must rant.
I wrote an article, and my editor said it needed a lot of work, and that a lot of it had to be changed, so she took me off the writer’s list–without telling me, without responding to my email that asked why she made the changes she had, and why she hadn’t asked me to make them, instead.
The problem is that the articles are almost identitical–the one I wrote, and the one she printed. Their is one paragraph added, and some language (which means, style, which is a writer’s preference, not a sign of bad writing) that is different. That’s it.
I am so angry. But, alas, it’s the real world. I shall continue to look for other writing opportunities, because I know I am a good writer, and will find work somewhere.
Thanks for reading, more later. xo.
Dear Ms. Suleman, Dr. Phil
Dear Ms. Suleman, and Dr. Phil,
I am concerned about the business venture you’ve begun. Ms. Suleman, It is no surprise that the public has latched onto your story and formulated its opinions. I also have my opinion: The birth of eight children into the world, given its current state, is irresponsible. I do believe you will care and love each of your children, but I wonder if you stopped to think of how you’d care for each of them when they were infants, toddlers, teenagers.
That said, it is not my life, and I don’t intend on imposing my beliefs on others. But I am sorry to hear that Dr. Phil has involved himself into your family’s story.
Dr. Phil, although I understand that Ms. Suleman needs financial and medical help and relief, I disagree with your venture to help raise money for her. Yes, those eight babies need care, love, and food. Yes, I believe someone should help them.
But using your fame, TV show, and career to benefit a woman who made (what some see as an unwise) choice to have eight children (adding to her six she already has) is unreasonable. In a world where stocks are tumbling, people are losing their homes, and there are already thousands of children homeless and malnourished, you are asking people to give a bit of themselves to someone who made a choice.
The choice was Ms. Suleman’s to make, and her doctor’s. Her doctor let her down by allowing the procedure to happen in the first place. But you will be letting her down, and America down, by allowing her unwise choice to continue to manifest by asking us for a handout.
Ms. Suleman has a home, and friends and family. She has a support system. She doesn’t need America’s attention, too. Americans shouldn’t be asked to help out this woman. Ms. Suleman made her life, and others shouldn’t be asked to clean up after her.
Dr. Phil, you should spend your time helping the hopeless, those who truly need it, not helping a woman who has made a media-spectacle of her family.
Ms. Suleman, you’ve made your bed. You know the rest.
Dr. Phil, I’m disappointed. I’d expect more from any doctor.
Thank you,
Jennie
The hunt continues…
We still haven’t found an apartment, and becuase of it I have spent the entire weekend eating my feelings in my weight of Milk Duds, JuJu Bees, and movie popcorn. I haven’t been able to slow myself. All I know is, this week is the week I need to find SOMETHING. ANYTHING.
I am sick of looking, but nothing we see is good enough. The location will be great, and then there is carpet. Or the floors are hardwood, but the street parking is awful. Or the street parking rocks, but I wouldn’t live in an apartment with wood-colored cabinets if my life depended on it. Etc., etc.
This is a crazy life. But I hope that something will be coming up this week–an offer, a beautiful apartment, my other roommates finally cleaning up dishes before I get to them out of anger, or magically I will come home one day to a non-sticky floor and dinner prepared for me.
Who knows? I can’t wait to see what happens…
Red Cup
It’s that time of year. When you go into Starbucks and are greeted with a red cup. I don’t go to Starbucks that much, as I recently realized that No, I don’t actually like your coffee, and No, your $4 drinks aren’t worth it. However, I did end up in there this week after the Peet’s parking lot was closed and I was forced to go to Starbucks (thank you alarm clock, for lacking in your only job). And there it was. A red cup. I usually bring my own cup, but as I was running late, I failed to grab my cup. So there I was, with two options: no coffee, or red cup. In retrospect, I should have gotten iced coffee, since it was 80 degrees anyways, but I chose the red cup.
I don’t like red cup when I am sweating. Mainly because I don’t like Christmas when it’s not Christmas. I only like Christmas in the 1940s-approved time slot: from Thanksgiving to Christmas. That means that on Thanksgiving, I will be listening to “A Very Special Christmas” 1-5 and live. I will also be listening to Mr. James Taylor. And it will be splendid. But until then, I hold a strict “No Christmas” policy. Meanwhile, I’d like Starbucks to keep Christmas to themselves, and maybe supply some plain cups for those of us who like to enjoy the holiday when appropriate.
And that, folks, is what I think about red cup.